Hope for Dialog

Hope for Dialog

It’s hard not to be a cynic when it comes to government administration of services, particularly when I see public works projects taking so much time that I think my brother and I could have done it in half the time with a pick axe and shovel. And, of course, the job is so expensive that if my brother and I were to do it for the same price, we’d achieve early retirement.

So, no, this liberal doesn’t want government doing what it often does. Nonetheless, it’s hard for me to listen to the criticism of President Obama when it’s goes in the direction of “Why are we in such trouble?” I don’t see why his use of the massive government apparatus in the middle of war, financial break-down, and ecological crisis is wrong. What do people want? To do nothing? Even George Bush did something.

In fact, Bush and the Republican-led Congress expanded government enormously, adding to the deficit when we had been watching it diminish, expanding a war without just cause (and asking for hardly any national sacrifice), and ignoring ecological problems.

I want a civil government that is efficient, provides appropriate oversight, but doesn’t get in the way. I want a government that is opposed to war, just as people hesitate before fighting (Is this worth it? we all ask.). I want a government that expects accountability and lets failure happen when it’s the mistake of the person or corporation and won’t overwhelm those who can’t absorb the losses. I want a government that is deliberate and simple. Even with Obama and the Democrats in control, we don’t have those things. But I can’t see how Republicans are helping the issue, for I don’t hear civility, opposition to war, accountability, reasonableness, simplicity, and patience. I don’t hear that from anyone except Obama, whose governing demeanor is different than what we’ve had for nearly two decades.

I’m not happy with the way things are or the way things are going, but I think the kind of deliberate, friend-making leadership Obama offers is worth a try. Yes, there are enemies, but there are two ways to destroy an enemy: kill it (which usually creates other enemies) or befriend it (which changes both parties).

I tried to see the good in Bush when I found myself disagreeing and mistrusting his leadership. In fact, I’ve tried that with every politician I’ve disagreed with, for I find it personally comforting to remember that most of our politicians have a good heart. They might be, in my opinion, wrong, but, like me, they want to solve some problems. Plus, I notice that the ones who are open to dialog actually have some good ideas that, balanced with other opinions and ideas, often turn into great ideas.

I’m glad Obama is President, but I’m also glad there are Republicans willing to talk with him, with me, with Democrats. I think the philosopher Hegel was right: a good thesis combined with its antithesis creates a synthesis that is the best idea.

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

A few times in my life I have met a person who has chosen to radically simplify his or her life in favor of pursuing a new level of independence or a dream. What they give up and gain is astounding to me. They often give up something like their car, eliminating car payments, maintenance costs, fuel costs, and insurance payments, replacing it with $1.50 bus rides, bike rides, walking, and the necessity of planning for a substantial amount of time to reach their destinations. Inevitably I hear them speak about physical fatigue in the same breath as stress reduction and personal relaxation.

They also often give up the size of their home—usually a place filled with either financial or relational conflict—in favor of radically reduced home costs, less stuff to take care of, and spending more time outside.

They often give up a full time job in favor of part-time work, using the extra time for creative or leisure activities. They tell me they don’t miss the 40 hour work week at all, but they are still very active and productive.

Their lives slow down, their financial obligations are reduced, and they find themselves satisfied with less, willing to do less expensive things, very productive,and incredibly happy.

It’s inspiring!

A Prayer for Balance

After hearing Rev. Andy MacBeth speak poignantly in a church class about the need for finding a middle ground between our reflections and our actions–so that we act carefully and follow up on reflections with action–my task in the group was to close the class with prayer. Not knowing what to say, I found myself saying this:

Dear God,

Help our reflections to be reflected in our actions, and

Help our actions to be reflections of our reflections.

Amen.

Overcoming Insecurity

Overcoming Insecurity
by Dr. Ron McDonald
Speech given to Christ UMC, July 2006, and Civitan Club, Oct. 2006

Why are we insecure? As a pastoral counselor I have learned from my counselees that insecurity is the result of a poor emotional foundation. Insecure people have often been robbed of part of their childhood by abuse, poverty, insensitivity, unrealistic expectations, and confusing punishment. Much of my life’s work has been helping people overcome insecurity and replace it with confidence and happiness.

Insecurity has become more than an individual’s problem during my career. Now it is also a social problem. Curiously, despite our escalating standard of living, our emergence as the world’s great superpower, our stable and vibrant democratic government, our incredible wealth producing market economy, we show signs of mass insecurity. It appears that the bigger we become and the more competitive we behave, the more insecure we are.
To combat this we focus on growth, military might, and winning. Big, powerful winners offer the antidote to insecurity, we think.
In my experience, though, they don’t. The devotion to growth conveys a basic dissatisfaction with what we have. Our military might and fanaticism’s hatred of it actually have made us more defensive than ever. And those who do everything they can to win find themselves isolated and lonely. These are not solutions to the problem of insecurity.
Insecurity is overcome through people connecting in genuine and loving ways, and the key to this healing is found in community life.
My concerns with our culture of insecurity led me to write the The Spirituality of Community Life: When We Come ‘Round Right (Haworth Press, 2006), in which I lift up many experiences with communities that transform lives. These are not groups or institutions, though. They are small gatherings of people who share a common creative activity and become true friends. They become a community. They cross the bridge from a group that fights together, tries to be bigger or better than others, or strives for wealth or power to a community that holds one another up to higher standards, offers genuine support and encouragement, and develops friends who will last a lifetime.
Communities make us better people. They make us happy. They make our lives simpler and inwardly richer. In communities we lose our fear, we become more interested in sacrifice than protection, we find security.
Where are these communities? Some are sports teams, some academic classes, small churches or religious classes, recreational groups, professional guilds. They are everywhere, and they have three common unique characteristics: (1) they are small, (2) they aren’t fighting enemies, and (3) participants are open and accepting of one another.
In the South we see people flocking to large organizations that have found enemies, political or social, to attack, as if that will make people feel better. We see people bending rules to win, seeking golden opportunities for themselves or their children to become rich. We see people living large, as if bigger is better. But these are, I assert, pseudo-solutions to our unhappiness and insecurity.
The true solution is found in the simplicity of smallness, in competing with friends, not against foes, and a willingness to listen to differing views, accept diversity, and the willingness to be sacrificial, not protective of self, lifestyle, and defensive about one’s beliefs. These are the characteristics of community life.
We call our cities and towns and large corporations or worship centers communities, but they are not. They are cultural gatherings where commerce, art, and recreation meet. The cultural richness of Memphis as a musical, sport, recreational, and market center is vital to our happiness, but the real strength of any cultural center is its community life. It is the small, mission-oriented groups of friends who find happiness with one another and lift one another up to greatness. It is not a group, though, that fights enemies or is against someone or something, but one that appreciates dialog and differences. A true community is a peacemaking body. They are the root of any city’s security.
Oftentimes we fail to recognize the communities we are part of. We think of them as “just friends,” and because we don’t realize how life-giving they are, we don’t hold onto them enough. No matter how young or old you are, though, if you are part of a true community, recognize it, claim it, name it, celebrate it, for it will continue to give you life as long as it survives.
The essence of how to find happiness and security is not through largeness or opulence, but in the simple, small life of community.
There is an old story of a king who had an unhappy son “that he thought the world of. But this prince was always unhappy. He would spend days on end at his window staring into space.
“What on earth do you lack?” asked the king. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I, myself, don’t even know, Father.”
The king tried in every way imaginable to cheer him up, but theaters, balls, concerts, and singing were all useless, as well as the many gifts he showered him with.
Day by day the rosy hue drained from the prince’s face, until, as often happens with those who are unhappy, the prince became ill. The sicker he grew, the unhappier he became, which made him sicker and unhappier. It became clear to the king that his son would die of unhappiness.
The king issued a decree, and from every corner of the earth came the most learned philosophers, doctors, and professors. The king showed them the prince and asked for their advice. The wise men withdrew to think, then returned to the king. “Majesty, we have given the matter close thought. Here’s what you must do. Find a truly happy person, a person who is happy through and through, and exchange your son’s shirt for his. This will make your son happy and he will live.”
That same day the king sent ambassadors to all parts of the world in search of a happy person.
A priest was taken to the king. “Are you happy?” asked the king.
“Yes, indeed, Majesty.”
“Fine. How would you like to be my bishop?”
“Oh, Majesty, if only it were so!”
“Away with you! Get out of my sight! I’m seeking a person who is happy just as he is, not one who is trying to better his lot.”
Thus the search resumed, and before long a banker was brought before the king who claimed that he was truly happy.
“Good,” said the king, “Then how would you like to be Treasurer of my kingdom and live in the splendor of my palace.?”
The man’s eyes bugged out and he nodded, “I would, indeed!”
“Away with you! You, too, are not truly happy, for you are not happy with what you have.”
Many others were brought before the king, but upon being offered wealth or power, one of which each person desired, the king would send them away.
Meanwhile, the prince grew sicker and sicker.
Exasperated, the king himself went searching for a truly happy person. Alas, he was no more successful than his ambassadors.
Late one day as the king was sadly walking back to the palace after another unsuccessful day of searching for a truly happy person, he heard someone whistling in the woods beside the road. Saying to himself, “Let me try one more person today,” he left the road for the woods and soon found a young man dressed in a jacket and pants tending his garden beside a simple shack.
“Good afternoon, Majesty,” said the youth with a smile.
“Bless you!” replied the king. Then he asked, “Young man, are you happy?”
“Certainly.”
“Are you truly happy?”
“I suppose I am.”
“Then would you like to tend the palace garden and live in the palace with me?”
“Thank you, Majesty, I will do so if you ask, but I prefer to stay here and tend this garden. I greatly enjoy watching it get better each year.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but would you like to oversee all the lands of my kingdom?”
“I will at your bidding, Majesty, but I much prefer my simple life. I think perhaps someone else would serve you better than I.”
“Then you are a truly happy person, for you are content with what you have!
“Listen, young man. Will you do me a favor?”
“With all my heart, Majesty, if I can?”
The king, unable to contain his joy any longer, ran to the young man and began unbuttoning his jacket. All of a sudden the king’s arms fell to his side, and he slumped to the ground, for the young man had no shirt on.
“Where is your shirt?” asked the king, in shock.
“I gave it away. I met a man who had no shirt, and since I have this jacket, I gave him my shirt.”
“But I needed that shirt,” replied the king in despair. “My son needed that shirt.”
The king sat upon the ground in silence for a few moments, then he looked up at the youth with a look of revelation. He stood up, took the youth’s hand and said, “Thank you, young man. I know what to do now.”
With a spring in his step and a smile on his face, the king walked back to the palace, into his son’s room, and said, “Son, I have something for you.”
His son rolled weakly over to face his father, who was unbuttoning his own shirt. The king took the shirt off his son’s back, replaced it with his own, which made his son smile for the first time in years.
From that point on his son was happy, got well, and lived a long, happy life” (from my book on community life).

Though a story as profound as this one speaks for itself, I need to tell you the story behind the story. I first read this story in a book of Italian folktales, but the story ended with the king discovering the young man had no shirt on. Having read it just before bedtime, I went to sleep disappointed in the despairing ending. I awoke the next morning with the story still on my mind, but in my dreams I had rewritten the ending, for I had seen in my unconscious eye the king’s resolution to give of his own self, to take the shirt off his own back just as the young man had done. He had realized—I had realized in my sleep—that true happiness comes from connecting vulnerably—a kind of sincere nakedness, not saving others with power, size, or wealth. He found the answer in connection with others, within the quest for and embrace of community. This is what community teaches us. This is why communities offer the right way to overcome our insecurities.

Reflections on Pastoral Counseling

Reflections on Pastoral Counseling

Loren Townsend of Louisville Theological Seminary has written an excellent book entitled Introduction to Pastoral Counseling (Nashville: Abingdon, 2009). The foundation of his book is research he did in interviewing about 80 pastoral counselors to understand who they are and what they do.

I’ve been part of the pastoral counseling movement—which formally began in the 1960s when the American Association of Pastoral Counselors was established—since the early 1970s as client, trainee, and therapist. Reading Loren’s overview of our history was like reading about the inner workings of the train I’ve traveled on for over 35 years. I’ve felt the bumps, surges, slow-downs, problems, and successes, but not really known the broader story. I was trained in psychodynamic therapy with a heavy emphasis on Rogerian technique, which gave me my foundational theories, but as quickly as I gained experience as a clinician I found myself in dire need of more theoretical perspectives. So I immersed myself in family systems theories, depth psychology, Transactional Analysis, self psychology, and studied in less depth many other perspectives. Then I found myself returning to my theological training and working to integrate many of Paul Tillich’s and Rollo May’s ideas into my clinical work. This led me to better understand the importance of the myths, symbols, and rituals of religion in my clients’ lives.

As I read Loren’s book I grew aware of how my own journey has been a part of the larger journey of pastoral counselors. We all have been seeking to integrate the burgeoning theoretical approaches in the psychotherapy field. And we’ve generally returned to our beginning: that relationships are the central healing field and clients are the subjects (not the therapists) who do the real changing. Instead of growing more certain of my expertise, I’ve grown more aware of the importance of what I don’t know, what I don’t understand, which is the life, aspirations, and relationships of my clients. The more I am able to embrace this humble posture, the more healing the therapeutic relationship can be.

In many areas of my life as I’ve grown older I’ve found just what Loren writes about. As I’ve made peace with the mainstream, I’ve become less of a counter-cultural person—just as pastoral counseling is no longer such a counter-cultural movement. I think that is a shame, for the ability to see from a fresh perspective is vital to the prophetic voice I have long valued. I also see myself in Loren’s mirror: a man who has, to some extent, sold out.

That insight, though, is the challenge I need. It reminds me that diagnosis and treatment planning is not the essence of what I do or who I am. I am a relationship therapist. Though the structure of psychotherapy is of comfort to me, it is not the foundation for my life’s work. Relationships are. I seek to be one who affirms and accepts the best of the person who comes to me for help, lifting up and challenging the negative only when it threatens to overwhelm the good. I do not want to bury my clients in names—diagnostic names—but to offer them the hope that they can reach for their very best despite their weaknesses. And I hope that my presence with them is food for the strength that would overcome weakness and brokenness.

A Child’s Review

A Child’s Review

Distributing my first CD (“Howjado? Songs and Stories for the Very Young”) has been a fascinating experience. First, I’ve been surprised at how different it is than hearing comments on my books. With books most people say what they think. With music and stories, most people tell me what they feel or experience. Almost every day someone tells me they’ve been enjoying a particular song or story. Just an hour ago a mother, walking alongside her young son, exclaimed, “He was just singing your song ‘Wimoweh’!”

Last week I spoke with a child whose father tells me has been listening to my cd “a lot.” She was grinning ear to ear as we played with a couple of those tunes, particularly adding verses to “Pick It Up.” One child, each time she sees me says, “Awongalama”—the name of the tree in one of the stories on the cd. I love it!

The other day I called my wife and meekly said, “Jim (my boss) just yelled at me.” She replied, “Are you okay?” I said, “He called me, and as soon as I answered he yelled, ‘This cd you gave me is great!’” He’s bought extras to give to his grandchildren.

For about five years I virtually gave up doing music and stories with children. I wanted to do more complicated adult music. Then at a song circle I sang “Little Red Caboose” and the “Car, Car Song.” The group—all grown-ups—lit up. It reminded me that I may just be a musician for children and the child-within. I just am not going to be a great guitarist or dulcimer player, but I sure can have fun with songs and stories for children. Interesting that that revelation happened in a song circle, for now I’m returning full circle. I started out with children’s music, with a children’s television show (“The Rickety Bridge”), with school and library concerts of songs and storytelling, and I’ve come back to it.

Tell Us About Quakers

TELL US ABOUT QUAKERS

In 2008 a class from St. Mary’s School in Memphis sent me 22 questions about Quakers to help prepare me for a class interview, which I later attended. These are my responses.

1. What are the basic beliefs of the Quaker faith?

Quakers have no creed or affirmation required for membership, but we speak often about there being a spirit of light or truth in every person that can be a guide to right living. This Inner Light, we think, leads us to affirmations of equality, simplicity, peace, integrity (or rigorous honesty), and community (our testimonies).

2. Do you prefer to be called a member of the Society of Friends or is “Quaker” acceptable?

We usually call ourselves Quakers, but I often refer to us as Friends to remind myself that friendliness and making friends might be our central mission.

3. Is there a process or a sacrament practiced in the process of becoming a Quaker?

There is no membership sacrament, but to become a member, one is encouraged to be involved in the meeting’s life for a period of time (during which one will be treated as an equal partner in most of our business and ministry activities). When one is ready, he or she is invited to write a letter to the meeting clerk expressing a desire to join and explaining why. The clerk will set up a clearness committee to meet with the applicant to listen to his or her spiritual journey and determine if the way is clear for joining. This committee will then recommend (or not) the person for membership, which can be approved by the monthly meeting for business.

4. We studied about George Fox. Could you tell us more about him?

George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, rebelled from the Church of England in the mid-1500s, believing that the sacraments, rules of authority, and form of worship distracted people from realizing what the Inner Light of Christ would reveal to them. He organized people, who were called Seekers, Seekers of the Truth, or Children of the Light, to sit quietly and wait upon the Spirit of God to call them to speak on spiritual matters. Fox himself was often called to speak, and his messages resonated with many of the English. He also rose to speak during worship services of the Church of England, angering the authorities enough to take him outside and beat him, later to jail him (and many of his followers). After a few years of religious rebellion, Fox tempered his acts enough to work diligently at organizing his followers into a new religious denomination.

5. How and when did the Quakers come from England to the United States?

Tired of persecutions, Quakers immigrated to the colonies, hoping to find tolerance. Unfortunately, many were persecuted here, too, until William Penn “bought” the land he would name Pennsyvania and began the great Quaker Experiment.

6. Is there a sacred writing that the Quakers use?

No. We have traditionally spoken of the “continuing revelation” of truth that can be found in many writings, one of which is the Bible.

7. What social issues do Quakers support? Which issues do they oppose?

Quaker testimonies speak to our concern for social life. Simplicity calls us to temper our material acquisitions and seek to avoid unnecessary complications. Peace calls us towards nonviolence. Integrity calls us to speak the truth plainly without oaths. Community calls us to value the strength of community above power. Equality calls us to respect the rights and wisdom of all people and cultures. Some think that we are also moving towards another testimony: earthcare, which calls us to conservation.

8. Explain the Quaker philosophy on war.

If there is an Inner Light of God inherent in all people, then killing another human being is killing that of God within that person. Therefore, many Quakers believe that there is no legitimate occasion for war, and with the advent of nonviolence as a strategy for confronting evil and abuses of power, most Quakers are strong advocates of nonviolence strategies as an alternative to war. (The “War is Not the Answer” yard signs you see in Memphis and other cities are distributed though the Friends Committee on National Legislation.)

9. We also researched William Penn. Tells us more about him.

William Penn believed that Quakers could start a different kind of state. Thus, he “bought” the land named Pennsylvania from both the English authorities and the Native Americans who lived in the land the English claimed was their own. In this way he established friendly relations with both “owners” of the land. Quakers were then invited to establish a colony that would be governed by Quaker principles (or testimonies). Philadelphia itself means “City of Brotherly Love.” This “Quaker Experiment” was assimilated into the broader American culture, but it continues to influence us in subtle ways today, not the least of which is our American tendency towards openness (which has some roots in the openness of Friends).

10. We know that Quakers were persecuted. Are there historical incidents you recall? Do you feel that Quakers are discriminated against in modern times?

Mary Dyer was burned at the stake in Newport, RI, in the 1600s for merely being a Quaker and refusing to convert to the Puritan ideals. It was totally unjust by almost anyone’s standards. Quakers were often thrown into jail for refusing to be sworn into a court of law. (They argued that we should tell the truth at all times, and the act of swearing to tell the truth implies that we sometimes don’t or that we will tell more of the truth after swearing in.) Because authorities tired of jailing good people for such a trivial crime when they knew they would tell the truth anyway, laws were changed so that, to this day, no one is forced to be sworn into a court of law (you may affirm that you will tell the truth).

11. How do Quakers worship?

We enter into a circle of worshippers, sit down and be quiet, waiting on a spiritual inspiration. If one is moved by the spirit, he or she may speak, sing, pray, read, or even dance (almost all messages are merely verbal). We worship for an hour, and at least 90% of that time is usually in silence. All are welcome to attend, and anyone is free to “minister” to the meeting if he or she feels inspired to share a message. Meetings for worship end when the clerk shares hands with close-by worshippers and others shake hands and say hello. Then announcements are shared until the clerk calls for worshippers to rise.

12. How are meeting houses different then a typical church?

They are very simply furnished and chairs are in a circle. There is no front and back.

13. How often do the Quakers meet?

In Memphis every Sunday from 11 am to noon at 3387 Walnut Grove Road and Prescott.

14. What holidays are the most important to Quakers?

Traditionally none are, but most Quakers celebrate Christmas or other traditional holy days. There is no plan for worship to be different during holiday times.

15. Do Quakers have any restriction on diet or lifestyle in comparison to other faiths?

Not really, although the testimony of simplicity might call some Quakers to own less things, or the testimony of peace is often expressed by a Quaker living on so little income that he or she will not be taxed. To some the peace testimony calls them to not eat meat.

16. Explain and discuss the three branches of the Quaker faith.

As I understand it, the Hicksites and Wilburites split off over disputes over the importance of the Bible. The Hicksites took a more open-minded approach to religion, and the Wilburites were more inclined to emphasize discipline and lines of authority. These two branches have essentially merged again. The third branch was the development of pastoral meetings, now called Friends Churches, which have mostly programmed worship services led by a “Recorded Minister.” The closest Quaker Church is in DeWitt, Arkansas, where I grew up. There are more Quakers in North Carolina and Kenya than any other places, mainly because there are more Quaker Churches in those two locales, for having a minister often helps a church grow in ways that meetings without ministers do not accomplish so easily (paid ministry is often more efficient).

17. How did the name Society of Friends come to be?

Early Quakers were called “Seekers of the Truth” and “Friends of the Light.” Because they wanted to distinguish themselves from churches (Fox called them “Steeple Houses”), they called their organized body a society. The informal name Quakers is said to have arisen from a comment a judge made upon having to preside over the trial of more Quakers for trivial offenses of conscience (like not taking their hats off in the courtroom). He looked at them and said, “I quake at having to do this again.” The other tale it that after speaking passionately in meetings for worship, the speakers would often sit down and shake or quake (which is a common human experience when one speaks about something he or she feels deeply about–hence we might all be Quakers!).

18. Is there a difference between the treatment of men and women in the Quaker faith?

Not intentionally, nor is there a difference in the treatment of races, or people of different faith backgrounds who convert, or of gays and lesbians.

19. Explain the Testimonies of Faith.

In my opinion, all of the testimonies follow logically from the manner of worship. Worship is meant to be Simple, Peaceful, Honest (Integrity), with Equal authority among all worshippers, lifting up the Community spirit to test and affirm individual messages. Personally, I think it all begins with a faith that fundamentally means openness, not belief, but radical openness to life and others.

20. Do Quakers support higher education? What areas of study are most important to Quakers?

There are many Quaker schools and colleges, and, in my experience, most Quaker meetings are full of very well educated people. Most Quakers are particularly supportive of education that is meant to lift up higher values and change what is wrong in our society and world.

21. When did the Quakers first come to Memphis? How were they treated?

The first gathering of Quakers known in Memphis was a group that began in the 1950s. A Monthly Meeting was established at the Chisca Hotel downtown in September 1957. This meeting was lain down in the late 1960s, resurrected in the 1970s, lain down in the late 1970s, and resurrected again in 1984. In 1987 the Memphis Friends Meeting was reestablished as a Monthly Meeting affiliated with the Southern Appalachian Yearly Meeting and Association, and it has survived and thrived for over twenty years since then. Quakers, to my knowledge, have never complained about their treatment, although there is a long-standing concern with race relations in Memphis and the South.

22. Where does the current congregation of Quakers worship?

3387 Walnut Grove Road and Prescott.

Ron McDonald, Clerk

Memphis Friends Meeting

October 14, 2009

Cat Nip

Cat Nip

I have a confession to make.

Our oldest cat, Crisco (who is snow white), was bugging us constantly up until a month ago. She was overweight, weak, shedding, and pulling out her hair, leaving our house and clothes cluttered with cat hair. She wasn’t affectionate, either, so if I petted her I might get bitten.

A month ago she ran outside—she had been an indoor-outdoor cat and still went out for a little bit from time to time. This time she didn’t return, and, frankly, I was relieved. I gave her up for dead or adopted by some animal rescuer.

Yesterday morning as I walked to my car to drive to work, I found myself saying a prayer for our animals, thinking particularly about Crisco. That night I came home late from work and heard meowing on our neighbor’s roof. It was Crisco. At first I thought, “Oh, no. I was not really missing her.” But I did my duty, climbed up on the roof, and brought her down and into our house. I was shocked at how much lighter she was, how dirty she was, how old she seemed, and how obviously relieved she was to be in my arms and in our home. I was just as surprised at how happy I’ve been to have her back home.

I told Susan today of my joy, and she said I ought to feel some guilt over how happy I acted with her departure. I laughed and said I’m just not one to feel very guilty over animals. So my confession is not that I wanted Crisco gone, it’s that until yesterday and today I didn’t know how much I care about her.

In fact, I think she might be about to die, which I’m not afraid of. What I’m most happy about is that the death I imagined—hit by a car, mangled by a dog—didn’t happen. She will probably die in our care now.

I wish she could tell us how she lived for a month with little food, little quickness or strength. I asked my neighbor if he has noticed critters in his attic. He had, thinking it was a squirrel.

My prayer had been answered, but in a different way than I imagined. The answer was that I really did care, and I’m glad she’s back, even if it is to die.

Postscript: Around the first of October, Crisco began to grow progressively weaker She stopped eating and drinking completely on October 8. By October 11 she could walk about 10 feet before lying back down to rest. Everytime I touched her, though, she purred. Finally, on October 12 she crawled into our pantry, and as I placed towels around her to help her feel comfortable and even more confined in the small, dark space, she faintly purred. Susan and I shared a tearful prayer later before going to sleep. That night she died.

Good Grief

Good Grief

(from Memphis Friends Newsletter, September 2009)

When Susan’s mother, Jean, lived near us for the last year and a half of her life, every week we’d take her out to eat and she always ordered shrimp and a Manhattan Up with no cherry. To this day we can’t eat shrimp without thinking of Jean. Sometimes the thoughts are happy; sometimes melancholy.

At a recent lecture/discussion on grief I was asked to consider that the work of grief does not end but has this very quality of remembering for the rest of our lives. The speaker, Bruce Rogers-Vaughn, who has lost a child, suggested that we do not “work through” grief in the sense of accepting the loss and moving on. Instead, we remember over and over again in ways that remind us that the love we felt for that person never dies. In fact, it has a way of deepening the more we remember. It is as though love is more evident to us in the absence of the loved one.

More importantly, the more we remember those whom we love so deeply, the more we experience a paradox of God’s love. We most profoundly feel the need for the love of God when we feel its absence most. Anne Lamott (author of Traveling Mercies, Grace, and other books on faith) says that the most fundamental prayer we have is “Help me! Help me! Help me!” We breathe that prayer when help seems most absent, when hurt is most dominant, when grief is deepest—when the God that we think would keep us from suffering isn’t doing very well.

Theologian Paul Tillich said that when this God who is supposed to be on our side isn’t working anymore, there is a God above God that rises up and helps us. But this help isn’t tangible like some preachers promise. (“Give to our church and God will bless you.”) Instead, it is experienced in much the way messages were conveyed in a recent First Day worship: when the plan goes wrong, let it be, and a new and better way will open. Tillich said that it is as though a voice speaks to us and says, “You are accepted by something you cannot name.” In response, you are not required to do anything, think anything, believe anything, but only to accept acceptance.

I once saw my dog hit and killed on the highway beside me. Spontaneously I fell to my knees, lifted my arms, and shouted, “No!” Later, struck by this expressive pose, I realized that I had expressed my love for that dog in that exclamation. In the “No!” I had talked with the God of love, not the God that was supposed to protect my dog from harm. The God that lets our lives be messed up is a constant disappointment, but there is a God of love that rises out of the ashes.

Though we fall apart when we feel deep grief, grief puts us back together by leading us to the very thing we want to avoid—remembering. The curse of painful memories help us affirm the beauty of the love we felt and still feel.

Once, trying to speak about my grief upon the death of beloved neighbor, I choked up, and couldn’t say but one thing, “I’m glad I let myself love him.” I wasn’t even sure why I would say that when it hurt so badly, but I did. Then someone reminded me, “To love someone is to open an unhealable wound.” Which is true, I think; but I’m still glad I love.

Ron McDonald