Therapists get the most

It was my first occasion to sit down with Richard Rohr privately.  I was at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico for my MROP (Men’s Rite of Passage). It was the second morning as we settled in with our coffee on the porch of the cafeteria.  Richard asked me how it was going so far and what I did work wise.  When I told him I was a therapist, with his friar Tuck chuckle and wide grin he said, “Oh, therapists get the most out of this!”.  I didn’t initially think a lot about what he meant but a couple of years later at a retreat in Louisiana I was seated next to him again and asked about his comment.  He replied: “because of all the stories you’ve heard—your own and the hundreds of others”.  That time at Ghost Ranch remains one of the two most grounding experiences of my life—so far.  

View of Perdernal mountain from the porch of the cafeteria at Ghost Ranch

Whether it is because I’ve been a therapist/social worker or not, I have had the opportunity to sit with hundreds of folks and hear their stories.  My wife and I have traveled to many places across America and around the world.  Spending most of my adult life in Nashville, I’ve had the opportunity to counsel people from the music/entertainment, sports and health care worlds.  In private practice, I had the opportunity to work with clients from outside the Christian culture of the Southeast, clients that we Baha’i, Hindu and Muslim.  

Besides Richard’s observation, I am a mystic (possibly channeling my Celtic Scot-Irish roots).  Then too, I observe multiple levels of all things as an INFJ (Myers Briggs).  Others describe those of us with this shaped personality as prophets—to which I make no claim yet do see that it is often the way I think.  All counseling in some ways is prophetic.  It is the case though that at times I ‘see’ things I don’t know what to do with—often, nothing.  At other times it challenges me to formulate my words in such a way that they be heard.  

Richard Rohr

For some, therapists are threatening.  I recall how Jack, the first executive director of the non-profit where I worked, would come late and leave church early not mingling much at all.  Although we take seriously a vow of professional confidentiality, we can be frightening to some fearing we will talk.  I consistently recommend that pastors not do counseling in that even if is helpful to parishioners, those same people may hear an illustration in a sermon a year later and think it is about them—and leave the church. 

After twenty years at the non-profit, I knew a lot of stories and congregational history.  I heard lots of internal church politics—good, and often bad; my own congregation as well as others.  As I watched our choir file in on a Sunday morning, I knew personal histories of so many—affairs, abortions and bankruptcies—the tougher experiences.   I knew how human all of us are.

breakfast at our home with Richard and some MROP mates a few years back

That is where Richard was so right.  The Rites was a time of sinking into the realities of life, particularly my own.  It culminated with a day alone in the high desert of New Mexico (sitting in a small circle the entire time) contemplating ‘The Common Wonderful':

Life is hard 

You are not all that important

Your life is not all about you

You are not in control

You are going to die

It wasn’t that those messages were new, but letting them sink in has been a continuing journey since those days in May, 2006.  After a world pandemic we all got the message that life is not just about us and that we are not in control.  These last three years have been a working lab as to what lessons to draw from all that has happened.  Death was a reality during the pandemic for so many.  Few of us do not have friends or family who died with COVID.  The pandemic drew me back to the years I spent on the front lines in Nashville with the HIV/AIDS pandemic.  Fear makes people do desperate things.  Finger pointing and blaming are rampant at those times.  As I learned back then, you do all the research you can, and then act accordingly with caution, knowing unknowns remain.  

with Richard at the breakfast

COVID ratcheted fears to a new level.  With the HIV research I was able to do in early 1986, I could see HIV was not transmitted by air or casual contact.  Blood and body fluids seemed to be the means.  So with gloves at times, we carried on.  With COVID an airborne viral enemy, it was a new ‘unseen’ battle. We will continue to assess what our take-away should be from these last few years.  

Yes, Richard, I do get the most out of many experiences of my life and I am grateful.  I have few regrets even though it wasn’t about fearlessness, just the opposite.  I have seen how fear can paralyze.  I was able to muster enough courage to move on, to move through.  

Life IS hard.  Yet there is nothing evil in seeking the pleasures of life—nice things, home, travel, good food and good times, but aspirations and purpose are best invested in the care and service to others.  

I started at the university to be a civil engineer with a job guaranteed at the Corps of Engineers when I graduated—but engineering was not it for me even though I had a 3.5 GPA.  I’ve had a life and career of helping and serving, and luckily one that also paid the bills.  I live in a beautiful state in a country that thousands of others are clamoring to enter.  Yes, Richard I have gotten the most.  My success has been paralleled by that of my wife with her own career.  We have been blessed beyond measure considering our humble Oklahoma beginnings. 

I do believe Richard Rohr IS a modern day prophet.  His teachings and example will be referenced and a guide for ages to come.  I’ve been privileged to have met him and benefited from his wisdom for several years now. 

Getting the most is in the end what it is all about.  Whether it is ‘most’ or not, my life has been rich with exposure and opportunity—and as a result, reward.