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Sunday, February 10, 2013

This Joyful Season: Part 1

I can't remember what prayer it is during the season of Lent, but one of the prayers at some point (might have been out of a daily mass collect) refers to "this joyful season of Lent." I remember hearing that "for the first time." I put that in quotes becaus the fact is, I'd probably heard it dozens of times throughout my life, but this was the first time I HEARD it.

It struck me as so weird.

I mean, I had always thought of Lent as a season of repentence, sorrow for our sins, a time when we should be experience discomfort in our practices of penance, fasting, extra prayer, and sacrificial almsgiving. I had never thought of Lent as a season of joy. But it makes sense, really.

As St. Augustine so eloquently put it, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee, oh Lord." God is our one true source of happiness, peace, joy. We cannot experience these things apart from Him. So it makes sense that the season of Lent should be a season of joy. What are these practices of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving, if not practices that are meant to rid ourselves of everything that separates us from the Lord?

I know that I have too often thought of these things as punishments. I deserve to be punished for the sins I have committed, and so I fast, spend extra time in prayer, and sacrificially give alms as a way "to make up for the sins I've committed."

The fundamental truth is this: we cannot make up for the sins we've committed. Sin separates us from God, from each other, and from creation. We do not have the power within ourselves to bridge that separation, to heal that wound. No matter how severe our fast, no matter how much time we spend in prayer or how calloused our knees become, no matter how much we give to another, we cannot make up for our own sins.

The fundamental truth is also this: "while we were still sinners Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). We do not have to make up for our sins because Jesus did. Jesus bridged that gap; Jesus healed our wounds. So the practices of Lent are not acts for me to perform so that I somehow make myself righteous through my own works. The practices of Lent are acts that rid me of those things that keep Jesus from acting in my life. When I rid myself of those things so that I can be more open to Jesus, I experience true joy.

The practices of Lent are not to rid my life of all the things that make me happy. The practices of Lent are to rid my life of things that keep me from being truly happy in Jesus.

Through Lent, I'm going to be posting some practical applications for fasting, prayer, and almsgiving. How can these practices improve our lives as followers of Jesus? How can these practices fill us with joy during this season of Lent? Before Lent begins this coming Wednesday, I want to focus on how prayer, fasting and alsmgiving can help us heal one of the primary wounds that causes us pain: forgiveness of others and letting go of resentments.

Forgiveness of one another is a foundation to the bridge that Jesus built over the gap that separates us from our God, and thus from our own happiness. It is so important, that it made its way into the prayer the Lord taught us, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors" (Matthew 6:12). It is so important, as a matter of fact, that it is the only line in this prayer our Lord taught us that he thought bore commentary: "If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions" (Matthew 6:14, 15).

There is an ancient Buddhist saying that I love: "Holding on to anger is like holding on to a hot coal in order to throw it at someone else. You are the one who gets burned." Who in your life do you need to forgive? The anger and resentment that we hold makes us miserable, but ultimately has little if any effect on the person against whom you hold it.

So how does fasting come into play here? There is a story I like that comes out of the Native American traditions. A grandfather explained to his grandson that inside each of us are two wolves. One wolf carries happiness, peace, serenity, tranquility, joy, and love with him. The other wolf carries hatred, anger, bitterness, resentment, and sorrow. These two wolves, explains the grandfather, are constantly at war with each other, fighting to overcome us. The grandson asks his grandfather, "Which one wins?" The grandfather responds, "The one that you feed." Perhaps fasting this Lent doesn't mean giving up food or drink or TV or radio or music. Perhaps fasting means giving up gossip, slander, or maybe it means watching and giving up your own thoughts of anger and resentment. Perhaps, if you hold anger and bitterness toward someone, fasting means that you stop feeding that anger and bitterness with the things that keep it alive. This may mean giving up a person entirely. If everytime you come into even virtual contact with someone, you feel anger and resentment toward that person, maybe it is better for you to stay away from that person all-together. Fasting from those things that feed our anger and resentment will help us forgive over time.

Praying comes into play to move us toward forgiveness. The 12 Step recovery community has an interesting approach to this. Knowing that resentment and anger can lead to relapse, the recovery community also knows that forgiveness is important to maintain recovery. A person in recovery is encouraged to pray for those whom he or she needs to forgive. What if, though, you don't want to forgive the person? This question comes up in the 12 Step recovery literature. The answer is simple: don't pray that you will forgive the person, but pray that your Higher Power will help you develop the willingness to forgive the person. Perhaps if there is a resentment that you or I hold and nurture, and we are not willing to give it up, then we should pray for the willingness to let go of the wrong that person has done us.

Connecting this to our liturgical prayer, we should make a special effort to celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation during Lent. Perhaps this year, in confession, we should confess any resentments which we have held against people. Acknowledge the difficulty we have had forgiving others, and ask for forgiveness for that in this sacred moment of confession. How often do we ask forgiveness for our own inability to forgive others? Yet, Jesus thought it so important to forgive others that he included it in the prayer he taught us and commented on it afterward.

Almsgiving plays a role in forgiveness, too. Perhaps this year, instead of increasing our donations to Church or to some charitable cause, almsgiving means giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Jesus spoke directly to this, "“You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, ‘You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, and whoever says to his brother, ‘Raqa,’ will be answerable to the Sanhedrin, and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ will be liable to fiery Gehenna. Therefore, if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matthew 5:21-24).

Is conversion possible? Is it possible for a person to recognize that he or she has done wrong, agregious wrong in the past, and change? I hope so. Maybe this year, our almsgiving means giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this year, almsgiving means being generous enough to give someone the opportunity to show that he or she is different now than he or she used to be. This doesn't mean we have to be buddy-buddy with someone that has hurt us. This doesn't mean we ever have to be friends with someone who has broken our trust. Forgiveness ultimately is not about the other person at all, even if the other person hasn't changed. Forgiveness doesn't mean that I allow someone who has hurt me in the past to hurt me again. Forgiveness means that, while I may never speak to a person who has hurt me again, I don't have to carry around the anger or resentment over the hurt that person caused me. Forgiveness doesn't mean I set the other person free from the wrong he or she has done. It means I am free from the wrong that person has done. Can you be that generous to yourself? Can you give yourself the alms of letting go of hurts that others have caused you?

Perhaps our almsgiving will take the form of live and let live. Let us all seriously ask ourselves this question: Can I be generous enough to let those who have wronged me get on with their lives without my brooding over the wrong that they have committed against me? Can I give that alms this Lent to those that have hurt me, and more importantly, to myself?

Using prayer, fasting and almsgiving to bring us to forgiveness of those who have wronged us makes us free of the chains that bind us. Using these Lenten practices this way can free us from the anger and resentment that keeps us from experiencing the true joy that Jesus has in store for us.

This Lent, let us use prayer, fasting and almsgiving to free us toward JOY in union with the Lord.

Wednesday, February 06, 2013

It Is Not Good For Man To Be Alone

This isn't going to be some religious post, or reflection on the creation story in Genesis. This is more of a personal reflection on why I was so miserable while I was working from home on policies and procedures.

Let me start at the prison, though.

I recently started working at Jefferson City Correctional Center, the maximum security prison in Jefferson City, MO. It's really frustrating right now. I've spent two days there, and have not been able really to get started because I don't yet have access to the state computer system or documentation system to review records and create therapy notes. So right now I'm spending a lot of time sitting around, twittling my thumbs, and wondering when something interesting is going to happen.

Tonight is one of those sleepless nights that I have every couple of weeks. Just can't seem to sleep. I was laying in bed thinking about how frustrating it is, when I realized the reason I'm frustrated right now is the same reason I was so miserable when I was working from home on the policies and procedures. I crave the therapeutic relationship that exists when I engage with people who are hurting. In every altruistic offer, there is a hint of selfishness. It is part of our fallen nature. Would Blessed Theresa of Calcutta have been who she was if she didn't believe she could get to heaven? Maybe eventually we overcome that and do the work of God out of pure love, with no thought of reward. That's not where I am.

I have always wanted to help people. I have also felt compelled in my career, for some reason, to work with those with whom no one else wants to work. I find myself drawn to the jobs to which others go because they just need a job. Those are the ones I want to do. Even when I was young, I didn't mind cleaning the toilets in the seminary.

I began in the addiction/mental health profession working in an adolescent rehab unit in Columbia, MO. It was ok. But when I learned that there was an opening in the community psychiatric rehabilation program, working with those who had severe, chronic mental illness, like severe schizophrenia, severe bipolar or depression, severe anxiety disorders, that was for me. Working with those that others feel are hopeless causes. Then I learned of the opportunity to work with opioid addicts on methadone. That was for me, too. Working with those whose dependence on illicit substances had become so severe that their brains literally could no longer function without the presence of that substance, which is provided in controlled doses so that they do not get high but are able to live normal lives. The stigma against these people's physical dependency on opioids and the treatment with methadone makes these addicts in medication assisted treatment the black sheep of the recovery family. These were the ones with whom I wanted to work: the ones that were rejected even by other recovering addicts (not all those in recovery reject those who need medication assistance).

Now here I am working in the prison, working with people whose mental illness is so severe that they committed a crime that was so serious that they now have to be secured in the highest level of prison facility available and in the highest level of security within that prison. It seems altruistic, but it's really not. I'm drawn to this. I crave the relationship that can be built with these men. I do it because it is fulfilling to me. Sometimes it's entertaining, which I have had to curb these first two days on the job. For example, I sat in on an involuntary medication hearing with a patient with severe schizophrenia. He started the meeting by protesting that he should not be there because he is in fact a Supreme Court judge. He then asked if his Petitioner Hardin was going to be there, who was his other half. You see, Petitioner Hardin needs to have a say in whether or not this gentleman receives medications, because Petitioner Hardin is his other half, and Petitioner Hardin may have an allergic reaction to the medication this inmate is given. At one point during the hearing, this inmate mentioned that he is the nuclear holocaust. He also mentioned that he is the one responsible for escorting people to heaven.

The interview piece of this involuntary medication hearing concluded with this inmate asking the panel, "Is there something wrong with me?" It took every ounce of self restraint I could muster not to respond, "Yes, you're crazier than an outhouse rat." I didn't though, because I'm new.

Scientific study and research demonstrates over and over again that the number one factor in a person's mental health improvement is not technique or theoretical approach or the skill level of the counselor or even the readiness or ability of the person in treatment. The number one factor in a person's mental health improvement is the relationship that exists between the one receiving care and the one providing it.

Different theoretical approaches of counseling have stumbled across this, even if those developing that approach did not have the empirical evidence of this that we have today. Rogers's Person Centered Approach discusses the need for radical authenticity in the care provider and radical acceptance of the patient. Both of these ideas revolve around the idea of relationship, and have become foundational to every counseling theory that has developed since Carl Rogers developed this philosophy. Transactional Analysis goes even further by stating that a person's problem really isn't within the person, but exists in the interpersonal transactions that take place between people. In other words, if a problem exists, it exists in the relationship between people. Motivational Interviewing states emphatically that if a patient in counseling is resistant to change, the resistance is not centered in the individual patient or client, but occurs because of a complication in the relationship between the care provider and the patient.

My own personal theoretical foundation for working with people draws from Victor Frankl's Logotherapy. This has to do with meaning making. The words we use to define ourselves have meaning, whether that word is father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, friend, employee, employer, boss. Whatever word we use to describe ourselves has a meaning for us, and we live out in our actions that meaning. I am a father based on the way I define that word. I am husband based on how I define that word. The other piece of this, though, is that all of these words imply relationships. To say I am husband means that I am in a relationship with a wife. To say I am a father means that I am in some kind of relationship with my children. The same is true for son (relationship with parent), employee (relationship with employer), friend (relationship with other friends). I act out my definitions of those words. Conflicts arise when the way I define myself in a relationship or define another in a relationship does not match the other's definition of me or definition of the other's self. In other words, when Lesley and I argue, it is because I have a definition of what it means for me to be husband and for her to be wife and she has a definition of what it means for me to be husband and her to be wife, and our definitions are not matching up. The point is, the relationship is key to these definitions.

The relationship is key. That's why I got into this work, and that's why I've been so frustrated. Staying at home working on Policy and Procedure did not allow me to engage in that relationship with those who are hurting emotionally or psychologically. I wrote policies and procedures...alone...at my kitchen table. That sucked. I wasn't able to engage people in therapeutic relationships.

I've been at my new job in the prison for 2 days now, and haven't been able to start engaging these men, building relationships with them. I'm hungering for that, craving it really. It's really frustrating that I haven't been able really to get started doing my work yet.

I don't know why I have this innate desire to build relationships with these type of people (currently men in the prison) who are nuttier than squirrel poop. It's just there. Maybe it's because so many others have rejected them, even family and friends. Don't get me wrong, if these men have been rejected, it is for good reason. They have committed heinous crimes. But then, I've committed heinous sins. Maybe the reason I want to reach out to them is karma, pay back for those that reached out to me when I felt the most unlovable. Maybe I want to build relationships with them because they have no one else who even wants to understand them.

Maybe I need to feel that salvation is real. Maybe God is calling me to love the ones who are most unlovable. Blessed Theresa began by hugging a leper. I won't be hugging any bat-dung crazy killers, but I will spend time with them and treat them with respect and dignity and unconditional love. The severely mentally ill men in segregation in a level 5 prison are America's lepers. I'm no Mother Theresa, but maybe building relationships with them, relationships that hold the potential for their healing, will make me a better Jamie Smith.