Bible Musings

Foundational Ideas for Merging CPM Principles with Emotional Healing

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This document was developed for CPM (church planting movement) practitioners in Cambodia. It is my great hope that this article, when combined with Adding What’s Missing, will encourage and enable practitioners in Cambodia and beyond to care about the hearts of people in a new and whole way. It is a work in progress, of course, and I am acutely aware of my limited cultural knowledge and expertise, along with my general inexperience in the realm of church planting. However, these articles are not written from my head, lacking outside input. They form the synthesis of countless meetings, counseling sessions, observations, discussions, and prayers, both here in Cambodia and abroad. As a work in progress, any suggested edits/additions are more than welcome.

May the Bride of Christ in Cambodia grow explosively and mature deeply, in every single village.

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You can’t be spiritually mature while remaining emotionally immature. — Peter Scazzero

Emotional damage from our past affects how we view ourselves, how we respond to others, how we treat others, how we respond to others who touch our pain, and how we view God. It is important that we resolve the emotional areas of pain so that our present relationships will not be negatively affected. Unresolved emotional damage causes us to build walls to protect our heart from further hurt. We do not allow others to get too close lest they hurt us like we have been damaged in the past. Neither can we give love if we have been too emotionally damaged. — John Regier

“Teacher, which is the most important commandment in the law of Moses?” Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.” — Matthew 22:36-40

 

Jesus spoke to the core of people, to their hearts. He connected with the hearts of his audience, and that was relieving for some and threatening for others. He cared about actions, of course, but primarily because actions spring from the heart.

The heart is where we store our pain. We’re also told to love God with our whole hearts, and people too. The trouble is, in order to love God (or people) from our hearts, we have to spend some time down in our own hearts, and that can be scary, especially if we’ve buried and stored a lot of pain down in there.

Our hearts are where we store our pain AND it’s where we experience joy and the deepest form of healing. Jesus doesn’t want us to paint a thin veneer over our hearts, saying “It’s all in the past and I’m pressing on now!” In reality, that’s often just fake, and it’s a way to NOT deal with our deep pain. Like a wound, if you just cover it up with a bandage and say it’s all better, you might feel better for a bit, and others might think you’re fine, but the wound is still there. And it will probably get worse. It needs to be gently exposed and treated.

The great news is that Jesus is the great Healer. He can take care of our pain, our past hurts. He can handle it all, and in fact he wants to. He doesn’t want us living with bitterness and fear and anger and pain.

 

Practically Speaking

Keep in mind, always, that the most important thing required to help someone connect with their own heart is that YOU are connected to YOURS.

Even if people don’t have the words to describe it, they know if you’re just talking from your head. They know if it’s just your mind conveying information. And they can tell when it shifts and you’re speaking from your heart.

Before teaching these ideas, it would probably be a good idea for you to pause and ask yourself, “Why am I doing this? Is it important? What if this impacted this disciple? And then their children? Their community and nation? How would Jesus feel about the disciple sitting in front of me? What would his vision be for their life? Would Jesus want to see them connecting to the heart of the Father, experiencing the comfort of the Spirit, and feeling the presence of the Son?”

These questions should help you connect with your own heart. This is not just about teaching content – this is about watching Jesus heal people through the love of the Father, the power of the Holy Spirit and the presence of Jesus.

These ideas are all somewhat esoteric. Here are some visual aids to help convey these truths. These are designed to set the stage for Adding What’s Missing, and I believe they could be taught to Cambodians who could then teach them to others, and so on.

 

BUBBLESbubbles1

The bubbles represent our feelings/emotions. When they reach the surface and pop, we see them as actions. Sometimes, what we see is an angry outburst or a lustful act, or simple crying. We often try to stop the bubbles from surfacing, either because we don’t want others to know, or maybe because our actions when the bubbles pop are wrong. However, just trying to catch them before they get to the surface doesn’t work very well. We need to ask, Where are they coming from?

What causes me to get angry like this?

What causes me to want to sin like this?

What makes me sad and cry like this?

A big goal here is to be brave enough to trace the actions we see (bursting bubbles on the surface) to the feelings/emotions that cause them (the bubbles) to the box (historical event or pain) that produces them.

Of course, it might be as simple as the person’s sin nature. However, I believe that the general brokenness of our world, plus the specific pain (abuse, neglect, etc.) experienced, exacerbates the effects of our sin nature. For example, looking at porn is wrong and stems from a basic lust of the flesh. However, there are emotional and historical components that can’t be ignored. Jesus didn’t just tell people to “stop sinning.” He cared about their stories too. He cared about their hearts.

 

LANDMINESmine_sign

Even if you can’t see a mine, it can still hurt you. Even if it’s been buried and out of sight a long time, it can still injure you and others. God wants to “de-mine” our hearts, healing us, and making that land usable again.

What happens to land that has mines? It’s dangerous. You’re afraid to go there. Other people are afraid to go there. What can the land be used for? What happens when the mines have been removed? It’s good for farming or planting or building a house. It’s good for so much! What would a landowner feel like after being told that his land has been completely cleared of mines? Would his behavior change?

So, what can be done? First, you have to recognize that there is danger there. Are there things you don’t want to talk about because it hurts too much? Are there emotions or feelings that you often begin to feel and then force yourself to stop feeling? Why? Is it because of fear? If so, that’s very normal and understandable. Jesus wants to give you a safe place to go when you are afraid. And he wants to heal the hurting places.

Have you ever heard someone say, “We don’t talk about what’s in the past”? Why do you think they said that? Maybe they were afraid of the pain. Maybe they didn’t want you to talk about it because that would be like stepping on a mine. So, we don’t ever want to force anyone to talk about something they don’t want to talk about. If a person is not ready, if they do not feel safe even with Jesus, that is their decision. It is wrong to try to force a person to remember something that is painful. If they don’t want to talk about it, that is their decision.

Even so, we can teach that when we bury our pain, it’s like we’re burying landmines. We might not be able to see it anymore, but years from now, it could still hurt us or someone we love.

Jesus wants to bring safety. He wants to locate the mines and remove them so we can live free from fear, with hope and a future. If a person does not feel safe enough to “go there,” it might be good to step back and do some teaching on the heart and character and presence of Jesus. His presence is healing, and understanding how he cares about our fear and pain can be transformational.

 

More Resources:

Read part two: Adding What’s Missing: Merging CPM Principles with Emotional Healing.

For a pdf of this document: Foundational Ideas for Merging CPM Principles with Emotional Healing.

For general resources on emotional health.

For a wonderful description of the importance and necessity of the Psalms in the life of the Church.

Paradox and the Hope of Progress

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by Elizabeth

The paths of subatomic particles in a bubble chamber.

The paths of subatomic particles in a bubble chamber. Photo source: CERN

A few months ago I came across the phrase “No paradox, no progress” in a science magazine. The quote was attributed to quantum physicist Niels Bohr and immediately grabbed my attention. (Bohr made breakthroughs in understanding the structure of atoms, among other things.) No paradox, no progress?? This statement is as true of quantum mechanics as it is of life.

The phrase really stuck with me and came to mind as I was writing my last installment in the Parsonage Heresies series at A Life Overseas. I didn’t have space in the article to contemplate this beautiful quote the way I wanted to. And at any rate, I couldn’t remember in which article I had found the words “no paradox, no progress,” so I let the idea go. Until now.

When I went searching for the quote in the Place Where All Lost Quotes Reside (also known as The Internet), I discovered that Bohr’s actual words were more akin to “How wonderful that we have met with a paradox. Now we have some hope of making progress.” I love the sentiment from this scientist: we need to give ourselves permission to embrace paradox.

Paradox, that discomfiting feeling we experience when opposites happen at once. Paradox is living in a place where it smells so bad and smells so good all at the same time. Paradox is feeling hope and despair in the same moment. Sometimes we struggle when we cannot reconcile our contradictory facts and feelings, or, in the arena of theology, reconcile seemingly contradictory Biblical passages.

We Western Christians are not very good at making peace with Paradox, are we? Yet without Paradox, our faith gets stuck. Without Paradox, we cling so tightly to our confusion and our contradictions that we can’t move forward in life.

I’ve found that it’s easier in the end — though definitely not in the beginning — to simply accept the paradox of two seemingly opposing truths than to attempt to force them into one truth and lose my faith. It’s better to accept both the good and bad in life and within myself rather than rationalizing any of it away.  After all, Niels Bohr is also quoted as having said “The opposite of a profound truth is another profound truth.”

Bohr’s kind of thinking has strengthened my love for God (He’s so much bigger than I could imagine!) and enriched my study of the Bible (I don’t have to understand it all!). It’s illuminated my past and enabled me to offer grace more fully to other people. I think the more liturgical among us call Bohr’s motto “Mystery.”

Mystery is holding two truths together lightly in our imperfect, human hands, and releasing the need to have one Perfect Answer. Mystery is the reason I’m troubled by extremist theology. Why is it so hard for us, in a trusting embrace of the Father, to hold two truths at the same time? Why can we not hold both that God is mercy, and that He is justice? Why can we not hold both that God is sovereign, and that we have free will (because He gave it to us)?

This Mystery I speak of, it consoles me.  I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to get it all right. I can still believe. Mystery: it’s such a comfort. And in the words of Laura Hackett Park below, what Mystery can give back to us is a Life Abundant.

 

Now love’s a choice I know it’s true

He never forced my heart to move

But therein lies the mystery

That He reached first in choosing me

He spoke my name the sweetest sound

And to this day I still resound

Now death has lost its hold on me

Now life springs up abundantly

The Church: On Not Being the Casserole Lady

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by Elizabeth

cas

Many a Casserole Lady has cared for me. The Casserole Lady brings food to the hurting, nourishment to the weary, comfort to the downcast. She’s first on your doorstep with home-baked bread and brownies, with meatloaf and soup, and of course, with casseroles galore. She ensures you don’t need to plan and prepare meals when you’re grieving a loss, are freshly postpartum, or find yourself in any other time of need.

I love the Casserole Ladies, but I am not one of them.

Sometimes I think about people with the gift of hospitality and get this gnawing, guilty feeling. Why can’t I be more like them? I wish I could, for hospitality seems like the Real Spiritual Gift. Delivering meals to doorsteps, inviting large groups into your home for meals, hosting people long-term as part of your family — this all sounds so very first century Christian. I sigh and start to think I must not measure up.

But I think my accounting system is off when I calculate this way. Maybe I shouldn’t be tallying things up like this. It shouldn’t be about me, me, me. It shouldn’t be about how valuable or useful my gifts are. We shouldn’t have a “usefulness hierarchy” — that’s a joy-stealer if ever I heard one. Instead, I’ve come to believe that it’s about the love behind my actions. It’s about my offering of love to the Lord’s Beloved, for I speak a language of love to the Church that is no less than those gifted in hospitality.

This idea of speaking a language of love originated in Gary Chapman’s book “The Five Love Languages,” where he specifies these 5 love languages:

Words of Affirmation

Physical Touch

Acts of Service

Gifts

Quality Time

I’ve mostly heard the idea of Love Languages applied to individual relationships, and to marriage in particular. It generally seems to be discussed in the context of getting your own needs met, explaining why you’re disappointed when they aren’t, and of course making sure you meet your spouse’s needs in return. [Note: I’m not saying that’s how it’s discussed in the book. I’m just saying that’s how I’ve usually heard it discussed amongst The People.]

That approach just doesn’t satisfy me anymore. I want to reframe the gifts discussion, and I want to reframe the love language discussion. I want to stop talking about the gifts we receive from God and start talking about the love we offer back to Him. I want to move beyond just determining how I prefer to receive love, and start embracing the way I most wholeheartedly give love.

Some people, like the Casserole Ladies, love through their Acts of Service. (And we’re all grateful for them!)

Some people love through monetary Gifts. (And building funds and charities everywhere are grateful for them, not to mention those of us in support-based ministry who rely on Gifts for our daily bread.)

Some people love through Physical Touch. (And we’re all grateful for the huggers and the greeters and, let’s not forget, the tireless nursery workers and stay-at-home moms.)

Some people love through Quality Time. (And we’re all grateful for the preachers, teachers, and small group leaders who painstakingly prepare lessons week after week, and for those who sit with people, whether sick or well, whether discouraged or not, giving their time to them.)

Obviously this is not an exhaustive treatise on all the ways members of the Body might speak these five different love languages! I just want to ask this question today: How do you speak love, out of an overflow of your own heart, to the Church? Not what you think you should be doing to serve. Not what you see someone else doing. Not what you’ve always done. But, how do you speak love in such a way that brings you joy?

For me, the way I most wholeheartedly give love to the Body of Christ is through Words of Affirmation. I use words with the hope of blessing people, not for my sake, but for theirs. I offer words, and not just in blog posts — though they’re here too. I also pour all my love into emails and private messages, just because I want to, and because it brings me joy. It is through words that I give gladly and love fully.

I take my counsel from Peter, who says “Do you have the gift of speaking? Then speak as though God himself were speaking through you,” and from Paul, who says, “If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging.” I hear their commission to speak and encourage not through the lens of gift or skill or talent, but through the lens of love.

I want the discussion of love languages to be about what we give, for the pure joy of it, and not what we need from others. I want to approach service from the vantage point of love, and not of giftings. Not from a focus on me and what God has given me, but from a focus on offering my love to others. Not in order to pigeonhole myself into speaking only one “language,” but to embrace the way I show love and to give my whole soul to it.

I want our love languages to be an outpouring of love, a breaking open of our alabaster boxes.

 

What is your offering of love to the Church? What Language do you speak to her?

 

Check out Julie Meyer’s song Alabaster Box, in which she talks about pouring out all her love for Jesus.

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And we cannot end without a quote from Henri Nouwen who, in his book The Return of the Prodigal Son, expresses my feelings and experiences so well:

“When I first saw Rembrandt’s painting, I was not as familiar with the home of God within me as I am now. Nevertheless, my intense response to the father’s embrace of his son told me that I was desperately searching for that inner place where I too could be held as safely as the young man in the painting. . . .

I have a new vocation now. It is the vocation to speak and write from that place back into the many places of my own and other people’s restless lives. I have to kneel before the Father, put my ear against his chest and listen, without interruption, to the heartbeat of God. Then, and only then, can I say carefully and very gently what I hear.

I know now that I have to speak from eternity into time, from the lasting joy into the passing realities of our short existence in this world, from the house of love into the houses of fear, from God’s abode into the dwellings of human beings. I am well aware of the enormity of this vocation. Still, I am confident that it is the only way for me.”

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Other posts in The Church series:

Hungry for Community

“Me too” Moments

Dear American Church

I am a Worshipper

Authenticity is Not New

Before You Cry “Demon!” {A Life Overseas}

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Jonathan is over at A Life Overseas today, taking on the tricky topic of spiritual warfare. 

dem

I believe the enemy is real. I believe he still seeks to kill and destroy. He still deceives. He still lies. He still wars against the King.

I also believe we blame him for way too much.

We talk about how we’re “under attack” or how our ministry team is receiving a whole lot of “opposition.” And sometimes, we really believe there’s spiritual warfare going on, but often those words and phrases are simply code for “my life’s falling apart right now and I need help” or “our team members are all really angry with each other.” It’s easier to say “we’re under attack” than it is to say “we’re really drowning.”

A conversation on Facebook illustrates the problem. After a missionary described a bunch of really hard stuff that was happening in their life and ministry, a friend left the following comment: “That kind of opposition makes me think that you’re doing something powerful.”

Do we really believe that? Play that logic out a bit: “Oh, bad things are happening to you, you must be doing something right.” Or reverse it, “Oh, things are going well for you, you must be doing something wrong.” That’s crazy talk, really, but we do it all the time.

Do we really believe that the only reason difficult stuff happens to Christians is because we’re doing something right and the hounds of hell are now opposing us? It’s possible, of course, but we make the assumption automatically and apply it liberally. Is it possible that Satan and his demons are wreaking havoc on a specific missionary or ministry? Absolutely. But just because it’s a possibility doesn’t mean it’s the only possibility.

Continue reading the article here.

“God is Disappointed With Me” {A Life Overseas}

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Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today, continuing her series on Timothy Sanford’s book “I Have to be Perfect” (And Other Parsonage Heresies). Whew! These last three lies are intense. Don’t miss the end of the post where she offers several resource ideas for combating these lies.

gdm

I grew up hearing sermons about the “goodness and severity of God” and about God not hearing the prayer of the sinner. Girls Bible study times were filled with questions like, “If women are to remain silent in church, is it a sin to whisper in church to ask someone the song number if I didn’t hear it announced?” and “How long should my shorts be?” So by the time I entered ministry at the age of 19, no one had to tell me I needed to be perfect; I already knew I needed to be perfect. And not only did I know I needed to be perfect, I knew everyone else needed to be perfect as well.

At the same time, I knew everyone wasn’t perfect. As a teenager, I knew my church friends were being physically and sexually abused at home, but no one would ever dare talk about that at church, where their dads were leaders. This taught me that the families around me weren’t perfect; it also taught me that they needed to appear that way. Furthermore, it taught me that the rest of us needed to treat them as though they were perfect. The appearance of perfection mattered more than actual righteousness.

Those are my stories; your stories will be different. Yet our collective stories may have taught us something dark and devious: that ministry and missionary families are (or should be) holier than everyone else. Our stories may have taught us that in order to serve God, we need to be super human. At the very least, our stories may have taught us that we need to project an image of perfection. Sometimes we extend this expectation to others and become judgmental of their non-perfection; other times we require it only of ourselves.

Finish reading the post here.