I set forth several conditions about where I would live when I retired, one of which was that I would live at least one mile from any church. Like most of the other conditions, this primary one was not met. By a fortuitous arrangement with the congregation I last served, I live immediately across the street from the church – so near, in fact, that on a sunny morning the shadow of the steeple falls across my front lawn. None of the problems anticipated about living so near the church have materialized; but there is one unanticipated problem.
In order for you to understand that problem you would have to know that my lovely wife, Hilda, has always been the treasurer and bookkeeper in our household. She is, and always has been, the soul of frugality, which is a fortunate characteristic for a clergy family. Her insistence on frugality tends to extend to any institution we support, the main one of which is the church whose steeple shadow falls across our front lawn. From the front windows of our house you can see some window in most of the whole church plant. Hilda cannot stand to see a light on where light is not necessary. I can handle that in our house, but First Methodist Church is a big building and people sometimes fail to turn off the lights when they leave. Guess who gets nominated to get dressed and go across the street to turn off those lights. Moi!! Hilda insists that God’s money should not be wasted. (Finance Committee, you may write a note of appreciation at your leisure; and by the way, send one also to me.) My experience here puts me in mind of a story.
One Monday morning a pastor in Texas answered the knock on his study door to find the church treasurer standing there with a check in his hand. He said: "Pastor, we have a little problem here; this is a check for five hundred dollars." The pastor opined that he could live with a few more problems like that. The treasurer said: "No, you don’t understand! Look at the check." The pastor took the check and read across the top line: Pay to the Order of God. When the pastor raised his eyes, the treasurer asked: "Now, who is going to endorse that?" According to the legend, the pastor handed the check back and answered: "You are! I certainly would not want it to get out that this church received an offering intended for God and didn’t know what to do with it!"
Before he retired as pastor of Hennepin Avenue United Methodist Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota several years ago, Dr. Rodney Wilmoth told of being at the church one Saturday morning. When the telephone rang he picked it up and said, "Hello" without identifying himself or the church. The voice on the other end of the line said: "I would like to order five pounds of barbecued ribs and five pounds of potato salad." Dr. Wilmoth said: "I believe you have the wrong number." The lady said: "You don’t have ribs and potato salad?" "No," said Dr. Wilmoth, "You have the wrong number." Then the woman said: "Well, what kind of business are you in?" Dr. Wilmoth said that question haunted him for a long time.
When you give your money to the church there are three things you should understand. First, it is no longer your money. It is now God’s money. The second thing you should understand is that it should be spent, not hoarded. The church is not First National Bank! The third thing is that it should be spent with great care. After all, it is God’s money!
OK, I’ll get dressed and go across the street and turn off the lights!! I not only feel responsible to God, I also have to live with the lady at my house who writes the check for our tithe on the first Sunday of every month!
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for September 20, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Living With Ambiguity by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts
One of the best signs of maturity is the ability to live creatively with ambiguity. People who feel unduly anxious about not knowing with certainty the answer to all the big questions of life tend to be drawn to people who think they know everything. Uncertainty makes us look around nervously for experts.
Many years ago I had the pleasure of visiting the Holy Land. I wanted to stand in those special places where Jesus stood and remember what he said and did on certain important occasions. Every time we arrived at one of those sites and I was about to experience a moment of spiritual ecstacy knowing that I was standing where Jesus stood, our guide would inevitably destroy the moment by saying: "We are not really sure this is the exact spot where Jesus stood. It may have been ‘over yonder’ or it could have been some other place altogether. One of the traditions is that he stood here on that occasion." There was another group near us led by a minister with a thundering, authoritative voice who, when he came to the same place where we had been, would clutch his Bible over his heart and point the forefinger of his right hand to the heavens and pronounce with authority: "The Lord, Jesus, stood right here, on the very spot where I am standing and preached to the multitudes." I had sense enough to know that our guide was probably right, but I must confess there was something in me that made me want to be with that other group whose leader was absolutely certain. Do you understand that?
"Doubt is not a pleasant condition," said Voltaire, "but certainty is an absurd one." Human beings are never more dangerous than when they are absolutely certain beyond a shadow of doubt that they are right, and everyone else is wrong. Life is strewn with uncertainties. The bridge we must cross to get from uncertainty to meaningful action is "Faith." When two people stand before the altar to be married it is not unusual for one or both of them to have some lingering doubt about what they are doing. What makes them get married anyway? Faith and Love. Without this no one would dare embark on such a risky venture as marriage.
The older we are the more likely we are to realize the extent to which we are really ignorant about so many things. My adult children still ask me profound philosophical questions, to which I often answer: "You should have asked me that question 30 years ago when I knew the answer." The Apostle Paul was so right when he opined, "Now we see through a glass darkly . . . Now I know in part . . ." (I Corinthians 13:12). Paul went on to suggest the remedy for such ambiguity is "Faith, hope, and love."
If we wait until we are absolutely sure, we will always be waiting. In his novel, "The Trial," Franz Kafka has the hero, Mr. K, wander into a church where he hears a priest tell a parable which is frightening to those of us who are prone to wait until we are absolutely sure. There is a man who was told to enter a kingdom through a certain gate. When he arrived, he found the gate but he noticed a sentinel guarding the entrance. So he sat down and waited for the sentinel to give him instructions, or to grant permission to enter. But the guard did nothing and said nothing. So the man continued to sit there waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to come. For a whole life he sat there. Then the guard closed the door. He said to the man, "The door was made for you, and for you alone. And because you chose not to enter it, it is being closed forever."
Don’t let your door to life close before you enter because you were not absolutely sure.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for August 30, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
Many years ago I had the pleasure of visiting the Holy Land. I wanted to stand in those special places where Jesus stood and remember what he said and did on certain important occasions. Every time we arrived at one of those sites and I was about to experience a moment of spiritual ecstacy knowing that I was standing where Jesus stood, our guide would inevitably destroy the moment by saying: "We are not really sure this is the exact spot where Jesus stood. It may have been ‘over yonder’ or it could have been some other place altogether. One of the traditions is that he stood here on that occasion." There was another group near us led by a minister with a thundering, authoritative voice who, when he came to the same place where we had been, would clutch his Bible over his heart and point the forefinger of his right hand to the heavens and pronounce with authority: "The Lord, Jesus, stood right here, on the very spot where I am standing and preached to the multitudes." I had sense enough to know that our guide was probably right, but I must confess there was something in me that made me want to be with that other group whose leader was absolutely certain. Do you understand that?
"Doubt is not a pleasant condition," said Voltaire, "but certainty is an absurd one." Human beings are never more dangerous than when they are absolutely certain beyond a shadow of doubt that they are right, and everyone else is wrong. Life is strewn with uncertainties. The bridge we must cross to get from uncertainty to meaningful action is "Faith." When two people stand before the altar to be married it is not unusual for one or both of them to have some lingering doubt about what they are doing. What makes them get married anyway? Faith and Love. Without this no one would dare embark on such a risky venture as marriage.
The older we are the more likely we are to realize the extent to which we are really ignorant about so many things. My adult children still ask me profound philosophical questions, to which I often answer: "You should have asked me that question 30 years ago when I knew the answer." The Apostle Paul was so right when he opined, "Now we see through a glass darkly . . . Now I know in part . . ." (I Corinthians 13:12). Paul went on to suggest the remedy for such ambiguity is "Faith, hope, and love."
If we wait until we are absolutely sure, we will always be waiting. In his novel, "The Trial," Franz Kafka has the hero, Mr. K, wander into a church where he hears a priest tell a parable which is frightening to those of us who are prone to wait until we are absolutely sure. There is a man who was told to enter a kingdom through a certain gate. When he arrived, he found the gate but he noticed a sentinel guarding the entrance. So he sat down and waited for the sentinel to give him instructions, or to grant permission to enter. But the guard did nothing and said nothing. So the man continued to sit there waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to come. For a whole life he sat there. Then the guard closed the door. He said to the man, "The door was made for you, and for you alone. And because you chose not to enter it, it is being closed forever."
Don’t let your door to life close before you enter because you were not absolutely sure.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for August 30, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Do We Finally Know It All? by Dr. Thomas Butts
In a new biography titled "Einstein" Walter Isaacson refers to a remark made by the revered scientist, Lord Kelvin, when he was addressing the British Association for the Advancement of Science in 1900. He counseled young men not to go into the field of physics because: "There is nothing new to be discovered in physics now. All that remains is more and more precise measurements." Hmmm.
Even as he spoke a fuzzy headed, non-conformist, 21 year old Jew by the name of Albert Einstein, who had just graduated near the bottom of his class at Zurich Polytechnic College had strange new ideas about the structure of reality buzzing in his brain. After two desperate years of looking for a job, he was finally hired as a 3rd class technician at the patent office in Bern Switzerland. While working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, and juggling a chaotic personal life, he came up with a scientific theory of Special Relativity which turned the world of physics on its ear. The famous equation E=MC2 came from Einstein’s 1905 paper on special relativity. It overturned long-held concepts in Isaac Newton’s "Principia Mathematica," such as the idea of absolute time. Newton, who had reigned supreme for over 200 years, was no longer infallible.
Lord Kelvin’s pronouncement that no thing new remained to be discovered was a colossal misjudgment. Everything old had to be re-examined and a whole new world of physics was opened up. When Albert Einstein died 55 years after Lord Kelvin’s pronouncement that everything new had been discovered, the whole world tipped their hat to this strange, imaginative, impertinent patent clerk who had become "the mind reader of the creator of the cosmos and the locksmith of the mysteries of the atom and the universe.
As the bright new age of the modern world dawned, Lord Kelvin was not the only person to think we knew just about all there was to know. In 1899, Charles Duell, Director of the U.S. Patent Office, urged President William McKinley to abolish the Patent Office. He told the President that "Everything that could be invented had been invented." But, even as he spoke two sons of a Methodist Bishop by the names of Wilbur and Orville Wright were toying with ideas of flight that would eventually revolutionize travel.
During the Great Depression in the 1930s my brother and I walked two miles on Saturday nights to hear the "Grand Ole Opry," being broadcast from Nashville, Tennessee, on a battery operated radio. In 1941, my father ordered a Silvertone radio from Sears Roebuck for $15.00 so we could listen to the "war news." As we listened to voices from thousands of miles away speak in our own living room, I thought this was as good as it gets. Surely there was nothing more that could be invented in the field of mass communication. Somebody, somewhere, said there was a strange new invention called television on the drawing board that could send real-time live pictures. What a crazy idea. I certainly did not believe it.
In this first decade of the 21st Century we have advanced instruments of technology that Lord Kelvin and Charles Duell would never believe possible. I scarcely believe it possible myself.
Surely by now "everything that can be invented has already been invented!" Shall we close the Patent Office? Hmmm.
Even as he spoke a fuzzy headed, non-conformist, 21 year old Jew by the name of Albert Einstein, who had just graduated near the bottom of his class at Zurich Polytechnic College had strange new ideas about the structure of reality buzzing in his brain. After two desperate years of looking for a job, he was finally hired as a 3rd class technician at the patent office in Bern Switzerland. While working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, and juggling a chaotic personal life, he came up with a scientific theory of Special Relativity which turned the world of physics on its ear. The famous equation E=MC2 came from Einstein’s 1905 paper on special relativity. It overturned long-held concepts in Isaac Newton’s "Principia Mathematica," such as the idea of absolute time. Newton, who had reigned supreme for over 200 years, was no longer infallible.
Lord Kelvin’s pronouncement that no thing new remained to be discovered was a colossal misjudgment. Everything old had to be re-examined and a whole new world of physics was opened up. When Albert Einstein died 55 years after Lord Kelvin’s pronouncement that everything new had been discovered, the whole world tipped their hat to this strange, imaginative, impertinent patent clerk who had become "the mind reader of the creator of the cosmos and the locksmith of the mysteries of the atom and the universe.
As the bright new age of the modern world dawned, Lord Kelvin was not the only person to think we knew just about all there was to know. In 1899, Charles Duell, Director of the U.S. Patent Office, urged President William McKinley to abolish the Patent Office. He told the President that "Everything that could be invented had been invented." But, even as he spoke two sons of a Methodist Bishop by the names of Wilbur and Orville Wright were toying with ideas of flight that would eventually revolutionize travel.
During the Great Depression in the 1930s my brother and I walked two miles on Saturday nights to hear the "Grand Ole Opry," being broadcast from Nashville, Tennessee, on a battery operated radio. In 1941, my father ordered a Silvertone radio from Sears Roebuck for $15.00 so we could listen to the "war news." As we listened to voices from thousands of miles away speak in our own living room, I thought this was as good as it gets. Surely there was nothing more that could be invented in the field of mass communication. Somebody, somewhere, said there was a strange new invention called television on the drawing board that could send real-time live pictures. What a crazy idea. I certainly did not believe it.
In this first decade of the 21st Century we have advanced instruments of technology that Lord Kelvin and Charles Duell would never believe possible. I scarcely believe it possible myself.
Surely by now "everything that can be invented has already been invented!" Shall we close the Patent Office? Hmmm.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
When Bad Things Happen
When Bad Things Happen to – Anybody written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
In 1981, Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote a book that touched a sensitive spot in many people. The book was titled, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People." Most of us consider ourselves to be good people, most of the time. Yet few, if any, live very long without having something bad happen in our lives which we feel is unfair. It is difficult to realize, in our understanding of reality, that "being good" is no guarantee against misfortune. We fail to see why God does not protect those who are trying to serve him. A man whose life had been "rained upon" considerably commented to me: "If God lets this sort of thing happen to his friends, pretty soon he will not have any friends." This is a universal human complaint against God even though it is often unspoken. But not everyone has remained quiet about it. The Book of Job and the Book of Psalms are laced with complaints to God about God’s failure to protect them from adversity.
In the Old Testament Book of Judges the "Angel of the Lord" appeared to Gideon and opened the conversation saying: "The Lord is with you, you mighty warrior." This salutation confused Gideon in view of all the trouble that was going on with him and his people. He obviously thought the Angel of the Lord was uninformed about the dire circumstances of God’s people. Gideon said to the Angel: "But, sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonderful deeds that our ancestors recounted to us, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the Lord has cast us off, and given us into the hand of Midian" (Judges 6:13). Gideon is expressing the age-old complaint: "Why do bad things happen to good people."
Job gave a philosophical answer to the question: "For misery does not come from the earth, nor does trouble sprout from the ground; but human beings are born to trouble just as sparks fly upward" (Job 5:6-7). He goes on: "A mortal that is born of woman is few of days and full of trouble . . ." (Job 14:1). While this philosophical explanation of the origin of trouble is of little comfort to a person in the midst of some life-altering adversity, it does offer a realistic understanding of the nature of human existence that will prepare one to deal with trouble when it comes.
One of the main obstacles to dealing creatively with the inevitable adversities of life is that our idealized image of what life ought to be like if it were like it ought to be gives no consideration to adversity being a normal part of life. Deep down in our hearts we think adversity is abnormal.
Truth is it is not abnormal but inevitable. It is part and parcel of our very existence. There is nothing in human experience or in our religious understanding of life which promises us a trouble-free life. Some of our troubles we bring upon ourselves, and there are some things that happen to us which are beyond our control. Our margin of control in both cases is in what we do with what happens to us.
Lillian Smith, in "Now Is the Time," reminds us that "Every good thing the human race has experienced was trouble for somebody. Our birth was trouble for our mothers. To support us was trouble for our fathers. Books, paintings, music, great buildings, good food, ideas, and the nameless joys and excitements which add up to what we call ‘a good life’ came out of the travail of countless hearts and minds."
Different people have different trials in life, and we deal with it in our own particular way, but adversity in some shape or form comes to everyone. Do not think for a moment that you can dance through the days of your years untouched by some kind of adversity. It is not going to happen.
If you want to really know a person observe them in a time of trial and trouble, when the mask of pretense and bravado is stripped away and there is nothing left but raw reality. While it is basically true that adversity tends to weaken the weak and strengthen the strong, there are people who are "born again" in the midst of a great adversity. But, that’s next week’s column.
We are not done here. Stay tuned.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for August 9, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
In 1981, Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote a book that touched a sensitive spot in many people. The book was titled, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People." Most of us consider ourselves to be good people, most of the time. Yet few, if any, live very long without having something bad happen in our lives which we feel is unfair. It is difficult to realize, in our understanding of reality, that "being good" is no guarantee against misfortune. We fail to see why God does not protect those who are trying to serve him. A man whose life had been "rained upon" considerably commented to me: "If God lets this sort of thing happen to his friends, pretty soon he will not have any friends." This is a universal human complaint against God even though it is often unspoken. But not everyone has remained quiet about it. The Book of Job and the Book of Psalms are laced with complaints to God about God’s failure to protect them from adversity.
In the Old Testament Book of Judges the "Angel of the Lord" appeared to Gideon and opened the conversation saying: "The Lord is with you, you mighty warrior." This salutation confused Gideon in view of all the trouble that was going on with him and his people. He obviously thought the Angel of the Lord was uninformed about the dire circumstances of God’s people. Gideon said to the Angel: "But, sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonderful deeds that our ancestors recounted to us, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the Lord has cast us off, and given us into the hand of Midian" (Judges 6:13). Gideon is expressing the age-old complaint: "Why do bad things happen to good people."
Job gave a philosophical answer to the question: "For misery does not come from the earth, nor does trouble sprout from the ground; but human beings are born to trouble just as sparks fly upward" (Job 5:6-7). He goes on: "A mortal that is born of woman is few of days and full of trouble . . ." (Job 14:1). While this philosophical explanation of the origin of trouble is of little comfort to a person in the midst of some life-altering adversity, it does offer a realistic understanding of the nature of human existence that will prepare one to deal with trouble when it comes.
One of the main obstacles to dealing creatively with the inevitable adversities of life is that our idealized image of what life ought to be like if it were like it ought to be gives no consideration to adversity being a normal part of life. Deep down in our hearts we think adversity is abnormal.
Truth is it is not abnormal but inevitable. It is part and parcel of our very existence. There is nothing in human experience or in our religious understanding of life which promises us a trouble-free life. Some of our troubles we bring upon ourselves, and there are some things that happen to us which are beyond our control. Our margin of control in both cases is in what we do with what happens to us.
Lillian Smith, in "Now Is the Time," reminds us that "Every good thing the human race has experienced was trouble for somebody. Our birth was trouble for our mothers. To support us was trouble for our fathers. Books, paintings, music, great buildings, good food, ideas, and the nameless joys and excitements which add up to what we call ‘a good life’ came out of the travail of countless hearts and minds."
Different people have different trials in life, and we deal with it in our own particular way, but adversity in some shape or form comes to everyone. Do not think for a moment that you can dance through the days of your years untouched by some kind of adversity. It is not going to happen.
If you want to really know a person observe them in a time of trial and trouble, when the mask of pretense and bravado is stripped away and there is nothing left but raw reality. While it is basically true that adversity tends to weaken the weak and strengthen the strong, there are people who are "born again" in the midst of a great adversity. But, that’s next week’s column.
We are not done here. Stay tuned.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for August 9, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Real Change Leaders by Dr. Jim Savage
‘Real Change Leaders’ is a book written by Jon Katzenbach. He wrote this book for businesses to invoke not temporary but permanent and real change. Jon is a man who takes principles that also come to us from ‘The Bible’ and shares great lessons for Christians, church leaders, Christian business people, community leaders, and those who desire to be better leaders inside of church, and outside in the real world for God’s kingdom.
There are 7 key points about ‘Real Change Leaders’ in church, business, and for Christ. Here are the 7 traits:
1. RCLs have commitment to a better way and a strong belief that the future’s dependent upon the change. They are also committed to the idea that they must also be a part of the better way. Don’t just tell others about the better “way”, actually live it and demonstrate. I would remind us Jesus says: “I am the way the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me.”
2. RCLs have the courage to challenge the existing power bases and norms. How many Bible characters can you think of who had the courage to challenge the existing power bases of their day?
3. RCLs have the Personal Initiative to go beyond defined boundaries. They break or alleviate constraints & think outside box. Which Bible characters would fit this trait?
4.)RCLs develop ways of motivation for themselves & others.
5.)RCLs care about how people are treated & then they enable people to perform well.
6.) RCLs often stay undercover, and keep a low profile.
Grandstanding, strident crusading and self-promotions are ways to undermine rather than enhance credibility.
7.) RCLs have a sense of humor about themselves, and their situations. Humor enables RCLs to help others stay the course over time.
Jesus Christ was a RCL! He invites you to Step n the River today to be a “Real Change Leader” for God and God’s kingdom. You can chase after other gods that do not profit the soul or you can come to God’s table and the Living Water, Jesus Christ and step into the River of Life with him receiving the changing power of the Holy Spirit.
This is the true Living Water that’ll never run dry that will lead you to be one of the “Real Change Leaders.”
There are 7 key points about ‘Real Change Leaders’ in church, business, and for Christ. Here are the 7 traits:
1. RCLs have commitment to a better way and a strong belief that the future’s dependent upon the change. They are also committed to the idea that they must also be a part of the better way. Don’t just tell others about the better “way”, actually live it and demonstrate. I would remind us Jesus says: “I am the way the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me.”
2. RCLs have the courage to challenge the existing power bases and norms. How many Bible characters can you think of who had the courage to challenge the existing power bases of their day?
3. RCLs have the Personal Initiative to go beyond defined boundaries. They break or alleviate constraints & think outside box. Which Bible characters would fit this trait?
4.)RCLs develop ways of motivation for themselves & others.
5.)RCLs care about how people are treated & then they enable people to perform well.
6.) RCLs often stay undercover, and keep a low profile.
Grandstanding, strident crusading and self-promotions are ways to undermine rather than enhance credibility.
7.) RCLs have a sense of humor about themselves, and their situations. Humor enables RCLs to help others stay the course over time.
Jesus Christ was a RCL! He invites you to Step n the River today to be a “Real Change Leader” for God and God’s kingdom. You can chase after other gods that do not profit the soul or you can come to God’s table and the Living Water, Jesus Christ and step into the River of Life with him receiving the changing power of the Holy Spirit.
This is the true Living Water that’ll never run dry that will lead you to be one of the “Real Change Leaders.”
Friday, August 31, 2007
Good Grief Part 2
Good Grief Part II
When I left you last week we were examining the normal and essential nature of grief, and the tendency in our society to try to save our friends who mourn from this process because it pains us to see them grieve.
Hardly a week passes that we do not have some friend or colleague experience the death of a loved one; and we feel called upon to go to a wake or funeral service where we find ourselves fishing for the right words to say to them. And, even if we miss the wake or funeral service, we feel called upon to send a "sympathy card" or if we are more sensitive or thoughtful, write some words of comfort.
There is often a temptation to try to push some grief-stricken friend out of a stage of their grief, which is painful for us to observe, by asking them to compare their situation with someone whose situation is worse than theirs – in our view of reality. The book, "On Grief and Grieving," by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Keesler offers a poignant illustration of how dangerous it is to offer comparisons to a person who is grieving some loss. They tell of a young man named Brian who had to have his leg amputated. The loss was terrible. During a rehabilitation session he saw another man who had lost both legs and he was inwardly embarrassed for having felt self-pity about his loss of one leg. The next day he saw a man who had both legs but needed a cane to walk, and once again he felt his own loss more keenly. Later the two men had a chance to talk about what had brought them to this point. Brian said he had lost his leg due to diabetes.
The man with the cane said he had an automobile accident which had caused a minor back injury and that he was in rehab to regain his strength. Still comparing losses, Brian said: "Well, at least you have two legs." The man with the cane said, "Yes, I do, but I lost my wife in the accident." Someone else’s loss may seem greater or lesser than your own, but all losses are so individual that comparisons are dangerous, if not cruel. Do not try to comfort yourself, or someone else, by comparison. It almost never works.
In the Newsweek article (May 28, 2007) on grief, Jess Hinds, who was grieving the loss of her father said: "My grief is profound: I am mourning the past, present, and future. I resent the condolence cards that hurry me through my grief as if it were a dangerous street at night." "My grief is not a handicap. People seem to worry that if they encourage me to grieve openly I will fall apart. I won’t. On the contrary, if you allow me to be sad, I will be a stronger, more effective person."
There is a great temptation for us to point out the silver lining in the grief of others. Don’t go there! If there is a silver lining or a blessing in disguise to be found, it must be found by the grief-stricken person, not by some well-intentioned friend who just can’t stand to be near or participate in someone else’s pain.
This is an abbreviated form of Jess Hind’s basic guidelines for mastering the "Art of condolence." Read with care! Be simple and direct, i.e., "I am so sorry about . . ." Ask "how are you?" or "How are you feeling?" instead of telling someone how to feel. Never say: "I can’t imagine what you are going through." The emotional translation to the grieving person is: "This is too hard for me, I don’t want to think about it." Never give advice about how someone should get through the loss. There is no universal "how to" formula.
Any loss tends to be like an amputation. You will survive, but there will be less of you in the end. I know that most all of you have experienced some life-changing loss: death, divorce, loss of your job, etc. If you have not, trust me, you will.
I pray that when you experience your next loss you have Jess Hinds, or some sensitive soul like her, to help you grieve properly. In the absence of such saving assistance, the next best medicine will be to read (or to have read) "On Grief and Grieving" and "Life Lessons" by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Keesler. Available at fine bookstores everywhere. Order your copy now and read it before you need it.
When I left you last week we were examining the normal and essential nature of grief, and the tendency in our society to try to save our friends who mourn from this process because it pains us to see them grieve.
Hardly a week passes that we do not have some friend or colleague experience the death of a loved one; and we feel called upon to go to a wake or funeral service where we find ourselves fishing for the right words to say to them. And, even if we miss the wake or funeral service, we feel called upon to send a "sympathy card" or if we are more sensitive or thoughtful, write some words of comfort.
There is often a temptation to try to push some grief-stricken friend out of a stage of their grief, which is painful for us to observe, by asking them to compare their situation with someone whose situation is worse than theirs – in our view of reality. The book, "On Grief and Grieving," by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Keesler offers a poignant illustration of how dangerous it is to offer comparisons to a person who is grieving some loss. They tell of a young man named Brian who had to have his leg amputated. The loss was terrible. During a rehabilitation session he saw another man who had lost both legs and he was inwardly embarrassed for having felt self-pity about his loss of one leg. The next day he saw a man who had both legs but needed a cane to walk, and once again he felt his own loss more keenly. Later the two men had a chance to talk about what had brought them to this point. Brian said he had lost his leg due to diabetes.
The man with the cane said he had an automobile accident which had caused a minor back injury and that he was in rehab to regain his strength. Still comparing losses, Brian said: "Well, at least you have two legs." The man with the cane said, "Yes, I do, but I lost my wife in the accident." Someone else’s loss may seem greater or lesser than your own, but all losses are so individual that comparisons are dangerous, if not cruel. Do not try to comfort yourself, or someone else, by comparison. It almost never works.
In the Newsweek article (May 28, 2007) on grief, Jess Hinds, who was grieving the loss of her father said: "My grief is profound: I am mourning the past, present, and future. I resent the condolence cards that hurry me through my grief as if it were a dangerous street at night." "My grief is not a handicap. People seem to worry that if they encourage me to grieve openly I will fall apart. I won’t. On the contrary, if you allow me to be sad, I will be a stronger, more effective person."
There is a great temptation for us to point out the silver lining in the grief of others. Don’t go there! If there is a silver lining or a blessing in disguise to be found, it must be found by the grief-stricken person, not by some well-intentioned friend who just can’t stand to be near or participate in someone else’s pain.
This is an abbreviated form of Jess Hind’s basic guidelines for mastering the "Art of condolence." Read with care! Be simple and direct, i.e., "I am so sorry about . . ." Ask "how are you?" or "How are you feeling?" instead of telling someone how to feel. Never say: "I can’t imagine what you are going through." The emotional translation to the grieving person is: "This is too hard for me, I don’t want to think about it." Never give advice about how someone should get through the loss. There is no universal "how to" formula.
Any loss tends to be like an amputation. You will survive, but there will be less of you in the end. I know that most all of you have experienced some life-changing loss: death, divorce, loss of your job, etc. If you have not, trust me, you will.
I pray that when you experience your next loss you have Jess Hinds, or some sensitive soul like her, to help you grieve properly. In the absence of such saving assistance, the next best medicine will be to read (or to have read) "On Grief and Grieving" and "Life Lessons" by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Keesler. Available at fine bookstores everywhere. Order your copy now and read it before you need it.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Good Grief P 1
Good Grief
Part I written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
When Elizabeth Kubler-Ross lay dying at her home in Arizona, she was progressing through the classic stages of death which she had so beautifully set forth in her first book, "On Death and Dying." She observed with some dismay: "People love my stages. They just don’t want me to be in one." How sad! She was just as human as anyone else. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, who had helped so many people negotiate their exit on the "Long Journey," and who was soon to be flying with the angels deserved better than that!
We all experience many different kinds of loss in the course of life. It is difficult to rate any particular loss on a scale that is universally applicable to everyone. There is no such thing as a typical response to loss, and there is no typical loss. Our grief response to loss is highly individual.
Early in her professional life as a psychiatrist, Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross developed a framework in which most people work out their grief response to loss. Her initial research was at Cook County Hospital in Chicago from which she wrote her most profound book, "On Death and Dying," which lists five stages through which people tend to move on the way to death. Those stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These stages are tools that help us identify what we may be feeling at certain times in our grief. It should not be supposed that everyone goes through all these stages, or that everyone moves through these stages in a prescribed order.
There is no loss that brings a more profound sadness or leaves a more indescribable emptiness than the death of a loved one. I am not sure that the prospect and process of our own demise is as great or any greater than the death of a loved one. The whole world stops. Intellectually you know that life will continue but you are not sure about how or why, or even if you care. Since this is a situation we see in others more often than we experience it personally, how can we be helpful to our friends as they deal with this intense and life altering experience? This is one of the most sensitive and difficult things we are called upon to do for friends.
It is surprising, and unfortunate, how often we try to talk grieving friends out of their grief instead of helping them with this most essential element in the process of dealing with death. I was touched by a "my turn" piece in the May 28, 2007 issue of Newsweek. It was titled: "‘I’m sorry’ shouldn’t be the hardest words," and written by a 25 year old teacher who lost her 58 year old father. She writes a graphic description of her profound feelings of loss, and then describes the unintentionally insensitive way in which many friends tried to console her by trying to talk her out of her grief. There is nothing more natural or essential in dealing with the death of a loved one than to not only allow, but to encourage the natural flow of grief. Jess D. Hinds, the young author of this article, spoke of how many condolence cards and letters she received that tried to talk her out of her grief. One friend wrote: "You should be happy to have your memories." Another: "You should feel lucky you got to be with your father in the hospital."
Miss Hinds’ response was: "You have got to be kidding!" Others tried to distract her from her grief with such questions as: "Are you applying to grad school?" "How is your teaching going?" "Are you still renovating your apartment?" "Are you keeping busy?" Miss Hinds opined how in our society we tend to want mourners to just "snap out of it" because observing the grief of others isn’t easy.
A casual perusal of sympathy cards on the rack at pharmacies and at Wal-Mart affirms how when we "Care enough to send the very best" but are too lazy to write, the generic cards almost always miss the deep feelings of those who mourn. Our condolences should not tell those who mourn how to feel but rather reach out to touch those natural feelings of grief that are already there, and which we had really rather avoid.
I am not finished here. More next week.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for July 26, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
Part I written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
When Elizabeth Kubler-Ross lay dying at her home in Arizona, she was progressing through the classic stages of death which she had so beautifully set forth in her first book, "On Death and Dying." She observed with some dismay: "People love my stages. They just don’t want me to be in one." How sad! She was just as human as anyone else. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, who had helped so many people negotiate their exit on the "Long Journey," and who was soon to be flying with the angels deserved better than that!
We all experience many different kinds of loss in the course of life. It is difficult to rate any particular loss on a scale that is universally applicable to everyone. There is no such thing as a typical response to loss, and there is no typical loss. Our grief response to loss is highly individual.
Early in her professional life as a psychiatrist, Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross developed a framework in which most people work out their grief response to loss. Her initial research was at Cook County Hospital in Chicago from which she wrote her most profound book, "On Death and Dying," which lists five stages through which people tend to move on the way to death. Those stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These stages are tools that help us identify what we may be feeling at certain times in our grief. It should not be supposed that everyone goes through all these stages, or that everyone moves through these stages in a prescribed order.
There is no loss that brings a more profound sadness or leaves a more indescribable emptiness than the death of a loved one. I am not sure that the prospect and process of our own demise is as great or any greater than the death of a loved one. The whole world stops. Intellectually you know that life will continue but you are not sure about how or why, or even if you care. Since this is a situation we see in others more often than we experience it personally, how can we be helpful to our friends as they deal with this intense and life altering experience? This is one of the most sensitive and difficult things we are called upon to do for friends.
It is surprising, and unfortunate, how often we try to talk grieving friends out of their grief instead of helping them with this most essential element in the process of dealing with death. I was touched by a "my turn" piece in the May 28, 2007 issue of Newsweek. It was titled: "‘I’m sorry’ shouldn’t be the hardest words," and written by a 25 year old teacher who lost her 58 year old father. She writes a graphic description of her profound feelings of loss, and then describes the unintentionally insensitive way in which many friends tried to console her by trying to talk her out of her grief. There is nothing more natural or essential in dealing with the death of a loved one than to not only allow, but to encourage the natural flow of grief. Jess D. Hinds, the young author of this article, spoke of how many condolence cards and letters she received that tried to talk her out of her grief. One friend wrote: "You should be happy to have your memories." Another: "You should feel lucky you got to be with your father in the hospital."
Miss Hinds’ response was: "You have got to be kidding!" Others tried to distract her from her grief with such questions as: "Are you applying to grad school?" "How is your teaching going?" "Are you still renovating your apartment?" "Are you keeping busy?" Miss Hinds opined how in our society we tend to want mourners to just "snap out of it" because observing the grief of others isn’t easy.
A casual perusal of sympathy cards on the rack at pharmacies and at Wal-Mart affirms how when we "Care enough to send the very best" but are too lazy to write, the generic cards almost always miss the deep feelings of those who mourn. Our condolences should not tell those who mourn how to feel but rather reach out to touch those natural feelings of grief that are already there, and which we had really rather avoid.
I am not finished here. More next week.
AN ENCOURAGING WORD for July 26, 2007 - written by Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, Pastor Emeritus, Monroeville First United Methodist Church
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