where healing begin

Where Healing Begins: the foundations of respect

by Barry Bittman, MD

It never ceases to surprise me that underlying personal issues are important factors that block recovery from chronic illnesses. Often these are centered around difficult relationships and family conflicts that never seem to get resolved.

Human beings are no less than masterful at hiding important issues that serve as our greatest obstacles to recovery. As a physician, when I finally become aware of a conflict that just might explain why my patient hasn’t responded in the slightest degree to any therapeutic endeavor, I respond with an “aha” that signals a new opportunity for healing.

While facing the issue is a difficult task, resolving it requires far more consideration than I can possibly include in this short column. So, rather than offering advice, I’d like to share a short story that has a worthy message for beginning on the right foot. It is entitled, The Rabbi’s Gift, adapted from The Different Drum by M. Scott Peck.

It begins in a dilapidated monastery in the early 19^th century. Only the Abbot and four monks remain as a bleak testimony to a dying order. The mother house is poorly kept and the grounds are in disarray. Few visitors ever come to worship, and no one seems to care.

Then, one day as the Abbot walks through the neighboring forest, he meets his friend, the Rabbi. The two begin to discuss the apparent lack of religious interest in their respective communities. After praying together for a while, the Abbot asks the Rabbi for any suggestions that could help save the dying order.

“No, I am sorry,” the Rabbi responded. “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”

Upon returning to the monastery, the Abbot tells the monks about his meeting with the Rabbi. In a disheartening tone, he explains that no suggestions surfaced to help their order. He did, however, mention the Rabbi’s strange statement that the Messiah was one of them.

Over the next few weeks and months, the old monks could not get the Rabbi’s words out of their minds. Who was the Messiah? Could it be the Abbot, the leader of their order for the longest time. Or was it Brother Thomas, the man of Light? Could it be the crotchety Brother Eldred, who almost always seemed to be right? Or was it mysterious Brother Phillip, who seemed so passive, yet was always there when the job had to be done? Finally, each monk faces the possibility that it might be him, and if it is, my God … what should I be doing?

And as an extraordinary degree of respect began to build for one another, things began to change in a peculiar way. The monastery and the grounds began to glow with pride. The mother house was proudly restored. The monks helped each other nurture the gardens once again, and the grounds radiated a beauty that had not been seen in two centuries. Even the cooking improved. People began to visit again, drawn to a wonderful aura of incredible respect, vitality and dedication that filled the monastery as it had in years past.

Eventually, younger men began visiting the monks who openly shared their insights. Many joined, and once again it was a thriving order¾ a testimony to the Light of the Lord.

The Rabbi’s Gift makes a simple statement that can help each of us through difficult times and seemingly overwhelming challenges. I share it often with patients at our Center as a reminder of our capacity to heal the wounds that sometimes block recovery. It is also a call to hold others and ourselves in higher esteem¾ a process that facilitates becoming whole again.

So, if those family or personal conflicts are tearing you apart, consider these words of wisdom. Treat each other, and yourself, as if all of you were the Messiah, and experience The Gift of the Rabbi¾ Mind Over Matter!