How does our brain look when we engage in prayer and meditation? This weekend’s Religion and Ethics Newsweekly program on PBS explores this fascinating topic.
As a nation, we spend a LOT of money on health care. It’s expensive for a couple of reasons: the amazing discoveries, technologies and research which allow for astonishing cures and healing of human suffering is expensive to create. And secondly, because we Americans have treated health care not as a right, like public education, but as a service that we purchase, like energy or food.
Because of the early national decision to treat health care as a service, the pace and cost of advances in medicine has out-stripped most Americans’ ability to pay for it themselves. Hence, the explosion in the last century of our dependence on health insurance. We have become so dependent upon it as an addition to our pay, most of us have come to think of health care as something that our insurance pays for, as if it were an additional source of revenue to our family instead of a support to the health care we purchase.
This model leaves the poor, homeless and unemployed dependent upon our hospitals’ emergency system to receive the health care they need. And because treating normal health issues in the ER is like sending a battle ship to take you fishing, this solution is not much of one. But we are so wedded to the health care as a service model, the only solution that the best minds of our day can come up with is to provide universal health care coverage.
What makes me a bit crazy about this solution is the increased dependence we all have on insurance companies. And with this increase in dependence, comes a pressure to keep costs down as they add members who may use more insurance on average than others. So while more of us are covered, the coverage shrinks in response.
While this may be good for most Americans, it has not been good at all for mental health providers. We are the lowest paid health care providers as a group in the country, and reimbursements for our work are getting smaller and smaller each year. More of us are leaving our contracts with the large insurers, and some of us begin our private practices without signing contracts at all, focusing on serving the most people we can as Out-of-Network, or non-preferred professionals.
Mental health, one of the most important of the healing arts to learn and master, is slowly being pushed out of the health care arena. If you have tried to get an appointment with a local psychiatrist lately, you will know exactly this first hand. The recession has made this shortage worse, as the larger health systems cut back on mental health clinics and out-patient therapists.
While we continue to try to solve this growing crisis, we each need to consider how important our health is to us and act proactively. We need to stop expecting doctors to fix things after we have done willing damage to ourselves either by inactivity, abuse of alcohol, food, drugs or other things we ingest. We need to limit the excesses we have come to demand of medicine, whether that be for antibiotics, plastic surgery or that third or fourth expensive test. And we need to put our money where our personal priorities are, and be willing to pay a larger portion of our own care in our daily budget.
We have grown fat, literally and figuratively, at the table of insurers. We are bloated by the expectations that medicine, physical and mental health care are paid by someone else. If it is essential to our lives, we need to add it into our budgets, just like we do when we put gas in our cars and and food on our tables. Like it or not, we buy the things we need in our economy, and we must grow to understand that all this health care is not someone else’s bill, but our own.
“In insurance we trust” could be the motto of many Americans. As more of us receive coverage, more of our income will need to be set aside for health coverage. And that is as is should be, if only so long as we commonly consider health care a service we pay for, and for which we should have choices as consumers.
As the summer ticks away, I am spending a lot of time with and for my teenagers. It has me thinking about this generation of youth, how they have been parented, and how many have bemoaned their development. I’ve written about it in my latest GoodTherapy.org blog posting. I hope you’ll visit it there, comment, and let me know how you feel about the children of the Baby Boomers.
The Vatican has just issued a new ruling that equates ordaining women to the sin of pedophilia.
How any person of Christian faith and vision can think and write this theological argument takes my breath away. While the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church is blindly adhering to their reactionary 17th Century theology and practice, the people of the contemporary American Roman Catholic community reel from the growing child abuse scandal that threatens to bankrupt every diocese and struggle with a severe and unending shortage of parish priests. Their leaders are making decisions and issuing decisions that should anger every believing Catholic. But where is the local protest?
Unlike a generation or two ago, the protest is out the door, beyond the parking lot and in the hearts and minds of the disaffected Catholic community. While many believing Catholics are struggling to do ministry, love God and neighbor, worship and educate their children in the faith, others have left the community and not looked back.
I believe that the small revisionist groups that have sprung up in and around the American RC community will, within another generation, cause a full split from the Roman leadership and create their own church. Or, at least they should. It’s time for a new Catholic reformation in America before there is no church left to reform.
The summer is a difficult time to be a church-attending believer.
The pews empty, what with church education programs closed down for summer break, clergy finally taking some long-anticipated vacation time, choirs enjoying their evenings free of rehearsals and every other family traveling somewhere. Some congregations do better than others, having a longer visiting clergy list to draw from, or a deep bench of talented musicians to call on to carry the songs and liturgies along. But the offering plates are dangerously lean, and the newsletter articles about the summer mission trips are anxious and urgent in their optimism. In those congregations where there is literally nothing between services, the hours pastors walk the halls of an empty building during a 3 service Sunday is deadening to their spirit, believe me. The church seems more dying than asleep.
The only up sides I enjoy in summer church are easier parking and longer Sundays at home. Not good indicators of a strong communal future.
I have never felt the demise of the traditional Protestant parish to be so urgent as I have in the last two years. I’m sure my late optimism was driven into me, having graduated from a traditional Midwest Lutheran seminary full of teachers and administrators educated and serving in the heyday of the institutional Church, the 1950s and ’60’s. A changing American church? They didn’t see it coming. Or if they did, they looked the other way. Ordained in 1984, I remember all the years of denominational articles, letters, programs, trainings and trips to stimulate the parish life I inherited. I knew I was captain to a ship taking on water. Members expected strength, growth and spiritual pride in their church. I bailed faster, and felt the panic deep within me. Some of that panic propelled me out of parish ministry in 2004. In the six years since, I’ve been quite focused on my training and work of family therapy. But I haven’t left.
I struggle with this common distraction and panic. Everywhere I turn, the denomination I claim as my own seems lost in a scramble for relevance. Liturgy, once rich with words and movements and rhythm has been replaced by giant screens flashing PowerPoint versions of reworded creeds. I am numbed and bored, and I don’t seem to have a place any more. The denomination I claim to be my second church home keeps moving along with a common liturgical focus and broad social net, but seems nonplussed by its lack of growth and aging congregants.
There is a new time of the Church coming, but I can’t see around the corner just yet. I’ve been reading the New Testament book of The Acts of the Apostles in the one hand, and Phyllis Tickle’s 2008 The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why in the other. This summer, with empty pews and open parking lots, the questions seem particularly urgent.