Seeking Justice: A Spiritual Practice

Police for Economic Justice and Collective Bargaining

“And the heavens proclaim God’s righteousness, for God is a God of justice”
(Psalm 50:6)







I have joined the ranks of the protesters. I do so because I believe God is a God of justice. The issue at hand is both simple and complex.

On one hand, our newly-elected governor is trying to balance the budget and reduce spending. He says this is why he was elected. But the primary way he appears to be doing is by forcing state and municipal employees to do four things: 1) and 2) contribute more money towards their health insurance and retirement accounts, 3) take a cut in wages and 4) agree to give up their right to collective bargaining.

As I see the issue unfold, workers are willing to do the first three things -- but not the fourth. Collective bargaining is a worker’s right that should never be surrendered or taken away. If money was the only issue on the table then the governor and legislature would have a deal. But money isn’t the only issue. The other issue is power – the power of an employer to hire and direct workers who, after this bill is passed, won’t have the right to meet with them regarding their “wages, hours and conditions of work.” And that, my friends, is an issue of justice and an issue of justice is a matter of one’s spirituality.

Last Saturday, while marching on the Capitol Square, I heard some counter-demonstrators shouting at the public employees: “We don’t have two weeks’ vacation, health insurance, or a retirement plan – why should you?” I think the response to this is simply, “You should!” Yes, every worker should have a paid vacation, health insurance, and a retirement plan as a matter of economic justice.

In a free society, even a society like ours with a capitalist economy, workers should never be treated as commodities – that is injustice. Workers are important resources that need to be treated with dignity, respect, listened to, and given the opportunity for personal growth in their work-life.

But more than that, collective bargaining is a human right. Our nation has led the way in developing a high-quality, educated workforce; that’s what gives us our economic advantage in the world. To step back and deny workers the right to collectively bargain is both short-sighted and wrong. Simply stated, the governor is wrong in trying to take away the right of workers to collectively bargain. Workers have the right to protest and even strike to assure this right is not taken away. People of faith, and belief in a God of justice, need to support them in this important struggle which is, essentially, a spiritual practice!

Visitations

A number of years ago, after my mother had died, I found myself questioning her relationship with the faith in which she was raised and raised my sister and me.  My mother was always quiet, complex, and guarded -- almost secretive. 

At the time she died, I was not yet a priest, yet my newly-recovered faith and theological studies caused my to have some concern about my mother's spiritual destiny; concerns I had yet to raise even with Sabine.

Then one night, some months after she had died, I suddenly was awaken by a real presence of my mother in my roon standing at the end of my bed and her voice saying, "It's okay, David." I suddenly woke up and felt great peace and a strengthening of my belief in the after-life.

Now, another grief, some three decades later.  This time it was an unexpected death -- my son, Matthew's suicide. Five months had passed since that tragic day.  Five long months, hundreds of family conversations, and at least a gallon or more of tears along with self-incrimination, guilt, sense of loss and overwhelming sadness.

Then it came.  Another night time "visitation" surprisingly similar.  Another dream. This time my son, who died in his early forties, appeared as a young boy, perhaps ten years of age.  He is wearing a striped t-shirt and shorts.  He stands in front of me, happy and peaceful; a smile on his face. He says to me, "it's okay, Dad, I know you love me!"  I am suddenly awake, tears streaming down my face. Yes, it is okay.  There is much more in both life and death than we can ever see.

Lazy Spirituality

Is there a spirituality of doing nothing? I think so. Because for the past few weeks that’s what I have been doing. I hope that the creation story about how God worked is a model for us as well -- six days of creative energy and then a day of rest -- a Sabbath. The Sabbath is Sunday for most Christians, Saturday for Jews and Friday for Muslims; while the day differs, the intent is still the same -- “on the seventh day, God rested” and so should we. But what if we rested more than one day a week? Is that okay?


Now I must admit that I have a tendency to work, work, and then over-work. Even in my so-called “retirement” I continued to work. Iwent off to seminary. Worked as a parish priest. Even after Sabine got sick, I dove into writing. “Moss doesn’t grow on a rolling stone,” I remember my grandmother saying. Work is what we do.

But is there anything worthwhile, redeemable, in totally doing nothing? Sitting back, rocking on the porch, fishing, just hanging out? Are we called to be productive with the lives God has given us ALL the time? It seems that work takes up more than half of our waking hours. Maybe we have over-done it and we need to balance our days along the Rule of Benedict: equal amounts of prayer, study, and work during the day?

I have been on “vacation” for the past two weeks now. I haven’t done much: visited my children and grandchildren for a couple of days, visited some friends of ours in Orlando (yes, we did go to the Café Tu Tu Tango and act a little crazy!). But it’s vacation, right? Vacating ourselves from daily tasks and, in our case, as it turned out, from the Great Blizzard of 2011!

Now as we enter the last week of our vacation we have set aside this time at the beach for just the two of us -- just basking in each other’s presence. Enjoying one another. This is what I love about vacation is that we can really focus on one another. In order to do this, I vowed to finish my book before we went on vacation (and I did!) so Sabine would have a relaxed (and less obsessive) vacation partner. That helped a lot.

And now as we continue our daily regimen of getting up early, taking a long walk on the beach, coming back for breakfast and then dialysis, life has greatly slowed down. Afternoons are just as lazy, a nap, some reading, and then maybe a play at the Barn Theater in nearby Stuart.

Maybe it’s because of the cancer that we have been more focused on “carpe diem” -- seizing the day and on living life to its fullest. But then I think we were always like this (though I am probably wrong in my recollection). We don’t know how much time we have together (but then you don’t either, do you?) and we are totally committed (body and soul) to our relationship that is now on its 30th year. It’s been a good and full life. Every day now is a magnificent gift from God.

At the same time, I am sure that God understands that for the past couple of weeks I have rested for about six days and only “worked” about one. I know God is merciful, forgiving, and loving. I am sure she understands.

Surviving an Emotional "Double-Tap"

I just finished my 5th men’s retreat in Chetek, WI (just north of Eau Claire). It was cold outside, but great on the inside -- with “burning hearts” we made another incredible journey deep into our lives and deep into the life of God.


Those of you who have being reading this blog know how committed I am to this all-volunteer men’s retreat called, “One Year to Live.” The first time I attended this retreat it helped change my life and, I think it’s fair to say, made me a better husband and father.

But now, looking back, it did even more for me. This retreat-experience and the men whom I befriended and befriended me (yes, I can say whom I love and who love me!) help save my life. Why do I say this?

Last summer after thinking that we had control of my wife’s cancer, it came raging back. Within a few weeks of that, one of my sons committed suicide in California. I was a cop for over thirty years. One thing we learned in combat shooting was something called the “double tap.” This came about after some research surrounding the “effectiveness” of shootings. Frequently, an assailant would not be put down with one shot from a handgun – research showed you needed two, and you needed to fire them sequentially within a few seconds of time. This became the “double tap” in combat shooting.

This summer, I got hit by an emotional “double tap” and I went down. My dear wife was a major player in my recovery even though she is fighting an incurable cancer along with my surviving children. But she couldn’t do it alone. She was fighting this cancer. So when I got back home for the memorial service, and after my children had returned home, I needed something else, I needed my brothers in Christ. And they stepped up to the plate. They visited me, they prayed for me and after a few months I was able to fully function again. I was slowly getting on my feet – I was moving from casualty to survivor.

As a cop, I was lucky (blessed) none of the bullets that were fired at me hit me. For that I am deeply thankful. But then there were the emotional hits I took: the multiple fatality traffic accidents and being a member of the police underwater recovery unit and recovering those bodies in the lakes of Minneapolis. For the adults I recovered, I could always “re-frame” the situation as the person had a chance to live into adulthood. But for the children. The children were something else. Having a number of young children in my own home made this an entirely different situation for me. I remember one child I recovered one bright afternoon in Cedar Lake who had fallen out of a boat. And there he was, hands-together as if in prayer, sitting on the bottom of the lake. It took a year of Clinical Pastoral Education at age 56 to work through the grief I had suppressed over the years I was a police officer. And it was love that did it, not more information in my head.

So this morning, after an intense weekend, all this has come back to me again – it’s the love – the love I see absent in so many men today. Generally, men are alone and lonely. Sure, those of us who are blessed by marriage have our wives (and God bless them or we wouldn’t have made it this far).

But as much as I love and need and respect and cherish my wife, I know today that I also need men in my life. And today, more than ever, I cherish these “no-bullshit,” highly-accountable relationships that I have been able to develop. And this has happened primarily through these retreats.

Tired as I am this morning, I look back again to this weekend and the absolute out-pouring of God’s Spirit I saw this weekend -- just as it has in each and every weekend I have attended! As I awoke this morning, I sensed God was giving me a word of scripture. Words that I need to hear and to try and understand. Words of passionate love that God is so desperately trying to say to those people, those new Christ-followers in that small church at Ephesus:

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power… to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. (Chapter 3, v. 17-18).
I am over seventy years in age and it has taken this long to really understand (grasp) that power and how wide and long and high and deep it is. It is a protective power that in the worst of life’s tragedies (those “double-taps” in life) we can survive -- and not only survive, but to live, and grow, and thrive.

Thanks be to God!

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If you are interested, the next local One Year to Live retreats are:

The Mackenzie Center (near Poynette)

     March 25-27, 2011
     September 16-18, 2011
         (the cost is usually under $200)

For more info and One Year Live Retreats see:
http://www.lutheranmeninmission.org/events/oytl.html

Playfulness and Spirituality (Holiness)

A few days ago Christians entered into the liturgical season of the Epiphany – the manifestation of the Light of Christ not just to Jesus’ brothers and sisters, but to ALL the world! 

This, as it always does this time of year, gets me thinking about the Light of Christ.  Who is it? What is it?  And what I came to mind was this (and maybe this is not fair, but stay with me...): I thought about the world’s religious leaders; those whom most of us know -- at least through the media.  There is, of course, the Pope, the Dalai Lama, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and maybe for some of us the head of the American Evangelical Association.  All of them are known to a great part of the world. 

But, here's my question: In which of these people do I see the Light of Christ?

I will have to confess that I see it in the Dalai Lama and not so much in the others.  Why? Because I sense wisdom, humility, humor, compassion, and, yes, playfulness, in him.  To me, there is a link between playfulness and godliness; between playfulness and even holiness. 

It is in being playful that we can try to get away from our arrogance and self-centeredness.  Being playful (especially when discussing theology) is being open to the “other;” to seeking truth, to seeing the Christ in other people, and to new possibilities. 

I don’t see seriousness as one of the fruits of the Spirit; instead, it seems to breed arrogance and claiming only we have the truth.  Playfulness is really about dancing with the Spirit of God; dancing with ideas, new life and personal transformation.  But above all playfulness is about love – the grand movement of love in and out of our lives. 

At the same time, playfulness is ego-shedding and when we can shed some of our ego, our self-centeredness (even a little bit!) there become more room for God in us.  You know, I bet Jesus was quite playful in his relationships.

So, come on, let’s play!

For an example of what I am talking about see the Dalai Lama at a press conference:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osVowEWEyAs

Against Religion

For a number of years I have subscribed to the Christian Century, a progressive monthly magazine on things Christian. Often, one of their articles grabs me as did Douglas John Hall’s article this month: “Against Religion: The Case for Faith.” Hall taught at McGill University in Montreal for years and is the author of many provocative books including, The Cross in Our Context: Jesus and the Suffering World. What he had to say is worth our consideration; especially those of us who struggle with the obvsious differences between the Christian religion and the faith of Jesus. I have tried to summarize the main points of his essay below -- especially the difference between religion and faith.


Hall begins with a quotation by prominent atheist, Richard Dawkins, written on the day after the attacks on September 11, 2001:

[Heretofore] many of us saw religion as harmless nonsense. Beliefs might lack supporting evidence but, we thought, if people needed a crutch for consolation, where’s the harm? September 11th changed all that. Revealed faith is not harmless nonsense, it can be lethally dangerous nonsense. Dangerous because it gives people unshakeable confidence in their own righteousness. Dangerous because it gives them false courage to kill themselves, which automatically removes normal barriers from killing others. Dangerous because it teaches enmity to others [who are] labeled only by a difference in inherited tradition. And dangerous because we have all bought into a weird respect, which uniquely protects religion from normal criticism. Let’s now stop being so damned respectful. The Guardian, September 12, 2001.

Okay, let's!  Our spiritual traditions: namely Amos' denunciation of religious pomposity or the more scathing letters to the churches of Asia Minor in the Book of Revelation. It was also the young Karl Barth who wrote, “The message of the Bible is that God hates religion.” What “we must say [of religion] is that it is the one great concern of godless men.” Then there is Paul Tillich in his sermon “The Yoke of Religion;”

We call Jesus the Christ not because He brought a new religion, but because He is the end of religion, above religion and irreligion, above Christianity and non-Christianity. We spread his call because it is the call to every person in every period to receive the New Being, that hidden saving power in our existence, which takes from us labor and burden, and gives rest to our souls.

And Dietrich Bonhoeffer contrasted two important biblical stories: The story of the Tower of Babel and the day of Pentecost. The Tower was an attempt to grasp God; to possess God – as it turned out, a tragic and futile effort! On the other hand, Pentecost is no longer humans trying to grasp God, but the divine Spirit descending and transforming human beings from within. Pentecost, the birth of our faith, is all about reconciliation -- even among those who cannot fully understand one another. This is powerful stuff. It is the caution uttered by St Augustine in the 4th century: “Si comprehendis, non est Deus” – “If you think you understand, it’s not God you’re talking about”). What better words of caution for today?  But does not organized religion seek an exclusive certitude of God?

As soon as the Christian faith took upon itself to be a religion – a religious establishment – the very experience that once gave birth to a “community of faith” is lost and corrupted. What is lost is the “experience” of faith, of trust not in an individual or institution, but in, as Hall describes, a “transcendent Presence that defies containment, definition, or even comprehension. A religion that wants to commend itself to everyone and to dominate (to be Christendom) cannot afford to be self-critical. It must be promotional, upbeat, positive (my emphasis).

This, Hall reminds us, is what happens when religion seeks “imperial status.” And when imperial status is being sought, out goes critique and doubt – "our way or the highway!" I find great comfort in Hall’s critique of religion (versus faith) especially in the light of most religions (or even denominations within Christendom) stating that they alone have the truth.

This is a time in human history in which we all need to live with the religious diversity that surrounds us in an increasingly smaller planet with diminishing resources. Religion is about certitude and finality and has little interest in other claims of truth. Instead, it develops a "spirituality" that is closed and zealously guarded and, as Hall, cautions, breeds seeds of its own destruction:

With its clamoring for ultimacy, its frenetic triumphalism, its incapacity for existential doubt and the entertainment of alternatives, such religion inevitably courts violent opposition. The newly minted atheism of today understands this an capitalizes on it. It argues with a kind of dogged logic, that the only way humankind can avoid the great catastrophes to which this situation points is by dispensing altogether with “the God delusion.”

To Hall, faith is “awe and trust in the presence of the holy.” Faith will always be a part of religion, but “the thoughtfully faithful will nevertheless be able to distinguish between what comes of faith and what comes of religion. And the greatest distinction of all in this contrast will always lie in the readiness of faith, unlike religion, to confess its radical incompleteness and insufficiency – indeed, its brokenness.”

Hall concludes with a quote Jacques Ellul and what he had to say about faith and what I, too, believe faith is:

Faith… puts to test every element of my life and society… It leads me to ineluctably question my certitudes, all my moralities, beliefs and policies. It forbids me to attach ultimate significance to any expression of human activity. It detaches and delivers me from money and the family, from my job and my knowledge. It’s the surest road to realizing that “the only thing I know is that I don’t know anything.” (Living Faith: Belief and Doubt in a Perilous World, translated by Peter Heinegg).

This is the kind of faith we need today. Not the religious bravado of certitude and exclusivism. Faith, not religion, is the prerequisite for religious dialogue today – and, ultimately, faith is essential for our very survival as human beings living in a diverse, cramped, and unequal world -- not religion.

Being You, Seeking Light

I ran into a great story to begin the new year and to think about our spiritual growth in the coming months:

I am about to face the Holy One, blessed be He, and justify my sojourn on the world. If He will ask me: Zussye, why were you not like Moses? I shall respond, because you did not grant me the powers you granted Moses. If He will ask me: Zusye, why were you not like Rabbi Akiba? I shall respond because you did not grant me the powers you granted Rabbi Akiba. But the Almighty will not ask me why I was not like Moses or why I was not like Rabbi Akiba. The Almighty will ask me: Zussye, why were you not like Zussye? Why did you not fulfill the potential which was Zussye, and it is for this question that I tremble. (Rav Zussye)

So, why aren't we ourselves?

Last week was the Epiphany and the first reading for that day comes from Isaiah 60:1-2:

Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the LORD rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.

It really is all about LIGHT isn't it?  Being light.  If we wallow in darkness and hang around with those who live in darkeness, so shall we be. This past Sunday, I asked my parishioners, "Who is the light in your life?"  How do you answer this question?  Who is the person(s) who have brought light and direction into your life, who have helped you grow as a decent, spiritual, God-fearing person? (You can pause here and think about this question...)

Nevertheless, if we have no such "light-person," then we should be called to SEEK out those who shine light into the world.  You know them when you see them.  Along this line, I am reminded of a book of poetry by Elizabeth Alexander with the captivating title: CRAVE RADIANCE.

Isn't that what we all should be doing -- absolutely CRAVING radiance?  Alexander's poem, "Praise Song for the Day" was read at President Obama's inauguration.  This is the ending (or beginning):

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,

others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

Amen.  A praise song for walking forward in and into that LIGHT!  Let's roll!

The New Year

Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the LORD rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.
[Isaiah 60:1-2]

This is the first reading for the Feast of the Epiphany -- a day we seem to forget.  It is the day we remember God's promise in Isaiah; that the glory of the Lord is for the whole world blasting away the thick darkness that often covers us.

In two weeks, I will join my brothers in Christ in Chetek, WI, just north of Eau Claire for another "One Week To Live" (OYTL) men's retreat. (I have a number of writings on this site about my experience with OYTL.  It is a great weekend (Jan 15-17) for all men of faith to experience.  IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO SIGN UP!

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I recently came across this piece written by the Catholic monk, Thomas Merton.  He wrote this in the 1960s, but his words apply so much to today's life.  Let these words be your meditation for the coming year as you plan to grow spiritually...

We live in the time of no room, which is the time of the end. The time when everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, with saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and space the anguish produced within them by the technological furies of size, volume, quantity, speed, number, price, power and acceleration.



The primoridial blessing, "increase and multiply," has suddenly become a hemorrhage of terror. We are numbered in billions, and massed together, marshalled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment, surfeited with everything, nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.


As the end approaches, there is no room for nature. The cities crowd it off the face of the earth. As the end approaches, there is no room for quiet. There is no room for solitude. There is no room for thought. There is no room for attention, for the awareness of our state.

In the time of the ultimate end, there is no room for us.


[Source: Thomas Merton, Raids on the Unspeakable, 1966]

Spreading the Ashes

It will soon be three months after Matt's death.  In October we gathered the family together for a blessed memorial service on a hill near our home in Blue Mounds.  We called it "Restoration Point;" a geographical place and a spiritual beginning for our family.

Matt's seven-year-old daughter could not join us at the time and his ashes got delayed in Los Angeles.  When his ashes arrived at Blue Mounds we set a date to enable his two daughters to spread his ashes on the hill and around his memorial stone. 

We went up the hill the day before the big snowstorm on Saturday, December 11th.  There was snow on the ground and the temperature was in the 30s. 

After lighting a fire, we spread the ashes on the hill and around the memorial stone, said a comittal prayer for Matt from the Book of Common Prayer:

"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our son, father, brother and friend Matthew, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious to him, the Lord lift up his countenance upon him and give him peace. Amen."

Yes, Lord, bless him and give him peace.  Amen.

As for me, the deep, almost crippling, sadness has diminished.  I continue to going to counselling at the VA Center and continue to be in deep conversation with all my children and Sabine along with other close friends.  It is a combination of prayer and loving relationships that will pull me through all of these tragedies that I have experienced during these past three years.  The grief goes with the journey.

An Open Letter to Christian Men

The Forge

FORGE: to shape, make something; to invent; to come up with an idea; to move steadily ahead. A forge is a workplace where metal is worked by heating and hammering. Many of us are also familiar with the proverb, “Iron sharpens iron, just like one man sharpens another” (Prov 27:17).

How is it we men are to sharpen one another except by entering into a forge – there to be fired, shaped and molded into that which we desire?  To be the men of iron God created us to be and to be a sharp “sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Eph 6:16)?

Brothers, tell me how this is possible unless we specifically submit ourselves to God and train for this? We all know the difficulty of solitary training and the fact that we train best in a group or team; a community of men seeking to be “sharp” for God, strong, men of integrity and men after God’s own heart! The Bible often describes the Jesus-life as running and finishing a great race (1 Cor 9:24, Gal 2:2, 2 Tim 4:7, and Heb 12:1). Many of us know that we cannot compete unless we train according to plan. And the greater the race, the more intensity and length of our training.

Some of us have been on the “One Year to Live” men’s retreat, others of us have had experience in “Promise Keepers” or in a strong men’s bible study group. We know we are best when we come together in community. By these experiences, many of us know now what is possible – we know our potential and we also know we are not there yet! And we won’t get there, we won’t grow unless we submit ourselves to be further formed, conformed, and eventually transformed into a greater likeness of Christ. And we also know how easy it is to quit!

Many of us are no longer satisfied in our Christ-walk to be simply admirers or believers in Jesus – we want to be his disciple. And we know deep in our “heart of hearts” that we cannot do it alone – we need God’s grace and blessing and we need to honesty of being in deep relationship with and accountable to other men.

We cannot do this with our wives or dearest friends. We cannot even do it in church on Sunday. It takes special training where “iron” sharpens “iron.” If we are truly serious about being a Jesus-disciple and standing up for God we will have to DO something about it and stick to it. To do this, we are going to have to go to a forge.

A forge is where iron is made and formed – it’s noisy, hot and sweaty; but things get done there. It is where a sharpened edge is put on an iron sword. The forge is where men help other men imitate Jesus and closely follow him. It is a place where strong discipleship is formed, sharpened, and practiced.

I think men should have a place called The Forge.  They should meet there weekly. But I understand that each one of us have work and family commitments. So I am suggesting that we begin with a monthly get-together at The Forge; a place where we can have a fellowship meal together, share our struggles, support and give healing to one another; a place where transformation is not only encouraged, but expected.

I am looking for a “few Godly men” who will sign on to get together once a month for “forging and sharpening;” a place and time where we can improve our lives as fathers, husbands, workers, neighbors, and friends. When we improve one sector of our lives, the others have a better chance of improving as well.  Remember, the things we do today to become more Christ-like can make an eternal difference in us, our families and our relationships!

Men, are you in?  Will you consider being part of The Forge?

Knocked down, but not out!

I was reminded of Psalm 42 this week, the part where the psalmist cries out that all God's "waves and breakers" have poured over him.

Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?...
My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you...
Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
(vv. 5-7)

This week I was feeling more and more sad, Sabine noticed it, my daughters who had begun to assemble for Thanksgiving saw it, too.  This is not the best place for a primary caregiver to be.  I owed Sabine more than trying to struggle with this by myself.

I think it was not only Matt's death, but also knowing that Sabine's cancer was back that was the final blow.

So, yesterday afternoon, after we had met with Sabine's oncologist, I decided to take action and "practice what I preached."  I walked into the mental health intake wing at the Veteran's Hospital in Madison and checked in for an evaluation.  They confirmed what I thought was going on -- I had enough more than enough "waves and breakers" roll over me during the past three years: Granddaughter Allison's death, Sabine's cancer diagnosis, her stem cell transplant, Matt's suicide, and now Sabine's cancer flaring up again.  I was beginning to suffer from depression.

If this had happened twenty years ago I might have resisted going to a therapist.  I don't have as many pretensions now as I did then and thankfully God led my heart to pursue what I knew needed to be done and made me a wiser man.

At the mental health unit, I met with a therapist and psychiatrist and we decided that I would start individual "one on one," weekly therapy for my symptoms (and not to begin drug therapy right now).  Instead, we would check on how the therapy and my sadness was progressing.

Depression was something I did not expect.  But thankfully I am at a place in my life that I know what my priorities are and what I need to do to keep myself on my own two feet.

This is a big step for me.  But I am confident that it was the right thing to do and thankful that I did not more strongly deny and resist it (I did for a couple of days -- "I can get through this!").

Psalm 42 ends with this note of encouragement.  It is advice I will take.

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

To that I say, AMEN.

God is my hope and my salvation!

My journey continues...

Just when you think it's getting better...

There are good days... times when I feel I am moving forward, healing, moving out of daily grieving, out of the anger, the sense of loss and guilt -- and then it happens... again.  Why does this surprise me?  In my head, I know this is part of the process... I read all about it in seminary!  But my heart seems to have forgotten.

Matt had been the repository of a set of hundred of family slides from the 1970s through 80s.  Hundreds of them... he kept them with him despite his ups and downs.  His brother and I found the slides in his room after his death.  He has now digitalized them and put them online so that we all can see them.

It started out just fine.  I was looking forward to seeing this historical account of our family in its early years.  I thought about the years we spend houseboating on the Mississippi River... camping... bicycle racing on the Kenosha track and racing on midwestern roads.  And in winter, cross-country ski racing and the Birekbeiner.

There were family trips to Toronto and  Niagra Falls and other places... family get-togethers... and then the feelings, the emotions, came rolling over me...  anger, loss, blame, grief -- you name it.  Chest-tightening stuff.

And then the realization that I might not have much time left with Sabine.  That another loss was looming on my horizon.  The stem cell transplant is not holding... her "numbers" are going up...

I realized that when this happend to other stem cell recipients in our support group it has been the start of a two-year fatal crash.

One side of me says that we are making great strides in cancer research and treatment protocols (that's my head), but my heart aches, even as I write this I feel that tightening in my chest agian, the start of tears...

The holidays are coming up... Thanksgiving and then Christmas.  They will be different in so many ways this year.  I realize that out of Matt's death has come the blessing of healing and restoration in the Couper family (the sweetness mixed in with our grief). 

I know I need to keep myself healthy and upbeat as Sabine's "battle buddy."  I need to be fully present for her.

The range of emotions I am experiencing with these two events almost become ovewhelming.  Yet I am committed to going through this (not around it only to revisit at a future date and time). 

Going through this will not be easy nor do I know how long it will take.  I sense God's presence with me, in my life and in the lives of my close friends.

My suicide support group meets again tonight.  I think I need to be there even though family members are assembling at the farm for Thanksgiving.  I also am realizing I may need more intense "one on one" help. 

Prayer has become life-giving... wandering the desert, lost and thirsty, I find an oasis with clean, fresh spring-water.  I am reminded of Psalm 107:

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;

his love endures forever. ..

Some wandered in desert wastelands,

finding no way to a city where they could settle.

They were hungry and thirsty,

and their lives ebbed away.

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress.

The Power of Story

The power of a story, of a narrative, is that it can become our story and connect us as a people who all find ourselves on the same journey.  For example, I often find comfort in the great biblical stories: Job's faithfulness in the midst of great loss, how God chose Jacob, a trickster and deceiver, and also David, who cheated and killed Bathsheba's husband, but God knew that David was a man after God's own heart.  God certainly loves to qualify the unqualified!

David: shepherd, poet, warrior, and leader -- a God-seeker.  Last week I was thinking about my name and my namesake.  I was thinking about the story of my life and my family and this flowed from my pen:

__________________________________

THE STORY OF THE HOUSE OF DAVID

This is a story about David and his House. It is not about the David of the Bible, but it is also not too unlike his story either. From the beginning, David was blessed by God because God gave him many things and prospered him in his life. David knew God, but not personally; he only knew “about” God. David either forgot or ignored God during most of his life. Yet God still blessed David, prospered his House with beautiful and talented children and wives because God had a plan for David. And David, remembering God, brought each child to the temple were they were baptized and dedicated to God just like the parents of David and his wives had been in the past.


While David pursued his career, grew his family, God continued to pour out more of his blessings and protection upon David and his House because God wanted David to know him. David became a great leader and was acclaimed among his peers.


On day trouble came to the House of David; internal chaos and brokenness reigned between his wives and children. David did not know what to do. He did not ask God for help. And so the division continued and all were injured in some way -- including David. The House of David was now broken as hurt and blame and anger continued to reign.


God gave David another wife. His third wife was a loving tower of strength, a gifted warrior-woman who respected and encouraged David. Three more children were added into the family – now there were nine. Still David went about his life without God but continued to mourn his broken House. But God’s plan was now being unveiled as he showed David wisdom. God showed David his everlasting love and his plan for David. David learned how to become a godly husband and father. After many years as a warrior and faithful husband, David retired to the priestly life and became a man singularly after God’s heart – a man who prayed to God sought to deeply know God. So God revealed to David that he was more than the “beloved” man he thought he was (David thought his name only meant “beloved” in Hebrew and so God revealed to him that his name was “beloved of God.” And then God blessed him even more abundantly.


Now David was in his seventy-third year and the one gift that David really wanted was withheld from him – a restored House. And so David continued to pray each day for God to heal and restore his family; to bring the broken House of David together. Even though his third wife loved and consoled him, and many of his children loved and respected him, he still grieved for many of them were apart.


Then one day, a great tragedy struck the House of David. Matthew, who was a son, and father of two daughters grieving his broken family, took his own life. The House of David was now in great grief. And David cried out to God, “O God, help me to heal and restore this House and my children, I can do nothing, nor can any of us survive our broken hearts without you!”


And so the Lord God heard David. He looked down on him and his great grief and had compassion on him and his House and answered his prayer. And on the day that the House of David came together to mourn and remember Matthew, the Spirit of the Lord God came across the hills and fields as a warm October wind and passed over and touched each member of the House of David assembled on that hill called Restoration. And this began the healing that would one day fully restore the House of David, his children and his children’s children.


And David was exceedingly glad, praising God, and God’s love and grace. Then God said to David, “I am the LORD, your God, and a God who restores to the faithful that which was destroyed. What the locusts devour, I restore!”

And so the House of David continues its journey toward restoration and healing – even to the fourth generation -- and beyond. Thanks be to God!