The Unraveling

During these last two years of the pandemic that won’t quit, we’ve been unraveling—coming undone.  So much of what we rightly (wrongly?) depended upon has failed us.  Then at the same time, our society and the world itself has done its share of unraveling.  Our trust in things—like the banking/investment system, the government, law enforcement, the church—even our own priest or minister have lost ground as our confidence has wained.

This has created lots of stress and anxiety which in its own right is a pandemic.  The use of anti-depressants and anxiety meds is off the charts.  Those who’ve struggled with any sort of addictions have struggled more.  All of us looked for ways to cope—eating, baking—then eating more, binge watching, puzzles to name only a few.  Others just tried to ignore it all and live like things were ‘normal’.  To try and live ‘as if’ yet at every turn reality reared up to impact life in so many ways.

Much media and advertising fed the ‘act as if’ there is no pandemic.Then there were other commercials touting ‘here’s how we suggest you cope’ with their product of course. 

For those who were religious having had a practice of attending church, synagog or a mosque, that practice was shut down or went online—a tad poor alternative for really connecting with people. Going to the gym to help with the stress, to stay healthy and connect with others was eliminated for many of us too. 

Media was not helpful often feeding fear and uncertainty.  Those who didn’t understand the essence of science, research and study tended to point fingers.  When things go awry, there is a tendency that we all look for someBODY or someTHING to hang it on.

Reality is, humanity had not dealt with a pandemic like this in over 100 years.  And yes, along the way, we often felt like we were flying by the seat of our pants—and were.  If you’re honest you’ve done it yourself too often to lie about it. 

As I’ve thought about this unraveling I was reminded of my first two decades of my work life ages twenty-six to forty-six.  I’d grown up in religious conservatism.  I thought that was unique for a while but came to see how common it is.  Every faith group has its conservatives, moderates and liberals. Whatever ‘branch’ we grow up in has considerable influence on our lives.  Conservatives are more fear based.  I ingested a lot of hellfire and damnation preaching teaching me that if you do enough wrong (and it doesn’t take much) or you commit the ‘unpardonable sin’ which conveniently shifted in the sermons depending on the topic of the day—you’ll spend eternity in hell.  Most of us were pretty certain that we’d personally committed the unpardonable sin—to the point of smelling smoke and feeling the heat of hell.  What we came to understand as the angry, judgmental character of God permeated the whole of our lives.  

In the language of my crowd back then, I felt a call from God to help people—not to preach.  After heading in the direction of civil engineering for over two years and with a job offer already set, I jumped tracks graduating with a degree in psychology.  Then went to seminary where I got a master degree in religious education—to be a VP in church life.  Then, I went on to the University of Texas Arlington for a masters in Social Work. 

My last semester we learned of a para-church operation in Nashville and crossed the Mississippi River for the first time heading east from Oklahoma and Texas.  The first couple of years I had two employers. Besides the non-profit, I was outreach pastor at First Nazarene, a large (for Nazarenes) church near downtown surrounded by public housing where I spent a fair amount of my time with a program called ShadeTree.  

In my naivety as pastor Millard Reed referred to it more than once, I thought the board of the non-profit had my back, was looking out for me.  At the ten year mark I began to see things more clearly.  In truth, they would have let me burn myself to a frazzle (easy to do non-profit work). I’m not saying there weren’t a few who did honestly care about me, but it was the creation of new services that kept me alive the second decade.  Two of the programs were not well received by some, working with gays and then HIV/AIDS.  We also had another innovative program where via the phone parsonage families could call anonymously and talk.  I was ‘Monday man’ answering for five hours the first day of the week.  I got an earful after the pastor at the other end of the phone line said his sermon had barely made it beyond the altar or his wife was calling ready to murder a couple of board members who were attacking her husband. I learned from those calls that preachers don’t necessarily preach what they believe.  They preach what they want to believe.

All this to say as I look back, I’d put my trust in that board of directors.  I gave lip service to depending on God but in reality—not much.  Had Jeannie not taken a job with a former board member bringing in another salary, we’d have had it even tougher.  She often had filled in at the non-profit when we had secretarial turnover.  Having the boss’s wife as secretary did not sit well with a couple other staff.

It was the transition in leaving the non-profit—a difficult one, that my trust, my faith took a turn in the right direction.  Some might say that board ‘failed me’.  No, they were a part of my education.  It was my naivety that unraveled over my twenty years there—and it needed to.  As Rohr and other label it, this was my first half of life experience and as Gail Sheehy said in Passages, life does not begin at forty, you began your second adulthood on the foundations of what the first half has taught you—hopefully.  

All our lives now are in a season much the same as I was then.  Places where we put our faith, our trust, have ‘failed us’.  What we’ve really done is project our ‘perfection theology’ on all the institutions around us and when they are not perfect we too often blame and attack.  

This pandemic has given all of us pause to stop and look for a while at where our trust has been.

Life teaches us that nothing is perfect.  Everything is flawed—including yours truly. In these times of uncertainty we have a clearer window to see that the Creator loves broken, screwed up, fallen people. Read the big book again should you not agree for example after example of broken people.  I’m not promoting the freedom to screw up—although you will.  Saints are not saints because they were perfect.  We’ve ‘canonized’ them as Saints because they had an all out desire for relationship and the experience of knowing God.  And this God, they came to know, was driven by love manifested as mercy, as grace and forgiveness.  Until we bath ourselves in the light of that truth—regularly—we’ll continue to point fingers. 

So, unraveling is not such a bad thing.  It’s a part of the cosmic plan at all levels.  It’s been our chance to stop and take inventory.  Many even in the midst of all we’ve been through don’t get it.  Don’t be one of those.

Take a moment to check out your own unraveling.

It’s a gift, not a curse.

Then, what is your thoughts on the ultimate character of God?