Something in the Water
Dear Friend,
Call it an occupational hazard.
There are many such hazards of having spent a couple of years as a mental health therapist before an abrupt, unplanned medical retirement. But one of the primary hazards is that I’ve lost faith in my ability to find the right - or even the right combination of bio-psycho-social-spiritual boxes/theories/models into which I might fit each incredibly complex human being. This is no lament, and I don’t grieve this loss. Not at all.
I embrace it.
Who am I, after all, to sort the world of creatures who the God whose imagination and creativity defies my senses or even my ability to make sense of my senses, or to explain why a client does as he/she does, or believes what he/she believes so that I might help him/her find that little tweak that would allow them to live a more fulfilling and rewarding life - the one which they had always sort of suspected was meant for them all along.
Just suppose there is no such trick, or suppose that even if there was, it is beyond my ability to divine. Suppose there are mysteries, and countless many of them, that defy such reductionist cause and effect explanations.
That may sound like despair to you, and I get it. When you swim in an aquarium where every fellow-fish seems to have accepted the idea that…,
“Every problem is simply awaiting a solution, and that with enough hard work and determination, we can and will find it: Any lasting failure (mental, physical, psychological, social, or spiritual) becomes, by definition, a moral failure, insofar as we have the ability to change ourselves, to mold ourselves into better holier, creatures through grit and determination. And the only thing that prevents us from doing so is our own lack of want to.
Lack of want-to, is, of course, the very definition of moral failing. It betrays the very worst part of our human weakness - the limits of our determination, which we have somehow convinced ourselves are ours to expand through our superior moral integrity, and had work, and to surrender that control is weakness and moral frailty. In the aquarium, “surrender” is synonymous with “quitting” and in the water in which we swim, can you think of any moral failing worse than quitting?
…it might sound like despair.
But if we accept this as true, as I have spent most of my life accepting, would that suggest that Grace is optional, or worse, just for the weak and morally inferior. That I don’t need God or God’s grace. I just need to be better, to do better, to try harder, to strive and to power through, and to assume greater responsibility for my own salvation, my own betterment, and my own holiness.
I lost count of how many times I heard somebody say to Abi, “You’ll beat this cancer. You are strong.” And every time I heard it, I died a little, and hoped she did not hear, “If you do not beat this, it must mean that you are weak, or that you have failed, or that you haven’t prayed the right prayer, or that you ought to be ashamed when cancer (inevitably) advances.”
Let me be clear. I don’t think that is what people were trying to say. They were trying to be hopeful. Helpful. And on the one hand I appreciated their words. But the words betrayed a completely irrational and utterly false faith, a faith that butts right up to the edge of an egoic religion, that insists our ability to control the uncontrollable reflects moral fiber and just the right amount of want-to. I don’t really blame them. It’s in the water, after all. Still, I hope she was able to reject the suggestion that succumbing to cancer was weakness or failure.
Because, of course, it was/is neither of those things. I am convinced we cannot organic diet, try, exercise, or strong our cancer away, any more than we can transform ourselves into oak trees. Yet, even at fifty-nine, I often waver in that conviction. No doubt, we can do some of those things, and I am not suggesting they are never helpful. Though I really want to believe results are mine to command, they are certainly not. Results vary, no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves that we are in control, or that this action will inevitably lead to that outcome. No. In the end, I think, it’s grace, and only grace that stirs us from our sleep each morning, and grace that invites us into God’s new morning mercies.
As I reconsider the account of the fall in Eden, it jumps out to me that one reading suggests Adam and Eve were doing this very thing - trying to manage their own enlightenment and spiritual health, rather than trusting God’s design for them. And I get it. Had I been there with them, believing as I did (and sometimes still do), that my spiritual development rests, at least in some measure, on my own efforts, I could would have convinced myself that to refuse the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil was to reject my own responsibility to improve my very own self - and instead of doing my part, I would be depending entirely on God’s grace, and failing to assume any personal responsibility for my own life. Doesn’t it?
Can you see how easy a trap this might be to fall into? I am pretty sure I would have jumped right into it, and I would likely have picked the tree clean and set up a farmer’s stand to hand out free fruit to all the other creatures in the garden, and believed I was somehow better holier for having done so. I often wonder if I do this now and still.
Doesn’t the serpent still live among us?
To me, anyway-it’s way, way harder to surrender to God’s grace than it is to white knuckle (even imagined) control of my own spirituality, especially in a culture that is determined to tell me that I am cheapening grace by accepting it so freely.
In my highly imperfect view, I cheapen grace not by accepting it so freely, but by trying to add to it with my own efforts, as if it were not sufficient on its own. As if God needed a hand from me. And I am wondering these days if that might be an even more accurate definition of sin. The belief that grace without me is insufficient. I recognize that won’t sit well with everyone. I get it. Grace is weird. It defies logic and the physical laws of cause and effect. It must, and I’m glad that it does.
At the beginning of Gravity and Grace, Simone Weil writes:
“All the natural movements of the soul are controlled by laws analogous to those of physical gravity.
Grace is the only exception.
Nadia Boles-Weber writes of it this way, (I’ve taken some liberties with the language.)
The thing is, in order to really speak of grace, we must speak of why grace is needed. Which means we simply must speak of sin - even if liberals (sic) tend to think that speaking of sin is the same as celebrating low self-esteem. But friends, how can we ever understand why grace is amazing if we think we don't need it?
I mean, a free lifetime supply of injectable insulin is only good news if you happen to be someone who has diabetes.
The problem, of course, is that the word sin is too often used as a synonym for being immoral. But you could live an entirely moral life, never cheat on your spouse or on your taxes…you could never break a law and be a so-called good person and still be a total sinner.*
In fact, the word sin has been so misused and misunderstood (not to mention weaponized), that I’m grateful that writer Francis Spufford substitutes the word sin for the HP2MTU - the Human Propensity to Mess Things Up.
The human propensity to mess things up cannot be avoided. Do not be fooled into thinking that with enough therapy or meditation retreats or with wokeness, (or a strong, uncompromising stand against wokeness or with a perfect understanding of and ruthlessly rigid adherence to the law) or with the right elimination diet or with good enough intentions (and determination) that you will not still mess things up.
You will. I will.
We sin.
This, to me, is the very heart of the issue - I wonder if working so hard to avoid sin, and running from one good thing to the next, distracts us from the true purpose of our lives - which we will get to in a bit. And I wonder if, in church-world, if the very definition of sin is more than simply failing to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, but failing to try hard enough to do so. Do you see the difference? Failing to follow the example of Jesus betrays our not-God-ness, and highlights our HP2MTU, I think. That doesn’t seem that hard to accept. Failing to try hard enough is indeed a moral issue, and a shame-worthy issue at that, and takes us to a whole new place - a place of deep and dark despair when we realize that no matter our intentions or how hard we strive, trying harder never, ever gets us over the hump. It simply never works. Fortunately, I can’t find a single place where Jesus says:
“Fellas! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves? I said, “Follow me!” Why aren’t you all trying harder to keep up?”
Do you want to find it for me?
I’ll wait….
Instead, I find instance after instance where Jesus seems to be saying:
“Fellas! I’ve already unlocked the gates of your shame-cells. I’ve already solved your problem. Come with me! Let’s get out here. Let’s blow this joint! Let’s be together and let’s spend our days making the Father’s love and grace known to, to well, known to everybody! People like us. People not like us. Everybody! This is the good news - too good to keep to ourselves. C’mon! Let’s goooo!!!!”
And in my praying imagination, I ask Him, “What does that look like?” And Jesus rolls his eyes and does that “palm to the forehead” thing (He does nothing of the sort, actually. He simply says:
Come. And. Be. Love! Because the Father is Love, the very well from which all love is drawn, to receive/accept love from another is to receive it from Him, and He and I are one. When someone accepts your love offering, they are getting a hint of the no-matter-whatness of my love, and the Father’s. You ask what it looks like. It looks like this. Make my father’s love known to every creature you encounter. Embody me! Follow me! Be Love! This is the good stuff! You’re being invited to the great Dance! C’mon! Let’s Gooooo!!!
In my imagination I respond,
“How far would you have me follow you?”
“What if you could believe that every single person or creature you encounter was sent there, by me, and by me personally, so that you might love them as I have loved you? Are you willing to go as far as I am/was willing to go to make the Father’s love known to you? That’s how far I want you to go to make Love known to everybody you meet.As far as I have gone.
Seriously? That far? That doesn’t sound cheap at all. That could cost me my very life.
Seriously. That far. I know. And yes. It will cost you your very life. It’s what I’m asking of you to follow. Me. Let’s not pretend otherwise. This is where real life and real joy and real purpose and Love reside. You in me. Me in you. Ready? Let’s go!
Okay. Let’s loop back to the beginning. If I’m you, I’m asking myself: “Wait, aren’t you now suggesting there may be some bio-psycho-social-spiritual model into which we might each fit, after all?” I suppose I am. Yes. And. Maybe it’s this:
“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.”
Thomas Merton
or maybe, just suppose:
Our deepest and universal purpose is to make God’s love known in the way that each of us has been uniquely gifted to do so.
Sometimes, I wonder if my job as a therapist (and a person) hasn’t always been simply been to embody Love, and once a person could accept their belovedness - to help him or her not only to understand how they were meant to love, but also to invite them to lean fearlessly into the way in which they were uniquely made to make God’s love known.
Suppose Love is what is really in the water.
Oremus,
Chris
P.S. For medical updates by Kathryn, please check out Caring Bridge.
Amen and Amen
Blessings Chris and Kathryn
“I would have picked that tree clean and set up a farmers stand”. Oh the imagery!! Chris I need to read this 10 times to digest all of the wonder and truth in these words. I feel sure Bonhoeffer is smiling at your powerful teaching on cheap grace. Thank you for blessing my day with this!!