Author: Pat Liberty

Imagine that you are a recovering addict on a methadone maintenance program. Imagine too that you are in need of physical rehabilitation following serious orthopedic surgery.  What do you think are your options for care?

Since this is happening in my family right now, I can tell you that the answer to the question this: not many. The facility my family member ended up in is a hell hole. The food is barely fit for pigs. The physical therapy is non-existent; the care orders and prescriptions given at the time of discharge from the in-patient rehabilitation center are not followed. The facility is dingy, old and depressing. It is chronically understaffed. The ground she gained while at in-patient rehab is completely lost. This is what happens as a result of stigma and shame for people who struggle with addiction. No one wants addicts so they end up in the worst of the worst places.  

According to the Centers for Disease Prevention and Control, opioid-involved overdose deaths rose from 21,088 in 2010 to 47,600 in 2017 and remained steady in 2018 with 46,802 deaths. This was followed by a significant increase in 2019 with 49,860 overdose deaths.  

Since 1999 nearly 841,000 people have died from a drug overdose. This is the number of people in a medium size city. 

• Synthetic opioids (other than methadone) are currently the main driver of drug overdose deaths. Synthetic opioids account for 72.9% of deaths.
• Drug overdose deaths involving psychostimulants such as methamphetamine are increasing with and without synthetic opioid involvement.
• Opioid overdoses that do not lead to death are several times more common than fatal overdoses.

Opioid addiction is equal opportunity. It strikes women and men of all ages, socioeconomic status, education and income. In our rush to judgement we tend to think it happens “somewhere else” i.e. not in our community and not among people like us.   

As the pandemic dragged on fears were raised that already-rising drug overdose deaths could surge even further amid social isolation, economic stress and disrupted access to treatment facilities and providers. These fears were realized with a staggering 93,351 deaths in 2020.

Even though the numbers are rising, societal attitudes toward addiction and overdose have not changed for the most part. The judgement, stigma and shunning that happens to addicts and family members with addicts is stunning. The question people think but do not ask parents is ”what did you do wrong to make your kid an addict?” The question people think but do not ask addicts is “why can’t you get your s*** together and kick this thing?”

It would be wonderful to think that the church is a place where such judgement and lack of compassion doesn’t happen. Sadly, that is not the case. While there are some exemplary communities supporting people in recovery, the majority fail miserably.

Much of what we know or think we know is flat out wrong. It’s that simple. And to the extent that we are ignorant about the nature of addiction it is easy to sit on the sidelines and pronounce our seemingly morally high ground judgements.

Addiction is a complex disease that has many components. Life circumstance, genetic pre-disposition, emotion and physical pain are just a few of the things that impact substance abuse.  And who are we to pass judgement?

Judging others makes it impossible to love them. Above all, we are called to love one another.

It’s a good time to ask what Jesus would do. The gospels demonstrate that Jesus consistently reached out to the sick, disenfranchised and broken people of the world in which he lived. The gospels further demonstrate that Jesus was all about healing and restoring.  

That’s not to say that Jesus was all mushy and warm fuzzy. Jesus didn’t shy from the truth. Inasmuch as he spoke truth to power in his public ministry, he also spoke truth to those who were trapped in their own brokenness. The rich young ruler, Nicodemus and the woman at the well were people Jesus confronted with the truth.  It wasn’t a moralistic judgement passing, but rather a statement of truth and a call to wholeness.

During his earthly life Jesus also called people to community as a place to live out their growing wholeness. As Jesus’ people in the world this now falls to us. And the only way we can do this is by digging deep, routing out our prejudices and judgements and learning how to love as Jesus loved. It is something we never fully accomplish, but neither are we exempted from the command. It is the discipline of a lifetime.

As a parish pastor this phrase used to irk the hell out of me. I thought it was some sort of cop-out to not get up on Sunday morning. Or maybe they were disgruntled former church members who discovered the church was just as human as any other institution. Perhaps their family did not go to church when they were growing up, so there was no established habit or denominational preference. Perhaps they were so wounded by a church they couldn’t imagine ever returning. Perhaps they saw no reason to affiliate with an institution on the cutting edge of obsolescence. Or maybe they were just plain fed up with the church having little or nothing to do with Jesus. Whatever the reason I filtered it through the lens of trying to grow the church I was serving, and these spiritual but not religious types were not helpful. They did, however, come to the church when they wanted to get married, have a child baptized or have a funeral for a loved one. And of course the church opened its arms in welcome. Mostly we never saw them again.

More and more people describe themselves as spiritual but not religious. People probably have varying definitions of what this means; but what is consistent is that, for the most part, they feel no need to participate in institutionalized religion. I get it. There isn’t a church on the planet that isn’t screwed up in some way, some more than others. The church is a human institution and as such all the frailties and foibles of human beings play out in the life of the church. It can be crazy-making.

As someone who served the church all my life, I can also attest to the fact that churches can be the most loving, faithful, inspirational communities in the world. Churches are the institution God chose to be Holy hands, feet and hearts at work in the world.  When the church can get out of its own way and actually do real mission and ministry, it is an amazing thing. As Margaret Mead said, “Never doubt that a small committed group of people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” If more churches were actually living the gospel, the world would be a very different place.

Now that I am six years into retirement, life has changed dramatically. I am an unintentional recluse. I belong to the church of my childhood, about 90 miles from where I live. I didn’t get custody of my local church in the divorce. My attendance at church is spotty at best. I do miss the communal singing, gathering at the communion table and fellowship with people I have known all my life. I believe there is a part of the Christian faith that can only be lived in community.

I never thought I would say it, but truth be told I am becoming spiritual but not religious. Not being able to attend church means I have to find other ways to nurture my spiritual life and ground myself in my faith. It has broadened my sense of worship and deepened my understanding that everything is holy.

It is a holy thing to watch vegetable blossoms turn into tomatoes, squash, beans and cucumbers. Watching the birds that find our backyard a haven of safety is an act of worship. I am struck silent in awe by the beauty of a summer day or the ferocity of a storm. I am inspired by the words of others who make me think differently about what it means to be a person of faith. I keep a journal and have quiet time every day. I listen to music that feeds my soul. I have a deeper appreciation for my tribe, that small group of people who show up no matter what, on whose fellowship I depend and through whose love I continue to grow. Many of them are also spiritual but not religious, but they embody the Christian faith in beautiful ways.

My heart is broken daily by the suffering, pain and hatred in the world. Watching the news is almost unbearable. Like many others I feel helpless to do anything to alleviate their suffering. All I can do is pray they will have some sense of the presence of the Holy to sustain them. I don’t pray for God to fix it. We don’t give God to-do lists. We humans messed it up; we are going to have to fix it. If I were younger and healthier I would be on a plane to work in the refugee camps, but alas that is not an option. What I can do is work to make my little part of the world a better place and live the love of Jesus as best I can. As the old saying goes, “If everyone swept in front of their own house the world would be a lot cleaner.”

Turns out, for the most part I am doing okay without the church. Whodathunkit? Surely I never did. My idea of what it means to be spiritual but not religious may be unique, or maybe not. It works for me and no one is more surprised than I.

It is widely believed that Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive. In truth there is no evidence of that in any of the gospels. Still it is an expression we have taken to heart. Whoever said it (widely believed to be Paul in Acts 20) neglected to mention that it is also a lot easier. Giving makes us feel good. Making meals for a sick friend or working for a charity gives a sense of satisfaction.

Giving also feeds our sense of independence. It demonstrates our ability to manage our own affairs and help others with our resources. Having our own house in order feeds the “rugged individualism” introduced by Herbert Hoover in the late 1920’s and early thirties. It is now woven into the warp and woof of our culture. There is no question it is easier to give than to receive regardless of whatever blessing may come our way as a result.

This perspective also means it is pretty hard to ask for help, or to need help. It can be seen as a sign of weakness, some indication we can’t manage our own affairs. For the most part we hate to be needy. Some say that being needy when accustomed to being totally independent is humbling. I’m not sure that is the right word. Merriam Webster Dictionary defines humbling as, “to lower someone’s dignity or importance.” While it may be a feeling we have when we are needy, in truth this definition is not helpful.

Asking for help or needing help in no way lowers one’s importance or dignity. It simply means life circumstances have changed. These changes may be temporary or permanent. Either way it has nothing to do with dignity or importance.

What lowers one’s dignity or importance is being made to feel shame for being needy, being “less than” or being marginalized. What erodes dignity is not having access to what one needs. In our culture access and importance are assigned by social status, economic resources, education, productivity and a host of other false categories.

Our importance is defined by being human and being made in the image of the Divine. It has nothing to do with what we do, what we have or what we need. It is all about who we are. A better definition of being humbled comes from my favorite apologist Frederick Buechner, “True humility doesn’t consist of thinking ill of yourself, but of not thinking of yourself much differently from the way you’d be apt to think of anybody else.”

Humility has nothing to do with neediness, ours or anyone else’s. Another way of thinking about neediness is as an expression of interdependence. Interdependence creates a framework for shared humanity. Interdependence assumes we will all take our turn at being needy. It also suggests we have some responsibility to others when they are needy.

Most of us have some remedial work to do when it comes to asking for help. Looking at our assumptions and values around neediness is a good place to start. We all stand on equal ground in the heart of the holy. It’s a good place to start.

Perfection: “noun, the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.” (Oxford Languages)

Perfectionism: noun, refusal to accept any standard short of perfection; “the need to be or appear to be perfect, or even to believe that it is possible to achieve perfection.…Perfectionism is not the same thing as striving to be our best. Perfection is not about healthy achievement and growth.” (GoodTherapy.org)

Perfection and perfectionism are two difficult words in the English language. The notion that we are able to be free from flaw or defect sets many people on a path of self-destruction in search of an unattainable goal. This is slipping over the line to perfectionism. After all, we are only mortal. This is the first bit of good news.

There is something to be said for striving to be our best, but that’s not the framework here. Surely every great stride in science, medicine, writing and all the arts have grown from the desire to be and do better. Watching the Olympics is a study in athletic excellence that pushes the human body to be its very best. Still, it is different from the pull of perfection that plagues and paralyzes so many.

There is a big hunk of religious baggage that attaches itself to the words perfect and perfectionism. In Matthew 5:48, these words are attributed to Jesus: “Be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect.” As a kid I figured I was pretty much screwed as I had no chance of touching those words with a ten foot pole.

It wasn’t until I was in seminary that I learned that the translation of the Greek word to be “perfect” was complete garbage. I heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe I did have a better chance than a snowball in August. The jury was still out.

The verse should read, “Be complete, even as your Father in heaven is complete.” The verse is an invitation to wholeness.  Being complete begins with the assertion that we are made in the image of God and that we are most complete when we live in a defining relationship with God. It means a relationship that supersedes all other relationships. Gratefully this is not a task to be accomplished in a proscribed time frame, say a week from next Tuesday, but rather a life-long journey that centers and grounds the rest of life.

To say it is unfortunate that the translating fathers (and yes they were men) messed up this verse is an understatement. It contributes to so many followers seeing themselves as total failures who have no chance of being anything else. Being perfect may not  be one of the Big Ten, but being attributed to Jesus gives it a bit more clout than the average Joe muttering it under his breath on the way to his lunch break.

We tend to give the “words of Jesus” a whole lot of power, so it really sucks when people get them wrong. Jesus invites his followers to be complete, to be whole. It is nothing short of a wholesale transformation of our way of being in the world. And luckily we have the rest of our lives to live into the journey, knowing we will never fully attain it. This is one of those times when the goal is secondary to the journey. This is the next bit of good news.

We are invited into an eternal waltz with the Holy One where life is changed and reshaped as a result of the dance. It teaches us to love creation and treat it with reverence and respect. No more throwing trash out the window. Doing a better job caring for the few square feet of land entrusted to us for the time being. It means remembering that, as the old kids’ song goes, “All God’s Critters Got a Place in the Choir.” It means paying attention to Climate Change and so many other things. This dance means we see all of life and all of creation as holy and if that doesn’t change us, I don’t know what will.

The dance of relationship also changes how we look at one another. It means we have to dig deep down and rout out all the places where fear and prejudice and bias cause us to see others as “less than.” All the “isms” that separate us, all the judgements we pass on one another, all the socially constructed definitions of what is acceptable and what is not, need to go. All we need to know is that all people are created in the image of the divine. It is only through relationship that we look beyond what is presented to see the face of the holy within another.

God’s eternal love affair with humanity is nothing more and nothing less than an invitation to completeness. The dance doesn’t change God, it changes us–little by little, day by day from today until the day we draw our last breath. It is the most glorious and humbling dance we can do. And the best news of all is that it has nothing to do with being perfect. Put on your dancing shoes, the Divine awaits your entering the music that grounds the essence of life.     

When the word cancer is used in the same sentence as your name or the name of someone you love, it feels like you have purchased a one-way ticket to the land of the hopelessly screwed. It takes some doing to get your brain and being around the news. As the word spreads there are those who tell the story of their second cousin three times removed who had exactly the same thing. There are those who give you the pity-puppy-dog-eyes. Then there are those who assure that they “know just how we feel.” It’s all well-meaning and utterly unhelpful. All their efforts belong to the world of “after.”

After is what happens when you can’t “unknow” what you now know. After is the forever gone delusion of the end being “out there” somewhere on the more distant horizon. After is the Big Worry that goes with all the smaller worries that are part of a devastating and frightening diagnosis. After is everything that happens after you know.

I know this because Jean was recently diagnosed with cancer. Yes, her prognosis is excellent. Yes, she is in the best hands in the world, medically.

Still, I want before. Before is the time when we had the luxury of not thinking our worst thoughts and indulging our worst fears. Before is the time when we knew in a cognitive way that we are mortal but didn’t think about it much more than that. Before is the time when there was no feeling we had purchased a one way trip to the land of the hopelessly screwed.

I want before. I want the innocence and carefree moments that will never be again. Our lives are forever changed because from now on there will be scans and poking and prodding and bloodwork and doctor visits and all the things necessary to assure the disease has not returned.

As I was mulling all this over in the anxious and scared parts of my being, and as we talked about it and sometimes around it, it occurred to both of us that while everything has changed, nothing has changed.

We still practice the spiritual discipline of being present to the moment. We still trust in the Presence to guide us from where we are to whatever comes next. We still trust this is enough. It is the spiritual discipline of a lifetime to be truly present to the moment. The more we practice it, the less fear and anxiety rent space in our being.

Being present to the moment, even if the moment happens to suck, holds the promise of seeing the sacred in the midst of the fearful, the holy in the midst of the uncertain. It reinforces what I know in my bones; all we have is the present moment. It is the gateway to the peace that passes all understanding.

This peace is pure grace. It is not something we can will. It is not something we can wish for. It is not a fruit of believing all the “right” things or being “good enough.” It is simply a gift that comes when we live fully into the moment, no matter what the moment holds. It is a gift that comes when we hold on to the promise that we are ultimately in Good Hands. It is believing it will be okay, no matter how it turns out. I am not always in that head/heart space. When I am not, it is because I have allowed my fears and anxieties to run into the unknown and it is crazy making. But at the end of the day, I believe our lives are held by grace, that God is faithful because God can be nothing else, and that the bonds of unshakeable Holy love are the foundation on which all of life is built.

This has been true since time immortal. It is all the “before” I need.

A favorite old hymn to share:

Great is thy faithfulness,

God my Creator.

There is no shadow of turning with thee.

Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not,

As thou hast been, thou forever wilt be.

Great is thy faithfulness, great is thy faithfulness

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed thy hand has provided,

Great is thy faithfulness,

Lord unto me.

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