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On Kidney Stones & Ministry

By Alun Brookfield.

I realise, of course, that I’m not the first person to suffer with kidney stones. Indeed, I beg you, do not regale me with the horror stories of your experience of this extremely painful condition – I have already been regaled enough to last me a lifetime. But, lying in a hospital bed, doped up with morphine (which, interestingly, turned my whole body orange!) to mask the pain, one has plenty of time (and a gently unhinged brain) to reflect on the experience. Here are my reflections.

First, the unexpectedness of it

There I was, having done my two morning services, followed by an excellent lunch, just beginning to focus my mind on the afternoon Eucharist which was to follow. Out of the blue, I had a small pain in my left side, which grew rapidly into a big pain, and then into a pain which blotted out most of the rest of what we think of as reality. I had no inkling that this 6mm piece of rock was forming in my kidney, and it was only when it escaped and started to move downwards on its route out of my body that it forced itself upon my consciousness.

But that is the nature of human life and ministry. We have no idea what will happen tomorrow, or even in the next five minutes. Sure, we can, and should, plan, make appointments, but who is to say for certain that this or that will happen. Because of the descending pebble in my uriter, I had to cancel the whole of the rest of my life for more than a week – my whole world was turned upside-down in a matter of minutes.

In the New Testament, James reminds us that it’s all very well to make our plans, but, he goes on, “What do you know about tomorrow? How can you be so sure about your life? Instead you should say, ‘If the Lord lets us live, we will do these things’.

In other words, whatever plans we might have, God might have other plans, and they are always better than ours!

Second, the dependency of it

In a matter of half an hour, I went from hero to zero! One minute, I was a parish priest, the Diocesan Director of Stewardship, Trustee of Anglicans in World Mission, and Editor of a prestigious online journal for clergy. I was in control of my life, managing (or juggling) these various ministry responsibilities alongside my personal and family commitments with a fair degree of success. In next to no time, I was helpless, utterly dependent on the kindness and skills of friends and complete strangers, who, I have to say, were gentle, gracious and utterly marvellous.

That sense of dependency is embedded firmly in our Christian faith. The New Testament writers tell us over and over again to “Trust in the Lord with all our hearts”. Why? Because he knows far better than we ever will what’s good for us.

Third, the uncertainty of it

I admit that, when I was in the midst of the pain on Sunday and Monday, still without a firm diagnosis, I thought the worst. I actually prayed: “Lord, not like this, please”. Even on Tuesday, the doctors were still being a bit tentative about the diagnosis, which finally came on Tuesday evening. It was a time of huge uncertainty.

And yet it’s no different to the rest of life, except that the uncertainty is focussed into a short series of events. Most of the time, we ignore the uncertainty – or at least I do – and plough on with life.

But uncertainty is good for us, because it makes us reflect on our lives, perhaps change a few things, perhaps change direction big time. That’s why I don’t mind being a failure sometimes because it makes me ask hard questions of God and myself – questions that begin with Why, What, Who, Where and When. It’s in the answers to those questions that we grow as human beings a little closer to what God wants us to be.

Finally, the outcomes of it

There are many outcomes of this last week. Some of them I’ve hinted at above. But there are others. For one thing, I have a totally changed perspective on the NHS and the challenges it faces. Never again will I take it for granted.

For another, I will take my diary a little less for granted. My whole life is driven by my diary, and that’s not a bad thing, but I’ve been reminded (painfully!) that God has the final word on my lifestyle and ministry.

Finally, though, this experience has brought me closer to God. Instead of being angry with God for causing me pain, I've found that I was grateful for the time and space to rest, read and rejoice in the goodness of the people whose lives I have the privilege of sharing. Yes, I know that I had to let down a lot of people this week, unable to keep promises I had made to meet them, spend time with them, and in one case, bury the ashes of a loved one. Yet I sense that, in all this, God has been at work, doing his stuff in his usual quiet ways and I invite you to join me in giving thanks to him in all things.

Amen.