An amazing little passage from Frank Lake’s book on pastoral care. This could be filed away under “what not to do” in moments of great suffering. Lake discusses the human need to have negative feelings, that therealities of rage, anxiety, loneliness or grief should not be kept hidden or suppressed. In the realm of church groups, though, or really any other kind of group, Lake notes that these negative feelings are often seen as problematic and unattractive, even unacceptable. They are often, in these circles, evidence of a lack of faith, a lack of self-esteem, a lack of personal grit. When we are this person, the suffering one in need of a listening ear, we are aware that this is a risk, putting ourselves out there like this. Lake, like Brené Brown, argues that it is a huge act of bravery to be vulnerable about these unseemly emotions.
Sometimes, though, the pain is too great and we just have to share. And instead of finding friends who have faced the same demons, we find strangers who seem not to know what we’re talking about. There are awkward silences, darting glances, pained faces, a quick change of the subject. Someone in the group gets the group “back on track,” and our negative feelings–the thing that derailed the conversation–are cast aside as if they were never spoken to begin with. Here’s Lake:
The effect of this put-down on the anxious sharer is devastating. They feel the group life they have come to depend on and their acceptance in it are tottering on the brink of disintegration. They have shared the worst that they fear to be true of themselves and the group quite plainly did not want to know.
Next week there is a crisis: do I go again or do I stay away? If I do go, who is it that goes? The chastened/corrected John or Mary, resolved never again to risk being disgraced, resolved to act the cheerful charismatic cover-up to the evident satisfaction of all? But that is not the essence of renewal but of the old religion. However skillfully last week’s well-shamed sharer contrives…there will be anger hidden.
Isn’t this, after all, the defining character trait of “religion,” why it so often carries connotations of phoniness, grandiosity, and abstraction? And isn’t this what Jesus came to save us from, from our contrived sense of personal wellbeing? Throughout the gospels, Jesus seems to ask the question of the wounded ones he encounters (and, by extension, of us): where is the real you, not the corrected you? Where is the wound? Everything that is hidden will be brought to light, and released, made new.
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7 responses to “The Real (Suppressed) You”
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As a generalization, this is a bit ridiculous and depends upon pathos begging. Yes, sharing can be helpful, but it’s not because it unleashes some inner, repressed, “real”, you. In fact, from my experiences, over indulgence in sharing only further ingrains the feelings and can be the first steps of a kind of subjective foundationalism, where you become a wound and reconstruct your identity, in innocuous and subtle ways, from that new ground. I think one thing that’s universally true for the “depressed”/melancholic is that when a bout of it sets in, there is a kind of twisted feeling of liberation because now you see things for what they “really” are (e.g. your life is meaningless, no one loves you, your work is headed towards an abyss, etc etc). But this rush is no sure ground for the really real.
Rather, Luther’s theology contrasts with this, in that we are first and foremost constituted in the address. It is not because I speak from primeval feelings of my true self, but I speak because I am first spoken to. I think our own sense of our own wounds and hurts is many times overblown, assuming we know ourselves, or, in a dialogical context, we can self-discover when room is made for our voice.
While Lake’s advice might be useful in a preliminary or very particular sort of way (for the newcomer to a group), it can’t be generalized or else it risks an ideology of ‘homo vulnus’, which can very well make the sick sicker.
my 2 cents,
cal
Hey Cal,
Thanks for your point, which is totally valid. Sharing will not save, and sharing can easily be fuel for the fire of self-loathing, self-recrimination, self-indulgence.
My sense is not that “sharing” in and of itself can heal all. My sense, instead, is that humans are inveterately defensive against and scared of what lies below the surface. When we find a community that posits “getting real” and yet seems to shirk away from what seems most real to us, we bury it, or we leave.
Really interesting. robert capon said something like “don’t confess to someone unless they’re willing to die for you,” because the real you, the stuff you don’t say in polite company, is too hard for most people to handle…except for Jesus, who did die for us
oh, wow. this is so specific to my experience a few years ago. i got brave/honest enough to share a vulnerable issue about what was going on in my life (that was the specific question the small group was asking all members) and another member literally cut me off mid-sentence to share *his* issue which was something super surfacey like ‘my car broke down’. i really can’t remember because i was holding back tears. thankfully my dear friend sitting right next to me sort of whispered a follow up and we talked more about my issue later in the day. my solution was to not go back, by the way. i couldn’t handle being around people who seemed afraid of negative emotions or lament. it’s really hard to tell sometimes who the safe people will be, though.
Maybe the common ground is that most of us have witnessed in both secular and religious realms, a status quo that is driven toward and rewards the appearance of “having it all together” and shames, often indirectly, gaping vulnerabilities. It’s not about those vulnerabilities becoming your whole identity, but if we truly want to encourage communities where people can heal, it has to be Ok to not be Ok.
Excellent Laura, thank you.
Our Sunday School class recently went through the Psalms together and were very aware of Davids bare bone honesty. The question came up as to why we hide our struggles and fears. One young woman shared how they struggled out on the mission field and shared it with and older believer. She was instantly criticized for her lack of faith…she said “I learned then,you don’t share struggles”.
I recently went through breast cancer….the whole nine yards, chemo, radiation, and surgery. I am 60 years old and fear of being seen as weak is no longer part of my walk with Christ or my brothers and sisters in Christ. People, believers, need to know it’s ok to ask another believer to help bear a burden…and yes, we all have them! I now stay clear of those pillars of strength.
When Jesus prayed “if possible pass this cup from me” He showed me how to enter His presence, fear and all.
Positive thinking is everywhere in our culture.
This is great; “Isn’t this, after all, the defining character trait of “religion,” why it so often carries connotations of phoniness, grandiosity, and abstraction? And isn’t this what Jesus came to save us from, from our contrived sense of personal wellbeing? Throughout the gospels, Jesus seems to ask the question of the wounded ones he encounters (and, by extension, of us): where is the real you, not the corrected you? Where is the wound? Everything that is hidden will be brought to light, and released, made new.”