To Whom Much is Given, Much is Expected

Last month, in the blog post, “True Listening is Love in Action,” I introduced the book, The Road Less Traveled, by Dr. M. Scott Peck. 

In his book, Dr. Peck, discusses the attributes that — in his opinion — make for a fulfilled human being, based largely on his experiences as a psychiatrist and person.  He also encourages us to confront our problems which would enable us to reach a higher level of self-understanding.

He subdivides his “wisdom” into three parts:  discipline, love, and grace.  In the earlier post, I discussed the first three parts.

Something happened today that makes me want to talk about the last section… the section on grace.

And I guess it’s fitting that this revelation of mine happened in church…

I’ve sung in various choirs all my life.  Compared to its other choir members, I’m relatively new to this "current" choir — only singing with them for a couple of years, and I am one of the “younger” members in the group…

Today, our choir director put a quartette together — of which I was a member.  After Mass, the director received compliments on how well the quartette sung — comparing us to a professional group from New York, which was very gratifying and appreciated.  The choir director would like to do this more often.

Even with these glowing compliments, the choir director wanted to talk to me after everyone left.

She wanted to talk to me about my “stickiness.”

Me:  “Sticky?  I don’t understand.  What do you mean by stickiness?”

She:    “Well, when Jake started singing your part, I can feel you stiffening up.  You became “sticky.”  Because of that, the psalm didn’t come off as well as it did in practice.  It was still good, just not as good as I know it could have been.”

Me:     “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting Jake to start the psalm.  Cindy mentioned that I should cantor the start, so when Jake started, I was confused… wondering if Cindy said I should or if he should and I got distracted and…it became an ‘oops moment’ — not sure what I was to do.”

She:    “Overall it was good.  No one noticed, and we got compliments.  It’s just next time — and he’ll do it the next time…that’s just him — instead of stiffening up, bring Jake into you and let it all flow together.  It’ll be more connected and flow as one, instead of disconnected.  Your energy influences the group.  If you stiffen up, then it flows through the group and they’ll stiffen up as well, and everything becomes disconnected.  It all flows from you.”

Me:     “I understand how my energy influences the group, and I’m doing the best I can.  It’s hard when I’m surrounded by those who want to take control and others who want to stand out and be the center of attention. 

“It’s hard to bring all the different personalities together — to get that unity and flow within the group… Part of me just wants to disconnect from them, while at the same time connect for the flow — trying not to be distracted by them, but, at the same time, share with them.  It’s hard to balance the two…   

“Because it’s difficult, I end up concentrating on what I can do, which is reach out to the congregation and embrace them with my energy and bring them in.  I know I’m effective at that, because I see it in their faces when I sing to them.”

She:    “It is difficult to balance the disconnection with the connection.  Try thinking of bringing balance to the group by bringing them into you as you do the congregation.  When you sing, imagine your energy flowing over and surrounding everyone and everything.  Think of extending that energy beyond the congregation — pushing it further out and around… encompassing the singers around you, the instrumentalists behind you, and even those beyond the walls of the church.  Shoot for more…” 

Shoot for more...

Our conversation brought me back to what Dr. Peck said in his book—regarding grace and spiritual growth — along with the saying, “To whom much is given, much is expected.”

There is an expectation and responsibility to push ourselves to greater and greater wisdom… to greater and greater effectiveness. 

“To whom much is given, much is expected.”

The choir director didn’t go to Jake and ask him to become more of a team player and sing as part of the group. 

No.  She was asking me to do something that was far more difficult.  She was asking me to use my energy to influence the flow of the group —  not to change the individuals in the group but to balance the differences within the personalities to create a more cohesive sound. 

And all this is to be done without words… only through my presence, intent, and nonverbal movement and touch within the group…

Is this going to be hard for me?  YES!!!  So, why attempt it?  What if I fail?

There are so many people who live their lives unaware of others.  Why can’t I blend in with them and be one of them?  

Wouldn’t it be easier for me if I could just close myself off and only focus on my time in the spotlight?  Why should I put my energy out there to make the group sound better?  What’s in it for me?  Why extend myself in this manner? 

The answer is simple... but hard to achieve. 

It's because not to do so would display the unwillingness to extend myself to others. 

It would be a barrier to spiritual growth.  It would be the opposite of love.  

And that's not me...

“To whom much is given, much is expected.”

.

A Dying Spirit

I can’t say that I’m attached to any one church, because I’ve sung at various churches in my lifetime.

This weekend, a friend of mine visited me at one of these churches.  Our plan was for her to meet me at the church in time to hear me sing, and then we’d visit Mom in rehab and go out to dinner.

Our dinner conversation revolved around our afternoon’s activities — and she started to tell me about the nondenominational church she was attending.  At her church, there would be music and singing at the start, and then the minister would come in and start the “actual service.” 

She really doesn’t care for their music because it’s too loud for her taste, so she makes a point to slip in late — unseen — so, she can miss that part.

But she really, really likes the minister and how genuine and personable he is.  Even though she hasn’t been attending for very long and their congregation is HUGE, the minister greets her as if he has known her for all her life.

This welcoming nature of his makes her feel as if she’s a part of his family… as if he wants her there… as if this is her home and she belongs there.   This feeling makes her want to come back, week after week. 

She contrasted this warmth with the feeling she got from the church in which I sang.

To give you a bit of background:  The way the Mass is set up is that the songleader/choir (which is me for this particular service) will start off by leading the congregation in a gathering hymn, then the priest will lead the congregation in prayer, then the songleader/choir leads the congregation in community prayer/response and then hands the congregation’s attention back over to the priest… and we go back and forth like this throughout the service.

Singing is interspersed throughout the service and not just at the beginning.

My friend commented how she really enjoyed the music and the selections of songs.  She loved the way I sang, and how I lit up the place with my energy.  She enjoyed watching me interact with the congregation and the music director.  It made her happy to watch me because it was clear that I enjoyed what I was doing… and that I wanted to be there. 

She also pointed out that — without realizing it — that very energy spotlights what was lacking in the rest of the service.

Once a song was done and the 76-year-old priest took over, all the light and warmth went away — until I sang again. 

The priest’s monotone tone and mannerisms destroyed whatever was created before him.

He was just going through the motions… with no intent, no conviction… no joy...

It was apparent that he didn’t want to be there. 

Sadly, what she observed was true. 

 

When the presider shows up out of obligation — with no genuine spirit to share — it’s not surprising that the congregation is dwindling down to nothing. 

There’s no mystery why there are no young people in the congregation.  There’s no mystery why there are very few people in their 20s-30s-40s-50s attending. 

There’s no mystery. 

Once the pastor no longer supports his members’ spiritual growth, he loses his purpose and credibility.   Once his members no longer support his church, his church will no longer exist. 

A person with no spirit is nothing

More than a dark, abandoned shell of a person

Just like a church with no people is nothing

More than a dark, abandoned building

The two go hand-in-hand…

.

Taking One Day at a Time

Yes, I still subscribe to the belief that everything happens for a reason and will work itself out. 

My mantra is still: Take one day at a time…simply go with the flow… only focus on the things I can control…

Yes, they are helping me get through the last couple of months and the months that are ahead of me. 

For example, Mom’s health — physical and emotional— is still an issue.  I’ve been going with Mom to her various doctors’ appointments and tests, and her pending surgery looms out there in the near future. 

She is not happy with what’s going on — because none of this was her plan.  None of this is in her control…

Her stay at the rehab is coming to an end, and it was our hope to have the restoration—due to the flooding of the kitchen — completed before Mom was released, but the insurance company is not cooperating.  Needless to say, her house is still upside-down.  

I’ve been dealing with Mom’s appointments, her financial needs, her emotional needs, her housing needs, and her future needs.  I’ve been juggling these things, along with dealing with my own financial, emotional, housing, and future needs…

Add to that, there are caring family members who want constant updates and have endless suggestions and directives.  Without meaning to, they are adding additional pressures because they are constantly demanding answers and solutions from me… answers and solutions that only time can reveal.

It’s all a bit overwhelming. 

Focusing on one day at a time is helping. 

Deep breathing and medication exercises are helping, too. 

And when I reach the end of each day — without breaking down in tears — I have to admit that I’m managing pretty well. 

.

Spirituality vs. Religion

An acquaintance, Shelly, asked me about our “progress” on the book.  I shared with her our search for someone who can understand and capture what we desire for our cover art.

Immediately, Shelly proceeded to list names of people her son knew who did artwork and web designs.  She offered to send me links to their websites and talk to her son about all of this…

I appreciated her enthusiasm, but we really needed someone who could understand and capture our vision… 

In trying to explain this, I used the word spiritual.

She stepped back, looking defeated.  Her eyes dimmed, and her confidence dissolved.  She shook her head and started to take back her offer because she, her son, and his friends are not churchgoers…

I stopped her there, because there is a big difference between being spiritual and going to church.   

Spirituality is not defined by whether you go to church or not.  

Spirituality is not defined by a particular religious dogma — or even whether you believe in a Supreme Being or not… whether you believe in life after death or not…

No, don’t confuse the two.  

Organized religion exists to help us achieve spirituality and is not the end in itself. 

Once a religion no longer supports our spiritual growth, it loses its purpose and credibility.  

Spirituality does not suffer that same fate, because it inspires us to be inclusive.  It doesn't create barriers nor restrict personal growth.

Spirituality cannot be contained in a church building… but thrives within the inner core of each person.

No… don’t confuse the two.

As I said this, Shelly’s smile came back… her confidence came back… her spirit came back… home.


.

Transitions

It’s getting harder and harder to keep my insecurities at bay these days. 

No… this has nothing to do with my dream of becoming a published author.

This has to do with Mom.  As I walk down the hall that leads to Mom’s hospital room, I’m afraid of how this story will end.

No…  That’s a lie.  I’m not wrestling with a fear…. but with a natural law.

I know how this will end.   

It’ll end the way each of our journey ends.

Safe People

I just ran into this term and its definition, and I really like it.

"Safe People: People who draw you closer to who you were meant to be spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically. They encourage you to be your most loving, growing self."

Wouldn’t that be awesome — to be defined as a safe person by others?!

It makes me think about how lucky I am to have a number of safe people surrounding me.

Just think how different the world would be, if everyone was surrounded by safe people and was a safe person for others? 

I can't imagine anything better than that.  Can you? 

.

Retreating from Retreats

The women’s retreat that Katherine tricked me — I mean, invited me — to attend was this past weekend. 

I know, for most people, retreats are seen as good things.  These gatherings allow us to withdraw from our ordinary activities for several days, so we can refocus and rejuvenate. 

Spiritual retreats — which I would categorize this one to be — give the participants time to reflect and reconnect to their source of strength and inner “selves.”  They give us the opportunity to meet and commune with people of similar thoughts and beliefs. 

I know it sounds great on paper — and even as persuasive as Katherine was — nothing could prevent my insecurities from resurfacing.  Fears of rejection and not fitting in saturated my soul.  Memories of my first — which was to be my last — women’s retreat came flooding back.

That retreat was meant to be a spiritual retreat as well — one based on the religion in which I practiced.  Ironically, my choir director “back then” was the one who invited and sponsored me — just like Katherine (my current choir director) is sponsoring me, in this one…

In that past retreat, I had to surrender all control and freedoms.  That choir director and “sponsor” simply dropped me off at the retreat site and left me there.  I was not told what to expect (“Don’t anticipate.”).  I was not given an agenda or schedule.  I was not allowed to wear a watch or know what time it was.  I was placed in the hands of complete strangers with no way to escape.

We (the participants) were shuttled from one meeting room to another like sheep.  We were assigned bunk beds in a condemned building that had no air conditioning, minimal lights, and sparse toiletries.   [This retreat occurred during the muggy and steamy month of August in Florida.]

Discussion leaders were those who had participated in the last retreat.  It’s during their sessions that they shared their life stories — one miserable event after another and another and another.  Loneliness and abandonment resonated in every tale of woe. 

By the end of each meeting, I was convinced that God was trying to prepare me for some horrible event that was going to happen to me.  I was convinced that the wonderful life I had — up to this point — was going to be taken from me.  Why else was I dumped here, surrounded by such tales of misery and woe?!

Putting my paranoia aside, it was apparent that these gatherings were meaningful, supportive, and helpful to those who experienced similar misfortunes.  They, definitely, found what they were longing for in the arms of this structured and controlled environment that they created.  

I was happy for them, but I was not one of them — nor did I long to become one of them.  I wanted to “retreat” from this women’s retreat as quickly as I could, but I couldn’t.  I had no form of transportation to get away.  I was stuck for the entire 80-hour experience.

And they used every moment to work on me — to conform my thoughts and beliefs to theirs. 

Yep.  I was identified, quickly, as an outliner — someone in need of being saved.  It was their mission to transform me into someone who was as miserable, unhappy, and unworthy as they were… someone... more acceptable in their eyes.

It’s been 20+ years since that experience, yet all of it came flooding back to me once I agreed to attend this spiritual retreat with Katherine.  Ironically, I will be labeled as an outliner with this group as well — and for similar reasons as before.  I don’t conform to this group’s practices or beliefs, either. 

This group supports a very liberal and free-spirited lifestyle; I, on the other hand, live a quiet existence, void of excitement.  I am vanilla in their eyes — ordinary, bland, plain, dull… 

So, yeah…  I will be seen as an outliner in this group as well.  Katherine knows this, too — so, we came up with some escape routes for me.

First, I will have my own car, so I can leave whenever I wanted.

Second, Katherine will be attending.  Even though she knows that I will be fine — that I’ll fit in, that I will be welcomed into the group, and that I will not be forced to transform into someone I am not — she reassures me that she will act as my “protector.”  I can turn to her when I’m feeling overwhelmed or stressed… much like the parent who is there to fight off the unseen monsters under a frightened child’s bed.

So…. with this plan in hand, I agreed to go… and go I shall.

(to be continued…)

.