Healing The Priest; Faith Or Phantom

Months passed and summer turned to fall. A thick blanket of bronze colored leaves lay atop the rolling hills before me. Teams of wildlife moved about, meandering through the vast varieties of deciduous trees and into the deep basin of the Little Belle River. Mesmerized by the beautiful scene, my land line rang with startling intrusion.
“Hello Sharon, this is Jenna, the organizer of the St Joe’s medical retreat. How are you?” The conversation started with the usual greeting, and unfolded into an extraordinary request. “I’m actually calling about my very good friend and coworker, Father John at Sacred Heart Parrish in Bay City. He has shared his latest medical challenge with me: He has an inoperable brain tumor….it’s cancerous.” Struggling for composure, she continued. “I am so worried about him and just want him to feel better. The chemo and radiation have been really rough. I brought up some of the complimentary options. I told him about Healing Touch therapies and he said he’s interested.”
I took it in, digesting the latter. “Where was this conversation going?” I wondered.
She picked up her pace, “Would you be willing to provide some treatments for Father? He really wants you to come. I told him about your extensive energy healing experience, the long line at the retreat and your book.”
Cautiously, “Does he know I practice Reiki?”
“Yes, he does.”She zipped on past. “He wants to know when we can we set up an appointment for him.”
We marked the date and time on the calendar. I would go to his home at the rectory adjoining the church to room 121, October 21 at 1PM. Conversation done-we disconnected. My head reeled. Unbelievable! And here on planet Mars, I had just scheduled a Reiki appointment for a Catholic priest….against all odds, because his ruling hierarchy rejects Reiki.
My stomach tensed as I pictured myself inside his home. Would the other priests know I would be practicing Reiki? Were they accepting, too, or would I be abruptly executed? I had just read the Catholic Bishops dim views on Reiki, declaring it was superstitious with no scientific validation. Their formal “forbidding” to parishioners was on its way but hadn’t officially arrived yet. My nurse associates had worked so diligently in many Catholic hospitals to get Reiki programs running-treatments and healing education were finally underway. We veterans were elated-to finally practice healing, not just apply the band aids of drugs and surgery. Now, my heart ached, would it all dissolve?
The day came. I arrived at the church, gathered necessities and “headed in”- massage table, blanket, pillow, and materials in tow. I had meticulously prepared scientific studies from my vast data bank: my carry on case was so full, it painfully cut into my shoulder. Nervously, with pounding heart, I made it to 121. I was fully ready to discuss Reiki from the view of medicine and science- rigid studies were showing it helped with pain reduction, wound healing, bone healing, improved blood values, stress reduction and side effects of chemo. I could show him, prove its validity.
Deep Inhalation, I knock, knock, knocked.
“Come in, “a weak voice beckoned.
I entered, hauled in the circus of paraphe
alia and “illogically” prepared for battle. I still couldn’t believe I would be accepted here. Rejection had happened many times before, especially in fundamentalist settings. They previously slammed the door-‘don’t come in!’
A tall, painfully thin, very weak man was seated before me. He waved me in and pointed to a small, blue stuffed chair in front of him, “Please sit down.” His face was kind and exuded gentleness. He smiled at me, extended his hand and assured, “I am so very glad to meet you, it is the highlight of my week.”
Discomfort melted away. Formal greetings were followed by small talk and eventually on to his cancer diagnosis. His primary site was lung which progressed to brain cancer; the inoperable brain tumor was right at the core of vital life function where a surgeon’s knife could kill. And adding insult to injury, he was immersed in guilt “because he had been a heavy smoker some twenty five years ago. “I caused it and didn’t even know I was inhaling a time bomb. Most of us priests smoked until we found out the real truth about cigarettes.” Since first diagnosed, he had gotten a full load of chemotherapy and radiation. Weak and sick, he chose a break. For now ‘he wanted something gentle- healing hands therapies!’ Jenna had answered some basic questions about them and he had read my book, “Healing With Hands,” which gave him even more information.
“I have a folder full of science data including some for Therapeutic Touch, the most researched area of all of modern nursing. Would you like to read it? I can leave whatever you want.” I extended the pile.
“No thank you.” He shook his head. It took a while before he could say,” I feel so sick; could we just get started? Please help me onto your table.” Father tried to stand but wobbled and needed help in taking steps. ”Just do the healing treatment you do for others, I trust you.”
Misery had long set into his physical body. It took some time to position him comfortably: he was so tall, his feet draped far over the end of the table. Blankets and pillows all affray, he finally settled down.
Just as I started the session, I could hear his breathing change. He relaxed, fell asleep and soon began to snore. I completed the treatment in silence, combining Reiki, Polarity, Therapeutic Touch and Esoteric healing patterns. I asked God for the perfect outcome, it was not in my control. At the end of the treatment, Father stirred. He awoke, slowly sat up and stretched. ‘Just sit still, I’ll help you down, “I warned. “But first, tell me how that went for you.’
He reported he felt ‘refreshed, rejuvenated and sensed less pain in his body.’ He got off the table with ease.