Showing posts with label UUA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UUA. Show all posts

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Spiritually Speaking: Let Go and Liberate


Edwin Friedman was a rabbi and family therapist who became one of the foundational leadership consultants in the 20th century.  His primary work, Generation to Generation, detailed how communities behave according to generational patterns.  Much of his theory about communities was based on the family system.  Friedman believed that unhealthy or toxic systems could be transformed, in part, by self-differentiated leaders.  For Friedman, self-differentiation meant the ability to separate yourself from your environment, to have clarity in that separation that allowed you to reflect and see patterns, and to be able to engage conflict and risk while maintaining emotional regulation.  In some ways, Friedman’s work is so integrated into our understandings of communities that we use his theory without noticing it.  Leaders now might talk about the diagnosed patient in a system (the person who is essentially healthy and functions as a scapegoat) or how communities can be conflict-avoidant and enabling of toxic patterns.

Anyone who has ever gone through therapy after growing up in a family with toxic patterns of behavior can testify to the challenging work of becoming self-differentiated.  It certainly does not happen overnight, and often, requires on-going therapy and check-ins.  The human mind, especially under stress, reverts to old patterns of behavior easily.  Even when these patterns hurt ourselves and others, familiarity will often win in the face of stress and chaos. 

Friedman utilized a lot of parables in his work to help illustrate how to better self-differentiate.  One of my favorite parables is the rope story:

There once was a woman standing at the opening of a bridge.  She had a rope tied around her waist.  She held one end of the rope in her hand.  As a man approached her she shouted to him, “here, here, hold this.”  The man took the rope.  Suddenly the woman jumped off the bridge.  The man strained against the edge of the bridge holding onto the rope with great effort.  He started to shout for help.  The woman shouted from                  below the bridge, “Don’t let go of the rope!  I’ll die if you let go of the rope!  You are saving my life.” 

Friedman asks, “so what should the man do?”

Often, people will answer that the man should absolutely hold on to the rope.  Friedman asks further questions.  For how long?  Under what conditions?  Why did the woman hand him the road?  Can he really save her?  What if he can’t hold on?

The moral of the story emerges with each follow up question.  Don’t hold a rope that isn’t yours to hold. 

It sounds almost harsh to some ears, but Friedman would claim that it is self-differentiation. 

Certainly liberation is about fighting against forces far beyond our control.  Liberation is also about struggling against the mirror of those forces within ourselves.  Sometimes we are the one passing the rope and sometimes we are the one holding the rope.   Part of liberation, a powerful part, comes when we move beyond shame for our particular actions and begin to see the rope and what it tethers.  Seeing the rope is the first step of a self account that at least allows us to consciously choose to take the rope, to throw it or to put it down.  When we put it down, we get to decide what to do with that new rush of energy and opportunity.

As we join in deepening our spiritual understandings of liberation in our lives together this month, I encourage each of us to look for the ties that bind.

What would it be to let go? 

With faith and love,

Rev. Robin

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Spiritually Speaking: Being the Love People


From yellow T-shirts to banners, we’ve become known as the love people. Amidst the recent work of branding in the Unitarian Universalist Association (see new UUA chalice below), the Standing on the Side of Love campaign seems to be our most enduring recognition thus far. When we show up at demonstrations and witnesses or interfaith services with those bold yellow colors and LOVE written across our chests, invariably someone will say something akin to, “The love people are here!”
Among all the things we could be recognized for- this isn’t a bad one to be known for at all.
But what does it mean to be the love people?
Love as a spiritual value calls us to the edges of our comfort and the core of our being. It asks if we can act with an abiding integrity to treat people with worth and dignity even in the midst of extraordinary circumstance.
Love as a justice imperative calls us to the caverns of silence where humanity must be heard and then change spoken into being. Then love asks if we will not make enemies in the struggle but move toward the flow of justice.
Love is far from the easy work of cards and spoken words, but as a foundation for a people must be animated through action. Far from a neat to-do lis t of religious virtue, being the love people is as much an internal movement as an external one. In truth, even the most ideal actions can be done without love- the evidence is not found only in our completed actions but how doing better can make us better.
To be the love people calls us from ourselves out into the world. Far from an internalized spiritual movement, it is one built upon relationship. As we look at the major shifts in our world, it seems that relationship may very well be the crux of our survival. From climate change, multiculturalism, financial shifts and the realities of technological isolation, we will need to depend upon relationship to restore the balance and heal our world. Silo living will no longer be possible.
We as the love people are not the only key to the future. The world is a big place with many needs. But it may just be that we are a far more critical piece than we’ve been willing to admit—one that is far from the fluffy stuff of cards and words, but a piece that moves us from our core to the community.
Let us stand then, or rather move, toward the side of love.
In faith and love,
Rev. Robin