Outside the Box of Sanity

This is an obvious turn from my discussion about a Men's Retreat.  What brought this topic to my thinking was an episode of 20/20 last week. It followed the lives of three families whose daughters suffered from the dreadful disease of schizophrenia.

The outward manifestation of this disease is truly horrible and a loving parent's worst nightmare.  You can see how hard they fought against the disease, hospitalization after hospitalization, piles of drugs . . .and still, the demons could not be slayed or even tamed.

I can also see why many more conservative (and uninformed) evangelicals would assume that these really are demons and what the child really needs is an exorcist. If only it could be that simple.  But it does beg the question of why would God allow such a horrible condition on such an innocent child?

Of course it must come back to the fall. We are full of imperfections and some of those are in the genetic fabric of the brain. While some of the mutations may result in things like, personality disorders, higher or lower intelligence, seizures, tendency towards depression . . . or schizophrenia.  The child is an innocent victim as well as the whole family. One little girl had attempted to kill her normal sister . . . yet she loves that sister. It is a nightmare. Those families were exhausted and had done every thing they humanly could do to stop it. Some of the marriages were coming apart at the seams because the mom and dad were physically spent.  These people were heroes in my book.

I've seen schizophrenia play out in an evangelical church setting three times that I can think of. Once in Marquette, Michigan and twice in my previous church on our island.  In all three cases I had an court-side seat because I was an elder.  In all three cases, the response of the leadership was the same . . . demons.  The last time I was involved with a schizophrenic in the Christian setting was in my previous church.  A man went nuts in the service and began screaming profanities.  The only one other person recognized it as schizophrenia and that was a friend who was paramedic.  Everyone wants the simplistic answer of casting out the demons and seeing the person become totally normal in an instance.  I also see this as part of the problem of dualism. When you believe that the only important realm is the spiritual, then someone screaming profanities in the middle of a church service must be a spiritual problem . . . it can't be a brain problem . . . or can it?

I want to move the discussion to the more typical experience of most Christians.

Mental illness of course can come in a variety of unrelated forms.  Most of us, or maybe all of us, suffer from some form of mental illness at times.  The severity of these illnesses vary along a spectrum as well.  On one end they are very much under our control. In the middle of the spectrum it is still possible to treat the mental illness with behavior and cognitive work and/or medications but, as you approach the bad end, the mental illness falls more and more outside the box of our control.  Those who end up there are typically abandoned by the Church because the Church likes to make the assumption that all of our behavior, like screaming profanities at invisible monsters in the middle of the church service, is a moral problem . . . personal sin of some sorts. Seeing the victim as an innocent sufferer doesn't fit in our paradigm. But it should if we really understood the consequences of the fall. So, in some mental heath issues, we are on the back of a wild horse but we do have the reins in our hands and can exert some influence on the course of the runaway.  However, in some disorders you have one foot in the stirrup and are being dragged with virtually no control. The little girls in the 20/20 story, as well as their families, are being dragged . . . almost to an emotional oblivion.

I will make this a bit personal.  In my life I have a moderate level of anxiety which is garden variety.  In that situation I'm in the saddle and the reins are in my hands and I can take actions, re-frame thoughts, pray and over time see a difference.

I also had one bout of clinical depression which started when we had a missionary experience failure (about 21 years ago) and it lasted three years. While in the beginning I was being dragged, I eventually was able to get back in the saddle and wrestle the beast . . . not quite into submission but to a fragile control.

However, I also went through an experience 15 years ago that was very traumatic.  I don't want to talk about the specifics here but just as an observer. The best way you could describe it--in mental health terms--was PTSD.  Now, the good news it that I'm much better now with some echos of worsening anxiety every since.

But here is my point. I was overwhelmed at the time with the new notion that what was happening in my brain, in response to the trauma, was completely out of my control. I had one foot in the stirrup and was being dragged through hell.  I fought the horrible and extreme anxiety (constant terror) with all my heart. I honestly, for the first time in my life, prayed without ceasing.  I had continuing flashbacks and intrusive thoughts which I had absolutely no control over. I felt totally mentally ill. Each time a flash of the memory came into my mind it was a terrible and very real jolt as if I had been hit with a cattle prod. This happened very 2-3 minutes all day long, and all night (with no sleep for days).  I am a very rational person and not a big believer in tissue paper miracles or demons behind each bush, but I was begging for the demons to removed from me and that's how scared I was. It was a 1-2 year nightmare . . . then slowly the majority of the symptoms improved. But I've never been the same. Something concrete changed in my brain . . . I assume, forever.

So, I'm reflecting on the intrusive mental illnesses and how we as Christians view them.  I know that when my body was "possessed" by the extreme . . . I guess I would call it constant terror . . . it was in control and I had none.

But how do we as Christians handle this in others?  In my old evangelical paradigm, we always made the sufferer responsible. That made sense to us. We were good and strong Christians because of our hard work and obedience to God. Those who heard voices . . . well they must have done something terribly wrong, or, because they are weak (morally) they were possessed by demons.

I just think what what would happen if anyone of those families on 20/20 attended one of our churches?  Now, I know that there churches and Christian people who would accept them, love them, and not see the parents as failures of the James Dobson School of Perfect Parenting, but giants and heroes.  I know that there are good Christian people out there who would take the healthy sisters for the weekend to give them a break from the chaos, and some brave ones who would even take the schizophrenic child for a week so the parents could come up for air.

But I remember sitting in a elder's board meeting at my church in Marquette after a different man with a thought disorder yelled out profanities in the previous Sunday's morning worship.  One of the members, a surgeon who should of known better, said the most ridiculous thing.  "I have a bad feeling about Jack (the screamer).  There's a dark spirit about him and I sense something satanic."

Observations from a Men's Retreat Part II

This first issue is where I think I stood alone in the men's group the most. It is regarding the belief that the predominate way that we know that God is there and how he directs us day to day is via tissue paper miracles.  What I mean by tissue paper is that they are so very frail that any rational, outside observer would instantly see that it is just wishful thinking.

During the men's retreat we had several testimonies.  In practically everyone, the almighty God who created the 14 billion light light diameter universe proved that he was there through things like a homeless man being on the street begging, then two hours later he wasn't there, proving he was an angel.  Sometimes it is a rainbow that intersects with a tree that had two long limbs at the top, making it look vaguely like a cross.  But most of the tissue paper miracles had to do with the autonomic nervous, endocrine or limbic systems.  Over and over I hear that God spoke to someone very loudly and clearly because they felt this warmth in their bellies, or euphoria or a chill that goes up their spines.  The great problem I have with this is that I've heard the same type of testimonies from Muslims, Buddhists, various cults have the most profound experiences plus many other types of people including schizophrenics to say the least.

So, in these situations, when I hear someone saying that God spoke to them in a profound way through a strange odor that they smelled in the woods . . . and they just knew it was the very personal smell of God (actually heard this at the men's retreat) and based on that smell they made a major decision in their lives, I am profoundly skeptical.  But every single time I raise questions about it, I am looked at like I really am Judas . . . the great betrayer of the faith.  Denise always gets frustrated when I question these miracles and she asks me, "Who are you to judge?"

But this is where I say that I'm more fundamental than the most severe fundamentalist.  I believe that we should stick to the Bible much more than we do.  How does this apply in this situation, where most evangelicals would see me as less Biblical?  It is because the miracles, attested to in scripture were NOT on tissue paper (or burnt toast). They were seas dividing in two, or a person blind from birth seeing, or someone dead coming a live, or someone speaking a language fluently who had never, ever studied it or even have used Rosetta Stone.

Also, I am more of a fundamentalist because I don't see in scripture the mandate that we should completely trust those funny feelings, or the shady things we see floating softly behind the holes in the fabric of reality.  Where people bend spoons with their minds, or a breeze is felt on the neck in a darken house, or the ray of the sun shines through the clouds forming a Chi Ro symbol . . . so you completely change the religion of an empire. I see scripture telling us that we can't trust our senses. Our hearts (or psyches) are more deceitful than anything else in the universe and can not be trusted at all.

I still give the men's retreat a 70%, but of the 30% that I criticize, this area was where I stand the most alone.

To question these things as being God's celestial cell phone calling us, is to offend almost every Christian. Whom am I to question that God spoke to them through their goldfish's moving lips?  Who am I to question the healings of their colds, four days in, but just before they went to the Christian concert?

An Observation from a Men's Retreat

I am often accused of being an Eeyore . . . you know, looking at the negative side.  Maybe I am, but, there is so much negative within the Evangelical movement there is certainly a lot to not be happy about. Secondly, those who accuse me of being an Eeyore are usually Evangelicals and it is part of that subculture that you are never to be negative (or critical).  That's why I think they are so vulnerable to getting things wrong . . . the lack of critical thinking. I call it the Pollyanna syndrome. I actually watched about 30 minutes of Pollyanna on the Hallmark channel (where else) a few weeks ago. After watching her as a kid, she was presented as a heroine to emulate.  Now, she (the character of course not Halley Mills) appears to be a bit emotionally unstable.

But with that said, as I look at my men's retreat, I will put some angel wings on my Eeyore.  Over all, I will say that the men's retreat was 70% positive.  It was better than I had feared but there were still issues I will talk about later.

This men's retreat was different than many of the ones I've attended in the past due to one major issues and that was a higher appreciation of the intellect.  In this group of 25 men, I think there were three PhD s, one MD, and ten with masters degrees. Of the remaining ones, four were engineers.  Now I know this sounds arrogant and high brow but that is not the way I mean it.  It has more to do with attitude than raw IQ or level of education.

One of the brightest people I know is my friend . . . (did I say "friend"?) . . . Bob.  Bob is a good friend (which I forgot in my last post about not having any friends) but he lives in Italy for 8 months out of the year and I don't get to see him. But Bob doesn't have any advanced degrees.  He spent his life as a fisherman.  But, he has a very high value on knowledge and reads nonstop. He also speaks four languages fluently and knows much about a wide range of topics from current ideals about behavioral science to sub-atomic physics and etc. Bob is also a Christian and the only other man on my island that I can have the same conversations as I do here (save my own kids).

This is in contrast to the last group of men I was in Bible study with (at my old church) where the men believed that Satan's great tool in our society was the university.  They, like I use to do, avoided all "non Christian" books. They believe all scientists are in some grand conspiracy to make our babies atheists. Their scientific knowledge comes from the likes of Ken Ham and other pastors who are self-proclaimed science experts. Their psychological understanding comes from people like Bill Gothard and Dr. Laura.

I will also say that there was a higher level of candidness at this men's retreat than I expected.  I will confess that I didn't just sit in silence but pushed the envelop of honesty by questioning, out loud, things that seemed to be disingenuous. Lastly, I think I got to know many of the men much better and that was my real goal.

Now Eeyore takes off his wings and halo.

There is still part of the men's retreat that disturbs me and a piece of that uneasiness has to do with the profound conformity of the perspectives of the American brand of evangelicalism.  What I mean is, here I am in a church that is far different than my last church, yet I hear the same cliches, the same (extra-Biblical) views on all matters of life.  It is surprisingly homogeneous.

Having had the opportunity to live and travel around the world, I see the exact same views (and once again, this has nothing to do with the simple, black and white of scripture, but a cultural belief system) wherever the Christians have the fingerprints of American Evangelicals on them. For example, I saw the same in a French, Dutch, Pakistani and Egypt evangelical church congregations . . . which were planted by Americans after the Second Great Awakening. Those churches in those countries, which do not have American roots, do not share the views. I make that latter point (about being after the Second Great Awakening) because I did visit an old Presbyterian congregation in Egypt which has its roots in the American Presbyterian Church prior to the Methodist circuit riders and Scofield Bible toting pastors took over the pulpits of America, creating this modern culture of Evangelicalism.  That church too did not share these same political belief systems.

Then, without question, those church traditions which never shared a common trunk with American Evangelicalism had profound differences in these cultural views. Here I'm talking about Palestinian Orthodox (whom I stayed with briefly), Egyptian Coptic and of course Catholics. But if the Catholics have had revival, which started in Evangelicalism, then of course these cultural beliefs do creep in.

I'm going to next express my concerns about this cultural issue and then, if I have time . . . meaning that I'm not feeling like I'm boring you to death . . . I will describe what those beliefs are. But simply the problem I have with the Evangelical cultural beliefs is that they do not recognize them as a product of culture.  The Evangelicals build their wall of universal, Biblical truth, outside these cultural beliefs, thus enclosing them and making them equal with true Biblical truths such as God is there, and He created the universe. That's the real problem.

If, in humility, they recognized that their view that Israel (the nation) was created by God in 1948 to usher in the last days was a cultural belief rather than a clear-cut Biblical mandate . . . that would be different. The Palestinian Orthodox have radically different views of the creation of the nation of Israel, not as God's gift to the world but some of the worst part of the curse of the fall. But you have to read these beliefs within their personal experiences.  If we stuck to the pure Biblical truths (which are few and simple) then the churches throughout the world would truly  have a common ground.

So, in one last illustration and I will have to save the specifics of this men's retreat for next time because I see your eyes glossing over, I will point out why this universal evangelical concerns me.

When we first moved to Cairo in 1988 and my tongue was still fine-tuned to the American cuisine, I learned a difficult lesson.  Egypt, at that time (which is very different today as I visited there three years ago) had no variety, especially when it came to nontraditional foods.  I visited the little market about 2 miles from our house and the only cereal they had was Cornflakes. That's it. They didn't even have Oatmeal.  The ONLY soda they had was Pepsi.  They had only one brand of milk sold in a liter box.  So, I started to take the buses to other parts of Cairo to shop.  Every store I went in had the exact same arrangement. One spot on the shelf was set aside for Cornflakes and their one spot for Pepsi.  All the other foods were exactly the same.  Even the Egyptian-made foods were exactly the same in all stores.  This was so profound that when we got back to the states and friends took us to a huge American Supermarket for the first time, Denise literally had an emotional breakdown and we have to leave. The choices were overwhelming. Rather than one chunk of cheese, in the same wrapping in every store, there were 200 choices in cheeses alone.

So, when I go to a men's retreat in a very different church but I hear the same cliches and beliefs (again nothing to do with the Bible, type of beliefs) I feel disappointed.

But in closing this segment, I will restate that it was over all a positive experience and I'm glad I went.

I will do one more posting about those beliefs and attitudes that I wish I could make fluid (I respect you if think Obama is a madman but also respect you if you think he is a saint, knowing that neither view is "God's view" but your own, personal one). But when I attempted to oppose them I could see in the response of some of the men, that I was opposing God Himself. The socialization process is as profound as in middle or high school where there was intense pressure to dink your first beer or loose your virginity.  It is the same social mechanics and I just wished the Evangelicals would recognize that it human nature . . . and not the "Word from the Lord."  That's why, when my the pastor of my old church said that he was "anal" about  making that church Biblical, I knew that he was anal about putting up the walls of God's certainty, around and enclosing his personal views and manipulative behaviors. Who can resist anything, with a clear conscience, if you believe the thing you are resisting is from God.

Men's Retreat

Okay, I know I will eventually ask myself . . . "Self . . . what were you thinking!?"  However, as I set here typing at Starbucks in Bellingham, I'm on my way to a men's retreat.  Actually, if I type long enough I will be late for it.  But I just got off work and I must unwind from a very stressful day before I make an appearance and put on my smile.

Do you sense that I have a great trepidation about this?  

On my drive over from my office I was thinking about it. How long has it been since I've been at a Christian men's retreat?  I think the last one was one I organized.  It was a series of men's retreats that I put together in Michigan's snowy upper peninsula. The first two years were a blast. About 16 of men skied for about 10 miles to a remote cabin for two nights.  The first year was just for fun. The second year (after getting to know the men a bit better) I decided to take it to the next level.  On the second night of that week end, around the fire, I took our conversation down from the 3-4th stories (of pretend) down to the ground floor . . . speaking very honestly.  The next year, only four of the guys showed up.  As soon as we skied in and three of them recognized that they would be imprisoned (by a impending blizzard) with me for the week end, they packed up their stuff and skied back out. After all, I was the one who got them to talk about porn and marital issues the last time we were there.  The retreat died after that and I'm sure it died because I was so candid that second year.  I think I was naive 15 years ago when this happened. All of those men were very spiritual and leaders in the church.  I had assumed that they would all want to talk openly about problems in our marriages and such personal issues . . .but I was dead wrong.

The next time I was with a group of men was ten years ago.  It was under a very different pretense. It was simply a bunch of crazy snowmobile guys, who happened to go to the same church, who invited me for trip to Yellowstone. They gave me a 4-hour notice for a 24 hour drive.  I went. We didn't talk about so-called spiritual things at all.  It was a blast! I would love to do something like that again.

But this is different. This is clearly billed as a "Christian Men's Retreat."  It is sponsored by my new church. While my new church has such a cross section that you can find all types among the congregation (even those more "liberal" than myself), there are still plenty of evangelicals. Actually, at this point of time in history, in the US, the Evangelicals have somewhat written the playbook for how men suppose to relate in a "spiritual" context, especially at a men's retreat.  I know the script well.  I'm sure I've attended at least 40 men's retreats during my discipleship years.

Why am I going?  I'm going because I really don't know how I could be more friend-less than I am right now. So, I'm doing it to try and create some friendships with men in my new church. Sure, I have the people that I work with as friends. I actually do see the majority of my 2,000 patients as friends.  I feel close to my children and my wife. But that's it. Zipo . . . there's no one else. 

I had a group of men friends, but when I left my evangelical church, I had to give them all up . . . not by my choice. Actually, one of them still speaks to me. But it is hard for us to do things together anymore because I know he seriously opposes my decision to leave his church and he has voiced how angry he was at me, until he was able to forgive me.  But it is awkward. You know, me the bad guy, the fallen away, the one who sinned against his church . . . by having the audacity to leave. 

So what do I fear?  Thinking of the answer is not easy. Even once I have a mental handle on it, it is still hard to churn the fluid thoughts into chunky words.  But here goes.

I fear a moral dilemma.  I have my heart set on telling the truth.  I  feel strongly this way because I want to be truthful for my own psyche's sake and because I do believe that we serve a God of truth and that He wants us to live in true reality.  For 25 years, I went to Men's retreats when I knew that it would all be a show. Each one of us would find humble verbiage to express our great accomplishments.  "I am so grateful to the Lord for how he has used me, a simple earthen vessel, to bring the gospel to this area of town."  It is a charade. 

So, I think . . . how do I bare the spiritual talk?  I am committed to not lying anymore. I will not claim miracles where I know in my heart there were none. I will not speak of how God has said such and such to me. So, in my usual form, I will sit silently . . . until inevitability some man will start to assume that I "don't know Jesus."  I hate so much to be in those situations. Either lie, and fake it for Jesus, like the rest are doing, or be yourself and have the assumptions that you don't know Jesus.  

Having talked to my wife, it appears that women's retreats aren't like this.

Well, I've looked at the clock and if I leave now, I will arrive just as it starts. But in the back of my mind I hope to corner some man who I can talk to quietly and find a shared interest. Kayaking, hiking, rock climbing . . . something that we could do together . . . just for fun. Sure, I would love to talk about spiritual things, but like I do here . . . very raw and in complete candor.  Maybe by Sunday, I will be happy I went . . .  maybe I will prove my anxieties as superfluous. 

Manuscript Link Fixed . . . I Think

It was brought to my attention that the manuscript link, to the right, was broken. I think I've fixed it . . . hint.

A Party in the House

Have you ever had a huge crowd of unexpected guests show up at your house?

Yesterday morning, I got up and happened to check my blog site. Something mysterious was going on. My typical daily visits of 60-70 was well over a thousand . . . and I hadn't even had my morning coffee yet. It didn't take me long to trace the bread crumbs back to Imonk's house.

I'm glad they showed up and walked though my house, picking up stuff and looking at it. However, I do feel a little embarrassed as I hadn't cleaned or put out any food.

I went back over my spiritual abuse story and proofed it for the first time last night. I usually typed each section with one hand on a micro laptop (not much bigger than a smart phone) while standing in line at Starbucks on my way to work. But the guests have now mostly left and it is too late to clean house now, or to retype my stories.

I was hoping one of them would have stumbled onto my book manuscript and given me some ideas, but that link apparently doesn't work either.

But it was nice to have guest anyway. Thanks Mike.

Life Without Purpose . . . Possibly a Good Thing?

I spent the past week end hanging out with a bunch (maybe 200) of 20-30 year olds who would be classified (sociologically) as "Hipsters." Now the reason I was with them, wasn't some old man trying to reconnect with his lost youth, but the fact it was a music festival and one of my sons was playing in two different bands.

As I watched the people, listened to them talk, and listened to the lyrics I had an overwhelming feeling that they had no specific purpose in life and would find it amusing that I would mention that fact. Now the old Evangelical Mike would feel sad for them at this point. But the new (but old) mike sees it two ways.

There is a bit of loss that I must grieve. Just like any post-modern society, you feel a loss when people don't have a purpose because they simply have given up. Many of them feel that there is no way we can understand why we are here, so why bother trying. It is the loss of hope and and it is a kind of despair that we should cry about.

But there are also lessons to be learned from them.

I spent a good 25 years deep in the Evangelical movement. During the first 15 years I was in a hard-core discipleship center and we held the following beliefs:

1) God's only purpose of this planet is a place where people can be saved for Heaven.

2) God's only purpose for the church is the Great Commission.

3) God's only purpose for the individual is to find that very precise place in the machinery of the Great Commission where they fit. Actually where they were designed for. We believed that we were predestined to fulfill a very specific place.

During my formative years as a disciple, my number one commission (as I was taught) was to find out what my "calling" was. I eventually became 100% convinced that God had created me, allowed me to be born on this earth with a singularity of purpose . . . to win Muslims to Christ.

I became convinced of this through a chain of several superstitious events. First, I signed up to go to Nepal on a summer missions program (in 1982) but was reassigned to go to Oman. I went. I fell in love with the people, the culture and my wife who was there as well.

As I was putting the pieces together, I remembered a couple other things, which were early in my life, that were proof that God wanted me to give the rest of my life for this purpose. First, the one "love-a-bye" that my mother first sung to me (when I was two and still remember it well) was about riding a camel. Secondly, when I was a child, we had a tapestry in our living room of a caravan stopping at an oasis. That was the only proof I needed. From the day I was born, God had only one purpose for my existence.

So, jumping ahead, one of the reasons that my failure on the mission field in the Middle East was so devastating, was the fact that my entire identity and purpose for living had been tied up in it. I think it is the same reason that a good friend of mine, out of the same discipleship center, has become catatonic now that he has "failed" as a missionary to China. He has sat in a same chair for the past three years, since returning.

But now Solomon is my hero. I follow his seeking to find his purpose in so many things. He finally reaches the conclusion that the good things of life aren't fitting like a key in a very finely tooled lock or cog in well oiled (and predestined) machine. But Solomon (remember the wises person that ever lived) concludes, or begs the question, that sipping coffee down at the coffee shop and having a conversation about boats, or wearing your Walkman and laying on a hammock and listening to good music, or sitting in a hot tub drinking a beer and looking up a the blue sky is the substances of a good life. Are these the things that we were made for? Possibly. So the Hipsters have part of it right, even if the reason they got to this point was their loss of hope and the possibly of knowing why about anything.