The ministry of intercessory worry

Mr Neff and I used to say that our mothers practiced the ministry of intercessory worry. Nowadays that's called Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD!), and one of our descendants thinks she has it. She believes it was not handed down through the paternal line.

So I went to a web page at Helpguide.org, "How to Stop Worrying: Self-Help Strategies for Anxiety Relief," and read the six self-help tips, and then I clicked through to "Emotional Intelligence" and read about four core abilities and five key skills and three steps to stress busting, and then I decided to go to the library and check out The Feeling Good Handbook, which my descendant said was quite helpful.

But first I looked it up on amazon and discovered how to take the self-diagnosis quiz without actually buying the book. Hint: click "search inside this book," type in "Burns anxiety inventory," and click on the link for page 33. According to the inventory, I am mildly anxious. Given the questions, I believe that may indicate that I have a pulse.

Anyway, I headed off to the library, and by the time I got there, I could no longer remember the name of the book I had come to check out (did I mention that one of my worries is that some day I will develop Alzheimer's disease?). So I went to the new books display instead, and there I found Patricia Pearson's funny, wise, and informative little memoir, A Brief History of Anxiety: Yours and Mine. I was hooked when I read the last sentence of the author bio on the back jacket flap: "She lives in Toronto with her husband, her two children, and her dread."

The New York Times ran a good review and Salon.com ran an even better one, and rather than reviewing the book here I'll just refer you to those and let you know that I'm returning it in just a few minutes, so you can check it out if you hurry. And then I'll quote a paragraph from page 81 that I liked very much. It helps explain why "a person is four times more likely to suffer from generalized anxiety disorder in the United States than in Mexico."

"In Mexico," Margaret muses, "it is said that people work in order to have holidays." By this, she means that they do not work for material gain or for personal status, so much as for the freedom to be with their families and friends. Imagine that, I think to myself, having just read an article in the Toronto Globe and Mail warning that "Family life interference at work can lead to a stalled career." In Toronto it is best not to have families. In Mexico it is best not to have careers."

The Story of Stuff: a study guide

A year and a half ago, Annie Leonard released The Story of Stuff, a 20-minute video about the dangers of over-consumption. It "has become a sleeper hit in classrooms across the nation," Leslie Kaufman wrote in Sunday's New York Times: "So far, six million people have viewed the film at its site, storyofstuff.com, and millions more have seen it on YouTube. More than 7,000 schools, churches and others have ordered a DVD version, and hundreds of teachers have written Ms. Leonard to say they have assigned students to view it on the Web."

Critics object to the video's negative portrayal of big business, inaccuracies, and oversimplification. Even if you agree with Leonard’s main point—that we buy far too much, and that this is bad for us, for others, and for the earth—you may find the video unnecessarily confrontational.

Like it or not, chances are your kids (friends, relatives, coworkers) are going to watch this video, and it may come soon to a church near you. Stick with it, even if the first three minutes appall you. Leonard raises issues that Christians are already discussing (see, for example, the discussion of fair trade at the Ten Thousand Villages web site) and that we need to talk more about with our kids. For example:

• Let’s assume that some businesses do operate for the benefit of humankind and the earth. How do these businesses care for the environment? What are their policies on work hours? Wages? Health benefits? Child labor? The products they make? The way they market their products?
• Can a business care for the environment and its employees and still make a profit?
• How much of my identity is related to things I buy? Which of my purchases have made me happier? Am I happier today because of anything I bought last year?
  

My parish offers a two-year class in church history, and today we read an encyclical letter, “On the Development of Peoples,” written by Pope Paul VI in 1967. Noting that justice “calls for great generosity, willing sacrifice and diligent effort,” he made the discussion personal:

• Are we “prepared to support, at [our] own expense, projects and undertakings designed to help the needy?
• [Are we] prepared to pay higher taxes so that public authorities may expand their efforts in the work of development?
• [Are we] prepared to pay more for imported goods, so that the foreign producer may make a fairer profit?”

After thinking about these questions for a while, read the New Testament letter of James. It sounds like it was written directly to us.

Review: Animals Make Us Human

If you've read Animals in Translation, you already know author
Temple Grandin's theory that animals and people with autism perceive the world in similar ways. In their newest book, Animals Make Us Human, Grandin and co-author Catherine Johnson continue this theme, focusing on meeting animals' basic emotional needs in order to help them have the best possible life.

The book begins with dogs and cats, and I expected to lose interest when it moved on to horses, cows, pigs, and poultry. I figured I'd skim those chapters and slow down again when I got to wildlife and zoos. I was pleasantly surprised--the farm animals turned out to be as fascinating as the others. Best of all were the pigs.

"Almost everyone who spends a lot of time around pigs ends up thinking they're very smart animals," Grandin writes. "That's why George Orwell made the pigs the leaders of the revolution in Animal Farm. It's probably also why Winston Churchill said, 'I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.'" (174)

Unfortunately, all too often we treat pigs (and other farm animals) as raw material, with no concern for the animals' welfare. A sow, for example, is put in a gestation stall, where she is "kept confined during her entire pregnancy. The sow can lie down and stand up, but she cannot turn around. It's like being stuffed into the middle seat of a jam-packed jumbo jet for your whole adult life, and you're not ever allowed out in the aisle." (176)

Sow stalls were developed when pig farming was moved indoors. Farmers didn't know how to group the pigs so that they would live peaceably together (in another place Grandin explains how to do this), so they devised computerized feeders that allowed pigs access to the trough one at a time. "Electronics hadn't been miniaturized yet, so the sows had to wear a great big huge transponder the size of a tennis ball [attached to seat-belt strapping] around their necks to signal the gate." The devices were uncomfortable, though, so many of the pigs would chew through the strapping and remove them. "Some of the pigs figured out that the transponder was the key to the gate, so they'd pick up a chewed collar from the ground and carry it over to the gate and get to eat double rations while the other pig went hungry." (201)

You've got to love an animal as devious as that.

Grandin, who is autistic, nevertheless earned a PhD in animal science and is now an associate professor at Colorado State University. According to one of her web sites, "she has designed the facilities in which half the cattle are handled in the United States, consulting for firms such as Burger King, McDonald's, Swift and others." Thanks to her work, a lot of animals have much happier lives--and, as she points out, happier animals produce more and better meat.

To pastors, about your Mother's Day remarks

I don’t know how many pastors have noticed this, but as Mother’s Day approaches, a flurry of female bloggers are writing about the stress it can cause—especially for churchgoing women. See, for example, Vinita Hampton Wright’s post that begins, “I will not be attending church this Sunday, because it’s Mother’s Day... ,” or Caryn and Carla’s post on The Mommy Revolution titled “Mother’s Day Sermons ... Ugh.”

Here’s an idea, pastors. It’s partly mine, but it was inspired by e-mailed comments from a dear friend who will remain unnamed until she gives me permission to quote her. If you’re going to honor the mothers, do it like this:

1. First, do what you always do: have the mothers stand, give them roses (or chocolate, which is better), let them sit in peace but say nice things about them, whatever. Hint: avoid singling out the oldest mother or, heaven forbid, the mom with the most kids. Keep it brief.

2. Then honor all women who have ever loved a child. These may be aunts, big sisters, grandmothers, godmothers, foster mothers, cousins, family friends, teachers, catechists, nurses, therapists, nannies, librarians, doctors, neighbors, volunteers, coaches, social workers, house cleaners, crossing guards, school cafeteria employees... Be sure to give them chocolate too.

3. Finally, talk about the children in your parish and neighborhood who need love. My friend listed “hungry children; cocaine-addicted babies who need rocking; kids who need tutoring and school supplies; kids who need a Big Sister, foster mom, or adoptive mom.”

Suggest agencies that potential volunteers can contact. Where I live, that could include CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates for Children) , the Evangelical Child and Family Agency, Outreach Community Ministries, People’s Resource Center , Marianjoy Rehabilition Hospital, and the Glen Ellyn Children’s Resource Center —to name just a few.

Pastors, it’s good to honor mothers (step one), but if you stop there, a lot of us feel left out. Keep going to steps two and three, and we can all feel included. Even the guys.

The matriarchal blessing

With Mother’s Day just around the corner, I’ve been thinking about the matriarchal blessing—the moment when an old woman, staring death in the eye, communicates to a younger female relative or friend that life is good and love is eternal.

As far as I know, the only mention in the Bible of an older woman blessing a younger woman is when Elizabeth says to her young, unwed, pregnant relative Mary: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb” (Luke 1:42). Elizabeth probably wasn’t the matriarch of her family, and she wasn’t about to die, but her Spirit-inspired words were still similar to a matriarchal blessing. She welcomed the new life growing in Mary, and her loving hospitality surely must have given courage to the baffled young mother-to-be.

The more typical matriarchal blessing, however, is a deathbed event (think of Isaac blessing Esau and, inadvertently, Jacob; or Jacob blessing his own sons and grandsons).

“The last time I saw my mother alive was very, very special,” my friend Kathleen told me. Her mother, who was 90 years old, had been declining from Alzheimer’s disease for several years. “She was trying to talk about something but couldn't make words that were comprehensible, so she just decided to go to sleep. She must have napped for about a half hour. I stayed with her and held her hand. Her skin was so transparent that I wondered if she would die right then. But no. She woke up and squeezed my hand, and we had a chance to tell each other how much we loved each other. It was one of the best times I ever had with my mother.”

Kathleen and her mother exchanged very few words that day, but the message of love and continuity was clear. And sometimes the blessing is given with no words at all.

A week or so before my wedding date, my 91-year-old grandmother was taken to the hospital. She was not in pain, but she seemed to be in a coma. The doctors said she was dying. “Should I postpone the wedding?” I asked my parents. “No,” they said, “she would want you to go ahead.”

A few days before the wedding, I visited Grandma in the hospital. I took her hand, wondering if she sensed I was there. I spoke, wondering if she could hear. “Grandma,” I said, “I’m going to get married on Sunday.” She opened her eyes, pushed herself up on her elbows, and gave me a great big smile. I knew without a doubt that she had just given me her blessing.

My grandmother died about three weeks later, in April. Almost exactly 27 years after her death, my first grandchild was born. When Katie was five weeks old, she met my 85-year-old mother, her great-grandmother, for the first and only time. Mother had been suffering for six years with dementia. For more than a year, following a series of small strokes, she had been unable to speak. I visited her at the nursing home nearly every day, but it was impossible to know if anyone was at home behind her sad, blank eyes.

On Mother’s Day, four of us gathered in her room to honor her: me, my two daughters, and Katie. Mother was sitting in her recliner, and Molly carefully laid Katie on her lap, arranging Mother’s arms around the baby since Mother was unable to arrange them herself. (The picture at the beginning of this post shows my mother with her great-granddaughter.) Molly stepped back to look at the exhausted old woman cradling the healthy new baby—and suddenly Mother bent her head down and planted a kiss on baby Katie’s forehead.

That was a matriarchal blessing beyond all hoping.

Mother died quietly the following month. Katie is now a teenager. Life is good, and love is eternal.

Self-righteousness

I believe everything I wrote yesterday: torture is always wrong. No matter what.

However, last night I got to thinking about how very easy that is for me to say. I have never tortured anybody. I have never wanted to torture anybody. I have never even pulled the wings off a butterfly.

Nor am I in a position where I have the power to torture anybody, or to decide that anybody should be tortured, or to judge whether or not torture is legally permissible.

So, yes, torture is always wrong. But it's not something I've ever personally struggled with, so in making that judgment--the right judgment to make! and one that every Christian should agree with!--I can very easily slip into self-righteousness. I am right! (And I am, of course.) Those other Christians are wrong! (As indeed they are.) I am so much better than they are. (Whoa... not likely.)

Here's what I'm thinking I should do: pick a book of the Bible, any book. Read it for its big ideas. Try to identify its major ethical teachings, whether they are explicitly stated or implicit in the stories related. Look especially for areas where I clearly do not measure up. Ask myself why not, and see if I can do something about it--change an attitude, change a habit, add or subtract some activity, whatever.

I say I should do that. I don't know if I will. I expect it would be ever so much more difficult than saying torture is always wrong. Though of course it is very wrong, without exception.

Torture and white Christians

I am distressed by the Pew survey showing that of all religious groups, white evangelicals are most likely to approve of torture and white Catholics are second most likely. Yes, Catholics had the Spanish Inquisition and Puritans had the pillory, stocks, and branding, but I’d hoped we’d gotten past all that. Perhaps the survey results are just one more indication that the doctrine of total depravity is correct.

Fortunately, the survey doesn’t tell the whole story. The post by Mr Neff on CT’s LiveBlog notes that in 2006, Christianity Today magazine ran a cover story called “Five Reasons Torture Is Always Wrong,” and in 2007 a wide range of evangelical leaders signed a document called “An Evangelical Declaration Against Torture: Protecting Human Rights in an Age of Terror.” Many evangelicals are appalled by torture and have been speaking out against it for years.

Likewise, the Catechism of the Catholic Church said in 1997 that "Torture which uses physical or moral violence to extract confessions, punish the guilty, frighten opponents, or satisfy hatred is contrary to respect for the person and for human dignity," and the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops issued a document in February 2008 that began, "The Church stands firm in denouncing torture as it undermines and debases the dignity of both victims and perpetrators. Pope Benedict XVI said 'the prohibition against torture cannot be contravened under any circumstance.'"

What would the world think of Christians if we stood up for human rights for the poor as well as the rich, for the unborn as well as the born, for the old and sick as well as the young and healthy, for women and children as well as men, for the guilty as well as the innocent, for immigrants as well as citizens, for gays as well as straights, for Muslims as well as Christians, for enemies as well as friends—even when doing so is unpopular among our friends or downright dangerous, and even when we disagree with the people whose rights we are protecting?

Most Christians, thanks be to God, already stand up for human rights in most of those situations. Unfortunately, all of us (being human) find some causes more compatible than others, and all of us have blind spots. Perhaps the Pew survey will challenge us to reexamine our attitudes in those areas where our politics and the views of our friends may be at odds with the teachings of Jesus.