On the Ravine & Our Response to the Opioid Crisis

 

I've just finished Giller Prize winner Vincent Lam's latest novel, On the Ravine. It is set in Toronto and the ravine of the title is one of many in that city, homes to wildlife and those who are "living rough" for many reasons, including addictions. Lam is a physician whose central character, Dr. Chen, treats patients who are drug addicted with professionalism, honesty, and compassion. There are several other important characters, principally a talented violinist who has become increasingly dependent on drugs she began using to address an physical injury which hampered her playing. 

I'm still processing how I feel about On the Ravine.  At times it felt clinical, which perhaps makes sense because Chen works out of a clinic and is also involved in clinical trials for a new drug based on a traditional South American herbal medicine. I can't say I related strongly to any of the characters yet Lam does a remarkable job of story-telling, sharing the complexities of what leads to addiction, the challenges of effective treatment, and the monetization of drugs, both through illicit dealing and the pharmaceutical industry.

On the Ravine is well worth reading, especially given the expanding opioid crisis in Canada, a blight which results in thousands of deaths a year. Governments struggle with how to respond and are often criticized if the solutions they explore, such as decriminalization and safe injection sites, because they are viewed as too lenient. 

As a society we are ambivalent about addiction, often regarding it as a moral failure which should be punished. As I read On the Ravine I thought about the responses,or lack thereof, by faith communities through the years. Many congregations have made their facilities available for Alcoholics Anonymous groups or others like AA. There is a specifically Christian equivalent offered in some evangelical churches which links conversion to recovery. When in Sudbury a Sex Addicts Anonymous group met in our facility for a short period under great secrecy and I resisted the temptation to hang around one evening to see who showed up. 

As a minister I had pastoral interactions with folk who were struggling with gambling, drinking, and drug use, usually without others in the congregation being aware of the crisis others in the pews/seats were experiencing. The individuals and their families often felt shame and feared judgement. I usually felt helpless and ill-informed about where to turn for support. I still feel that our collective responses were inadequate and that even when we spoke of acceptance in Christ we just didn't address this reality openly and honestly enough. 

As so many congregations struggle for survival and our United Church shrinks as an entity its hard to imagine that we'll muster the resources, human and otherwise, to respond to what seems to be a greater crisis than ever. We can pay attention to what is happening all around us and to respond with compassion and Christ's love as people, real persons, attempt to climb out the ravine of addiction.