I want to say something substantial about the life and death of Robin Williams, but I’m still reflecting on it. It’s too big.
My brain is stumbling and stuttering on it all.
Here’s a short something that’s been percolating today and I hope to find more thoughtful things to say later. It’s just sad and it’s hard to write when I’m sad.
A life cut short is sad and tragic. But, a life negated (taken. i.e. in a murder of one’s self) instead of lived is incomprehensible. Incomprehensible to a healthy mind.
The instinct to live is so primal that we avoid accidents and death reflexively. A deer crosses our path and we slam on the brakes without ever thinking that we are making the choice to save our lives. We duck when we hear loud sounds.
But, too much thinking that can go badly.
Depression is illness. One that kills. It grabs hard and won’t let go. Chronic depression is like a blindness that never really ends until you do. You can get through life, but you are impaired the whole time.
Having struggled with it in fits and stages since early adolescence, I’m more devastated by the idea of depression beating Williams than I thought I’d be. I also compensated for it all by trying to be the funniest person in the room.
Eventually, I looked for healing instead. Sometimes I feel like I’ve found it, at least in part.
“[of Depression] All it wants is to get you in a room alone and kill you.” –Harvey Fierstein
Again, last night I heard from a man about my age whose been locked up for more than 20 years. Plenty of the men I encounter have spent more time behind bars than outside them.
PLEASE, try to imagine that for a moment.
Want the truth? For some, the thought of going back “to the streets” as they call it, fills them with true dread and anxiety. The world outside of prison is full of unknowns and it’s absent of structure (like 3 meals a day, concrete expectations, and consistent scheduling). There are hazards and temptations, and of course, a bleak outlook employment for future employment. They have little or no ways for doing legitimate work. (Would YOU hire a felon?) Some inmates are so fearful of the outside and paralyzed by their prospects that they will purposefully break rules, hurt others, or commit crimes in prison to lengthen their sentence.
Imagine picking to be in prison rather that choosing to start over anew in freedom.
It seems insane, perhaps, until you realize the terrific poignancy:
Captivity is primarily is located in the mind.
This is just as true for non felons. • Too many of us walk around is prisons of our own making. We see closed doors instead of open ones. We let our past tell us a story about ourselves that can continue to enact. We feel trapped or confined with no way to truly free ourselves. We stay oppressed by sin, soul sickness, and slow forms of dying.
We all need healing to find the fruition of Justice.
True justice involves restoration and rehabilitation for re-entry into community and renewed relationships.
Even the Federal Government realizes this. Prisoners need to prepare ahead of time for release and transform their ways of thinking and doing things. New programs have launched that focus on acquiring skills and tools for successful re-entry into communities were a return to crime and old ways becomes less probable. Building more prisons isn’t working. Many of these re-entry programs focus on drawing from a deeper spiritual place and making choices based on the highest of morals to ensure that the best outcomes are the result. They rely on volunteers to help. Amazing that more resources aren’t carved out for something so important, huh? As a volunteer, I’m working multiple times per week teaching and guiding inmates to prepare them for their eventual release.
But God has put something else on my heart.
• I want my brothers behind bars to be missionaries to fellow-inmates. • I want them to be lights in that dark place. • I want them to pray for others and be sources of support and encouragement. • I want them to be vehicles of God’s love and rays of hope for everyone they encounter. Last night, I told them out loud. As I shared my vision with them, the excitement was palpable. They started smiling. They nodded in agreement. Some laughed because they had been thinking the same thing. God has been at work long before I showed up. They want to be a part of what God is doing. They want to be a part of something bigger in the family of God, now, and in the Kingdom of God past, present, and future. It’s a kingdom that was inaugurated fully with Jesus the King more than 2,000 years. It’s a Kingdom that will continue, as is has all over the world, all the way into eternity. Forever and ever, Amen.
In sharing a vision, where others can use their gifts and talents for a greater purpose, we inject meaning and hope. What power that has!
These men are men who are having their hope renewed.
My small hometown–Murrysville, PA–is undergoing a time of shock and pain because of the Alex Hribal’s attack. Two steak knives and a blood bath. Many heroes were made, but the event was and is traumatic–rocking the community to its core.
My young niece (the daughter of my brother’s who is a Franklin Regional Alumnus from the 1990s) was not allowed to attend her classes at the elementary building at Franklin Regional and her street shut down as FBI, State Police, and legions of first responders, media, and others have swarmed the scene.
My family’s church, the church were I was married, mourns as an entire community and feels trauma and pain deeply because several from their youth group teen were wounded. Some of them have undergone surgery.
All are expected to survive. Praise be to God for that grace.
It would be easy to say this youth of 16 years old is a monster, but students attest that he was very nice. Answers for why it all happened are left unanswered at this time.
In these times, the community of faith raises its voice in communal lament. We are comforted by each other and by a good God who is with us in our pain.
Sadly, violence has become a normal occurrence in school settings… and it may be your hometown that suffers next. But, parish the thought!
If not that, than surely you and your community will encounter pain and loss.
For that, here are some thoughts on Communal Lament.
1. About 1/3 of the Psalms are songs of lament. They are meant to be sung as prayers. They can be read with that in mind.
2. God invites us to cry out in our pain, not to suppress it, or put on a “happy face”. That kind of honesty dignifies our feelings and helps us feel our emotions fully, so we can move toward healing.
3. Communal laments are always meant to be expressed in the context of ongoing faith and trust in God.
4. Our laments (communal and individual) are a normal response to the pain and loss of life and living; they help us experience greater bonds of community and healing from God.
5. Laments of the psalms are unvarnished. That is an important quality to understand. They depict the anguish, desperation, pain, and messy feelings that often smack of ill-intension toward enemies and abusers, in parts. They may seem to condone retaliatory violence. But, that’s not the end of the story (song)…
6. If the reader or hearer pays close attention, she or he will notice each song ends in hope and trust in the Lord. This is key to the communal lament. All is left in God’s hands.
(In this way, our burdens lift and our faith grows.)
7. Communal laments are a cry from a whole group for Justice (things to be put to rights) and this ultimately necessitates the elements of…
• Mercy
• Forgiveness
• Reconciliation
• Restoration
• Redemption
Here is a resource on the types and categories of Psalms. May they be of comfort to you.
Join with your community and raise your voices in lament when your hearts are heavy with sadness, pain, and grief.
For your reflection:
Psalm 63
A psalm of David, regarding a time when David was in the wilderness of Judah.
1 O God, you are my God;
I earnestly search for you.
My soul thirsts for you;
my whole body longs for you
in this parched and weary land
where there is no water.
2 I have seen you in your sanctuary
and gazed upon your power and glory.
3 Your unfailing love is better than life itself;
how I praise you!
4 I will praise you as long as I live,
lifting up my hands to you in prayer.
5 You satisfy me more than the richest feast.
I will praise you with songs of joy.
6 I lie awake thinking of you,
meditating on you through the night.
7 Because you are my helper,
I sing for joy in the shadow of your wings.
8 I cling to you;
your strong right hand holds me securely.
9 But those plotting to destroy me will come to ruin.
They will go down into the depths of the earth.
10 They will die by the sword
and become the food of jackals.
11 But the king will rejoice in God.
All who trust in him will praise him,
while liars will be silenced.
Before I follow up (click here for part I), I want to say that I’ve learned that talking too much about a splendid spiritual experience is problematic:
1. There’s really no way language can encompass something mystical (an experience with the divine). It just won’t translate.
2. Sometimes the more you sort it out the more the sweet memory lifts in a puff and vaporizes. I just hate doing that to it. It’s like squeezing a kitten until you hear a pop. Bad idea.
(And the details work more like forensics too, like writing a research paper on your first kiss. By paragraph three you just regret starting to tackle the project at all. Not that I tried to do that, because that would be weird.)
I don’t pray the whole time when I go away for a prayer retreat. I have a Brother Lawrence life of faith, mostly. Integrated. That means Life is Prayer. Prayer is lived. Each breath is an exchange of that gift of life up into the atmosphere. That hope and petition… and God is everywhere, receiving it with a smile.
Sometimes when I tell people I go for a whole day to pray, I get weird looks. They think it must be work or simply beyond boring. Or worst of all…that it’s super spiritual and religious. It’s not whatsoever. It’s carnival of inner joy. I wish it for everyone.
A typical day away
So when I’m there, I turn off my phone, I walk the halls or the grounds, enjoy the paintings, sculptures, the plants, gardens, wildlife and scenery. I pray, worship, and intercede for others in the onsite chapel or in the little alcoves, prayer rooms, the library, or benches outdoors. When I get stiff I stretch and walk a bit more. I journal, write prayers, take notes and a few photos, and I read scripture or devotional books… just short bits. They have an art room, so sometimes I draw or paint. I enjoy snacks I brought and a good hearty lunch on the grounds. I make sure that nothing is done out of obligation or becomes drudgery. Sometimes I just sit there and be. Many times. I allow myself to truly relax and be myself. How life-giving it is. My heart fills up. It is truly sacred space. Somehow more fully the permission is given, the place is consecrated for pilgrims to come alive and enjoy it all, and feel loved ever deeply by our good Maker. Do you like picnics? It’s like that.
Sometimes I feel the shine of God and sometimes it seems God is thinking and being quiet next to me. We’re friends and friends can do that.
So, instead of going into everything I enjoyed and relished in the details, I’ll share a few field notes and let the rest be hidden to ponder in my heart.
• The Sacred will hush you and bring you home.
• As jars of clay filled with treasure (God within) we need rest and reconnection to be cleaned out and readied for God’s use in holy work.
• Life is short, bitter-sweet, and suffused with exquisite joy and ravaging sorrow–all that makes us more human but it takes divine healing through it to become whole. We are simply too fragile to do “being human” apart. Beside God, we need people who love God. People have God inside, and that helps.
• The birds aren’t frantic as I assumed for too long; they are alive with work. Excited to be themselves.
• Deep calls to Deep. In God’s whispers the deepest parts of ourselves are stirred yet we often mistake it for other things.
# # #
When was the last time you got away?
If you’d like to go and you live near Reading/Lebanon, Pa, let me know. I’m always happy to go with a companion. I travel there with a friend or two, then we go off, each own our way to enjoy God or pray and then meet back up for lunch and sometimes discuss it a bit.
I also offer a guided experience there, and more info for that is here if you are interested.
Again, last night I heard from a man about my age whose been locked up for more than 20 years. Plenty of the men I encounter have spent more time behind bars than outside them. 
