Parenting Part IV: What We Say Matters

     I've written a great deal about parenting lately, but it is, once again, on my mind so I'm taking to my typing once more, in part to process through some of what took place over the winter break.  Today will focus on Middle once more.

    Middle and I really had a wonderful time hiking and talking during the few weeks he was home.  I love that time with him.  I love hearing his thoughts and hearing about his experiences.  But, as I've mentioned before, we have a history of arguing. And while it is so much better than it was, occasionally those arguments still arise and they can be as volatile as ever.  This time there was only one big argument.  And it was not just Middle and I who were involved.  Eldest and Youngest were also present, and the argument ended up being the three of us on one side arguing with Middle.  It was so intense that both Eldest and Youngest finally stomped off in anger.  

    The subject of the argument is immaterial.  However, the next day when Middle and I were walking, he said some things that were harder for me to shake, and which I really should not dismiss easily.  He told me that at one point in our argument, I had said something about him failing to be open-minded.  I didn't remember having said that, but I'm sure it is true that I did.  One of Middle's greatest contradictions or paradoxes is that he is both able to think outside the box in creative and awesome ways, and yet at times he entrenches in specific beliefs that leave no room for other people's experiences or the possibility of things beyond his set determined belief. Do I think he is at times closed-minded?  Absolutely.  Still, I didn't remember actually voicing that, and found myself feeling horrified that I had called him a "name" in a way that was hurtful to him, and that stuck with him.  

    He also told me that when I talk about our relationship, I usually start by mentioning how much we have argued throughout his life, and how much we continue to do so, though he has worked very hard on this. Obviously this, too, is true.  Ironically, I usually mention it to say how far we've come.  As I said above, there was only one argument during the three weeks he was home.  I'm also aware that when I talk to other people about Middle, I often describe him as my "miracle child."  He has blossomed into this absolutely amazing young man who is working on a degree in physics with minors in math and political science.  Despite being a full-time student, he also has a half-time job in the physics department at school and has won awards for his inventions.  He is published in several abstracts and is an active part of the physics research team, even as an undergraduate.  In addition to work and school, he has become quite the athlete: rock climbing, ice climbing, skiing, running, cycling, hiking and more.  He has numerous scholarships because of all he has done and continues to do.  And he chose to go to Norway for a year all on his own to study abroad, something I never had the courage to do.  But more than all this, he is kind, he is incredibly polite, he is compassionate and loving. He listens well, and tries so hard to do what is right by other people. My son who struggled so very much as a boy has grown into a young man I admire deeply.  He is my greatest pride, because he has overcome so many difficult and challenging obstacles.  He made good choices, and he is thriving as a result.

    Despite feeling so very proud of him, I feel I can take very little credit for who he has become. Middle has always brought out the worst in me.  Or to phrase that in a way that doesn't put the blame on him, I have been with him, consistently, a version of myself that I despise.  The worst in me comes out when we argue.  I feel triggered, often, by what he says, and my parenting of him has always been less than what I would want it to be.  I would honestly give just about anything to go back to his childhood and do it differently, though I'm not sure I could do it differently even now.  Our arguments, though much rarer, still trigger me in a way that leads me to do what I know a parent should never do, namely saying hurtful things, such as calling him "closed-minded" despite the fact that he is a person I love more than I can possibly articulate.  

    The point? What we say matters.  I was surprised by what he remembered from the argument and more, how he heard what I say about him when I talk about him to others.  The little comments that he experiences as hurtful probably have a much greater impact than all the "I love you" and "I'm proud of you" statements put together.  They stick longer.  Like the barbed stickers that get stuck on my sweaters after a hike, they stay, while the compliments and expressions of love are more like flower petals that roll off.  Unfortunately, all the apologies in the world cannot dislodge those barbs from our spirits.  It is therefore essential that we work hard to avoid saying hurtful things in the first place.  When we are triggered, stepping out, stepping aside, breathing deeply, or whatever works for each of us to stop the flow of words is essential.  

    I'm so proud of my son.  I'm proud of him for being able to talk to me about what I said that was hurtful, too. It was a reminder to be more aware and to take the needed time to step back before speaking, especially when I'm angry.  As I said above, I wish I could change the words I've said that have been hurtful.  But I can't. All I can do is to use these lessons to work to do better. Love is action.  And my actions of love for my son have to look like working towards greater kindness when I'm angry with him.  Not easy, but essential.  Always.

Assuming the Worst

       When I was in seminary, I supported myself by working as an organist/choir director for a local congregation.  I quit that position my final year of seminary to do my internship and finish school.  The church I had worked for hired another young woman to take my place.  After she had been there about two months she called me, very upset, and said that she believed the pastor's wife (who sang in the choir) did not like her, was "out to get her" and was frankly just plain mean.  This had not been my experience of the pastor's wife at all.  My experience of her was that she was very sweet, very kind and very supportive.  I tried to tell the new music director that I did not believe that the pastor's wife was acting out of malicious intentions, but the new music director did not believe me.  About a week later the pastor's wife called me and said that no matter what she did, this new young woman was misunderstanding and taking offense.  I suggested that perhaps both of them needed to be talking to each other, maybe with a third person present who knew them both, to help navigate the misunderstandings in their relationships.  I offered to help, but they did not take me up on it.  To this day, I don't know why either of them was calling me about it since they didn't really want my help and also weren't willing to change their assumptions about the thinking of the other.  

    On another occasion I received a letter from someone who similarly was accusing someone else of malicious intent after an event had occurred between them that had also ended in misunderstanding.  Once again, I tried to help them to see a bit differently: I did not think the intention of either was malicious or even unkind.  They had simply misunderstood one another.  

    Finally on a third occasion a letter caused a person to be very upset and to assume malicious intent when, if read with different eyes, the person would have instead heard the support and praise in the letter for what that person had been doing and had accomplished.

    I have found myself wondering recently why we assume the worst of the other.  Why, in each of these cases, was malicious intent assumed?  Why did each of these people take offense and feel hurt when, if they had chosen different eyes, a different approach, a different start place, they would not have had to feel the unintended, un-wished-for pain?

    But as I reflected on these three events, I realized that I had been doing the same with a couple folk in my own life.  A couple folk have been making decisions and choosing actions that I have been taking very personally.  I have been assuming anger towards myself or even hatred towards myself in both cases.  And reflecting on these other stories caused me to pause.  I could see that the women in the three stories above were hurt more by their own assumptions and their own decision to hear offense than the actions that led them to feel that way.  It was very, very clear to me in each case that they could have chosen differently.  They could have heard the support.  They could have heard the caring.  They could have seen whatever hurt them as an error on the part of the other, made without meanness or anger.  They could have had compassion on those who committed the errors, seeing that they were shortsighted or unthinking rather than intentionally hurtful.  But it took my reflecting on others' responses to see the error in my own.

    I've mentioned before that I have a friend who, at one point, shared with me that she'd reached out three times over the years to another friend but hadn't ever heard back.  When I asked about the friend, she said "Oh, yeah.  It's time for me to try again!"  She was not hurt at all that the friend had never responded.  It did not occur to her to assume that the silence on the part of the other was malicious or intentional.  My friend's actions showed me the possibility of a different way of responding in the face of "slights" or actions on the part of others that we don't necessarily understand.  

    Why do so many of us respond by assuming the worst?  Maybe we feel it is better to suffer hurt now, to assume hurt now than to be caught in the unexpected realization of intended offense later.  Maybe?

    When I was in high school I had the experience of a person saying something really mean to me about something I had done.  At the time, I assumed, in part because it was so attacking, they were kidding.  I reacted, therefore, by laughing at the truth in the comment and joking about how I would probably mess up again in the future.  Their response?  Surprise at first, but then they laughed too; and the whole interaction moved from something that was potentially a hurtful fight into a funny, companionable laugh.  It was their surprise that showed me that they had not intended it to be funny, but had intended for it to hurt.  None the less, because I had first assumed, wrongly, only good intent, the situation actually ended better for both of us than it should have, than it would have, and certainly than it could have.  My positive assumptions in that moment actually made things better.

    My take away as I reflect on all of these events is that I need to work much more intentionally towards assuming the best of the other.  I need to do it for them, for the situation, and mostly for myself.  Yes, there is the possibility that I will be caught by surprise and find that the intention really was malicious, that the action really was taken out of anger, hate or spite.  But my guess is the occasional discovery of true unkindness will be less painful, overall, than the many times I have mistakenly assumed mean intent.  This is my challenge for today, and probably for the many years to come.  Changing my mind-set around this will not be easy.  But I have to believe it will be worth the effort.  And again, I think the one who will benefit the most will be myself.  I see the constant joy my friend carries who does not assume the negative.  It is something I strive for in myself as well.

Challenges of unkindness

        Last week we received two difficult phone calls at the church.  The first one was from someone who said, "I don't go to church.  I never go to church.  I don't believe in all that stuff.  But I'm so glad you took down that flag because churches should not support people like that."  The call came in early.  Early enough that I was the one who answered the phone (long before our secretary arrived), and as he spoke, I could feel the anger and "fight" mechanism within me rising.  I was just about to launch into a lecture about the primary call of being a Christian is to love everybody, even those we might not like, which would have been followed by a speech about how Christians are called to work on changing ourselves and helping others, not trying to judge others while helping ourselves; but I started by saying the simple truth of, "We didn't take down the flag: a storm took it down."  His response was to hang up, so I never was able to launch my angry sermon...
        Then later that morning, my secretary received a phone call from someone in the community who was upset because we are having a swing band come and play for our concert series this Saturday evening and he believes dancing to be a sin.  Our secretary came back to talk to me about it and as I was whipping out my list of all the scriptures that encourage, and even mandate dancing as an expression of praise (mostly psalms, but there are others, too), he, too, hung up.
       Then this week someone sent us in the mail all kinds of "literature" to tell us why we are all going to hell for loving people who don't look like we do: might be different color, different gender, different faith, different orientation, different socio-economic class.  Apparently loving those who differ from us is a bad thing.  Hm.  Apparently the gospels aren't part of her regular reading regimen.
        There are so many different opinions in this world, different view points, different understandings of what it is to be people of faith.  And yet, every time someone takes the time out of their day to be judgmental, attacking, rude to someone else, I find myself more than a little flabbergasted, confused and, frankly, discouraged by what humans are: what we remain, what we have become, what we seem, inevitably, to be.  There are so many real injustices in the world: people being killed by other people, people being abused and mistreated and dismissed and blocked from full living by other people.  Why are there still people who waste their time being angry about things that don't hurt anyone else?  I wonder why, if they have all this energy to fight and to instruct, they don't choose to fight poverty, or war, or racism and why they don't use their desire to instruct to teach about loving, caring, and being kind to one another.  Why is it, with the limited time we have on earth, they want to yell at people, try to change people by bashing them over the head, upset other people about making choices like enjoying the life we've been given through dancing; when they could instead choose to make each day brighter and better and more joyous for someone else?
         I know we are supposed to meet unkindness with kindness, to meet hate with love, to meet violence with loving care.  Or as Jesus said it, "To turn the other cheek".  I know this.  I work on this.  But it is exhausting sometimes to have to swallow or at least just accept and try to allow the anger, hatred and attacks of others to just roll off our backs.  It wears me out.
        Still, when I am able to center, my first feeling about these folk is great sadness for them.  What must have led a person to believe that anger is the only way to make positive changes?  What leads a person to a belief in a hateful, judgmental god?  What kind of deep trauma makes it more important to someone to judge others than to help them, to attack people who are happy and doing what they love instead of going after problems that truly injure other lives?  What profound fear makes a person anxious about those they don't know or understand, rather than open to learning from them, growing with them and loving them?
        And then, from that place of centeredness and compassion, I find myself moving into a different place as well: one not of judging or condemning those who would judge us, but instead into a place of wanting to offer love and support and healing to those who are so broken that they cannot find a way to begin to "love your enemies" as Jesus commands us to do again and again.  It is hard to offer that care when those who would attack hang up or send mail anonymously.  But I hope that when I am in that situation in person, I will be called to re-center and to choose love and help instead of judgment and anger.
       In the midst of my angst about all of this, I found a poem called "Lo and Behold" by Ann Weems, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press,2010. p 90)  part of which I want to share here:
         … 

In the land of Lo and Behold,

Where Jesus healed the sick,

Even on the sabbath,

And ate with tax collectors

And befriended prostitutes

And outcasts and children,

And cleansed lepers and stilled a storm,

And he told the people to love one another

As much as they wanted to be loved,

And not to judge each other, and not to worry,

And not to store up treasures on earth,

But to give from the heart,

And Jesus told them: Feed my sheep,

And he was grieved at their hardness of heart

       My prayer is not just for those who send and call these messages of anger, but for all of us.  Let our hearts, too, be opened even when we interact with folk such as those who are angry and attacking.  For it is only our open hearts that can have any chance of opening the hearts of others.

More on learning to let go

            A long ago time ago in the hills of Quong Zu province, there once lived a revered old monk who was a master of Zen Buddhism. One day he decided that he would make a pilgrimage to a neighboring monastery, and not wishing to make the journey alone, he decided to take along one of his young disciples. They started their journey early the next morning and in the true spirit of Zen each walked along engrossed in his own thoughts, and so they journeyed for many hours without speaking. By mid-day they had come to a small stream and it was here that they noticed a young girl dressed in fine silk, obviously contemplating how best to cross the stream without getting her precious clothes wet. Immediately the old monk walked over to the young girl and in one smooth motion, he picked her up in his arms and walked out into the stream, then after carrying her safely to the other side, he gently put her down and walked on without having said a single word. His disciple having watched this whole incident was in a state of complete shock, for he knew it was strictly forbidden for a monk to come into physical contact with another person. Quickly, he too crossed the stream, and then ran to catch up with his master, and together they once again walked on in silence. Finally at sunset they made camp and settled down for the night. The next morning after prayers and meditation the old monk and his disciple once again continued their journey in silence. After many miles, and no longer able to contain his anxiety, the disciple called to his master and said, "Master may I ask you a question?"
         "Of course, you may" his master replied, "knowledge comes to those who seek it."
         Respectfully his disciple said, "yesterday I saw you break one of our most sacred vows when you picked up that young girl and carried her across the stream. How could you do such a thing?"
        His master replied, "That is true, and you are right it is something I should not have done, but you are as guilty as I am."
        "How so?" asked his disciple, "For it was you who carried her across the stream, not I."
         "I know," replied his master, "but on the other side I put her down. You, however, are obviously still carrying her."

       I shared that story in my sermon on Sunday.  I share it again because it has been a story that I have been carrying in my heart and mind for the last few weeks as I've been struggling to put some things down.  As I said on Sunday, the feelings we carry are calling us to pay attention.  We are called to walk through, not around, those feelings, memories, and experiences to work them through.  But, as I also said on Sunday, there are other things that haunt us that we cannot do anything about.  Those things usually involve the behaviors of other people.  There still may be some inner work that needs to be done around those experiences.  But when we carry anger, hate, thoughts of revenge, or even just pain because of memories of things other people have done to us, we are continuing to carry a burden that is only injuring us with its weight and pain.
      I write this from a place of struggling to let certain things go.  But I have found myself reflecting on this story often as I have strived to put down those people I am carrying whose weight is simply hurting me.  I think about the man we met in Canada who was simply attacking and unkind.  I am certain that was just his MO.  He has probably never given us one thought since he was hurtful towards us.  But I have continued to carry him, as I've found myself remembering, trying to imagine how I might have better answered his comments, how I might have stood up for myself, how I might have been stronger in the face of his attack.  He was mean for a minute.  But I have continued to carry him for weeks, and in doing so, I have allowed him to do so much more damage. I have given him power over me, a power to harm, that goes beyond even what the meanest person might intend.
      Likewise I often have a hard time putting down anonymous, unkind comments on social media.  Anonymity allows the writers to be much more mean-spirited than they would be if there was any accountability. But these are just people saying stuff because they can. I should not carry them farther than that.  Yet I do. I have a hard time putting them down, as it were, on the other side of reading through them.
     I wonder why these things affect me so much.  My family went through a huge public humiliation and many have told me that since I came through that storm of judgment and condemnation, I must now be stronger and more able to handle judgments and criticism.  But in fact the opposite is true.  These comments affect me much more than they used to.  For me, my reaction to their comments feels more like what Yann Martel wrote in The Life of Pi, "When you’ve suffered a great deal in life, each additional pain is both unbearable and trifling." (2001.  Knopf Canada: Canada).
     I have the awareness that the anonymous words, these unkindnesses are trifling.  I have the objectivity to understand that any comment reflects so much more on the speaker/writer than on the recipient of those comments.  I am aware of how little and unimportant these attacks on others are. I can have pity and sometimes compassion for those who waste their time in anger at strangers, in spite towards people they don't know and will never understand.  And at the same time, those unkindnesses are unbearable to me. They mark for me another indication that there is a subgroup of humanity that is cruel and thoughtless, that many are so filled with anger that kindnesses do not pass their lips, or infuse their beings. It hurts my heart to know this.  At a personal level, I feel others' barbs as physical thorns poking into an already bruised and sore skin. And in that way, too, it feels unbearable.
     After writing the above, I found an article that discussed a gene that some people have that simply makes them more sensitive to pain, both emotionally and physically.  It was helpful to read that some people are just built in a way that makes us much more sensitive, but it also caused me to think about others I know who also struggle to let go of pain.  One of my children is extremely sensitive in this way.  But I like this about them.  I value this in others, that caring and awareness and sensitivity.  It doesn't feel good to my child.  But I love that their heart is open, compassionate, and kind.
    Of course, there are several lessons here. The first, obviously, is that it is becoming clearer to me that social media is not a good place for me to spend time. Publishing things in places where strangers can make nasty comments is not healthy for the person that I am. I wish I were someone who was not affected in this way, but I am.  I am a person who is injured by these things, so choosing intentionally to not put myself in those situations where harm is the norm rather than the exception is a wise choice.
   Second, I continue to work on the images of putting down the girl on the far side of the river, of no longer needing to carry a burden that is not mine.
   Third, it calls me to continue to be more careful and thoughtful with my own words, to seek to avoid being another barb or thorn for someone else.
    Fourth, the article I read about sensitive people emphasized (again) that aerobic exercise is a helpful way to boost one's ability to cope with pain. (Interestingly the author also said that laughter and chocolate are helpful.  Imagine that?)
    And finally, it reminds me again that forgiveness is for ourselves: we are called to wipe clean the slates of others so that we are not carrying them in our hearts.  I strive to forgive myself in this as well.  Not easy, and still, what we are called to do.

Commitment to Kindness?

        I feel that my commitment to my personal Lenten discipline of looking for and acting with kindness has been sorely tested as of late.  This last week has included one event after another of interacting in unpleasant ways with other people.
         A couple of examples: I was walking through the grocery store parking lot and one of those monster trucks with the 6 foot radius wheels was pulling out of a parking spot.  I was far behind him, as far as I could go actually, walking against the parked cars on the other side, but of course, he could not see me because of the huge height of his cab.  I wasn't concerned about being hit: if he hit me, he would have hit the cars I was walking next to as well.  None the less, when he started to pull forward he did see me, after which he blocked me in at my car and scolded me for walking behind his truck.  I'll admit, all kinds of unkind, angry responses were running through my head, everything from, "Well, maybe you should rethink having a truck with such huge tires that you can't see well enough to drive!" to "It isn't other people's responsibility to help you see.  If you can't see well enough to pull out of a spot, don't park there in the first place."  Instead, at the point at which he said, "because if I were to hit you I'd be libel!" I responded with the really stupid, not kind, non-nonsensical response of, "well, if you hit me, I'd be dead and wouldn't really care anymore if you were libel."  I wasn't able to respond with kindness. I couldn't think of a kind thing to say at the time that wasn't angry or snippy.  I didn't like being scolded by a stranger, I felt I was in the right, I was already fighting some inner prejudice I admit I have against people who drive trucks with unnecessarily huge wheels, and I just wanted to be out of the situation. So I responded with a stupid, snippy response and moved on.
       Second example: I came home after a long, hard day at work today dealing with other conflicted issues and was exhausted.  I haven't been sleeping well because I've been worried about a large number of things lately, both personal and professional.  So I was also tired from lack of sleep.  I realized I could lie down for about 15 minutes before making dinner, taking the kids to dance and heading back to church for two meetings this evening, and so I made my way to the couch.  I had just fallen asleep when the door bell rang.  It didn't ring just once, but three times and then the loud knocking began.  I hauled myself out of my sleep and headed towards the door.  "Hi, I'm from x company and we are selling y.  I hope I am not disturbing you..."  Again, an opportunity to practice being kind.  After all, that's my Lenten discipline, right?  But I couldn't do it.  "Actually, you are disturbing me.  I was trying to take a nap, I need to help my kids with their homework, and I do not have time for this conversation.  I'm sorry, but goodbye."  And I shut the door.  Of course, going back to sleep was out of the question. Instead, I stared into space for the last ten minutes because I couldn't get out of my head that it was another opportunity for kindness and another fail on my part. 
       I am gifted, every day, with opportunities to put into practice what I claim I want to do, to try to be the person I want to be.  I see these situations as the chances that they are.  But these interactions (as well as others I've had this week) have shown me that it is not enough to just say I want to do something. I have to prepare. I have to actually think through what might be kind responses in difficult situations, what might be ways to diffuse an angry encounter. "I hear you are upset. I am sorry if I have contributed to upsetting you,"  "Thank you for that advice. I will think about that. I hope the rest of your day goes better."  "I realize you have the difficult job of being a door to door sales-person, so to save you time in the future, I'm telling you now that we are not going to buy from anyone coming to our door. But I wish you the best of luck."
          I realize I won't be able to prepare for every potential situation because I don't know what they all are.  But I can prepare somewhat by thinking of positive ways to interact with difficult people, by reflecting back on situations that I have not handled well, and I can strive to try to adapt thought -through responses when those situations arise.
        I've used this story in sermons before: One day a woman hopped in a taxi and they took off for the airport. They were driving in the right lane when suddenly a red car jumped out of a parking space right in front of them. The taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at them. The taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. The passenger asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' The taxi driver said that many people were like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment.  As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. "Don't take it personally," he said.  "Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. Do not let garbage trucks take over your day."
       It's a great story.  But again, I think it takes more than simply a commitment to behaving with kindness and grace.  It also requires practice.  So I will continue to look for the good around me.  And I will also look for the opportunities to practice kindness in the face of anger, rudeness, and other "garbage."  I saw the look of disappointment on the face of the salesman today.  And while it was too bad my nap was disturbed, I also don't ever want to be the one responsible for making someone else's day worse.  That's a choice I can try to make, each time there is an opportunity to choose between reactive anger or kindness.

Winning Points by Being Mean?

Exodus 32:1-14

Matthew 22:1-14

Matthew 21:33-46

As I read through today’s passages, I was struck with the idea that sometimes people think that in being mean to other people or catty behind their backs, or expressing hate towards some people, somehow we end up more united with others.  We can “bond” over our criticisms of others, bond over our hatred of others, connect with some people by making someone else a common enemy.  I look at this passage from Exodus in which the people have been led out of slavery by Moses, have come to him for food and water; and God, through Moses, has provided.  Moses has done an amazing work through this people and as we read the scriptures we recognize the great leadership of Moses.  And yet, when Moses goes off for a time to pray, to recuperate, to reconnect with God, the people take the opportunity of his absence to bond with one another AGAINST him.  They wanted him to be everything for them, they wanted him to be perfect, to have infinite energy for them, to not need time away.  They wanted him to lead them into the promised land, into comfort, maybe even into a kind of luxury.  He can’t do that first because he is a human being and second because it isn’t God’s time yet, there are other things that must happen before they are led into the promised land.  But for all these reasons, for his failure to give them everything they want and because he has taken some time away from them to pray, to reground himself in God, the people feel he has failed them and they quickly turn against him.  “As for this man, Moses, we don’t have a CLUE what has happened to him. …so make for us gods who can lead us, instead.”  And his brother, Aaron, did NOT defend him, but joined them, doing what they asked him to do, my guess is so that he could remain a part of them, too, bonded together AGAINST his own brother, Moses.  I also think he was afraid of their angry wagging tongues and felt that if he stood up for his brother, he would just become the next victim of their attacks and critiques.

It was not only that they bonded with each other in their criticism and rejection of Moses, they also somehow believed that in that criticism and rejection of someone else, they would get more, that this would enable them to walk away with something better than what they would have had had they stuck with Moses and had they continued to follow in God’s way.  They thought that instead of this human person, Moses, they could get gods who would then lead them, made from the rings and gold objects that the people had.  Gods had to be better than Moses, right?  Moses had led them out of slavery.  Moses had made sure they had food and water.  But it wasn’t enough.  They wanted more.  They wanted more.  And it was easy to vilify Moses, to critique him, thinking that this would then get them that more.

Then we come to the gospel passages.  And in the first one we read of people invited to a wedding party who felt they had better things to do.  But again, they didn’t simply say “No, we don’t want to come”.  They joined together, grabbed the servants who had invited them to the party, abused them and killed them.  And we have to ask, what were they thinking?  Did they really believe there would be no consequence for this behavior?  That the king who invited them wouldn’t get angry and seek retribution for their killing of his servants?  But again, they seemed to believe that they would be closer to each other, more bonded with one another and maybe even somehow “get more” as they developed a common enemy.

In the second gospel passage I read for today it is even clearer that this is what is going on.  When the servants come to collect what is owed to the landowner, they kill the servants.  So the landowner sends more servants whom they also kill.  When the son comes they say to each other, “This is the heir.  Come on, let’s kill him and we’ll have his inheritance.”  What kind of thinking is that?  That somehow if you kill all those the landowner cares about that he will then leave to you everything he has?!  From a distance, from our perspective, we can see that this is absolutely crazy thinking.  We can see clearly that those with that kind of thinking won’t survive long enough to inherit anything, but will be utterly destroyed by the landowner.  We see this, from the safe distance of reading about it in a story.  But what about in our own lives?

In our own personal lives, don’t we put down, criticize, condemn and sometimes even seek to destroy, at least emotionally, some people to other people?  And as we join together in criticizing other people, don’t we somehow feel more connected to those we are talking to?  Don’t we somehow believe that if we share a common critique against other people that we will be closer and more united with those with whom we share that criticism?  Don’t we sometimes even create friendships, build relationships over common complaints against someone else?  Sometimes I think we even believe that we will be more fully or thoroughly respected by those with whom we are bonding when we have a common critique of someone else, a common judgment, and especially a common enemy. 

Some time ago I was over at the house of friends when the husband in the couple received a text from a mutual friend.  His response in seeing the text was, “Oh no.  Not again!  These people are always texting us.  I’m just going to ignore it.”  His wife joined in on the conversation and critique, “Yeah.  We ignore his texts a lot but they don’t seem to get the message!”  They looked to me for my support, clearly hoping I would join in on this conversation, to agree with them for their decision to put down and fail to respond to this friend. To agree with them about how annoying our mutual friend was.  And again, perhaps the thinking was that we would then have this “bond” over being annoyed by this other friend.  But I found myself instead very upset by their comments.  I found myself wondering, and asking, “when you don’t respond right away to my texts then is it because you are feeling the same way towards me?  Annoyed?  Bothered? Are the two of you having this same conversation about me behind my back when I text?”  Of course they were quick to tell me, “Oh no!  That’s different!” But that conversation rang in my head from then on when a text I sent was not answered.

I have another friend who, when I am with her, is often criticizing her best friend, complaining about her best friend.  I understand that my friend may need to work out some of her annoyance or anxiety at times with her best friend.  But again, whenever she does this, whenever she criticizes her best friend to me, I cannot help but wonder what she is saying about me, who is not nearly as close to her, when I am not around. 

How many of you receive forwarded emails that express hatred towards groups of people? Christians are called to be “known by their love” but sometimes even the most well-meaning people seem to get caught up in hating behavior and my sense is that this is easier to do when they feel bonded with others in a crusade, even when it is a crusade of judgment or hatred.  Jesus is very clear that we are not supposed to judge and that instead we are called to love even our enemies.  Jesus is very clear that we will be known by how compassionate and caring and merciful and grace-filled and loving we are.  And the hate behavior of people who say they are Christian, especially when their hating is done in the name of God, tends to do absolutely the opposite of what they intend.  It does not win friends or convince people of any quality or ability to self-reflect.  It loses them respect, again, especially from those who are self-reflective, who are caring, who are seeing people.  Unfortunately, it also encourages people to lose respect for Christianity on the whole.  They are not spreading the Good News with judging condemning behavior.  They are not demonstrating a belief in a loving God who embraces the outcast, heals the wounded, and calls us to do the same.  They are turning people against Jesus, while missing Jesus’ message of love completely.

Not that any of us are completely beyond this behavior of trying to bond with one another by critiquing others.  While on a retreat one weekend, I kept receiving phone calls and texts from someone who knew I was on retreat and yet continued to demand my attention, and I found myself quick to criticize that person to those I was with.  I received an email right before writing this sermon, containing an article attacking someone that I quickly answered with “yep, I agree” without pausing to consider what I was doing.  We do this. Judging others gives us something to talk about.  Condemning others gives us something to complain about.  Being critical gives us a chance to “vent”. Criticizing others helps us to think through what we believe about certain issues or behaviors so that we can act differently, and behave according to our true principles and values.

But behaving that way is also, ultimately, against what God would have us do.  When we are judging others, we are failing to remember that Jesus said it was the one without sin who is called to cast the stones and that is not one of us.  We are failing to remember that it is God’s own children we are condemning since we are all God’s children.  When we are bonding in our animosity towards anyone else, we are failing to love our enemies.  And I think we have to ask how God must feel about that. 

The people I trust the most and the people I respect the most tend to be those who choose not to engage in this kind of behavior.  One of the things I love the absolute most about David is first that he is not a catty person, and that second, he calls me on it when I am.  And I respect this in him for so many reasons.  First, seeing that he refuses to gossip negatively about others, I am less concerned about him doing the same to me.  Second, all those who act in loving ways towards all people are so much easier to respect as people truly doing their best to follow in Jesus’ way. 

I want to clarify something here.  I’m not saying that we agree with everybody or everything.  There is room for disagreement, and when we see injustice, we are called to confront it.  Always.  But this is not the same as judging people, or talking maliciously about people.  It is not the same as gossip.  Denouncing unkind, unjust and unloving behavior is also not the same as judging people and condemning people.  We are called to stand up against unjust and unloving behavior.  We are not called to call people names, to attack individuals or to be hateful towards anyone, no matter how much we disagree with them.

But the Good News in this remains that when we fail to be faithful, when we do choose to be critical, God still is with us, God still provides.  In the Exodus story, while God was angry that the people had forsaken both Moses and God, God did not loose wrath on the people but still loved them, still provided for them, still cared for them.  The Good News also is that this God who loves us is ultimately the judge as well as the one who offers us grace.  It isn’t up to us to judge.  It isn’t up to us to critique.  But when we fail to remember that, even then, the choice of who deserves critique is up to God and not us.  We are freed.  Freed to love.  Freed to live in God’s grace.  Freed to be known as Christians, by the love that God calls us to exhibit.  Thanks be to God.

Kindness to those we love?

       Why is it that it is often harder to be kind to those we love than it is to be kind to strangers, and even people we don't like?  I've been reflecting on two couples that I knew a long time ago and their public interactions with one another.  With both couples, the husband constantly shut down the wife in public.  It wasn't just that these men disagreed with their spouses.  It's okay to have different opinions even from those closest to us, and to express those.  But in both of these cases the husbands seemed to be embarrassed by the behavior of their spouses and suppressed them with sharp words, with barbed insults, and with belittling behavior.  It was painful to watch.  And while these men probably were embarrassed by the words or theatrics or expressions of their spouse, they frankly should have been much more embarrassed by their own behavior.  While none of us present for these interactions were upset, bothered or offended by what was said by the wives at the time, all of us were made uncomfortable and upset by their husbands' attempts to shut them up.  I remember after one episode, one of those watching this interaction whispering to me, "Why on earth does she STAY with him?!"  To which my only reply was, "It's beyond my understanding."
        In the past I've assumed that the cause of this was a lack of boundaries.  Somehow the husbands saw their wives as an extension of themselves.  If their wives said something they didn't like, they felt it somehow reflected badly on themselves so they felt the need to squash it and make it clear to everyone present that they just didn't agree or didn't think it should be expressed that way, or didn't like what was being said or done. I understand this.  We see this with parents and children too.  If a young daughter or son is behaving badly, we can feel embarrassed because we feel it is a reflection on us.  When that same child is a teenager, the tables often turn and they become embarrassed by our behavior as the adults.  In those situations it is hard to separate ourselves from the loved one.  We feel their behavior is a commentary on us as well and we can become embarrassed by it.
       Of course from an outsider's perspective, it is easy to see that the embarrassment is misplaced. The best parents may still have a child who acts out, a child with issues, a child with their own minds. The best kids may still have parents who are socially awkward or who do silly or outrageous things. Spouses who love each other may still disagree about big issues and may express themselves in very different ways.  Most of us are able to separate people and we don't see Jane as a reflection of Joe, or Davis as a commentary on Suzie.
        But then I started to think about this in the bigger context of why people are unkind to others. Sometimes people carry a lot of anger and it comes out in unkindness to others.  Sometimes people are afraid and they express that by putting up walls of anger or meanness between themselves and others.  Sometimes people feel insecure and pushing others down is a way they try to raise themselves up (doesn't work, but doesn't seem to stop people from trying). Sometimes people are tired and forget their filters.  Sometimes people are carrying too much and dumping on others feels like letting off some of their stress.
       Why are we more unkind to those we love than to strangers?  Maybe it's because we recognize that those we love will most likely put up with our behavior, will still stay with us, will continue to love us.  We don't know how the stranger or those more distant from us will react.  It may just feel safer to express our anger, our fear, our insecurity or our discomfort to those who understand us and whose responses to our behavior are much more predictable.
       But whatever the reasons may be, here are my thoughts about unkindness this day:
       1.  Being unkind to others spreads discord rather than peace. It also doesn't actually make us feel better.  It doesn't serve any purpose that is useful or good or productive.
       2.  No matter what we may be feeling about something the other did or said or expressed, being unkind does not encourage others to change for the better. We don't change other people for the better through being mean. If we don't like something, the direct, honest, but kind approach is much more likely to result in positive change or at least in deeper understanding on our part.
       3.  Most of the time the people who need to change when we are inclined towards criticizing others is ourselves.  We need to change our attitude and remember the other is not an extension or reflection on us.  We need to confront our insecurities and remember that another person succeeding does not mean we are failing and the things that anger us say more about who we are than about the other. We need to face our fears and recognize that being unkind will not stop the things we are most afraid of.  Perhaps speaking our minds clearly, kindly and directly will.  But acting out of anger or rage never will prevent the things we fear the most.
        4.  When we are unkind, it only reflects badly on us, not the person we are attacking.  I'm not saying here that we should be controlled by how others see us.  What I am saying is that our responses to feeling embarrassed often do much more damage that whatever it was that embarrassed us in the first place.  Therefore, choosing compassion and kindness, no matter what the other did, always makes more sense.
       5.  It is hard work to look at ourselves to figure out why we are behaving the way we are.  But it is a worth while exercise if we want to contribute to the world in a positive way.  If we don't know ourselves, we are more likely to act out of unconscious feelings rather than choosing how we respond and what impact we will have on our world.
       6.  It really doesn't take that much energy to respond honestly and with kindness, rather than rashly and out of anger.

There is so much more that could be said here.  But I will limit it to this for now.
Be kind, to those you don't know, to acquaintances, and to loved ones. We will never know our impact on the world, not really.  But chances are pretty good that when you choose kindness, your impact has a much better chance of making a positive difference in the world. A small effort may make a huge change. It's worth the try.

Sermon #2 at CVPC - Evil Talk

Ephesians 4:25-5:2

Matthew 18:15-18

               Today’s passage from Ephesians is rich with advice.  “Be angry without sinning.”  “Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.”  “Don’t provide an opportunity for evil.”  “Thieves stop stealing.”  “Don’t let foul words come out of your mouth.”  “Put aside all bitterness.”  “ Don’t lose your temper.”   And then we hear the Matthew passage.  And it tells us to be honest and to talk to those who are hurting us. All of these are wonderfully true and important when we consider how to talk to one another.  But it can also be hard to muddle through.  Still, they all basically come down to the same thing.  Be careful and intentional with your words.

But how do we do this?   Today’s passage from Matthew instructs us to talk to one another.  To “confront” one another, to use a word that most of us find unpleasant and difficult to deal with.  It instructs us how to do this…in a direct, but loving way.  We are to go and talk to one another first one on one in private, and then if we are not heard, to take a witness with us and try again.  This passage is important for many reasons.

First, it tells us what we are not to do when someone hurts us.  We are not to go talking about it to other people.  This is undoubtedly the hardest part of this.  We are to speak to the person him or her-self about what has upset us.  Also, we don’t ask someone to do our talking for us.  If we are upset about something, we are to talk to the person directly and if they don’t listen, we bring in a second person to listen while we again talk to the person directly.   The other person we bring is simply a witness, not an active participant in the conversation.

Neither of these things are easy.  It is much easier to “process” with someone else, or to just decide not to talk to a person about a problem. I was talking with another pastor friend this week about her experiences with her church.  She was telling me about a parishioner who is a real challenge.  This is someone who has no sense of personal boundaries, and who steps into personal space on a regular basis.  This person is loud and aggressive in their language.  This is a person who is offensive.  Yet no one has had the courage to gently say to this person, “when you step that close to me, I feel uncomfortable.”  Or “when you use that tone of voice with me, I feel threatened.”  Instead everyone just collectively, but behind this person’s back, says, “well, that’s just the way Roger is.”  “That’s just Roger.”  “He can’t help the way he behaves.”  “We are all just tolerant and accepting of Roger.”  This is problematic because it has alienated a few people in the church who don’t want to deal with Roger.  It has also made it hard on visitors since they don’t “just know the way Roger is.”  By failing to confront Roger, they are making a choice about excluding other people from their circle, people who might have a great deal to contribute if they were made to feel important and valued enough to stop Roger’s hurtful people towards them.

But I found myself, as I listened to my friend, thinking more about how I would feel if I were Roger and I found out that everyone was speaking about me in this way.  I would feel mortified and humiliated to learn that people were saying, “Well, that’s just Barbara” rather than talking to me directly about something crazy or goofy or offensive that I was doing.  And I would guess that most of us feel this way.  Wouldn’t you rather know that someone was upset with you by hearing about it directly from the person?  Wouldn’t you rather that people not assume that you can’t learn or that you don’t really want to know when you are making a mistake?  Wouldn’t you rather that people think that you are open to learning and are open to hearing the truth? 

When we think about confrontation, we think about how uncomfortable it is for the person confronting, or how hurtful it is to the person who is being confronted.  We don’t as often think about how hurtful it is when we walk around with egg on our face and everyone is afraid to tell us.  Or how hurtful it is to hear about something we’ve done wrong third hand, knowing that others know about our mistakes before we are told. 

As hard as it is to hear this, the truth is that it is a gift to our neighbors, our brothers and sisters in faith when we speak the truth to them in love.  It is a gift to be able to grow from our mistakes and learn from them.  It is a gift to be told in a loving and gentle way when we have hurt someone.  It allows us to grow.  It gives an opportunity for a more real and honest relationship between people. 

To love someone is to relentlessly seek the well-being of the other.  It is to want and work towards the highest spiritual growth for the other.  We cannot do that by failing to be honest with the other.  We cannot do that by gossiping about the other.  We cannot do that by hiding the truth from the other. 

It is also important to not speak for other people.  We need to be careful that we only and always speak for ourselves.   “People are saying” is not a good way to express one’s opinion about something.  It is hurtful because it leaves no room for response, and it is usually not accurate.  People say things, but if they really wanted them to be known they would speak to you directly.  Own your own feelings and speak for yourself and only yourself.  Also, when you use the phrase, “people are saying” you are basically admitting that you are participating in gossip, which again is simply hurtful and tends to  grow problems rather than shrinking them.    

But while we are called to speak the truth to one another, I also think HOW we do that is as important as what we say.  And a helpful way to think about how we talk to each other is to use the acronym “THINK” as in “Think” before you Speak.

Is it True

Is it Helpful

Is it Inspiring

Is it Necessary

     and

 Is it Kind.

When we do speak the truth, sometimes we can get stuck at the “it is true” and forget to consider these other things.  For example, will this be a helpful thing to say?  Going up to someone, for example, and telling them they have an ugly nose, while it may be true, is not going to be helpful since there is nothing they can do about that.  Global statements, “you handled that really poorly”, are not helpful.  What is helpful are specifics, and if they can be phrased in positive ways, that is especially helpful.  “It might be helpful for you next time to not call the person an idiot so that they are better able to really hear what you are wanting to say.”

Second, Is it a necessary thing to say?  It is not necessary to say every thought that goes through our heads.  But sometimes I think we get so stuck on the “is it true” that we forget that we don’t have to say things that aren’t kind, helpful, and necessary.  

Third, can we find a kind way to speak our truth?  One way to do that is to use the formula, I feel x when you do y because z.  Again, we don’t have to attack others to communicate what we want to say.

And finally, is it inspiring.  I left that for last because I think it is the hardest one.  What that we say is truly inspiring?  What changes people?  What motivates people?  What moves people?  Those are good things to say.

The bottom line is that it is not enough to speak the truth.  We have to speak the truth IN LOVE.  And that is not always easy.  When we become angry, when we feel righteous, when we feel defensive, when we are hurt and hurting, it is way too easy to lash out.  I saw a post on Facebook this week that said, “A tongue has no bones, but it is strong enough to break a heart.”  I hope for each of us that the legacy of our words is not breaking hearts, but boosting one another in love. 

Today’s scriptures give us wisdom about communicating with one another in love.  We don’t learn all of these things in an hour or a day, but they are words to grow into.  Amen.

Instagram, Hate pages, Teen Suicide and Lord of the Flies

The rate of teen suicide is on the increase.  And lately there have been some news articles that trace some of these more recent suicides back to "hate pages" that kids write (and which these other kids then read) using instagram and other media tools that harass, humiliate, belittle and in some cases actually tell the kids they should die, that they'd be better off dead, that others want them dead.  There is a level of anonymity, and a total lack of accountability in these that allows this to occur in such a way that it is reminiscent for me of "Lord of the Flies".  In that story, the fact that there would be no accountability for their actions led a group of normal kids, led by a bully, to almost kill another in a horrible, brutal way.  This feels similar to me.  Children are being destroyed emotionally and the anonymity of some areas of the internet is allowing this to occur in incredibly brutal, painful ways without there being any accountability or even recourse to address it.  The anonymity behind this new form of bullying has sometimes encouraged other kids to participate in this behavior too who, if it weren't for the seeming distance created by the anonymity of the internet, would not be bullies at all.

I received a note in my email today letting me know that my eldest daughter's school is now aware of several cases of these anonymous hate pages being written to, for, and about kids at her school.  My daughter is not all that interested in social media, something I am deeply grateful for at the moment. But I worry, because she is sensitive.  And I think she would be an easy target for this kind of thing. I worry for her, specifically, because if she does eventually develop an interest in this kind of social media, she could be deeply injured by it.  But it causes me to worry in general as well.  I worry for the kids who are plugged in in this way, those who have experienced this kind of bullying and those who haven't yet but will experience it.  I worry not only for the kids who are bullied by this, but frankly for the bullies themselves.  What will it do to a kid's psyche to realize that they contributed to the death of one of their peers?  Some may have to live the rest of their lives with a deep guilt and shame.  Others may feel a power to destroy that they then want to explore further.  I worry about how the illusion of anonymity (because in fact, if someone really wants to, that anonymity can be broken through, especially on the internet), is giving license to behaviors that we otherwise recognize as despicable.

Of course, the situations in which it is of most concern involve our young people.  But the truth is that this anonymity leads adults also to behave in despicable ways.  I read the comments left on articles published in on-line journals and papers.  The more anonymous the commenters are allowed to be, the worse and more personally attacking the comments become.  The couple of truly nasty comments I have received at church have come anonymously.  There is not one person in my church whom I think of as unkind.  But apparently, under the guise of anonymity, even the behaviors of the most loving of us can take a mean turn.  It is hard at times to not lose all faith in humanity when we witness and experience what people do when they are allowed to be anonymous.  And I can't help but think that kids don't learn to act like this in a vacuum. We learn to be nasty by experiencing or witnessing others' nastiness.  We learn despicable behavior by experiencing and witnessing despicable behavior.

My challenge then for all of us is to strive to live as if all that we do were seen, because in fact, it all is.  If not by other people, then by God, or the Universe, or whatever you recognize as bigger than ourselves.  We don't go through life anonymously.  But even if we did, it would behoove us to strive, for the sake of those who watch and those who learn from that watching and those who experience our actions, to live life with integrity, compassion, love and a genuine effort to be the best we can be.  It is also something we need to discuss with our kids.  No matter how "safe" they may feel in these seemingly anonymous sites, they should never act with meanness towards others.  Those conversations need to be had.  It is not just the bullied who are being destroyed.  The bullies themselves are being injured too by being allowed to do this kind of damage to others.   It changes you to hurt someone else.  And my prayer is that the hurt we do to others is minimal, for the others' sakes, and for our own.