Shock Therapy

The empty chapel at Ridley Hall

It was about three weeks into my sabbatical that the fascination of the “new shiny thing” wore thin. It was then that I realized that I was undergoing a form of “shock therapy” – an experience of radical change that was aimed at a radical restructuring of my sense of reality.

Allow me to quote from my journal entry on May 15th:

“My experience at Ridley Hall is disappointing. The conditions are awful. The room is Spartan at best. No biggie there (except for two weeks of without heat). But the food is awful. Diet is less than healthy. High carbs. High fat. Almost no veg. Can you imagine a meal where you must bring your own water? No beverage of any kind except coffee/hot water at breakfast. No real salads to speak of. Veg options full of oils or strange sorts of dressings. Rarely simple greens or cooked veg with meals. There were no napkins at meals for at least four days. Lunch today was particularly messy, greasy fish patty on a bun with chips (fries) – and nothing to wipe your fingers or your mouth, Disgusting! Student discourse, of course, is largely about their courses etc. which leaves me out – for the most part. Only rarely can I seem to interject. And of course (again) it’s eat or be eaten – in and out – little graciousness in terms of ‘dining’ or conversations or the like.”

And later the same day:

“The worship has gone stale. The ‘praise’ style has quickly shown itself to be a bit shallow and vapid. Some of the talks were gifted and thought provoking – but the services far from prayerful. They’ve been a reminder to me of what their value and limitations are.”

And still later:

“There is so much atonement talk. I hear so little emphasis on the reality of the work of the Holy Spirit. I thought I might hear more about that . I am quite surprised at the lack of emphasis there. And where is discernment? Without conversation around the work of the Spirit? What of gifts? Charisms? How does one plot a way forward?”

Quite honestly, that was a dark day – and so were the days that followed – almost to the point where I began to regret my decision to come to Ridley Hall for my sabbatical study. And yet, there was something more – something that nagged and called me forward. What I realize now is that those darker days were a form of “shock therapy” – a time of radical disorientation that was designed to reorient my thinking.

All of us need a form of “shock therapy” from time to time. We all tend to associate with people of like minds and similar attitudes to our own. In American culture today, this is a great challenge – no, a great problem – as we tend to isolate ourselves within our own “tribes” of like minded folk. Some have called them “silos” of thought. Others call them “bubbles.” Regrettably, many of us have fallen into the easy trap of associating principally with people most like our selves – a form of social narcissism. It’s easier to live among people "just like me" than it is to confront the vast diversity that exists in our society and our world.

Perhaps it is nostalgia for an age gone by – before instant media access and social media presence. Confronting the differences in others was easier to navigate when we encountered those differences slowly – perhaps one person at a time. Today, we are bombarded by constant streams of information that tell us our world isn’t quite as simple as we think it to be and that we need to move outside of our comfort zones faster than we might like or even be capable of doing. Consequently, we retreat to that which we know, that which is familiar and comfortable – and in due course reject and push away anything that seems foreign or outside of our experience.

It took a while for me to adapt to the ways of Ridley Hall. I observed how others brought their beverages to the dining hall, and I soon followed suit with my renewable purple water bottle. The heating problems were soon addressed once I found the proper authority to inform. And the conversations changed tone once a sense of identity and trust was built between me and the members of the student body.

So much of what seemed so dark in the early days of my experience transformed into a genuine sense of belonging and of community – so much so that it became difficult to bid farewell to many when the time came.

Sometimes, it seems, we must be subjected to a form of “shock therapy” to help us break out of a certain way of thinking – to open us up to new ways of seeing and perceiving what God is doing in our lives. What seemed so dark and dreadful in those early days, turned out to be the opening of a new vision, a new way of seeing, a new way of thinking. In the end, it wasn’t bad after all – it was the opening that I had sought all along.