Summer CPE Down Under

Introduction

I was fortunate to be invited by ACPE CE colleague Michael Hertz to lead a summer unit of clinical pastoral education for Royal Perth Hospital in Perth, Western Australia. My husband enthusiastically agreed to come along. We didn’t know what to expect, but we expected to have the time of our lives. And we did!

The CPE students and I formed an international group hailing from Zimbabwe, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Sri Lanka, and Australia. We marveled that this group had gathered with an educator from halfway around the world. We acknowledged during Orientation that something greater than ourselves had gathered us together. We suspected we knew Who and were intrigued to discover why. It’s the “why” that I’d like to share in this reflection.

There are many ways I could tell the story of my time in Perth. I find joy in describing the generous character and professionalism of my colleagues at The Centre for Wellbeing and Sustainable Practices. Tales of seeing such fascinating creatures as kangaroos, quokkas, and wombats are fun to tell. Hearing the recording of the torturous song of the ravens makes people laugh. And, our Orientation period, a three-day bush camp at the start of the program, was extraordinarily exciting and unique for the students, my husband, and me. 

However, when I’m asked what my time in Perth was like, what I really want to say is that it was a transformative, religious experience due to the sacred act of listening. We educators often refer to CPE as being transformational for the students. This was a transformational experience for students and educators alike. My recent experience in Perth strengthened my belief that the single most powerful thing we can do in our ministry as educators and encounters with others is to listen. It has been said that a story is like a vessel with the truth inside. From my Roman Catholic perspective, my time in Perth offered me an opportunity to realize firsthand that when we listen to stories, the presence of the Triune God is evident, energizing, and comforting.

Importance of Story Telling and Story Listening

The Australians have a violent history of colonization. They are not alone in this. Their treatment of indigenous, non-white, non-British immigrants and British convicts mars the history of an otherwise beautiful people who have overcome great adversities and built a thriving country full of good and gentle people. To help prepare for living among the people of Western Australia, especially the Aboriginals, it was recommended that I read “When the Blood and Bones Cry Out” by John Paul Lederach and Angela Jill Lederach. This father-daughter team relay stories from around the world about communities that have suffered the trauma of unspeakable violence. The authors highlight the struggle to recover and reconcile, searching for ways not just to survive but to heal. I read the book to help me understand the effects of trauma and the ways in which people heal from trauma. 

These communities recover and reconnect through the power of sound such as making music and telling their extraordinary stories of suffering and survival. The stories demonstrate how healing can be circular, dynamic, and continuing, even in the midst of ongoing violence. Speaking the unspeakable, in words and sounds that echo throughout traumatized communities, can have enormous healing power for those who give voice and for those who hear. The spoken word, the poem recited, and the music played, these all offer the opportunity to reverberate with the story of others.  Giving voice is part of the Hebrew and Christian primeval history. In the opening words of Genesis, for instance, we read that God speaks the world into existence. God transforms the formless wasteland and darkness covering the abyss by speaking, “Let there be light”. There are countless stories in the Hebrew and Christian scriptures of God speaking and God’s people listening. Those who listen deeply with open hearts and minds are transformed. This dynamic of continuous recovery and re-creation through sound and listening is repeated to this day, in our current times of darkness.  

Singing Bowl

This brings me to the singing bowl.  One story from the Lederach book that captivated me was the analogy drawn between the dynamic of speaking truth for healing and the effects of sound and vibration of Tibetan singing bowls. To release the beautiful music of a singing bowl requires continuous, steady, circular stroking of the rim of the bowl. What starts as an almost imperceptible sound grows in complexity until enough vibrations accumulate, sending the sound down into the depths of the bowl and back up, spilling out into the air strong and loud for all to hear. The physics of the singing bowl is used to explain the circular, dynamic healing process evident in the stories of transformation contained in this book such as a women's protest movement in Liberia that forces leaders to keep negotiating until a peace agreement is signed or the elders in Somalia who have walked between warring clans for years, returning time and time again to encourage dialogue. There is the story of former child soldiers who run drum workshops in refugee camps and one about rape victims in Sierra Leone who express their pain in poetry. These processes of recovery start small as one person’s silence was broken, and others join in with spoken words and musical sounds, gathering momentum over time with remarkable, healing results for the tellers and listeners alike. I like to think that a story is like a singing bowl with the truth inside waiting to be brought forth out of the depths for more to hear, for others to resonate with, to draw inspiration from, and perhaps to heal.

CPE and the healing power of listening

And so it was in our small CPE group. Students started slowly sharing their stories around a campfire at bush camp. For some, it was the first time for breaking the silence about an event in their lives. As trust was built over the span of the unit of study, they felt freer to expose their vulnerability. Each time we met as a group and individually, it was like another trip around the edge of the singing bowl, as words began to reverberate and resonate within the speaker and among the listeners. Eventually, as enough stories were offered and well received by the listeners, it was as if the students were able to drop down into the depth of their stories to discover the truth and meaning of what was held there. The result was tears and cries of anguish for some and joy for others. The depth of the loss, the pain of the trauma, and hidden graces were vocalized, received, and reverenced by the storyteller and the story listener. Healing began. I can testify that these students described the experience as having been touched by the healing hand of God. 

Gathering the Graces

As we gathered the graces at the conclusion of the program, one student said that we had the answer to the question posed during Orientation as to why we had been gathered from around the world.  He said it was to experience the presence of God through our storytelling and story-listening. Examples of transformation abounded. One student said she had received the gift of being heard and understood for who she really is for the first time in her life. Another said that the gift of our listening was his receiving the sense of belonging after a lifetime of being an outsider as a gay man. A third student said that he finally began the grieving process he had resisted for years following the death of his daughter, while another was grateful for beginning the healing work of forgiveness of the behavior of some of his Aboriginal ancestors.

I received the grace of more fully realizing that the beauty of any encounter including clinical pastoral education is not transactional. The beauty is in the transformation that can occur through the simple act of listening, made holy through the presence of God as we connect and resonate with one another until our souls sing.

I returned home with reverence for what I call holy listening. Holy listening is deep listening without distraction and without judgment. Holy listening conveys openness and love for the other, accepting them as they are and receiving their stories of suffering and joy. When we listen to others and are listened to, we can feel honored and valued-- cherished even. We often have a sense of release and relief. We can gain valuable insight to move forward or receive renewed energy to endure difficulty.  Transformation is the story of my time in Perth. I am grateful for having had that experience.