Calling all Sin-Eaters
I sat across from my consultation group leader and listened as he described a sin-eater. We were discussing a case in our staff meeting as my supervisor said, “it seems as though we have to eat the sins of the system”. There was a book that was calling my name and as I read it, I came across a chapter called Sin-Eater. If those aren’t signs from the Universe to do a deep-dive, I don’t know what are?!
Unfortunately, I have been struggling to write this post for well over 4 months. I’m resisting the plunge into the pool of sin-eating for reasons without words but only sensations of wrenching suffocation. Going over in my head whether or not this is applicable, important, or just plain ol’ ridiculous has become dizzying for me. For some unfamiliar reason, the words sin-eater continue to randomly present themselves or I am somehow saying them to someone. So it’s time, damnit… I’m plunging in: I’m your Modern Day Sin-Eater.
Before I explain why I identify as a Sin-Eater, let’s take a look at this historically: Back in early history Welsh villages, British colonies, Tribal communities, and a few Irish territories used a sin-eater to absolve the sins of the dead. The Welsh, British, and Irish tradition transitioned from using animals (this is where “scapegoat” came from) to using a human. This sin-eater would be the village outcast who would be summoned to drink ale and eat a loaf of bread off of the stomach of a corpse as a way to transfer sins from the dead, to the living, and save the soul of the one that has passed. This poor bastard would get paid a few pennies, get a liver full of alcohol, and have a few meals; even if it was served on a corpse table. Tribal communities however did this a little differently: A member of the tribe would be chosen for their spiritual strength to consume a loaf of bread that was baked with hair or nail clippings. These personal effects would be plucked from a deviant or afflicted tribal member. The stealthy chosen One would nullify the negative energy by consumption and save the tribe and the emotionally disturbed member. Regardless of the region of the sin-eater, they were both highly regarded as well as shunned.
So how am I a Modern Day Sin-Eater? Thankfully, I’m not eating bread that was kneaded with nail clippings! But...I’m a Social Worker who specializes in addiction and compulsive behaviors. There has never been a time that I introduced myself at a bar or a party and of course the follow up question is “and what do you do?” My response usually gets a “oh wow that must be hard...will you excuse me?” or the glass in their hand gets lowered as they say “don’t judge me, this is only my second beer” and they eventually slink away. I’m revered and at the same time snubbed.
Okay I get it... People have some sympathy for us who work with societies castaways or the folks that struggle to get their shit together. And it makes total sense that you’re worried that I’m over here in the back corner watching you wolf down all the Doritos or slug back 4 drinks in under an hour, sure…I may have actually seen that! People are right that I am an observer and I do conduct assessments, but not when I’m off the clock. Being an observer and facilitating assessments is just on the exterior of what I do. On the interior of my sessions, I gobble the sins of infidelity, insecurity, relapse/reoccurrence, rape, incest, neglect, rage, and deep emotional pain. I drink down the lack of insurance coverage, high deductibles, poor economics, debilitating fear, micromanaging and power hungry bosses. I’m given minimal means to ingest these sins since I’m not a psychiatrist nor have I written a book that lands me a spot on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday. We sin-eaters are under-acknowledged and definitely under- appreciated in the broader sense of the world.
After I’ve seen the last human of my day, usually at 9pm, I walk back to my home and feel the fullness in my belly of being overfed. The intoxication that swirls my brain was brought on by gulping down those sins which in turn make me feel dizzy, nauseous, and heavy. I wake up the next morning with gratitude for the lightness I feel, set my intention for the day, and meditate on how I can stretch my belly so I can ingest one more bite and increase my tolerance to drink just a nip more today. I will sometimes be lucky enough to receive a response from The Great Spirit during meditation as She whispers a message of kindness, compassion, or patience in my ear. My stomach begins to growl.
Today’s talk-therapy is just one of the many ways we save the souls of the living; the reiki master holding their stones, the teacher calling DCFS, the content moderators that scroll through the world wide web, and many more. We are bravely taking on what is emotionally and physically killing those that cross my threshold. And...The people that call upon me are the bravest. They are the warriors that realize they can no longer take on the pain of their family, the community, and our society. I have never regretted being a sin-eater because I am a healer. I teach people to thrive in their recovery as well as in their life. My sessions are healing sessions where tired bodies come to rest and l eat and drink the stories of shame and pain. I cleanse their humanness and validate their tendency to go against norms. As an empathic healer and a trained mental health clinician, I see the disguises people wear to protect themselves in our exhausting world. I try to create an environment that is safe where you can shed who you have been told to be and step into who you truly are.