Post-traumatic stress syndrome and the missionary

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, is an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which grave physical harm occurred or was threatened. Traumatic events that may trigger PTSD include violent personal assaults, natural or human-caused disasters, accidents, or military combat.

When I was a child, I can remember jokes being made about some veterans. You know, those veterans who ducked when a car backfired. Or those veterans about whom we would joke that we could shout, “incoming” and they would drop to the ground. Yes, those were funny jokes when we were kids. And, in those days, post-traumatic stress disorder had not yet been well-defined. Mind you, since World War I people have known that soldiers could end up being shell-shocked. World War II was so intense that there were quite a few cases of combat fatigue or combat stress. Mind you, not all cases of shell-shock or combat fatigue end up in PTSD.

What we often do not realize is that missionaries are also subject to PTSD. There are many faithful missionaries who have served under awful conditions for many years. When I was in Perú, I met an Anglican bishop who faithfully served in Lima during the bombing campaign of the Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) guerrillas. Between 1988 to 1992, the bombing campaign in Lima brought the country to near anarchy. That bishop stayed in Lima, despite the fact that, as a British citizen, he could have returned to Great Britain and lived safely. But, he was assigned and he was not about to leave.

I knew that bishop. He was my bishop. He would come and see us in Bolivia periodically. At least once (maybe it was twice), I visited him in Lima. I remember driving past the bombed out buildings. It really did look like something out of a cheap war movie, in certain parts of Miramar, Lima. I remember a story he told of having to be sneaked into one of the churches in the shantytowns of Lima. He had to lay down in a van under a blanket so that people would not see him go or return. But he went because his people needed him and he was not going to let terrorists get between him and his pastoral ministry.

And, did I mention that at least 400 religious workers were deliberately killed by Shining Path during their years there? I have not yet told you the story of the missionary woman I met in Perú, whose husband was one of the 400 killed. Neither have I told you the story of the priest that my wife and I met in Bolivia who had had to hide in the rafters of his church when Shining Path invaded his small village and was asking every one where he was. Those were hard and difficult times.

Eventually, my wife and I, too, were stationed in Perú, but, by then, Shining Path had been mostly defeated. There was only once that I could not go visit the indigenous village with which I worked, due to a possible Shining Path incursion. But, the bishop did not last much longer in the country. Once Abizmael Guzmán was captured, it was less than a year until the bishop resigned and returned to Great Britain. He had done his job. He had hung in there. But, he had taken damage. Not severe damage, but enough that he needed to return home, and enough that he was done being a bishop.

He returned to Great Britain to be a local church pastor. As best I know, he has never again served formally as a bishop of a diocese. Upon his return, he was also named as assistant bishop to the bishop of the diocese in which he was a pastor. But, that was more honorary than anything else. Once in a while he would do a confirmation. And, he received the honors due a bishop at diocesan meetings. But, he appears to have no more desire to have responsibility over multiple priests again.

He served honorably. He served bravely. For him awaits the crown of life given to faithful servants. May God also give him a full healing in this life.