Thoughts from a strange land

 

Towards the end of 2008 Fr Michael was diagnosed with motor neurone disease. Even for someone who has spent the best part of his life reflecting on the human condition, Fr Michael still struggles to make sense of his illness. In a series of articles he reflects theologically on what it means to be ill.

 

Make no mistake, I would very much prefer not to suffer from motor neurone disease. When it was diagnosed it seemed like a catastrophe; it still does. It has changed my life. But – and here is the strange thing – some of the changes have been for the better.

 

In order for you to understand how something as awful as MND can bring benefits, I need to explain my affinity with an historical event. I have come to realise that, in a strange way, my life mirrors that period of Jewish history known as the Exile.

 

Around 600 BC, Judaea found itself surrounded by three powerful empires: Assyria, Egypt and Babylon. The Jewish homeland became the battleground for their struggle for supremacy. In the process, the Jewish state was destroyed and the holy city of Jerusalem was flattered. The Jews were deported to live as exiles in Babylon.

 

This was a catastrophe. They lost their home, their social structure was destroyed, they no longer had access to the Temple which had been the focus of their religious life. They were a broken people: "By the waters of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion. How could we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?"

 

The temptation must have been to give up, to blame God, to abandon their faith, and to let hope be swamped with despair.

 

In practice, something quite different happen. The catastrophe of the Exile became the time for the flowering of the Jewish faith. Jewish scholars edited their traditional Scriptures and produced some of the most important prophetic books of the Old Testament. The scholarly group known as the Scribes emerged to rethink and develop their Jewish theology. And the tribal system, which had been the focus of so much conflict and bickering in ancient Israel, was replaced by a real sense of the unity of the Jewish people.

 

In short, out of the catastrophe of the Exile came a new depth and subtlety to their religious faith and a greater understanding of the love and majesty of God.

 

Sometimes my illness seems to me to be like an exile. It has destroyed the order of my old life, undermined so much that was taken for granted, made it impossible for me to realise my ambitions. Sometimes it really does make me feel as if, against my will, I have been transported to some foreign country.

 

And yet, this 'exile' has been for me a time of re-evaluation and discovery. I have had to think deeply about my faith, about the nature of God, and what it means to be a follower of Jesus. It has increased my appreciation of those closest to me, who have been forced to follow me into exile. And by removing the expectations of a 'normal' life, it has enabled me to discover what is really important and of value.

 

I would never say that, on balance, my MND has been a good thing – far from it. I still wish that my life, my relationships and my ministry had remained as they were. However, I am grateful for what my illness has taught me. It has enriched my faith and revealed to me the things that matter and the thing that do not.

 

Any of us, if we become seriously ill, can treat it as an unmitigated catastrophe. Or, despite the burden of suffering, we can use it as an opportunity to take stock of our lives and what is really important to us. We have that choice.