A Sermon
Dear Dee,
I read your article in your denominational newspaper. I was stunned by your statement about Harold Wilke. You said, “I learned from Dr. Wilke that wholeness has little to do with the body.” I was wondering if you could elaborate this for me.
Daniel M
Dear Daniel,
On “Wholeness has little to do with the body,” you wrote that sentence stunned you. The one time that I met Dr. Wilke, I was stunned. I had never met anyone without arms. Beyond that fact, it seemed not to matter to Dr. Wilke. He did everything I did. He sat at the table and ate his dinner. He shared in the table conversation. He was gracious. At first, I saw only what was broken about him. Then I forgot about it. Well, not really forgot but set it aside.
I was then in my first or second year of seminary. I could no longer read print or really see where I was going because of vision that had divided from double to triple and then quadruple images. The struggle had been great to that point. Later the vision would deteriorate to something akin to looking through a prism and other complications that let to the temporary freedom of Braille, a mobility cane, and now the second of two dog guides.
Literally, visually, and symbolically, I knew a lot about brokenness of body. I caught, however, a wholeness of spirit in Dr. Wilke that met my own tenacity. Where I was a student of perseverance and will power, I eventually learned that while perseverance and will power are helpful in coping with the struggles of brokenness of the body, they are not the whole answer. They are a kind of pseudo-wholeness that fools others and the self.
As the rheumatoid arthritis that had been in remission during my mid-youth became unmanageable during my late 30s, I knew another kind of brokenness. It was a brokenness of spirit. I had worked so hard to get where I was. Now in the middle of great fun as a parish minister and Christian education leader, I had to call a halt to any singing and had to stop preaching. I had to tend to my body when I wanted to forget about it.
Again I saw the image of Dr. Wilke holding a fork with his foot that wore a special sock with toes in it. That image kept after me. While my co-pastor husband continued in the parish, I began to write meditations, worship materials, and eventually wrote several worship resources. I am presently working on my seventeenth book. Through this writing work, I began to realize that while part of my body was in trouble, I was not broken.
In the writing of these books, especially Holy E-Mail and Lessons from a Dog Guide, I came to understand the wholeness that enabled Dr. Wilke to transcend a broken piece. Some things do not matter. Inconvenient, yes, a real pain, yes, but really of no consequence when it comes to wholeness. Body for me is our whole being in that it is the house of what really matters.
I once said that if I still had my mind, the body would not really matter. In the last six years, diabetes has deluged me with another dimension of brokenness. For my body, diabetes means that I only have clarity of mind and stability of emotion when my level of glucose is within the parameters of only a few points. This is difficult to maintain and requires strict adherence to food, exercise and stress management. I have seen clearly that the mind and the body share a closely balanced chemistry. It has helped me to understand the turmoil that all who live with brain disorders must endure.
Yet, within all of this brokenness and this struggle, something whole within me refuses to yield. This wholeness has nothing to do with the body. It is very quiet, only whispering at times. Sometimes it seems to be only a single thread that I am called to continually spin into a new fabric and mat. When I truly connect with other people, whether it is through my writing or directly, it is at this point of wholeness that soul connects with soul. It is more than I. It is the God that stays with me and who sees that I am whole.
Well, you may have been looking for a short answer, Daniel. Suffice it to say that God sends us people like Dr. Wilke to keep us straight about what is most important. God also came through you this morning. You found me in the middle of another struggle, four weeks into a return to parish ministry as co-pastor with my husband, and trying to return my whole being to balance within its requirements rather than as I want it to be. I know that I am where God has called me. My job is, once again, to figure out how to manage it, that is, to do the things I can do and forget about the rest. Heaven help me, if your e-mail was God’s saying, Dee, why don’t you just stick to ministry through writing!
So, now I am curious, Daniel M., why did that little sentence stun you?
Shalom,
Dee
The Rev. Dr. Dallas (Dee) Brauninger edited “That All May Worship and Serve,” the newspaper of UCC DM published in United Church News at the time this sermon was written.
