More from Generation to Generation

In my last post, I ended by starting to share some quotes (albeit out context) from Edwin Friedman's Generation to Generation. I"ve actually been using that book as I work on my second of two sermons for this Sunday, this one being for our new service The Sanctuary. We're doing a summer series where we look at a different secular song each time, and this week the song is "Mean" by Taylor Swift. I'm using Romans 12:19-21 as the scripture.

19  Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God;  for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."  20  No, "if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads."  21  Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

It seemed appropriate, then, to approach this through the lens of systems theory, and how we should be conducting ourselves when others are being dysfunctional. Or, better put, we find ourselves in a dysfunctional, unhealthy system.

So, here are some more quotes from Generation to Generation:

• In fact, much of what we label stress is the response of the organism rather than the impact of the environment. (63)
• Effective healing occurs when the counselor is less anxious to relieve the symptom and instead uses it as a pathway into the emotional system. (71)
• The capacity of congregational members to view us objectively is directly related to the degree of differentiation they were able to achieve from their real parents. (149)
• The notion that people might not be able to "take" the truth probably has more to do with the anxiety of the individuals who are thinking that way. (172)
• A wedding is like an iceburg: only one-eighth of the moving mass will be visible, but the process and decision usually have the impetus of generations of build-up. (179)
• Individuals who are satisfied in their own marriage rarely react intensely to another's. (180)
• On the topic of triangulation and burnout, "Resting and refreshment do not change triangles." (216)
• Three problems with consensus: (227)
• The family led by consensus will tend to be less imaginative.
• Leaderless groups are more easily panicked and the anxiety tends of cascade.
• Emphasis on consensus gives strength to the extremists.

Well, that ends things I'd underlined, and certainly isn't the best summary of the book (in the course of flipping through I got drawn in, and am only sad I can't paste in whole pages...well, really then entire book). Good stuff.

On Feedback Loops

As I was driving in this morning, I started thinking about feedback loops. There, sitting in her carseat in the row behind me, was my daughter Anna. At eight and a half months, Anna is, by most accounts, a remarkably good baby. She travels well (once we figured out she doesn't like feeling alone in the back seat on long car rides), has been great as we've hauled her along to numerous conferences and meetings, and just generally has a great disposition. Which is what has perhaps made this week so rough. She's just been, well, a bit fussier than normal. Not ridiculous. I suspect she's probably still been better (thank God) than many of her peers :-)

Last night, in keeping with her mood this week, was just kind of ridiculous. She's been stirring more at night, but then, we've only recently finally ditched the swaddle, and have been trying to ditch the sleep sac too and just adjust her pajamas and the thermostat accordingly (gives her a bit more ability to move around when she's awake--which is probably a mixed blessing). She's (hopefully) finally getting over a cough that's dragged on a bit, and who knows what else is going on in her body and life right now--she's hitting all sorts of milestones lately, and seems to be able to do something new each day! All of this is fertile soil for sleep disturbances, for sure. Not to mention the general stress level in our house that usually accompanies (or has built towards) the end of summer camp--and things ramping up for me at church.

Thinking back on last night, though, I must admit I thought I was quite beyond the early days with her of getting mad AT her. I mean, I've been frustrated with being woken up, for sure. But last night, as it began to occur to me that I (and Chris) had perhaps been awake with her more than I'd been asleep, it was impossible for me to not feel upset. At her. Which is silly. Chris and I learned in her early weeks that when that feeling crept up on one of us, it was a good time to switch off. Much better to tag team than to stay together with her and both get equally stressed at the same time. Some nights, though, when there is such a gap between expectations and reality (that's how I always understand when I'm most upset--last night there was the expectation of perhaps one wake up, not a whole series of them) it's hard not to be drawn into a feedback loop.

Feedback loops can be great when the feedback is positive. God bless positive feedback loops--when joy and happiness and even success just feed more of each.

But then there are the not so great feedback loops. Like tired parents on just such a night. Or family members in the midst of crisis. Or coworkers caught in negative attitudes about others or their work.

Several years ago, when I was doing my second field education placement while at Duke (think ministry internship) during the summer before my third and last year there, I worked with Scott, a pastor who was a wonderful mentor for me. And also very similar to me. My first mentor the summer before, Lewis, had also been great, but had perhaps one of the personalities most different from mine possible--he was so laid back, and calm. Not lazy at all, but serene, I would say. I was so blessed to work with each man, more than I could ever say, but I learned different lessons from each.

Scott and I were both pretty Type-A, and workaholics. The problem was I am a morning person and he was much more of a night person. So that summer, it all started innocently enough--I'd get an early start to the day, he'd get working later in the morning, and when he'd keep going on work into the evening, I'd head home. But then we started feeding off each other's schedules--he started getting at things earlier and I would keep at work later. It wasn't long before, between sermon prep, meetings, visits, and all our other duties, we were both worn out. It was Scott who recognized what was happening--that we'd created a feedback loop where though neither was putting any expectations on the other beyond what each would normally do, we'd both taken on the other's schedule without adjusting our own.

Once Scott identified that, we got better. When one of us chose to work early or later, we'd make sure to work on tasks the other wasn't needed for --and we'd be sure they knew that. I learned from Scott, from his sharing his own experiences, of the dangers of burnout--and I learned from him ways to attend to myself before it reached that.

I suspect we all face a whole slew of feedback loops in our lives and relationships. It's pretty similar, I think, to what Friedman (and others) describes within family systems theory in Generation to Generation. It so easy to get so caught up in feedback loops, in systems, that we don't even realize it--or the power they exert over us.

But perhaps Friedman's advice is good in any of these situations--that the only way we can change them is to be a non-anxious presence:

What Bowen has hypothesized is a scale of differentiation. Differentiation means the capacity of a family member to define his or her own life's goals and values apart from surrounding togetherness pressures, to say "I" when others are demanding "you" and "we." It includes the capacity to maintain a (relatively) non-anxious presence in the midst of anxious systems, to take maximum responsibility for one's own desitny and emotional being. It can be measured somewhat by the breadth of one's repertoire of responses when confronted with crisis. The concept should not be confused with autonomy or narcissism, however. Differentiation means the capacity to be an "I" while remaining connected. (Generation to Generation, p. 27)

It is this ability to be a non-anxious presence which, Freidman goes on to explain, is one's only real hope of changing a system (as opposed to trying to change someone IN the system).

So that's what was on my mind this morning. But while I've got my copy of Generation to Generation out, let me throw out some other great lines (though perhaps this only makes sense to those who've read the whole book or other family systems stuff, we'll see...)

• "It is not possible to eliminate any chronic condition without going through a phase that is acute" (p. 47)
• "One of the most astounding facts about organized religious life in America is the extent to which professional clergy organizations and heirarchies permit religious institutions to get away with blmaing all crashes on 'pilot error.'" (p. 218)
• "The possibilities of change are maximized rather when we concentrate on modifying our own way of functioning, our own input, into the family 'black box'." (p. 18)
• "If one is the third party in an emotional triangle, it is generally not possible to bring change (for more than a week) to the relationship of the other two parts by trying to change their relationship directly." (p. 37)
• "Chronic symptoms rarely go below or above certain thresholds and they tend to reappear with a certain rhythm. (Anyone who doubts this should try to make a problem worse and keep it at that level.)" (p. 46)
• "In fact, a good rule of thumb is that if you catch yourself disagnozing someone else [in a system you're part of], there is probably something in you that you are trying to hide." (p. 57)

SO there's a lot of good stuff in there...I'll have to stop there for now. Perhaps I'll come back to it later, though.

As the Game Clock Ticks...

Today I am working on Sunday's sermon--the first in our August sermon series. Should be lots of fun. I remembered this morning a sermon I wrote for a preaching class in seminary at Duke where I used Cameron Crazies (what Duke fans are called at home games) as an illustration. Even at Duke, I remembered I was criticized for taking the example/metaphor too far. Whatever. I remember having been quite pleased with myself. So, for your perusal, in case you're bored today, here it is. Just keep in mind it was early in my preaching career, and I was perhaps a bit drunk on Duke basketball fevor...:-) Oh, and I think Duke won that game, if my memory serves me. :-)

•SERMON TITLE: As the Game Clock Ticks...
Mark 4:26-29 (Classroom preaching, “Proclaiming the Parables”)
February 9, 2005
The Parable of Steady and Assured Coming of the Day of Harvest
Sarah Marie Andrews

26 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

I am mindful, as I stand before you this afternoon, that a momentous event has our minds preoccupied.  This event has made some of our number absent in body, and others of us are battling not to be absent in mind and soul.  The forces of darkness will descend upon our peaceful campus this evening.  Yes, tonight, even tonight, shall be the visitation of the Tar Heels.

In the face of this dreaded invasion, I am reminded of a story told at my alma mater, Gettysburg College.  On July 1, 1863, Confederate troops fell upon union cavalry troops positioned on the northern end of the town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  A three day battle would ensue.  But on that opening day, while the first shots of the Battle of Gettysburg were being fired, classes continued to be held in what was then known as Pennsylvania College.  Classes had begun as usual at 8 a.m. on that summer day, but soon it was evident that the day would be unlike any other.  One of the college’s professors stopped his lecture, finally telling his students, “We will close now and see what is going on, for you know nothing about the lesson anyhow.”

Today, like that summer day almost one hundred and fifty years ago, we are anxious.  We hear the sounds of something.  Something coming.  Something significant.  Something worth waiting for.  We have filled the seconds, minutes and hours today in expectation of plays, cheers and victories.  Today, more than any other day, our discussions have centered around how well JJ has been shooting from outside the arc, and how well Sheldon has been rebounding recently.  Tip-off is coming.  But life goes on as usual in many ways.  In the past days, students have gone to class, eaten at the Great Hall, and slept—despite the anticipation.  Life has gone on.  But today, today the time has come.  The students in K-ville have stepped out of their tents, and other students have joined them in line.  The news crews have set up their satellite trucks and expectant reporters stand poised to interview cheering or sobbing fans.  The cars will start filling the parking lots before this class has ended.  And so in the fullness of time we can almost feel the bleachers at Cameron heaving from the frenzied jumping up and down of the Cameron Crazies.

We meet Jesus this afternoon in our state of impatient, restless anticipation.  Jesus’ followers were impatient.  They wanted to know when the new kingdom, the Kingdom of God would come.  Today, Lord, today!  What can we do to make bonfire come sooner?!  How can we get the game over with quickly—and still win?
Jesus is not the guy to invite to your game-viewing party.  He does not share your restlessness.  No.  Just now, the ball has been tipped into the hands of J.J. Reddick.  But Jesus is not watching on the edge of his seat like everyone else.  Jesus takes breath.  Pauses a bit.  And while the clock ticks away and the announcers banter on, Jesus starts to tell a story.

“Imagine someone scattering seed on the ground.  Then he sleeps and rises night and day.  Meanwhile, the seed sprouts and grows.  Now this man, he does not know how it grows.  The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.  But when the grain is ripe, at once the man goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

What is he talking about?  The game is on!  Seeds?  What?  When was the last time most people here planted a seed...let alone a field of grain?  Yeah, yeah, stuff grows.  And somehow it gets from the field to the sub roll that I’m eating right now.  Great.  Now stop blocking the television!

We are told constantly that people in the United States these days have a short attention span.  They say we are not used to waiting and we don’t do it well.  But I think that’s not the whole story.  Because we do wait...sometimes.  If something is important enough, even in this 30-second commercial, video game, MTV society...if something is important enough, we will wait.  And we can even learn to appreciate the waiting.  Here at Duke, waiting has become a sport all to itself—what is K-ville if not a monument to the ability even of undergraduate to wait?  Wait until the time is right.  The day has come.  The anticipated tip-off happens, the game is played, and we taste victory.  You haven’t seen waiting until you’ve witnessed twelve undergraduates huddled in an ice-covered tent, eating cold pizza and doing their homework on laptop computers.

In the gospel of Mark, the very first recorded words of Jesus are these: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” (Mk 1:15) But even in the days, months and years which succeeded, Jesus’ followers grew anxious.  Jesus had proclaimed the coming of the kingdom, yet the social and political climate of their lives seemed unchanged.  The earliest Christians were challenged to mold their anxious, expectant faith into a no-less-expectant but still patient faith.  How do we remain faithful, confident in the coming kingdom, while the clock is still ticking, and the seeds of the kingdom haven’t all even broke through the topsoil?  Throughout the New Testament, including Revelation, we hear of the followers of Jesus who are praised for their patient endurance.  In James, we are commanded, “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.  You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.” (Jas. 5:7-8) So too does our parable this afternoon challenge us to have the expectant patience of a crowd at Cameron as the game clock ticks away.  There is a patience, a willingness to let the game play out, that is evident even when the Crazies shake the stadium.  Their willingness to watch, to stay standing, to not wander back to their rooms and catch the highlights on Sports Center later, all evidence a patient endurance despite their apparent frenzy.

I have been in Cameron on nights when the game goes long.  Almost without fail, the crowd starts chanting, “It’s a school night.”  They are ready for the game to be over.  But there are two halves.  Twenty minutes each.  And the game isn’t over until the whole of those forty minutes have passed.  The game itself can take forty minutes or three hours.  There can be fouls that stop the game after each play, or the players can keep a fast pace and have the final buzzer sound before anyone expected.

So when we hear in Jesus’ words this morning about the farmer who went about life as usual until the time for harvest had arrived, we may not understand what overseeing a field of crops would be like.  But we do understand what it is to wait.  To wait until the appointed time has arrived.  Till the completion of the task.  The Bible talks about the fullness of time. (Eph. 1:10; Gal. 4:4) It is the time when the waiting is over.  The anticipated moment has arrived.  The buzzer sounds.

Now, unlike tonight’s game, there is no need to speculate about the outcome of God’s kingdom.  Here we are, mere hours from the game, and none of us know what the outcome will be.  We can guess.  And hope.  And some, I am sure, have prayed.  But we don’t know.  We do know, however, that God’s kingdom will come.  Paul writes in Philippians 1:6, “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.”  God’s kingdom will be completed in your heart and in this world.  God’s kingdom will become complete in the fullness of time.  A seed is planted and the farmer goes about his daily routine with little concern about why the seed grows.  But he knows it will grow.  And when the time for harvest arrives, he is ready, and goes into the field to harvest the grain.  This parable isn’t flashy.  It doesn’t have a hundred different elements to explore.  It’s much shorter than many other of Jesus’ parables.  But I think that simplicity and directness is part of the message Jesus wanted to pass on.

God’s kingdom will come.  It’s not complicated.  It will come.  In fullness.  When the time is right.  Don’t bother about spending each waking moment with the Farmer’s Almanac trying to figure out which day will mark the harvest.  Jesus said, “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” (Matt. 24:42) This is not a challenge.  Jesus is not daring us to figure it out.  We don’t know.  We won’t know.  How many people, how many groups, have proclaimed that they have discovered the exact moment when this fullness of time would arrive!  How many have become obsessed with understanding how the kingdom is coming, and what the “signs of the times” are!  And they have never yet been right.

But our parable this morning, this short, simple story about the most basic patterns of life for agricultural peoples, challenges our self-confident efforts to be precise.  To have all the answers.  To know who, what, when, where and why.  In the face of our impatience and anxiousness, Jesus tells us it will come.  The kingdom is coming, and one day will be completed.  We do not say, in the Lord’s Prayer, “We hope your kingdom comes.”  No, we make a statement, “Thy kingdom come.”      In our impatience we wonder.  We get caught up in the cheering, the shouts, the music, the dancing, the insults.  All of it.  We may wonder if it will ever end.  And we may even doubt God’s victory.  At times we seem to be far behind.  The forces of this world are hitting every shot, and we can’t seem to rebound.  But this isn’t just any game we are caught up in.  Unlike tonight’s game in Cameron, God’s final victory is assured.  God’s people—God’s purposes—may appear to be utterly defeated; and yet our hope, our faith, our conviction is that these defeated, conquered people will be revealed, in the end—in the fullness of time—at the final buzzer—to have won.  Not by our own strength.  No, we could never grow to full stature on our own.  But by the grace of the creator, through the blood of his son—the Lamb standing as slain—and in the guidance of the Holy Spirit, at the final buzzer, the crowds will cheer unceasingly.  Like a seed growing steadily, with patient endurance, God’s kingdom is now growing towards its final completion.  The hour of harvest grows closer each moment. 

The kingdom of God is coming.  Without our efforts.  Without our understanding.  Without our self-assured contributions.  The grace of the kingdom’s coming, however, is that we are invited to become the sixth man.  To stand in exuberant expectation.  To chip in our best cheers.  To offer up our prayers, our presence, our gifts and our service.  Get your face painted.  Toss on your team t-shirt.  Warm up your vocal chords.  The game is underway.  The clock is ticking.  The victor is assured.

Now, “the one who testifies to these things [our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ] says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’  Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus!  The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints.” (Rev. 22:20-21)