Congregations, health,
and healing—what happens
when these seemingly
unlikely bedfellows get
together?
If you're like me, you think first of old traditions,
such as prayers for the sick,
anointing rituals, or healing liturgies. Or
perhaps you think of recent developments
combining congregational activities with
community outreach, like parish nurse
programs, or church-sponsored blood-pressure
screenings, blood drives, or free
clinics. But violence probably isn't the
first thing that springs to mind.
For five congregations in the Chicago
area, and doubtlessly many more around
the country, confronting the alarming and
ubiquitous presence of violence in the
community is an urgent priority. These
interfaith partners have insightfully identified
violence as a major public health
problem, one that people of faith cannot
ignore. They choose to address the issue
explicitly, at individual and local levels,
creating innovative ways not only to
respond to incidents of violence but also
to prevent them. This issue of the Bulletin
highlights the many faces of violence and
what health care professionals and congregations
in particular can do to counter these evils.
Confronting violence as a health and
religious concern is an absolute necessity,
especially now. Events that might have
once seemed confined only to certain
places or to fringe groups have now
moved in closer to home, or, indeed, into
the home itself. School shootings in the
most tranquil of rural settings, bombings
in the heartland of America, random acts
of crime on the streets of every city, and
silent signs of abuse in doctors' offices,
hospitals, and church or community gatherings—
these have radically altered our
assumptions about society.
The stories in these pages are, to borrow
a phrase from the Biblical scholar
Phyllis Trible, "texts of terror." They are
stories we would rather not read or tell,
ones we wish belonged outside the realm
of faith and health. But organizations and
people of faith have no choice in the fight
against violence and disruption. Clearly,
we are called to right the wrongs that
stand in the way of health—the health of
individual people, of groups and congregations,
and entire communities. It is a
large and ambitious undertaking. In the
midst of the struggle, as Trible says, "we
hold on, seeking a blessing: the healing of
wounds and the restoration of health."
These ultimate goals, then—recovery,
restoration, redemption—give us hope for
the journey.