The Two Things You Want Most

Escape into reality - that’s what a good book or film does for me. If it’s really good it makes me ask, “Isn’t life like that?” “Isn’t that beautiful, or true of relationships?” “Isn’t love just impossible, but when touched by grace, so worth it in the end?” Whether its a comedy that pokes at the absurdity and sadness of pretentious, selfish relationships (like the recent Ghost-Town movie), and then is able to melt your heart with the surprise of redemption, or a drama that marvelously hints at a hidden hand of Providence operating in the midst of our brokenness (Slum-dog Millionaire), stories and films can counsel our hearts and ask some great questions. (Yes, they can also be a whole lot of fun too – and that’s not at all bad, as CS Lewis noted).

Take the recent Rachel Getting Married film, now out on dvd, starring Anne Hathaway (written by Jenny Lumet and directed by Jonathan Demme). Watching this film with my wife and son was literally like being flies on the wall at a family week-end wedding party, where every detail – like life itself - had the potential to reveal some new aspect of brokenness and grace. The purposeful “camcorder” feel created by the hand-held camera work was also especially effective, bringing us (the “party guests”) up close and personal with a family that turns out to be not too unlike ours - trying desperately to figure out how love and relationships can look in a broken yet glorious world.

What does this have to do with counseling? Everything! Our lives are a story, unfolding every moment, pregnant with meaning. The details matter. Good questions help reveal them: What happened to you? What did you think/do about it? How are you now seeing yourself, others, and God in the middle of all this? Who (or what) are you really hoping in now? What are your struggles and joys?

Rachel Getting Married works as a film and a mirror for truth because it effectively reveals a world where each person’s heart has both a history and the wonderful opportunity for redemption. And like all of us, the characters are busy grappling with (as counselor and author Dan Allender notes) two great and motivating heart-desires: Who will love me? and (often), How can I get my own way? Think about it. Aren’t those two desires the source of most of the drama in your own life?

We’re All Addicted
How do those two questions take shape for each of us, especially in the kind of world that Rachel portrays? In a world where we battle with our own addictions (call them idols of the heart), just as Kym (played with wonderful realism in the film by Hathaway) battles with hers? It may not be the more dramatic addictions to alcohol, drugs, or sex, but the same root motivations and questions lie behind our quests for acceptance, comfort, and significance. Our lives may indeed look different on the outside, but inside, the situation has many similarities. This is because all of us long to respond in adoration to someone or something; to be swept up, dazzled, and “blown away.” It’s how we’re made.

Romans 1 clarifies this heart desire by explaining that our desire will either be wrapped around a glorious Creator, and enjoying His world in thankfulness to Him, or it will be something we’ve turned to in creation – whether a person, food, sex, etc.  But to the extent that you and I believe the lie that only some people are addicts – you know, the ones who really need rehab (like Kym, and the others at Narcotics Anonymous) we’ve missed the boat about grace. As screenwriter Jenny Lumet said in a recent interview with Glide magazine,

“…Some people are addicted to information – there are people who can’t leave their house without their Blackberry. I know a lot of people who are just addicted to plain old drama. Like, how about a nice non-dramatic day? No, no!”

To Be Loved
So where do you tend to look for your desire for love, for acceptance, for approval? In the film, and in life, it is the desire to be loved when we’re at our very worst which catches us up short. Plagued with guilt over how her addictions contributed to the drowning death of her brother, Kym attends a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. When she finally speaks, one line is particularly illuminating:

“I struggle with God so much…and sometimes I don't want to believe in a God that could forgive me. But I do want to be sober...”

What does Kym really want? Behind the swirling mix of wounded pride, guilt, and destructive behavior, lies the prospect of actual forgiveness and complete acceptance – to be a “maid of honor.” And yet, how could God actually forgive an addict and a murderer, and still be a good God? Isn’t that really the question for us as well? Maybe it’s because we want to see ourselves in a better light than as “murderers of God” (since it is our sin that necessitates Christ to bear our guilt and die) that we choose all our “God- substitutes.” Are you really telling me I can't fix it myself?

Exactly. But here, to our great surprise, is where the scandal of grace is best seen. While we’re busy seeking our own saviors that will somehow absolve us (or at least help us forget for awhile), Jesus offers to throw us a party – the likes of which we’ve never seen! At this party (as in the film) are all the freaks, the outcasts, the spiritually lame. And still bearing his own wounds of love, he welcomes each one!

“Come, all you who are thirsty…and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come buy wine and milk, without money, and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.” ~ Isaiah 55:1,2

The real scandal here is that the cost has already been paid by none other than God Himself. And He does it to love you - yes, even you. Counseling needs this truth at the very center, for it is the only valid answer to the cry of our soul: who will love me? The cross is indeed the place where "God’s justice and mercy kiss," and we are healed – again and again. And surprise - you are invited to this banquet of grace!

Do You Really Want Your Own Way?
You see, if we got our own way, you and I would opt for a self-salvation program. Many addicts do, which is why “the program” now becomes the new idol. (This is not to knock programs, but if they don’t lead to the banquet of grace in Christ, they’ve missed the boat.) However, we certainly need a family around us – spiritual brothers and sisters to help shoulder the burden of change for us, to keep us accountable, and away from what one counselor has called “a banquet in the grave.” Like Kym’s family, that family of grace called “the church” won’t be perfect (they’re fellow addicts too, just perhaps in different ways) but the more they keep their eyes on the wedding feast of grace, the closer we will all be to true celebration.

And that’s why this film becomes for us a great insight for counseling. Life - as it can be in Christ - is really about moving away from the lies that want to kill us (think of the moment where Kym wants to drive her car into a tree) and toward a wedding celebration – it’s the very purpose of history. It’s the purpose of your personal history. Your deep sorrows, your many tears will give way to laughter and incredible joy. You will, in fact, want to dance at this wedding celebration – like you’ve never danced before. But you will first show up, like Kym, battered and bruised, to let Christ wash you.

As the film ends, we're caught up in this most unlikely celebration. Everything isn’t perfect yet (life is still a battle for Kym), but there is now hope. The same is true for us: one day in the future, your heart will know what you’ve longed for all along. Just like the moment in a wedding when the bride is given to the bridegroom, you will know true joy, and will sit down to a banquet. So live right now in the hope of that great celebration. In fact, try celebrating grace right now, and in so doing, find the best answers for those two questions you and I are always asking.

(Note: Rachel Getting Married is Rated R for sex, drug use, and emotional violence. Like any film that seeks an accurate portrayal of addiction in a fallen world, these elements ought not surprise us. However, parents should certainly take this information into account before viewing with their children.)

The Way Up

Leave it to our surprising Father to turn our world upside down. Just when we think our equilibrium is returning, he'll introduce another reason to give us a bad case of vertigo (all done in love, of course, and to help us to our knees).

Take our way of talking, for example. After we've exhausted ourselves in an angry outburst that feels really good (otherwise, why do it?) he reminds us: "Now consider this: "a gentle word can break a bone (Proverbs 25:15)" - not to mention, a hard heart.  Hmmm. So "pumping up the volume," and looking more intense doesn't actually fly to win arguments? Or change my kid's behavior? (Not that I've given up on it altogether, you know.)

Or how about this one: "Humble yourself before me, and I will lift you up (Jas. 4:10 )." Now there's one that really goes against the grain! Does he really mean to imply that "the way up is actually the way down" - down to your knees? Yep, that's what he said!

Pixar's new movie Up provides a great opportunity to talk about such upside-down realities. Carl Fredricksen, the leading man and octogenarian in the film (now there's a novelty in a youth-obsessed culture) can actually float his house away with thousands of balloons, but it seems he can't lift his own heart. Grieving the loss of his beloved wife Ellie (and their beautiful, word-less montage of a life spent together at the film's beginning is worth the price of admission), the widowed, childless Carl (Ed Asner) believes that riding out his time in solitude and despair seems like a perfect idea. After all, to his mind there's just no way "up" - or is there?

Things are Looking Up
But "up" does come when (surprise), a small boy named Russel (Jordan Nagai) winds up on Carl's door-step, trying hard to earn his Wilderness Explorer service badge. (Take note whenever someone small shows up in a storyline. Remember how Frodo, Middle Earth's smallest guy, is the one who ends up as the ring-bearer; not to mention a certain baby who begins life in an animal feed-trough - then purposely chooses the weakness of a cross to triumph?)

Thrown together "by accident" when Carl decides to float away from it all, Russel (the son of an absentee-father) ends up with a most unpromising challenge: earning a service badge with a crotchety old man. At the same time, Carl is faced with the most unappealing - and humbling - prospect of coming out of himself to love again. The friendship that ensues between the two brings a whole new adventure that neither had in mind at the start. What could be more upside-down - and delightful - than that?

Knowing and Being Known
A story like this hits close to home and even brings tears, because we all relate in some way to Carl or Russel. Haven't we all experienced these heart-losses of some sort - whether of close relationship, or status, or even (like Carl) health-changes slowly leading to being more dependent on others (or at least a metal cane with tennis balls on the feet?) Why not just crawl safely inside our houses and hearts and slam the door shut tightly on the rest of the world? Who needs the challenge of real relationship anyway - of knowing others, and being known by them?

You do! This Father's day especially, see this important picture: like Russel, even if you are deeply missing a father who isn't around, know that there is One who invites you to share with him your heart. One who calls himself  "a Father to the father-less, a Defender of widows" (Ps. 68:5). Here, in the true God, is a surprisingly-present Father who holds out to you the "give and take" of honest relationship. One who invites you to actually speak and cry out to Him about your struggles and joys, for his ear is always attentive to your voice.

And this is how He works: He resists the proud, but reveals himself to little children, even to little "Russels" like you - who in turn can help melt the heart of a proud "Carl." This Father's undeserved grace always flows downhill - to the humble sinner on his knees - which is everyone who admits their great need and submits themselves to be loved. This Father is "full of compassion," and never tires of lifting you up in His embrace and renewing your tired heart with his prodigal ("extravagant") love. And this Father has forever written his love-letter of kindness and grace in the Gospel, for Jesus said, "to see me is to see the Father." So go ahead, call Him Abba ("daddy") Father:

"So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God's Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, "Abba, Father." (Romans 8:15)

Yes, this Father promises to literally turn your world upside down - but for your great good. The important thing to remember is that you deserve none of it, but he has left all his comforts to come down to you, and endure great pain, so you could be known. And so you could rise up, as a loved son or daughter. Old hearts of stone made soft - now what could be more upside-down than that?

Why the Card Didn't Come

Hello again, my friend,

Well, another Mother’s day, down the tubes. (I know you’re glad to see it gone. Sorry to bring it up again.)
And why shouldn’t you be, really? You’ve told me your stories. You’ve mentioned how you used to sit in church, dreading every Mother’s day while all the “good” mothers were being praised. You spoke of how you sat there and simmered, silently thinking, “But you don’t know my mother.” You’ve even mentioned how you might give Hallmark some interesting new suggestions.

I’ve also heard you – through buckets of tears - speak of your painful miscarriage(s) (between 10 and 25% of all pregnancies). You didn’t want to talk about the abortion you had (nearly 43% of all women) - which, you said if you even allowed yourself a moment to think about it, would tear you apart. I’ve heard you whisper, “let’s not even go there.” Sad but true, Mother’s day for you might just be the worst day of the year.

Well, if you’ll allow me, I want to make a new day, in your honor. Let’s call it, “Mercy Day.” But, my friend, be warned. Some churches won’t like it – you won’t really fit in to their happy schedule. As you well know, the greeting card industry won’t have a place for you either. Your family might even give you grief for mentioning the reason. Most of them won’t understand, or even try. But here’s some good news: your real Father (who also sounds a lot like a mother too) will. Listen to how He speaks:

“Can [your] mother forget the baby at her breast, and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” ~ Isaiah 49:15

Or,

“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you, and you will be comforted.” Isaiah 66:13

Beautiful stuff, huh? Little did you know, seven hundred years before Jesus came, God was speaking to Isaiah about you. He spoke because He knew that while most mothers would fight like a bear to protect her cubs, some (sadly) would forget. To you, the abandoned cub, He now speaks: there is great compassion and mercy at the hands of Jesus, indelibly etched there for you. He did fight for you, and he won. Call that day the real Mercy day.

And, my friend, though you never had good mothering, my prayer is that we may find you a spiritual mother to love you well (see Titus 2). His church is meant for just such things. But also remember - and here’s the other important part about Mercy day – no one really deserves it. It’s true – neither a mom who remembers, or one who forgets - actually deserves mercy. We’re all rebellious, and so it is extended to both in His cross.

Mercy day then becomes a challenge and an opportunity for you to extend mercy to the most undeserving (you know who I’m thinking of), precisely because God - the One who loves you better than even the best mother will - has shown it to the undeserving (you). Think about it, and we can talk later about what that may look like.

As well, I hope you know that Mercy day also acknowledges the pain of the “empty nest” you now know. It moves with compassion to comfort a mother (and father) who keenly feel that ache and loss, for “He is close to the broken-hearted.” Mercy day becomes an opportunity for us to acknowledge your very real loss as well, to draw close and let you know that we (your true family) remember you, and so does your Father. We can remember because real mercy flows ultimately from the heart of a Father who knows what it feels like to lose his beloved Son.

Well, perhaps you've guessed where I’m going with all this. Can you see that, in reality, every day is Mercy day for us? It’s only by His mercy that we get to stand here on this earth. Only by that mercy that we breathe, that our hearts beat, that we can try to love again. In fact it’s only by mercy that we can exclaim each day: “…His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22,23)

So allow me to be the first to wish you a “Happy Mercy Day.” May you live gratefully in that mercy, and find your true purpose in extending it to others. And who knows? Maybe you’ve got a future in the greeting card business after all.

Square One

I once heard the story of how that great champion of golf, Jack Nicklaus, (aka the “Golden Bear”) returned home to his favorite instructor, Jack Grout, with a seemingly odd request: “Teach me again how to golf.” Why, one might wonder, would the world’s greatest golfer - with more major title wins than anyone - need to ask such a thing?

The reason, Nicklaus said, had to do with returning to the basics when he was starting to forget: correcting his swing, keeping his head down, eye on the ball. Square-one stuff, as it were.

Getting back to square-one is important in golf and games of skill, but even more so when it comes to diagnosing matters of the heart. It’s especially necessary because our hearts are always getting lost, looking for ultimate value and meaning (essentially what the word “worship” means) in all the wrong places; “deceitful above all things,” is the way the prophet Jeremiah put it, and “desperately wicked” (see Jer. 17:9. Hey, not too p.c. there, Jerry!)

Returning to square-one then is really learning to see where our hearts have wound up - what sort of deep weeds they’ve gotten into - as well as our only real remedy out of the rough. With this in mind, here are some “square one” propositions worth telling your heart  (and especially so when you think Jeremiah just might be looking your way again):

1.) Listen - It’s All About Jesus.
Sounds cliché I know, but it really is. Speak this loudly to your heart, again and again. All your deepest questions about your purpose and place in this world begin and end in him. When Jesus summarized the whole Bible as really pointing to Himself, saying that the entire Old Testament Scriptures spoke of Him (Lk. 24:27), he was giving us a huge square-one truth: It’s His cross that stands as the center-piece of history, and which is rebellious mankind’s only hope.

Ask your heart, “is it possible you’ve gotten off track and thought it was really all about you – your need to be right,  to be approved of and look good, and be esteemed? Welcome back to sanity, and clarity: you're worse than you ever thought you were, but Jesus' grace is so much better than you ever dreamed. Jesus alone has what you need most – grace, forgiveness, identity, approval, love, and even a new family to help you remember…that it’s really all about Him.

2.) You are Here to Love.
Again, this could sound sort of trite, if it weren’t true. As counselor Ed Welch notes, it’s inevitable: what you find in your relationship with people is what you find in your relationship with God. Have you tasted his grace, the grace of Jesus, who shows you what love really looks like – by laying down his very life – for you? The “square-one” truth is this: you will only love to the degree that you know how much you are loved.

This means that your true purpose – the whole reason why you exist, is in fact, love. (This tends to sort out a lot of foggy thinking about what you should do with yourself in your spare time too). It’s all wrapped up in two nice summary statements by Jesus: love God with all your heart, mind, and strength; followed by the second - love your neighbor as yourself.

But wait! Don’t click this article off without noting the vitally important square-one corollary to this truth: You can try these two things (the summation of all the law) but you will never do either of them perfectly - but that’s why going back to our first proposition is so vitally important. Jesus has loved enough for the both of you, and the secret is, the more you learn to rest in His performance, and to the degree that you know how much you are loved, you’ll actually be thinking more of others, and worrying less about you. Like I told you, Jesus has what you really need – and it’s a whole lot of love.

3.) He’s Bigger Than You, and By the Way, He Owns the World.
I know you wonder about things like “how can I manage “my world” and not get hurt?” As one of my pastor friends put it this past Sunday, “What if the mountains, i.e. the so-called stable places and people in your life, really do fall into the heart of the sea?" (Psalm 46). The answer is another square-one truth, as he went on to say: Jesus really is bigger and better than anything – including any person, place, or thing you can dream up, even in your wildest of dreams. And it is His world, as He reminded Job in the darkness of that whirlwind with all those nature and astronomy lessons, so He wisely knows what He’s doing with you too.

So when you forget that, and you probably will - remember that He will never, ever, forget you; you are more loved than all the many birds of this earth which he feeds, and the myriad beautiful flowers that he clothes with uncommon splendor (Matt.6:25-34). Then you’ll remember that you were made to find joy in worshipping and enjoying Him, the One who says “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20)

Do me a favor and bring me back to "square-one" when I forget, will you?

You Have Prayer

Remember that great scene at the end of Bruce Almighty (and if you haven’t seen this 2003 film by now, read no further and go rent it!) when Bruce is walking in the rain and begins to pray? Frustrated and spent from all his failed attempts to “play God,” Bruce (Jim Carrey) groans his only prayer to the skies that now seem to weep for him: “I don’t want to be God anymore…I want you to decide what’s best for me!” Is there a better prayer for us when we realize we’ve lost our way?

Bruce Almighty is actually a story that comically reveals some of our deepest (and most tragic) issues – hugely relevant for counseling - in wonderful style - one of the most important being why and how we pray.

Why We Don’t Pray
As the story of Buffalo news reporter Bruce Nolan’s experience unfolds, we're helpfully shown why he doesn’t trust conversation with God. The evening anchorman position (the “Walter Cronkite” job of his dreams) seems finally in his grasp – only to be given to a undeserving schmuck (a hilarious Steve Carrel). Anger at God – the One who gives life and work and can also take it away - seems perfectly justified. Life isn’t working out as Bruce planned, so God can’t be good, can He? Capricious, mean-spirited? Probably. Certainly not worth trusting! So why not take matters into our own hands?

Invited by God (Morgan Freeman) to his "Omni Presents" company, Bruce is given the chance to do just that - a fascinating opportunity because its essentially how we we want to live anyway. But as the world begins to fall apart - the natural outcome of a such a choice - Bruce learns the obvious truth: he is not wise, nor can he bring about what is really best through his selfish choices.

Most of us know only too well how disappointment easily morphs into bitterness and neglect of others (including God), replaced by the “golden calf” that now fills our thought-life and desires. Wrapped up in our self-referential focus, as evidenced in our quest for self-esteem, approval, or penchant to live in self-pity (all powerful narcotics), we stop believing that His way is actually best for us. So why have conversation with Him? Playing God seems a much better option.

What Prayer Can Show Us
At first glance, it's easy for me to think how foolish this scenario seems. But isn't every selfish choice a small attempt to "play God" in my life too? So, what if I could learn to stop – before my life completely unravels like Bruce’s – and learn to push the “pause-button” on my heart to examine closer (as David Powlison wisely says) what I might be missing? Could part of the purpose of prayer, even in the seemingly mundane details of everyday life and work, actually be to bring me “face-to-face” with the real God – so that I also begin to see me and my experience in a new light? (John Calvin was one who famously noted this important “knowledge of God/knowledge of myself” connection in the first paragraph of his Institutes.)

Prayer – even one where we wrestle like Jacob to know God’s blessing - immediately ushers us into some new realities that we desperately need to see. Let’s consider two which also come through in a wonderfully insightful way in the story of Bruce Nolan.

1.) Father, your grace alone is what holds us up…
I love the fact that Bruce’s love-interest in the film (played appealingly by Jennifer Anniston) is named Grace! While Bruce rants and is preoccupied elsewhere, she loves and supports him anyway, just as the grace of God supports us through all our wanderings. And while most of us aren’t so bold to believe we can walk on water (at least, not all of the time!) as Bruce does at one point in the film – and inevitably runs into God – somehow it seems easier to believe we are the ones holding ourselves and our family up in the mundane, everyday stuff of life.

Remember Jonah’s prayer when he sank down into the deep, seaweed wrapped around his head? "Salvation belongs to our God,” he finally cried (see 2:9), safe in the belly of a great fish we could also call “Grace.” God would later use him to extend grace to a ruthless people (the Assyrians), a disappointing fact that Jonah hated. Of course God doesn’t need us one bit, but by His grace He is pleased to use us – and our prayers - to bring Himself glory in His great redemption plan and ongoing transformation of sinners.

Prayer then is an opportunity to pierce the “forgetfulness of the mundane” with the light of the Divine, showing us how even the small things matter (just as Grace serves the small children in her daycare) and to confess who really holds us up. We are here for love, and only can do so by His goodness, wisdom, and grace.

2.) …and You, the Wonderful Counselor, can bring real change.
Particularly relevant to counseling, prayer is also the intentional “giving of another” (as John Eldredge puts it) to God to do the changing. Just as prayer reminds us of who God really is – a reality that Bruce and we so desperately need - we ask God in prayer that He would do what only He can, and that is turn stone hearts into soft flesh. Recognizing this, we must ask ourselves, “Is there a part of me (even a secret part) that thinks I can control or “effect” change in another by my own force of will, fine theological arguments and precise counsel?” Do I ever act as if throwing a Bible verse at a person and saying “just do it” will bring change? If so, I have begun to play God (or a warped version of Him) like Bruce – instead of seeing myself as a fellow beggar and an instrument to bring others to Him and His transforming Gospel of grace.

There's a great scene in the film along these lines, and it comes when Grace weeps a prayer on her bed to God to “Help me to let him (Bruce) go.” She realizes she doesn’t want to attach herself to a life with him as any kind of false savior. Yes, she still loves him, but loving him now means “letting him go” to reap what he sows, just as the Father does for his rebellious child (Luke 15:11-32) who once tasted of His grace. This scene reminds us that entrusting another ultimately to God is a vital posture toward the whole relational process of change, remembering who the real Holy Spirit is – (and it’s not us.)

Finally then, with the recognition of the centrality of grace, and reliance on the Sovereign work of God in human hearts and in counseling, let us finish the prayer….

“You, our Father, promise to be close to the broken-hearted. Help us trust you, the real God. Show yourself strong to save, show yourself the lover of our souls, even as you have already in the Gospel of the cross and resurrection – the triumphant defeat of sin and death through your Son, and the glorious redemption, new identity, and transforming power you give as a gift of grace to those who simply believe. Help us to know how wide, and how long, and how high, and how deep your love for us really is.  Amen."

(Note: It’s worth mentioning that, unfortunately, many Christians avoided Bruce Almighty completely, wrongly surmising they couldn’t relate to the idea of blasphemy. They must have forgotten that the redemption of blasphemers – which is what the film demonstrates so creatively and well - is precisely what Jesus came to do. Did they also forget that the entire Bible is chock full of characters who do ugly and blasphemous (not to mention just plain laughable) things – from lying Abraham to adulterous David to murderous St. Paul?)  For more insight on these things, see a great interview with the film’s director Tom Shadyac at http://www.hollywoodjesus.com/bruce_almighty.htm)

Exploring Myths and Transformation in Grief

There’s a hilarious episode of The Simpsons which shows a grieving Homer zipping through the so-called "five stages of grief" – in five seconds or less. When news of his impending death (the result of having ingested some toxic Blowfish) hits home, Homer is “comforted” with an introduction to the grief process, courtesy of the laconic family doctor, Dr. Hibbert. He tells Homer, “A little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.” To which Homer quickly replies: “No way! Because I'm not dying!” The four remaining “stages” (with “depression” being replaced by “fear”) unfold in similar fashion:

Dr. Hibbert: The second [stage] is anger.
Homer: Why you little...!
Dr. Hibbert: After that comes fear.
Homer: What's after fear? What's after fear?!
Dr. Hibbert: Bargaining.
Homer: Doc, you gotta get me out of this! I'll make it worth your while!
Dr. Hibbert: Finally, acceptance.
Homer: Well, we all gotta go sometime.
Dr. Hibbert: Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me!

We laugh, but while Elizabeth Kubler-Ross never intended for her classic “five stages of grief” to suggest a uniformly linear, progressive experience, unfortunately the language of “stages” has produced a widespread culture of assumption that this is the preferred way to “systematically” move the grieving person along toward healing. But as anyone who has suffered a significant loss will tell you, grief is rarely orderly or predictable. On the contrary, each person’s experience of grief is uniquely their own: everyone knows “his own pain,” as the ancient wisdom book Proverbs says.

Further, the historic, Christian Faith actually provides the possibility of a more hopeful, less messy experience of grief by providing a strong Redeemer and Comforter – a living Person who calls Himself “The Way, Truth, and Life” – and who enters our world to transform it, by “bearing our griefs and sorrows” (Isaiah 53). His wrestling with suffering, and the looming shadow of the cross is followed by a triumphal resurrection - the source of our hope.

All of this - and His promise to begin renewing all things right now (especially our hearts of stone), as well as a future new creation where death is finally and completely removed, changes everything. No longer do those who look to him need to sorrow “as those who have no hope” (I Thess. 4:13).

Rethinking the Stages
Consider how the classic first stage, “denial,” is transformed. As counselor David Powlison notes, Christ shatters our tendency to drift into denial of loss by actually transforming our dynamic internal trust - our heart’s tendency to put ultimate trust in a person or thing, which we will one day lose - by placing ultimate trust in a strong and loving God.

This re-directed worship (from self to God), as C.S. Lewis points out, also produces a beautiful result right now: it actually elevates our love for that person, as they are no longer placed in a position above God as a kind of “functional savior,” existing primarily to serve us and meet all our deepest needs (a position they were never intended to occupy in the first place). Instead, the person connected to our loss is seen in a whole new light - as a gift for us to love and serve and thank God for - for however long we are given, and also to grieve for the real person and precious gift they were when gone.

Similarly, the “anger stage” can also be transformed. The “shaking our fist at the heavens” response can give way to an honest questioning of God’s mysterious ways, and a deeper, cleaner, and more profound experience of the pain. (See the Psalms, which demonstrate an honest questioning of God within the context of His loving relationship with us and enduring promise to work out all things – even losses – for our good.) In addition, depression and bargaining also begin to be transformed, as our self-referential focus gives way to a focus on a God of grace and hope who promises to one day restore all our losses.

With this foundational re-connection to our Creator through Christ, consider how the following seven myths are exploded and given a whole new trajectory:

Myth #1: “If I talk about my loss, I’ll feel worse…”
You can’t heal unless you experience and work through your feelings of loss. When churches offer grief support groups for their members and the community, they encourage an authenticity and kinship in the mourning process that is unashamed to speak of brokenness. Hope in Christ actually fuels authenticity and the courage to share and help support others, even as we are being supported. We've been personally privileged to run a group we called Bayith Ebel (Hebrew for “House of Mourning” from Eccles. 7:2), and it was a rich experience of exploration, tears, and joy, as we learned to take seriously Jesus’ call to “weep with those who weep.”

Myth#2:
“If I’m sad and struggling with grief I must be a “loser-Christian.”
Shouldn’t Christians be “always rejoicing?” Counselor and author Paul Tripp says it well: “In times of grief Christians should be sadder than anyone else because we know something of how good life was meant to be, yet more hopeful than anyone because of what the cross and resurrection mean.”

Myth #3: “By staying busy or medicating myself I can eventually eliminate my grief…”
God has designed us to be responders (not stuffers) to joy and tragedy, love and loss. For this reason, grief doesn’t disappear, it simply goes underground temporarily and waits to be expressed. After all the attempts to escape feeling the pain (excessive busyness, taking mood-altering drugs, over-eating, or escapist behavior), you will start grieving where you left off. There are no short-cuts. Pain simply doesn’t get better by being ignored.

Myth#4: “In order to process my grief effectively I need to advance through the five stages of grief” (shock or denial; anger; depression; bargaining; acceptance).
As this article has already pointed out, the term “stages” is misleading. The Gospel (good news) of Christ’s forgiveness and formation of a new family in him leads to a better way of grieving with hope.

Myth #5: ”Tears are a sign of weakness. I must make sure I don’t grieve for too long. One year is surely enough?”
Tears actually have God’s approval – they release pain and signal a need to be comforted. “For the LORD has heard my weeping” (Ps. 6:8). Jesus wept deeply and openly over the brokenness he encountered, even though he was about to transform it forever.

Myth #6: “My goal should be to “get over” my grief.”
Hear the words of Gerald Sittser, who saw three generations of his family die at once in a tragic car crash – his mother, wife and daughter: “I did not “get over my loved ones;” rather, I absorbed the loss into my life until it became part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it…One learns the pain of others by suffering one’s own pain…by finding one’s own soul. However painful, sorrow is good for the soul…the soul is elastic, like a balloon. It can grow larger through suffering.”

Myth #7: “God’s forgiveness is not enough. If I feel bad long enough I will pay for what I have lost.”
Do we ever feel this? If so, we need to hear the word of assurance from Christ’s own mouth, as he hung on the cross – “it is finished!” This not only deals with all our guilt (if we were directly involved with the loss – ie,, abortion, gossip, etc.) – and is the only thing that really does - but also transforms our guilt feelings, which often mislead us to think that our goodness or worthiness could actually eliminate suffering. Yet suffering has a far deeper meaning and purpose for the believer in Jesus, just as it did for Christ himself.

In conclusion, we see that the better questions to ask ourselves, rather than “Am I progressing though the five stages of grief?” are the ones that lead us to a Person, Christ. “In the face of my loss, do I really believe he is good, has personally identified with my loss, and has loved me unbelievably well in the cross?” “Am I moving toward hope (in Him), or deeper despair?” “Am I in a community of hope where wrestling with God can take place, without judgment or condemnation (even as the Psalmist experienced)?” These are Scripture’s questions when it comes to grief, and they are questions couched in grace and meant to move you toward Love (a Person inhabiting real people) – no matter how long it takes.

He Got His Hands Dirty

My forehead feels warm. I haven’t slept well in days. Swine flu fever or not, something’s going on with me. So yesterday at my wife’s urging, I spent sixty bucks on tissues, masks, disinfectant wipes, and alcohol gel. Cleaned out the CVS. (You know, you just never can wash those hands enough.) And with all my compulsive scrubbing, pretty soon I’ll be back for some lotion to deal with the chapping.

But what about my heart? How do I sterilize it from the fear and anxiety which swirl around it every time I dare pick up the remote, or surf the web for the latest developments? Don’t get me wrong. Whether it’s swine flu or bird flu or some other viral nightmare, there are always reasons for healthy caution. Good hygiene is definitely a blessing, especially to all those around you. I’m not advocating a “stick your head in the sand” naiveté.

But do you know what the most frequent command from God to us in Scripture is? Maybe if you come from a fundamentalist background, you’ll be quick to guess it has something to do with abstaining from sex, or alcohol. (“Holiness by abstaining” is the motto in those camps.) But it’s neither. Nor is it “wash your hands before you eat,” which some religious folks actually tried to pin on Jesus (as if the maker of the universe couldn’t tell when his hands needed cleaning). No, actually the most frequent command from God to his overwhelmed, often-anxiety-filled people is “Fear not.”  

Oh really? Easier said than done! But then it’s usually followed by a very strong reason: “…for I am with you.” Hmmm.

Perhaps it’s because anxiety, worry, and fear gets to us all - a nice 100% infection rate. So what if we viewed these things as a real pandemic? I’m starting to think God does – which is why He wants us to know something about Himself that directly meets us at that fearful place. Something big, to give us hope. To soothe and calm our fears. To counsel us with words from a real Person that actually carry weight when he says “it’s going to be alright.”

You see, the God who sees all things, even your worried heart - actually names Himself “Immanuel,” God with us, for just such a reason. His idea is that if you see who he really is - the God who personally comes down and gets his hands dirty in order to love you - it will in fact make a huge difference at the deepest part of you, your essential core, which is your "heart."  

Used over 960 times in Scripture, "the heart"  (which in the ancient world meant the seat of your intellect, desires, and emotions) is described as the real focus of your out-of-control feelings, and which acts similar to a “spring” from a well, forcing your thoughts and beliefs and cravings up and out into specific behaviors. Biting your nails down to nothing, for example. Worrying about the future. Anxiously living for other’s approval, and fearing their rejection. In short, living as if the world is somehow in your control.

If this is true, then what your heart (and mine) needs most are solid reasons for hope – a vaccine that can actually kill the monster of fear (who lives in the closet of your heart) and who threatens to win the day. When we admit that the real problem is we’ve let the monster grow big, and his gaping mouth overwhelms us to the point that we give in to it, saying “you are in control…have your way and just swallow me up,” we need to stop and name the real problem. It’s time for our allegiances to change. And when we see that, we're invited to a better, more hopeful Master and Friend – One who rules wisely, and in love. One who comes to us personally even now, by His Spirit, as "the Comforter" and says, "don't be afraid. I'm here."  

Counseling the fears in our hearts means we name the pretenders. The real God is not the mutating viruses or mucous-spraying coughers who just can’t seem to cover their mouths. Not the CDC or WHO. Rather, it’s the One who rules over all, and so is able to tell us:

God is [your] refuge and strength – an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore [you] will not fear, though the earth gives way, and the mountains fall into the sea… (Psalm 46).

What If I really believed that this is true – that God is my only refuge - even when the mountains are falling? Isn't this the issue -what to do about my trust (faith) problem? Thankfully, the God who gives such a command to “fear not” isn’t into flimsy hopes or inadequate diagnosis, such as pinning the sole reason for your fears on your circumstances (earthquakes, tsunamis, or global pandemics) or your non-nurturing upbringing. Those things matter, certainly, but there is a more central focus, and it’s your heart’s functional trust.

The real remedy for my heart's fears consists in this: tell me again how BIG God is. Tell me again the story of how he walks into the middle of fearful situations, cataloged again and again in Scripture, to calm his loved one’s fears. Tell me again how He describes and shows Himself as Rescuer, Redeemer, Provider, and Friend of untrusting, self-reliant sinners. Tell me the message of GRACE, which he shows to the undeserving, who don’t take him at his word.  

"Faith comes by hearing the Word of Christ," (Rom. 10:17)... so give me a vision of how he got his hands dirty, and even nail-pierced for me, to win me a future. And let me see that believing these things really does produce a community of lovers who aren’t paralyzed by fear, but come out of themselves to love.

Now, when God walks into the room as your loving Father, this is what he wants to know – “What are you really afraid of?” As he asks, you will either shrink in horror at your infected heart, and run away to hide in order to fix it yourself (as Adam & Eve in the garden, and all of us still tend to do), or throw yourself at his feet and weep. And if you do the latter, he’ll lift your trembling chin with his gentle hand, look you in the eyes, and say,”fear not, for I am with you.”