June 16, 2019
Romans 5:1-5
The summer of 1990 started out perfectly for me. For one thing, I had my drivers license and was fortunate enough to have my own car. Maybe some of you remember what it felt like to have your driver’s license and be able to drive when you wanted. For me, the freedom I felt with having my driver’s license and my own car was unlike any freedom I had experienced previously. Then, a few months before the summer began, I found out I had been selected as a counselor at a summer camp, similar to the Passport Camp our youth go to today. The schedule for this camp meant that my summer would be broken up into two segments with a two day break in-between.
I can’t begin to tell you what activities we did at this camp, or what exactly I was in charge of, but I can tell you I had a great time. I do recall becoming particularly close to one youth group from Charlotte, North Carolina. I can remember us singing and dancing together as we quickly moved from strangers to good friends. Suffice it to say I was having a blast.
When my two-day break was fast approaching, I was excited to return home. My sister had just finished her first year of college at Lenoir Rhyne University in Hickory, North Carolina and unlike every other summer during her college years, she had returned home. I was also excited to tell my parents about all of the fun I was having as a camp counselor. You see, until that two-day break, I had not seen, my dad or my sister all summer, and I was excited to spend a little time with them.
When I arrived home all three of them were genuinely excited to see me. And I them. I remember picking up a stack of mail and going into our den (or family room as some call it). For some reason I sat down in my Dad’s recliner and began opening my mail. My mom sat in the chair beside me and my sister sat across the room on our couch. Initially, my Dad wasn’t in the room with us, but then my Dad came into our den and I noticed he was crying, which was something I can’t recall ever seeing before. Obviously startled, I looked up and realized my mom and Kim, my sister, were crying too. I immediately wanted to know who died, but as my mom leaned over and touched my knee she informed me that it wasn’t a person who died… it was my parents’ marriage.
I immediately forgot about my mail and ran out of the den and sprinted up the stairs to my room, immediately locking the door behind me. All three of them followed, and mom and Kim kept pleading for me to come out, but I refused. Since cell phones didn’t exist at the time, I must’ve had a telephone in my bedroom because I remember calling my best friend, Sean Welsch’s house and his mom answered. It was clear that I was crying and when Mrs. Welsch asked me if I was ok, I told her what just happened, and she replied how sorry she was. She then said if my parents were ok with me leaving the house, I could come over to their house. I’ll never forget that phone call and how much it meant to me to be invited over in that moment. I didn’t know beforehand, but Mrs. Welsch had been through the very same thing when she was young and even though she didn’t have magic words that would fix it all, when she told me that everything would be ok I believed her.
That next day I went back to my summer camp where I stayed until the end of summer. I returned a much different person than the one who left only two days before. Once summer camp was over, I returned to Greensboro, the only place I called home, but it no longer felt like home. As that next school year began my mom noticed how different I was and because she loves me so much, she made an appointment for me to visit with a therapist. I don’t remember resisting therapy in anyway, but I do remember not wanting anyone to know I was “in therapy”. Over the course of the next eighteen years, Peter Wohlwend and I saw each other quite regularly. Today I believe my mom didn’t want me to suffer alone and in so many ways I am lucky that she showed me how to experience pain and suffering in community.
My Mom has always been one to process her feelings in community. More than that, though, she wanted those she loved to do the same. Maybe it’s because she has a master’s degree in Family and Marriage Counseling, or maybe it’s just who she is, but suffering alone, is not something she wants or encourages. Not for herself. Not for her kids.
Father Richard Rohr says, “If we don’t transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” I think it safe to say that both my mom and I agree with Rohr’s statement and in order for that transformation to occur, we must share our pain in community. This is one reason why society’s quest to become more individualized has been so problematic. Yes, we are individuals, but we are individuals created to live and thrive in community with others. Living in isolation was never what God intended, yet far too often when we are suffering, we isolate. Far too often, when we are in the midst of pain, we retreat from others. The thing is, both our joys and our sufferings are meant to be shared and experienced inside of community. Anything less only serves to deprive us of that possible transformation.
***************************
This idea of sharing our pain and suffering inside a community really struck a nerve with me this past week. I can think of many examples, both in my own life and in others, where sharing our pain and suffering with other people is more than we can bare. So, we isolate, and more times than not when we isolate, we become angry or bitter. And try as we may to hide it, when we become angry or bitter, the people we interact with most know it.
When I first read our scripture for today, I did so with an individual’s mindset. I read it as though Paul was speaking only to me, instructing only me to share my sufferings. But as the week progressed and his words kept working on me, I realized my individual mindset was causing me to miss an important part of his instruction – that part where his instructions are actually being given to a collective “we” or “us” and not an individual “I” or “you”. Just listen again,
“WE have been justified… WE have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom WE have obtained access to this grace in which WE stand; and WE boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that but WE boast in our sufferings... And hope does not disappoint US, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to US.”
While it is most certainly true that a lot of suffering is experienced individually, Paul’s promise “is grounded in God’s people all being in this together.”[1] His promise is grounded in God’s people being in the suffering together.
Not isolated.
Not alone.
Together.
Maybe that explains why Paul promises that suffering leads to perseverance and perseverance to character and character to hope. If left to my own devices I can’t begin to understand this promise. If left to figure it all out for myself, I can’t begin to even catch a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. Hope? How can I believe in the promise of hope when I continue to live in the suffering? These are the questions you start asking when you live a life that excludes others. And the short answer is you can’t. You can’t get to hope if you’re not willing to let others in. We are created to live in community with others and if you choose a life of isolation instead of community then Paul’s promises will most assuredly ring hollow. But if you summon the courage to share your pain and suffering with a community that you know loves you… A community that also has the courage to go with you in your suffering, then Paul’s promises will ring true.
**********************
I thank God for Peter Wohlwend. We met during a time when I could have easily isolated from others. We met during a time of great suffering for me, and he was kind enough and gentle enough to go into that place of suffering with me. For sure it was me experiencing the suffering, but Peter helped me to see that by sharing it with others, I was not alone. And when you finally reach the point of knowing that you are not alone, you experience hope.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] http://words.dancingwiththeword.com/2016/05/suffering-together.html
Romans 5:1-5
The summer of 1990 started out perfectly for me. For one thing, I had my drivers license and was fortunate enough to have my own car. Maybe some of you remember what it felt like to have your driver’s license and be able to drive when you wanted. For me, the freedom I felt with having my driver’s license and my own car was unlike any freedom I had experienced previously. Then, a few months before the summer began, I found out I had been selected as a counselor at a summer camp, similar to the Passport Camp our youth go to today. The schedule for this camp meant that my summer would be broken up into two segments with a two day break in-between.
I can’t begin to tell you what activities we did at this camp, or what exactly I was in charge of, but I can tell you I had a great time. I do recall becoming particularly close to one youth group from Charlotte, North Carolina. I can remember us singing and dancing together as we quickly moved from strangers to good friends. Suffice it to say I was having a blast.
When my two-day break was fast approaching, I was excited to return home. My sister had just finished her first year of college at Lenoir Rhyne University in Hickory, North Carolina and unlike every other summer during her college years, she had returned home. I was also excited to tell my parents about all of the fun I was having as a camp counselor. You see, until that two-day break, I had not seen, my dad or my sister all summer, and I was excited to spend a little time with them.
When I arrived home all three of them were genuinely excited to see me. And I them. I remember picking up a stack of mail and going into our den (or family room as some call it). For some reason I sat down in my Dad’s recliner and began opening my mail. My mom sat in the chair beside me and my sister sat across the room on our couch. Initially, my Dad wasn’t in the room with us, but then my Dad came into our den and I noticed he was crying, which was something I can’t recall ever seeing before. Obviously startled, I looked up and realized my mom and Kim, my sister, were crying too. I immediately wanted to know who died, but as my mom leaned over and touched my knee she informed me that it wasn’t a person who died… it was my parents’ marriage.
I immediately forgot about my mail and ran out of the den and sprinted up the stairs to my room, immediately locking the door behind me. All three of them followed, and mom and Kim kept pleading for me to come out, but I refused. Since cell phones didn’t exist at the time, I must’ve had a telephone in my bedroom because I remember calling my best friend, Sean Welsch’s house and his mom answered. It was clear that I was crying and when Mrs. Welsch asked me if I was ok, I told her what just happened, and she replied how sorry she was. She then said if my parents were ok with me leaving the house, I could come over to their house. I’ll never forget that phone call and how much it meant to me to be invited over in that moment. I didn’t know beforehand, but Mrs. Welsch had been through the very same thing when she was young and even though she didn’t have magic words that would fix it all, when she told me that everything would be ok I believed her.
That next day I went back to my summer camp where I stayed until the end of summer. I returned a much different person than the one who left only two days before. Once summer camp was over, I returned to Greensboro, the only place I called home, but it no longer felt like home. As that next school year began my mom noticed how different I was and because she loves me so much, she made an appointment for me to visit with a therapist. I don’t remember resisting therapy in anyway, but I do remember not wanting anyone to know I was “in therapy”. Over the course of the next eighteen years, Peter Wohlwend and I saw each other quite regularly. Today I believe my mom didn’t want me to suffer alone and in so many ways I am lucky that she showed me how to experience pain and suffering in community.
My Mom has always been one to process her feelings in community. More than that, though, she wanted those she loved to do the same. Maybe it’s because she has a master’s degree in Family and Marriage Counseling, or maybe it’s just who she is, but suffering alone, is not something she wants or encourages. Not for herself. Not for her kids.
Father Richard Rohr says, “If we don’t transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” I think it safe to say that both my mom and I agree with Rohr’s statement and in order for that transformation to occur, we must share our pain in community. This is one reason why society’s quest to become more individualized has been so problematic. Yes, we are individuals, but we are individuals created to live and thrive in community with others. Living in isolation was never what God intended, yet far too often when we are suffering, we isolate. Far too often, when we are in the midst of pain, we retreat from others. The thing is, both our joys and our sufferings are meant to be shared and experienced inside of community. Anything less only serves to deprive us of that possible transformation.
***************************
This idea of sharing our pain and suffering inside a community really struck a nerve with me this past week. I can think of many examples, both in my own life and in others, where sharing our pain and suffering with other people is more than we can bare. So, we isolate, and more times than not when we isolate, we become angry or bitter. And try as we may to hide it, when we become angry or bitter, the people we interact with most know it.
When I first read our scripture for today, I did so with an individual’s mindset. I read it as though Paul was speaking only to me, instructing only me to share my sufferings. But as the week progressed and his words kept working on me, I realized my individual mindset was causing me to miss an important part of his instruction – that part where his instructions are actually being given to a collective “we” or “us” and not an individual “I” or “you”. Just listen again,
“WE have been justified… WE have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom WE have obtained access to this grace in which WE stand; and WE boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that but WE boast in our sufferings... And hope does not disappoint US, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to US.”
While it is most certainly true that a lot of suffering is experienced individually, Paul’s promise “is grounded in God’s people all being in this together.”[1] His promise is grounded in God’s people being in the suffering together.
Not isolated.
Not alone.
Together.
Maybe that explains why Paul promises that suffering leads to perseverance and perseverance to character and character to hope. If left to my own devices I can’t begin to understand this promise. If left to figure it all out for myself, I can’t begin to even catch a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. Hope? How can I believe in the promise of hope when I continue to live in the suffering? These are the questions you start asking when you live a life that excludes others. And the short answer is you can’t. You can’t get to hope if you’re not willing to let others in. We are created to live in community with others and if you choose a life of isolation instead of community then Paul’s promises will most assuredly ring hollow. But if you summon the courage to share your pain and suffering with a community that you know loves you… A community that also has the courage to go with you in your suffering, then Paul’s promises will ring true.
**********************
I thank God for Peter Wohlwend. We met during a time when I could have easily isolated from others. We met during a time of great suffering for me, and he was kind enough and gentle enough to go into that place of suffering with me. For sure it was me experiencing the suffering, but Peter helped me to see that by sharing it with others, I was not alone. And when you finally reach the point of knowing that you are not alone, you experience hope.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] http://words.dancingwiththeword.com/2016/05/suffering-together.html
