Family & Commitment
On Father’s Day, Hayley discusses what it means to commit to being family and a collective body. (Photo by Gary Butterfield on Unsplash)
SPEAKER NOTES
Family and Commitment
Introduction
I wanted to take the opportunity to talk about family this morning. For a few different reasons- it’s Father’s Day! Happy Father’s Day!
And then especially with it being Pride month, there’s a lot of talk around family and chosen family.
Many religious groups use the language of family when talking about their members — “my church family” our BLC family - which can be a beautiful reflection of the depth of relationships possible.
It can be damaging in some contexts however, when there is a bait and switch. - Welcome to the family — except not all of you is welcome. We expect you to change. - You’re loved — butttt only if you fit into our narrow expectations of what is acceptable.
And in that case, being called family and then being cast aside or judged can feel even more damaging.
Against the backdrop of the damaging possibilities I want to walk thru looking at family as a source of guidance, hope, and inclusion.
Being a family is not some stagnant assessment of who is in and who is out. But a commitment. To honoring one another, and honoring ourselves.
To keeping our connections with our ancestors and passing on tradition lovingly to the generations to come.
We have the opportunity to move beyond surface level connections and into deep solidarity through this symbol of being a collective. A family.
Family is also on my mind extra because, I just came back from a family reunion with my husband, Andy’s, side of the family.
We all gathered in Banner Elk, North Carolina for the week.
And to start our time together we had a church service outside (wasn’t here last Sunday, leading an embodied prayer in a different time zone.)
Read scripture and had a time of sharing that all tied into that beauty of connection both to the family around us and the family that’s come before.
Left me with a deep sense of appreciation witnessing the storytelling and remembering, especially the stories that tied back to Andy’s grandparents.
Placing ourselves in the rootedness of family — whether it’s your family of origin, or those you’ve chosen to surround yourself with, maybe family you’ve found here —- gives us the greater perspective needed to keep going. To find hope. To remember our collective stories. To remember that we belong to each other.
OUTLINE: So for our time today I’d love to walk us through exploring the familial roles we may have found ourselves in, breaking out of those molds in freedom and resiliency, and what it means to be the collective Body together.
Roles
- I’m currently reading a book that (spoiler alert) I’m hoping to lead a book club on soon. It’s called We Can Do Hard Things: Answers to Life’s 20 questions (Glennon Doyle, Abby Wambach, and Amanda Doyle).
- They have a popular podcast, also called We Can Do Hard Things, and this book came out of the podcast. Glennon, Abby, and Amanda wrote this book of answers not from a place of “everything is awesome and we totally know what we’re doing”.
- They found themselves feeling lost - in grief, an eating disorder, a cancer diagnosis- and compiled a book of reminders that everyone is out here figuring things out, again and again.
- People are struggling with life’s constant changes and demands, and we’re better together when we can lean on one another’s wisdom and experiences. The book includes contributions from a wide array authors, speakers and researchers, experts in their field.
- The question the first chapter centers on is “Why am I like this?” A big theme they dive into is that we are shaped by the patterns of our family of origin, and for some of us this may include our religious family of origin as well.
In conversation with those they’ve interviewed, they discuss how often we are put into boxes, expected to stay in our particular molds in order to find acceptance and to feel safe. And what really intrigued me in this chapter was the presentation of Family Roles from Dr. Alexandra Solomon. Walk us thru these:
Family Roles with Dr. Alexandra Solomon
- Hero/ Perfect One: I’m the responsible one. I believed if I was perfect enough, my family's problems would go away. I expect a lot from myself and its difficult to embrace imperfection. Now, my healing work is to be less controlling and more patient, especially in stressful moments
- Scapegoat/Rebel: I often said what no one else would say. I called people out to try and help the family function better. Now I’m a gifted leader, but sometimes I feel misunderstood. I’m used to standing outside the family system and criticizing it. Now, my healing work is to find comfort in connection and belonging.
- Parentified Child: I felt a deep responsibility to empathize with and provide comfort to the adults in my family. I often acted as a “little adult” for others to confide in. I’m compassionate and collaborative. But I often try to solve other people’s problems for them. Now, my healing work is to set clear boundaries and tune in to my own desires
- Peacemaker/Mascot: I learned to defuse family conflict with humor, mediation skills, and diplomacy. As the “middleman” I drew attention away from conflict. I kept calm under pressure and brought laughter as a form of distraction. I can be the entertainer or mediator during times of intensity. Now, my healing work is to explore suppressed emotions.
- Lost Child/ Easy One: I was easygoing in an attempt to reduce the stress on the grownups. I went with the flow and withdrew to avoid being a burden. But all I wanted was to be seen and loved. My gifts include my flexibility, adaptability, and interdependence. Now, my healing work is to express my needs and take up space.
- Identified Patient: I was my family’s “reason” for having problems, the common cause my family organized themselves around. My strengths include self-advocacy, self-awareness, and resilience. Now, my healing work is to consider that I’m not broken at all.
I’m curious if you find yourself identifying with any of these roles when thinking about your upbringing in your family of origin. There’s a couple I identify with, and I actually found it pretty vulnerable to think about sharing. What it reveals about me, what it reveals about my family. Occupying a role provides a sense of purpose and understanding in the complexity of family dynamics. I found it interesting to think about how these experiences and roles shape us now.
Beyond the Roles (freedom)
And I love that Solomon includes what our healing work is now. This is how we move toward freedom in being our full selves.
I can move toward healing by loosening my grip on needing control. I can move toward healing by setting and honoring boundaries in my life. (Both are super hard).
But both may be super easy for some of you! We heal together to teach one another and lean on each other’s strengths.
We help one another move toward freedom.
A collective of people recognizing that there is potential beyond the limits and categories we either sort ourselves into or kept in by others.
When thinking of an example of moving beyond our roles, you know I really tried to find something different. But the soundtrack that plays often in my car, in my home, was just drawing me in and I couldn’t ignore it. All of this reminds me of Encanto.
Maybe you’ve seen it, maybe you havent, maybe you’ve seen it 8 million times.
I won’t go into all the plot details for The Family Madrigal and their magical casita and all of their magic powers.
A Major premise of the movie is that the expectation of being a perfect family and staying perfectly in the lines of occupying a family role, causes bigger and bigger cracks to appear.
More and more pressure until things simply can not hold. But when things break, when they do fall apart, the family (spoiler alert) is able to rebuild — this time from a place of being their true authentic selves, letting go of the perfectionism that was no longer serving them.
They come back together, a changed family, with deeper appreciation and respect, their love and togetherness keeping the magic renewed and alive.
The work of being a family that we commit ourselves to now needs to leave room for us all to be our truest selves. This is why calling a community family cannot be an empty promise of simply an affiliation. - Otherwise we run the risk of setting up more boxes to contain people, more roles and requirements.
Creating a culture of breaking out of molds is our liberation now, and it sets the stage for liberation to come.
In her work, indigenous author Kaitlin Curtice names this as being a good ancestor in the making.
How do we create less boxes and restrictions for our children? Those we’ve birthed, those we love and care for, and more broadly the generations to come.
We can lovingly pass down tradition while critiquing tradition, just as Jesus did. We can set down that which feels restrictive, exclusive, even violent or incomplete. We sift through what is necessary and hopeful and present this as ground to stand on. This is our loving work.
Prentis Hemphill — an embodiment practitioner and activist quoted in We Can Do Hard Things says: “You’re the edge of your lineage, and there’s something for you to attend to. There’s something for you to transform.”
Transition: We break out of our molds in freedom, and we break out of our molds in resiliency.
Beyond the Roles (Resiliency)
During Lent, we spoke about this a bit in our talk on Giving Up “Pure Community.” That the strength of a community is not marked by its perfection. Instead, a big marker of strength is resiliency.
When we talk about resiliency, I’m specifically thinking about the ability to repair after there is rupture. Because rupture is inevitable.
For some years now, I’ve been curious about communities promising to be safe spaces. I don’t think this is a bad thing!
I love that communities both in religious contexts and broader culture are wanting to establish safety for those in their care.
I do however wonder if maybe there is a different way to capture the intention behind naming something as safe.
The feeling of safety can be fleeting. In my closest relationships I more often than not do feel safe to be my full self.
And yet, there can be ruptures that threaten the feeling of safety. Humans are flawed, we’re imperfect. And unwavering safety may be an overpromise.
Story: For several years, I worked with a spiritual formation program for first year college students.
And every year, there was an observable pattern that there would be ruptures that would threaten that feeling of safety within the group.
Not because anything was wrong! But again, because of the flaws and lack of total perspective that come with the territory of being human.
I learned that it would be irresponsible of me to promise that the group would be a safe space. Depending on the positionality of each student - their background, experiences and identity, safety was not guaranteed just because we were a spiritual formation program.
However, each year I laid out the possibility that though we could not make things totally safe, we could commit to making them sacred.
That when there was rupture, we could align with the love Jesus models and actively choose to uphold the full humanity of everyone involved.
That upholding, the coming back to love over and over again, brought us back to the sacred. Honoring the Divine within and around us.
Maybe this feels like semantics - safe or sacred - but personally, I like holding sacredness as the goal. It feels more like an ongoing commitment than an assessment. - The threats that come from without and within will often leave us wondering if safety can even be possible - When we chose to orient ourselves to the sacred, we are reminded that love and goodness remain possible even in the chaos
Repair
- And this is where repair comes in. A helpful way of thinking about repair I’ve come across is viewing it as an opportunity to re-write the ending of a story. - Thanks Dr. Becky Good Inside (parenting expert — who has some great resources out, especially when thinking about moving away from expecting perfection in families)
- Think about a conflict, a rupture. It’s been a long day, I’m putting together dinner and getting the kids ready to eat. And my son is protesting that what I’ve made is gross, he’s not going to eat it. And in the process of protesting he knocks over a full cup of water. I raise my voice “What are you doing!” And he runs away upset over the mistake he’s made.
- The story could end there. He’s left feeling some shame. I’ve set an expectation that mistakes are not allowed. I’m feeling guilty I yelled. The end.
- A commitment to repair, invites in the opportunity to change the ending of the story. Once I’m feeling more regulated, I can go in his room, restablish connection and reassure him. I can apologize for raising my voice. We can return to the table together.
- This may feel quite foreign if it was not modeled in our families of origin. Maybe there was conflict, everyone went to their rooms, and the next day proceeded like nothing had happened. A lot of stories left with less than satisfactory endings.
- The repair, the healings, the new endings may come quickly. Or maybe years later, there is a return and an apology.
- I believe we carry with us the responsibility to close that gap — to come back to upholding the sacred now, so we aren’t leaving one another waiting for healing to come.
- And. we can lament the stories that will never get picked back up. Left unfinished, when there is no real option for repair. We can grieve that together, a different type of healing.
- We can commit to being family, to helping one another heal, in solidarity and beloved community. Establishing an ongoing culture of sacredness and repair.
Scripture
- When we look at scripture, thinking about family, there is quite a lot of use of familial terms that we can find. Groups frequently referred to as “brothers and sisters” — an address of affection, a reminder to love one another, even stranger and enemy.
- In our attachment series we talked about Jesus calling God “Abba Father”. This name that invokes a tenderness. - A loving and involved God that counters a portrayal of a Father that may be distant or removed.
- But the image of family I want to bring us to today, is the metaphor of Body.
Put up the passage to read along with from 1 Corinthians: (a little long, whole thing on the screen and I’ll read some key parts for us today)
For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.
Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.
If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”
On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.
- If one part suffers, all suffer with it. If one part rejoices, all rejoice together. This is the commitment of being family. We grieve together, we rejoice together, we are undeniably connected as the Body.
- We see this in our immediate community — I’ve witnessed it here at BLC time and time again. People loving and listening and supporting one another. In solidarity, as beloved community.
- We don’t need to stay in particular molds or boxes, but we do all have strengths, gifts that we contribute as a family. Our whole selves welcomed and celebrated, our stories held and cared for.
- To counter any hierarchy that may threaten togetherness, Paul writes that the weaker parts are indispensable, clothed with greater honor. And this is perhaps the biggest commitment we face now as being a part of the Now Body of Christ.
- We are witnessing atrocities threaten the safety of parts of the Body in too many ways to name.
- The climate of violence and dehumanization tearing apart lives, destroying whole lineages, wrecking the Earth. And when the body is hurting we can not ignore it, we cannot separate ourselves from the pain.
- If we are to call ourselves family, we have a choice to make — an active commitment. We must work together in healing, in hope and persistence until all parts of the Body are honored.
- We must not force eyes to be ears or hands to be feet. There has to be freedom in allowing each part to be as they are. There has to be resiliency in healing what is broken.
- When we hear those in power - who claim to be above the body - saying that refrain “I have no need of you”, we protest and demand that sacredness be upheld.
- Modeling freedom and resiliency begins with the family right in front of us and has the potential to extend far beyond
- Guided by an Abba Father, we stay committed to one another in reverence and love.
- This tender loving parent holding us as the Body is broken again and again. Reminding us that upholding the sacred is possible, even now. Especially now.
Prayer
Connection w your body in a way that feels helpful and grounding
This is not the time for us to leave our bodies. We cannot run the risk of falling into the expectation that we operate as a machine. With dispensable and replaceable parts.
As family, in solidarity, the beloved community — each part matters deeply.