It can be the hardest word we ever say
by Ken Miller Rieman ~ September 1st, 2010. Filed under: Newsletter, Pastor's Page.
‘Help!’ A cry, a plea, a prayer, a teaching, a command. Five years after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, the images of survivors on rooftops take us back to those agonizing days.
For several thousand years, western civilization has been enamored of the rugged individual who can outlast wind and wave, the captain of their own destiny. And though Hebrew and Christian scriptures warn us against the idolatry of self, many people of faith now swear by Benjamin Franklin’s dictum, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’
To be fair, truth is usually a two-sided coin, and there are surely people whose sense of entitlement has fostered a lifestyle of dependence, but I think the scales have tipped too far the other way. As we have fashioned our faith in our own image, we’ve taught our children that their need is their weakness, that, with the right attitude and hard work they can accomplish anything.
Now we are paying the price. When our young people leave their nests and encounter things they can’t handle on their own, they are often left, not only facing their challenge alone, but feeling like failures. When their marriages begin to fail, turning to a counselor can be put-off until fatal wounds have already been inflicted.
These struggles are not unique to the young. When our seniors discover that their failing bodies and minds make homemaking difficult and driving unsafe they must navigate a world built for drivers, the able-bodied, the independent. The message implied is: “You’re done. You’re productive years are behind you. Now you’re just a burden on the system.”
Can any of us be surprised at the growing persistence of depression in the wealthiest and most powerful nation in the world? Can we wonder at the decline of religion among people who have everything they need? Do we still not see that salvation has lost its meaning for those who can ‘do it all’ on their own?
Evolutionary biologists studying human behavior have recently asked why humans cry, what adaptive purpose crying might serve. The hypothesis guiding their study is that tears form bonds which strengthen human groups. When people see others crying, something happens which triggers their own tears. Much more than communicating weakness, the shared empathy deepens a commitment to the well-being of the other.
The notion that ‘evolution’ ensures the survival of the fittest creature is incorrect. Evolution is a mechanism by which the fittest genome survives. Even behaviors which betray the weakness or need of an individual can strengthen the prospects for survival of individual and species alike.
And so we cry out, we teach each other. Help! With courage we acknowledge our brokenness, our need. We reach out to friends and family, to pastor and counselor. In so doing, we model strength. We lighten the burdens of those who worry for us. We empower them to deal with their own issues.
With humility, we discover how we have hurt, or failed to help others and undertake the personal and social transformation needed to be whole. In so doing, we recognize that our own health and destiny are bound to the well-being of neighbors near and far. We free ourselves for the radical re-orientation away from our insecurities, toward the possibilities which exist in covenantal relationships.
With understanding born of compassion, we ask the deep questions, explore the far-ranging connections, and build a more just world–all because we’ve learned to acknowledge our need for help, and accepted the inter-dependent nature of the world in which each of us is a blessing.
September 9th, 2010 at 10:42 am
Ken,
Thank you for these words. I think our culture teaches that to be sad is to be weak, to have need of ‘other’ is to be in personal failure – to be needy or emotional.
We live amidst incredible suffering, but it can be hard to know. When we do not share our suffering with each other, the appearance of ‘no-suffering’ can confuse us into believing something is wrong with us personally, rather than something wrong with the picture. Something wrong with how we are seeing ourselves and each other.
We need us. When ‘I’ suffers, we are suffering. The Buddhist insight of ‘no-self’ is important in this respect.
No-self means that the mind we usually identify as ‘me’ has, as its basic foundation, the influence of all other beings. Buddhism would say that there is no ‘I’ involved in those identities, only ever ‘we.’ We are not I’s, we are us, expressed through us individually, but always rooted in our collective interpenetrating nature.
This churning sea of consciousness was here before our births and will continue past our deaths, as the ripples we make become waves washing over the minds of the young.
It is no stretch of the Western imagination that we learn to be who we are through others – we absorb, emulate the behaviors of others, all of it stretching back through our shared ancestry.
The group, others, present the context for every emotional state or stream of thought. For this, it is not only the extraordinary suffering which requires the support of the group, but all suffering, all pain, all joy, all love as well. Everything we experience takes place within the context of the collective. With awareness and intention, we call this communion.
Our society’s work to isolate that which it has become averse to is our number one challenge to communion. We must be willing to meet each other in the hard places, and say ‘no more’ to conventions requiring everyone to smile and look pretty.
We cannot heal an ugliness that we are unwilling to look at and know clearly. There is no rug to sweep it under. It is all still here at the surface, producing social unrest and myriad injustices. If we can only muster the courage to look and open our hearts to be wounded by that which is appropriate to be wounded by, we can find our feet on a path of healing where we have, culturally, been on a path of ignorance and death.
To find compassion, we must go to suffering. Our pain is the doorway to our hearts. May we find ourselves fully aware of our pain, equipped with solidarity in the will to address it, and full with love that we may, together, find the strength to heal us.