CAMP Spirit

"What would happen if all our theological theories and all our theological praxis [activity] were to be measured by their efficacy in the cause of human healing and the hope for wholeness?" I came across this quote by Denise Ackermann, a theologian and human rights activist from South Africa, and it caused me to realize that any genuine spirituality must contain these two elements: (1) an ability to contribute toward healing and (2) a means of envisioning wholeness. If one looks at any of the great spiritual traditions throughout history, one can witness both of these components. Thus, we see the Hebrew prophets, Greco-Roman philosophers, Jesus Christ, the Buddha, the Dalai Lama, and others encouraging ways of living that uplift the human condition and lead people toward balance, authenticity, and good will.

Denise Ackermann writes from the context of living through the struggle against apartheid in her native land. She points out that violence is endemic to human history and can only be avoided through a will to non-violence and focused attention toward changing political and religious structures as well as individual consciences. We can place responsibility for our violent world on neither society’s ills nor individual wrongs; rather, both people and their communities are to blame for ongoing violence, hatred, and incivility. Changing laws without changing human hearts avails us nothing; likewise, all the good will in the world will be wasted if there are structures in place that keep people arrayed against each other.

True healing involves at least seven components to be effective: First, we must acknowledge where we are hurting. In traditional religions, this often involves confession and lamentation. Second, we must tell our stories—how our life circumstances affect our place in this world. Third, we do so in community; gathered together we can make things happen. Fourth, our efforts must be embodied; simply thinking and talking are not enough. Healing must show forth in our bodily selves and be enacted in the bodies of others. Fifth, for healing to be meaningful it must be imaginative. What we embody comes from deep within, from the seat of our passions. Sixth, hope for change is rooted in the realistic possibility that this change can happen, what philosopher Cornel West calls "utopian realism." Seventh, all of our acts of healing require stamina, perseverance, risk, and vulnerability. We may not succeed immediately, nor will we always be acknowledged for what we do. But we do not give up.

I’ve lived in Rehoboth for eight years this month, and I have witnessed these seven traits of healing consciousness at work throughout our community. Spirit continues to be manifest in our political action, our religious communities, our charitable benefits, and the fun we have in all of these areas. Organi-zations and individuals have done much for many, but there is still more to be done. Living, loving, and working in such a beautiful place often allows us to forget that the majority of the world’s people live amid suffering, uncertainty, and violence. At those times, let’s remember an important proverb: "Of those to whom more is given, more is required." Blessed be.

(This article was inspired by an essay entitled "From Violence to Healing: The Struggle of Our Common Humanity" by Denise Ackermann in the anthology Beyond Colonial Anglicanism, edited by Ian T. Douglas and Kwok Pui-lan.)