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In 1975, at the age of five, my only daughter, Cliona, told me to
stop smoking, as she had just heard on the TV that every cigarette
shortened my life by a few minutes.
I stopped straight away, touched by the directness of the child's
heart and mind. Certainly that decision gave me good physical health
for most of the ensuing period.
Cliona was named after an Irish goddess of the waves. Drawn to the
Gospel story early on, she found herself as an adolescent repelled
from a church that seemed to her sin-obsessed and authoritarian.
Leaving for London in her early twenties she fitted perfectly into
the New Age mould of that time - environmentally aware and drawn to
oriental mysticism. The Catholic worldview of her childhood simply
slipped away and she became a free spirit, travelling widely and
becoming a writer.
Now in June 2003 when Cliona heard of my cancer she had the same
child's directness: she travelled to Coleraine with her partner,
Ajay, a disciple of the mystic Osho. She also proposed that she and
Ajay give me a Buddhist therapy called Tibetan pulsing - directed at
the seat of the cancer in my bladder.
I had initial misgivings - to do with the fact that I had handed my
condition over to the Great Physician, the Lord Jesus Christ. But
then I remembered again the Taizé hymn I had heard in hospital: "Ubi
caritas et amor, Deus ibi est." (Wherever there is caring and
love, God is also.) Had I not accepted the ministry of everyone in
the hospital, irrespective of their faith, so why not that of my own
daughter?
So I received three sessions of Tibetan pulsing - involving
relaxation to rhythmic music, gentle massage, and meditation upon
the role of the body part being affected. I learnt that the bladder
was a delicate reservoir for the waters that I needed to preserve
life - not a mere receptacle for waste. This eastern spiritual
perception of the human body is so different from the western one,
in which we have too readily learned to think of the body as a
machine, with the doctor in the role of mechanic. It blended easily
with my Christian perception of the body as sacrament of love.
At the beginning Ajay invited me to call into the therapy whatever
spiritual presence I wished - so, of course, I called upon Jesus to
heal whatever was awry. Ajay said that he detected that this was a
particularly powerful prayer.
At the end of the last session Ajay asked if anything unusual had
happened. I said, truthfully, yes - as I had seen an image of the
cross, and superimposed upon it, an image of a fern leaf uncoiling
as it does in spring. I had taken this to mean that the cross was
the tree of life, and that my healing process had begun.
Now that my chemotherapy regime has just ended, with another CT scan
scheduled for next week, I feel certain that there has been a great
healing over those three months.
But, far more precious to me has been the healing of my relationship
with my daughter. I believe I had resented her throwing away
apparently everything she had received from her home and school, in
which both of her parents had taught. Now I found her very sharp and
intuitive about the pressures in my own life that had led to my
illness. Especially the habit of being glued to the electronic media
to collect data on the deteriorating world around me. She was also
an invaluable guide to the organic diet I now moved on to, with
great benefit.
She was also a mature and wise person, capable of communicating the
necessity of spirituality to her own generation. She will make an
excellent mother - and I do wish she would take on that duty
straight away, as I have no grandchildren.
Best of all, I can see so much of myself in her - intellectual
independence, a desire to communicate insights, a preference for
wisdom before knowledge.
From this latest experience I have learned also not to be afraid to
let my God mix freely with those of other faiths, confident of his
ability to make his presence known in imagery that will communicate
across all barriers.
Now Ajay will never again associate the cross merely with suffering,
and will be open to contact with other Christian influences in his
own country. The gentle pacifism of Buddhism, and the robust
pacifism of Jesus, cannot be antithetical to one another. The truth
is that Christian violence - too often sanctioned by Popes - has
always been a betrayal of the Gospels, and it is time to recall the
Church to the full pacific intent of the Gospels. The Dalai Lama and
Ghandi call us in the same direction - and it is time we followed.
So, using the formula Ubi Caritas, no Catholic need be afraid
of being unable to discern how to behave in the context of the many
different faiths we encounter today. And we should not be afraid to
let our children experience these faiths and cultures, and to ask
their own questions. The truth need fear nothing from the truth. All
of us are pilgrims whose paths cross for a purpose - to enrich
everyone with the gifts of wisdom that are then exchanged.
Already the departure lounge had given me insight into the wondrous
transaction that takes place between carers and patients. Now it had
healed a relationship of great importance to me. In both cases, I
had been learning something new - something I could write about -
giving myself an added impetus to survive.
Next Monday I receive another CT scan, and a fortnight later the
consultant will report the findings to me. Already I am confident
that the cancer has receded generally, as I have practically no
bladder discomfort, and the bladder has recovered its full capacity.
Will I still need an operation to remove the bladder then?
I must wait and see - praying as I do so - for prayer has already
proven to me its power to heal.
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