Tag: emotional pain

Maundy Thursday (Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment
Washing of the Feet, by John August Swanson, 2000

I love the Lord because he has heard
    my voice and my supplications.
Because he inclined his ear to me,
    therefore I will call on him as long as I live….

What shall I return to the Lord
    for all his bounty to me?
I will lift up the cup of salvation
    and call on the name of the Lord;
I will pay my vows to the Lord
    in the presence of all his people.
Precious in the sight of the Lord
    is the death of his faithful ones.
O Lord, I am your servant;
    I am your servant, the child of your serving girl.
    You have loosed my bonds.
I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice
    and call on the name of the Lord.
I will pay my vows to the Lord
    in the presence of all his people,
in the courts of the house of the Lord,
    in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the Lord! (New Revised Standard Version)

“Pain and suffering have come into your life, but remember pain, sorrow, suffering are but the kiss of Jesus — a sign that you have come so close to Him that He can kiss you.”

Mother St. Térèsa of Calcutta (1910-1997)

There is more to the passion of Christ than sheer suffering and sorrow; the Via Dolorosa is, paradoxically, also the road to joy.

Yes, suffering is painful and unpleasant. Yet, since we all must suffer in some way, the real issue is whether our suffering is meaningless or has purpose to it. We are able to bear our suffering if we are confident that a redemptive outcome is at the end of it.

The Lord Jesus submitted to suffering because he knew that all the mockery, torture, and abuse was the pathway to deliverance for humanity.

Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people; then you won’t become weary and give up. (Hebrews 12:2-3, NLT)

Since Jesus has gone before us, enduring shame so that it could be put to death in us, we are able to live free from guilt and the ignominy of sin. What’s more, Christ’s suffering gives shape and meaning to our own suffering.

“I cannot but wonder at the virtue that lies in suffering; we are worth nothing without the cross. I tremble and am in an agony while it lasts, and all my conviction of its salutary effects vanish under the torture, but when it is over, I look back at it with admiration, and am ashamed that I bore it so ill.”

François Fénelon (1651-1715)

On this Maundy Thursday, we remember that in the midst of suffering there is the hope of glory, and in the center of pain there is the confident expectation that it will be used as the fertilizer to help love grow and bloom in the dormant places of this world.

“Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds have forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love.”

St. Thérèse of Lisieux (1873-1897)

There cannot be love without suffering; to love is to sacrifice on behalf of another.

Because we live in a broken world full of pride and hubris, greed and avarice, hate and envy, we are victims of loveless systems and unjust actions. We need love to rescue and redeem us from the sheer muck of existential guilt and shame, evil and injustice.

Christians around the world are journeying through Holy Week, the most sacred time of the year for followers of Christ. When we think about Holy Week, we are familiar with Good Friday and certainly Easter, but Maundy Thursday? 

On this day, the Church remembers the final evening Jesus shared with his disciples in the upper room before his arrest and crucifixion. The experiences in the upper room were highly significant because this was the last teaching, modeling, and instruction Jesus gave before facing the cross. Jesus was careful and deliberate to communicate exactly what was important to him: to love one another.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35, NIV)

Maundy Thursday marks three important events in Christ’s Last Supper with his disciples: 

  1. The washing of the disciples’ feet (the action of loving service)
  2. The instituting of the Lord’s Supper (the remembrance of loving sacrifice)
  3. The giving of a “new” commandment to love one another (the mandate of a loving lifestyle)

The message of Maundy Thursday is this: Jesus Christ loves me just as I am, and not as I should be. He loves me even with my dirty stinky feet, my herky-jerky commitment to him, and my pre-meditated sin. 

Today is a highly significant day on the Church Calendar and in the Christian Year – one which deserves to be observed, and an opportunity to remember the important words and actions of Jesus on our behalf. Through Jesus Christ we are to live always in love, modeling our life and ministry after him. 

“I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love.”

Mother Térèsa

In Christ, love is to characterize our life together as we proclaim God’s love in both word and deed. A watching world will take notice and desire to lay down their hate and animosity if the followers of Christ are deeply and profoundly centered in the love of God.

God our Father, you invite us to participate in the life, suffering, death, and resurrection of your Son. Inspire us by his service, and unite us in his love; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Expressing Grief (Lamentations 3:55-66)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment
An engraving of the prophet Jeremiah lamenting, 1937

I called on your name, Lord,
    from the depths of the pit.
You heard my plea: “Do not close your ears
    to my cry for relief.”
You came near when I called you,
    and you said, “Do not fear.”

You, Lord, took up my case;
    you redeemed my life.
Lord, you have seen the wrong done to me.
    Uphold my cause!
You have seen the depth of their vengeance,
    all their plots against me.

Lord, you have heard their insults,
    all their plots against me—
what my enemies whisper and mutter
    against me all day long.
Look at them! Sitting or standing,
    they mock me in their songs.

Pay them back what they deserve, Lord,
    for what their hands have done.
Put a veil over their hearts,
    and may your curse be on them!
Pursue them in anger and destroy them
    from under the heavens of the Lord. (New International Version)

Over the years of ministry, I’ve encountered a host of confessing Christians who did not know the book of Lamentations even existed in the Bible. Even more people, I have discovered, are unfamiliar with the word “lament.”

This anecdotal evidence is quite telling: It tells me that a large chunk of people in society don’t know what to do with themselves whenever they experience or encounter trauma, abuse, unwanted circumstances, death, or overwhelming situations.

It’s no wonder that so many of us are anxious, depressed, and emotionally struggling. To be overwhelmed means that we don’t have enough internal resources to match what’s going on with us externally. Being overwhelmed means being devastated or overpowered by several circumstances at once; and experiencing several emotions at once, including the feeling of estrangement from God and/or others.

The book of Lamentations is the prophet Jeremiah’s public expression of grief over the destruction of his home city of Jerusalem. King Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonian army invaded the land, broke down the city walls, razed the temple, killed many people, and took most of the rest into captivity. The experience, along with the atrocities committed, were overwhelming.

On top of all that, Jeremiah had proclaimed a message of judgment, prophesying what would happen – and it did. And after the Babylonians took over, the remaining people put much of their misplaced anger and grief on Jeremiah, making his situation even worse.

Lamentations of Jeremiah, by Marc Chagall, 1956

What would you do if you were Jeremiah?

In whatever way you might respond, I believe Jeremiah did precisely what was most needed: He called on the name of the Lord, he expressed his lament, and it was all more than a private affair – because we are able to still read his lamentation all these many centuries later.

To lament is to express our feelings and story of grief to another. Without doing so, we are spiritually and emotionally stuck. And if we remain stuck for too long, our grief comes out sideways, either hurting others or ourselves.

The general populace of the people didn’t deal with their grief, and didn’t lament their loss. Instead, they mocked Jeremiah, plotted against him, and insulted him. That’s what happens when we don’t grieve and lament.

Jeremiah, however, left the people in God’s hands, and didn’t take matters into his own hands. He did what he was supposed to do instead of lashing out on others: Crafted this book of Lamentations, which we have access to, and can read.

So, why don’t we?

There’s lots of reasons we don’t examine the book of Lamentations (and explore our own lament). The primary reason is fear:

  • Fear of our own emotions – getting lost in them and afraid we’ll never get out of them – so we construct elaborate thoughts and words of positivity, believing that it will shoo the difficult feelings away. But the truth is, it won’t. It only makes it worse. We can choose to courageously tell our story, to whomever we want, in as much or as little detail as we want.
  • Fear of getting hurt. We’ve already experienced a level of hurt we never thought was possible. It’s only human to want to keep as far away from hurt as we can. So, we keep tight-lipped, tell others that we’re fine (when we’re not), all in the belief that if we can shut others out, we can keep any more hurt from touching us. The problem is that when we do that, we also keep the love out that could and would come to us.
  • Fear of connection. Examining myself and exploring relationships with others sounds too risky. It’s fraught with emotion. Besides, we might reason, I don’t want to put my burdens onto someone else. So, we don’t face our grief. The feelings get buried and, over time, become gangrene of the soul, poisoning us. Like a nasty boil, our grief needs to be lanced, and plenty of peroxide put on the wound. And the right medicine is doing what Jeremiah did: lament our loss.
  • Fear of losing control. I might cry in front of others. I may get really angry and yell. I could go absolutely ape and do weird stuff around people. If I open up, it will be a Pandora’s box of releasing myself. In reality, this is a fear of vulnerability, of letting others see the true self. And since we may not like our true self to begin with, this makes things quite complicated. However, there is not another way. Yet, if we go down the narrow path of lament, we will find many comforters who are able to empathize with us in our suffering.

“Sometimes you have to get your behind in the past before you can put your past behind you.”

Mit Tdrahrhe

The place to begin is in offering our feelings of grief, and our emotional words of lament, to the God who is always ready and available to hear it. And, from there, we reach out to a trusted friend, relative, or faith leader and tell them our story. Eventually, we discover enough healing that we can then comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received. (2 Corinthians 1:3-11)

You can do this.

Almighty God, Father of mercies and giver of comfort: Deal graciously, we pray, with all who mourn; that, casting all their care on you, they may know the consolation of your love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

How Can the World Change? (Philippians 1:21-30)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment

For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me, yet I cannot say which I will choose. I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better, but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. Since I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, so that, by my presence again with you, your boast might abound in Christ Jesus because of me.

Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel and in no way frightened by those opposing you. For them, this is evidence of their destruction but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ but of suffering for him as well, since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have. (New Revised Standard Version)

I believe that one of the greatest tragedies of this contemporary age is that millions of people suffer in silence, alone, with nobody knowing what they’re going through. Countless others cry by themselves, even in public. It’s as if someone who is suffering or sad is a pariah whom we cannot get close to.

It is not supposed to be this way. Suffering by oneself is a tragedy. Suffering with others is a privilege. We are not only meant to be one in spirit when things are going well and it’s a joyous occasion; we’re also to maintain that close unity when the world seems to be falling apart and there are those who are profoundly hurting in either mind, spirit, or emotion.

A few years ago, I stood amongst a gathered group of people, most of whom I did not know.  I was there for a memorial service of a fellow colleague. She received the kind of news that no one wants to hear. In a matter of weeks, she was gone. Not every funeral I attend (or even officiate) is beautiful. This one was, and here’s why: It was a collective experience of both joy and sorrow.

I walked away from my friend’s remembrance with a clear conviction – one that had been percolating and forming within me for quite some time.

This conviction might seem exaggerated, yet it by no means is meant to be. It’s just what I have come to believe about the universal human experience.  It comes from the confidence and experience of a lifetime of observation and ministry.

It is neither merely a heartfelt sentiment nor a passing feeling. No, it really is a conviction, a firm principle or persuasion. It is this:

Crying with strangers in person has the power to change the world.

I think I’ve always known this. It just crystalized for me through that experience. After all, I have watched with awe the privilege of walking into a dying patient’s room, full of tearful family, and be with them in their pain.  The sharing of stories is powerful, eliciting both great joy, reminiscent laughter, and profound gratitude; as well as tremendous sorrow, grinding grief, and sad lament. 

Tears and celebration mix in a sacred alchemy producing a kind of care which transcends description.

It’s one thing to observe other’s joy and sorrow on the evening news, or even from afar. It is altogether a different reality to participate up close and personal. It’s something akin to watching a travel documentary on Yellowstone Park versus visiting the place in person; there’s just no comparison. 

Shared human experiences of suffering will nearly always translate into new and emerging capacities for empathy. And where empathy exists, there is hope for all humanity. 

Being with another person or group of people in their suffering creates a Grinch-like transformation in which our hearts suddenly enlarge. A single tear from a singular small little Who girl in Whoville had the power to penetrate years of hardness of heart and change what everyone thought was a shriveled soul full of garlic and gunk.

Said a different way: The spiritual and emotional heart of a human being is able to shrink or expand. It shrinks from spending far too much time alone and/or holding others at bay, at arms-length, while playing the armchair critic to those who are out rubbing shoulders with real flesh and blood people. 

The Grinch never went back to his isolation. Instead, he did what Whoville thought was the unbelievable: The Grinch fully participated in the joy of the community, up close and personal.  It was a full-bore holding of hands, singing, and eating – which illustrates a conviction I’ve held for a long time:

Hospitality, that is, showing love to outright strangers through celebrative participation with food and drink, has the power to change the world.

Hospitality cannot happen from afar. Sitting around the table with strangers and interacting with them is needed. It alters our perspectives so that we live our shared humanity. It is rather difficult to hate someone when you get to know them and discover their loves and joys, hurts and wounds.

This all leads toward asking one of the most fundamental and basic biblical questions that must be asked by every generation and considered by everyone who respects God and/or the Christian Scriptures:

Am I able to see the image of God in someone very different from myself?

The Christian doesn’t have to go very far to answer this one, at least from an objective cerebral perspective.  Jesus saw the humanity in everyone he encountered, from Jew to Gentile, from sinner to saint.  In fact, Jesus saw this image so deeply within another that he sat around the table and ate with people whom others saw as not worthy to eat with.  Jesus’ willingness to participate in the hospitality of strangers was downright scandalous.  It isn’t a stretch to say that it got him killed.

What’s more, Jesus wept. He cried in public with strangers. For followers of Christ who seek to emulate him in his practical ministry, that point ought to be noticed. After all, we choose to remember and participate in the life of Christ through the elements of bread and wine at the Table. God’s radical hospitality toward us is truly meant to translate to an open heart toward those who look and act differently than me.

The great fourteenth century mystic, Julian of Norwich, a female devotee of Christ and an influential theologian in her own right amongst a world of men who tended to see the image of God in women as flawed, understood what it would take to reawake image-bearing humanity. She stated:

“All that is contrary to peace and love — is in us and not in God. God’s saving work in Jesus of Nazareth and in the gift of God’s spirit, is to lessen our wrath in the power of his merciful and compassionate love.”

Julian of Norwich

Don’t think for a minute that suffering with and crying with strangers is an easy thing for me. Truth is, crying is not something I typically do, or even like to do. Yet, constrained by the love of God in Christ, and putting myself in a position to feel with the emotions of others in front of me, I allow those tears to come.

Yes, collective experiences of emotion have the power to change the world. Yet, this occurs only if we show up.  Perhaps that was the reason for the Christian doctrine of the incarnation: Jesus is our Immanuel, God with us, the One who is present.  He showed up, and salvation happened.

And that is what the Philippian Church needed to remember, tap into, and live as one Body of Christ for the life of the world.

Pain, Stress, and Chickens (Psalm 32)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment
A modern mosaic of a mother hen protecting her chicks—on the altar of Dominus Flevit Church on the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem

Oh, what joy for those
    whose disobedience is forgiven,
    whose sin is put out of sight!
Yes, what joy for those
    whose record the Lord has cleared of guilt,
    whose lives are lived in complete honesty!
When I refused to confess my sin,
    my body wasted away,
    and I groaned all day long.
Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me.
    My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat.

Finally, I confessed all my sins to you
    and stopped trying to hide my guilt.
I said to myself, “I will confess my rebellion to the Lord.”
    And you forgave me! All my guilt is gone.

Therefore, let all the godly pray to you while there is still time,
    that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgment.
For you are my hiding place;
    you protect me from trouble.
    You surround me with songs of victory.

The Lord says, “I will guide you along the best pathway for your life.
    I will advise you and watch over you.
Do not be like a senseless horse or mule
    that needs a bit and bridle to keep it under control.”

Many sorrows come to the wicked,
    but unfailing love surrounds those who trust the Lord.
So rejoice in the Lord and be glad, all you who obey him!
    Shout for joy, all you whose hearts are pure! (New Living Translation)

The body knows the truth of what is happening in the spirit. Our physical selves carry the weight of our mental thoughts and emotional feelings.

Our bodies have their way of making sounds of protest and pain if our spirits are silent. For example, physical weariness and tiredness can be a lighthouse, alerting us to pay attention to our inner suffering.

In other words, stated positively, pain and stress are a gift.

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

James Baldwin

What is stress?

Stress is any type of change that causes physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual strain. Stress is a normal reaction to everyday pressures. However, stress can become unhealthy when it upsets our daily functioning and ability to live well. Stress itself is neither good nor bad. The issue is the appropriate amount of tension we need to live a healthy life.

Where do you typically carry stress in your body?

Whenever we are under a great deal of stress – and are having difficulty either recognizing it or managing it – the body gives us clues about how to pay attention to that stress. Our mental, emotional, relational, and spiritual issues usually show up in the body as physical problems.

Why do individuals handle stress differently?

The combination of past trauma, abuse, and neglect within families and communities is unique to the individual – as well as variations in personality traits and inherited genetics.  In other words, how we deal with stress is a result of both nature and nurture.

What are some common connections between stress and the body?

  • Shoulders: Feeling overwhelmed through carrying the weight of the world’s problems.
  • Gut (stomach and intestines): Feeling anxious for not letting go of a problem.
  • Vomiting or diarrhea: Feeling emotionally sick about a situation and wanting to be rid of it once and for all.
  • Hemorrhoids or constipation: Straining or working very hard to make something happen in your life and it doesn’t come to pass.
  • Headache: Feeling afraid through overthinking that something bad will happen.
  • Chest/heart: Feeling angry or sad through either trauma or secondary trauma.
  • Lungs: Feeling suffocated, like you cannot breathe, because of difficult circumstances, e.g. asthma
  • Spine/knees/hips: Feeling discouraged and wanting to give up because you cannot take one more step.
  •  

How can I deal with my stress in a healthy way?

  1. Let go. Ask for help. Talk to God, as well as a friend, faith leader, or other about why you are stressed.
  2. Reach out. Connect with family members. Get involved in a faith community. Volunteer in an organization you care about.
  3. Eat well. Make healthy choices about food. Find someone or a group of people who share your nutrition goals.
  4. Meditate. Focus on the present moment because there is only now. Read Scripture. Pray.
  5. Walk. Take daily strolls through nature. Walk the dog. Walk with a friend. Walk with the Lord.
  6. Read. Read or listen to a good book. Do it with a cup of coffee or tea.

“The truth is that stress doesn’t come from your boss, your kids, your spouse, traffic jams, health challenges, or other circumstances. It comes from your thoughts about your circumstances.”

Andrew Bernstein

The psalmist went on to release his silence and give voice to his spiritual stress and emotional pain, thus finding relief.

Who is the stress reliever?

God. The Lord is akin to a mother hen who protects her chicks.

My youngest daughter once had a pet chicken named “Gina” (I have no idea why she named the chicken this). Gina would lay an egg or two and keep them warm and nestled underneath herself. Indeed, the eggs were in a special hiding place, protected from outside forces.

My daughter also sang to Gina (which helped her to lay more eggs) and made sure she had plenty of space to find grubs, worms, shrews, and other delectables from the ground. Gina wasn’t the only pet chicken; there were others, too. Chickens are very social and require other chickens to be happy; a solitary hen is likely to not lay any eggs, at all.

Whenever we are “chicken” and run about with anxiety and fear, God gathers us together with other believers, protects us from trouble, surrounds us with songs of deliverance, and makes sure we have everything we need for life and godliness in this present age.

The Lord will take care of us – no matter the situation, the stress, or the pain it produces.

Blessed heavenly Father and Mother Hen, your Divine presence, power, provision, and protection gives us grace and truth. May this season of Lent – a time of repentance and faith – bring us the blessing of your forgiveness and the joy of salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.