Sermon: Hysterical strength

 

Sermon for September 6, 2015 / 5:30pm

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost 

(Proper 18)

The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse

St. Philip’s In The Hills, Tucson, AZ

Lord, open our lips, that our mouth shall proclaim your praise.  Amen

We have all heard stories

of mothers who pick up a car to save their baby,

or heroes who do incredible feats

to save someone who is in an accident.

In 2006 in Tucson, Tim Boyle watched

as a Chevrolet Camaro hit an 18-year-old.

The car pinned the young adult,

still alive, underneath.

Boyle ran to the scene of the accident and

lifted the Camaro off the teenager,

while the driver of the car pulled him to safety.[1]

This is just one of dozens of stories. 

Stories of well-documented feats

of what the medical community calls

“hysterical strength” – that

-- unnatural and amazing strength

tapped during high-stress situations.

These stories jar our sense of possibility.

This “hysterical strength” might be

what happened with the woman

in the gospel reading today. 

Jesus had left Jerusalem

and went away to the region of Tyre,

a Gentile, non-Jewish region, to get away. 

He did not want anyone to know he was there. 

The Syro-Phoenician woman

heard he was in the area and

sought him out immediately. 

She felt the horror of her daughter’s affliction

and was filled with fierce motherly love.

She approached Jesus and

begged him to cast out the demon

from her daughter.

And then, she heard, “No.” 

From Jesus.  She heard, “No.”

Have you ever heard a “No” from Jesus

in your life?  Or sensed a “No”? 

It seems so out of character! It seems so unfair.

Sometimes, we seem to hear

a “no” from God when we ask for help

in the midst of our struggle while

nothing seems to soothe us.

Sometimes, we don’t even ask;

Thinking that we are not worthy

to ask for our needs –

maybe we feel we are not holy enough,

since we can’t come to church every Sunday,

or we forget to pray every day.

Sometimes, we might feel that

our struggle seems so minor

compared to the horrors we hear about:

the striking SunTran employees;

out of work on Labor Day.

the refugee crisis in Europe

(and in our own country)

… people fleeing a deadly life

in their own country and

are turned away at the borders,

the struggle of race relations in our country,

shown by high percentage

of Af Am’s in prison

compared to the general population,

the death of endangered species

threatened by climate change

We wonder –

why would God even bother with our little pain? 

So we hear “No.”

Or we think we hear “No.”

But is it possible, that it is a “not yet,”?

Is it possible that we simply have not recognized

how God is doing a new thing?

The Syro-Phoenician woman heard “not yet.”

Standing near Jesus, she came and bowed down. 

Near him, she found a hysterical strength

to respond to Jesus, who engaged in a

verbal sparring match.

And with her phrase of equal strength and power,

the woman expresses her gritty faith;

she did not take his “No.” 

She made Jesus reconsider

what “faith” looks like. 

He noticed her persistence.

He noticed her hopeful insight.

He noticed her trusting acceptance.

àHere, Jesus recognized the woman’s argument

as stronger than his own and

he granted her petition.

àHere, Jesus reframed faith as –

clinging to Jesus,

expecting him to hear, to restore, to save. 

It is demanding he do

what he says he is going to do. 

The woman,

fueled by her hysterical strength,

knew that Jesus

would never turn away

anyone who seeks help.

This encounter recalls

the story in John’s gospel

at the wedding in Cana. 

Mary, Jesus’ mother,

insists that since there is no wine,

that he is to do something. 

“Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?

My hour has not yet come.”

Yet, he does do something and

changed the jars of water into wine. 

This was the first of his signs,

revealing his glory.

In today’s story,

another women pushes him

with hysterical strength of wit

to cross boundaries

of gender, religion and ethnic origins,

to heal her daughter. 

He was just trying to get away,

but instead, he changed his mind.

He healed the woman’s child.

The miracle here is not just

the demon extraction,

but also the overcoming of

prejudices and boundaries

for his love.

Jesus knew that he could never

turn away anyone who seeks help –

even those “gentiles” –

the non-Jew population of the world.

And so it is with us.  Next to Jesus, we, too,

find in our community of faith

a tenacity, a wisdom, a wit. 

Next to Jesus, in our community of faith,

we find a hysterical strength. 

For example, from our own community,

Early on, the

“Border and Immigration” ministry team

heard a “No” from the community.

There was debate about

where the community might support

 – or not – the refugees and immigrants

from our nearby border. 

Yet as the ministry team continued

to pray and discern and be tenacious,

hearts softened and opened up

to realize our role and

the possibilities to which God is calling us. 

Our community began to find healing

through the presence of Jesus

and monthly prayer vigils, border visits and sewing efforts.

Not all the problems have been solved,

but many hearts have been transformed

and God’s redemption is making way.

In another example, our own community engaged

“After School Music (and homework) Program”

that supports children of two

nearby elementary schools. 

At these schools,

nearly all the children qualify for free lunch

due to their poverty. 

Through prayer and presence near Jesus,

our community

discerned a need to transform

hearts through serving these kids. 

Again this year,

we will have 22 children and 50 volunteers

each weekday to make a difference

in each others’ lives.

Not all the poverty problems have been solved,

but many hearts have been transformed

and God’s redemption is making way.

Coming up on October 31, you, too,

can stand in the presence of Jesus –

in this community. 

On that Saturday,

our community will engage in prayer,

dreaming of ways we can live into

our vision for St. Philip’s. 

How do we do that? 

Like the Syro-Phoenician woman, we persist.

We express hopeful insight.

We demonstrate trusting acceptance. 

We dream of bringing about

God’s redemptive powers to heal the world.

All voices matter in this discussion;

we hope you will participate.

The good news today is that

God’s hyperactive strength embues us

with courage and hope and tenacity. 

God heals and reconciles and offers wholeness

to you and to me and to our community. 

For when we are held together

by the nearness of Jesus,

here at the Eucharistic table,

we can recognize new possibilities

in a truly abundant world. 

Amen.

---

[1] Cited at http://entertainment.howstuffworks.com/arts/circus-arts/adrenaline-strength.htm#.VenTkW1oXQk.mailto on September 5, 2015

PK

One of my colleagues is a Preachers' Kid. Yes, the apostrophe is in the right place.

Not only his father, but also his mother was a preacher. She exceeded all manner of educational requirements (MDiv, DMin, PhD) for her pastoral ministry. Father preached and she ran the church (women can't be ordained in "that" denomination).

My colleague, we'll call him Pierre, explained that dinner time conversation in their house was not, he knew, normal. Who else is arguing about the conjugation of verbs in Hebrew or in Greek? Who else threw around theological discussions about the meaning of Revelations as easily as discussing the weather?

Pierre explained to me that he learned over the years to never say never. "I'll never go to University of Alabama, yuck... are you kidding?" Where did he end up attending? University of Alabama. "I'll never live in Atlanta, are you kidding?" Where did he end up living after he met his now-wife? Atlanta. "I'd never take a part time job doing fundraising!" Where did we just spend the last 11 weeks? Fundraising for United Way.

He shared with me, in a tender moment at our last celebration gathering, that his father, who was otherwise very verbose, gave him sage advice before he died. "Son," he said when Pierre announced his engagement to the now-Mrs., "Be patient." Yea, yea, Dad, I know. Be patient. "No,BE patient." Yea, yea, Dad, I know. "No, BBBBEEEE patient. As in the Greek, BE is BECOMING. BE patient." Yea, yea, Dad. Okay!

A year or so later, when Mrs. Pierre was pregnant with baby #1, she scolded Pierre for some random, benign act of carelessness. She yelled at him. What crossed his mind? BEcome PATIENT.

This is really Pierre's story but it has stuck with me.

And as I step into what's next for me, I'm taking Dad's advice, to BEcome patient. With me, with my life, with God, with others.

What are you BEing in this moment?

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Ephesians 4:2

Timed Release

"She just had her first birthday. Look at how pretty she is! That's her older brother..."

One of my colleagues was showing me pictures of her children. Beautiful faces, awash in flushed cheeks and joy and smiles. Mom described for me how blessed she felt that her little Miss J lived. She was the miracle baby, she said.

Why?

Mom tells me about her baby girl: Born a year ago at 28 weeks. She was just over one pound at birth weight. She shares her story: Miss J was in the NICU for two months. Her experience of the dark, whispery ambiance punctuated by sudden beeping of vital sign alarms filled her soul with fear. Her comfort was her parental companions and the continued hope that Miss J would survive all this. Her darkest day was when Miss J had a "brady event" - when her breathing and heart stop - common for preemies. This usually means simply an extra dose of caffeine for the little one.

The NICU is a strange, sacred place. I've spent many dark-ish days there, written about one such interaction here and used more than one interaction in my case-studies and supervision sessions. It's impossible to be in that environment and not have it effect me at the cellular level.

Which is why, when my colleague shared her joy of Miss J's first birthday, I felt a redemption. I sensed a familiarity with her story. Then I realized it was the anniversary of my first preemie death-experience in the NICU. It was one year ago that a precious little 28-week old little Mr. M went into arrest. The evening moved in slow motion as I companioned little Mr. M's mom through his death, a ritual washing and blessing, and unspeakable intimate moments that will remain in my soul for ever.

In my conversation with my colleague today, I felt a timed-release breath of gratitude for Mr. M, for that moment one year ago, and a sense of perspective.

Sacred moments, indeed - the very edge of life and death on one thread.

How are you experiencing time-release sacredness in this moment?

...Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too." Luke 2:34-35

Conviction

One of our colleagues quit this week.

Here's why. One of the agencies funded by UW of Asheville & Buncombe County is the local chapter of the Boy Scouts of America. As you may know, there is controversy around the national BSA discrimination policies.

"...In June 2000, the United States Supreme Court ruled that New Jersey public law violated the Boy Scouts of America's First Amendment right of expressive associate and ...is therefore entitled to establish their own exclusionary membership criteria...."

The website that describes the discrimination says that since the 1970's, the central issue of their exclusionary policy is "...the "3 G's" (gays, girls and the godless)..." (Those are fightin' words!)

In other words, the BSA can legally discriminate against gays.

Every United Way is locally organized and some have disassociated with the BSA and not funded any programs. However, as my colleague learned after researching it further, UWABC believes that the program offered by the Asheville-based BSA creates important results in our community. Results that impact educating children and meet the Education, Income and Health needs established by the over 100 community-based expert volunteers earlier this year.

This decision was not taken lightly - not the UWABC's decision to fund BSA of Asheville, not my colleague's decision to quit, not our team's decision to support her and not our individual efforts to confront our own allegiance to the UW of ABC.

Several of us decided to "undesignate" our gifts - that is, to say that we support our moneys going to the Community Fund, as long as NONE of our gift goes to the BSA programs. I'm sure that will create some accounting nightmare for the accounting department, but this was how I was able to live with myself.

Perhaps these pledge cards might raise the awareness at the board level of UWABC to be more discerning next year when funding programs. I give to the UWABC because I believe in a strong community. And, I cannot support discriminatory practices. For me, this was how I live into my conviction with love and compromise.

My colleague, however, felt that she would not be living in integrity to continue in this work. Her conviction was deeply felt in her heart, guts and being. I honor her efforts and learned a lot from her modeling living into what is "right" for her. I will miss her gifts and her grace on our team even as I support her doing what she needed to do.

Keep your eyes open, hold tight to your convictions, give it all you've got, be resolute, and love without stopping. 1 Corinthians 16:13 (The Message)

How is conviction showing up in this moment, for you?

All Bets Are Off

In our chaplaincy work, we have all been working on "getting in the hole" with patients. (See EM's blog about this and NR's too.) I think this phrase comes from the idea that when someone is suffering, they are in a hole of sorts. Well-meaning friends and family may walk passed the hole and say how it will get better, or ask what it's like down there, or say 'call me when you can,' but few actually get down in the hole and invite the suffering person to share, really share, what it is like.

It's a dark, dingy place that hole. It takes guts and honesty and rigor to get there. And, when we are fully present to one another's suffering, the emotional connection dissipates the suffering and Spirit's healing can be brought to bear. It takes time and trust.

That is to say, instead of feeling "sympathy" or feeling "sorry" for the care seeker, we chaplains have been learning (and pushed by our supervisor) the experience of empathy, where we really connect at the feelings level. For me, this is one of my growing edges - this art of getting-in-the-hole.

I continue to be baffled by my need to dodge the deep emotional issues. I have found an enormous capacity to change the subject or not invite God’s spirit or even my own sense of self to the moment to inform how to share the person’s feelings. As a learning edge, I know that I need to stay aware and awake to how I am feeling, right then, right there and try to connect with the patient.

The other day, I visited with a patient who was down in a dark hole. I sat in a chair across from her and listened about her situation. She was very animated and as I found myself getting in the hole with her, she became more animated, angry, talkative and agitated. I felt that same way! As I encouraged her to say more about how she was feeling, she pulled me right into the hole.

I felt like I was making progress... until...thankfully, a nearby therapist came over, tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to step out for a minute. Folks with this type of mental illness, he shared, will do anything they can to get you to buy into their feelings. People with this diagnosis often have highly unstable patterns of social relationships and may switch unexpectedly to the another extreme, angrily accusing the other person of not caring at all.

Here I thought that I was getting in the hole with her and it might actually help. Trouble is, I was completely manipulated to get in the hole and was on the border of becoming the target for this patient's anger. Basically, all bets are off in terms of getting in the hole with patients on this unit. Mr. Therapist recommends letting this kind of patient "roll off you like water off a duck." Oh, this goes so against my training and my nature.

This unit will definitely challenge me. When I think that I am "connecting" with a patient, I cannot ever assume it had anything to do with my newly honed art of getting-in-the-hole. Surely, I will begin to experience a different way of being with patients through this rotation that will be different from all other units.

The crowd rebuked them and told them to be quiet, but they shouted all the louder, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!" Jesus stopped and called them. "What do you want me to do for you?" he asked. "Lord," they answered, "we want our sight." Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed him. - Matthew 20:31-34

How are you changing your approach, in this moment?

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Apologies for using this quite common phrase in a new way. This post has nothing to do with the military's policy on homosexuality. That said, I think it captures what I learned the other day in Behavioral Health.

Don't ask if you really don't want to know. Don't tell if you really don't want them to know.

So, in our chaplain training we learned about some simple questions we might often ask a patient when assessing their understanding of their possible stroke. We chaplains receive a printed notice to go talk to a patient about their stroke and we go to assess it. It's a fairly straight forward formula:

1. what brought you to the hospital or why are you here? (their understanding of their diagnosis)

2. what are the docs saying about how long you'll be here or what is the next step? (their understanding of their prognosis)

3. who is your support group - you know, family? friends? (support systems)

4. what kind of faith community includes you - church? other? (faith community)

After we have the "assessment" chat, this also opens up the discussion for other kinds of topics as per whatever the patient/family might have on their minds and hearts.

I learned yesterday that this formula doesn't really help in Behavioral Health. Don't ask unless why they are here unless you want to see the self-inflicted wound and staples along the wrist which are accompanied by bruising where the police had to restrain him to get him in the ambulance. I don't think that having the patient re-live that whole scene was particularly helpful for his spiritual health, but then again, he freely told me. And told me. And told me. And told me.

So perhaps I served as a loving listener, but I did find myself feeling annoyed after about 20 minutes of it. I was afraid that I was going to slit my wrist if I heard the story one more time. But I wasn't going to tell him that.

Something to learn there. Something about boundaries? Something about manipulation? Something about being a door mat? I think I'll pray about this one.

After Jesus had gone indoors, his disciples asked him privately, "Why couldn't we drive it out?" He replied, "This kind can come out only by prayer." Mark 9:28-30

What is best left unasked, untold in this moment?

Saving Others

I sat in a 12-step meeting in the unit, listening to the therapist explain the cognitive issues describing how addictions affect our brain. Next, he began sharing how, although it is scary, we addicts will need to find new friends and new social networks. The patients all nodded, some shook their heads and chuckled, knowingly.

The therapist offered that in some cases, finding a church may be a helpful place for newly-clean addicts who seek out new friends and new patterns. After some sharing by other patients, I heard one say how at first, his new church really helped him. Then he got really involved and really active. He led trips, helped the homeless, taught Sunday school, held bible study, and really over committed himself.

I am sure that I took a deep breath when he said, "I got so busy saving others that I forgot about saving myself."

How am I like this patient? Well, I better learn to know when to say when. I pray for God's guidance, for my family's patience and for my colleagues' perseverance to help me not forget about self-care.

The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One." - Luke 23:35

How are you saving your SELF in this moment?

I'm Not Here To Make Friends

September 25, 2009

Today, I listened to the Sept 11, 2009 podcast of This American Life entitled "Frenemies." In it, Ira Glass brought together stories about friends. Or wait, enemies? How about both? Tales of estranged sisters, BFFs breaking up and making up and breaking up, and how reality stars walk the fine line between making friends and making a name for themselves.

• The sister who the author is stuck with, but from whom she becomes estranged after her marriage to man from another religion.
• The bridegroom who was requested to toast the marriage of his best friend to his ex-fiance.
• The two women who met through a now-ex boyfriend of both.

Act Two included a story from deep inside the natural habitat of frenemies: reality TV. Rich Juzwiak, a full-time blogger spends a lot of time watching and dissecting reality TV shows. And last year, he noticed that one sentence seems to repeat an awful lot in the frenemy friendships that happen on reality TV. Once, he geeked out on common phrases that he hears on these programs. By far the most common phrase that reality show contestants like to share is "I"m not here to make friends!" It's so popular, in fact, that he spliced and recorded four minutes from dozens of reality TV shows into one youtube video. It's not a pretty sight.

As I completed the reading for this week's didactic on Pastoral Care, I read from Henri Nouwen's article on the Wounded Healer. He writes, "A minister is not a doctor whose primary task is to take away pain. Rather, he deepens pain to a level where it can be shared...and in sharing it can understand it as a basic human condition." (read: I'm not here to make friends)

"Perhaps the main task of the minister is to prevent people from suffering for the wrong reasons..." He proposes that through common wounds, the care giver can liberate people from the supposition that there should be no fear or loneliness, no confusion or doubt. "...these sufferings can only be dealt with creatively when they are understood as wounds integral to our human condition. Therefore, ministry is a very confronting service. " (read: I'm not here to make friends)

"...[ministry] does not allow people to live with illusions of immortality and wholeness. It keeps reminding others that they are mortal and broken, but also that with the recognition of this condition, liberation starts." (read: I'm not here to make friends)

"These wounds and pains are openings and occasions for a new vision. Mutual confession becomes a mutual deepening of hope, and sharing weakness becomes a reminder to one and all of the coming strength."

As a Chaplain, I find this difficult. I so want to be a people pleaser. I so want to tell people that it will be okay. I so want to fix what's broken, take away the pain, offer immortality and wholeness. Then I remember: I'm not here to make friends. What a paradox.

How does your woundedness draw you closer to others and bring healing, right now?