Like most years, over thirty of us gathered at my father-in-law’s home in northern Wisconsin for Thanksgiving Dinner, 2019. I’m guessing it was my tenure in the seminary that’s made me the official family prayer-sheriff at functions like these. “When it comes your turn,” I instructed, “tell God what you’re grateful for this year.” What followed was a monotonous little prayer-train chugging ‘round the table: “friends and family…friends and family…friends and family….” Just as I was thinking, “Next year, I gotta get a better prayer-prompt,” the locomotive screeched to a dramatic halt. My grinning brother-in-law, Scott, piped up, “I’m grateful for President Trump!” Sitting to the right of Scott was my otherwise quiet, and scholarly brother-in-law, Nick. As if he’d been rehearsing for that moment all year long, he deadpanned, “I’m grateful for impeachment.” The table erupted into laughter. During the millisecond of silence between my dueling brother’s-in-laws’ pseudo-prayers, I studied one of the dinner guests across from me. It was the Minnesota, blue-state father-in-law of my nephew, Ben. He was clutching at, what appeared to be, an invisible string of pearls at his chest. He wore that pale, panicked look of one whose next breath was in question. I was relieved with his relief, when all that laughter broke his tension, and therefore, my tension.
Speaking of Thanksgiving dinners, are you looking forward to your family’s post-election Thanksgiving this year? Or are you considering serving your platter of turkey, pre-cut, into bite-sized pieces so that the knives can be removed from the table? In addition to his observation that human beings are “rational animals,” ancient old Aristotle noted that we are also “political animals.” Maybe you’ve noticed in some of your family gatherings that the political natures of some relatives get in the way of their rational natures? Maybe you’re thinking of a time when your political nature hijacked your amygdala at a family function? This year, Thanksgiving dinner, for many, will be served with side dishes of bewilderment, and disillusionment.
Counselor-Approved Strategies for Getting Through a Family Gathering
It’s not unusual, during this time of year, for someone in my profession to field questions about strategies to keep the, “Thanks,” in Thanksgiving. That list usually includes things like rehearsing responses to difficult relatives ahead of time, intentional breathing, avoidance of alcohol, bookending the gathering with an intention-setting conversation before the event, and a debriefing session at the end. My grandma and grandpa’s generation would have said, “Don’t ever talk about religion or politics at a family gathering.” This year, the same old counselor-recommended strategies feel weak—like medicine designed to fight a cold, when our fevered nation is suffering from something more like the flu, or worse.
Finding Resilience in Difficult Times
In light of the turbulence set loose in our country these days, it seems to me that the old strategies aren’t enough. Simply making it through a holiday gathering without sparking a conflict, seems like too small a goal for these challenging times. Instead, I’m thinking a lot about the resilient women and men I’ve interviewed over the years. Like species of desert plants, or life-forms surviving on the ocean floor, these specimens have found a way to, not only survive in difficult circumstances, but to thrive.
One thing they all share in common, one of the things I’ve admired, has been their life-sustaining spirituality. For some, it’s homegrown. For others, it’s handed down from a religious tradition. For some, it takes place in a church, temple, mosque, or synagogue. For others, nature is their cathedral. A chair on the porch—their pew.
A Call to Inscape
Earlier, I mentioned that many are experiencing bewilderment and disillusionment. Spiritual masters like John of the Cross, or Theresa of Avila tell us that an awful lot of growth takes place in the dark places where things like bewilderment, and disillusionment lurk. To put it a different way, any old-timey farmer knows that manure makes the best fertilizer…if that manure is properly composted. If you find yourself sampling the Dark Night just a little, or feeling like you’ve got some form of manure to process, maybe your Thanksgiving prep this year could include a spiritual inventory? In my own Christian tradition, our scriptures record the way Jesus would periodically disappear out into the wilderness when things got weird back in town. Could it be time for you to take a literal, or metaphorical trip into the wilderness right around now?
Don’t get me wrong. This is no time for thoughtful people to remove themselves into a blissed-out spirituality of quietism. This is no time for the likes of you and me to escape from the challenges of our times. However, my research into resilience has me thinking that the time is ripe for an inscape—a collective movement toward an inner life. Having grounded ourselves more fully in that Presence that pulses within us, we may find ourselves empowered to enter back out into the world as contemplatives in action. With a confidence we can speak, and act with an equanimity that issues forth from that deeper place.
Dialogue
What are the ways that you have pursued an inner life in the past? Could you return to those well-worn paths, or is it time to break some new spiritual ground?
How do you regularly connect to meaning and purpose? Can you prioritize that more?
When was the last time that someone inspired you in a deep down way?
Where do you regularly go to receive challenge for your complacency, and comfort for your useless anxiety?
When was the last time you took a retreat? Would you be willing to book one soon?
Would you know where to find a spiritual book of real substance?
Have you ever pursued spiritual direction?