A Heart of Stone

“I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26

As a chaplain to federal offenders my ears hear many stories of brokenness, pain…and hope.

My mind processes much of this information based on my experience. My experience is informed by myriad factors such as cultural context, family, education, etc…

My heart processes much of this information and experience based not only on the processes of my mind but seemingly by something that, based solely on my experience, is malleable and yes, even drastically changeable. These changes seem to well up inside me from a place I can comfortably describe as my spirit; that part of me which yearns to be in union with the very essence of unity itself. I sense this source of unity as embrace, love, peace, abundance and freedom.

Thomas Merton put it this way, “Living is the constant adjustment of thought to life and life to thought in such a way that we are always growing, always experiencing new things in the old and old things in the new.”

As a sailor this reminds me of the constant trimming of sails and subtle heading changes (and sometime tacks and jibes) to get where you desire to go.

In the book of Revelation 21:5 it is written, “Behold, I am making all things new” as Paul encourages us in his letter to the Philippians to set our minds on higher things, noble things, pure things, holy things, honourable things, commendable things.

I did not always live out of this place of oneness; this place of freedom. I chose through rightly or wrongly ordered desires (insert much debate here), to make decisions based on something that has changed in my spirit, my heart and my mind. It is interesting to me that I no longer desire things that I once desired; I no longer fear that which I once feared. On a personal level these inner changes in my psyche interest me as a sort of self-study. I don’t want to make too much of it but, likewise, I don’t want to pretend that it isn’t true. There has been a stirring deep within me for many years and the more I trust it the more whole I feel.

So, when I hear others reflect on similar themes I am intrigued. Recently in a group session with federal offenders a man attempted to describe how he had felt “nothing” inside. He struggled to put words to the emptiness that he felt before going into prison. He could not use an emotion to describe this emptiness or a facial expression to capture how the feeling might look if projected onto a human face. It was a void, he said, “incapable of feeling”.

He went on to explain that a crack of light began to penetrate this deep void when he accepted the gravity of what he did. He had gotten to a place where he accepted responsibility for his crime. Yes, there were mitigating realities in his life that may have served him a handicap in good decision making but he seemed to fully accept that his decision to go down a path of criminal behaviour was his. He owned up to his responsibility in this. His total responsibility.  With this acceptance of responsibility he began to understand that not only what he did was wrong but that it created victims. He caused people considerable pain. He described this moment (after a year of therapy, prayer, meditation and self-examination) as the moment that he began to feel something in that pre-existing void. He felt guilty and even shameful that he had done this. He also began to feel empathy for all those who have suffered as a result of his past.

I may write later on the difference between guilt and shame. The former is a healthy response to past regret; the latter is never healthy and must be dealt with for a healthy redefinition of self-worth and healthy living. It is not healthy to have an identity built in shame.

He went on to describe his previous inner life, the void, like that of an empty rock quarry. Large boulders, no grass or trees; no sign of life whatsoever. After his accepted responsibility for what he did empathy for his victims seemed to open up the flood gates of emotion. The water of his tears seemed to drench the parch soil of the rock quarry that was his inner life, his heart. Large boulders began to crack open as grass and vegetation sprung up. His inner life began to transition from a void, a rock quarry, to a garden; from a stony void to a place of life.

Empathy was the path. It was there he realized the beauty of the other and the embrace that is still freely and lovingly offered to even him. He began to realize that he is worthy of love.

“I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 36:26