Book review: The Road to Joy by Kevin McClone

A chaplain's map for growing in wisdom

(Oregon: Wipf & Stock, 2020)

Like many authors of psychology and self-help books, Dr. Kevin McClone writes as a working psychotherapist and educator.  But his voice brings something new to the genre – prior training and experience as a spiritual care provider.  The difference, while maybe not visible to the lay person, is refreshing and deeply nourishing.

The Road to Joy fills a gap in the popular literature of personal growth, and even meets a need for certain clinicians.  First of all, he is explicit with the term “psychospiritual,” which may be novel to some, but which is a cornerstone among the competencies of chaplaincy.   Spiritual care as a profession is too often obscured in the shadows of psychotherapy and conflated with denominational ministry in a church.  It is neither of those things, although spiritual care practitioners will often confer with professionals in both disciplines: this is the commitment to “whole-person care” in action.  As a relatively young clinical discipline, professional research literature in our field is sorely lacking, while it is virtually invisible to the self-help audience.  This book is a welcome exception.

Similarly, the author’s impressive resume as a hospice chaplain, clinical psychologist and educator, and addictions counsellor, reassures the reader of his experience and credibility in speaking of transformation that leads toward joy – even through, especially through, pain and fear.  But you won’t read this book because it’s professionally competent – you will read it for the same reasons people in pain or confusion, religious and not, open up and come to trust a good chaplain: humane and authentic listening. Connection, “deep unto deep,” as McClone acknowledges.

The Road to Joy is a hybrid self-help guide and personal reflection on navigating life, each of the two modes strengthening the other. The author illuminates the eight-step path he proposes with resources drawn from both psychology and diverse spiritual wisdom traditions; but he also draws from his own life path, through addiction recovery and up to mourning the recent death of his wife of 28 years.

There is no glib or cloying, shallow “positivity” here which can so often doom lesser writers.  Dr. McClone speaks from personal experience, yes, but perhaps more important, he speaks tenderly and bravely about the meaning of our wounds and “weaknesses.” Because he is a trained chaplain and counsellor, he understands their transformational power when we humans, being neither doormat nor drill sergeant, become willing to engage with life as a long journey toward truth and grace.  But he is also a person of faith, and so he experiences his own trials through the lens of spiritual formation, and shares what he learns.  

As a person of faith myself,  in the wake of my own partner’s death I was left with nothing but a ragged trust in the fact that I was alive: a living consciousness, a “proof” of God, as it were, waiting to learn anew why I should exist in the material world. It is not an easy journey. 

I have always been deeply offended by the facile notion that “things happen for a reason,” which is a secular echo of the cruel “God’s will” argument.  Rather, through my process understanding of God, I recognize that deep experiences may be used by us.  Trauma and tragedy are crucibles: they change life and consciousness (as do blessings and joyful discoveries). Inside that crucible, what shape might you take?  What sense of direction might you find, for how violently your life has been upturned? There are many stories of individuals who have suffered greatly, who were changed so much by their suffering that they left a mark on the world.  Some of those, in our news cycle daily, are black marks of rage and destruction; many (less “newsworthy”) became pathways of justice, charity, nourishment and healing.

Kevin McClone’s intention is to give readers the conscious tools to use our ongoing formation – through love and family, through risk and rage – to become more fully ourselves.  Not to become “perfect,” but to become ever more self-accepting, realistic, grateful, and joyful.

In the face of catastrophe, science can often tell us the “how” of our injury, our symptoms, even our recovery.  Spirit moves us to ask the “why” – precisely the point at which a patient might seek out the spiritual care provider, when the doctor and the social worker don’t know what to say.  That's when we chaplains might try to gently reframe the question: not "What did I do to deserve this?" but rather, "What shall I do with this changed universe?" Ultimately, how do I walk this human path without being corrupted by pain? 

McClone understands that this fundamental question applies to the religious as well as the atheist, and to everyone in between.

In practice, it’s important to note, a good chaplain will never share his own trials with you – your own story is the centre and the source for the work to be done.  But Kevin McClone’s book reveals the kinds of wisdom and emotional hygiene (otherwise known as the core competency of “self-awareness”) that fortify his service to our neighbours’ spiritual need.  A great addition to both my professional and personal libraries.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. #Roadtojoy

Book Review: Holy Troublemakers & Unconventional Saints By Daneen Akers (Watchfire Media, 2019)

A joyful and necessary resource for progressives

            

This book is such a joy!  I don’t have kids of my own, but it was easy to return to the 10-year-old I was and find the pleasures in Daneen Akers’s ambitious reference book for young people.  In the world where I grew up in the 70s, there was of course no Google; there were books.  My family weren’t readers, but I was, and someone always arranged that books would come my way.  Two sets of encyclopedias lived in our house by the time I was born (purchased a month at a time by mail-order, I bet! But I never asked), and an array of educational books: one of dog breeds and one of horse breeds, complete with illustrated stickers to match to the right reference page; a shiny hardcover Readers Digest “omnibus” about everything interesting, from how to start a campfire to different kinds of clouds and how plumbing works.  I loved those books, immersed myself in their magical, glittering understandings of the world outside my little working class neighbourhood.

            Holy Troublemakers and Unconventional Saints is that kind of book, for a new era.  The author arranges her subjects alphabetically, rather than thematically, which is most appropriate – the lives of many of these un-conservative and un-conventional spiritual travellers encompass several overlapping themes, as do all of our lives.  Illustrated by soulful, joyous portraits, most of them are women, including trans women; many are clergy who moved from conservative faith communities to progressive and inclusive ones, with all the vocational trials that entails.  The LGBTQ community is beautifully represented here; politics and civil disobedience are part of many stories.  So too is sacrifice, and the costs of being true to oneself and to one’s love of God, often in opposition to one’s family traditions.  There are many names for God recognized here, as well, and representatives of a spectrum of communities, from global Indigenous to Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish, and of course a significant cohort of progressive Christian traditions.

            Some of my favourite Holy Troublemakers are here: Harriet Tubman, Mr. Rogers, Thich Nhat Hanh, Kaitlin Curtice, Rachel Held Evans, even Francis of Assisi.  But more thrilling was the discovery of so many activists, called through faith, to agitate for the concrete needs and spiritual dignity of their people – however “their people” might be construed.  For a quick sense of the tone and scope of this volume, parents might simply skim the helpful glossary at the back.  Two examples: 

            Conservative: A person who tends to like things the way they are or the way they have historically been; conservatives work to limit political, theological, and social change.

            Womanist/Womanism: …  Black Feminism that listens for the perspectives of the people in texts who often are overlooked or unheard, usually the voices of women, enslaved people, and children.

            

I’m grateful for those congregations, many for which I preach, that teach and pray to an inclusive, welcoming God, One who rejoices and weeps with us on the messy human journey.  Yet there are also curious kids whose spiritual formation isn’t taking place in a faith community – and what’s more, who are surrounded by shallow and polarized media blather about “religious” people.  As parents and spiritual leaders -- where to find alternative narratives about the faith-filled, humane work we know to be going on all over the world for justice and neighbourliness?  Holy Troublemakers and Unconventional Saints is a brilliant start.

            In our current secular culture that too often mocks or caricatures religion, Akers’s lovely book is a light in the darkness for kids’ questions about religion and faithful practice. And I will attest, it also proves a balm for us confused and weary adults.  

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. 

#HolyTroublemakers 

Book Review: On Satan, Demons and Psychiatry by Ragy R. Girgis, MD

On Satan, Demons, and Psychiatry: Exploring Mental Illness in the Bible

Ragy R. Girgis, MD  (Oregon: Wipf & Stock, 2020)

Thumbnail: "Mental illness is not moral weakness" - an important argument, imperfectly executed.

I come to this text occupying the same overlap from which Dr. Girgis writes: where Christian theology meets psychiatry.  He is a psychiatric clinician and researcher, striving to translate his scientific language for Bible-based Christian believers like himself, while I am a Christian theologian and multi-faith hospital chaplain, working as a spiritual care resident in acute and tertiary psychiatric care.  

While not a biblical theologian (political and applied theology is my field), I have found in caring for patients that biblical language is relevant and helpful - for them and for me.  The language of "demons" can be illuminating when, for example, we are trying to reconnect to a loved one, inexplicably lost in clouds of paranoia, or major depression, or refractory schizophrenia, or dementia.  However, most of us understand such language as metaphorical - it simply helps orient us to the play of invisible forces that disrupt the relational currents in human connections.  JK Rowling, in the Harry Potter series, depicted "Dementors" as predatory, dark, cold pits of despair personified; the films managed to visualize them with gut-chilling effect, sucking the colours of heart, joy, and self out of their victims.  Based on my own experience with a loved one's depression, and moreso since my clinical experience, she got it right.

Furthermore, it can be hard to square our scientific understanding of mental illness with the subjective, emotional experience of loss, anger, or resentment; the pre-scientific language of the Bible provides images and, more importantly, theological context for dealing with the functional and relational challenges posed by symptoms of mental illness. 

However, Ragy R. Girgis's book is not addressed to those believers who consider the "demons" of psychiatric illness metaphorically.  He is writing explicitly for a Christian population very different from my own progressive context: he - admirably - wants to challenge and modify an attitude among certain Christians that finds the existence of "serious mental illness inconsistent with a Christian worldview [emphasis mine]."  In other words, like the lepers of biblical times, the mentally ill may be considered as unworthy or somehow not right with God; even, as tainted by evil spirits. Can this actually be a problem, in 2020?  

In my own circles, perhaps not, although I've met many patients who doubt their own worthiness, mentally and spiritually burdened as they are.  And yet the public's willful ignorance and fear around mental illness is very real.  As a seasoned occupational therapist once told me, so many of our patients lack the supports of friendship, acceptance, just the simple freedom to be who they are because the people closest to them frankly wish them to be different, to be "easier."  The layers of sorrow go deep.

Thus, On Satan, Demons and Psychiatry attempts a noble and urgent project: to speak the language of the kind of conservative Christian who pits science against faith (Girgis is not that kind), whose religious priority is individual salvation (Girgis is that kind), and who may be inclined to read Scripture literally.  His mission is to convince such readers that mentally ill people are part of the biblical record -- not only the "damned" but also major characters in both the Hebrew and Christian testaments: King Saul, Nebuchadnezzar; several of Jesus' healings and more importantly, what they taught about God.  The author argues, successfully, I think, that the biblical writers simply used different, pre-scientific language to describe behaviours and afflictions that existed then as now.  

Girgis is clearly not a trained theologian - there is no indication here that there are many ways to understand God's power, to understand the mission and message of Jesus' teaching, death, and resurrection.  The author's job is obviously not to survey all those ways, but it matters to know which "Christian worldview" he represents - contrary to his unequivocal tone, there is no monolithic christology that speaks to all Christians.  

He is, however, an earnest student of scripture.  Girgis's theological approach seems to attempt to soften the more black-and-white views among some believers; but as a progressive, non-denominational Christian myself I was impatient with some of the christological claims  -- especially the Jesus-is-God equivalence,  and the emphasis on individual salvation. Astonishingly, Girgis insists that the Bible was written not for "groups of people" -- contradicting (at least) all the Hebrew prophets and most of Paul's teaching -- but for individuals intent on their own salvation, the exact opposite of my reading. In addition, oddly, he assures us that he isn't attempting to change the reader's view of the stories' meanings, only to propose that if we consider the characters through a lens of mental illness, we might understand more about mental illness.  This is a repeated, circular disclaimer that undermines his own conviction. 

And finally, this is a manuscript in desperate need of an editor.  This project was a labour of love, but it reads like a graduate thesis, not a mature argument. With my professional interest in spirituality and mental health, I was compelled to dig for nuggets in this book. But it is easily thirty per cent longer than it needs to be, and there are frequent, inexcusable repetitions of entire paragraphs, for example the opening paragraphs of several chapters; the summary of chapters in the Introduction is far too detailed -- verbatim paragraphs cut-and-pasted into the chapters themselves -- then it is largely repeated in the Conclusion's summary.   You won't read it for its crisp prose.

But for an audience resistant to theology that permits of science and grace, or an audience that wants to damn what it fears, Dr. Girgis might be a reassuring guide to the instruments of God's healing work in the 21st century.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. 

Review: Timeless Quaker Wisdom in Plainsong, Paulette Meier

[Well, it's a resurrection time. As the world peels off its layers, its scabs, its blindfolds ... I will re-enter my inner world and see how it all looks from here.  To begin - the Speakeasy network invites me to review Christian and other spiritual works of interest to me.  It's a joy to begin with an a cappella singer!]

Paulette Meier: Timeless Quaker Wisdom in Plainsong (audio recording)

A gentle space for contemplation

I am not a musician. While I enjoy many creative outlets in my life, the ability to make music is not one of them. Perhaps that's why composers, musicians and singers loom large on my spiritual path.   Whether it's Tom Morello or Sweet Honey in the Rock, there is an alchemy, a mystery in this performing art that might as well be the voice of God itself, as it washes over me, blissful in my mereness and in the grace of receiving.  

On the other hand, I am a trained theologian and a nondenominational preacher. Naturally, my passion for music spills into my vocation, through an eclectic, ever-growing collection of conventional gospel, spirituals and secular songs touching on spiritual themes.  The power of song has much to contribute, both to our fellowship at worship and to our private reflections on God's call to us.  As a theologian, I have studied Quaker history and tradition, and felt a certain kinship with its principles and practices -- but I am not a Quaker.  For me, then, Paulette Meier's a cappella solo recording Timeless Quaker Wisdom in Plainsong is an unexpected and joyful resource for learning more about the Society of Friends and the outlines of its spiritual principles.

But of course, it's much more than that for any of us whose hearts turn reflexively to God at the swell of a melody.

Technically, "plainsong" is not about a melody; it could be considered, rather, a musical form of speaking. It is characterized by an unaccompanied vocal line, and requires neither the rhythm nor the rhyme that we moderns expect of song.  Meier applies this technique to seminal writings from the Quaker tradition. Each track consists of a couple sentences, perhaps a paragraph, sung and then repeated once, all coming in at about 2 minutes or less. The focus is meant to be entirely on the text. Meier's voice is steady and pure - she takes no stylistic liberties with the form (with one lovely exception, the surprising 3-part overdub arrangement near the end of the album called "Seeds of War").  

This is not the kind of collection one would typically put on to play start to finish.  It is more like an anthology of meditations, and in the spirit of meditation, one might better choose one track as a touchstone; like lectio divina, each selection a frame for contemplating deeply the few wisdom words Meier has chosen.   Whether in a group retreat setting, or in one's own daily sitting, these tracks bring both substance and concision to support mental discipline and help keep monkey-mind at bay - for example, "This Present Time."

 As a chaplain and nondenominational celebrant, I am always on the lookout for music appropriate to the ritual or gathering I've been called to create.  There is much here that speaks outside denominational lines.  "Our Life is Love" reflects on the centrality of community; "Who Is It that Dare?" proclaims the radical equality of "male and female" as vessels of Christ's light; "They that Love Beyond the World" is a compassionate reminder that our departed loved ones are never truly lost to us.  The aforementioned harmony piece, "Seeds of War," arranged as a sort of round, challenges our attachment to things - whether "our furniture and our garments" representing Quaker simplicity, or all those tempting consumables of the more worldly life - not simply as spiritually shallow, but much more darkly.

Paulette Meier has offered a gift to the Quaker community, certainly; just as I weep to hear how certain African-American spirituals offer up scripture, so for Quakers the resonance of internalized teachings will be all the richer.  But Meier also blesses all of us seekers with a window on the path of silence, simplicity, and contemplation of God's call to human community.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this work free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own.