Category Archives: Psychological growth

Defensiveness wrecks love: Respond to it inside and out

When I sat down to pray, I realized I felt steely. I didn’t think I was defending against God; I was just generally ducking and covering, not wanting to get defamed or abused again. I was a bit brittle, withdrawing, muted. My short stint on the condo board has been accompanied by a daily dose of attacks by a distinct minority of unhinged homeowners. Plus, gangs of kids are doing do-nuts next to our City Hall,  Netanyahu is bombing apartment houses in Lebanon and J.D. Vance is doing what he does — it all has me on higher alert than usual.

We need to be reasonably defended, or we will end up being rolled by the evil players in the world, right? But if I am over-defensive, even knee-jerk defensive, I will be spending my prayer time recovering (thank God that is possible), and when it comes to love relationships, I may be more troublesome than intimate. There is nothing worse than feeling attacked on Broad St. and then attacking my wife in retaliation soon after I come home!

Being defensive can become a way of life, instead of being the inappropriate behavior it is. My marriage counseling clients often demonstrate their habitual defensive dialogue right before my eyes. If I suggest they are being defensive, they often get defensive. (Note to self: “If you label someone to their face – as in ‘You’re being defensive,’ they are likely to feel attacked or demeaned.”) It would not be unlikely for someone to respond, “No I am not being defensive, I am trying to be heard.” Or maybe even, “I don’t want to be in a relationship like I had with my mother, cowering and hopeless.”

It is often very helpful to learn to listen to your partner according to the deep things that make them feel defensive. Try not to say, “I feel like you are talking to your mother and I don’t want to be your mother.” If you can say something like, “I think I hear you, can you tell me more?” They are more likely to be more than merely defensive before long.

Defensiveness kills relationships

Defensiveness is a serious problem. According to John Gottman, it’s one of four patterns—criticism, defensiveness, contempt, and stonewalling—that lead to divorce. [Video]

Defensiveness is also very frustrating. You may feel you’re “just trying to be honest” and your partner “isn’t really listening” to you when you are mostly just being defensive. While you are making your defense, it may seem like they’re just rehearsing a comeback, because they are. Your defensiveness is calling their own defense system into alert.

Maybe you’re doing the best you can, but they can’t hear you because they’re too busy explaining that you misunderstood them to begin with (or even misunderstood yourself)! Or they are clarifying their intentions. Or making excuses. Or saying you caused everything. Or saying you do it too. Or pointing out something else you do wrong.

Click pic for thoughts on breaking habits

Such a defensive dialogue is a bad relationship habit. (Yes, relationships have habits). It needs to change. There are inner and outer aspects to that change. Let’s start with the inner.

You’ve got to be OK with yourself.

I told a client not long ago — a charming, rather religious, wife, “It is important to let your mate develop. They are on their way to their best self and you can help them. But you can’t just defend against their incompleteness. Their sketchy insides are not a reflection of you nor are you in charge of them.” Then I held up clasped hands and separated them into two fists. “I think married love is two healthy people coming together in a kiss. It’s not being wadded up into a messy ball. Married love is like the verse in Psalm 85 that envisions a great future: ‘Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.’” We unpacked my micro sermon together.

Marriage is one of the best relationships we are given to work out love – the kind of relationship we desire from the moment we are born. Our loves are wounded and even broken, but they are healable and realizable. Marriage helps us heal and develop — and often because it is so messy.

The defensiveness that inevitably comes up in marriage most days, needs to be listened to in love: first in God’s love, and then in our own love for ourselves. Then, hopefully, we can hear what is going on with us in the context of lasting love with others: parents, mates and friends. Exercising the trust we build on the secure base on which we stand is a daily process. But if we know we are in that good process, we love better.

Like all our personal feelings and experiences, defensiveness has a few sides to it. Acting it out unconsciously will almost always have a bad effect. But having no sense of being defended will not work for good, either.

Like I was saying before, appropriate defense is crucial to have a secure sense of self. I am myself and not a part of someone else or subject to someone else’s power. If you violate me or you don’t accept or respect me, I need to respond to that.

But then there is Israel. Everyone keeps saying, “Israel has a right to defend itself.” But did thousands of people need to die and whole territories laid to waste? Married partners often feel they have a right to self defense and feel justified in laying waste to their partner!

Having the power to destroy someone is not the key to a love relationship or living peacefully with our neighbors. Not reacting defensively is better. Lack of defensiveness allows for listening; it is better for making real change possible – the kind of change every person and every relationship must experience to grow and to build the intimacy we all crave.

But an unconscious lack of defensiveness can easily become a defense in itself. For instance, I thought a long time about responding to an email from the Condo Board’s loyal opposition this morning. I decided to get involved because they had told an outright lie about what I had said in the Association meeting. It might have been easier to hide, to “let it slide,” instead of being vulnerable enough to be who I really am.

In our Bible study last night we edged on this topic. Is the opposite of being defensive being accepting? Or can accepting also be a lack of healthy boundaries? Is the opposite of being defensive being curious? Being hopeful? Being uncertain in a good way? We all need to figure that out. We might need to hold our conclusions lightly as we continue to love and learn.

I think not being defensive is a very spiritual process, full of discernment and of trust in God’s presence. It can be painful. Not being defensive can look like the same kind of self-giving, even suffering love Jesus expresses. I find it painful because defensiveness is often a response to criticism and I felt a lot of criticism when I was growing up. It may set off an alarm bell in you, too. Should I respond to the alarm bell or take a better way?

Throwing a wrench in the pattern

Therapist say things like “Let’s see if we can nip this defensiveness pattern in the bud,” Or  “If you don’t like your partner’s defensiveness, make sure that you’re not causing it by being critical.” Or at least they imply you can fix things if you just stop doing things wrong. They write whole books about it.

They are right of course. People do make their relationships a lot better when they are taught to relate. When they change their mind and their behavior, an old pattern is violated and a new pattern can form. Love gets a chance to grow. When we see a pattern and throw a wrench in our relationship’s habit, things get better. Things can change from the outside in as well as the inside out.

The therapists give us “five easy ways to stop all this defensiveness.” They are probably right, of course. Applying good ideas is picking the low-hanging fruit of change. If you are not willing to take basic relationship advice, then you should just accept you’re going to stay unhappy in love. “Why would any one do that?” you ask.  They are defending themselves.

Likewise, if all you are going to do is keep defending against someone’s defensiveness and blame all the issues on them, you’ll just be playing your part in the endless relationship-breaking cycle. “Why would anyone do that when they can see their behavior is ruining what they want?” They can’t see through their defensiveness.

Change takes more than good intentions and rigorous discipline, both of which can feel a bit false. It takes a good heart. I think inside out is probably more important than outside in. But while you are waiting for everyone to come into their fullness, pick some low-hanging fruit. Daily small steps are usually how we humans get to deeper destinations.

Three ways to stop defensiveness from wrecking love

The worst-case scenario is when your loved-one’s criticism leads to your defensiveness. Then your defensive response leads to their next criticism — which then leads to your next defense.

This can happen in a flash. I hear about it all the time. In a few minutes, defensiveness and criticism can escalate, and turn into contempt and stonewalling. That’s not good. A cycle like that can go on indefinitely—for weeks, months, or years. Couples who bicker constantly can be this cycle for decades. That’s not a happy life.

First idea. When you need to talk about a problem, make a soft start. Don’t “blow them out of the water” to get their attention. Don’t initiate the conversation with an abrupt, loud, or angry remark. Instead, use a soft tone, say that you want to talk, and ask “When would be a good time?” Get their consent. Make an appointment. Don’t give up, but wait if you need to. If you avoid asserting yourself because it feels like conflict to do so, you might need to rehearse what you need to say.

Second idea. Figure out how to turn your criticism into a request. Criticisms are about the past; requests are about the future. Criticisms are about negatives; requests are about positives. Shift from a past negative to a future positive.

For instance, instead of the criticism, “You never lock the door!” you could use the request, “I feel safer when the door is locked. How about putting it on your mental checklist for a week?”

If you try behaviors like this you’ll help undo what is threatening. You’ll figure out what your loved one could do, going forward, that would help. You’ll be addressing the solution, not just the problem. When you make a request like this, people are much less likely to be defensive.

Third idea. One of the best cures for defensiveness, if probably the hardest, is to find some part of a request or criticism for which you can honestly take some responsibility. And respond to that first.

You might not agree with everything that has been said. But find some part of it you can acknowledge in good faith. Address that part first. Stay on that topic until your partner experiences some relief. Don’t shift to other parts too soon.

For example, if a wife says, “You’re working too many hours, like you always do.” Don’t say, “Well, I wouldn’t have to work so late, if you’d do more.” That response would be A+ defensiveness and we are trying to fail. Try saying, “That’s true, honey, I have been working late.”

The first response probably leads to a fight — our fears are screaming, “Man the battle stations!” The second response doesn’t lead to a fight. It seasons the conversation with validation and vulnerability – our fears are soothed, “I am being heard.”

The first response is a classic turn-around: “I didn’t do it, you did it.” Maybe you even got in their face or made yourself look bigger when you said it. Maybe they could see your face turn red or get “that look.” The second response acknowledges some responsibility for what the other person is experiencing.  Maybe you gave a soft answer to their hard-edged statement. “A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1 KJV).

Listening to people explore their loves and lack of love makes me marvel that love springs up in the world every day. No matter how many ways we try to kill it, our desire for it comes up with the sun. I think we were built for love — the deeper we look inside, the more we find it. I think our relationships were built for love, too — the more we look out at all those people with grace, the more opportunities we find to build it. Defensiveness is a basic way we can ruin it. Discerning where we are reacting to fear instead of having healthy self-respect is the work of prayer and I hope it was the conversation you had inside while you read this.

With some help from David Woodsfellow and John Gottman

Your mind is an ecosystem: May you reach a positive tipping point

mind as ecosystem

I’ve been in the room when clients reach a tipping point. It is an honor. It is a moment when so much good work has been done it overwhelms their previous way of life. New beliefs and possibilities crowd out their previous view of themselves. They say, with some surprise, “I actually woke up the other day feeling good about myself. I think people call it joy.”

The self-defeating personality

Recently, some “masochistically-organized” clients started to tip. Let me create a composite of my experience with such dear people to let their stories inform what I’m trying to say. The people to whom I am refer are not “actual” in a personal way.

The two I am picturing are both “self-defeating” in their personality style, so we often talk about core beliefs having a “sticky” quality. Something like a less-than-permeable lining taints whatever is coming into their thoughts and feelings.  One of them described it like the burned-on gunk on the bottom of their ceramic skillet corroding their inner life. When they were young they were told they were no good and were severely punished for it. Another was left alone in a world where they were foreign and got the impression they were shameful. There is a lot more to their stories than that, of course.

You may have heard the term “masochistic” used to describe someone who derives pleasure, sometimes sexual, from being hurt. That is an extreme version of a common personality style. The disorder has been removed from the DSM, but clinicians have been revisiting it lately because clients keep showing up with the general characteristics.  A person with this self-defeating personality style probably started out with painful family relationships. They began to avoid successful or pleasurable situations because such circumstances did not fit in with their view of themselves as bad.

They may try to please others at the expense of caring for themselves because they still want to be seen and affirmed and taking care of others seems like the only way to get there. Their identity ends up based on caring for others, often people who are difficult to care for. At the same time, they are often isolated and do not seek help for themselves because they feel like they are flawed and are ashamed to be seen.  They self-sabotage – most hopes. Any positive narrative, any optimistic action faces a strong interior argument against it. They probably long for a different kind of life but have a terrible time taking action and often take up addiction as a way out of the problem.

The round-about way to health

In the process of unlearning these negative core beliefs about themselves we’ve scoured  the goo off the skillet bottom, so to speak, and let the original creation be seen and cared for. It took a while; it was burned on. And it seemed like fruitless work to begin with, since “I am just a pan bottom” and “it is my own fault I let myself get so messed up.”

For these and many other clients, their journey to better mental health did not follow a straight path. The meandering process of self-discovery and making new choices is very frustrating for many of us because we have adopted a metaphor for our minds that is inadequate for describing what is really going on in us. Metaphors matter.

Zachary Stein has spent a decade trying to change the metaphors we use to describe ourselves from mechanical to organic — that seems like an obvious choice since we are organisms and not machines. But you are probably comfortable describing yourself as “not firing on all cylinders” or “not computing” something. In a nice article, Stein gives a history of why we think like we do.

Scientific models of the human mind have evolved through a series of metaphors. Sigmund Freud used several metaphors to describe the mind, but the one with the most explanatory power was the metaphor of the steam engine. “Psychic energy” was understood as if it were steam compressed within a chamber. Bottle up too much energy and tension, and it will eventually explode elsewhere as a neurotic symptom that you cannot understand. Sex, of course, was the great pressure valve for Freud, a necessary way to release potentially dangerous buildups of energy. The dynamic workings of the mind, which Freud used to explain psychopathology, were all metaphorically related to the basic mechanisms that drove the machines that propelled the Industrial Revolution.

This view fell out of favor in the 1960s when cybernetics came on the scene, and soon computers replaced steam engines as the dominant metaphor for the mind. By the 1980s, the metaphor of the “mind-as-computer” was fully embraced by the emerging field of cognitive science, and it continues to dominate thinking today. By now it has even seeped into the popular culture and become a part of our everyday school vernacular. According to this metaphor, the brain is hardware and the mind is software. The mind is fundamentally about “information processing,” and our individual information processing units vary only in terms of their speed and memory capacities. Smart students have a lot of RAM and fast download speeds. Students who are struggling just “don’t have the bandwidth.” If students follow the right programs and sub-routines, they will encode the right information, which will be stored in memory and made available for retrieval later.

My clients, including the two composites I am thinking of, often feel like they are flawed and need “re-programmed.” Since I can’t effect that, they are often frustrated with me, too! Unfortunately (I guess), they are not computers. They are organisms and are much more variable and subject to their environments and history than a machine.

You are an organism, not a machine

Just as they are, my clients are much more beautiful than a machine. I often point that out, which does not always go over well, since they think they are worthless unless they have utility to someone else. If they ever do anything wrong (and who doesn’t?) or experience some setback (and who won’t?) their lack of value is reinforced. They assume they are about to be thrown out for a better model. They either double down on some guilt-ridden good-deed-doing or double down on avoiding their fruitless search for love. My admiration of them for who they are right now does not compute. Their metaphor won’t allow it.

Dr. Stein reinforces what my faith taught me as a child. We are organisms in the ecosystem called humanity. What’s more, the various elements that make us who we are individually form the psycho/spiritual ecosystem of our personal humanity. Jesus called us a system of heart, soul, mind and strength. Paul’s metaphor for life in the Spirit pictured us as members of Christ’s body, each an honored part. Our right/left brain, brain/mind/body reality is a flexible, moving, adaptable reality.

Stein refers to the great Swiss psychologist and epistemologist Jean Piaget to get some back up for insisting on an organic metaphor to describe us.

Piaget argued that the mind is best understood as an evolving organism — living, growing, and self-regulating in a metabolic relationship to its environment….

According to this view, the mind is best understood as a complex and dynamic system, always in process, always changing, growing, and becoming more diverse and differentiated. At the same time that they grow in internal complexity, ecosystems also become more integrated and specialized, filling up their niches and fostering symbioses. Ecosystems are composed of a wide variety of independent and yet co-evolving species, so there is not one central “unit” that can serve as an overall measure of the ecosystem. Rather, to understand an ecosystem, you must take multiple measurements in a variety of places across a variety of time scales. Ecosystems are also sensitive and actively responsive to the larger environments in which they are nested. They can be easily disrupted and thrown off balance, but they are also generative and creative, self-regulating, and self-transcending. They are adaptable, open systems, and are constantly in a state of dynamic equilibrium. As ecosystems evolve, they display nonlinear growth, with jumps, dips, regressions, and daily and seasonal changes and rhythms. Their growth is not simple and linear, but messy and dynamic. And no two ecosystems are the same. Every ecosystem is unique. Give two ecosystems the same input and you should not expect the same output.

Daniel Hannah depicting the metaphor.

Your personal ecosystem can change, too

These days our sense of being a part of an ecosystem is more apparent than ever since we are increasingly aware of how creation’s climate is changing. We are afraid of a negative tipping point that might occur any day. Scientists seem to know what humanity needs to do to reverse the impact of what we unwittingly did.

You may have already applied that last thought to yourself. I think we all know if we apply new behaviors and avail ourselves of new knowledge, our psychological ecosystem will change. It might not be easy if the previous habits of our hearts are burned on. Or to be more ecological, it might not be easy if an invasive weed has taken over the backyard of the new psychological house we are building (God help you if it is bamboo) and we need to dig for a while to get it unearthed.

I’ve had clients who were not only masochistically-oriented, they were computer programmers! I know of such a composite person who had filled up their life with a lot of positive action: anti-porn worksheets, meds from a psychiatrist, care from social workers, self-help books, and psychotherapists. I often wondered out loud how they could avoid going over a tipping point — a psychological application of Malcom Gladwell’s first book. They saw their searching as a series of examples of how nothing ever worked out for them and how they were a shameful failure, doomed to go the wrong way.

Yet they fitfully persisted. Until one day they came in and said, “I feel different. I remembered myself thinking a negative way and realized it was a memory, not a present reality.” They had gone over the edge. In their case, one of the central features that pushed them over was returning to the church. They went back to the one place they knew they were loved for who they are. Thank God they did not encounter a priest who reinforced their sense of being a terrible human being! In God’s ecosystem of love, the various positive elements began to cohere and a new environment was made.

One of the reasons I love the difficult work of psychotherapy is how realistic it is. It doesn’t work like an internal combustion engine or a computer. It is much more like the Earth, subject to the weather, to dry seasons and wet, and subject to constant surprise and endless change. But in our process, we can also be sure the sun will come up on time every day.

From my window, I look out over the huge expanse of trees in Fairmount Park; the sun is setting right now. That view makes it easier to also see my clients reaching out like the limbs of trees finding the light. The other day, when the Circle Counseling therapists met, I had to say how honored I felt to be in the room to see it dawn on them.

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Today is Cyprian of Carthage Day! He was a leader facing the persecution of the church, disunity, and a pandemic! He was a prolific writer, so he offers us insight into his faith and the life of the Church in the 200’s. Honor his life at The Transhistorical Body. 

Stories ten-year-olds tell, and political conventions

We spent last week with three ten-year-olds and a younger sister. A few people have checked in tosee if I made it through in one piece! No problem at all. I was sad to come home. It was glorious.

Alongside the laughs, the grandchildren taught me a lot. Even though I remember being an elementary-age person, I can no longer feel what it was like very well. Nothing happened to arrest my development, so I seem to have cruised through fourth and fifth grade.

As a result of my benignly neglected memory, I almost forgot about the storytelling. As I saw the kids in action all week, I remembered I was also a typical, 10-year-old — full of stories I would like to tell, if anyone would listen.

Story in the making

Around my family table, a good story was prized when I was growing up. My mother was an especially avid and witty teller-of-tales, most of which were true. She was good at exaggeration, which is one of the ways we spice up our relationships, amuse our friends and make new ones [or so it is researched].

As a result, my siblings and I could reenact scenes from the DMV because our mother amusingly or angrily recast her day for us over dinner. We took her exaggerations even further and expanded them into imaginative fiction. For instance, “Mrs. Caputo,” one of her quirky co-workers, had an SNL-worthy storyline of her own, even though we never met her. My dad was quieter, but I still feel like his co-workers at the supply house were family-adjacent, even though I rarely saw them.

Stories make meaning

Ten-year-olds are in the psycho/spiritual development stage when people learn to make meaning. So elementary school children usually like stories and tend to be preoccupied with rules (especially those they violate — or when others violate the one they just made!). For instance, on the van ride home, there was an argument whether the oceans cover 75% of the Earth’s surface or two-thirds — and about “Why did you say 75% instead of ¾?” (BTW, Google says it is 71%, so they were both equally wrong, which would have been rather discouraging to know). They were aggressively using new skills to evaluate their previous, childish ways and compete, often loudly, for some respect at the adult table.

At this stage of development, we learn ways to make sense of the world and deal with it. We can now evaluate and criticize our previous stage of imagination and fantasy. The youngest of the four grandchildren we had last week was holding on to her past. So she demanded a stuffed unicorn as a souvenir. Alternatively, her older sister spent a good deal of time in withering criticism of unprovable facts — if you did not want to watch a movie, you’d better have a good reason! She also gave me a few disparaging looks once the thin plausibility wore off one of the unbelievable tall tales I find amusing to tell.

The gift of this stage is narrative. It feels powerful to form our own stories and re-tell old myths. Grasping our own meaning and influencing the meaning of a group experience can be intoxicating.  During one lunch, two of them were telling stories about previous vacations. Each had an example to give. The conversation was beginning to shift when an unheard member stood up from his peanut butter and loudly said, “Stop! I am trying to tell you my story!” They politely turned and gave him his due. I was glad he had a place where he could expect someone would listen!

In the elementary years, there remains a quality of literalness to our stories. We are  not fully ready to step outside the stories and reflect upon their meanings. Children take symbols and myths pretty much at face value, though they may be touched or moved by them at a deeper level.  The faith of many people remains at this level all their lives. If you were watching the political conventions, I think your vestigial ten-year-old self was often touched as symbols evoked truths and plausible-sounding stories were told to fill the experience with meaning. Plus, the “fact-checkers” activated your own primitive fact-checker to ponder whether “Coach” Walz was lying or not [NPR expert].

The joy of storytelling

My glorious vacation happened right in the middle of this development stage. So a lot of LOUD narration of everything was going on, including most TV shows (only their tablets could stifle them, really). Early in the week, my grandchildren invented a game which  reflected the new Time Bandits series for kids we found on Apple TV. (Caution: My wife found it almost intolerably boring).

The kids loved it. In the stories about the bandits, they bumped up against something magical and something factual at the same time – the same thing they were doing every day! In their derivative game, they let one of their squad be the director of an improv story. The director assigned each one a part, then he/she set the scene, and told them to act it out with further coaching. They did this at least once a day accompanied by gales of laughter.

What my wife and I did for four days was see what was happening at the DNC after the kids went to bed. Like it happened all day in our beach rental, there was a lot of storytelling going on every night at the convention. I realized at what level most of the DNC sessions were aimed: the ten-year-old level. Most speakers had a script about “Coach” Walz and “Comma-La” for the audience. They kept re-telling a story until we could all tell it. The candidates needed to be established at the level most of us are living. We make meaning with stories.

Unfortunately, adults can get stuck in such an elementary-school understanding of the world. No matter how many times Kamala says, “We need an adult in the room,” it is hard to be one if everything is aimed at our ten-year-old selves. Trump is called “weird” and so he refuses to say Vice President Harris’ name correctly. The whole convention chants it properly, so he literally says, “I’m not weird, they’re weird” [CNN]. That’s very elementary school stuff, and it appeals to vast swaths of the country.

A lot of the so-called “evangelicals” with the RNC seem to be Christians stuck in their ten-year-old stage of faith development. As a result, they are usually stubbornly self-centered — as in, “You ate the last donut!” (prepare to die) or “An embryo has human rights!” (prepare for prison). They often find themselves in trouble because they have not yet mastered living according to principles, even though they love them — as in, Papa has to tell them, “You never leave the door open, especially if the air conditioner is running” or “Israelis and Gazans both have terrible stories to tell and terrible leaders to endure.” As undeveloped adults, they are the “You’ll go to hell Christians” — very committed to the rules being followed (especially by someone else). The “We won’t go back” people holding USA signs at the DNC might not be much different.

If adults stuck at ten years old end up maturing into the next stage of development, their transition often occurs in a very dramatic way. The childish faith most of us experienced might suffice until our psychological patterns are disturbed or we experience an epiphany and meet Jesus in our twenties or have a spiritually-productive mid-life crisis. All our stages of development begin with baby steps, whether we are still babies or not. Some of us take first steps of adult faith when we are older. It can feel weird.

I wonder if we can effectively run a country, a church, or anything at a ten-year-old level.  After all, those people can’t remember to pull the shower curtain shut before the bathroom floor is flooded! Is there an escape from immaturity prison? Is any transformation possible? Maybe, since the Time Bandits keep finding a portal episode after episode. And maybe, since both conventions kept promising an escape from the present, as well.

But as I watched Apple+ monetizing historical stereotypes and feeding them to us from their endless archive, and the DNC doing much the same, I had to wonder. It might be harder to get past our ten-year-old stage than I would like to think.

Take hold of your anger so you can let it go

I have talked to many Christians about their anger. Many of them could barely tolerate the subject because they were ashamed of their lack at self-control. I’ve concluded they felt that way because they had concentrated on talking themselves out of it. They were looking for their thoughts to align with God’s and then expected such an alignment to fix their anger problem. They really wanted to stop being a time bomb their mate was afraid they were going to set off. They understood their problem. But they just could not get their problem to listen to reason.

Pixar boils it down to this.

You might carry some anger

If the description above resembles you or someone you know, I hope you won’t hold it against them. They may have grown up in a church that was so convinced the Bible was God’s gift to solve all their problems they were obsessed with learning and applying the words correctly. They might have been so into the interpretation of the words they stopped listening with anything but their minds. Chances are they have been angry at themselves for being such a terrible listener and apply-er!

I have often preached, as I am about to, that the people who wrote the Bible were a lot deeper than the Bible. John, the beloved disciple of Jesus, plainly says he did not scratch the surface of what Jesus said and did at the end of his profound Gospel. The Apostle Paul apparently spent 14 years  listening and meditating before he was sent on his missionary journeys and wrote his wonderful teaching. They experienced deep transformation that went way beyond words.

Here is one thing Paul learned from God (not merely the Bible) that applies to letting go of your anger.

Not that I have already obtained all this [new life], or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. – Philippians 3:12

He wrote that line because he was taken hold of by Jesus and he was moved to take hold of Jesus. He did not apply a loosely understood set of words to write his letter and he was not teaching his readers to do that. He believed the Holy Spirit would take hold of his readers just like he was, and they would be able to let go of the past and live a new life with new goals just like he was.

If you are so angry your children are afraid of what you will do or say to them; if you can’t get along in your work or it makes you so frustrated you can’t resist venting about it; if you are angry in advance about what you suspect someone will do to you much of the time; if you use intoxicants to “take the edge off” because you are perpetually on the edge of anger; Jesus is reaching right into that place, Spirit-to-spirit, to save you. Take his hand and good things will follow.

When anger comes up, take hold of it

Lots of people want to be saved and have taken all sorts of steps to reap the benefits of faith. But many of them have done it via words and thoughts, not by Spirit and experience. They say to me with frustration, “I have done the right thing. I study the Bible every day. And I am still this way.“ You may have grasped the content, but not the hand of Jesus.

When it comes to anger, when we pray (which is mostly too deep for words), anger will likely come up if we have it, unless we are committed to repressing it. If we let our anger surface, acknowledge it — you could say “grasp it,” then we can let it go.

Some people I’ve heard lately want the Spirit of God to fulfill promises on their behalf and take care of their anger. They say things like, “I did what the Bible says to do. I cast my anger on God because God cares for me. So why was I still furious as soon as I saw my wife?”

There are a lot of answers to that question which go beyond what I am trying to do here.  But one answer would be. “I think you may have really just cast your anger back into the place where you usually keep it, and you expected Jesus to guard the door for you.”

What we need to do is let the anger out when we are with Jesus. We need to see it as best we can. And then we can let it go. The mindfulness people do a nice job at getting to this idea, only without Jesus in the room. Here is a nice meditation one of them suggests. I think Jesus wouldn’t mind sharing that YouTube with you. When I looked for a Christian variation designed for the same purpose, it was mainly a collection of words we were supposed to think about. I’m not even going to show it to you.

When you let the anger up it might be like a hot ball. One person described it as a dark slimy mass. Another envisioned a heart with chains around it struggling to beat. It might feel terrifying to intentionally look at your anger and feel it, to take hold of it like it takes hold of you. But you can do it.

You could get with your therapist or spiritual director and they might help you experience the feeling of anger when it is not just a reaction. You could start by talking about what you’re feeling with anyone who will listen, which might be your spouse if you let them. They might help you remember the earliest times you experienced anger coming at you or coming from you and how you formed the habits you formed for defending against it or using it. You might learn why you protect it, or dominate with it, or love it, or are afraid of losing it.

Sunset at Sea — Renoir, 1879

Then let go of it

I think we have to grasp the self-defeating emotional habits and thoughts we carry before we can let them go. It might be a gentle process like loading our anger on a little boat made of fallen twigs carefully putting it in the stream and watching it float away. Or it might be more aggressive like wrestling with an opponent through the night until something new happens.

We need to apprehend our anger before we can set it loose. The translation of Philippians 3:12 which is most accurate, in my opinion, includes the word “apprehend.” It reads something like, “I want to apprehend what apprehended me.”

The sentence reflects how Jesus apprehended Paul like He was chasing down a terrorist that day Paul was on the way to Damascus to do more crimes against the Lord’s fledgling community of followers. For the rest of Paul’s life he relished being imprisoned by Jesus, stolen from the world of sin and made a slave to righteousness. What a guy! His deeply spiritual and helpful sentence has the feeling of his exhilaration: “You’ve got to grab it!” You probably won’t share his excitement unless you open up to being grabbed in the deep places you organized to defend your heart when you were very young, or when disaster struck.

See if you are angry about being apprehended after reading what I just said. See what parts of you are off limits to being touched by the Spirit or by love. Anger is usually a first line of defense against what we fear or hate. Is there anything don’t you trust Jesus to handle with you, something your anger is trying to handle instead? Ask him yourself, and you will probably be well down the road to letting go of your anger.

I know people who are angry with their spouses about how they are angry with them. But they all love and depend on their spouse! They would like not to be angry at all. They would like to stop having arguments with people in their heads. It makes no sense. When you notice that irrationality, that’s the part of you that needs to be grasped and ultimately let go. Just withdrawing with the feeling back to safety or detonating it for the same reason will not work for good.

When you are contemplating with God and anger comes up, welcome it. It is not just a distraction, it is you. You may not know everything about it: “Why I am like this? Where did this come from? Why don’t I want to deal with it?” But if you listen in the quiet you may grasp a lot more in your soul than you understand with your words. You probably know a lot about your anger you would rather not handle.

Grasp what you can so far, maybe even put your hands around that ball and look at Jesus looking at it with you. Shame, fear, loss, disappointment, all sorts of deeper emotions may start to rise. That’s OK. They may move you to let the ball go and let Jesus heal you.

Maybe you will see that hot ball of anger float away when you let go of it, blown by a spiritual breeze until you can’t see it anymore, like Renoir’s little boat (above) out in his spiritual sea. Then turn back to Jesus to see how he looks and what he wants to do. Let him do it. Lay hold of him.

I hope some kind of embrace comes to your mind when you turn to Jesus — He loves you, angry or not, after all. You’ll get to feel that love more when you’ve taken hold of your anger so you can let it go. You’ll undoubtedly feel more love from others, too, and they will feel more love from you, for sure.

*******

Today is Harriet Beecher Stowe Day! Few, if any, American women have had more influence on the United States than she had. Meet her at The Transhistorical Body.

Wrangling about law when “nothing is written”

One of my favorite scenes in the masterpiece, Lawrence of Arabia, shows what happens after Lawrence returns from his journey across the Nefud desert. He has just accomplished the impossible by taking the Ottoman port of Aqaba from the desert side.  Having returned across the deadly, scorching expanse, he is told one of his companions, Gasim, fell off his camel and was left behind. He is advised any attempt to save him is futile — Gasim’s death is “written.”

Lawrence goes into the desert to find Gasim.  I give you the long version of the scene of his return just to celebrate the cinematography and score. It is worth your four minutes just to watch David Lean humanize the abstraction of sand and sky.

Later on that night, after Lawrence has rehydrated and awakened in time for dinner, Sherrif Ali, in all humility, says, “Truly, for some men nothing is written unless they write it.”

I think it is safe to say Lawrence was teaching Ali to think, “Everyone decides their own fate. No one’s destiny is predetermined.” And “I’ll be damned if I let that man die.” I hesitate to disagree with Hollywood, but Lawrence is wrong even if he is brave. I don’t think it is “me, or us, against the world.” If nothing is “written” it is not because men rule  the world, but because  the world is alive with the Spirit of its Creator and is growing in grace (or in spite of it). We should be beyond arguing about what is merely written by now. But we wrangle.

Daily Mail captures Johnson at the courthouse

The fight for what is written

Last week the spectacle of Trump in court continued, with Mike Johnson, himself, attending in order to subvert the gag order (possibly in the name of Jesus), with Matt Gaetz tweeting in the ex-president’s honor, “Standing back and standing by, Mr. President.” For those guys “nothing is written until they write it,” for sure, as far as I can see.

For the prosecutors who dare to bring Trump to trial, “It is written, in the law. And no one is above it.” The law is god in a pluralisitc democracy and the prosecutors want it known the assaulters are crashing up against the stone of the legal code.

We’re having a national crisis about the law. But all those Christians involved in this battle should remember that law is just a tutor (disciplinarian, guardian, etc.) to teach us how to exercise our freedom to live in grace. Isn’t that the clear New Testament teaching? Subvert the law or apply it, it can’t kill you or save you, at least not forever.

The temptation to fight for or against what is written is everywhere, it seems.

  • Right now, many people are so afraid, they are reverting to certainty and order. Jesus Collective devolved into a teaching platform instead the catalyst for a movement. They may have fallen off their camel in the desert.
  • My former denomination has vainly tried to quash a book people have written about their experiences of being LGBTQ in their branch of the Church, cast out, and abused by what someone said was “written.” This contrary book was written by people who refused to leave someone in the desert, refused to be confined to principles imposed in the 1600’s.
  • My HOA leaders keep trying to shore up what went wrong with the past management of our old building instead of starting here and now and working together for the future. Like I said last time, someone threatened a lawsuit because of some words thrown their way! There are many lawyers scheming away.
  • My church splendidly presents ancient humans with lovely words each week and performs classic chants with great voices and instruments. They are heirs of someone else’s invention instead of inventing like the heirs we are. I think we may love being ruled by the liturgical rules.

You have your own examples, I’m sure. I think I am effectively tired, again, of everyone who teaches, “It is written.” I’m a Jesus follower, so I am mainly talking about church leaders, pulpiteers and dueling factions splitting up the Methodist Church, etc., who are wrangling over words, litigating righteousness constantly, sometimes like Trump, sometimes like the  prosecutors, but rarely in grace.

Don’t we resist bad teachers intuitively?

That is a wishful question, of course, since we follow tracks that are bad for us all the time. We believe the voices in our head defending us against what we thought might kill us as a child! We all have our own laws we follow. But don’t most of us also have an operable b.s. detector?

If we connect with Jesus at all, the Holy Spirit will be helping us detect what might really kill us.  The main way God does that is to bear witness in our own hearts, souls, minds and strengths that we are God’s adopted children in Jesus.

We tend to settle for much less than that wondrous place in the world. Nevertheless, I think we all know about it at some level. I think I felt the following truth before I read it in the Bible when I was seventeen for the first time, as a relatively aware adult:

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption [into the full legal standing as an heir]. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if we in fact suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. — Romans 8:14-17 (NRSVUE)

I’ABBA, FATHER! – The Place of Praiseve always resisted the heresy of power-hungry men saying they love the Bible and then undermining the fundamental truth Paul taught. Nothing in the New Testament was written about how we should live  which was not first written by the Spirit witnessing to us, just like God taught Paul. Our organic relationship with our loving-parent-of-a-God is the central example Jesus wants to demonstrate. We’re not an application of principle, nothing is merely “written;” the Spirit is writing. We’re not unforgiveable, merely the sum of what we can make of ourselves, we’re all imminent miracles.

I have to admit, I’ve got that power-hunger in me, too. I also often feel I, alone, must solve the problems I face. We were talking in a meeting of psychotherapists not long ago about clients who struggle so hard with their view of themselves, views that have a repeating narrative, something “written,” making ruts in their brains.   They come up against certain situations and a voice comes from nowhere, it seems. It could insist, “We never cause conflict. It is deadly.” Or worse, “You are unlovable. Don’t bother.” You probably have stories that repeat in you, too.

Yet In the surprisingly psychologically-sound Romans 8 (only surprising to people who think humanity has progressed until they and their pleasant splendor is possible), we are reminded, or promised, what every one who shares Christ’s death and resurrection knows. Nothing is “written,” at least not in stone. Everything is a new creation in Jesus. We’re changing and growing in grace. The Spirit of God is creating us right now and we’re creating right alongside.

Guilt: How it starves our true selves

To begin this meditation on guilt, I want to confess one of my guilty pleasures. I was (OK, still am) a John Denver fan. No, I did not think he was cool, and yes, he can still make me cringe at times. But his clear, sharp tenor often often gave melody to the best of the idealistic 1970’s and 80’s. Those were years when I also expessed some of my loftiest ideals (often in song!). Like Denver, I hoped to be accepted but sometimes I was scorned.

A hunger guiltfest

I was looking through old pictures from that era as I prepared them for digitizing and ran across one from an event for the youth group we called “The Planned Famine.” Our intentional community was devoted to living simply and sharing our resources so others could live. Many of us led the youth group so we spread our convictions into the church, as well. For instance, as part of our Famine, we charged the parents and other adults  for a “Third World Dinner,” which did not go over well with some of them who got nothing and “starved.” Even today I would remind them that getting aced out of food isn’t pleasing to the 783 million hungry people in the world right now, either.  (Here are some Mormons doing the same idea we had 25 years later).

Our theme song for the 30-hour, overnite “famine” was John Denver’s “I Want to Live.” He wrote it as a potential theme song for President Carter’s Commission on world Hunger. Here he is singing it.

A lot of the dinner and the overniter was, unfortunately, about our guilt. Not the good guilt of admitting a sin against God and our true selves, but guilt before what we should have been or guilt about what others think and say about us (or might), or guilt  about our lack of laudable courage and deficit of shining character (at least compared to others). When John Denver sang, we felt ashamed of ourselves and the earth for letting people starve. Some of us became hunger warriors. Most of us just became better educated about more things to avoid.

Life under criticism and contempt

There is some room for the shame we felt, but not in the way we often feel it. When  criticism leads to guilt and contempt leads to shame, we often defend against those awful feelings with only the tools psychology offers us. They aren’t bad tools, they just aren’t up to the full task we need to complete.  Paul Tournier says,

Freud reveals to us all that remains infantile and regressive in us, our fear of life and of responsibilities, our longing for a refuge in maternal consolation. We are all children, and we feel guilty at being so lacking in courage, in virility, in adulthood. C.G. Jung widens these notions by talking of integration and by depicting [humanity’s] destiny as the acceptance of all that is within [each of us]. — (Guilt and Grace p. 54)

We cannot blame our lingering unease with ourselves on psychology alone because Christianity has specialized in guilt. It has often been better at crushing people than fulfilling its promise to set them free. Instead of surpassing Freud’s “becoming adult” and Jung’s “integration,” Christians often  criticize one another’s behavior and pour contempt on people who threaten or offend them. Maybe you don’t do that, but the church of the last decade in the U.S. has become even more famous for it.

We pour guilt on ourselves, too, even if other don’t induce it. Instead of glorying in our weakness, as the Apostle Paul insists we should, so God’s power for transformation can break into us and break out, we feel guilty that our weakness makes us powerless. We can’t do what we are meant to do. Our fear of failing at our responsibilities has made us ineffective rulers of ever-diminishing zones of personal control. We have shriveled under the comparison with others, using the whole internet to demonstrate how incapable we are of measuring up. And we may also protect others from having their own struggle with guilt by suggesting they should not be so proud as to think their desires to live are relevant or warranted, just like ours aren’t.

Baby humpback finding her wings off Maui

Leaping from the dark

When we played John Denver’s song during the Planned Famine, we had a slide show to go with it. We needed to turn up the volume of the song enough to overcome the distracting squeal and click of slides moving around their carousel. The faces of child after child came on the screen from around the world, some happy, many starving, some dying. John sang for them,

I want to live I want to grow
I want to see I want to know
I want to share what I can give
I want to be I want to live

And then he changed to the hopeful imagery of animals marine ecologists were just coming to understand.

Have you gazed out on the ocean,
Seen the breaching of a whale?

We put up a beautiful slide of a whale leaping out of the depths. I vividly remember the small, involuntary gasp it aroused in me, “I want to do that.”

I want to do it because Freud is right. We are all children singing, “I want to live.” I want to leap because Jung is right. From the depths of the great ocean of the unconscious self, even the collective unconscious, if you like, our true selves are coming up to the surface for air. If we get out of the way, they might leap into the sky with joy.

It takes some courage to leap, to suck in clear air. It takes some effort to be real, to swim free in the ocean of grace in which we live. If we dive in and leap out, we know our previous methods of self-preservation will need to die. We know we will have to admit we cannot effectively avoid all the things that cause us to condemn ourselves: our lack of genuine relationships with mates and friends, our resistance to admitting our faults, our willingness to avoid responsibility, our lack of forgiveness, lack of solidarity with our struggling acquaintances and loved ones, our unfaithfulness to God and others. We will have to see how we flee, fight, and freeze because fear rules us.

Tournier, again says

To be faithful to oneself would mean to always be like oneself in all circumstances, in the presence of any interlocutor. We remain silent in turn about either our deepest convictions or the doubts which inevitably arise concerning them. We hide our feelings, or else we show them to be more ardent than they really are. To be faithful to oneself would mean to be natural, spontaneous, fearless of the opinions of others. (p. 57)

I think we all feel a calling to be faithful to our truest selves, perhaps from our first cry after leaving the womb. We want to live. I think we can at least imagine how God called us into being and can hear at least a faint voice encouraging us to live, full and free, embodying everything we’ve been given to be and do. I wish for you a moment of joy today when you dare to breach the surface. May your unique, childlike, fully-welcomed desires and fully-honored genius be well-fed and lively.

The impact of siblings: Five things you are probably sharing

There I am with my sibs, dressed to impess at the Grand Canyon.

I might have just learned the legendary tales I heard about my behavior at the Grand Canyon, or I actually formed some of my earliest memories on that trip when I was 3 1/2  years old. It might be the latter because I remember loving that cowboy hat I’m wearing in the picture. My oldest brother bought it for me with his own money! I also remember getting home with it and securing it in my toy box/treasure chest by stuffing it in and sitting on the lid. Maybe I just remember the trauma of my brother’s fury when he found out I’d ruined it. Or maybe  I’m remembering the verse my older brothers added the song they wrote about my shameful exploits (yes, that really happened), which I can still sing. For good and ill, my siblings made a difference.

Siblings finally found their place within the last twenty years as one of the main influences that make us who we are. They are kind of at the end of a list of understandings about human development that kept growing. The list is someting like this. We’re born with certain traits, as any parent can tell you. We’re shaped by our early experiences with our parents and other caregivers, especially mom. Our genes help define us. Our socioeconomic environment shapes us. Our the race and other labels pasted on us force us into molds. And then, the researchers finally started talking about our siblings. They may influence us more than we think! Much of this post aligns with an early proponent of their importance: Jeffrey Kluger in his 2006 book, The Sibling Effect: What the Bonds Among Brothers and Sisters Reveal About Us.  [And an NPR story, of course].

Family systems used to be of primary importance

Before Europe became overly individualistic and spawned the epitome of it’s philosophy: the United States, our membership in a family, our relationships with parents and siblings, was the primary way we were identified.

The two Testaments of the Bible demonstrate the primacy of family by placing one at the center of the story: that of Moses and Jesus.

  • In Numbers 12, Aaron and Miriam, brother and sister, are among those named as opposing Moses’ leadership. (In Exodus, they are at his right hand, but some say they could also be construed to be members of his clan, not siblings).
  • Jesus’s siblings go with him to the wedding at Cana (John 2). Later they seek an audience with him (Matt. 12, Mk. 3, Luke 8). They ask him to prove his messiahship (John 7). They are among those waiting for Pentecost in Acts 1. His brother James leads the Jersualem church, and with another brother, Jude, writes part of the New Testament Canon. (Some say these were older step-siblings from Joseph’s first marriage. Some claim they were cousins. Some say Mary had one child and was, in the flesh, a perpetual vigin, or why was she left in the care of John?).

The plain reading of the Bible reinforces what most people in history have seen as obvious: families are central to life. That assumption still holds, although it is less relevant than it used to be. Nevertheless, Harry and Megan can scandalize the world by breaking from the royal family. Trump’s and Biden’s children are central to the drama that surrounds them. If your parents are still with us, one of their friends probably got the report on how you are doing this week. I’ve already reported to two of my friends and it is just Thursday, as I write. Everyone, including me, cares about the family.

The researchers validate our siblings still matter

By this time, we might all resent how social scientists keep discovering what everyone already knew. They seem to think nothing is true until they prove it with a peer reviewed research project. Nevertheless, it is interesting to see how their data leads them to think our siblings have made much more difference in our lives than they are usually credited.

From the time they are born, our brothers and sisters are our collaborators and co-conspirators, our role models and cautionary tales. They are our scolds, protectors, goads, tormentors, playmates, counselors, sources of envy, objects of pride. At our Easter brunch I overheard one older sib instructing the much younger grandchild how to behave for most of the afternoon.

  • They teach us how to resolve conflicts and how not to.
  • They show us how to conduct friendships and when to walk away from them.
  • Sisters teach brothers about the mysteries of girls; brothers teach sisters about the puzzle of boys.
  • They steer us into risky behavior or away from it. They make us brave or fearful.
  • They form a protective buffer against family upheaval and sometimes cause it.
  • They compete for family recognition and come to terms–or blows–over such impossibly charged issues as parental favoritism.
  • Whether they love and accept us or not is huge.
  • Whether they stick with us or not could prove life-saving or deadly.

Our spouses arrive comparatively late in our lives; our parents eventually leave us. Our siblings may be the only people we’ll ever know who truly qualify as partners for life. “Siblings,” says family sociologist Katherine Conger of UC Davis, “are with us for the whole journey.”

5 enduring impacts of sibling relationships

Not appreciating being dethroned by my one-year-old sister
The fighting is useful

My younger sister and I tied jump ropes around the necks of our teddy bears and engaged in  hysterical aerial combat. But I don’t remember having many fights with her directly, even though we shared a room  for probably too long. We still feel close even though we rarely see each other.

With our older brothers it was another story. To hear us tell it, we lived in a constant state of preparedness for the next attack. They were five and seven years older than me. So you can call me a “lost middle child” or the firstborn of the second family. The year I was born, our family moved to a new home in another city which my dad helped build with his own hands. My sister and I were part of that new beginning and probably responsible, as far as our brothers were concerned, for what they lost. Neither of us were welcome in the world of my older brothers. I spent quite a bit of time locked in a bathroom for fear of them, or locked in a closet because of them, or hiding under a bed. I had to be fast on my feet or my very accurate brother could nail me in the back with a green walnut.

“In general,” says psychologist Daniel Shaw of the University of Pittsburgh, “parents serve the same big-picture role as doctors on grand rounds. Siblings are like the nurses on the ward. They’re there every day.” All that proximity breeds an awful lot of intimacy–and an awful lot of friction. Being “stuck” with the involuntary relationships we have with sibs develops certain skills that can prove useful later in life.

Laurie Kramer, professor of applied family studies at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, has found that, on average, sibs between 3 and 7 years old engage in some kind of conflict 3.5 times an hour. Kids in the 2-to-4 age group top out at 6.3–or more than one clash every 10 minutes, according to a Canadian study. “Getting along with a sister or brother,” Kramer says dryly, “can be a frustrating experience.” But think of all the lessons you learned about how to deal with future difficult people! You might want to take a minute and jot down how you learned to deal with conflict in your family, you are probably still acting out the same pattern, perhaps unconsciously.

Favoritism leaves a lasting  impression

I think I was about 50 years old when my sister stated what she thought was obvious, “You were the favorite.” Plus, “Mom and Dad did not cross you. When you were away on a foreign exchange trip, all hell broke loose.”  I was flabbergasted. I thought I was just an oddball. I did not feel special, just overly criticized. But her revelation did explain the car I did not have to pay for (like my older brothers had to), the clothes I had, and my father’s habit of zeroing his binoculars in on me alone at every football game.

At first, kids appear to adapt well to the disparity in their household and often learn to game the system, flipping blatant favoritism back to their shared advantage. They’ll say to one another, “Why don’t you ask Mom if we can go to the mall because she never says no to you. ” I am evidence of that finding.

But at a deeper level, second-tier children may pay a price. “They tend to be sadder and have more self-esteem questions,” Conger says. “They feel like they’re not as worthy, and they’re trying to figure out why.” Some of them feel a deep guilt for causing problems or shame for being such an imposition; they can feel like “No one wants me” when they see how their sibling is wanted.

If this does not seem to register with you, you might try thinking again. In the workplace, employees often instinctively know which person to send into the lion’s den of the corner office with a risky proposal or a bit of bad news. What’s more, it is really no coincidence when you feel that old, adolescent envy after that same colleague emerges with the proposal approved and the boss’s affirmation. I think a lot of people have been cancelled in the past couple of years because they are the favorite and someone needs to be scapegoated to expiate leftover sibling rivalry.

It is also true when you experienced those old feelings you pulled up the knowledge you gained back in the family room — the smartest strategy is not to compete for approval but to strike a partnership with the favorite and spin the situation to benefit yourself as well. Such an idea did not come from nowhere — you learned by relating to your siblings. Maybe you learned it on the playground, in the extended familiy or in the neighborhood. But if you had a sibling, the pattern was probably part of the mimetic experience we all have with them. Would you like to take a few seconds to remember where you landed in the order of things in your family? Naming your place or your role might help you not to mindlessly repeat it in your present circumstances.

 The role modeling works for good or ill

I set myself apart from my family in many ways (or as my sister might say, “I was set apart”). For one thing, like I said, I became a Christian. I also did a lot of reading, unlike the rest, got educated and, unlike my father, I did not smoke.

Smoking is one of those things researchers have studied in relation to role modeling among siblings. Joseph Rodgers, a psychologist at the University of Oklahoma, published a study of more than 9,500 young smokers. He found that while older brothers and sisters often introduce younger ones to the habit, the closer they are in age, the more likely the younger one is to resist. Apparently, their proximity in years has already made them too similar. One conspicuous way for a baby brother to set himself apart is to look at the older sibling’s smoking habits and then do the opposite. We might emulate a good trait, even idolize an attractive older sibling. Or we might differentiate from a negative trait or devalue an ill-behaved sibling. Either way, we learn.

You would think that siblings raised by the same parents in relatively stable enironments would be very similar. But my four children have all found their way to be distinct. They are all curious and read, they all make good rational arguments, they are all forthright, and they all share a similar moral compass. They all have a strong streak of faith and feel obliged to do good in the world. But the second did not follow the lead of the first and the last two who are twins can still conjur up their personal universe. The oldest and youngest vie to be the role model. The middle two tend to ignore them.

If you have/had older siblings what did you emulate? How did they influence? What did they instill in you? Celebrate it or finally let it go! If you have/had younger siblings, what did you do to them? How did their competition motivate you? Enjoy your role, or maybe apologize for it!

Having an other-gendered sibling makes a difference.

I spent an inordinate amount of time making designer clothes for baby dolls out of old socks on rainy days. My sister was available to me and I was often the only playmate available to her. Plus, we enjoyed a rather imaginative play-world. Such time spent made me a more approachable high schooler. My home was pretty dominated my testosterone, so being on my sister’s side gave me a different look at the other half of humanity.

Brothers and sisters can be fierce de-identifiers. In a study of adolescent boys and girls in central Pennsylvania in families with male and female siblings, the boys unsurprisingly scored higher in such traits as independence and competitiveness while girls did better in empathic characteristics like sensitivity and helpfulness. What was less expected is that when kids grow up with an opposite-sex sibling, such exposure doesn’t temper gender-linked traits but accentuates them. Both boys and girls hew closer still to gender stereotype and even seek friends who conform to those norms. “It’s known as niche picking,” says Kimberly Updegraff, a professor of family and human development at Arizona State University and the person who conducted the study. “By having a sibling who is one way, you strive to be different.”

As kids get older, the distance from the other gender tends to close. At that point, children with opposite-sex siblings have a relational advantage. William Ickes, a psychologist at the University of Texas at Arlington, published a study in which he paired up male and female students who had both grown up with an opposite-sex sibling — and set them up for a chat. Then he questioned them about how the conversation went. In general, boys with older sisters or girls with older brothers were less fumbling at getting things going and kept the exchange flowing much more naturally. “The guys who had older sisters had more involving interactions and were liked significantly more by their new female acquaintances,” says Ickes. “Women with older brothers were more likely to strike up a conversation with the male stranger and to smile at him more than he smiled at her.”

How did your sister or brother impact how you see yourself and your gender? Do you see any evidence of how they prepared you for future relationships? Do you need to process or let go of any abuses you endured?

Singing for the folks at their 50th
The ties bind

I think my siblings feel an affinity, a tie that somewhat binds. I suspect if I needed something, they would want to help me. But as a foursome, we are not too bound. The older two have a rift going that has kept them from even speaking for many years. My sister is most in touch and I try to keep up. But none of them are likely to call me or visit. So I think we feel the bind but it does not have a lot of force. It is possible, when a family system has a habit of cutting people off, everyone learns that trait. My mother’s three sisters had one whose husband cut her off. On my father’s side there is a brother who cut himself off. My sibs may feel like going it alone is normal.

More typical than in my family, the powerful connection siblings form becomes even more important as the inevitable illnesses or and losses of late life lead us to lean on the people we’ve known the longest. It is typical for siblings who have drifted apart in their middle years to drift back together as they age. “The relationship is especially strong between sisters,” who are more likely to be predeceased by their spouses than brothers are, says Judy Dunn, a developmental psychologist at London’s Kings College. “When asked what contributes to the importance of the relationship now, they say it’s the shared early childhood experiences, which cast a long shadow for all of us.”

While sibling relationships, of all relationships, may have an “inevitability” to them, it is still true that all relationships take willing partners. Love is not just a concept, it is a lived experience. So even the closest ties can fray and the loosest ones can be re-tied. (Watch The Miracle Club on Netflix right now). Inactive or not, our life experiences with siblings have shaped us and the ongoing feelings of conection and loss, the lessons learned, the wounds yet to heal and the unique joys and triumphs experienced continue to have a force for good and ill. In an age which deludes people into thinking they can or must go it alone, it is important to note the impact of the siblings who travel with us in our deepest memories and feeling patterns. For a minute, maybe you should mourn the loss of the siblings you have lost, acknowledge the value of those you have, maybe let go of the pains, and contact your sibling(s) if it is safe to do so. Their existence mattered and matters. You matter to them, too, one way or another.

Emergent identities: The queer future of the church, too

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At the recent CAPS conference in Atlanta, Mark Yarhouse and friends again brought me up-to-date on the quickly developing gender/sexual identity landscape. Their workshop centered on three things: a 2019 book by Rob Cover, the re-examination of their own data, and their practical experience with young people and parents navigating the new queer world on the internet. It was enlightening to explore emergent identities with them.

Emergent identities

Cover’s book, Emergent Identities: New Sexualities, Genders and Relationships in a Digital Era shows how traditional, binary understandings of sexuality and gender are being challenged and overridden by a taxonomy of non-binary, fluid classifications and descriptors.

He explores how and why traditional masculine/feminine and hetero/homo dichotomies are quickly being replaced with identity labels such as heteroflexible, bigender, non-binary, asexual, sapiosexual, demisexual, ciswoman and transcurious. New ways of perceiving relationships, attraction and desire are contesting authorized, institutional knowledge on gender and sexuality. The digital world in which young people have grown up has played a central role in developing new approaches to identity, individuality, creativity, media, healthcare and social belonging.

Two charts from the presentation show how descriptions of gender and sexual identity have changed since the 1990’s. The “residual” are vestiges of the past terms still in use. The “dominant” are terms widely accepted and presently in use. The “emergent” terms are those rapidly replacing the dominant understandings. If you have a teenager in your life, they might be able to teach you a few things about the emergent terms personally, since they are likely being asked (or pressured) to adopt a way to describe who they are using one of many new “micro-minoritized” identity labels. My seatmate suggested “micro-marginalized” might be better. I came away preferring invited to the “queer smorgasbord.”

The Church is notorious for being at least 20 years behind the dominant culture’s debates about the society being constructed. There are some good reasons for this; the best being that the church sees itself as a dominant culture for its members with an historical and eternal worldview. The worst reason being that the church only listens to itself and is defensive of its power to use words to dominate its population.

The church has been having a fight about “homosexual lifestyles” since the 1990’s and churches are still breaking up over it. Christians in Congress are trying to turn the tide back to some imagined past. The pandemic unleashed a wave of division over racial inequity in the Church (which made sense to me), but those concerns were often supplanted by sexual identity issues. My own former church basically dissolved itself over arguments from which the culture was quickly moving away.

I don’t know if I prefer the chaos and hyper-individuality of the new era dawning. I doubt that 14-year olds can adopt an “authentic” identity in order to find themselves. And I am afraid tender hearts and minds may perform gender and sexual identity and end up with even more doubt and a tragic sense of being alone with an overwhelming, over-scrutinized landscape. I texted my son while I was in the session and said, “Right now I am listening about asexual demiboys.” He replied, “People failing to overcome their anxiety and trusting a pornography-filled society.” He might be right.

Regardless, I think I prefer the “queer” worldview that is emerging. It may never become dominant, but it provides a helpful corrective to the “born that way”/this-or-that views of the past. It is a great gift from the LGBTQ community. Even without a queer theory to describe a common sense approach, my acquaintances and clients would show how gender and sexual identity are much more fluid than us older people were taught. We may have felt that in our own souls and accepted it in others, but we would not have talked about it because we’d be in an argument. Nevertheless, I know more than one man with a wife and children who decided he was gay and left it all behind. I know of a twentysomething transwoman who decided, after a few years, she preferred presenting as male after all. I know a man who left his wife to marry a lesbian who left her partner. If they dare, many straight friends can recount their various gay or lesbian experiences. Life has always been a bit “queer.”

Philosophers with a “queer theory” are talking about more than gender and sexual identity, even if that is where they personally begin. The Q in LGBTQ is becoming an umbrella idea under which the dominant and emerging “letters” find shelter. Even more, “queer” is a lens through which academics and others can approach their disciplines with greater imagination, seeing “outside the box” as so many entrepreneurs like to do. Queer is the anti-binary worldview.

Innately queer grace

As I look back on my work in the church, a lot of what I was thinking could be called “queer.” In terms of sexual identity, I resisted forcing people to choose according to  a church policy. I did not win that fight, even though I asked Janelle Paris to introduce us to her book The End of Sexual Identity in 2012. When we finally offered a “policy,” it had a queerness, a both/andness, which did not satisfy everyone, but it allowed for people to find their own ways and stay in grace. I’m not sure we knew what we were talking about, but it was in line with the zeitgeist. That alignment ultimately did not last either, like I mentioned, but I still think it was more about the future than what people fought about.

The church could use a big dose of queering. The biggest reason might be so it can have any hope of listening and speaking to the next generation. Some healthy queering would help theology emerge from its captivity to Eurocentric, Enlightenment/binary, cis-male domination. It would also let the Bible be as honest as it is about humanity, including sexual expression. When it comes to sexual relationships, the Bible is rather queer: there are polygamists, eunuchs for Christ and almost no nuclear families. While there is an assumption a man and woman should covenant and make a family, it seems like there is a lot of room for people who don’t do that (like Jesus!) and lots of room for love that goes beyond whatever the present boundaries might suggest. I wouldn’t put the Bible under the “queer” umbrella, but I do think queer fits easily under the umbrella of grace.

 

Arelational: To not wear the label, try this exercise

“Arelational” is a new word that keeps popping up. It had to be coined to describe the kind of environments in which Americans, in particular, increasingly live. Such environments  develop individuals who struggle to make and nurture relationships. As a result, labellers can label them: arelational.

It's official: We stare at our phone more than we stare at our TV

It takes relationships to flourish

Since 1938, the Harvard Study of Adult Development has been investigating what makes people flourish. The original participants and their descendants have provided the longest in-depth longitudinal study on human life ever accomplished. The answer to their original question is simple but profound. The way to flourish is to have good relationships. The only thing you have to do is nurture them.

The latest director of the study and his associate recently wrote a book to expand on this simple truth. In a teaser article in The Atlantic they explain why their conclusion is not just painfully obvious.

Turn your mind for a moment to a friend or family member you cherish but don’t spend as much time with as you would like. This needn’t be your most significant relationship, just someone who makes you feel energized when you’re with them, and whom you’d like to see more regularly.

How often do you see that person? Every day? Once a month? Once a year? Do the math and project how many hours annually you spend with them. Write this number down and hang on to it.

For us, Bob and Marc, though we work closely together and meet every week by phone or video call, we see each other in person for only a total of about two days (48 hours) every year.

How does this add up for the coming years? Bob is 71 years old. Marc is 60. Let’s be (very) generous and say we will both be around to celebrate Bob’s 100th birthday. At two days a year for 29 years, that’s 58 days that we have left to spend together in our lifetimes.

Fifty-eight out of 10,585 days.

Their conclusion is: that’s not too many days to commit to such an important relationship.

Did you make a list of your closest relationships and do the math? It may be a little terrifying to get serious about that subject. It can seem a little daunting to make and keep a friend, but it is one of those things about which we say, “No pain, no gain” and, “It’s worth it.”

Our arelational environments

Bringing this subject up feels dangerous to me. I’m afraid it will wound people further where they are hurting the most. Since the pandemic I have heard story after story of broken relationships which have not been recovered. The British government recently, and famously, created the loneliness ministry and sociologists keep writing articles about how loneliness is literally sickening and killing people.

As psychological researchers begin to explore what has happened to therapy clients, a new literature and new words are emerging to describe what is going on. A few weeks ago an acquaintance used a new word his therapist had given him: “arelational.” The therapist was helping him to see the environment in which he grew up and the institutions that he inhabited in a new light. They were filled with important relationships in which people did not fully connect and change each other. The effects of these environments dramatically impacted his marriage, where he was mainly insisting on a transactional relationship based on mutual benefit.

If you Google “arelational” you won’t find too much. Google will just send you to “relational” (and Word is trying to spellcheck me right now). But it seems like a good word to describe how thin our relational ties are these days. Many of us spend weeks in arelationality. Some of us don’t even go to stores for transactions but rely on contactless transactions to keep fed — we are becoming accustomed to arelationality.

Google did take me to the “Relationality Lab,” however. It was founded after the pandemic in response to the “global loneliness crisis,” the threat to democracies, and the failures of justice movements to address climate change and systemic inequity effectively. I like their logo at the left.  In one of their research articles, they use the word “arelational” as if it were in common use. The founder is talking to corporate and governmental settings, where he wants to make the most difference. But I think the word applies to most contexts where we will spend most of our time today. The “Lab” workers say:

Some environments are better at generating and maintaining relationships than others. A community that trusts one another gathering to share a meal is more relational than, say, Twitter. In a relational environment new connections are effortless, conflicts resolve in generative ways, and creative power is unleashed. In an arelational environment all of these things can still happen, but they are a lot harder and a lot less likely.

Creating and maintaining relational environments requires a particular kind of skilled labor. People with this skill can see where powerful relationships could exist and create the conditions to let them emerge. They can see where important relationships are at risk, and provide the care necessary for them to keep them resilient. Relational work might look like planning events and facilitating workshops, or it might look like cooking someone their favorite meal when they are sick. Though relational work often manifests as acts of care, it is the deep understanding behind those acts that makes it effective.

Imagine an elder who is part of a multi-general community that provides meaningful care and support. Now imagine the same elder in a corporate chain of senior homes which provide care based on a uniform set of policies. Both provide care, the care in the senior home may be better resourced and more technologically sophisticated, but the community is providing significantly more relational work.

Effective relational work requires a deep understanding of the local environment and a mind capable of seeing how relationships might change within it. A software platform, even one with the most sophisticated machine learning tools, cannot perform this work (though it might support those performing it), nor can one person perform it meaningfully for a community of thousands. Relational work requires many humans working at a human scale who are accountable to the communities they serve.

When I resigned my last pastoral assignment in August of 2020, one of my exhortations to the staff for which I worked was something like this: “If you love one another, you have a chance to survive. If you don’t, the church will fall apart.” Unfortunately, a small group of leaders took over the system and installed justice in place of love (maybe unwittingly, since I doubt they thought the two did not go together). A relational system had been holding the church together for decades. An arelational system quickly reduced it to nothing. The “deep understanding” went missing. Such stories are not unusual these days.

An exercise to help nurture relationships

Are you still thinking about your own deepest relationships and how you are nurturing them? Your personal health and the health of the systems we inhabit depends on them. If we teach our children the “deep understanding,” they will also be able to see how strong relationships are the glue of everything.

The kids might be hearing more about dissociation from TikTok, or societal meltdown from a news source, or broken relationships from Olivia Rodrigo. Or they might hear more about keeping a safe distance from germ carriers, or avoiding sexual predators and malignant  narcissists, or hiding from gun-toting radicals or anyone who takes more than they give. If we demonstrate a relational way to see the world, they might learn not to be arelational.

The Holy Spirit will probably teach you to be relational, in line with who you were created to be: a person born and reborn in love. That’s the deepest understanding.

But in honor of the researchers who are discovering  deep understanding by crunching numbers and seeing what helps people flourish and what helps people groups cohere and change, lets makes that list.

Be generous when you list the people who you love, or who give you life, or to whom you feel closest (not necessarily the ideal relationships you want). Spouses and families count, but stretch out beyond them. Try to get beyond twenty people. To do that you will be including acquaintances with whom you have some sense of mutual care, or even acquaintances you would like to see develop into caregivers. Your list might get to 50 or more!

Then rank them in terms of closeness. You could make four columns.

  • Close: The closest few (you can decide what defines close).
  • Near: The friends and neighbors on whom you could rely in some way, large or small. “Your people.”
  • Acquainted: The acquaintances for whom you have affection for or affinity with but have limited interaction with (likely from work or church or other groups)
  • Known: The acquaintances with whom you feel some connection but who are not “in” relationship with you.

If you follow Jesus, you’ll see how he could have made this list. Ask him to walk you through yours and show you what it means and what you might do about it with his help.

Even if you don’t have the help of Jesus, you can nurture relationships, increase your well-being, and keep your society from falling apart. Like the Harvard studies keep proving, it will take nurturing, which requires effort. Relationships often start like they just “happened.” But they don’t last if you expect them to just keep happening to you. They have to be built and maintained. You may not have the tools to do that work, so you will need to acquire them. There is substantial opposition to relationships these days (screens, capitalism, hedge funds, addiction, you name it) so you’ll have to be stubborn about nurturing and hold on to your deep understanding.

I’m going to avoid thinking about effecting a glorious endpoint full of great relationships and concentrate on taking the next step. I’m going to try making a chart and tracking how much contact I am making with all those people on my list. I am not going to track how much effort they are making with me (unless I am being weirdly and harmfully codependent). I am just going to make sure I am doing what I can to keep from sliding into arelationality.