I have recently learned that the body of Christ is a cutter. It is in such great pain that it further wounds and hurts itself in a scrambling effort to try and make it better. It's awful and it's hurtful, but mostly it's pitiful.
I don't have much to say except that we should be very careful what opinions we state and judgements we pass and positions we force in the name of the Lord. I have recently watch members of the church pass judgements that have been incredibly self-serving and that were motivated by fear and ego and old wounds rather than by healing or by service or by right. We all do that, but the people who I have recently witnessed are leaders in the church and are those who claim to want to serve and to give their lives and words to be more greatly watched.
I just want to say that I think people in leadership or in teaching positions in the Church should be only that much more careful when tell people that they can watch our lives and our actions and our opinions to learn how God feels about them ad how He treats them and what His priorities are.
Everybody makes mistakes, but when those deeply hurtful mistakes are made by people in leadership - people who have said, look at my life, I'd like to model the behaviors and treatments and priorities of God for you - we are teaching influenceable, weaker brothers wrong things about the Lord, and He takes that very seriously.
People who teach wrong things about God in the Bible are called false prophets, and how God feels about them and what God has in store for them is no more unclear than it is desirable.
We all - but especially those of us who tell people that we will teach them about who God is - need to be very, very careful that everyone knows our opinions and preferences are just that: OURS. I think it's fine to have a wrong opinion as long as you clearly let everyone know that you are neither basing this in Scripture nor modeling the Lord's priorities. When we don't do that, and we're in leadership, James says that we have asked people to watch us and learn about God through who we are and when we use it badly, God takes that very very very seriously.
I have watched a group of people pass judgements and hold opinions and make statements that, in my opinion, are incredibly self-serving and self-motivated, but they made them in the name of the Lord. They took what's right for themselves and held it up as what's right for the church and for others. I just want to mention that I think God's takes that very seriously - much more seriously than He does for those who don't claim to be pointing towards Him.
We are all sinful, and I think that we assume way too much that our opinions or preferences match those of God. I think maybe we should assume the opposite. Go ahead, and assume that your feelings about a situation are wrong until you can prove through Scripture and prayer and counsel that they aren't. I don't have an answer, but I wonder what would happen if we did that?
Additionally, I would just like to say that we (myself included...) need to be very careful when we demonize a member of the body and leave him or her in a position he they cannot defend himself. When His children cannot defend themselves against their enemies, God defends them. And if we are the enemies, that means that God is defending that person against us. Again, I think that His child being hurt and left without defense is something God takes very seriously.
I just think we need to be careful with opinions and feelings and preferences that we assert in the name of God's righteousness. We need to be sure.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Your Anger Is About You
I just love this and it is so dead on
It’s About Me, Not You!
A test of character is the nature of our responses and reactions when we are under stress. What comes out of us is what is really in us. So when we hurt and hate, the source is internal not external. True, the trigger is often external to us. But the spark is not the cause of our explosions. The explosive material is already there waiting to happen. Therefore, whatever we are upset about is about us, not them, about me, not you. From this perspective, it is important that we own our own reactions and responses and stop blaming, shaming, criticizing, controlling, coercing, and withdrawing. When we take responsibility for our inner world, it increases the possibility others will be able to hear us non-defensively.
Here is the message to you, my partner, friend, acquaintance. Whatever I say to you is about me, even when I criticize, blame, condemn, or withdraw. I want you to hear my experience, what I feel, see, hear, need, and sense. Hat I am telling you is not about you even though it involves you.
My goal is to express myself, not expose you. I own my reactions to you. You do not make me feel, need, or experience. Whatever comes out of me is within me. You did not put it there. I sometimes tell you that you made me feel, think, or do. This expresses my helplessness and powerlessness, denial, rationalization, and projection. I am disowning myself. There are times that I don’t want to believe what is in me. It is easier to blame, shame, and accuse you than take responsibility for what I say, see, feel, and do.
I apologize to you for criticizing, condemning, expressing contempt, or withdrawing from you. At times, I believe that I am morally and emotionally superior to you. I recognize that when I yield to this temptation, I hurt both of us. I want to tell you my truth, to be real and authentic with you. Yet there are times that I focus on what I see to be your flaws and this obscures my own failings.
I am understanding that what you say, see, feel, and do triggers me. I am learning that our interaction brings to the surface that internal source of my troubled feelings. I invite you to help me look at my mess, my stuff. It would help me if you would be willing to acknowledge that you are the spark more than the source of my pain. When I over-react, empathize with me please. At that moment, I have not mad the connection between the triggering incident and my past losses, hurts, frustrations, disappointments. When I invite you to listen to my pain, the purpose is to understand my own reactions, not to attack or control you. I want to liberate myself from pain, not manipulate you into meeting my needs.
Author unknown.
It’s About Me, Not You!
A test of character is the nature of our responses and reactions when we are under stress. What comes out of us is what is really in us. So when we hurt and hate, the source is internal not external. True, the trigger is often external to us. But the spark is not the cause of our explosions. The explosive material is already there waiting to happen. Therefore, whatever we are upset about is about us, not them, about me, not you. From this perspective, it is important that we own our own reactions and responses and stop blaming, shaming, criticizing, controlling, coercing, and withdrawing. When we take responsibility for our inner world, it increases the possibility others will be able to hear us non-defensively.
Here is the message to you, my partner, friend, acquaintance. Whatever I say to you is about me, even when I criticize, blame, condemn, or withdraw. I want you to hear my experience, what I feel, see, hear, need, and sense. Hat I am telling you is not about you even though it involves you.
My goal is to express myself, not expose you. I own my reactions to you. You do not make me feel, need, or experience. Whatever comes out of me is within me. You did not put it there. I sometimes tell you that you made me feel, think, or do. This expresses my helplessness and powerlessness, denial, rationalization, and projection. I am disowning myself. There are times that I don’t want to believe what is in me. It is easier to blame, shame, and accuse you than take responsibility for what I say, see, feel, and do.
I apologize to you for criticizing, condemning, expressing contempt, or withdrawing from you. At times, I believe that I am morally and emotionally superior to you. I recognize that when I yield to this temptation, I hurt both of us. I want to tell you my truth, to be real and authentic with you. Yet there are times that I focus on what I see to be your flaws and this obscures my own failings.
I am understanding that what you say, see, feel, and do triggers me. I am learning that our interaction brings to the surface that internal source of my troubled feelings. I invite you to help me look at my mess, my stuff. It would help me if you would be willing to acknowledge that you are the spark more than the source of my pain. When I over-react, empathize with me please. At that moment, I have not mad the connection between the triggering incident and my past losses, hurts, frustrations, disappointments. When I invite you to listen to my pain, the purpose is to understand my own reactions, not to attack or control you. I want to liberate myself from pain, not manipulate you into meeting my needs.
Author unknown.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Homosexuality: Putting Words In God's Mouth?
Last week in human sexuality class, we had a discussion on homosexuality, particularly the parts concerning scripture’s treatment of it. I grew up in an incredibly conservative southern Baptist church background, and so homosexuality was always condemned as the worst of all possible sins and the thing on earth that God hates with the fieriest passion. While I did conclude in my paper, after looking at all of the evidence in scripture, that homosexuality is wrong and is not God's plan for His people, it was so interesting to me to see that the Bible is actually a little vague and unclear about this issue, when so many churches speak about it with such a confident fervor.
Even though I have read my Bible for myself, I was a still, upon really researching, a little surprised to find just how few verses there really are about homosexuality and how many different ways those verses can be and are taken by interpreters. Just from having had this issue preached SO strongly to me for so long and from so many different fronts, it felt a little like I should be finding verses left and right that denounce the complete sinfulness of homosexuality without any vagueness at all, but this was clearly not the case.
This sort of situation just makes me reflect on how much of what we unquestioningly assert as the unequivocal truth of scripture is actually our own passionate opinion that we back up with just a few verses. Maybe we’re right, but what about those times that we’re not? What about those times that we have an opinion that we force on others as the truth of God when really, we do not have the evidence to support such confidence and we have been forceful or uncaring or unsupportive of someone, and we did it in the name of the Lord? I do feel that homosexuality is wrong, and I do feel that the Bible teaches that, but I was humbled by how few instances there are where it is mentioned in scripture and how many different ways that even these mentionings are interpreted. Why are we SO impassioned about things that the Bible doesn't prioritize as a subject matter, while we ignore things that it is very clear and very vocal about?
By shear numbers, God gave by far the most space in His Word on the subject of fear. Why do we FREAK OUT about homosexuality - which is mentioned only a handful of times - but it is totally understandable to us that Christians live lives characterized by fear, when it would seem from Scripture that God is way more concerned (based on clarity and frequency) with the latter. If you took a poll of people in the world who had never read the Bible and asked them: base don what Christians talk about, care about, make a huge deal out of, teach the most, have the most passion for - what would you say the Bible talks about the most? Would they be able to tell? Would they have a good idea of the values and priorities of God based only upon the values and priorities of those who claim to bear family resemblance?
This week, I spent some time thinking about the fact that, maybe the real issue in the church is not homosexuality or any of its controversial compatriots at all – maybe the issue that should have so much of our attention is having a little more humility about our opinions on issues about which God is not completely clear. If He is not bold and clear and impassioned about His opinion on an issue, maybe we should be a little more humble and hesitant about being those things.
My Paper on this issue:
Gay. Well, in the Church, there’s not a much worse thing you could call someone than that, now is there? In my experience, porn addicts, drug abusers, and heretics have an easier time. Many Christians I know would much, much rather their sons be in prison or fathers at 16 than gay. If I didn’t read the Bible for myself and relied on church teaching for my idea of Scriptural priorities, I would be convinced that Scripture cared a little about love, a good bit about salvation, and far and away the most about pure and certainly heterosexual sexuality. It has been a deep and committed passion – one of the very deepest – of the churches in my experience that homosexuality is among the worst things anyone could ever do or be. While I do feel that the Bible teaches that homosexuality is wrong, one of my convictions is that we need to take an honest look at this subject and treat it with the same measures of patience, grace, hope, and community support that we would other sins. Sexuality is vitally wrapped up in what it means to be created in the image and likeness of God. However, any gift given to God can also be corrupted. It would seem that sexual sin – in the same manner as any other sin – is something beautiful that we have now corrupted and which must eventually be redeemed. It would seem that this, just like any other sin, should be treated with an interim ethic of grace, if the ground truly is level at the foot of the cross.
Psychology
There exists in the field a good deal of controversy surrounding the treatment of homosexuality, causing a spilt between those who believe that it is as natural and acceptable a personal difference as eye color and those who would hold that there are etiological factors, even unhealthy ones, that cause this assignment and allow room for healing and alternative choices. This split divides psychologists who run the gamut of believing that children should receive counseling to heal environmental wounds causing this orientation and to learn coping skills versus those who would encourage them to exhibit whatever behaviors feel fitting.
Through the late 19th and 20th centuries, it was the common psychological viewpoint that homosexuality was a pathology and a mental illness. While many in the field operated within this view, however, there was a lack of empirical or scientific research to support the classification of homosexuality as a disorder, and this stance therefore came under scrutiny. As research continued and findings accumulated, it became clear that medical and psychological professionals no longer found it accurate to view homosexuality as a disorder and viewed its DSM classification as founded on once-held societal norms and impressions from insufficient samples rather than reliably tested evidence (Mendelson, 2008). Since the 1970’s, clinical literature has in large part reflected that same-sex tendencies are normal variations on orientation and should be treated in a positive way (APA Task Force, 2009). In 1973 and 1975 respectively, the American Psychiatric Association and American Psychological Association Council of Representatives removed homosexuality’s classification of disorder (Bayer, 1987). As the field shifted, much of the old research, even that held in high esteem, began to be corrected to accommodate this ever more popular holding that homosexuality is in no way a pathology or a problem. Christopher Shelley (1998), an Adlerian psychotherapist, made clear in a collection of writings from the 1990’s that affirmed positive movement in depth psychology, which Shelley used to support gay clients in their perfectly natural orientation. In this manner, Shelley worked to publically remove homosexuals from the contemporary Adlerian problematic discourse of the "failures of life."
Similarly, the Yogyakarta Principle 3 speaks to issues of sexual orientation and identity in light of international human rights laws, stating that individuals have the right to freedom of definition of so integral an aspect of their personhood, and that whatever they determine should have no bearing on any legal rights. Principle 18 goes on to assert that sexual orientation should not regarded as a condition and should not be suppressed or treated (International Commission of Jurists, 2007).
The field of psychology is, in many respects, so committed to the normality and acceptability of homosexuality that there are now forms of gay affirmative psychotherapy, endorsed by the American Psychological Association, for gay and lesbian clients, where they are encouraged to fully accept their natural orientation and are never encouraged to change their sexual orientation or to eliminate or diminish their same-sex desires, even to the point of asserting that a full acceptance of ones homosexual tendencies can act as a component in recovery from other mental illness, which was a frustrated expression of suppressing such a natural tendency (Guidelines, 2010).
It would seem that the psychological world is moving towards a complete freedom to define personal orientation and a normalizing of whatever choice is made. Much of the field of psychology views homosexuality as a normal variation of human behavior and something that should not be treated as a negative or abnormal tendency, largely because no etiology can be universally agreed upon, so it is seen largely as a natural variant (LeVay, 1996). There are, however, other viewpoints that suggest that homosexuality is consistently rooted in hurtful pasts, largely in a wounding home environment, and therefore can be treated with some movement towards healing. For example, The National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality (NARTH) suggests that parental influence in a child’s early stages can have a huge impact on the security the child feels with his or her own gender (Zucker & Bradley, 1995).
Additionally, Dr. Richard P. Fitzgibbons asserts that, in most cases, parents are able to create environments for their children that can deter or eliminate the onset of Gender Identity Disorder symptoms, including tendencies toward homosexuality. In the same way, they are also able to create environments that breed sexual insecurity and dissatisfaction in children. According to Fitzgibbons, men who exhibit homosexual or transsexual symptoms will, after psychological analysis, reveal a history of amalgamated dysfunctions, including some or all of the following: abuse (specifically sexual), rejection by peer group or bullying, the smothering of his mother figure, and the disinterest of his father figure (Fitzgibbons, 2001). He offers that children have an innate need for the acceptance of each parent, and in the majority of cases, if that is felt, they can feel secure in their identity as a boy or a girl, and then feel free to explore gender atypical activities that fit them. If boys or girls show effeminate or masculine traits, respectively, and are met with the subsequent ridicule or open disapproval of a parent, insecurities and fears are bred that can led the child to reject both their own sexuality and the more traditional orientation of it (Fitzgibbons, 2001). Fitzgibbons goes so far as to assert that if a male child has a mother who supports his masculinity, a close relationship with a loving father figure, and healthy same-sex friends, the chances are minimal that he will show homosexual or transsexual symptoms. Therapy should take place both for the child, to help him find contentment in the traditional orientation and expression of his gender, and for the family as a whole, to rebuild a supportive environment in which the child can feel free to explore possibly nonconformist activities while still maintaining a confidence that his family accepts him as a boy (Fitzgibbons, 2001).
Scripture
Stances like those discussed above create a very controversial dynamic surrounding sexual orientation issues, with religious groups in particular. The Catechism of the Catholic Church 2357 takes the unwavering stance that "homosexuals acts are intrinsically disordered... and under no circumstances can they be approved" (“Catechism of the Catholic Church,” 1994).
It seems, however, like there are as many views on and treatments of homosexuality as there are Christian denominations, which hold a variety of differing views, running the gamut from full condemnation to unequivocal acceptance. This can be largely attributed to the fact that direct, clear Biblical references to homosexuality are not abundant. While the Scriptural passages that address homosexuality are scarce, there are still some upon which Christian doctrine has been based. Historical Jewish and Christian traditions have commonly interpreted these passages as strict, all-inclusive moral imperatives against any form of homosexuality. However, some efforts in modern scholarship have attempted to soften the severity of that doctrine by trying to understand the passages more within the context of the societies out of which they were produced.
Leviticus 18 and 20
Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 are excerpts of the Holiness code and contain verses that assert that for a man to sleep with a man as he would with a woman is forbidden and an abomination, punishable by death (18:22) Historically, these two verses have been used by Christian traditions as full prohibitions against homosexual behavior. The argument from Leviticus 18:22 concerning homosexuality is that you would have rule against having sex during the woman’s menstrual cycle as well, since that appears in the same list of laws. Why would priority be given to this law while the others were dismissed as cultural? (Shepherd, 1998) On the other hand, in Leviticus 20, the punishments are included with the laws and homosexuality is included in those that are punishable by death while sex with a menstruating woman is simply responded to with temporary ostracism (Miller, 2004.)
Genesis 19
The story of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis has been similarly interpreted as connoting that the rampant homosexual activity of the men displayed in the story is one of the many displeasing dynamics in those cities that merited punishment from God. It has come up as a point of contention among scholars that this passage is actually not referring to homosexuality as the act that displeased the Lord but rather the behaviors of either rape or inhospitality (Weyand, 2001.) There is some debate over both of these verses, and the Leviticus passages, as to whether or not female homosexuality is included by implication, with the verses indicting homosexual activity for all people, even though men are here used as the example (Brooten, 1996).
Disciple Whom Jesus Loved
The Gospel of John consistently refers to “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23; 19:26; 21:7; 21:20), which most generally take as a reference to John himself. Recently, several scholars, including Jennings (2003), have begun to use these verses to paint a homosexual relationship between Jesus and John, especially the scenes from the Last Supper where John is described (13:23) as "leaning on Jesus' bosom" (KJV). However, this reading has not been widely accepted by most scholars, and most maintain the most traditional reading that these verses portray a close personal friendship. For example, Gagnon (2001) rejects this idea in his study "The Bible and Homosexual Practice," stressing the point that the idea of love used here is agape (John 3:16; "for God so loved the world"), as opposed to sexual love, eros.
Romans 1
Romans 1:26–27 provides another indicting Biblical reference to the practice of homosexuality, providing a reference to female homosexuality on which the text was silent in other references. Some hold that Paul is only condemning certain types of homosexual acts, like temple prostitution and pagan rituals, while others maintain that what is wrong is not homosexual acts by homosexuals but rather homosexual acts by heterosexuals, with the focus being on what is natural and what is in a loving relationship (Boswell, 1980.) However, many scholars believe that these verses show God punishment being provoked by homosexual behaviors and assert that these all of these activities are confusion, defilation, even inhuman, especially highlighting the rejection of God’s natural, created order (Howard, 1996.)
1 Corinthians 6 and 1 Timothy 1
In this text, Paul makes a list of wrongdoers and those who he says will not inherit the kingdom of God. This is another disputed passage, because one of the words included in the list is the Greek word arsenokoitēs (ἀρσενοκοίτης.) This term has been challenging for interpreters, and has been translated in various Biblical versions as “abusers of themselves with mankind,” “sodomites” or “men who practice homosexuality” (Martin, 1996.) The only other Biblical instance of this word is in 1 Timothy 1:9–10, where a similar list of sinful behavior is made. Greek ἄῤῥην / ἄρσην [arrhēn / arsēn means "male", and κοίτην [koitēn] "bed," with a sexual connotation, so some scholars take this word to mean male-with-male sexual wrongdoing, although others argue that there is not a strong enough reason to glean homosexuality from this term, as the Greek word androkoitēs is usually used for this idea. Some scholars use this discrepancy as evidence for the opinion that 1 Corinthians is not referring to homosexuality. On the other hand, others, such as Boswell (1980), argue that the word arsenokoitēs used here comes from the Septuagint (LXX) reading of Leviticus 20:13 (which is more clearly talking about homosexual behavior) where one can find both of the root forms (Greek ἄῤῥην / ἄρσην [arrhēn / arsēn] and κοίτην [koitēn]. Other scholars use this fact to support the belief that Paul used this word in 1 Corinthians to refer back to Leviticus 20 and support that same indictment (Martin, 1996).
Opinion
What I have gleaned from the discussions above is largely that there are many questions still left about the Bible’s treatment of homosexuality and its sinful nature. Even with the abundance of excellent scholarship available, there is still an abundance of insecurity and uncertainty surrounding this issue. In my response, I would like to respond more to my experience of the conservative Christian attitude and treatment of homosexuals more than to the issue of homosexuality itself. First let me assert, I do feel that, based on Biblical texts, homosexuality is a sin and it is not a lifestyle that brings the most glory to God or that is the best of what God has for His children. I believe that the Bible does not espouse a homosexual lifestyle, but rather includes it in behaviors that should be sacrificed and from which believers should refrain for the sake of holy living. That said, however, my personal experience has not been one with homosexuality but has rather been one with the Christian community and its dealings with this issue, and it is with this topic that I have spent the most time dealing and it is this area to which I would like to respond.
I feel that, at leats in my experience, the church's response to this issue is often pre-decided, dismissive, not terribly interested in talking too much about it. As a church, I feel that the response to homosexual individuals should be acceptance and grace. Walking into a church should not be an experience comparable to the opening of a dam sluice – a deluge of well-meaning directives about what is and isn’t appropriate. Bob Parkins, an LMFT at Sacramento Christian Counseling, asserts that counseling and a “supportive system establishment” are the best treatments for GID and homosexual orientation (Parkins, n.d.). What could qualify more as a supportive system than acceptance and love within a healthy body of believers? If we allow ourselves to be instruments of the ministry of the Holy Spirit, showing contentedness and acceptance for who people really are, these people may begin to feel, if not a full contentedness and acceptance for traditional orientation, at least a welcoming place to do the hard work of finding out what God’s will is for them. But this, sadly, is not always the case.
I feel that there is a very upsetting problem within the Church concerning its response toward those who struggle with homosexuality. From my experience, I am not certain that we live in a Church community that is able to view homosexuals simply as people who, like we, have fallen into sin and is able to embrace them the way Jesus embraced John 4’s Samaritan woman. As Christians, our calling is to preach the grace of God that is able to reclaim us out of the loneliness and confusion into which we are cast by sin, not to ignore, dismiss, or judge simply because sexuality embarrasses us. Christians, I feel, must live each day with the knowledge that the complete wholeness of God is not something that we should hope to fully gain in this life, but is rather a hope for which we continue to live. But it is into this dynamic that I feel homosexuals are so often not invited.
I am afraid that the sexual sins in our church communities are not looked upon with the same eye as other sins. Other sins are often viewed as reminders for us of the tension in which we all live – the tension between our current total depravity and the holiness to which we can now strive because of the cross, which will eventually be fulfilled in our final redemption. But I feel that somehow, sins of sexuality – addiction, promiscuity, adultery, homosexuality – are all viewed as different and worse, a side category of black sheep sins, with homosexuality as its despicable cornerstone. We understand that, of course the church is full of sinners, and even we ourselves are sinners, but our sins are "normal" – lying, pride, selfishness, anger – all par for the Christian course, all things to be expected and dealt with in a small group. Some of our sins can even be borderline virtuous. If you admit to a problem with pride, everyone will acknowledge your desire for humility. It sounds almost like a righteous sin, and everyone can identify. But in my experience with churches, homosexuality is worse, different, and certainly more shameful than the rest. We blush at the mentioning of it and if we are honest, we are uncomfortable around those we know to struggle with it. Through these attitudes and behaviors, it seems to me that we have isolated these people into a place of loneliness and inability to seek help and healing within the Church body. And the proclamations of certain churches that “God Hates Fags” certainly don’t help.
In my church experience, homosexuality is not viewed like other sins, it is not one to be dealt with in a community of believers, but is rather more shameful and should be kept hidden. This problem, in my opinion, originates in large part because homosexuality is one of the only sins where, by committing it, it is made a part of your identity (Yarhouse et al., 2005). Many of us lie, but we would be shocked and offended to be labeled "liars." But should homosexuality be the sin with which you struggle, you are quick to be labeled as “gay” – that veritable Protestant kiss of death – and the case is closed, now that everyone knows “what you are.” In reality, our concepts of who we are should no longer be defined by sins, but rather by the acceptance and love of Christ. However, in my opinion, homosexuality is not seen as a sin, it is seen as an identity, and this mentality, I feel, is a large contributor to the intensity of the Christian struggle against it. Homosexuals are not told, as the rest of us are, that they have sin in their lives, but rather that that sin is a notable facet of their identity, and they are left with feelings of hopelessness. Basing one’s identity in anything but the love and acceptance of Christ will lead to nothing but shame, guilt, and embarrassment. People dealing with homosexuality are not encouraged to come into the Church body for help and healing within a community that supports them, but are rather backed into the corner of silence and superficiality, for surely it is better to hide a sin like that than to face the judgment that comes with honesty. I fear that people struggling with homosexuality do not see the Church as a place for self-revelation.
In my opinion, we as the Church need to begin to move into a greater understanding of sexual sin as just that – a sin – and not an inescapable identity, so that we can accept homosexuals into the body of believers the way we all so desperately need. Hereby, they can be healed through the love of Jesus found in the Church, which will never be able to take place should they continue to feel shut out and embarrassed. These sinners, along with every sinner, are in bondage to sin and decay and are groaning under the weight of our thwarted vocation as image-bearers. We are sinners, and each day we feel the terrible power of sin within a wicked world. However, we glorify God and help to make His power perfect when we are able to see through this fog of sin to the love of God in which we can still trust. It is our vocation as the Church of Christ to draw all people – even those struggling with homosexuality – into this mentality and not to ignore, dismiss, or judge simply because homosexuality embarrasses us. It seems to me that the most pressing problem is the relationship between the Church and the sinners who comprise her. We need to heal this relationship by treating one another with mutual respect and compassion as Christ does His bride before we begin to target individual sins.
I feel that changes within the Church as a whole must start with us, in our personal lives, and it seems that this could be quite contingent on the way we respond to the news of people’s struggles. We must develop an environment where people feel that they can be transparent about their problems in a place where people will not be shocked, disgusted, or embarrassed. In my counseling classes, I have learned that if people finally get the courage to disclose a problem, and it is a shocking and shaming experience, they will not likely do it again. We discussed this in the context of addictions, but I feel that the same principle applies to the confession of difficult sin. I fear that people struggling with homosexuality so not see the Church as a place for self-revelation. As a counselor and a Christian, I want to make myself a person to whom people feel like they can come to confess and discuss their sin without the fear of an extreme, evasive, or embarrassed reaction.
I feel that it would be the counselor’s responsibility to examine the etiology of these feelings for each particular client, because in some cases, pain caused by hurtful treatment or discouraging expectations has perpetuated feelings of dissatisfaction, insecurity, or confusion, and a therapist can provide help and support for the client as they try to heal from any contributing brokenness (Fitzgibbons, 2001). Beyond the discovery and healing of any past pain, the client may still have strong inclinations towards a homosexual lifestyle, and I feel it the responsibility of a Christian counselor to encourage the client to stay within the will of God. God’s design for us was to function with the greatest effectiveness, and so a Christian view of dysfunction includes any behavior that pulls an individual outside of God’s will for him (Yarhouse et al., 2005). Per the psalms, I believe that God chose our genders consciously and deliberately, and what is sin if not a dissatisfaction with the confusions or difficulties of the plans of God and a choice to step off of His path and into our own simpler, instantly gratifying selfishness? Like the longings of an addict who tries to shake off his unhealthy ways and return back to the health of God, desires and yearnings for sin may never fade completely, but that is true in some part for any sinner.
Each of us has pit falls, siren songs that call to us with particular strength, but an aspect of transformation into Christlikeness is learning to deny the sinful longings of what Paul calls “the flesh” and make a conscious, active, sacrificial choice to go the way of God. To long to walk ones own path, to feel pulled off of the way of God’s will, even by one’s own body, cannot be a sin – Jesus was just so tempted (Matthew 4:1-11). Temptation, discomfort, or even dissatisfaction in our sexuality is not wrong, but behavior, decision, active choice – these pull us into sin. I feel that this is one of the most common and most discouraging Christian misconceptions on the topic of homosexuality. In my experience, Christians tend to feel that any inclination or feeling of homosexuality is a sin, but I feel that the Bible never teaches temptation or inclination as sinful. It is always our wrong choices, our wrong movement, our wrong activity that is a sin. The activity is wrong, the temptation is just like any other sinful temptation – we all need to work to be better than our human tendencies. To live one’s life with a natural temptation towards homosexuality is certainly not a sin. To dismiss off God’s best plan for your sexuality and choose to act on homosexual urges is where sin lies, so it is, in my opinion, the job of the Christian counselor to encourage the client to stay within God’s design for his life and commit to the difficult therapeutic work of learning to function effectively within his given place.
As a potential counselor, I want to war against the temptation towards reductionism and allow people to be more than simply the sum of their sins. If people can be transformed by the knowledge and love of Christ, then that is first and foremost how they should be viewed. I want to approach sin-oriented conversations with the eyes of Christ, seeing others as equals and as whole and complete people, loved by God and therefore certainly not meriting my condescension. I feel that I often fall into the trap of thinking that people will be changed if they are shown the weight and severity of their sin. I take it upon myself to help people to understand just how wrong and how damaging their sin is. But I am quick to forget that in the face of this judgmental attitude, people do not usually grow and change, but rather shrink away and certainly never come back for more. In all this, let me be clear that I do not consider homosexuality to be an appropriate, healthy, or God-honoring lifestyle, which I believe Scripture makes clear. In being gracious, patient, and accepting to homosexuals, or any sinners, we should not allow kindness to make us insecure in our beliefs or permissive of things that do not please the Lord. It is important not to minimize sin or soften our words so much that we never actually speak the truth, but we must also not be crippled by the fear that if we ever give grace, we are becoming cultural accommodators. I hope and pray to become someone who knows what it means to speak the truth in love, and certainly not to see someone else’s sin as greater or more damning than my own. I pray to make my life – and ultimately the Church – a place of compassion and safety, for the ultimate antidote to sin and shame is grace. We certainly do have to keep each other accountable for our actions, but we must first remember that the greatest commandment is to love, not to correct, and that the ground has to be level at the foot of the cross.
References
APA Task Force on Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation. (2009). Report of the Task Force on
Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Therapeutic
Responses to Sexual Orientation. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association
Bayer, Ronald (1987). Homosexuality and American Psychiatry: The Politics of Diagnosis. Princeton: Princeton University
Press.
Boswell, John (1980). Christianity, social tolerance and homosexuality. University of Chicago Press.
Brooten, Bernadette (1998). Love Between Women: Early Christian Responses to Female Homoeroticism. University of Chicago
Press.
Catechism of the Catholic Church. (1994). New York: Doubleday.
Fitzgibbons, R. (2001, June). Gender identity disorder in children. Catholic Magazine. Retrieved November 13, 2009,
from http://www.narth.com/docs/fitz.html
Gagnon, Robert A. J. (2001). The Bible and homosexual practice. Abingdon Press.
Guidelines for Psychotherapy with Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Clients (2010). In American Psychological Association.
Retrieved November 1, 2010, from http://www.apa.org/pi/lgbt/resources/guidelines.aspx
Howard, Kevin L. Paul's View of Male Homosexuality: An Exegetical Study. M.A. thesis (unpublished). Trinity Evangelical
Divinity School. Deerfield, Illinois. June 1996.
International Commission of Jurists. (2007, March) Yogyakarta Principles - Principles on the application of international human
rights law in relation to sexual orientation and gender identity. Retrieved November 13, 2009, from
http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/docid/48244e602.html
Jennings, Theodore (2003). "The Man Jesus Loved: Homoerotic Narratives From the New Testament". Pilgrim Press.
LeVay, Simon (1996). Queer Science: The Use and Abuse of Research into Homosexuality. Cambridge: The MIT Press.
Martin, Dale (1996). Arsenokoites and malakos: Meanings and consequences. In Biblical Ethics and Homosexuality. Ed Robert
Brawley: Westminster Press.
Mendelson, L. (2008, May 5). In re Marriage Cases, No. S147999. In CourtInfo.CA.Gov. Retrieved November 1, 2010,
from http://www.courtinfo.ca.gov/courts/supreme/highprofile/documents/Amer_Psychological_Assn
_Amicus_Curiae_Brief.pdf
Miller, D. (2004). Homosexuality and female menses. In Apologetics Press. Retrieved November 2, 2010, from
http://apologeticspress.org/articles/2645
Parkins, B. (n.d.). Diagnostic criteria for gender identity disorder. Retrieved November 12, 2009, from
http://www.bobparkinslmft.com/info/genderid.html
Shelley, C. (1998). Contemporary perspectives on psychotherapy and homosexualities. London: Free Association Books.
Shepherd, A. (1998, December 11). The Bible and homosexuality. Retrieved November 4, 2010
Weyand, D. (Director). Geary, S., & Grahame-Smith, S. (Writer). (2001). History's mysteries: Sodom and
Gomorrah [Motion picture].
Yarhouse, M., Butman, R., & McRay, B. (2005). Modern Psychopathologies. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press.
Zucker, K., & Bradley, S. (1995). Gender identity disorder and psychosexual problems in children and adolescents. New York:
Guilford Press.
Even though I have read my Bible for myself, I was a still, upon really researching, a little surprised to find just how few verses there really are about homosexuality and how many different ways those verses can be and are taken by interpreters. Just from having had this issue preached SO strongly to me for so long and from so many different fronts, it felt a little like I should be finding verses left and right that denounce the complete sinfulness of homosexuality without any vagueness at all, but this was clearly not the case.
This sort of situation just makes me reflect on how much of what we unquestioningly assert as the unequivocal truth of scripture is actually our own passionate opinion that we back up with just a few verses. Maybe we’re right, but what about those times that we’re not? What about those times that we have an opinion that we force on others as the truth of God when really, we do not have the evidence to support such confidence and we have been forceful or uncaring or unsupportive of someone, and we did it in the name of the Lord? I do feel that homosexuality is wrong, and I do feel that the Bible teaches that, but I was humbled by how few instances there are where it is mentioned in scripture and how many different ways that even these mentionings are interpreted. Why are we SO impassioned about things that the Bible doesn't prioritize as a subject matter, while we ignore things that it is very clear and very vocal about?
By shear numbers, God gave by far the most space in His Word on the subject of fear. Why do we FREAK OUT about homosexuality - which is mentioned only a handful of times - but it is totally understandable to us that Christians live lives characterized by fear, when it would seem from Scripture that God is way more concerned (based on clarity and frequency) with the latter. If you took a poll of people in the world who had never read the Bible and asked them: base don what Christians talk about, care about, make a huge deal out of, teach the most, have the most passion for - what would you say the Bible talks about the most? Would they be able to tell? Would they have a good idea of the values and priorities of God based only upon the values and priorities of those who claim to bear family resemblance?
This week, I spent some time thinking about the fact that, maybe the real issue in the church is not homosexuality or any of its controversial compatriots at all – maybe the issue that should have so much of our attention is having a little more humility about our opinions on issues about which God is not completely clear. If He is not bold and clear and impassioned about His opinion on an issue, maybe we should be a little more humble and hesitant about being those things.
My Paper on this issue:
Gay. Well, in the Church, there’s not a much worse thing you could call someone than that, now is there? In my experience, porn addicts, drug abusers, and heretics have an easier time. Many Christians I know would much, much rather their sons be in prison or fathers at 16 than gay. If I didn’t read the Bible for myself and relied on church teaching for my idea of Scriptural priorities, I would be convinced that Scripture cared a little about love, a good bit about salvation, and far and away the most about pure and certainly heterosexual sexuality. It has been a deep and committed passion – one of the very deepest – of the churches in my experience that homosexuality is among the worst things anyone could ever do or be. While I do feel that the Bible teaches that homosexuality is wrong, one of my convictions is that we need to take an honest look at this subject and treat it with the same measures of patience, grace, hope, and community support that we would other sins. Sexuality is vitally wrapped up in what it means to be created in the image and likeness of God. However, any gift given to God can also be corrupted. It would seem that sexual sin – in the same manner as any other sin – is something beautiful that we have now corrupted and which must eventually be redeemed. It would seem that this, just like any other sin, should be treated with an interim ethic of grace, if the ground truly is level at the foot of the cross.
Psychology
There exists in the field a good deal of controversy surrounding the treatment of homosexuality, causing a spilt between those who believe that it is as natural and acceptable a personal difference as eye color and those who would hold that there are etiological factors, even unhealthy ones, that cause this assignment and allow room for healing and alternative choices. This split divides psychologists who run the gamut of believing that children should receive counseling to heal environmental wounds causing this orientation and to learn coping skills versus those who would encourage them to exhibit whatever behaviors feel fitting.
Through the late 19th and 20th centuries, it was the common psychological viewpoint that homosexuality was a pathology and a mental illness. While many in the field operated within this view, however, there was a lack of empirical or scientific research to support the classification of homosexuality as a disorder, and this stance therefore came under scrutiny. As research continued and findings accumulated, it became clear that medical and psychological professionals no longer found it accurate to view homosexuality as a disorder and viewed its DSM classification as founded on once-held societal norms and impressions from insufficient samples rather than reliably tested evidence (Mendelson, 2008). Since the 1970’s, clinical literature has in large part reflected that same-sex tendencies are normal variations on orientation and should be treated in a positive way (APA Task Force, 2009). In 1973 and 1975 respectively, the American Psychiatric Association and American Psychological Association Council of Representatives removed homosexuality’s classification of disorder (Bayer, 1987). As the field shifted, much of the old research, even that held in high esteem, began to be corrected to accommodate this ever more popular holding that homosexuality is in no way a pathology or a problem. Christopher Shelley (1998), an Adlerian psychotherapist, made clear in a collection of writings from the 1990’s that affirmed positive movement in depth psychology, which Shelley used to support gay clients in their perfectly natural orientation. In this manner, Shelley worked to publically remove homosexuals from the contemporary Adlerian problematic discourse of the "failures of life."
Similarly, the Yogyakarta Principle 3 speaks to issues of sexual orientation and identity in light of international human rights laws, stating that individuals have the right to freedom of definition of so integral an aspect of their personhood, and that whatever they determine should have no bearing on any legal rights. Principle 18 goes on to assert that sexual orientation should not regarded as a condition and should not be suppressed or treated (International Commission of Jurists, 2007).
The field of psychology is, in many respects, so committed to the normality and acceptability of homosexuality that there are now forms of gay affirmative psychotherapy, endorsed by the American Psychological Association, for gay and lesbian clients, where they are encouraged to fully accept their natural orientation and are never encouraged to change their sexual orientation or to eliminate or diminish their same-sex desires, even to the point of asserting that a full acceptance of ones homosexual tendencies can act as a component in recovery from other mental illness, which was a frustrated expression of suppressing such a natural tendency (Guidelines, 2010).
It would seem that the psychological world is moving towards a complete freedom to define personal orientation and a normalizing of whatever choice is made. Much of the field of psychology views homosexuality as a normal variation of human behavior and something that should not be treated as a negative or abnormal tendency, largely because no etiology can be universally agreed upon, so it is seen largely as a natural variant (LeVay, 1996). There are, however, other viewpoints that suggest that homosexuality is consistently rooted in hurtful pasts, largely in a wounding home environment, and therefore can be treated with some movement towards healing. For example, The National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality (NARTH) suggests that parental influence in a child’s early stages can have a huge impact on the security the child feels with his or her own gender (Zucker & Bradley, 1995).
Additionally, Dr. Richard P. Fitzgibbons asserts that, in most cases, parents are able to create environments for their children that can deter or eliminate the onset of Gender Identity Disorder symptoms, including tendencies toward homosexuality. In the same way, they are also able to create environments that breed sexual insecurity and dissatisfaction in children. According to Fitzgibbons, men who exhibit homosexual or transsexual symptoms will, after psychological analysis, reveal a history of amalgamated dysfunctions, including some or all of the following: abuse (specifically sexual), rejection by peer group or bullying, the smothering of his mother figure, and the disinterest of his father figure (Fitzgibbons, 2001). He offers that children have an innate need for the acceptance of each parent, and in the majority of cases, if that is felt, they can feel secure in their identity as a boy or a girl, and then feel free to explore gender atypical activities that fit them. If boys or girls show effeminate or masculine traits, respectively, and are met with the subsequent ridicule or open disapproval of a parent, insecurities and fears are bred that can led the child to reject both their own sexuality and the more traditional orientation of it (Fitzgibbons, 2001). Fitzgibbons goes so far as to assert that if a male child has a mother who supports his masculinity, a close relationship with a loving father figure, and healthy same-sex friends, the chances are minimal that he will show homosexual or transsexual symptoms. Therapy should take place both for the child, to help him find contentment in the traditional orientation and expression of his gender, and for the family as a whole, to rebuild a supportive environment in which the child can feel free to explore possibly nonconformist activities while still maintaining a confidence that his family accepts him as a boy (Fitzgibbons, 2001).
Scripture
Stances like those discussed above create a very controversial dynamic surrounding sexual orientation issues, with religious groups in particular. The Catechism of the Catholic Church 2357 takes the unwavering stance that "homosexuals acts are intrinsically disordered... and under no circumstances can they be approved" (“Catechism of the Catholic Church,” 1994).
It seems, however, like there are as many views on and treatments of homosexuality as there are Christian denominations, which hold a variety of differing views, running the gamut from full condemnation to unequivocal acceptance. This can be largely attributed to the fact that direct, clear Biblical references to homosexuality are not abundant. While the Scriptural passages that address homosexuality are scarce, there are still some upon which Christian doctrine has been based. Historical Jewish and Christian traditions have commonly interpreted these passages as strict, all-inclusive moral imperatives against any form of homosexuality. However, some efforts in modern scholarship have attempted to soften the severity of that doctrine by trying to understand the passages more within the context of the societies out of which they were produced.
Leviticus 18 and 20
Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 are excerpts of the Holiness code and contain verses that assert that for a man to sleep with a man as he would with a woman is forbidden and an abomination, punishable by death (18:22) Historically, these two verses have been used by Christian traditions as full prohibitions against homosexual behavior. The argument from Leviticus 18:22 concerning homosexuality is that you would have rule against having sex during the woman’s menstrual cycle as well, since that appears in the same list of laws. Why would priority be given to this law while the others were dismissed as cultural? (Shepherd, 1998) On the other hand, in Leviticus 20, the punishments are included with the laws and homosexuality is included in those that are punishable by death while sex with a menstruating woman is simply responded to with temporary ostracism (Miller, 2004.)
Genesis 19
The story of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis has been similarly interpreted as connoting that the rampant homosexual activity of the men displayed in the story is one of the many displeasing dynamics in those cities that merited punishment from God. It has come up as a point of contention among scholars that this passage is actually not referring to homosexuality as the act that displeased the Lord but rather the behaviors of either rape or inhospitality (Weyand, 2001.) There is some debate over both of these verses, and the Leviticus passages, as to whether or not female homosexuality is included by implication, with the verses indicting homosexual activity for all people, even though men are here used as the example (Brooten, 1996).
Disciple Whom Jesus Loved
The Gospel of John consistently refers to “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23; 19:26; 21:7; 21:20), which most generally take as a reference to John himself. Recently, several scholars, including Jennings (2003), have begun to use these verses to paint a homosexual relationship between Jesus and John, especially the scenes from the Last Supper where John is described (13:23) as "leaning on Jesus' bosom" (KJV). However, this reading has not been widely accepted by most scholars, and most maintain the most traditional reading that these verses portray a close personal friendship. For example, Gagnon (2001) rejects this idea in his study "The Bible and Homosexual Practice," stressing the point that the idea of love used here is agape (John 3:16; "for God so loved the world"), as opposed to sexual love, eros.
Romans 1
Romans 1:26–27 provides another indicting Biblical reference to the practice of homosexuality, providing a reference to female homosexuality on which the text was silent in other references. Some hold that Paul is only condemning certain types of homosexual acts, like temple prostitution and pagan rituals, while others maintain that what is wrong is not homosexual acts by homosexuals but rather homosexual acts by heterosexuals, with the focus being on what is natural and what is in a loving relationship (Boswell, 1980.) However, many scholars believe that these verses show God punishment being provoked by homosexual behaviors and assert that these all of these activities are confusion, defilation, even inhuman, especially highlighting the rejection of God’s natural, created order (Howard, 1996.)
1 Corinthians 6 and 1 Timothy 1
In this text, Paul makes a list of wrongdoers and those who he says will not inherit the kingdom of God. This is another disputed passage, because one of the words included in the list is the Greek word arsenokoitēs (ἀρσενοκοίτης.) This term has been challenging for interpreters, and has been translated in various Biblical versions as “abusers of themselves with mankind,” “sodomites” or “men who practice homosexuality” (Martin, 1996.) The only other Biblical instance of this word is in 1 Timothy 1:9–10, where a similar list of sinful behavior is made. Greek ἄῤῥην / ἄρσην [arrhēn / arsēn means "male", and κοίτην [koitēn] "bed," with a sexual connotation, so some scholars take this word to mean male-with-male sexual wrongdoing, although others argue that there is not a strong enough reason to glean homosexuality from this term, as the Greek word androkoitēs is usually used for this idea. Some scholars use this discrepancy as evidence for the opinion that 1 Corinthians is not referring to homosexuality. On the other hand, others, such as Boswell (1980), argue that the word arsenokoitēs used here comes from the Septuagint (LXX) reading of Leviticus 20:13 (which is more clearly talking about homosexual behavior) where one can find both of the root forms (Greek ἄῤῥην / ἄρσην [arrhēn / arsēn] and κοίτην [koitēn]. Other scholars use this fact to support the belief that Paul used this word in 1 Corinthians to refer back to Leviticus 20 and support that same indictment (Martin, 1996).
Opinion
What I have gleaned from the discussions above is largely that there are many questions still left about the Bible’s treatment of homosexuality and its sinful nature. Even with the abundance of excellent scholarship available, there is still an abundance of insecurity and uncertainty surrounding this issue. In my response, I would like to respond more to my experience of the conservative Christian attitude and treatment of homosexuals more than to the issue of homosexuality itself. First let me assert, I do feel that, based on Biblical texts, homosexuality is a sin and it is not a lifestyle that brings the most glory to God or that is the best of what God has for His children. I believe that the Bible does not espouse a homosexual lifestyle, but rather includes it in behaviors that should be sacrificed and from which believers should refrain for the sake of holy living. That said, however, my personal experience has not been one with homosexuality but has rather been one with the Christian community and its dealings with this issue, and it is with this topic that I have spent the most time dealing and it is this area to which I would like to respond.
I feel that, at leats in my experience, the church's response to this issue is often pre-decided, dismissive, not terribly interested in talking too much about it. As a church, I feel that the response to homosexual individuals should be acceptance and grace. Walking into a church should not be an experience comparable to the opening of a dam sluice – a deluge of well-meaning directives about what is and isn’t appropriate. Bob Parkins, an LMFT at Sacramento Christian Counseling, asserts that counseling and a “supportive system establishment” are the best treatments for GID and homosexual orientation (Parkins, n.d.). What could qualify more as a supportive system than acceptance and love within a healthy body of believers? If we allow ourselves to be instruments of the ministry of the Holy Spirit, showing contentedness and acceptance for who people really are, these people may begin to feel, if not a full contentedness and acceptance for traditional orientation, at least a welcoming place to do the hard work of finding out what God’s will is for them. But this, sadly, is not always the case.
I feel that there is a very upsetting problem within the Church concerning its response toward those who struggle with homosexuality. From my experience, I am not certain that we live in a Church community that is able to view homosexuals simply as people who, like we, have fallen into sin and is able to embrace them the way Jesus embraced John 4’s Samaritan woman. As Christians, our calling is to preach the grace of God that is able to reclaim us out of the loneliness and confusion into which we are cast by sin, not to ignore, dismiss, or judge simply because sexuality embarrasses us. Christians, I feel, must live each day with the knowledge that the complete wholeness of God is not something that we should hope to fully gain in this life, but is rather a hope for which we continue to live. But it is into this dynamic that I feel homosexuals are so often not invited.
I am afraid that the sexual sins in our church communities are not looked upon with the same eye as other sins. Other sins are often viewed as reminders for us of the tension in which we all live – the tension between our current total depravity and the holiness to which we can now strive because of the cross, which will eventually be fulfilled in our final redemption. But I feel that somehow, sins of sexuality – addiction, promiscuity, adultery, homosexuality – are all viewed as different and worse, a side category of black sheep sins, with homosexuality as its despicable cornerstone. We understand that, of course the church is full of sinners, and even we ourselves are sinners, but our sins are "normal" – lying, pride, selfishness, anger – all par for the Christian course, all things to be expected and dealt with in a small group. Some of our sins can even be borderline virtuous. If you admit to a problem with pride, everyone will acknowledge your desire for humility. It sounds almost like a righteous sin, and everyone can identify. But in my experience with churches, homosexuality is worse, different, and certainly more shameful than the rest. We blush at the mentioning of it and if we are honest, we are uncomfortable around those we know to struggle with it. Through these attitudes and behaviors, it seems to me that we have isolated these people into a place of loneliness and inability to seek help and healing within the Church body. And the proclamations of certain churches that “God Hates Fags” certainly don’t help.
In my church experience, homosexuality is not viewed like other sins, it is not one to be dealt with in a community of believers, but is rather more shameful and should be kept hidden. This problem, in my opinion, originates in large part because homosexuality is one of the only sins where, by committing it, it is made a part of your identity (Yarhouse et al., 2005). Many of us lie, but we would be shocked and offended to be labeled "liars." But should homosexuality be the sin with which you struggle, you are quick to be labeled as “gay” – that veritable Protestant kiss of death – and the case is closed, now that everyone knows “what you are.” In reality, our concepts of who we are should no longer be defined by sins, but rather by the acceptance and love of Christ. However, in my opinion, homosexuality is not seen as a sin, it is seen as an identity, and this mentality, I feel, is a large contributor to the intensity of the Christian struggle against it. Homosexuals are not told, as the rest of us are, that they have sin in their lives, but rather that that sin is a notable facet of their identity, and they are left with feelings of hopelessness. Basing one’s identity in anything but the love and acceptance of Christ will lead to nothing but shame, guilt, and embarrassment. People dealing with homosexuality are not encouraged to come into the Church body for help and healing within a community that supports them, but are rather backed into the corner of silence and superficiality, for surely it is better to hide a sin like that than to face the judgment that comes with honesty. I fear that people struggling with homosexuality do not see the Church as a place for self-revelation.
In my opinion, we as the Church need to begin to move into a greater understanding of sexual sin as just that – a sin – and not an inescapable identity, so that we can accept homosexuals into the body of believers the way we all so desperately need. Hereby, they can be healed through the love of Jesus found in the Church, which will never be able to take place should they continue to feel shut out and embarrassed. These sinners, along with every sinner, are in bondage to sin and decay and are groaning under the weight of our thwarted vocation as image-bearers. We are sinners, and each day we feel the terrible power of sin within a wicked world. However, we glorify God and help to make His power perfect when we are able to see through this fog of sin to the love of God in which we can still trust. It is our vocation as the Church of Christ to draw all people – even those struggling with homosexuality – into this mentality and not to ignore, dismiss, or judge simply because homosexuality embarrasses us. It seems to me that the most pressing problem is the relationship between the Church and the sinners who comprise her. We need to heal this relationship by treating one another with mutual respect and compassion as Christ does His bride before we begin to target individual sins.
I feel that changes within the Church as a whole must start with us, in our personal lives, and it seems that this could be quite contingent on the way we respond to the news of people’s struggles. We must develop an environment where people feel that they can be transparent about their problems in a place where people will not be shocked, disgusted, or embarrassed. In my counseling classes, I have learned that if people finally get the courage to disclose a problem, and it is a shocking and shaming experience, they will not likely do it again. We discussed this in the context of addictions, but I feel that the same principle applies to the confession of difficult sin. I fear that people struggling with homosexuality so not see the Church as a place for self-revelation. As a counselor and a Christian, I want to make myself a person to whom people feel like they can come to confess and discuss their sin without the fear of an extreme, evasive, or embarrassed reaction.
I feel that it would be the counselor’s responsibility to examine the etiology of these feelings for each particular client, because in some cases, pain caused by hurtful treatment or discouraging expectations has perpetuated feelings of dissatisfaction, insecurity, or confusion, and a therapist can provide help and support for the client as they try to heal from any contributing brokenness (Fitzgibbons, 2001). Beyond the discovery and healing of any past pain, the client may still have strong inclinations towards a homosexual lifestyle, and I feel it the responsibility of a Christian counselor to encourage the client to stay within the will of God. God’s design for us was to function with the greatest effectiveness, and so a Christian view of dysfunction includes any behavior that pulls an individual outside of God’s will for him (Yarhouse et al., 2005). Per the psalms, I believe that God chose our genders consciously and deliberately, and what is sin if not a dissatisfaction with the confusions or difficulties of the plans of God and a choice to step off of His path and into our own simpler, instantly gratifying selfishness? Like the longings of an addict who tries to shake off his unhealthy ways and return back to the health of God, desires and yearnings for sin may never fade completely, but that is true in some part for any sinner.
Each of us has pit falls, siren songs that call to us with particular strength, but an aspect of transformation into Christlikeness is learning to deny the sinful longings of what Paul calls “the flesh” and make a conscious, active, sacrificial choice to go the way of God. To long to walk ones own path, to feel pulled off of the way of God’s will, even by one’s own body, cannot be a sin – Jesus was just so tempted (Matthew 4:1-11). Temptation, discomfort, or even dissatisfaction in our sexuality is not wrong, but behavior, decision, active choice – these pull us into sin. I feel that this is one of the most common and most discouraging Christian misconceptions on the topic of homosexuality. In my experience, Christians tend to feel that any inclination or feeling of homosexuality is a sin, but I feel that the Bible never teaches temptation or inclination as sinful. It is always our wrong choices, our wrong movement, our wrong activity that is a sin. The activity is wrong, the temptation is just like any other sinful temptation – we all need to work to be better than our human tendencies. To live one’s life with a natural temptation towards homosexuality is certainly not a sin. To dismiss off God’s best plan for your sexuality and choose to act on homosexual urges is where sin lies, so it is, in my opinion, the job of the Christian counselor to encourage the client to stay within God’s design for his life and commit to the difficult therapeutic work of learning to function effectively within his given place.
As a potential counselor, I want to war against the temptation towards reductionism and allow people to be more than simply the sum of their sins. If people can be transformed by the knowledge and love of Christ, then that is first and foremost how they should be viewed. I want to approach sin-oriented conversations with the eyes of Christ, seeing others as equals and as whole and complete people, loved by God and therefore certainly not meriting my condescension. I feel that I often fall into the trap of thinking that people will be changed if they are shown the weight and severity of their sin. I take it upon myself to help people to understand just how wrong and how damaging their sin is. But I am quick to forget that in the face of this judgmental attitude, people do not usually grow and change, but rather shrink away and certainly never come back for more. In all this, let me be clear that I do not consider homosexuality to be an appropriate, healthy, or God-honoring lifestyle, which I believe Scripture makes clear. In being gracious, patient, and accepting to homosexuals, or any sinners, we should not allow kindness to make us insecure in our beliefs or permissive of things that do not please the Lord. It is important not to minimize sin or soften our words so much that we never actually speak the truth, but we must also not be crippled by the fear that if we ever give grace, we are becoming cultural accommodators. I hope and pray to become someone who knows what it means to speak the truth in love, and certainly not to see someone else’s sin as greater or more damning than my own. I pray to make my life – and ultimately the Church – a place of compassion and safety, for the ultimate antidote to sin and shame is grace. We certainly do have to keep each other accountable for our actions, but we must first remember that the greatest commandment is to love, not to correct, and that the ground has to be level at the foot of the cross.
References
APA Task Force on Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation. (2009). Report of the Task Force on
Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Therapeutic
Responses to Sexual Orientation. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association
Bayer, Ronald (1987). Homosexuality and American Psychiatry: The Politics of Diagnosis. Princeton: Princeton University
Press.
Boswell, John (1980). Christianity, social tolerance and homosexuality. University of Chicago Press.
Brooten, Bernadette (1998). Love Between Women: Early Christian Responses to Female Homoeroticism. University of Chicago
Press.
Catechism of the Catholic Church. (1994). New York: Doubleday.
Fitzgibbons, R. (2001, June). Gender identity disorder in children. Catholic Magazine. Retrieved November 13, 2009,
from http://www.narth.com/docs/fitz.html
Gagnon, Robert A. J. (2001). The Bible and homosexual practice. Abingdon Press.
Guidelines for Psychotherapy with Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Clients (2010). In American Psychological Association.
Retrieved November 1, 2010, from http://www.apa.org/pi/lgbt/resources/guidelines.aspx
Howard, Kevin L. Paul's View of Male Homosexuality: An Exegetical Study. M.A. thesis (unpublished). Trinity Evangelical
Divinity School. Deerfield, Illinois. June 1996.
International Commission of Jurists. (2007, March) Yogyakarta Principles - Principles on the application of international human
rights law in relation to sexual orientation and gender identity. Retrieved November 13, 2009, from
http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/docid/48244e602.html
Jennings, Theodore (2003). "The Man Jesus Loved: Homoerotic Narratives From the New Testament". Pilgrim Press.
LeVay, Simon (1996). Queer Science: The Use and Abuse of Research into Homosexuality. Cambridge: The MIT Press.
Martin, Dale (1996). Arsenokoites and malakos: Meanings and consequences. In Biblical Ethics and Homosexuality. Ed Robert
Brawley: Westminster Press.
Mendelson, L. (2008, May 5). In re Marriage Cases, No. S147999. In CourtInfo.CA.Gov. Retrieved November 1, 2010,
from http://www.courtinfo.ca.gov/courts/supreme/highprofile/documents/Amer_Psychological_Assn
_Amicus_Curiae_Brief.pdf
Miller, D. (2004). Homosexuality and female menses. In Apologetics Press. Retrieved November 2, 2010, from
http://apologeticspress.org/articles/2645
Parkins, B. (n.d.). Diagnostic criteria for gender identity disorder. Retrieved November 12, 2009, from
http://www.bobparkinslmft.com/info/genderid.html
Shelley, C. (1998). Contemporary perspectives on psychotherapy and homosexualities. London: Free Association Books.
Shepherd, A. (1998, December 11). The Bible and homosexuality. Retrieved November 4, 2010
Weyand, D. (Director). Geary, S., & Grahame-Smith, S. (Writer). (2001). History's mysteries: Sodom and
Gomorrah [Motion picture].
Yarhouse, M., Butman, R., & McRay, B. (2005). Modern Psychopathologies. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press.
Zucker, K., & Bradley, S. (1995). Gender identity disorder and psychosexual problems in children and adolescents. New York:
Guilford Press.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
If You're Happy and You Know It, Are You Poor?
I dont' mean to be ugly, but in church, when it's time for people to come up and give testimonies about their experience on a mission trip.... well I'll just say, even typing the sentence made me bored. Talk about a who's who of either A. public speaking phobics who would rather be in the coffin than giving the eulogy and got tricked into this gig whilst on a delusionally emotional mission trip high, or B. people who have just been biding their time for about the last 15 years, just waiting for such an opportunity to have the ears of everyone they know helplessly captive. Christians need some kind of worship band equivalent to Oscars orchestra music. One step classier than a loud throat clearing but no less effective in letting them know, yeah you're done.
Anyway. Digression.
The point is, amongst the incoherent mumblings or the euphoric release of the storage bank of every anecdote they know on what must surely be mental flashcards, respectively, you can, if you pay attention (it's rare) discern a common theme. People consistently include amongst their many trips impressions this thought: even though they have nothing and we have so much, the people there seemed so much more joyful than we do. It's an overused cliche, almost to the point of packing little punch, but if you think about it, that is an oddity. People have nothing at all, no houses, no food, no clean clothes, no shoes, no water - really nothing, and they're crazy joyful. That might be able to make a little sense, except that it's married to this fact. We AREN'T joyful. We've got all that stuff - we've got safe places to live, we have rights in our country, we have cars, we have good clothes, we aren't hungry and thirsty... If you can muscle your way over the incredible cheesiness, it actually is a bit baffling. Now, I'm no Marcionite, so I don't think that the God of the NT is different in person or character from the God of the OT and if we think that, then we can't say having stuff or wealth or riches is a bad thing. God was crazy proud of Abraham and Joseph and David and others, and all of them were very wealthy - He was proud of their faith and character and lives and so He blessed them in part with material wealth. So I'm not at all saying that wealth or things are bad. But it is a little amazing that we have all been blessed with all of these things and we're discontent, unhappy, greedy, and miserable, while the impoverished, hungry Christians of the third world are joyful and jubilant and generous and happy. What is that? I think that maybe, it isn't that material wealth is bad, it's just that it gets in the way.
Our joy needs to be found in the things of Heaven but that's much harder than finding it in tangible, immediate things that are right here. So maybe it's that, if it's available, we'll try and find our joy in the easy things and stop there (which of course doesn't work, which is why we're so unhappy) but if you're poor, you have nothing, and it isn't available, you're forced - not by choice but my lack of options - to push on towards the healthier, more eternal business of finding joy in the things of Heaven because you don't have any other options. Maybe this is why Jesus says, "blessed are the poor, because theirs is the kingdom of Heaven" (I know it actually says blessed are the poor in spirit, but I'm going to indulge the thought) Maybe the kingdom of Heaven belongs to the poor, not because it's more freely given to them, but because it's given equally to everyone and the poor are the only ones who don't get distracted by other stuff and actually grab for it because they don't have anything else. I think that it isn't about having stuff or not having stuff or whether stuff is good or bad or whatever.
I think people in the Church both feel and are made to feel too guilty for being wealthy. Like I said, people of whom God was very proud were very wealthy, we can't deny that. It isn't about the goodness or badness of the stuff - I happen to think the stuff is neutral. It's about the fact that if people can do a quicker, easier thing to get to an end that feels the same (and being satisfied in your stuff and being satisfied in God does feel the same right at first, I think), they will. Forgive the overly and inaccurately used term, but I think we have spiritual ADD - if there's something frivolous and simple and petty right there in the way, we'll get easily distracted from the better thing, like a little kid who missed his whole class lecture because of his pencil or his shoelaces or the butterflies outside. We want to find joy, but we get distracted because there's so much other stuff to be distracted by. All these crazy joyful poor people are crazy joyful because we all try to find joy, it's just that they have no other options other than to press forward until the find joy in the Lord. There isn't anything else laying around! Like I said, maybe not a choice, maybe a lack of options. But maybe a lucky lack of options.
Anyway. Digression.
The point is, amongst the incoherent mumblings or the euphoric release of the storage bank of every anecdote they know on what must surely be mental flashcards, respectively, you can, if you pay attention (it's rare) discern a common theme. People consistently include amongst their many trips impressions this thought: even though they have nothing and we have so much, the people there seemed so much more joyful than we do. It's an overused cliche, almost to the point of packing little punch, but if you think about it, that is an oddity. People have nothing at all, no houses, no food, no clean clothes, no shoes, no water - really nothing, and they're crazy joyful. That might be able to make a little sense, except that it's married to this fact. We AREN'T joyful. We've got all that stuff - we've got safe places to live, we have rights in our country, we have cars, we have good clothes, we aren't hungry and thirsty... If you can muscle your way over the incredible cheesiness, it actually is a bit baffling. Now, I'm no Marcionite, so I don't think that the God of the NT is different in person or character from the God of the OT and if we think that, then we can't say having stuff or wealth or riches is a bad thing. God was crazy proud of Abraham and Joseph and David and others, and all of them were very wealthy - He was proud of their faith and character and lives and so He blessed them in part with material wealth. So I'm not at all saying that wealth or things are bad. But it is a little amazing that we have all been blessed with all of these things and we're discontent, unhappy, greedy, and miserable, while the impoverished, hungry Christians of the third world are joyful and jubilant and generous and happy. What is that? I think that maybe, it isn't that material wealth is bad, it's just that it gets in the way.
Our joy needs to be found in the things of Heaven but that's much harder than finding it in tangible, immediate things that are right here. So maybe it's that, if it's available, we'll try and find our joy in the easy things and stop there (which of course doesn't work, which is why we're so unhappy) but if you're poor, you have nothing, and it isn't available, you're forced - not by choice but my lack of options - to push on towards the healthier, more eternal business of finding joy in the things of Heaven because you don't have any other options. Maybe this is why Jesus says, "blessed are the poor, because theirs is the kingdom of Heaven" (I know it actually says blessed are the poor in spirit, but I'm going to indulge the thought) Maybe the kingdom of Heaven belongs to the poor, not because it's more freely given to them, but because it's given equally to everyone and the poor are the only ones who don't get distracted by other stuff and actually grab for it because they don't have anything else. I think that it isn't about having stuff or not having stuff or whether stuff is good or bad or whatever.
I think people in the Church both feel and are made to feel too guilty for being wealthy. Like I said, people of whom God was very proud were very wealthy, we can't deny that. It isn't about the goodness or badness of the stuff - I happen to think the stuff is neutral. It's about the fact that if people can do a quicker, easier thing to get to an end that feels the same (and being satisfied in your stuff and being satisfied in God does feel the same right at first, I think), they will. Forgive the overly and inaccurately used term, but I think we have spiritual ADD - if there's something frivolous and simple and petty right there in the way, we'll get easily distracted from the better thing, like a little kid who missed his whole class lecture because of his pencil or his shoelaces or the butterflies outside. We want to find joy, but we get distracted because there's so much other stuff to be distracted by. All these crazy joyful poor people are crazy joyful because we all try to find joy, it's just that they have no other options other than to press forward until the find joy in the Lord. There isn't anything else laying around! Like I said, maybe not a choice, maybe a lack of options. But maybe a lucky lack of options.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
We All Need A Broken Heart?
When you're really sad or something has really hurt you, we call that a broken heart. The image that's always been conjured for me in the idea of a "broken" heart is one of being shattered or smashed. When thinking about a "broken" heart, the metaphors I draw are to dishes or windows - things that are whole and then are shattered. When those things are broken, it takes a very long time to fix them, if you even can. You don't ever want them to be broken - their brokenness is always a negative thing. Nothing about the purpose of a plate or a window is better served by being broken. You don't ever want to break these things, you want to protect them from brokenness, because if they are broken, it is always negative because those things are now far less useful and far less valuable. That's the image I get of a broken heart. It's always a bad thing, it messes things up, it makes you less useful and less valuable, it is something to be fixed and undone. All of this is just like broken dishes. That's my metaphor.
But I thought recently - what is that's the wrong metaphor? There are other things, not at all like dishes, that have to be broken in order to ever be useful. Their purpose is to be broken and it's actually a desirable thing. I know there are more, but the only thing I can think of right now is a walnut. A walnut is just fine if it remains intact. It is kinda pretty, might look good in a nice harvest-themed decoration of some sort. It's fine. But a walnut's real purpose is to either A. be a seed and grow a new tree, or B. be eaten. And this walnut can never be purposeful, it can't accomplish either one of these purposes, if it isn't broken. It has to be broken open if it is ever going to have any potential and if it doesn't it is always just a walnut that was more comfortable but that didn't ever really do anything and then it rots and that's the end. Because see, sometimes, broken doesn't mean shattered. Sometimes broken means opened. And for things where "broken" means, broken open, that breaking open is usually totally necessary for the successful function of that thing.
My thought it - maybe our hearts are a lot more like the walnut than they are like the plate. We fear brokenheartedness - I know I do - and I think we worry that it's a terribly negative thing to be protected against and avoided, because it "ruins" our heart, at least for a time, and makes our heart far less useful and we need to fix this situation as quick as we can. That's the fear. But what if our hearts, in brokenness, are actually broken open? What is brokenheartedness is actually our time of greatest potential usefulness and value? That doesn't make it hurt less - being cracked open but a nutcracker isn't pleasant for the walnut, no sir - but not all things that hurt us are bad (I'm thinking, shots, grad school, some breakups, dissertations) and not all things that are bad, immediately hurt us (I'm thinking, cocaine.) There's a reason why being made into the image of God is called the refiner's FIRE. We are freaking burned and melted before we're any better. When a refiner refines gold, he melts it until the impurities float to the top and then he scrapes those off and repeats that process over and over until the gold is really pure. The way he can see that it is really good and pure is that he can see His face reflected in it. Awesome metaphor, right? This gold has to be burned and melted (broken, in it's own way) before it is any good. We as a culture (maybe just as people, who knows) have done ourselves a great disservice and we have liked hurtfulness and badness inextricably together. That's why we get people doing terribly unwise things and justifying with a "something that feels this right can't be wrong." that improper linking, in my opinion, has caused us to naturally make brokenheartedness a negative thing.
But as I said, maybe we aren't shattered. Maybe we are broken open like the walnut. Maybe brokenness is an enviable time of vulnerability, of a little less guardedness, of really being able to identify with someone else's pain, of openness and empathy to others, of openness and malleability to God.
I know when I was brokenhearted over Michael, I was the saddest I'd ever been but I was also talking to God more than I ever had and I was, more than ever, acutely aware of the fact that if I got ANYTHING done, He had helped me. I was depressed, and so if I had been left on my own, I would not have gotten up, or showered, or gone to class, or eaten. But I did do all those things, and I prayed for the strength to do every one of them, and I was very aware that I hadn't done them by myself, because I couldn't have. The image I had of myself was one of a little child in her dad's lap, face buried in his arms, crying and crying over what has hurt her. Is the dad sad that she's hurting? No. But is he happy that something occurred that caused her to put down her toys and frivolous business and simple little luxuries and sit so close to him in his lap for a while and beg for his help? No, I don't think he's too sorry over that. If she were happy and strong and seemingly self-sufficient, she would be off somewhere, doing something else, farther from him. I remember saying one time that I had never been closer to God or more aware and thankful for how much He takes care of me than I was during this time, and that, even though I was so sad, I would do it all again if that's what it took for that time of closeness with Him.
Maybe brokenheartedness is a thing to be accepted, even desired. Maybe it is a time to be treasured. Maybe we are broken open, instead of shattered.
But I thought recently - what is that's the wrong metaphor? There are other things, not at all like dishes, that have to be broken in order to ever be useful. Their purpose is to be broken and it's actually a desirable thing. I know there are more, but the only thing I can think of right now is a walnut. A walnut is just fine if it remains intact. It is kinda pretty, might look good in a nice harvest-themed decoration of some sort. It's fine. But a walnut's real purpose is to either A. be a seed and grow a new tree, or B. be eaten. And this walnut can never be purposeful, it can't accomplish either one of these purposes, if it isn't broken. It has to be broken open if it is ever going to have any potential and if it doesn't it is always just a walnut that was more comfortable but that didn't ever really do anything and then it rots and that's the end. Because see, sometimes, broken doesn't mean shattered. Sometimes broken means opened. And for things where "broken" means, broken open, that breaking open is usually totally necessary for the successful function of that thing.
My thought it - maybe our hearts are a lot more like the walnut than they are like the plate. We fear brokenheartedness - I know I do - and I think we worry that it's a terribly negative thing to be protected against and avoided, because it "ruins" our heart, at least for a time, and makes our heart far less useful and we need to fix this situation as quick as we can. That's the fear. But what if our hearts, in brokenness, are actually broken open? What is brokenheartedness is actually our time of greatest potential usefulness and value? That doesn't make it hurt less - being cracked open but a nutcracker isn't pleasant for the walnut, no sir - but not all things that hurt us are bad (I'm thinking, shots, grad school, some breakups, dissertations) and not all things that are bad, immediately hurt us (I'm thinking, cocaine.) There's a reason why being made into the image of God is called the refiner's FIRE. We are freaking burned and melted before we're any better. When a refiner refines gold, he melts it until the impurities float to the top and then he scrapes those off and repeats that process over and over until the gold is really pure. The way he can see that it is really good and pure is that he can see His face reflected in it. Awesome metaphor, right? This gold has to be burned and melted (broken, in it's own way) before it is any good. We as a culture (maybe just as people, who knows) have done ourselves a great disservice and we have liked hurtfulness and badness inextricably together. That's why we get people doing terribly unwise things and justifying with a "something that feels this right can't be wrong." that improper linking, in my opinion, has caused us to naturally make brokenheartedness a negative thing.
But as I said, maybe we aren't shattered. Maybe we are broken open like the walnut. Maybe brokenness is an enviable time of vulnerability, of a little less guardedness, of really being able to identify with someone else's pain, of openness and empathy to others, of openness and malleability to God.
I know when I was brokenhearted over Michael, I was the saddest I'd ever been but I was also talking to God more than I ever had and I was, more than ever, acutely aware of the fact that if I got ANYTHING done, He had helped me. I was depressed, and so if I had been left on my own, I would not have gotten up, or showered, or gone to class, or eaten. But I did do all those things, and I prayed for the strength to do every one of them, and I was very aware that I hadn't done them by myself, because I couldn't have. The image I had of myself was one of a little child in her dad's lap, face buried in his arms, crying and crying over what has hurt her. Is the dad sad that she's hurting? No. But is he happy that something occurred that caused her to put down her toys and frivolous business and simple little luxuries and sit so close to him in his lap for a while and beg for his help? No, I don't think he's too sorry over that. If she were happy and strong and seemingly self-sufficient, she would be off somewhere, doing something else, farther from him. I remember saying one time that I had never been closer to God or more aware and thankful for how much He takes care of me than I was during this time, and that, even though I was so sad, I would do it all again if that's what it took for that time of closeness with Him.
Maybe brokenheartedness is a thing to be accepted, even desired. Maybe it is a time to be treasured. Maybe we are broken open, instead of shattered.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Editing
I'm writing all of these things down just for myself, and I'm not sharing them with anyone. I like to think this is so I can speak freely and all that. I guess that's true, but it's mostly because I don't want to edit. If I knew other people were going to read this, I would go back through, re-read, check for typos, try to make it funnier, spend MUCH more time trying to be much more impressive and say things much better than all of this. Mostly I know, if people were going to read this, it wold be stressful, take way more time, and I'd quit doing it. This makes me ask two questions:
1. Why do I feel like I'm wasting my time when I do something that is not for anyone else? Why, as I write these entries, do I feel like this is a waste since no one will see them but me? Why isn't doing something for no one else but myself good enough? Why isn't just wanting something, just for me, just because I want it, a good enough reason to do it?
2. If I knew someone would read it, why would I suddenly feel such an urge to edit? Why is just speaking what I think, without trying to be funny, without a read-over, typos and all - why do I feel like that is good enough for me but not for anyone else? Why would someone else's involvement make what I have here suddenly not good enough? Why the sudden need to gloss and edit and reframe and perfect?
I don't really have a lot to say other than to ask the question and wonder about it, but I do wonder, how much of my time and my efforts are spent editing everything? One of the delightful things about children is that they just blurt out their exact evaluation of the situation - no apology, no hedging, no diplomacy. I'm not suggesting that a better society is one with no filters at all because there is obviously a great deal to be said for wisdom and tact, but there is something lovely about being able to show exactly who you are and what you think indiscriminately. I also think that we often use the words "kindness" and "wisdom" and "diplomacy" and "tact" to justify behaviors that are really only hiding and pleasing and image-management. I know that's true of me. In the name of being a "peace-maker," I just indulge my own cowardice and refuse to challenge or confront.
In Galatians 2, Paul says,
"It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.
Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God? I refuse to do that, to repudiate God's grace. If a living relationship with God could come by rule-keeping, then Christ died unnecessarily."
The part I love is "It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion ... Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God?" I see in myself a bad tendency to do just that - to work things out so that I appear righteous, have people's good opinion, practice peer-pleasing religion, and what's worse is that when the Spirit or some other loving person tries to challenge me on that, I brush away the conviction by packaging the behavior as "being all things to all people" or "being a light" or "limiting myself for the weaker brother" - all things that are good when they're actually true, but that are just excuses when what you're really doing is image-management.
Like I said before, I probably couldn't write these things down and just post them like I do if I thought lots of people would read them, because I would need there to be no typos (what if they think I'm an idiot?) and I would need the have more jokes and cleaner points and better metaphors (they need to know I'm a good writer, right?) and with all of that, it would take way too much time to do this and I'd let it fall by the wayside. Something good that I was doing for myself would be lost because I just couldn't stomach the thought of presenting anything imperfect, rough, flawed, or unedited to anyone who might be forming an opinion about me. Can't have that.
How many things do we have no time for because all of our time is taken up editing and making sure everything is coming off right? How much of our freedom is Christ is wasted because we don't take advantage of it because we're afraid of whom that freedom might offend?
I do not mean to say we can always do exactly whatever we want. There is definitely something good to be said for making sure that we're being good examples for Christ and for limiting our own freedom to help the weaker brother and all of that. But what I am saying is that I think we should be honest about how much we're actually doing those things for the sake of the kingdom and how much we're just managing our images and reputations, and we just happen to be smart enough to give it a more palatable name.
1. Why do I feel like I'm wasting my time when I do something that is not for anyone else? Why, as I write these entries, do I feel like this is a waste since no one will see them but me? Why isn't doing something for no one else but myself good enough? Why isn't just wanting something, just for me, just because I want it, a good enough reason to do it?
2. If I knew someone would read it, why would I suddenly feel such an urge to edit? Why is just speaking what I think, without trying to be funny, without a read-over, typos and all - why do I feel like that is good enough for me but not for anyone else? Why would someone else's involvement make what I have here suddenly not good enough? Why the sudden need to gloss and edit and reframe and perfect?
I don't really have a lot to say other than to ask the question and wonder about it, but I do wonder, how much of my time and my efforts are spent editing everything? One of the delightful things about children is that they just blurt out their exact evaluation of the situation - no apology, no hedging, no diplomacy. I'm not suggesting that a better society is one with no filters at all because there is obviously a great deal to be said for wisdom and tact, but there is something lovely about being able to show exactly who you are and what you think indiscriminately. I also think that we often use the words "kindness" and "wisdom" and "diplomacy" and "tact" to justify behaviors that are really only hiding and pleasing and image-management. I know that's true of me. In the name of being a "peace-maker," I just indulge my own cowardice and refuse to challenge or confront.
In Galatians 2, Paul says,
"It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.
Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God? I refuse to do that, to repudiate God's grace. If a living relationship with God could come by rule-keeping, then Christ died unnecessarily."
The part I love is "It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion ... Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God?" I see in myself a bad tendency to do just that - to work things out so that I appear righteous, have people's good opinion, practice peer-pleasing religion, and what's worse is that when the Spirit or some other loving person tries to challenge me on that, I brush away the conviction by packaging the behavior as "being all things to all people" or "being a light" or "limiting myself for the weaker brother" - all things that are good when they're actually true, but that are just excuses when what you're really doing is image-management.
Like I said before, I probably couldn't write these things down and just post them like I do if I thought lots of people would read them, because I would need there to be no typos (what if they think I'm an idiot?) and I would need the have more jokes and cleaner points and better metaphors (they need to know I'm a good writer, right?) and with all of that, it would take way too much time to do this and I'd let it fall by the wayside. Something good that I was doing for myself would be lost because I just couldn't stomach the thought of presenting anything imperfect, rough, flawed, or unedited to anyone who might be forming an opinion about me. Can't have that.
How many things do we have no time for because all of our time is taken up editing and making sure everything is coming off right? How much of our freedom is Christ is wasted because we don't take advantage of it because we're afraid of whom that freedom might offend?
I do not mean to say we can always do exactly whatever we want. There is definitely something good to be said for making sure that we're being good examples for Christ and for limiting our own freedom to help the weaker brother and all of that. But what I am saying is that I think we should be honest about how much we're actually doing those things for the sake of the kingdom and how much we're just managing our images and reputations, and we just happen to be smart enough to give it a more palatable name.
Chair Introduction
In class today, Dr. Hook (my human sexuality professor) asked us to discuss questions in small groups. One of the questions he posed was, "how did your father impact or maleness or femaleness?" ... I raised my hand and I asked him why he had asked about our father's impact but not our mother's. I'm no feminist, so I wasn't militant for the equal inclusion of mothers. I just found it interesting that, per the omission of a question about mothers, Dr. Hook seemed to think that a father had more impact on his children's healthy general (and for this conversation, sexual) development than did their mother. He answered me and said that he didn't want to get into all the reasons why in the short time that we had left, but that he could say that most of the time, people's major woundedness comes from their fathers, and that he hypothesized that everyone has wounds from their father. To access these and help intentional healing begin, he does this exercise with his clients:
(This works especially well in group counseling settings)
You (the client) stand up with a chair in front of you. You then pretend that you are sitting in the chair, and, in the voice of your father, you introduce yourself to the room. You act as though you are your own father, and you are telling this room full of people about your child (which is you.) So in my case, I would stand behind the empty chair and say, "Hi everyone, my name is Larry Ray, and this is my daughter Rainey. Let me tell you about her. ..." And then you commence to say to the room what you think your father would say about you. You can say, "this is how I feel about Rainey," "this is what I'm proud of," "this is what I'm not proud of," "this is something I'd like to apologize for," ... anything. You say anything that you think your father would think/feel/say about you. He said that when he does this, people almost all the time will start crying. For some reason, he said, this format is disarming, and so it ends up hitting things that aren't accessed quite as well if you just have the clients speak as themselves as tell you about their dad. For some reason, people are more ready for that and so they are prepared to deal better with it. But in this exercise, changing the format of thinking about your father is different enough that clients are able to access wounds that they are normally able to cover.
I don't think I need to tell you. I LOVE THIS. I want to do this with a client as soon as I can.
I also want him to tell me the reasons why your dad shapes you so much more. Maybe it's because God acts primarily as our father, some of the primary imagery with which He paints Himself in Scripture is that of "Father." So maybe, we connect with and are shaped by our fathers so much more powerfully because they were engineered by God to model for us how we should think about and feel about and trust God. I know that my picture of God is a strong and healthy one largely because it isn't hard for me to imagine. I had a strong, dependable, trustworthy, loving father figure, so it isn't a stretch to buy into another one. So maybe, we know deep down that our father is the head of the household, our father is our leader, because he has been given the ultimate responsibility of teaching us in very large part how to think well about God. That is his divinely appointed commission. So when our father wounds us, it hurts that much more because now we have not only been hurt by a parent upon whom we were supposed to be able to count, but also had our image of God because a little more unstable. Maybe our father hurts us more because we then grieve on two fronts, even if we don't realize it.
It also makes you wonder just how much (definitely longterm, possibly irreparable) damage is being inflicted within a society where paternal neglect, disassociation, and abandonment are so permissible, maybe even normal, maybe even expected.
(This works especially well in group counseling settings)
You (the client) stand up with a chair in front of you. You then pretend that you are sitting in the chair, and, in the voice of your father, you introduce yourself to the room. You act as though you are your own father, and you are telling this room full of people about your child (which is you.) So in my case, I would stand behind the empty chair and say, "Hi everyone, my name is Larry Ray, and this is my daughter Rainey. Let me tell you about her. ..." And then you commence to say to the room what you think your father would say about you. You can say, "this is how I feel about Rainey," "this is what I'm proud of," "this is what I'm not proud of," "this is something I'd like to apologize for," ... anything. You say anything that you think your father would think/feel/say about you. He said that when he does this, people almost all the time will start crying. For some reason, he said, this format is disarming, and so it ends up hitting things that aren't accessed quite as well if you just have the clients speak as themselves as tell you about their dad. For some reason, people are more ready for that and so they are prepared to deal better with it. But in this exercise, changing the format of thinking about your father is different enough that clients are able to access wounds that they are normally able to cover.
I don't think I need to tell you. I LOVE THIS. I want to do this with a client as soon as I can.
I also want him to tell me the reasons why your dad shapes you so much more. Maybe it's because God acts primarily as our father, some of the primary imagery with which He paints Himself in Scripture is that of "Father." So maybe, we connect with and are shaped by our fathers so much more powerfully because they were engineered by God to model for us how we should think about and feel about and trust God. I know that my picture of God is a strong and healthy one largely because it isn't hard for me to imagine. I had a strong, dependable, trustworthy, loving father figure, so it isn't a stretch to buy into another one. So maybe, we know deep down that our father is the head of the household, our father is our leader, because he has been given the ultimate responsibility of teaching us in very large part how to think well about God. That is his divinely appointed commission. So when our father wounds us, it hurts that much more because now we have not only been hurt by a parent upon whom we were supposed to be able to count, but also had our image of God because a little more unstable. Maybe our father hurts us more because we then grieve on two fronts, even if we don't realize it.
It also makes you wonder just how much (definitely longterm, possibly irreparable) damage is being inflicted within a society where paternal neglect, disassociation, and abandonment are so permissible, maybe even normal, maybe even expected.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
My Own Addiction
Gerald May opens his book Addiction and Grace with the assertion that each of us is born with an innate desire for God, and I would have to agree with him. We do desire God; the only trouble is, we desire a great number of other things as well. Adam and Eve as our archetypal representatives showed us that, with the right application of bad peer pressure or just the wrong circumstance, we will choose other things (and ultimately, choose ourselves) over God. That desire for God is not crushed out, but rather buried underneath quilts of frivolous luxuries and simple ambitions, so that at best, it is muffled and at worst, it is forgotten. While it does, at times, find a way to peak through and, just for an instant, shine its full brightness into our lives and elicit a wrenching longing that C. S. Lewis called joy, most of the time this desire for God is stifled by things we have decided to want more. As we are often prone to do in relationships with people, so it is with our distractions, as we seek out one true love and throw ourselves fully into the pursuit of what we think will fill us up. Ironically, we are seeking to fill the emptiness left in the hole that we created when we said a “thank you but no thank you” to the one wonderful Thing that could have actually contented us. Amidst our armies of distractions, we often tend to find one that we hold particularly dear, one that just perfectly feeds our particular tendencies, and we happily commit to what we do not yet realize will addict us.
In Addiction and Grace, May deals with the problem of addictions and attachments, as well as the spiritual process of loosening one’s grip on that addiction. He does not, however, focus solely on traditional addictions like narcotics or alcohol, but rather allows for a full gamut, wide enough that most honestly introspective people could find a spot for themselves upon it. By making room on the spectrum of addiction for more subtle ones, such as stress or work addiction, May is able to make his assertion that each of us, in some way, suffers from addiction (3). This is particularly appropriate for me, because the true love I found, the one with whom I became infatuated and the one whom I trusted to satisfy me, was and is my own achievement. I can say that I am addicted to achievement and success. Not stress per se, because if my success can come easily down the path of least resistance with time to spare, so much the better. But however it comes, I see in myself a compulsive need, at all times, to be achieving a goal so that I have something to show for myself. My love of success is anchored in the hope of what I want it to provide for me. I am hoping that my success will give me value – the more I have to show for my day, the more I was able to accomplish, the more useful I was, the more I am worth.
The deep irony is that this provision of love and assignment of value that I seek for myself is exactly what God wants to give me for free, and inconceivably, I wouldn’t even have to do anything for it. But I daily choose to ignore that gift of value and instead to go out and fight for it myself. It might be that, if I were to allow someone else’s work, like God’s, to give me worth, that would be too dangerous a thing because, what if He couldn’t or wouldn’t or chose not to deliver? How devastated would I be then? No, I would much rather anchor something as fragile and deeply important as my own value to that which I can control. May puts it aptly when he asserts that these addictions are idols, displacing the worship that should be focused on God (4). Instead of trusting Him to provide this love and value that I need, I go after it myself, because my own work feels more trustworthy than His does. I can force myself to work things out, but I cannot ever force Him. So I would rather love that which I know, if worst comes to worst, I can control. If I am working and achieving and providing myself with value, then there is no need to trust anyone else. Much safer that way, it would seem.
Like Eve who so aptly represented me, I allow Satan to convince me that it would be much wiser to just take for myself than to let God provide. And with this dynamic in place, I work everyday to prove my own worth, and have become addicted to my own achievement. May asserts that an addict is making an attempt to control her own environment. This is most certainly descriptive of me. Aside from a twelve-step program during which members are required to simply sit and accomplish nothing, what I feel will help me to be honest about my own unhealthy and addicted priorities and will help me to begin to loosen that grip on control is the practice of contemplative spirituality.
I feel that this behavior is an addiction in my life because it has begun to interfere with my choices and healthy functioning. There have been many times in my life – this semester being no exception – when I have been stretched to capacity. I have maximized every second. I have grossly overscheduled myself and can only survive by using a weekly planner that is so meticulously detailed that I have even had to schedule in my own free time, or else I would not take any. Monday, 4:00-4:45: watch TV. Thursday, 3:00-3:30: read for pleasure. And that is it – that is the free time for my day. Nothing can spontaneously come up, no plans can be made at the last minute. I have six classes. I have three jobs, each of which has been described by others as the only extra thing anyone could possibly do in a semester. No minute is wasted.
The situation I have created is incredibly unhealthy. And yet, when Dr. Greener approached me last week and asked if I would like to be a leader on a team of people to start a new outreach program in North Chicago, I agreed without a pause. One more thing. When I realized that my church service on Sunday morning does not start until 10:30, I started lightly inquiring at Panera, to see if I could get hired for a short Sunday morning early shift. This is no exaggeration, I had this conversation not five days ago. I compulsively add jobs, achievements, and accomplishments into a life that is already full to bursting. For someone who equates usefulness and accomplishments with value and lovability, any down time is an unlovable minute. Any job that I choose not to take (nevermind that I already have three others) feels like a squandered opportunity to better myself and, by extension, make myself more valuable. I compulsively agree to tasks and jobs and projects, but the incredibly unhealthy situation I have created for myself bears no weight the next time someone asks if I would be interested in an opportunity. May was right when he called these addictions a 'counterfeit of religious presence' (13) because it an experience close to religious. I worship this work and, by that logic, myself.
May provides five characteristics of addiction, and I find them very apt and appropriate. He lists: tolerance, withdrawal, self-deception, loss of willpower, and distortion of attention. Tolerance is the dynamic of constantly needing more of an addictive behavior to feel satisfied. Withdrawal manifests as a stress reaction, as the system needs the behavior, and a backlash, as the person experiences the opposite of the addiction’s comfort. In self-deception, our mind creatively blocks every effort to control or admit the addictive behavior. Loss of willpower is a stage during which the will of the addict is divided. Part of him may truly want to be free, but another part finds comfort in the addiction and wants to continue. For a true addiction, the part that remains committed is the stronger of the two. Finally, the addict reaches distortion of attention, in which he focuses so much attention on the addiction that he finds it difficult to love anything else. His new god has his full attention, all his worship, and the idolatry is complete (26-29).
Personally, I see myself in the stage of having lost willpower. I cannot see a full distortion of attention, because I do have many other things in my life that I love and people with whom I connect. I do not only desire my accomplishments and they do not consume my thoughts to the exclusion of other loves, but I feel that I have displayed a loss of willpower. Several times this semester, I have felt the depth of my over-commitment – like butter scraped over too much bread. I have so much to do that I can barely give my all to even those things. And yet, as I mentioned before, opportunities have been presented to me and I have quickly, without any prayer or any thought, accepted them. I have added one more thing when I know well that I do not even have room for my current commitments. Like a glutton, I disregard my present state of fullness and can only see the potential of this thing now in front of me, and I have to have it too. I have wished, later, that I hadn’t agreed to anything more. I wish that I had been strong enough and had had the presence of mind to say, “Thank you, but no. I wisely know my own limits.” But weariness and wisdom are no match for the much stronger bullies of insecurity and desperation for value, and are promptly silenced. Except for the rare victory, usually occasioned by the intervention of someone else, weariness and wisdom are on a pretty steady losing streak: the Chicago Cubs of weaker wills. My true desire is for some rest, for some contented security, and mostly for the Lord’s assurance of my value, but I am compelled to give my energy to something else (14). I want to be made secure and valuable by His love, but I substitute Him for myself, so addiction exists for me. If I think an opportunity could benefit me and, in my eyes, make me better, I will take it. No matter that I haven’t slept since summer.
Not only is my addiction not condemned by the Church, but it is also reinforced. When I bring my addicted need for a goal to church, it is met with praise of hard work and the ever-lovely title of “servant.” Far from seen as problematic, my addiction is in fact upheld as virtuous. The fact that I want to undertake any necessary task makes me a willing servant in religious eyes. It makes me a giver of myself and shows willingness to put the things of God first, nevermind the ironic fact that I am doing these things to try and exclude that very God from my frantic, desperate clawing for self-worth.
My addiction is similarly reinforced by my culture. While I do not believe that every American suffers from this same addicted love of work, I do believe that this has been influenced and bred in some respects by American culture. In my opinion, we are a society that values hard work, personal achievement, and the ability to pull oneself up by one’s own bootstraps and go it alone on the pursuit of the goal, true to our roots of cowboys and rugged-individualists. We have a colloquialism for what we call “The American Dream” – so dear do we hold it that we have endowed it with a proper name – and we often hold this dream of working as hard as you can, to have as much to show for yourself as you can, up as the highest good. I thought for a while that this was simply the human experience. It is not. The Italian people have a term, il bel far niente, that simply means the beauty of doing nothing. While they are hard workers, the goal of their work is il bel far niente – finally creating a space for yourself to do a lovely bunch of absolutely nothing. It is something, for them, to be envied and valued. I know this to be true, and yet this idea, for me, is so inconceivable that I don’t really believe that anyone actually desires that, much less is fulfilled by it. Preposterous. How useless I would feel! I feel that American culture, with all of its priorities on strivings and accomplishments, has certainly created a platform for the growth of this addiction, largely because an addiction of hard work is reinforced and even praised here. If you can work harder and longer and faster than anyone else, that is an enviable and praisable virtue, not to be worried about until you are nearly dead. I feel that my addiction is not only acceptable, but rather is exalted.
But if American culture was the cultivating incubator of my addiction to achievement, my family was certainly its birthplace. We are all products of my great grandfather, Joe, an independent farmer who saw his children as unpaid staff and had the same tolerance for goofy, fun-loving ease as an English Puritan. Idleness was unacceptable. If you murdered someone, his biggest concern would be the efficiency and cost-effectiveness with which you did it. Better to be productive than godly, if the choice ever came down to it. If you break an arm or a leg, find a job that one requires one leg and get to it while you heal up as quickly as possible. My family is full of can-do attitudes and unstoppable natures that have taught the next generation our family anthems of work. You need to contribute, and God forbid you should get uselessly underfoot and slow progress. Productivity is passed along like genes.
My time at school was no different. My parents had no time for my complaints that the only reason I was in trouble at elementary school was because my teacher was mean. My complaints met deaf ears, partially because they knew well that the real reason I was in trouble at school was because I bit everyone – including that teacher – but more importantly, because my task was to learn work hard, even at the simple tasks of children, and fulfill my purpose, and get my jobs done. Not on their watch would I be the child who could not contribute or did not progress.
As soon as I got my driver’s license, my father told me that anyone who was grown up enough to have a license was grown up enough to have a job. For anyone in our house, a license and a job came together. It was, in hindsight, a positive experience, and I am grateful to my family for instilling into each generation an incorrigible work ethic, just maybe not for the extents to which it has come into my own life. Since then, through all of high school and college, working with all my might has simply seemed self-evident.
My family values that which is useful and helpful, both in our surroundings and in each other, and we see hard work as the highest good. This dynamic has instilled in me a fairly constant – and now addictive – drive to prove myself and my own worth. If you don’t contribute and bring something to show for yourself, you may find yourself flattened or forgotten amongst the perpetual forward-movement of people who have no time for the weak or the useless. As I have grown older, I have realized that this dynamic has created in me a real fear of failure and uselessness. I know in my head that everyone needs rest and no one can do everything, but in my heart, I often feel that my failures and incapabilities mean that I am useless, and by extension, unlovable. It has created a dynamic in which it is very difficult for me to believe God when He says that He is the one who finishes and accomplishes things and that I am made valuable by His work. I know that I should be able to rest in the fact that His love is not contingent on what I am able to do or not do, but this is extremely challenging for me, when so many other places in my life have reinforced the message that I do have something to prove. I have been told so often by my family, my community, even the challenging schools I have always attended that ability, hard-work, and success are what is valuable, and so I have a difficult times transitioning into a relationship with a God who is not turned off by my inability or weakness.
I am in continuous prayer that God will help me to really believe that He values me for who I am, not what I am able to accomplish or offer to Him. I feel that this is vital to my counseling, because my biggest fear is that I will consider myself successful when and only when I have been able to “fix” every client. Because achievement is my addiction, I fear that I will be in danger of seeing clients as jobs that are either successful or not, and that I will hinge my own value on that success. I fear that I will want to impose my values – to figure out the best plan of action and to have little patience when the client does not immediately take the steps to make everything right, because I want to “get this job done” instead of “meet and know this person.” I fear that I will want to help the client take charge of his situation the way that I would and will take it as a personal failure when he does not. I know in my head that I can only do my best in working for the Lord and beyond that, I cannot hold myself responsible for a client’s choices. But I fear that my old family values will creep in and tell me that I should have done better, I should have been able to save this person, and that this will lead to the breakdown and burnout of my confidence and drive. I am working to trust God when He tells me that my value and success, as a person and a counselor, are found in Him, to believe that He makes me worthwhile despite inability, and to take one step towards freedom from a self-worshipping addiction.
In Addiction and Grace, May deals with the problem of addictions and attachments, as well as the spiritual process of loosening one’s grip on that addiction. He does not, however, focus solely on traditional addictions like narcotics or alcohol, but rather allows for a full gamut, wide enough that most honestly introspective people could find a spot for themselves upon it. By making room on the spectrum of addiction for more subtle ones, such as stress or work addiction, May is able to make his assertion that each of us, in some way, suffers from addiction (3). This is particularly appropriate for me, because the true love I found, the one with whom I became infatuated and the one whom I trusted to satisfy me, was and is my own achievement. I can say that I am addicted to achievement and success. Not stress per se, because if my success can come easily down the path of least resistance with time to spare, so much the better. But however it comes, I see in myself a compulsive need, at all times, to be achieving a goal so that I have something to show for myself. My love of success is anchored in the hope of what I want it to provide for me. I am hoping that my success will give me value – the more I have to show for my day, the more I was able to accomplish, the more useful I was, the more I am worth.
The deep irony is that this provision of love and assignment of value that I seek for myself is exactly what God wants to give me for free, and inconceivably, I wouldn’t even have to do anything for it. But I daily choose to ignore that gift of value and instead to go out and fight for it myself. It might be that, if I were to allow someone else’s work, like God’s, to give me worth, that would be too dangerous a thing because, what if He couldn’t or wouldn’t or chose not to deliver? How devastated would I be then? No, I would much rather anchor something as fragile and deeply important as my own value to that which I can control. May puts it aptly when he asserts that these addictions are idols, displacing the worship that should be focused on God (4). Instead of trusting Him to provide this love and value that I need, I go after it myself, because my own work feels more trustworthy than His does. I can force myself to work things out, but I cannot ever force Him. So I would rather love that which I know, if worst comes to worst, I can control. If I am working and achieving and providing myself with value, then there is no need to trust anyone else. Much safer that way, it would seem.
Like Eve who so aptly represented me, I allow Satan to convince me that it would be much wiser to just take for myself than to let God provide. And with this dynamic in place, I work everyday to prove my own worth, and have become addicted to my own achievement. May asserts that an addict is making an attempt to control her own environment. This is most certainly descriptive of me. Aside from a twelve-step program during which members are required to simply sit and accomplish nothing, what I feel will help me to be honest about my own unhealthy and addicted priorities and will help me to begin to loosen that grip on control is the practice of contemplative spirituality.
I feel that this behavior is an addiction in my life because it has begun to interfere with my choices and healthy functioning. There have been many times in my life – this semester being no exception – when I have been stretched to capacity. I have maximized every second. I have grossly overscheduled myself and can only survive by using a weekly planner that is so meticulously detailed that I have even had to schedule in my own free time, or else I would not take any. Monday, 4:00-4:45: watch TV. Thursday, 3:00-3:30: read for pleasure. And that is it – that is the free time for my day. Nothing can spontaneously come up, no plans can be made at the last minute. I have six classes. I have three jobs, each of which has been described by others as the only extra thing anyone could possibly do in a semester. No minute is wasted.
The situation I have created is incredibly unhealthy. And yet, when Dr. Greener approached me last week and asked if I would like to be a leader on a team of people to start a new outreach program in North Chicago, I agreed without a pause. One more thing. When I realized that my church service on Sunday morning does not start until 10:30, I started lightly inquiring at Panera, to see if I could get hired for a short Sunday morning early shift. This is no exaggeration, I had this conversation not five days ago. I compulsively add jobs, achievements, and accomplishments into a life that is already full to bursting. For someone who equates usefulness and accomplishments with value and lovability, any down time is an unlovable minute. Any job that I choose not to take (nevermind that I already have three others) feels like a squandered opportunity to better myself and, by extension, make myself more valuable. I compulsively agree to tasks and jobs and projects, but the incredibly unhealthy situation I have created for myself bears no weight the next time someone asks if I would be interested in an opportunity. May was right when he called these addictions a 'counterfeit of religious presence' (13) because it an experience close to religious. I worship this work and, by that logic, myself.
May provides five characteristics of addiction, and I find them very apt and appropriate. He lists: tolerance, withdrawal, self-deception, loss of willpower, and distortion of attention. Tolerance is the dynamic of constantly needing more of an addictive behavior to feel satisfied. Withdrawal manifests as a stress reaction, as the system needs the behavior, and a backlash, as the person experiences the opposite of the addiction’s comfort. In self-deception, our mind creatively blocks every effort to control or admit the addictive behavior. Loss of willpower is a stage during which the will of the addict is divided. Part of him may truly want to be free, but another part finds comfort in the addiction and wants to continue. For a true addiction, the part that remains committed is the stronger of the two. Finally, the addict reaches distortion of attention, in which he focuses so much attention on the addiction that he finds it difficult to love anything else. His new god has his full attention, all his worship, and the idolatry is complete (26-29).
Personally, I see myself in the stage of having lost willpower. I cannot see a full distortion of attention, because I do have many other things in my life that I love and people with whom I connect. I do not only desire my accomplishments and they do not consume my thoughts to the exclusion of other loves, but I feel that I have displayed a loss of willpower. Several times this semester, I have felt the depth of my over-commitment – like butter scraped over too much bread. I have so much to do that I can barely give my all to even those things. And yet, as I mentioned before, opportunities have been presented to me and I have quickly, without any prayer or any thought, accepted them. I have added one more thing when I know well that I do not even have room for my current commitments. Like a glutton, I disregard my present state of fullness and can only see the potential of this thing now in front of me, and I have to have it too. I have wished, later, that I hadn’t agreed to anything more. I wish that I had been strong enough and had had the presence of mind to say, “Thank you, but no. I wisely know my own limits.” But weariness and wisdom are no match for the much stronger bullies of insecurity and desperation for value, and are promptly silenced. Except for the rare victory, usually occasioned by the intervention of someone else, weariness and wisdom are on a pretty steady losing streak: the Chicago Cubs of weaker wills. My true desire is for some rest, for some contented security, and mostly for the Lord’s assurance of my value, but I am compelled to give my energy to something else (14). I want to be made secure and valuable by His love, but I substitute Him for myself, so addiction exists for me. If I think an opportunity could benefit me and, in my eyes, make me better, I will take it. No matter that I haven’t slept since summer.
Not only is my addiction not condemned by the Church, but it is also reinforced. When I bring my addicted need for a goal to church, it is met with praise of hard work and the ever-lovely title of “servant.” Far from seen as problematic, my addiction is in fact upheld as virtuous. The fact that I want to undertake any necessary task makes me a willing servant in religious eyes. It makes me a giver of myself and shows willingness to put the things of God first, nevermind the ironic fact that I am doing these things to try and exclude that very God from my frantic, desperate clawing for self-worth.
My addiction is similarly reinforced by my culture. While I do not believe that every American suffers from this same addicted love of work, I do believe that this has been influenced and bred in some respects by American culture. In my opinion, we are a society that values hard work, personal achievement, and the ability to pull oneself up by one’s own bootstraps and go it alone on the pursuit of the goal, true to our roots of cowboys and rugged-individualists. We have a colloquialism for what we call “The American Dream” – so dear do we hold it that we have endowed it with a proper name – and we often hold this dream of working as hard as you can, to have as much to show for yourself as you can, up as the highest good. I thought for a while that this was simply the human experience. It is not. The Italian people have a term, il bel far niente, that simply means the beauty of doing nothing. While they are hard workers, the goal of their work is il bel far niente – finally creating a space for yourself to do a lovely bunch of absolutely nothing. It is something, for them, to be envied and valued. I know this to be true, and yet this idea, for me, is so inconceivable that I don’t really believe that anyone actually desires that, much less is fulfilled by it. Preposterous. How useless I would feel! I feel that American culture, with all of its priorities on strivings and accomplishments, has certainly created a platform for the growth of this addiction, largely because an addiction of hard work is reinforced and even praised here. If you can work harder and longer and faster than anyone else, that is an enviable and praisable virtue, not to be worried about until you are nearly dead. I feel that my addiction is not only acceptable, but rather is exalted.
But if American culture was the cultivating incubator of my addiction to achievement, my family was certainly its birthplace. We are all products of my great grandfather, Joe, an independent farmer who saw his children as unpaid staff and had the same tolerance for goofy, fun-loving ease as an English Puritan. Idleness was unacceptable. If you murdered someone, his biggest concern would be the efficiency and cost-effectiveness with which you did it. Better to be productive than godly, if the choice ever came down to it. If you break an arm or a leg, find a job that one requires one leg and get to it while you heal up as quickly as possible. My family is full of can-do attitudes and unstoppable natures that have taught the next generation our family anthems of work. You need to contribute, and God forbid you should get uselessly underfoot and slow progress. Productivity is passed along like genes.
My time at school was no different. My parents had no time for my complaints that the only reason I was in trouble at elementary school was because my teacher was mean. My complaints met deaf ears, partially because they knew well that the real reason I was in trouble at school was because I bit everyone – including that teacher – but more importantly, because my task was to learn work hard, even at the simple tasks of children, and fulfill my purpose, and get my jobs done. Not on their watch would I be the child who could not contribute or did not progress.
As soon as I got my driver’s license, my father told me that anyone who was grown up enough to have a license was grown up enough to have a job. For anyone in our house, a license and a job came together. It was, in hindsight, a positive experience, and I am grateful to my family for instilling into each generation an incorrigible work ethic, just maybe not for the extents to which it has come into my own life. Since then, through all of high school and college, working with all my might has simply seemed self-evident.
My family values that which is useful and helpful, both in our surroundings and in each other, and we see hard work as the highest good. This dynamic has instilled in me a fairly constant – and now addictive – drive to prove myself and my own worth. If you don’t contribute and bring something to show for yourself, you may find yourself flattened or forgotten amongst the perpetual forward-movement of people who have no time for the weak or the useless. As I have grown older, I have realized that this dynamic has created in me a real fear of failure and uselessness. I know in my head that everyone needs rest and no one can do everything, but in my heart, I often feel that my failures and incapabilities mean that I am useless, and by extension, unlovable. It has created a dynamic in which it is very difficult for me to believe God when He says that He is the one who finishes and accomplishes things and that I am made valuable by His work. I know that I should be able to rest in the fact that His love is not contingent on what I am able to do or not do, but this is extremely challenging for me, when so many other places in my life have reinforced the message that I do have something to prove. I have been told so often by my family, my community, even the challenging schools I have always attended that ability, hard-work, and success are what is valuable, and so I have a difficult times transitioning into a relationship with a God who is not turned off by my inability or weakness.
I am in continuous prayer that God will help me to really believe that He values me for who I am, not what I am able to accomplish or offer to Him. I feel that this is vital to my counseling, because my biggest fear is that I will consider myself successful when and only when I have been able to “fix” every client. Because achievement is my addiction, I fear that I will be in danger of seeing clients as jobs that are either successful or not, and that I will hinge my own value on that success. I fear that I will want to impose my values – to figure out the best plan of action and to have little patience when the client does not immediately take the steps to make everything right, because I want to “get this job done” instead of “meet and know this person.” I fear that I will want to help the client take charge of his situation the way that I would and will take it as a personal failure when he does not. I know in my head that I can only do my best in working for the Lord and beyond that, I cannot hold myself responsible for a client’s choices. But I fear that my old family values will creep in and tell me that I should have done better, I should have been able to save this person, and that this will lead to the breakdown and burnout of my confidence and drive. I am working to trust God when He tells me that my value and success, as a person and a counselor, are found in Him, to believe that He makes me worthwhile despite inability, and to take one step towards freedom from a self-worshipping addiction.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Praying Smaller Than We Should
I have always tried to journal. I have a few journals (more than I'm proud of) in my room - nice journals, glossy and new, with crisp, creamy pages, and one entry that smacks something of "I'm going to write in your every day, new journal friend!" Well, now I'm making no such promise, and hopefully this will not be the same such failed journaling, just relocated. It really might be... but I hope not. My hope in the success of this (and my confidence in my own writing) is low enough that I'm not telling anyone I'm now a blogger (which is a distasteful thing to say of yourself anyway). This is really just for me. So if it doesn't work, then I guess who cares?
I have a new mentor, Heather. She's marvelous. She's more wise and more insightful than she knows. Her husband says we're the same in ways that neither of us sees - he must be right because she is onto me big time, even when I'm trying to skirt. Anyway, she said something in passing that changed my life with God. I should probably tell her that.. She asked a group of us during RA training - if you could have one spiritual superpower, what would it be? Well, I had oh so many grand plans. Supernatural peace. Supernatural joy. Supernatural kindness. Supernatural wisdom. Oh but how wonderful would it be if I could actually get one of those, like ole Solomon (unfortunate go to man for underused potential... if God had given me all that special wisdom, I'd do WAY better with it than Solomon... I'd be writing stuff full of hard-hitting, major awesomeness, instead of the whiny, angsty stuff you find in Ecclesiastes (right?)) Anyway, that's what she asked and I thought up a whole bunch of noble choices and then silently lamented the fact that those could never be mine. Her next question was this - if you really believe that God listens to you and wants the best for you, why would you think that He wouldn't give that to you if you asked? I was floored. What a revolutionary thing to think! And I had no good answer at all. Why don't I pray for exactly what I want? Big things? Huge things? Supernatural things? We hedge our prayers: instead of praying that God' will supernaturally heal someone, we pray for wisdom for the doctor. Wisdom for the doctor is a wonderful and necessary thing to pray, but why don't we also add in that we wish God would just supernaturally heal this person? He CAN. He doesn't have to, and our faith in Him shouldn't be shattered or shaken if He chose not to, but why not ask? If we really have faith that He will do what's right, then I think we can confidently tell Him exactly what we'd like to see and then be trusting and content with whatever He chooses to do. Personally, I don't ask for the big thing because I'm afraid of what will happen to me and my faith if that isn't what happens. If I pray for a safe thing, like wisdom for the doctor (a thing that will probably be there anyway), then I can reaffirm my own faith and not have to be shaken when the big thing I prayed for wasn't delivered. It's like those fortune tellers who tell you vague things that could apply to anyone so they seem real. I pray for vague, simple things so that pretty much anything that happens could be mentally manipulated into fitting as an answer to prayer. I think I'm trying to affirm and boost my own faith by praying for stuff that isn't too much of a stretch. There is a section in Le Petit Prince where this king of this planet (who really isn't a king at all because he's living there alone) is so desperate to rule that when the little prince comes there, the king orders him to do all the things that he's already doing anyway (like, sometimes yawn and sometimes don't) so that, whatever the little prince does, the king's authority is confirmed. I think that's what I do with faith that God answers prayers. I'm secretly a little insecure about how well that actually works, so I pray for easy things that will probably be there anyway so that I can feel better about prayer working and God really being helpful. Heather changed this for me. Since she said that to me, I have started praying big things, hard things, things that would be REALLY noticeable if they came true and really noticeable if they didn't. This requires a lot more faith. And it requires that you completely trust that, even if God doesn't deliver on the big thing you asked for, He did listen and chose to do a better thing. It's much more dangerous, this big praying. If you're not REALLY sure that He's there and listening and able, this big praying could crush you. It's formidable and I'm just beginning to work with it. I think it's real and big and important though and I think we've let it go in the name of being reasonable. God said to be faithful and confident and consistent in our prayers, never "reasonable."
I have a new mentor, Heather. She's marvelous. She's more wise and more insightful than she knows. Her husband says we're the same in ways that neither of us sees - he must be right because she is onto me big time, even when I'm trying to skirt. Anyway, she said something in passing that changed my life with God. I should probably tell her that.. She asked a group of us during RA training - if you could have one spiritual superpower, what would it be? Well, I had oh so many grand plans. Supernatural peace. Supernatural joy. Supernatural kindness. Supernatural wisdom. Oh but how wonderful would it be if I could actually get one of those, like ole Solomon (unfortunate go to man for underused potential... if God had given me all that special wisdom, I'd do WAY better with it than Solomon... I'd be writing stuff full of hard-hitting, major awesomeness, instead of the whiny, angsty stuff you find in Ecclesiastes (right?)) Anyway, that's what she asked and I thought up a whole bunch of noble choices and then silently lamented the fact that those could never be mine. Her next question was this - if you really believe that God listens to you and wants the best for you, why would you think that He wouldn't give that to you if you asked? I was floored. What a revolutionary thing to think! And I had no good answer at all. Why don't I pray for exactly what I want? Big things? Huge things? Supernatural things? We hedge our prayers: instead of praying that God' will supernaturally heal someone, we pray for wisdom for the doctor. Wisdom for the doctor is a wonderful and necessary thing to pray, but why don't we also add in that we wish God would just supernaturally heal this person? He CAN. He doesn't have to, and our faith in Him shouldn't be shattered or shaken if He chose not to, but why not ask? If we really have faith that He will do what's right, then I think we can confidently tell Him exactly what we'd like to see and then be trusting and content with whatever He chooses to do. Personally, I don't ask for the big thing because I'm afraid of what will happen to me and my faith if that isn't what happens. If I pray for a safe thing, like wisdom for the doctor (a thing that will probably be there anyway), then I can reaffirm my own faith and not have to be shaken when the big thing I prayed for wasn't delivered. It's like those fortune tellers who tell you vague things that could apply to anyone so they seem real. I pray for vague, simple things so that pretty much anything that happens could be mentally manipulated into fitting as an answer to prayer. I think I'm trying to affirm and boost my own faith by praying for stuff that isn't too much of a stretch. There is a section in Le Petit Prince where this king of this planet (who really isn't a king at all because he's living there alone) is so desperate to rule that when the little prince comes there, the king orders him to do all the things that he's already doing anyway (like, sometimes yawn and sometimes don't) so that, whatever the little prince does, the king's authority is confirmed. I think that's what I do with faith that God answers prayers. I'm secretly a little insecure about how well that actually works, so I pray for easy things that will probably be there anyway so that I can feel better about prayer working and God really being helpful. Heather changed this for me. Since she said that to me, I have started praying big things, hard things, things that would be REALLY noticeable if they came true and really noticeable if they didn't. This requires a lot more faith. And it requires that you completely trust that, even if God doesn't deliver on the big thing you asked for, He did listen and chose to do a better thing. It's much more dangerous, this big praying. If you're not REALLY sure that He's there and listening and able, this big praying could crush you. It's formidable and I'm just beginning to work with it. I think it's real and big and important though and I think we've let it go in the name of being reasonable. God said to be faithful and confident and consistent in our prayers, never "reasonable."
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