What kind of New Life?

 Happy Easter. We say it so quickly, like the greeting, Hi, How are you? We don't expect anyone to really tell us how they are. We say it because, well, it's what we say when we see someone!

I think the same can be said of Easter and resurrection and Jesus in general. We've become accustomed to the accounts given to us, the message we are supposed to take from it, and therefore, Happy Easter!

I'd like to suggest something a little different today. When you think of Easter and resurrection, I'd like you to think of recovery. A specific recovery, from emotional and verbal abuse.

If you have suffered from these, you know the damage it does. Robin Stern, in his book, "The Gaslight Effect: How to Spot and Survive the Hidden Manipulation Others Use to Control Your Life" includes some of the signs of gaslighting:

* No longer feeling like the person you used to be

*Being more anxious and less confident than you used to be

*Often wondering if you're being too sensitive

*Feeling like everything you do is wrong

*Apologizing often

*Having a sense that something's wrong, but being unable to identify what it is

*Feeling isolated from friends and family

*Finding it increasingly hard to make decisions

These are just some of the signs. I think the biggest consequence of gaslighting is a loss of confidence in self. When you leave the situation of abuse, you don't automatically and suddenly gain that back. 

That's where the Easter story comes in. Is Jesus just redeeming us from sin? Or are there other interpretations for his resurrection? Like healing from trauma?

Healing from trauma is a slow process. With confidence, it means learning to speak up when someone says something you don't agree with. It means believing your decision is the right one, without constant second-guessing. It means being able to say no and not give an explanation. It means being able to make a mistake, and not feel the world has ended or you are being judged. It means believing in yourself enough that outside criticism does not take it away.

Jesus shows us the way. Patience. Acceptance. Healing. His resurrection story is also a story of healing from the passion of abuse. 

A new way to celebrate Holy Week

Holy Week. A week of remembering, of solemn ceremonies, and of reflection and silence.

Only, not for me. Not this year.

Having lived the heavily ceremonied days of Holy Week in the monastery, I find it hard to think of these sacred days spent without being in church as one reflects and engages in the lessons and silence of services.

But I could not. My profession as a therapist on the road meant I was traveling both Holy Thursday and Good Friday. All day.

On Holy Thursday I thought: Well, if a client cancels, I'll take that hour to stop by a local church and spend the time in quiet prayer.

No one canceled.

So as I drove from home to home, and as I sat with client after client, I thought of the service at my church. I thought especially of the custom they have of the washing of the feet. It is done in silence, with the organ playing something appropriate, with everyone encouraged to come up and have their feet washed. I was moved the first time I went there because in the monastery, we all got our feet washed by the prioress. I had never seen it done in the local church. I was thrilled to be able to participate.

As I sat there with clients with this memory in the back of my mind, I yearned to be in a different place, in the church, getting my feet washed, smelling the incense, hearing the bells, seeing the candles.

And then I thought, but I am "washing feet" by listening to one client after another, offering the towel of empathy and compassion. That thought sustained me as I drove from house to house, missing the "ceremonies" of that day and instead living it out in real life.

On Good Friday, I had to schedule in two more clients, giving me ten total. It would be a long day.

I had been nourished on Thursday by being mindful, so I maintained the attitude of service,  and let my work with clients be my Stations of the Cross, my remembrance of the Passion, and my silent reflection.

I sat with a mom who had lost her son. She was struggling. As I sat next to her, her tears flowing, I was reminded of Mother Mary standing at the foot of the cross as she gave Jesus back to the Father. I was reminded of how we all have our piece of the Passion.

I am going to the Holy Vigil service. I will be in a church, enjoying the sight of the new fire, listening to the singing of the chant, smelling the incense and enjoying the services wholly. I will be enjoying age old traditions and ceremonies as I join in the celebration of the Easter mystery.

But I know now, I can celebrate these things, even if I am not in the church. I can celebrate it by my own awareness. I can celebrate it as I remember.

Easter - a time of mystery

Easter. A time of mystery. A time when light shines, and we see things differently. It comes from the darkness of the Passion, from suffering, and from not knowing. It is true, that I appreciate light more when I have experienced darkness. That I appreciate resurrection better when I have known suffering.

John Shea speaks to this in his book Story of God, where he quotes Kazantzakis's description of mystery. It is, he says, the luminous interval between two darknesses. He then notes that when the reliability of all we have constructed is brought into question, we enter the dimension of Mystery (25).

In our desire to know, to be in the light, we forget that unknowing can contain something positive and fulfilling. This is the difference between faith, and having a vague spirituality with no particular beliefs.

This is not an attempt to put a good spin on pain and injustice, emotional distress and suffering. Rather, it is how we make sense of it. For as much as we don't like to admit it, we do not find the depth of our soul until our world falls apart. That experience helps us realize that what has up till now proven good enough is no longer sufficient, and we seek something better.

Shea speaks at some length about the need for our ready answers and expectations to fail. He says Disenchantment is a traditional and well-established path to the awareness of Mystery...the beginning of mature religious consciousness (28-29). Shea's statement is obvious: I suspect every one of us can look back over the times in our lives when we entered into a new spiritual consciousness, and can track it to some form of disenchantment we experienced.

Mystery. It is not something to be feared, but something that invites us to enter more deeply. And only after we enter, do we discover.

And isn't that what Easter is all about?

Who do I see?

The Easter story is not just about resurrection. It is also a story about seeing and unseeing, about understanding and misunderstanding. It is a story about the ability to grow and change.

I love to think of Mary Magdalen going to the tomb, intent on anointing the body of Jesus. She does not stop to consider whether she can roll the huge stone away, or how she will get past the soldiers who are guarding the place. She goes thinking only of honoring the body of Jesus. When she finds the tomb empty, she runs to tell the disciples, who come, look and then leave.

Mary Magdalen does not leave. She stays in the garden and weeps. She does not know where Jesus is, so she stays at the place she last saw him. He was dead, but he was there. And when Jesus reveals himself to her, she does not recognize him.

There are many theories as to why Mary Magdalen does not recognize Jesus. Some say she was weeping and so tears blurred her vision. Some say she expected him dead, so did not recognize him alive. But regardless of the reason, the truth is, Mary looked straight at Jesus and called him the gardener (Jn 20:15).

I do the same thing. I look at people, situations, even my faith, and have a tendency to call it by another name. My judgements are not always true. I see, but not always what is there.

I believe this is Jesus main issue with the scribes and pharisees. They felt they could not make a mistake. They believed they knew. They said, "We see" when in fact, they were blind (Jn 9:41).

I must have a faith like Mary Magdalen, one that is attentive to my name being called, and my eyes being opened. To be aware I may make mistakes in judgments, or in perceptions.

Mary Magdalen accepted that she mistakenly called Jesus the gardener. She did not hesitate for one moment to accept that fact, and ran to embrace Jesus (Jn 20:16).

It is an example for me. For to see Jesus, I must sometimes admit, I have it wrong, I have judged falsely, I have failed to see.

Easter: a time of resurection

I have noticed that spiritual people can have a tendency to over spiritualize everything in life, as though somehow every act came straight from the hand of God. I am not speaking of those who see the hand of God in events, but rather to those who exclude the human element of life, the human struggle, the human dimension. And when we do that, we forget the human effort needed to rise above human tendency.

Easter is just one sort of event. Christians all believe that Jesus rose from the dead, a day glorious and offering profound hope of immortality. What we often forget is, Jesus too, as a human being, had a choice. Jesus rose because he could follow through with his calling, he could let go of the past and move forward to his destiny, he could unwrap the bindings that held him and step forth into the light.

Think for a moment of what might have happened had Jesus held on to the pain and suffering he endured. What if Jesus could not let go of his suffering and humiliation? What if he had gotten "stuck" in the memory of what had happened and could not move past that?

It is unimaginable to think of Jesus stuck in death. And yet, that is how I sometimes live; stuck in a bad memory, in anger and resentment. Stuck in my bad luck, bad choices, unfortunate incidents.

What good is it to believe in resurrection, in eternal life, if I cannot rise above events here on earth? What good is it to hope for heaven when I live life as though in a tomb? For when I am stuck, I cannot hear the call to come forth. I am, spiritually, stuck in death.

Jesus showed us the power of letting go when he stepped out of the tomb and into the light. He showed us the power of dropping our bindings and moving our sealed stone that keeps us imprisoned. He opened the sealed compartment of his tomb not by force, but by grace. Such is the power of letting go.

Jesus invites me to do the same. Easter is a reminder that eternal life starts here on earth, that rising begins with daily events, that each of us has a tomb requiring resurrection. Easter is a symbol for each one of us to come forth from the tomb of disappointments, disillusionment, judgements and resentments.I am called to live a resurrected life, to unwrap whatever binds me and holds me prisoner. I am called to grace, a grace that can perform powerful acts of God within my life, if I let go.

Let us each live resurrected, here and now, so that we witness to the power of believing.