Easter Sunday

There is a most profound question that is raised on Easter Morning.  It is posed by two men in dazzling garments who appear in a tomb, a burial chamber, to people who have come to verify the presence of a corpse.  The shock must have been incredible and the question more than compelling.  They asked, "Why do you seek the living one among the dead?"  This remains as intriguing now as it was two thousand years ago.  There is an empty tomb where we expected an abomination.  There are angels when we anticipated the horrific.  There is new life where we foresaw death.

We are called out of bondage on Easter.  We are called out of our narrow thinking and limited perspective into a new dimension of understanding.  It transcends the boundaries of religion, government and ideas about ourselves.  We are called to a new life without the comfort of "black and white" even to the extent that death is no longer death.  Earthbound eyes can no longer be fully trusted.  The spiritual experience is no longer separate or something that happens outside of us.  We don't have to wait for an apocalypse to find salvation.  The salvation has already been given freely to one and to all.  The kingdom and Easter are within each of us right here...right now.

The Easter Vigil

There comes a time when someone dies who we love dearly.  It is devastating.  Family and friends surround us, bring food and support that is at least vaguely comforting.  The funeral and burial happen in a matter of such a short time.  Then we are left alone.  There are promises, some of them kept, of staying in touch.  But within a few days we are on our own.  People go about the business of living and so must we.  The silence and emptiness is unbelievable.  It is a time of being between two worlds.  Nothing seems real anymore and we reside in a state of unknowing.  Our relationship with life is being redefined.  This experience is played out in The Great Easter Vigil.

Only a part of Christianity observes The Easter Vigil.  I'm not sure why it isn't more universal because the ritual is quite powerful.  The church is stripped of all vestments and ornamentation on Thursday night and remains barren through Good Friday and all day Saturday.  The water is drained from the fonts.  Lights are extinguished.  It is dark, silent and empty.  This is that period of in-between that we suffer after the funeral when family and friends depart.  Visiting the church during this time prior to the Easter Vigil is somehow comforting.  It gives us a sense of the universal experience of grief.  Then the most wonderful thing happens at dusk.  People gather outside of the church where a fire is started.  The priest lights the Easter candle from the fire and then everyone lights their own candle from it.  The light is returned to the inside of the church.  It is the victory of light over the darkness, good over evil, love over hatred and joy over sorrow.  This is the promise of new beginnings.

Woundedness

There is no possible way to avoid the bruises and wounds that are received in life.  They begin at our very birth and continue until death.  Bruises and scrapes certainly hurt and are troublesome but we move on despite them.  Wounds, however, are another matter and demand attention. Sometimes a wound feels so dark, deep and ponderous that it becomes a black hole from which nothing can escape.  It is unbearable.  No light can escape from the prison of injury.  Our entire lives seem to be sucked in and defined by the wound.  Any joy or happiness that came before seem distant and remote, almost as if they never happened at all.  We have been stripped of our defenses exposing our vulnerability and mortality.  The trauma has overcome us.

I am reminded of a version of The Fisher King when I think of woundedness.  This tale is of Arthur who receives what would have been a mortal wound at the hand of The Black Knight.  He is carried to an inner chamber where it is expected that he would die.  The magical relationship that Arthur has with Merlin, however, makes death impossible.  He lingers on and on as the wound drains and festers in horrible fashion.  Merlin appears and informs Arthur that he can only be healed by water being poured from the Holy Grail (the cup that Jesus used at The Last Supper) over the affected area,  Arthur sends his knights to the four corners of the world in search of the Grail.  Each returns empty handed despite the most fervent efforts.  One day the king's cook is preparing dinner for Arthur and decides that he just cannot bear to carry the meal to him.  He is sickened by the grotesque, odorous wound.  He snatches a young boy who he has taken in as an apprentice and sends him with the meal to Arthur.  The boy approaches the king, unsure that he has found the right person at all.  Arthur groans, "What is your business here boy?" to which he replies, "I have come to bring food to the king.  Do you know where I might find him?"  "I am your king" says Arthur.  The boy looks doubtfully stating that he doesn't look much like a king.  Arthur goes on to tell him about the battle, the wound, the magic and the Grail.  The boy asks how one might even recognize such a cup and the king describes it as an ancient, simple wooden vessel made by a carpenter.  Perhaps it was rather rough-hewn but beautiful to behold.  None of his knights could find it and Arthur was ready to give up hope.  The boy summoned all of his courage and with wide eyes said, "I have seen such a cup!"  The king responds in disbelief asking where it might be.  The boy tells him that it is just behind the curtain a few feet from the place where Arthur lay.  He confesses that he sometimes hid behind the curtain and peeked at the curious patient with the horrible gash not knowing he was the king.  Arthur orders him to retrieve it.  The boy fills it with water which is poured over the wound.  The miraculous healing is instantaneous.  The king is saved, he adopts the boy, and...well you know.

It is difficult to understand that the wounds we receive throughout our lives are the very source of our strength, character and identity.  This is the lesson of Good Friday.  The healing that happens as we endure and overcome them makes us aware of the part of ourselves that is invulnerable to being wounded.  We transcend the wounding and our wholeness becomes realized.  Like Arthur we are led to the realization that the healing power was always within our grasp.  It cannot be obtained through will or force but only through childlike trust.  Then when we ask for help it is given.  Like Jesus, and with Jesus, we will transcend it all.

Betrayal

We certainly don’t like to talk or even to think about betrayal.  The concept is disturbing and the act seemingly unforgiveable.  Playwright Steven Dietz said: “One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal, though ... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope.” Yet, we have all been recipient of it.  In fact, we have all committed at least small betrayals even to those that we love the most.  How victimized we feel when betrayed.  How diligently we try to hide our betrayals.  There is anger and sadness on one side, shame and guilt on the other.  No other action draws such deep emotions.  We ask the pitiable question: “Why would they do this to me?”  And there is no answer to follow.  The one who betrays slinks into the night.

The greater the trust that one puts in another person, the greater the impact the betrayal has. The impact is always enormous. We feel as if we will never be able to trust anyone again.  How can we ever allow ourselves to become vulnerable in the future?  There comes an utter sense of helplessness.  Then the pain and passive sense of loss turns active. The presence of retaliation looms heavy.  This scene plays out as we mark Holy Thursday.  Jesus is betrayed by a kiss from his dear friend.  Confusion turns into violence as Peter draws his sword and cuts off the ear of a soldier.  But Jesus’ response is stunning.  He stops Peter and restores the soldier’s ear with his healing hand.  His action forgives his betrayers.

If it is true that we are both betrayed and betrayer, we must search for the common humanity that exists in both.  The confidences that have been compromised, the love that has been scorned and the trust that has been stolen beg for only one remedy.  That single antidote for the poison of betrayal is forgiveness.  Separation, isolation, resentment, woundedness, and rage can only destroy both victim and perpetrator.  Neither can continue to exist with any measure of real hope without forgiveness.  It may seem a bitter pill in many ways, but forgiveness is the vital medicine for healing betrayal.

I will begin to forgive those who have betrayed me and pray for forgiveness from those who I have betrayed.

New Beginnings

Easter and Passover remind us that we have the incredible opportunity to begin again with each sunrise.  The things that did not turn out well, disappointments, tragedies and troubles of yesterday have vanished into thin air.  The new beginning is here and now.  How can we ever imagine the amazing things that might happen if we fully participate in the process of today as it unfolds?  We drop the idea of expectations and adopt an attitude of gratitude.  Of course good things will happen and some tough ones too.  The outcomes are determined by our positive thinking and resolution of beginning anew.

Walter Winchel once said that we should: "Remember today, for it is the beginning of always. Today marks the start of a brave new future filled with all your dreams can hold. Think truly to the future and make those dreams come true.”   We give up on dreams too easily.  They take a back seat to the daily grind of obligations.  I once had a young patient who was struggling with very painful issues of abuse and addiction.  He was only 14.  The gritty determination to be well that he had was inspiring.  At the close of his treatment he was on the road to real healing.  His mother asked for a few moments after his last session.  She thanked me for all of the help and began to weep.  What would become of her when Shane graduated from high school in a few years and she was left alone?  Her whole life had been dedicated, as a single Mom, to raising her only child.  Her dreams of becoming an attorney had dissolved along with her marriage years ago.  I asked her a simple question.  What would it take to start studying to be a lawyer right now?  She was dumbfounded.  That was a ridiculous question.  She could only possibly work in one class a semester (and that would be damn hard).  It would take ten years at least.  I asked another question followed by a statement.  What will happen if you don't do it?  In ten years you will be alone, working at a job that you hate.  Or you can be a lawyer in ten years.  The choice is yours.  She looked at me strangely, thanked me, and left.

I was living in the mountains of North Carolina three years after that conversation in Champaign, Illinois with Shane and his mother.  I got a phone call one evening and it was Shane.  He was bubbling over with news that he had just graduated from high school.  I congratulated him and told him how proud I was.  We talked for a few minutes and he asked if I would like to say hello to his Mom.  I agreed and he put her on the phone.  We were both thrilled for her boy.  Then she told me her own great story.  She had pursued the idea that we had talked about three years ago and things had gone well.  Very well.  Her announcement floored me.  She was going to sit for the Illinois Bar that summer.  Her dreams had come true.  Her positive spin on 'can do and will do' had changed her life.

The next time we face a difficulty we have a chance to wrestle with a ‘can do and will do’ state of mind.  We ‘can and will’ improve our situation rather than agonize over it.  We ‘can and will’ have the life that we have dreamed of having.  The only thing that can stop us is giving in and giving up. 

Living The Questions

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” 

~ Rainer Maria Rilke (Letters to A Young Poet)

The spiritual concept of “living the questions” has been somewhat maligned by religious fundamentalists for the past several years.  It has been misunderstood as a modernistic, self centered approach that threatens the institutional Church.  The answers, it is said, are readily available in scripture and the teachings of those chosen to lead their congregations.  There is some truth to this.  Institutions always fear that which might challenge doctrine.  These kinds of challenges have historically created chaos which threatened the very foundations of religion.  Martin Luther’s confrontation, for example, set Christianity on a path that ultimately changed the way that people worshiped and fragmented the Church into many segments.  Living the questions sets us on a course of individual exploration.  It does not confine us to established doctrine.  It is important to remember, however, is that it does not discount or discard that doctrine either.

God gives us a grand invitation to be something new in the world. Living the questions is about following a path into the answers rather than accepting someone else’s solutions. When we live the questions in our conversations, we are in dialogue with the people around us. When we live the questions as a way of life, we are in dialogue with life, itself. When we live our questions, we are always discovering new answers to them. Perhaps we shouldn't even speak of "answers". Perhaps living a question, living an inquiry, is like living with a fruit tree that continually generates fruit for our nourishment. There is never anything final about any particular apple from an apple tree. More will follow. They don't answer, they just nourish. Ultimately, questions can take us deeper into the meaning of our lives.

There are questions that lie hidden in our hearts. We notice them living within us if we look at our past and present lives with care. Some have been with us for many years; some may be fresh and new. Some may excite us; others terrify us into keeping them hidden. How we can learn to live these questions creatively, so that they move us toward living into the answer? We begin by recognizing and honoring the questions that we are already living. This is difficult because living the questions can be uncomfortable. Ours is not a culture comfortable with ambiguity: we want certainty, a clear-cut solution; we want to know what's right and what's wrong. Questions are meant to have immediate answers, so those that don't lend themselves to obvious or convenient answers get hidden away.

Some of the most disturbing questions are those that we have been asking since we were quite young. Who am I? Where am I going? What does this all mean? There is substantial work to be done in following these. God asks us questions that are meant to lead us. Scripture offers us the first question from God to man: “And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day; and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden. And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, ‘Where art thou?’

Where are you? Are you where your body is? Or where your mind is? Are you living fully in the pain and frustrations of the present? Or are you daydreaming about some past that never really was? Or fantasizing about some future that never will be? Are you standing up to be counted? Or are you going along with the crowd? Are you accepting the cost of your freedom? Or are you hiding among the trees of the garden? “Where are you”, the first question from God to man. Questions are very valuable. Our culture rushes for answers, but no answer means anything until we have followed the question.

We are afraid of questions. We think questions make us seem stupid or incompetent. The questions actually are our entrances to larger life. Not what we already know but what we have yet to learn is our growing edge. The poet Rilke counsels us to learn to love our questions. I believe there is a loving God, that God loves me, and that God loves all human beings exactly as God loves me. Following the questions is about this very faith. Faith is not only the decision to risk; it is also the power to make that decision. It is the courage to be, to affirm yourself in the face of all that denies us.

Following the questions gives us an insight. It gives us the ability to say YES to ourselves when everyone seems to be shouting NO. It is also about being able to listen to that NO and hear what message it is sending from which we can profit. It takes a leap of faith toward a spiritual dimension. When we refuse to discount that NO but accept it as a component of our own path toward the answer, we are no longer bound by the model that set by those who are shouting NO. We will find the freedom to continue our search and point ourselves in the direction of God. We will be able to respond to God’s question “Where are you” with the answer “Here I am”. We will trust that if we move today by the finite and partial light that is given us that we will know more and different things tomorrow than we know today. We can be open to new possibilities that we cannot even imagine today.

A Sense of Humor

Uncle Milty with Lucy and Ricky (Now that's funny!)



Angels can fly because they take themselves so lightly.  This phrase is attributed to Gilbert Keith Chesterton.  He is obviously reminding us that we adults mostly engage in a somber approach to our daily lives.  We forget to appreciate the humor and fun that accompany us.  We do battle with our work, our finances and even our recreation, friends and families.  We take inventory at the end of the day of what we have accomplished. We examine our to-do lists as if we have to prove we are worthy of breathing air. One of the paradoxes of life is that by taking ourselves lightly, we are actually better able to frame ourselves and our work more seriously.  There seems to be an effort afoot to hide this great truth.  It is not unusual to see grim faced people working at our grocery stores, banks, retail businesses and churches.  They seem to be burdened with all of the great weight of the world.  This demeanor is so prevalent that anyone who greets us with cheerfulness is almost suspect.  What is happening to our collective sense of humor?

I work in a field of dire circumstances.  The people that I serve (and who serve me) are engaged in a life and death struggle between addiction and recovery.  Yesterday, I encountered a young man who embodies good humor.  He has suffered plenty of loss due to his addictive disease yet continues to find fun in life.  Tom sat across from me in my office and began to weave fun into our conversation.  "Can my dog benefit from buprenorphine?" he asked.  I was caught off guard and stammered out some line about dogs having similar pain receptors to humans and all mammals.  This was his opportunity to spin a tale of doggie pain due to a medical condition, a veterinarian who admonished him for titrating the poor little guy too quickly off of his pain medications and finally the pet's withdrawal symptoms.  Fido was sniffing at the medicine cabinet. Would Suboxone be an appropriate measure?  I finally got it and joined in the fun.  We talked in mock seriousness about Doggie-Anon and Pet Narcotics Anonymous.  It was just great.  Tom has not only embraced his own recovery but is having a good time with it.  He is taking himself lightly.

There is certainly a time to grieve.  There is also a time to celebrate and live life fully.  We need to take notice of all the beauty and riches that surround us.  We are not called to mourn our lives away but to give thanks, receive pleasure and be good to one another.  It is time to have a good laugh.  Let's break some of our adult habits and let loose with a joke.  It will do no harm.  Let's lighten up and fly with the angels.  By the way...we are starting a chapter of NAP (Narcotics Anonymous for Pets) in Greenville, SC.  Feel free to google us and bring your dog or cat to the next meeting.  But only if they have admitted that they are powerless. SERIOUSLY.