Shamans and Christians - Essay

I have a problem with people who call themselves shamans. And these days, there are a lot of them out there.

The problem I have is that in any indigenous culture there are healers, workers of what some might call earth magic. I’ve studied about these medicine men and women, and even know a couple, or have known them. As near as I can tell, they suffer tremendously from their call, “gift” or whatever you wish to call it – a curse, maybe – to do what they do. And what they do is serve the people. Their entire lives are given to their craft, much like John the Baptist who wandered the deserts, or the Old Testament prophet Samuel, whose mother presented him to a holy man for training as repayment for favor from her God. One might think that holy men and women who dedicate themselves to Creator might lead a charmed life. But on the contrary, their lives are not neat. They often suffer from madness or trickery from spirits whose joy it is to inflict such games upon the living, if those two things can indeed be separated, madness and spiritual trickery. They often operate without the tidy boundaries of dogma, learning the rules of their calling and practice as they received them from their teachers or from the spirits directly, with slight changes as needed. When they make mistakes, the consequences can cost their lives, or make a further wreck of them without warning or a way back to anything resembling an orderly life. They often live alone and if they have a partner they often live apart from their communities. They enjoy few physical comforts; fewer than the inhabitants of the people they serve, anyway. I have a friend that is studying with Naguals in the mountains in northern Mexico. One of these men, these healers, is over a century old and has never visited a city. He has sequestered himself away from the madness of human culture for the whole of his life. He has had no choice. His spirit helpers have mandated this from him. Not because he couldn’t handle the city, but because he would not be able to clearly hear their voices over the distracted, paved-over din, would not find the plants with whom he holds conversations as clear as you do with your next door neighbor, would feel a barrier that you and I don’t even know exists. Can you imagine? He’s never been to a restaurant. Never driven a car, let alone owned one. He’s never had a deep fried shrimp. But his consistency has earned him a reputation for integrity, a strict adherence to a certain set of ideals that infuse him with a peace that speaks like the voice of a tree, or a spring, or a sunset. So his people come to him, asking for assistance. And as the helpers dictate, so he acts, serves, heals … or not. He doesn’t claim to know anything. The point is that his life is not up to him, neither his lifestyle nor the results of the ceremonies he leads. He gets out of the way and does as he was taught or as he is told to do in the instance of service and accepts the outcome. Sometimes he learns as he goes, is taught in the moment. He is not wealthy in the ways you and I would think of wealth, and he doesn’t seek notoriety. After he heals, he just goes back into his little hut and does whatever is next to do.  

I have immersed myself to the best of my ability in a couple indigenous cultures, northern Native American spirituality and a form of Andean energy work that might be called shamanism. I have prayed and suffered and learned and cried and bled and driven literally thousands of miles to do so, to be taught, to feel connected to Creator in ways that I cannot feel in any other way. These things are most precious and sacred to me and I am beginning to have consistent experiences that are inexplicable to me along the lines of serving others, working in these ways. The peace I feel is thick, stonelike, grounding, yet ethereal. But I am so far removed from my friend’s teacher and other similar shamans, medicine men and women, holy healers with whom I am acquainted both directly and indirectly, that I would never say I am a shaman. If I am pressed I may say with a roll of the eyes that I am a shamanic practitioner for lack of a better term, but even that I would do apologetically. To take upon myself that sacred moniker would be disrespectful to those that so respect life that they do not come into contact with blood for any reason, that do not know what central heating is, that walk wherever they go, whose music is the wind, whose television is the sky, who know a language that we all knew at one time and that is now understood almost exclusively by the keepers of wisdom as old as stone - and those melancholy souls who are being called that way. And may God help them.

Like all true holy men and women, Jesus was a serious anomaly in his day. No one really knew what to make of him. Even Peter got it all wrong and tried to take Malchus’ ear off when Judas came to deliver Jesus to the raging rulers of the Jewry, both Israelite and Roman. What did Jesus do in response?

“Suffer ye thus far,” is what is in Luke’s record, and he healed Malchus on the spot.

Peter was so distraught that he threw down his sword and kind of gave up for the night. Can you imagine what he felt? Here he was, one of three men besides Jesus who had been on the Mount of Transfiguration, where he observed Jesus conversing with notable angels and heard the voice of God, and yet when he tried to defend his Lord in the only way he understood, he was rebuked and his effort reversed by the very “man” he was defending. I believe he was sulking when he was approached three separate times that night by people that correctly accused him of being a disciple of the doomed Jesus, and that when the cock crowed for the third time, fulfilling Jesus’ prophesy of his denial of him, he wept bitterly in deep confusion, frustration and fear. It wasn’t until he was truly converted that he knew how to serve. But significantly, that came after he gave up a feeling that he had the answers about what to do in the situation.

To restate, Peter mistook some very basic tenants of Jesus’ teachings until he gave up the idea that he knew what to do when confronted with physical harm to his teacher (and possibly himself). I find this fascinating in and of itself, but in light of what I see happening among Christians today, even more so.

The shaman has been taught to do what he does. He sacrifices the things of this world, although it’s not as much a sacrifice to him as much as one might imagine. Sacrifice is felt most acutely when one is used to the thing being sacrificed. It’s not hard for me to be ground-bound since I don’t know what it’s like to simply take wing like a bird. If I did and was then told that I could never fly again, that would be difficult no matter the benefit. Besides, a true shaman is so conversant with the spirits of all things on levels that are quantum to say the least, that the things of the spirit are just more interesting than an X-Box, a grilled-stuffed burrito or (insert semi-useful product of western culture here). More importantly, the shaman approaches his life as infused with spirit. Everything is sacred in its pure essence. The two are not disconnected in any way, life and spirit, in any moment. Everything he does affects everything in his sphere. All things see him, too, all the time. There is never anywhere to hide. And yet he goes into ceremony unknowing, letting go of his desire for a certain outcome. He’s learned that it is not up to him. This is deep spirituality, because there is no instance in the true shamans life where he is disconnected from his helpers. He can’t afford to be. And in that instance where the patient is on his table and his rattle is in his hand and the sage is wafting as it does through the air and this looks just like another situation he has experienced before, he still has to be entirely open to a change in the rules in that instant coming from his spirit helpers.

We are in a situation that may be the undoing of humanity. This is not an overstatement. Guerrilla warfare on a worldwide basis will have effects so globally devastating that we cannot imagine the outcome with our protected, conditioned minds.  It will be most effective to approach the challenges we face much as a shaman approaches a situation where a healing ceremony is called for, for healing is precisely what is needed now. We should have our tools in hand, have created sacred space (both metaphorically and literally), and most importantly, let go of the notion that we are in control, that we know what to do. It’s ok to have ideas, but just as the shaman knows to get out of the way and let God do the work, we have to be willing to admit that while this situation has its familiar portions, it is also very, very different from anything we’ve experienced in the history of humanity. The fact that different people are involved – no Hitler or Pinochet are around - makes it subject to any number of variables we have no way of foreseeing.

If we are people of faith, we will infuse a degree of humility into this situation. You may be seeing this, but I am not. What I see is rampant fear and attendant anger and millions of Peters with their hands on their swords, awaiting any reason to fall upon the wicked. I see a hatred for the foe surpassed only by those that strap bombs to their bodies or gun down innocents… but we see that among ourselves too, do we not? Colorado Springs? A holy jihad a little closer to home than Paris or Palestine? A break in the ranks of opinion of what a true Christian is? Or is it? Some people think the Colorado Springs antagonist did a most Christian thing as he defended the unborn and punished the “wicked”. So there is a break. Maybe this sense of confusion is akin to some Muslims wondering how anyone considering themselves Muslim can kill non-combatants? This tragic event has the seeds of compassion within it for all of us as we look across the aisle.

We have an opportunity here. I don’t have the answers, but God does. What can we control? Our own small sphere that is similar to the room where a shaman rattles, drums and chants. He can control his sacred space and then he lets go, doing his best to have compassion on those he is called to serve, on those that may seemingly be beyond assistance. And then he listens.

May each of us that have taken upon us the name of Jesus in whatever capacity, whether we regard him as a teacher of deep wisdom or God incarnate, consider if we are truly followers of Jesus or merely Christian-practitioners. Let us not sully the name of Jesus or those that truly devote themselves to the kind of deep spirituality that listens rather than speaks, that does not pretend to know, that wishes for the best outcome in a difficult situation – whatever that might be; the Thomas Mertons, Meister Eckharts, St. Francis’ that lived deeply in a state of acceptance, of humility, of denial of the kinds of things that might keep them from hearing the many voices of God. In short, we need to become converted, radically accepting, fundamentally changed.  

May we ask ourselves, “are we followers of Jesus… or merely Christian-practitioners”?