Kester Brewin does an excellent job of setting up what is means to be engaged with the “Other.”  The book consists of four parts, which lead to his final conclusion.  Part 1 speaks to “Loving the Other Within the Self.”  Here Brewin speaks of walking the path of Jesus, and while the journey may be dark, complex and difficult we need to know that this path begins with affirmation.  God is pleased with us, and we must realize we are loved sons and daughters emerging into adulthood.  Part 2, speaks of “Loving the Other Within God.”  While we as Christians have formed churches where we are comfortable and like-minded, the life of Jesus calls us to be identified with the stranger.  Our lives are not meant for comfort, but embracing the other through separation and binding.  Part 3 covers “Loving the Other Within Society.”  Brewin gives a strong message on the verse ‘whoever loses his life for my sake will find it’ by stating that we are in the need to forget about our own salvation, and truly give everything and serve others.  Part 4 speaks of “Loving the Other in Praxis.”  While this task might seem overwhelming with all of the social conflicts throughout this world, we as Christians are called to bring peace, equality, and justice.  And if we truly believe in the message Jesus preached, then we need to preach that love can impact this world, both globally and locally.

This book overall has challenged me on how I engage with the Other, God, and myself.  And it has forced me to look at the movement I am having from childhood to adulthood.  I am certain that whatever task or goal we have in life, God is calling us to be AWARE, and Brewin speaks of this so eloquently in his book when he states “True love is involved: true love pursues, even into the darkest, dirtiest places.  What we will find there is the face of the other, and it is in the held gaze of that face that we will realize our interdependence: the fate of our lives and beyond are tied up together.”

To understand my situation, I will offer a quick survey of my time as a patient.  I was hospitalized because of a large tumor constricting my mesenteric artery and threatening the viability of my small intestine.  After a week of tests, poking, prodding, and intense pain like I have never experienced before, a group of surgeons declared the tumor inoperable and I would likely die from it in an unnamed amount of time.  It was later suggested that my only hope would be having a small intestine transplant.

Because the tumor was constricting the blood flow to my small intestine I was experiencing tremendous pain.  Pain that caused my whole body to shake and send my heart rate into rhythms of 150 beats a minute while lying down.  Dilaudid, used to control pain, was being administered into by blood stream every 5 minutes, as well as heavy doses of Ambian (sleep aid) at night.  Dilaudid is a heavy narcotic, seven times stronger than morphine, and for the month it was administered, I felt both relief and ambivalent detachment from my reality.  One day, early on in the process, I attempted to wean off of dilaudid, so that I could, in fact, deal with the reality of possible death.  However, this was not successful.  Instead I had an panic attack where I felt trapped.

Reading a book called Beyond Silence and Denial, Death and Dying Reconsidered, affirmed the isolation I felt as a patient in the hospital.  I experienced a kind of mental isolation and helplessness that is still difficult for me to explain to others.  Bregman the author writes, “Chaplains noted how loneliness and helplessness made the physical aspects of illness worse, and yet medicine seemed to ignore and exclude what it could not itself cure.”  The ongoing pain and shock prevented me from being able to express my own thoughts, emotions, mental and spiritual pain.  Physical pain affected everything I did.  I quickly turned over authority to doctors, because they were the experts and my only hope for relief.

As I reflect on this, I feel torn.  I believe pain management is a wonderful thing.  However, I also believe as soon as the administration of painkillers began, I lost my voice as a patient.  Bregman emphasizes the importance of the whole person, yet with this mental isolation, I was lost.  The longer I remained on the transplant floor of the hospital, the more I realized the reality of every patient was that of being less than a whole person.  But unlike the other patients around me, I experienced a successful surgery without need of a transplant, was given my life back, able to walk out of the hospital to “life as normal.”  Had the outcome been different, I would have been dependent on various drugs the remainder of my life, continuing to feel less whole.

Ironically, the isolation after leaving the hospital continued, however.  Yes, I was able to regain moral control, but something Bregman doesn’t note in her book is the further isolation following an unexpected healing.  Isolation exists after experiencing something so dramatic and traumatic to my story, in which most others have no idea about.  And possibly more frustrating is my continued inability to speak of it in a way that can be understood.

The evening I was released from the hospital, my wife (Holly) and I went to a Walgreens to fill a prescription for pain medication.  It was my first experience re-entering reality and as I looked around, I was struck by the realization that no one had any idea what we had just been through.  It felt lonely and confusing.  For months I asked myself what life and relationships were supposed to look like now.

My miraculous healing while patients around me were dying was another cause of the continued isolation.  My successful surgery isolated me from all other unsuccessful surgeries.  Because of this, I found myself disagreeing with Bregman’s statement, “When a patient recovered, he or she could leave the hospital and get back to ordinary life, regaining relationships and moral control.”  Speaking of the complexities of actually returning to ordinary life was not her main point here, but I was left reflecting on my inability to lose some of this isolation I experienced while in the hospital.

After reading Bregman’s book, I worked on the following drawing:

Artist statement

Communion with God is a concept I wish to convey through this piece I’ve drawn.  I have named the image “Daily Bread,” largely because of concepts addressed by Bregman.  In her conclusion, she affirms “nothing, including dying and death, can separate us from communion with God.  In my personal experience, however, medicalization seemed to separate me from this communion.  I would like to be able to say that in the crisis, I was focused on God and salvation through Jesus.  But the amount of pain and ultimately, drugs, clouded my ability to do so.  My personal “daily bread” (aka painkillers) acted as substitute for my regular communion with God.  The pills “gave life” and my hope was placed in them and in my doctors.  Ironically, despite feeling so mentally, emotionally and spiritually isolated, the Christian community was interceding and experiencing this communion on my behalf.

While the image communicates themes of medicalization, this essay focuses on the individual who experiences isolation, while still in communion with God.  Bread and wine are exchanged for painkillers that are capable of relieving physical pain.  I metaphorically compare communion of bread and wine to communion of medication.  My hope is that questions are raised on how these lines of spirituality blur.

Small talk… and…

Me: What is one thing you would like to communicate to people right now?

Eric: Well I think it would have to do with the way others treat others.

Me:  Could you be more specific?

Eric:  Don’t treat people like crap!

Me:  So why do you say that, were you hurt?

Eric:  Not to get to personal, but recently I was entangled in a relationship were I was open with a person and did not protect myself… I was hurt!  I started having panic attacks, and was weeping.  It was one of the worst experiences of my life.

Me:  I am sorry Eric, sounds rough.  But you sound so positive now, and seem really confident, do you think it was necessary for you to go through this difficult situation to come out on a better end?

Eric:  Really… I don’t want anyone to go through want I went through.  Like I said the pain was rough and I hope that is wasn’t a lesson.

Me:  So if you were to sum up everything you felt in this experience and could communicate one thing to people, what would that be?

Eric:  When you connect with a person, you genuinely try to know and care for him or her.  I am tired of relationships where two people are not engaged and aware, I really want more.

Me:  Thanks Eric, everything you have said goes well with the project I am doing.  I really just want people to be aware of how they affect others around them.  I appreciate your honesty.

1. To love people and learn from them, no matter their state or situation.
2. To elevate personhood
3. To reconcile tragedies, so that the community can come along side
4. You are responsible for your life; use it to serve the world
5. To care for the other, and walk those steps together

These ideas seem to run along the lines of how Jesus lived, and that is why I believe Oprah has struck a chord with such a large group.  She is speaking about being aware of the neighbor.  Living in community, where we share our burdens.  A life lived focused on humanity and being apart of God’s creation.  And while I know some are upset that she never specifically named Jesus, I would argue that she has used her position well.  And if the message she gave did not satisfy you, please do not speak bad of her, but preach and live the message you long to give as well as she did with hers.

What amazes me is that Jesus could have kept walking, he was on his way to heal a dying girl, but instead he was aware of himself and the people surrounding him.  The woman realizing that she could not go unnoticed reveals herself.  Here I believe Jesus was “killing two birds with one stone.”  First, the woman’s faith needs praised and second, Jesus makes the community aware that this woman needs to be reinstated.  At that time, women were looked at as less then men.  And someone who was bleeding was not to be touched, for they were considered unclean.  Jesus is simply breaking all the rules.  And I ask the question, are we aware of the ones who need healing or reinstated back into community?  Or are we too focused on the mission we have laid out for ourselves?  Jesus stopped, saw and engaged and I pray that I do the same!

Check out Holly’s BLOG as she retells the story of tumor 2011.

I have come to some small conclusions about my life in the last year, and I thought I’d share them with you.  I had promised several people, (and that one Indianapolis News Station) that I would consider how to use this blog for something bigger than me.  Something that raised concern and care for others.  For most of my life, and I assume many of you can relate, I have looked inward to find strength and power for living.  It’s personal.  I’m a self-reliant, self-sufficient American, of course.  And while looking inward might be fine (occasionally) I am suggesting we begin looking outward, focusing on the greatest commandment of Loving God and Loving People.   While loving God and loving people seems an overwhelming and unattainable task (if we’re being honest), I suggest we start simple.  Become AWARE.

My personal goal is to become aware of myself and what I’m communicating through my words, actions, or lack of both.  The goal also includes engaging with and becoming aware of the people around me, family, friends, acquaintances, enemies, or the Christian fundamental Catholic Jesus-healer I sit next to on a plane (this really did happen).  My hope is that the people who visit this blog will in turn become aware of their own hopes and fears, while also connecting with their neighbors.

So how will this blog work?  It will highlight people in my life, some that I know and some I randomly cross paths with.  I will interview them, asking about their most pressing concerns and feelings toward life.  I am not approaching these conversations with expectations, just a genuine interest in what they have to say, and a desire that they feel heard.  I will be posting their thoughts on the blog and plan to eventually video these conversations.  I admit that this project is more for my benefit, than anyone else.  But I hope that the stories and experiences that reflect what is going on right now in culture will move you in some way as well.

I should give you a little more background.  The idea is the result of several events and people strategically placed in my life, and I feel the need to give props where they are due.  First, my parents.  I grew up in a household where I was taught loving God and loving people was the greatest commandment to live by.   Second, the transplant unit of IU Med Center (you can read about that journey here at nathanjpelz.com).  My time as a patient on the transplant floor revealed a world full of joy and celebration of life, directly parallel to a world of pain, sorrow and death.  Third, Fuller Seminary.  Professors and fuller alum/friends like Dr. Erin Dufault-Hunter, Dr. Barry Taylor and Neville Kiser who push the boundaries on living differently in this world.  Fourth, a book I recently received as a gift (from Neville) called Other, by Kester Brewin.  This book has helped me collect most of my thoughts and solidify ideas.  And finally, my wife Holly, who has and is always pushing me to be me.  She has been the partner in my corner that I am forever grateful for and honored by.  We can all honestly agree I would be lost without her!  So I state all of this to say these experiences and people have steered me in this direction.

Check it out HERE!

Alive and well!

]]> http://www.nathanjpelz.com/home/?feed=rss2&p=432 0 http://www.nathanjpelz.com/home/?p=411 http://www.nathanjpelz.com/home/?p=411#comments Mon, 16 Aug 2010 03:11:17 +0000 admin http://www.nathanjpelz.com/home/?p=411 This is Nate, alive and well, writing for the first time on the blog!  To start things off, I can’t begin to express my feelings toward you who prayed, wrote, stopped in, told a friend or spent time thinking about us.  It is all appreciated so so much and those memories will be held close to my heart for the rest of my life.  Even as I write, faces come to mind… Nancy, Uncle B and Richard who sat by me through some intense moments in the Phoenix hospital, Bridgette who always came to the hospital in Indy to do our laundry, Jason and Nick spending the whole day in the waiting room without even getting to see me, family waiting in the lobby for hours at a time, people driving many hours to see me for 10 minutes, all the cards and financial gifts, and Mark, Lindsay, and Daisha sending flowers from Las Vegas.  The list goes on and again, so overwhelmed with all the love shown.

If you read the blog regularly, Holly and I have been traveling from Indiana to Phoenix and made it late Thursday night with no problems (not even one flat!).  Holly and I are excited to be back with our AZ community on the other side of the country.

As for me and my health, I am doing alright.  I’ll have lots of energy at the start of the day, then crash halfway through.  If you like percentages and numbers, (Jim!), I’d say I am at about 65%.  Just trying to be patient throughout the healing process and getting back to what I’d consider my “normal”.

My hope is to write more soon.  But I wanted to get something up, since it’s been weeks since Holly said I would!