Love | Dreaming Beneath the Spires

God can Extract Gold from the Griefs of the Past

There is always another one walking beside you T.S. Eliot Wasteland

Emmaus, by Slovenian Jesuit Marco Rupnik from HolyArt.com

So, the new “Great Books” book group I’ve got together (we’re steadily reading chronologically through the Classics!) read the ancient Greek trilogy The Oresteia last week. The plot: Orestes avenges the murder of his father Agamemnon by his mother Clytemnestra by killing her. And then, the Furies–personified forces of guilt and conscience–hound and oppress him. In the National Theatre production that I watched online, Orestes shuts his ears while they chant and torment.

The scene triggered inchoate half-remembered memories. Memory followed memory in a vicious circle, and I found myself experiencing snatches of what the evil clinical psychologist Henry Harlow (who tortured rhesus monkeys by isolating them for six months to a year in an inverted pyramid from which they could not escape) called the dungeon or pit of despair…

Painful memories from the past re-emerging… It’s not an uncommon experience, I daresay.

* * *

What is the way out? Not by playing the spool of traumatic memory on repeat. But one must notice the memories, not squash them or shove them underground where they might grow, fester and emerge in a more terrible form

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond. (Rumi)

* * *

So how did I deal with the traumatic memory that scene triggered, and troubling memories in general? As it happens, there is a whole branch of Charismatic Christian psychology which deals with it, known as the healing of memories. It lets the light in.

You remember that Christ was there when you suffered that trauma. You were wrapped in invisible light. So nothing worse happened.

The past is never dead. It’s not even past, Faulkner famously wrote. That is its curse. The body keeps the score as psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk writes in his excellent book: The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.

But… more. God keeps the score. God stores all our tears in a bottle, the Psalmist poetically says. And because the past is not dead, and it is not really past, it can be redeemed. Its trauma and meaning can be changed as God uses the experience, and brings green shoots from the ashes, roses from the rubble.

So what we must do with the past-but-still-alive thing in our bodies and memories is to invite God–for whom all time is brightly alive, for whom past, present and future exist in a single continuum–in. To invite him to bathe the scene in light. To take the sting from the memory. And then to redeem it. To bring good out of it.

Good ? What good?

Whatever good God chooses. Wisdom perhaps. Compassion for those who’ve similarly suffered. Kindness. The ministry of “The Wounded Healer.” Understanding of how we should live. Understanding of how our own sins and weaknesses led to the trauma (if they did). Understanding of others.

The past is present to God, who sees all time in a shimmering, still-active continuum. The old, unhappy, buried things in our lives are merely planted, and God can bring forth exquisitely beautiful things from what we view as dead seeds of pain, trauma, and failure. For those who love God, everything works out for good, the Apostle Paul famously and puzzlingly says. How? Because God can make it work out for good.

* * *

The escape routes I know from the black hole of painful memories is the tunnel of love which includes the tunnel of forgiveness–self-forgiveness, and forgiveness of others.

“If you, oh Lord, should count our sins, who would survive?” the Psalmist says. Similarly, if we hold onto other people’s sins against us, if the precious ones in our lives keep a record of our sins against them, which relationship would survive? For who hasn’t sinned against those they love? Most importantly, if we hold on to a record of wrongs, we wouldn’t survive in joy, and peace, and creativity. Forgiveness is not easy, it may take repeated attempts and prayer for grace. Eventually, I can testify, by the grace of God, it comes.

* * *

Yes, the tunnel out of dark places, out of negative spirals, is love.

What is love?

Because Jesus had this super-brilliant mind, it’s always best to go with his definitions. His short-hand definition of love is what is rightly called, ‘the golden rule’: “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.” Scatter teeny-tiny deeds of kindness along your path, according to your capacity, and nature…

Of course, not every difficult relationship, whether at church, with extended family, and at work, needs to be pursued. Sometimes, we just act with grace and kindness, pray a quick arrow prayer for the person when they come to mind, and let them go, realising that this is not the best relationship in which to invest the limited time we have on earth.

But, in general, we must love one another or die, as the poet W. H. Auden says…. And in transforming a difficult relationship we want to keep, we must bend the other way, in Saint Ignatius’s phrase, maybe overdo the love and care and forgiveness, until loving becomes the norm. (This, incidentally, is the way to break the grip of vicious circles in our lives… want to wake early, go to bed super-early; want to become tidy… for a while, devote time to becoming super-tidy…).

So, we let it go, let the past go, and instead live in the present, and gently, inexorably, bring light where there was darkness; positivity where there was negativity; plant green seeds of love, gentleness and service, where there was hate, baby step by baby step, into greenness and light.

* * *

This post was sponsored by holyart.com. Please check them out.

Books Mentioned

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk. Excellent resource for those recovering from trauma. On Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk

Sealed Orders: Agnes Sandford’s wonderful memoir deals with the healing of memories. On Amazon.co.uk and on Amazon.com

The Oresteia on Amazon.co.uk and on Amazon.com.

The Poetry of Rumi on Amazon.com and on Amazon.co.uk

Thoughts on my Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary

By Anita Mathias

So Roy and I have been married for 25 years.

It’s customary to dispense advice on such occasions, but I have little to give.

The things that have worked for us have evolved slowly. And conversely, some advice from the marriage books—“Always go to the bed at the same time,” have wasted time.

* * *

Barbara Brown Taylor made famous the question, “What is saving your life right now?”

Well, here are some things that are saving our marriage.

1 Getting a weekly cleaner. Oh yes!

2 The weekly date. Or perhaps a walk together several times a week.

3 Deciding that throwing things is a very expensive way of resolving an argument.

4 Forgiveness. A mental act of balancing. I know Roy would do most things for me, within reason, and often without reason, and when I am very angry, I place that against my reason for rage!!

I remember that I have committed to love him, and that my discipleship of Christ isn’t worth much, if I can’t love the person who loves me most.

5 Travel. Ah, travel! Travel saves our marriage (a FACT hotly disputed by my other half!)

It gives us time to be together, to see new art and architecture, to experience history, to revel in nature, to eat new foods, and laugh at (and with) new people.

It’s time out that we’d be unlikely to take at home, given our busy-bee, workaholic driven natures.

Travel is a major source of happiness, as is our garden.

6 Learning that not every criticism needs to be voiced. I now quietly think, “My, isn’t he being annoying!!” For perhaps the first twenty years, I’d declare, “Roy, you are being very annoying!” Now I roll my eyes, and return to work.

Okay, I guess most people learnt this in kindergarten, but in many ways, I am a late developer!

In fact, much of this probably sounds so blindingly obvious to any mature adult that if you stop reading right now, I’ll forgive you!

7 Me, I increasingly do life by prayer, but for years I omitted to pray faithfully for Roy, and I often still forget. Mea Culpa, and I repent.

8 When our partner felt far too infuriating for any rational adult to endure, we got help, separately, and together, from some superb Christians. We are specially grateful to our dear friend Paul Miller, author of the excellent A Praying Life for discipling us over five years.

* * *

When Ruth, spunky wife of Billy Graham, was asked if she had ever contemplated divorce, she famously said, ‘Divorce? No! Murder? Yes.’

Divorce wasn’t an option for us, either. Ah, we’ve sat in exhaustion, sighed, and said brightly, “Let’s–get–divorced!!” and grinned happily and, in that instant, it seemed as if with that act all our problems would waft away, especially what seemed like our biggest problem: each other.

But then Roy remembered that I probably would get lost on the way to the grocery store or burn my dinner, and I thought he would let the house get SO messy and lose everything in it, while he played chess all day, and he thought I would be crushed by life’s practicalities, and I thought he would get too sad without me and live on oatmeal.

And so we checked the name of our marriage certificates, discovered that apparently we were married to the right person, and so we continued.

And our marriage has got better year after year.

And so it should, so it should, for Christians, who if they are half-way, quarter-way decent at following Christ should be growing each year in mercy, pity, peace and love.

***

At our wedding, the celebrant outlined all we had going for us. We were highly educated, with Oxbridge undergraduate degrees and US advanced degrees, intelligent enough, young, healthy, with at least one profession between us.

But we had liabilities too: intensity; type-A personalities; drivenness; hot, hot tempers… In many ways, we were too like each other.

We’ve had adventures. Married in Binghamton, NY; a year in Cornell, Ithaca, New York for a post-doc for Roy; another year at Stanford, Palo Alto, California another post-doc; and then two years in Minneapolis, Minnesota yet another post-doc; then 12 years at The College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Virginia where Roy became a professor of mathematics, and then Roy won a prestigious mathematical prize and the world opened up, and there were job offers, and he was a visiting professor at the University of Manchester, and then at Oxford, and then got a chair at the University of Birmingham.

And I wrote, moving from poetry to prose, and then improbably started a business which within 3 years grew too big and too complex for me to run alone.

“20 years is far too long to be a mathematician.” I said, and Roy frowned.

Nah, I never saw the point of maths, just as he never saw the point of poetry…

And Roy quit maths to run the company I founded, morphing from a mathematician to an entrepreneur—something I can definitely see the point of!!–and I morphed from a poet to a memoirist and a blogger, writing about us on the world wide web, no doubt much to Roy’s embarrassment.

Our hair was black; now, there are shades of grey.

We were barely Christian; now we are thoroughly Christian. Yeah, we’ve come a long way, baby!

We’ve had two daughters, Zoe and Irene, happy and clever.

We’ve owned three homes in Minneapolis, Minnesota, Williamburg, Virginia, and Oxford, England (not at the same time).

We’ve had five dogs in the course of our marriage, all from rescues, except our current adorable, but not yet fully-trained Merry the Labradoodle.

We’ve travelled in so many countries. Too many to count, and we can’t, since we don’t know where our old passports are. (We’ve each changed citizenship three times, India-US-UK for me, and NZ-US-UK for Roy.) But let me try: Israel, Japan, Mexico, Costa Rica, New Zealand, Czech Republic, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Holland, Greece, Spain, Italy, France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Malta, Luxembourg, oh most European countries…

Too much travel. Probably!

* * *

Marriage is a place of belonging and acceptance. It can also be a purifying fire, a place of rapid growing up, of growth in grace, in mercy, in forgiveness and wisdom

And what comes out of the purifying fire?

Eventually gold refined until impurities vanish.

The gold of a long marriage.

* * *

Sometimes at the end of a marathon, while the completers are savouring their iced lemonade and smuggery, and the cheers have almost died down, you see a couple emerging from the mist, arms draped around each other, staggering towards the finish line.

There they are, they have done it, they have limped their marathon, they have hobbled, but they have completed it.

And here they are, ridiculously grinning, so pleased with themselves, quite oblivious of the fact that others have long finished and are now napping at home.

And that too is success of the kind. The success of persisting.

Ah, see them now, the big smile on their faces. Against the odds they’ve finished that race, they’ve kept the faith, they are ready for the next marathon.

So Happy Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Roy. Happy Twenty-fifty Anniversary Me. Happy Twenty-fifty anniversary, Us.

* * *

Tweetables

What’s saving your marriage right now? Thoughts on my 25^th wedding anniversary from @anitamathias1

Lessons learned from 25 years of marriage from @anitamathias1

God of the Clanging Cymbal

By Anita Mathias

You are

the God of the noisy gongs,

and you are the God

of the clanging cymbals,

of those who speak in the tongues of angels

and are impatient,

who prophesy

and are unkind,

who understand mysteries

and resent the success of the unworthy,

whose faith moves mountains,

and are rude and easily angered.

Such people are “nothing,” Paul says.

You are the God of those nothings.

* * *

You are God of the wildly generous

And yet self-seeking,

Who surrender their body to the flames

In ardent faith, but remember

every wrong done to them

and are delighted

when retribution overtakes their persecutors

And so gain nothing. Alas!

You see their tragedy. You are their God.

* * *

And when I speak and write eloquently

But am neither patient, nor kind

I still love you,

And oddly, you love me,

Noisy old clanging cymbal.

And when I prophesy, truly

And envy a friend’s success,

And when in a flash of insight,

I fathom mysteries,

And I gain knowledge,

through toil, or your spirit

And tell (okay, boast!)

Oddly, I still love you,

And you love me.

And when my simple faith has moved

Obstacles, and I subtly

Take all the credit for it,

Goodness, you still love me,

And, you know–I love you, Jesus.

When I give far more than I afford,

In a grand gesture I regret for years

But am easily angered

And remember ancient grievances,

And am delighted when my enemies reap

What they’ve sown–at last, at last,

And smile that there’s justice in the universe

Oh Lord, you see and you know,

You shake your head, and you love me.

And I love you.

* * *

I would like to learn to love

A dangerous prayer. And now I

Want to flee from it far beyond the sea,

But will not.

Jesus, I believe in your love for me,

(Most of the time!)

No, truly, I do.

Let the river of that love

Flow through me to other people

Let me follow you

In the most excellent way!

The Best Two Word Definition of Love

By Anita Mathias

There was a prophetically poignant moment in the otherwise fairytale romance of Prince Charles and Lady Diana.

Interviewer: Are you in love?

Diana, instantly, “Of course.”

Charles, qualifying, “Whatever in love means.”

Probably every marriage goes through “Do you love each other?” “Of course.” “Whatever love means…” seasons.

And then it helps to remember the best definition of love I know: Love Does. It is not just a feeling, an abstract noun, but a verb.

So, this Valentine’s Day week, I have been considering what Love Does, and how to make tiny changes in my relationship with Roy.

Well, a walking date together each week, and I will help clear the dishes after meals. Normally, he has been doing that while I deal with the email, tweets, Facebook messages and blog comments which have invariably accumulated during the meal. Yeah, social media is time-consuming!! And so is love!