The spiritual essence of helping others ultimately transcends both professional identity and religious theology. Found everywhere in the interfaith experience, it flows instead from a deep and mystical resonance with the other that cannot be contained by theories or treatment plans. As we mature in our ministries, we learn to trust this mystical communion wherever it leads. In the beginning of our work, however, we often get stuck in the bind of professionalism.
Desiring to be professional in our work, we try hard to “do good” but there is a subtle problem with this motivation. Quaker writer Parker Palmer explains, “Such action is ultimately wrong, whatever its intentions…(because) it is forced goodness and force always turns subjects into objects, making benefactor and beneficiary alike prisoners in the object-world” (Palmer, 1990, p. 47).
In other words, we subtly make people into things (e.g., patients, diagnoses, victims, sufferers) and then try to fix or change them. He calls this the “pathology of professionalism.” Have you ever noticed this problem in your work? It arises whenever concepts supercede empathy and communion. Although professional training and understanding are critical elements in our preparation to be ministers, one day we must release them to truly see the other.
Palmer adds, “The irony of the pathology of professionalism is that the word 'professional' originally had a very different meaning. At root, a professional is one who makes a profession of faith—faith in something larger and wiser than his or her own powers” (Palmer, 1990, p. 44). For me, this kind of faith reflects a mystical immersion in the Divine so real, tangible and flowing that it dissolves my preoccupation with identity, purpose, and the hard boundaries between self and other. In this immersion, I move from the object world into mystical consciousness, and then into the Presence. From here, my work is not my own.
Put slightly differently, Sacred Work is not primarily goal-oriented, altruistic, or guilt-driven helping; rather it is about the true self—who you were born to be—finally breaking the chains of reason, self-doubt, and fear of disapproval to be what it most deeply is in relation to what is around it—that is, to be so genuinely connected to self and other that the self - other distinction disappears. Then I am you, and what is happening to you is happening to me. From this communion, this com-union, loving action flows by itself—you just know what to do. Such is the origin and nature of Sacred Work.
Palmer gives a lovely example of this shift. He recalls being severely depressed several times his life and describes well-meaning visitors coming by to” cheer him up,” reassure him, offer advice, and share their experiences of depression—but their visits only left him feeling more depressed. He explains, “One of the hardest things we must do sometimes is to be present to another person’s pain without trying to “fix” it…Standing there we feel useless and powerless, which is exactly how a depressed person feels.” To avoid our pain and helplessness, we give advice, “…which sets me, not you, free. If you take my advice, you may get well—and if you don’t get well, I did the best I could.”
Then he continues, “Blessedly, there were several people, family and friends, who had the courage to stand with me in a simple and healing way. One of them was a friend named Bill who, having asked my permission to do so, stopped by my home every afternoon, sat me down in a chair, knelt in front of me, removed my shoes and socks, and for half an hour simply massaged my feet. He found the one place in my body where I could still experience feeling—and feel somewhat reconnected with the human race” (Palmer, 2000, p. 63). This man sensed the nature of Palmer’s pain and trusted his own rather unconventional response to it.
I remember a woman coming by after my childhood open-heart surgery and all she did was rub my back. I will never forget her. This is Sacred Work.
Interfaith spirituality understands that Sacred Work is the core of every religion, promoting justice, service, creativity, and love. Matthew Fox calls it the path of the Via Transformativa, wherein the transformed self now seeks to transform the world through action derived from deep communion. It is here that the mystic becomes the prophet.
Mystical communion happens when you live in the moment, totally present to the other without theology, good intentions, or agenda. Bigger than the ego and its professional concerns, this felt unity with the other grows into an often-unstoppable force that reveals our place and work in the world ... and you follow this force wherever it takes you.
NOTES
Palmer, Parker. (1990). The Active Life. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass
Palmer, Parker. (2000). Let Your Life Speak. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
