Rise Up!

If stress is mitigated by finding a life of meaning, where do we discover it? Look inside.

Years ago I had some exposure to a wonderful tool called the Enneagram. Something inside me sang when I studied it. I thought it was comprehensive, complicated and intriguing. I wanted to learn more. I had this hunch that this might make a difference for people in recovery. My friend Jean and I even took a summer road trip to study with some folks who are well-respected in the field. We pursued more education, made some great friends and kept talking and learning and studying.

I got some emails about this suggesting that this was a tool of the devil and I was a bad pastor for talking about it. Some people complained about me talking about it too much - guilty as charged. They were right. The negative feedback stirred my insecurity about what I was learning and why I thought it was valuable. It reminded me of those conversations decades ago when some people through the 12-Steps were terrible and others through the 12-Steps were great but I was not equipped to understand them. This feedback did not bother me twenty years ago, but because I was already flirting with a nervous breakdown, the feedback on the Enneagram stung.

I began asking myself a question every evening as a spiritual discipline: So what? So what if I talk about it more than I should? So what if someone confuses a drawing of the Enneagram with the symbol of a Pentagram? So what?

This was a good growth question for me and it has changed my life.

The answer is this: I am a human being. I have the right to be a goofball. I have the right to get super enthusiastic about a subject that interests me. It is ok if someone does not agree or misunderstands. If they are curious, I have an opportunity to explain, if they are not, I really do not need the hassle of trying to explain to a person whose objective is to criticize. And the biggest "so what" of all...So what if no one else sees its potential, I see it and it is calling to me for further exploration.

Here's the most beautiful thing I discovered. While I lay on the floor in a puddle of defeat, I asked myself - what are you willing to sit up for? (Walking was too hard.) I am willing to sit up to hug my grandchildren and love my children and husband. What are you still interested in? I am still interested in loving others. How will you find the strength to do that if you can barely sit up? I do not know.

But one thing I did know: I could no longer get my cues from outside myself. I needed to dig in and dig deep. Who do I want to be when I grow up? This question was one I was willing, even eager, to explore. One of the topics that I was willing to explore was the Enneagram.

If you are smacked down, what is something you are willing to rise up for? Stay tuned.

We Can All Take the Journey

Constructive criticism in the early years of our community's formation was not limited to our visitors with church backgrounds. The local mutual aid societies were not exactly jumping up for joy to hear that a person who was not in recovery from an addiction was facilitating meetings for people who were or wanted to be and their families. I heard it over and over, "We're watching you." This did not feel like a warm endorsement.

"You know, young lady, everyone knows that it takes one to know one. I know you're trying, but you need to get back to big church and bake some cookies. We've got all the drunks and druggies covered." But what about their families? What about the ones for whom the 12-Steps are not working as a recovery path? Fortunately for me, I did not think that I was able to be all that helpful; I just thought somebody needed to do something to try to address these needs in a way that was supportive of those who were struggling.

Over the years we have formed some lovely relationships with the recovery community. After a little hazing, we eventually were granted entrance into the community with a common goal - encourage the hurting people who are searching for answers to a disease that is cunning, baffling and deadly. We must be aware of the danger of thinking that being of service is the equivalent of finding a life of meaning. Service to others can be a slippery slope. It can be condescending. It can also be toxic.

One of the things I learned, sadly, while I was melting down from the stress of my life, was that sometimes people see me as a caricature, not a human. They have ideas about what a pastor "should" do or not do, "should" preach on or not address, on and on and on. My work is to notice that and respond accordingly. These are people I can love and even serve, but these are not the voices that support my being. That's ok, I've got those bases covered. But it is extremely important for all of us, if we are going to close our stress cycles, to get real about who contributes to stress in our life and who mitigates it.

Joseph Campbell, known as the father of the "Hero's Journey" framework, talked about women and their role in such a journey. He said this, "Women don't need to make the journey. In the whole mythological journey, the woman is there. All she has to do is realize she's the place people are trying to get to." Ugh, sorry Joey, no.

Women are not a place; men are not the only gender that gets to embark on a journey. Stress is not created by people telling us what to think, do, believe and feel. Stress builds when we believe what people tell us without trusting what we know about ourselves.

When is Enough, Enough?

One of the questions I began to ask myself in the face of some pretty harsh conditions was this one: "How much more do I have to do before I've done enough?" This is a great question to ask when we are under a lot of stress, especially if we have wise companions to help us sort out our confusion. "Done enough," might best be understood as thinking about living out our core values and sacrificing for them. This is a good thing; but it can also be quite destructive. The gift of the pandemic and family suffering for me was coming to realize that I was doing the wrong stuff for the right reasons.

If my life and spiritual path and love for scientific data taught me that personal freedom and chocolate cake for breakfast leads to a fulfilling life, then I am quite sure my goals for myself would look different. I would have, perhaps, become a baker who refuses to work according to anyone else's schedule. But this is not what life and the pursuit of faithfulness has taught me. For me, what I happen to believe is that a meaningful life requires that we all find a way to connect to something larger than ourselves. I assume this will be hard and not always fun.

Years ago, I noticed how hard it was for people in recovery or in need of recovery to fit into some of the traditional environments for meaningful connection. I was in a position to participate in changing this dynamic and it felt like a worthy goal to me as a woman who grew up in a family that could have used this kind of community but never found one. I still believe and support this dream.

When I thought my work included helping others find a meaningful life and provide them the tools to accomplish it, I was a failure. And presumptuous too. But once I burned out, I realized that my success was not dependent on convincing others how to do hard things; my truest goal is to be present for people who are having a hard life. My desire is to continue to show up because it is who I am. This shift is seismic. I am not responsible for making it easy for people to be faithful; I am responsible for being a faithful person.

I cannot tell you how much added stress I have heaped on myself over the years because I had this misguided notion that somehow I was supposed to be helpful to people in this particular way. I have quit this life of hoping that if I try hard enough others will try hard too. I do not plan to return.

Jesus Wept. Why?

In John 11, Jesus does an amazing thing: he raises Lazarus from the dead. But not fast enough for Lazarus' sisters Mary and Martha. When Lazarus falls ill, the girls call on their good friend for help. Jesus EVENTUALLY shows up but by that time Lazarus is buried and Jesus is four days late for his funeral. The girls are royally pissed.

They still believe that a miracle is possible but both would have preferred to have simply had him healed, not raised. Interesting isn't it? That Jesus, who will be the next to die a horrible death, chooses this particular time to teach his community that for those who trust him, they can begin their eternal life right now - in real time. He is not promising some future great deal - entrance into heaven - so much as he is opening a door on earth to walk into - a new life, a new way of living.

Jesus of course knows that this is going to happen and he will call Lazarus out of his little hole-in-the-wall tomb to rejoin him on earth. But everyone else is weeping and wailing - focused as they are on preventing death.

Jesus cries too. But according to Barbara Brown Taylor his tears are for a different reason. He realizes that these, his dear friends, still do not understand who he is and what he is offering. He is teaching them that trust in him results in "outliving" death (again, according to Taylor). This is a very different way of seeing.

No one knows, except for Jesus, that the rising of Lazarus will guarantee the death of Jesus. The power brokers in Jerusalem could not allow Jesus to continue to reveal his way of seeing and being in the world. This would break the system, the system that preyed on people's fears and focus on not dying. Surely if people understand that Jesus came to relieve of us our obsession with survival, our lives might become so much more abundant as we choose to cast off those chains and live a life of meaning and purpose.

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life." Now, to quote Mary Oliver, "What are we going to do with our one wild and precious life?"

Jesus’ Certain Way of Seeing

I have a really good friend who changes churches every few years. Me being me, I find this so interesting. "Why do you do that?" I asked.

"I like the feeling of being new." She replies.

"New?" I do not understand.

"I like being the new person, getting the goodies, having people go out of their way to greet me and make me feel at home!" Wow. This would have never occurred to me.

Aren't people so interesting? I never want to be the new girl. I grew up being the new girl-different states, towns, cities and schools. I hated that. My big dream was to grow up and know the names of the people who checked out my groceries. I wanted my youngest child to hear, "Oh, you're a McBean!" (He was not so enamored with this.) I loved it that a substitute teacher at James River High School once taught both me and my husband and she loved to point this out to my kids. (I believe, rightfully so, that she gets a little credit for their existence.) I want to be the girl people know so well that no one is startled if I show up without make-up wearing sweatpants. I want people to take me for granted and ask me to unplug the clogged toilet - but that's just me.

My friend has a different take on life. Her life is more meaningful if she is finding new experiences; I find meaning in the comfort of feeling a part of history - connected, tied down, anchored. Jesus had a particular take on how he defined meaning in life too, one that was at odds with his best friends Mary and Martha. Tomorrow's blog will dive into the day Jesus was their biggest disappointment.