Alternate forms of healing: a preface to the series.

Modem medicine may be something like Solomon's Temple. Built upon tested foundations, one stone upon another, her towering walls commanding the view of all, so magnificent a structure was this Temple that the people of Jerusalem were inclined to forget that God once dwelt in the tents of their fathers. Nor was it easier for the priesthood within. With few windows opening outward and fewer reasons for opening them, those who had been set apart for the service of their Lord seldom saw His hand at work in the streets below. The Temple priesthood discerned only the altars of Baal in the faint smell of distant burnt offerings, though some were offered up with a purity of faith more pleasing to God than the high ritual of the Temple. And when at last the Temple stood no more, it was not for want of solid foundations or well-plumbed stones. Nor did it really yield to the torches and battering rams ofNebuchadnezzar. It is said by the Prophet Jeremiah to have fallen because the Word ofthe Lord could no longerbe distinguished from the babble ofthe cultists through the Temple's massive walls [1]. As a minister, I know something about religious imperialism, about the way a dominant faith group can limit the validity and even the visibility of all others. My own denomination (Congregational) dominated the New England scene during the Colonial period to the virtual exclusion of all other religious expression. So I have developed some sensitivities to the dangers of a Temple mentality from within my own tradition. For the past ten years I have also lived within the world ofmodern medicine. My position as Chaplain to the Yale University School ofMedicine has allowed me remarkable freedom to explore the ways that medicine is learned and practiced. It has been interesting to compare religion and medicine from the inside, to examine their respective goals, their beliefs about themselves, and their ways of training for the profession. Among the many differences between the two professions, I have been impressed most deeply by medicine's ability to blend theory and practice in a setting of responsible service to persons. This ministry has yet to do, especially in theological education. But the similarities between religion and medicine have been as striking. Most impelling is that each has its "orthodoxy," an accepted set of ideas and practices that are taught as though none other existed. When "alternate forms" of religion and medicine are proposed, they are shunned-not so much in hostility as in indifference. The unorthodox is "ignored" in the root meaning of this word; i.e., 53