Dysfunctional Families

Think you have a dysfunctional family?  Welcome to the club.  Almost all of us have some dysfunction.  Your education or zip code doesn't matter.  

When Jerry Springer has been criticized for his volatile TV show where the wives and girlfriends of their unemployed baby daddies go after each other with wrestling holds, Jerry reminds us that their problems are no different than celebrities featured in People and Esquire.

The place to find truly dysfunctional families is the Bible, especially the Old Testament.  Recently the sermons in my church have focused on the the term "Overcome".  They're designed, in part, to help us deal with our current unprecedented situation.

 They have zeroed in on Joseph.  Remember him?  The guy with the technicolored dream coat?  Joseph and his 11 brothers are the poster kids for dysfunction.  Not to mention his dad Jacob and his grandpa, Abraham.  All of their families were messed up.

Joseph's brothers were jealous of him and showed it by, first, trying to kill him, and next, selling him into slavery in Egypt.  Over their lifetimes they told monstrous lies, slept with their father's wife, and other relatives, slaughtered entire villages, etc.

And Joseph did some questionable stuff as well.  Besides being a spoiled brat, and a tattletale he turned his back on his father, married an Egyptian wife and framed his brothers.

So, what's the point?

My senior pastor, David Miller, told us how God was present in these circumstances, weaving a magnificent web of harmony,  peace and prosperity.  Not because of the bad behavior but despite it.

So there's hope for all of us.  Every single one of us.  Our past does not determine our future.  

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Moving' On Down the Road

This painting hangs over my couch.  It's big, 48 x 24 without the frame.  It's part of David's collection and it has a companion which  David  gave it to his son.  And his son's name is on the back in this painting for when I'm no longer in need of it. The artist is Tom Maakestad and its title is Highway 7, Maine.  My personal  title for it is Moving' On Down The Road.

In the companion piece there is a stop sign.  But no stop signs here, just a long windy road, reminding me of my own journey.

I'm currently way back there, closer to the horizon, but we can't see the end.  It's hidden.  It's mysterious.

In this weird, sometimes terrible some times exciting, sometimes over the top stressful (and all of this on the same day) time, I've been turning more and more to spiritual writings.  Have to be careful because some of it is dogmatic and some of it is crazy woo-woo but contemplating the mystery is what I enjoy doing these days.

Richard Rohr says in his book, Falling Forward , that Jesus reminded us there are two groups who want to avoid contemplating all this mysteriousness - the very rich and the very religious.  The gospels are full of these folks trying to get us to "follow the rules" and by that they mean their interpretation of the rules.  Jesus doesn't go for it.

 So now we're watching scary numbers of people die sometimes lonely and sometimes violent deaths - every single day -and it's hard to make sense of it.

Some of our great poets have entertained the mystery of the afterlife concept. For instance The Eagles huge hit song, "Hotel California" is a journey into the dark unknown we sometimes like to call Hell.  And what it takes to get there.  It's a terrifying look at the underbelly of excess, greed and materialism.

On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise
Bring your alibis

Last thing I remember
I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax," said the night man
"We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like
But you can never leave."

Ok, so I'm hopefully,  not on a dark highway.  I hope none of us are.  And I know, despite what the hotel night man says,  that if we are on the wrong highway, we can turn around anywhere along the way.  I know we've not done what we have needed to do about warding off dangerous diseases, about caring for our sick planet and about caring for our neighbors as ourselves.  But some of us have been trying.  And many more of us around the globe are waking up and, despite great suffering, doing the right thing.

Like you, I am horrified every day.  I am encouraged every day.

But, I am tired.  As Rohr says in finishing up Falling Upward:  In the second half of the spiritual life, you are not making choices as much as you are being guided, taught and led...you have found your sacred dance. 


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Here's a Clue

Today is June first, 2020.  All over the country and in cities around the world the "Black Lives Matter" protests are still going strong and, in some cases, escalating into violence.

For those of you who genuinely cannot understand why this is happening, especially during a world wide pandemic, here is poem written sixty plus years ago about a different but somewhat related issue.


HELLO SIXTIES

I shouted out the Emancipation
     Proclamation,
The Civil Right Act,
And the wording to the Equal Rights
     Amendment.

And you said, 
"Let's go to bed."

I joined an underground movement,
And plotted to overthrow the government. 

And you said, 
"You're cute when you're mad. 

I blew up your post office,
And half of your university.

And you said, 
"Are you having your period?"

With one fell swoop, 
I destroyed everything we both held dear. 

And you finally said, 
"Why are you doing this?"

I'M JUST TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION!"

                        - Cecily Crossman



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