Surviving Our Troubles: “Solution Talk”
One day when Jesus was in Jerusalem for one of the Jewish feasts, he took a side trip to the pool of Bethesda -- a pool that purportedly had healing powers. (Tradition said that on occasion an angel would stir the waters and the first one in the water after that stirring would be healed.) As a result of the pool’s reputation and its covered colonnades, it became a gathering place for a “great number of disabled people -- the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed.”
One of the pool’s patrons was a man who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. Standing over the cripple, Jesus asked him: “Do you want to get well?” Jesus’ question -- which deserved a hearty: “Of course!” -- was answered with a weak complaint: “Sir, I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” This man, who was broken in body and in soul, kept returning to the pool out of habit, not out of hope.
Why did Jesus ask such an obvious question? Because not everyone wants to get well. As I was recently waiting in a doctor’s office, I overheard two women try to top each other’s stories from their medical history -- “Well, I had surgery one time and had to stay in the hospital for 3 months!” I could tell that they both relished telling their painful stories. But were they interested in getting well? I’m not sure.
Why don’t sick people want to get well? Because solving problems is hard work. It is easier to whimper over your friend’s rejection than to forgive her and seek reconciliation. It is easier to moan about your fatigue than to develop an exercise program that will restore your energy. It is easier to commiserate with the complainers than to enlist with the committed. It is easier to discard a dying marriage than to learn how to love again. It is easier to stay depressed than to change the thought patterns that feed your sadness. It is easier to criticize the ministries of your church than to join one of those ministries and try to make a difference.
Psychologist and author Mary Pypher’s counseling philosophy is based on “solution talk” rather than “problem talk.” The person who wants to get well is the person who fixes his eyes on solutions: “Lord how should I view this situation differently? What actions can I take to begin solving this problem? Don't let me merely fuss or fret. Show me how to survive this ordeal.”
2006/05/21
2006/05/04
Stepford Wives
Claire (played by Glenn Close) was a brilliant scientist who murdered her husband and his girlfriend when she caught them in bed together. Horrified by the ugliness of her deed and the world around her, she asked: “What could I do to make the world more beautiful?” Her answer was to turn her dead husband into a robot who then recruited other men who wanted “perfect” wives. Claire believed most women were “over-stressed, over-booked and under-loved” and wanted a “better world where men are men and women are loved and cherished.”
Who wouldn’t want a little less chaos in their world? a trouble-free marriage? a safe world for children? an end to drunken drivers? Claire’s husband, Mike, explained to Joanna (Nicole Kidman) and her husband, Walter (Matthew Broderick) the benefits of scientific engineering: “If you could streamline your partner, if you could overhaul every annoying habit and every physical flaw, every moment of whining and nagging and farting in bed, just imagine being able to enjoy your mate only at their best.” Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?
But what kind of world would that be? If Stepford is any indication, it is not an appealing world. When Walter was tempted by the appeal of the perfect wife, Joanna asked him: “Is this what you really want? women who behave like slaves?” And then she asked: “These machines, these Stepford wives, can they say “I love you”? When informed that they could say it in 58 languages, Joanna, with pleading eyes, asked Walter: “But do they mean it?” She then planted a passionate kiss on her husband’s lips.
Walter ultimately chose to give his wife her freedom -- believing that a free, though imperfect love, was far-superior to the counterfeit, coerced love of a computer-chip wife.
God had a similar choice to make. He could have created a “Stepford” world where there are no victims or violence, arguing or apathy, criticism or coldness. Instead, He created a world where the pots can complain to the potter, where “the sculptures can spit at the sculptor.” Like Walter, God didn’t want robotic perfection.
William Thompson imagined the questions God pondered while creating us: “What if I veil My Divinity so that the creatures [won’t be] overwhelmed by My overpowering Presence? Will the creatures love Me? Can I be loved by creatures I have not programmed to adore me forever? Can love arise out of freedom?” God, like Walter, took the risk of freedom. He knew that force would never produce love. Our God delights in the passionate embrace of free human beings.
Who wouldn’t want a little less chaos in their world? a trouble-free marriage? a safe world for children? an end to drunken drivers? Claire’s husband, Mike, explained to Joanna (Nicole Kidman) and her husband, Walter (Matthew Broderick) the benefits of scientific engineering: “If you could streamline your partner, if you could overhaul every annoying habit and every physical flaw, every moment of whining and nagging and farting in bed, just imagine being able to enjoy your mate only at their best.” Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?
But what kind of world would that be? If Stepford is any indication, it is not an appealing world. When Walter was tempted by the appeal of the perfect wife, Joanna asked him: “Is this what you really want? women who behave like slaves?” And then she asked: “These machines, these Stepford wives, can they say “I love you”? When informed that they could say it in 58 languages, Joanna, with pleading eyes, asked Walter: “But do they mean it?” She then planted a passionate kiss on her husband’s lips.
Walter ultimately chose to give his wife her freedom -- believing that a free, though imperfect love, was far-superior to the counterfeit, coerced love of a computer-chip wife.
God had a similar choice to make. He could have created a “Stepford” world where there are no victims or violence, arguing or apathy, criticism or coldness. Instead, He created a world where the pots can complain to the potter, where “the sculptures can spit at the sculptor.” Like Walter, God didn’t want robotic perfection.
William Thompson imagined the questions God pondered while creating us: “What if I veil My Divinity so that the creatures [won’t be] overwhelmed by My overpowering Presence? Will the creatures love Me? Can I be loved by creatures I have not programmed to adore me forever? Can love arise out of freedom?” God, like Walter, took the risk of freedom. He knew that force would never produce love. Our God delights in the passionate embrace of free human beings.
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