Mark Scandrette

Yesterday in the mail I received 15 advanced copies of my book SOUL GRAFFITI. It was a cause for an impromptu celebration with my family and our housemates including a mid afternoon glass of wine and dark chocolate all around. I told the kids, “See, papa was really writing a book in all those hours I had to spend away.” It was fun to hold the product of this labor in my hands— and even more fun to read it, pleased with what I found on the page. If nothing else it was the best book I could write in 2006.

Here’s an excerpt that relates to what my week has been like:

So many of the problems in our world seem to elude our comprehension and our ability to resolve them. The psychological effects of famine, war, or domestic abuse linger long after the hunger is gone or the fighting has ceased. Some situations seem beyond mending—I think of chronic generational poverty and mental disorders as two perplexing examples. Where power and human will are involved there is great resistance to change. Anyone who follows the path of a healer will eventually come to face the limits of human intervention. Dealing with these challenges and ambiguities should not make us throw up our hands in despair or retreat into passive complacency. In Mark, we see the story of the disciples of Jesus coming to him frustrated because they could not cure someone who was demon possessed (in the language of our time this might mean mentally distressed). Jesus replied, “This kind can come out only by prayer and fasting” (Mark 9:29). When we reach the limits of our abilities we can call on a power greater than ourselves. At times I’ve laid my hands on a neighbor who is passed out drunk, praying for divine help when treatment programs and other interventions have failed.

Jesus accessed the power of the kingdom to heal people who were sick, disabled, or mentally ill. And he promised his disciples, “Anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these” (John 14:12). Peter the disciple saw a lame man begging near the temple and said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk” (Acts 3:6). The man got up and walked. Is the apparent scarcity of miracles in the First World evidence that we lack faith or compassion? Perhaps Peter didn’t have any money because he had already given it all away. If we believe that all problems are essentially related to the spiritual, then we are invited to spend ourselves on behalf of the poor and then beg God for miracles for what we cannot do ourselves.

In recent years I’ve steered away from what I consider an over emphasis on “prayer” as the default solution to personal issues. I’ve met so many people who use prayer as a band-aid to cover self- inflicted wounds that stem from a lack of personal discipline or moral failure. We live in the messes we have created ourselves– and sometimes the solutions are not magical– but very practical– accountability, self-control and new patterns of behavior. I’ve noticed that alot of issues come down to learning to how handle stress, emotional discipline, financial management, time allocation, care of the body, sexual ethics and relational integrity. We should do all we can to move ourselves toward greater wholeness– and then call on a power greater than ourselves.

My week has been full of appointments and conversations with friends who are truly sufffering: couples struggling to stay married, friends managing their depression and anger, people grieving losses or living with a profound sense of failure. And I’m reminded of so many friends who long to find love and marriage– who struggle with a profound sense of loneliness. When we have done all we can to manage our lives and choose what is best, we are invited to call upon the power of our Maker for the “magic” that we don’t have within ourselves. There are certain situations where only a miracle will bring change. One thinks of, for instance, of the friend who wrestles with a serious addiction or progressive mental illness. With these situations in our community we have begun saying, “What we need here is some Holy Ghost Power!” The phrase makes us smile because it is so different than the language we normally use– but is also a deadly serious acknowledgement that in many situations what is needed can only come from a power beyond ourselves.

I’ve also noticed the important role community plays in personal health. Often when someone is not doing well mentally, emotionally, spiritually or relationally, they withdraw from the relationships that could give them the most encouragement and accountability. I think you would find, for instance, that long before a couple divorces, they often divorce themselves from the communities that could provide the best support. I’ve wondered if we should more agressively pursue those who withdraw from relationships– since withdrawal is so often a sign of unhealth– even when maintaining such relationships requires conflict.

In any case, I feel that the burdens I am sharing with friends right now gives me a sense of sobriety that is good grounding for my soul. And I’m begging for “Holy Ghost power” to know how to be a caring friend.