Paul Vargis
TyA workshop I have given in many places from community to church to classroom that explores ideas around grieiving. What is grieving? It is how we process loss an change, if we understand that every change in life no matter how small to large brings a grieving cycle then we can become more attuned with emotions, and open to discussing loss.
We can also become more open to the risk of belonging.
Lars and the Real Girl was a gift at a Winter Refresher in the 00’s at St. Andrew’s College, for those in ministry and preparing for ordered ministry in the United Church of Canada. This is a wonderful story on the power of belonging in healing, and can raise or rather open the ethical discussion on what makes a life. See, we are not fully aware, but something has happened to Lars, he is secluding and isolating in the guest house on his brother and sister-in-laws property, withdrawing from his usual community (re: church), and folks are beginning to notice. One day he knocks on his brother’s door, and makes a request, he has an online girlfriend who is coming to visit, due to their devout beliefs she can’t stay with him but could she use the guest room. The sister-in-law is excited Lars is coming back from the darkness.
The girlfriend is a wheel chair user, and one begins to think it is ableism at the shock on the brother and spouse face, but then you see– the wheelchair users is a life size doll. A visit to the doctor the next day just affirms Lars is going through something, they can try to shock him out of it not knowing the result, or roll with the delusion and see what happens. The family decides to roll with the delusion for healing, but will others?
It is a story of belonging, as Bianca (the real girl) is affirmed in community. She has a life, girls nights, bowling league, elected to the school board— and then…
She falls ill.
There is a beautiful scene where the women’s group shows up with casseroles, when asked why by Lars, they simply reply “we are here to sit, knit and eat” that is we are simply here to be present with you as you journey out of your normal, into the unknown, and into the new normal.
What a beautiful concept of belonging.
What a way to show the journey of grieving (take time if you can to host a potluck and discussion night around Lars and the Real Girl)…
For more take a dive into the other slides and ideas/questions thoughts to wrestle through.
In Canada if you are struggling with Mental Health, please call 988.
Also you may want to invest in micro-credentials (trainings) for yourself, group or church in things such as Mental Health First Aid, ASSIST, Safe Talk, and Naloxone.
The last 2 Saturdays I was blessed to facilitate workshops at the Supernatural Life Centre in Calgary on Substance Misuse and behaviours. This morning was more of a chit chat with Q & A, but last week we dove right into the learning. What follows is some pictures, a short video clip, and slides…
https://www.facebook.com/100003228172418/videos/435749522398046
See the link below the pictures for a 10 minute clip of last week’s sharing.
Grieving is universal.
It happens whether every change in life, all that changes is the length of time, and the emotional and physiological impact on our system. To be evidentiary about it. The most famous psychological understanding of grieving is Kubler-Ross’, I also like the U Theory, as both aid in walking through change for an individual, family or community (as well as organizations, forgetting about grief is usually where change theory falls flat and doesn’t create an efficacy in change management).
But in universal grieving, sometimes there is ancient wisdom that we overlook simply because it may be seen as religious, quackery or superstitious…yet within how those who have gone before are honoured and communed with, is the point.
Whether it is times of honouring ancestors, celebrating life ceremonies, days of the dead and other rituals these pieces aid in the sharing of the story of life. They aid in processing together and communally about grief of the loss, they share and model how to journey through life, death and the wordview/belief systems of what comes after death.
And yes, they aid in grieving, in processing.
Same as the Roman Catholic practice of praying for the dead (like the rituals noted above, I cannot speak to the mystery or more apt, mysticism aspects that happen but only into the psychological). Is it about moving one through Purgatory or from Hell into Paradise (heaven)? This is the system that shapes the practice, yet I remember one Bascillian Father mentor who spoke to Purgatory not being a plac,e but a process at the time of death that purged from each person that which kept them out of full and immersive communion with the Holy Mystery.
But I digress.
Prayers for the Dead.
Time to process. Talk through, the loss, the healing, the hopes, the fear and trepidation of the new. In the practice of the Mass Intention, it reminds the community to continue to walk with the loved ones left behind. Yes, it is an important piece, for in the moment of the loss, folks show up, but especially in a modern world that commodigies the length of appropriate grieving time, is it the funeral when showing up stops? Or 3 days or 7 days? Some continue to show up and journey, sometimes loss renews friendships and family ties, but then many times after the funeral, those in our own spiritual communities move forward.
This is the intersections of this practice, renewing connection.
Renewing belonging.
For the journey into discovering the new after the loss, is each moment when they would be there, and no longer are.
And knowing, that even with them not physically present…
You can still speak to them
and they will hear you
and love you
As you enter into the new…without them.
It is an ethical dilemma I love to share in class with students, but thought I would share here to percolated discussions or a fun movie night in your own home.
Many years ago at a Winter Refresher, at night out with other ministry leaders saw a viewing of Lars and the Real Girl (2007 with Ryan Gosling), followed by a chinese food dinner to discuss what it said about community. Within the movie though, and where I reflect back and share most is when I am teaching grief work, as it speaks to the importance of belonging. It is a quirky dramedy that is hard to explain to people but a wonderful teaching tool.
Lars, lives in a small town, is part of his Lutheran church choir, well regarded in the small town and liked. He lives in his brother and sister-in-law’s guest house, and recently has gone through a loss/trauma. His sister-in-law is worried about him, as her brother-in-law has always been a bit different, he has gotten more closed off since the event that no one is really discussing.
One day, he comes to his sister-in-law, as he has a request. His girlfriend, Bianca, is coming to visit, they are both devout and so she can’t stay in his place with him would she be able to stay in their guest room. The sister-in-law is excited for his brother-in-law to begin living life again.
When Bianca arrives she is a wheel chair user. Which is easily over come to enter the home, but the brother and sister-in-law cannot stop staring at her. Is it because she has a disability?
No.
She is a life size sex doll.
Lars interacts with Bianca as a living breathing person.
The next day they take Lars to the doctor, who explains, Lars is working through something, so he can be hospitalized or essentially roll with it until Lars is ready to leave Bianca. The brother and sister-in-law opt for the later, and the journey begins. They are not sure what they are doing, but even more is will anyone else or will Lars be cast aside by their town?
Well…
Bianca becomes, much to Lars’ jealousy possibly, embraced by the church and the town. She may even have won some bowling trophies (but she definately won a seat on the school council), the women engage and take her out on girls’ nights. To name but a few things as Bianca discovers belonging and purpose in town.
Then the doctor comes as Lars’ calls. Bianca isn’t feeling well. She is dying.
Lars feels alone again.
Then the church’s womens group shows up, with knitting and casseroles, to sit. Why? Because at times like this that is what you do, you sit and just be with the ones in need.
Where I interject on my sharing of the story is after Bianca dies.
I ask the question, if we are town council, three members, 1 has decided Bianca is recycling for disposal, another is along the lines of a full Lutheran funeral service and burial in the town cemetary. The discussion is as the third and deciding vote we must reach a consensu for which side we fall on. Essentially go through an ethical decision making process of exploring all the valid evidence to reach a decision.
So just from this, or even better, watch the movie…and answer the question in discussion with others…
What happens to Bianca’s remains: Recycling or Burial?
Essentially, a possible allegory on the messy and oppressive discussion we have had throughout human history around personhood (another good discussion viewing on this topic, is Star Trek The Next Generation’s episode “Measure of a Man” on whether Lt. Cmdr. Data is property or sentient).
Want to be able to share what the pandemic has been like? Here’s your change:
And for some inspiration, my youngest is an amazing emergent artist and chose to work in the electronic art format. Viewing layering effects, and learning, here is– C-Tears:
Okay I admit if one were to watch my binge habits this week, they may think this was about the television show that has 2 seasons currently on Netflix Canada by the title, though an excellent pyshcological thriller with unique premise this is not about that. No, this post takes us into an ancient Parable, that Brother Jesus used to teach about being lost. Missing the mark, redemption, forgiveness, and reconciliation. That Henri Nouwen, would take time to share his own meditations a Creatio Divina on the painting of Rembrandt’s of the last image we are left with.
An image in the story when the lost son (as modern translations title the story) comes home, and is lovingly embraced by his father. I encourage you to take time to explore Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son, but this post is not about the writings of Nouwen, or the haunting image, where at different places in time in our own faith journeys we play the roles of father, eldest son, or prodigal son ourselves and for others.
For this is the story, take time to read aloud with friends, or listen to an audio, or read aloud to self, three times. As you read take a moment to enter into the crowd, to the time and space. Each reading rest into one fo these questions:
11 Then He said: “A certain man had two sons. 12 And the younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to me.’ So he divided to them his livelihood. 13 And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, journeyed to a far country, and there wasted his possessions with [a]prodigal living. 14 But when he had spent all, there arose a severe famine in that land, and he began to be in want. 15 Then he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. 16 And he would gladly have filled his stomach with the [b]pods that the swine ate, and no one gave him anything.
17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, 19 and I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.” ’
20 “And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. 21 And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
22 “But the father said to his servants, [c]‘Bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. 23 And bring the fatted calf here and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; 24 for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ And they began to be merry.
25 “Now his older son was in the field. And as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. 27 And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and because he has received him safe and sound, your father has killed the fatted calf.’
28 “But he was angry and would not go in. Therefore his father came out and pleaded with him. 29 So he answered and said to his father, ‘Lo, these many years I have been serving you; I never transgressed your commandment at any time; and yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might make merry with my friends. 30 But as soon as this son of yours came, who has devoured your livelihood with harlots, you killed the fatted calf for him.’
31 “And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours. 32 It was right that we should make merry and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again, and was lost and is found.’ ”
-Luke 15:11-32 (New King James Version)
As I have contemplated the prodigal son story this week it struck me, as we navigate the current messy, honking demise of Christendom (the empire Christianity), and its peeling away to the branches that once and will be of the vine…that many times the established church hears this story as a call to evangelism. A call to convert the heathen, the other. A warning label for the ills of the world out there (blatantly ignoring the ills within, the cancers eating the Body as it were).
What struck me during this time of resting into the story, is how the church is the prodigal (yes I am quite aware of the good church has done within our world, and regular readers know this as well, so it can be seen as the Eldest, yet…currently as we conflate naitonalism-white supremacy-swastika’s with Jesus… it can be a statement that blows away as the house built on sand). Took by force or by crook an inheritance that truly was not theres (heresies of dominionism, doctrine of discovery, heterosexism, ableism, systemic racism; queer hate to name but a few in the not all church, but the meta story in the public’s eye). That has abused power through covering up elder and cleric sexual abuse of congregants (both of adults and children); spiritual abuse; forced conversion at the tip of a sword or threat of economic sanctions, exlusion, eugenics of persons with disabilities, the list of communal harm, injury and death can go on…to the most atrocitious, that we are being called on for reconciliation and truth, some slow to act or try to distract by saying “not my denomination”. Yet, the vein that caused residential schools and Indigenouse genocide exist within the institution regardless of label on the building.
We know the truth.
We are the child, looking at the pig slop, trying to say it’s holy and good.
Literally wallowing in the blood shed and excrement, and saying nothing’s wrong we are the chosen.
At what point.
Does honesty break through?
Do we actually come back to the Jesus of the Gospel. The to heart of the calling:
34 But when the Pharisees heard that He had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. 35 Then one of them, a lawyer, asked Him a question, testing Him, and saying, 36 “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?”
37 Jesus said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”
-Matthew 22:34-40
As an institution, are we ready to leave that which kills behind?
Are we ready to see the beloved disciple in ourselves? Within our neighbour (each person created in the beautiful mosaic that is the image of God?)
And by that, live the reconciling love of the Holy?
As the portrait and words paint–
Collapse into a hug of true healing?
Ah, a bit of a trekkie-spiritual moment, just wrapped up Una McCormack’s Autobiograpy of Mr. Spock, presented through the writings of Spock sharing with Jean-Luc Picard upto and including what his life has been to the Jellyfish that kicked off the new movies universe as he was lost in the multi-verse. It is a t’san a’lat if you like Vulcan, the book of the writer’s wisdom. What has been learned throughout the life lived, I ponder what each of our stories if shared as our wisdom, and gifted to a particular co-journeyer, as our journey came to a close would percolate in our communities?
Ever miss a meal?
It can be discombobulating, and we may not know why. Yes, there are the physiological responses of low blood sugars but is that all meals and eating are for? A way to get the fuel our bodies need? Are we simply a mechanical entity like our cars that need to gas up? Or is there more that happens? Personally, during covid, I can say I miss supper.
In our ancient stories, eating is something that was prevalent in the community life of Brother Jesus, it was where he showed God’s love, inclusion, welcome and connection–in essence belonging. Just look at how many times sharing food showed that all belonged?
Our stories tell us one of the last things Jesus did was gather with his friends, and share a meal, showed them and called them to love, the simple sharing of wine (we may use juice now) what I know as the cup of promise in belonging to community, and the bread, that is a source of life. Our fuel, in the midst of connection. This is part of what I miss, when I say I miss supper. Being together and sharing communion. I freely admit I enjoy liturgy (the work of the people, or rather the way the worship-community service is shaped in a church). I am also sacramental, and this speaks to the mysticism of communion for me. Yes, gathering online we have shared communion on those Sundays virtually, with our family unit…but there is something about gathering together physically, sharing together. For me, it is like a family dinner.
And what a family dinner, as you can see in the story, it is more than simply eating. In the midst of being together, we belong, we connect, it is almost mystical as labels evaporate.
This is what I miss in my own home, the bustle of supper. Family & friends coming together for large meals potluck style, kids friends over for dinner or sleepovers whether it was burgers or pizza or hot dogs, laughing together, gathering around our large dinner table and talking about the day. Being with each other. Or simply, knowing that when we are sitting down to eat as a family, which we do try to do each night, that if the doorbell rings, it is simply time to add another plate at the table and welcome in our neighbour, not worrying about restrictions or isolations.
Simply being able to eat together, be together.
As we look forward to more restrictions easing, more vaccinations happening, and the ability to be together outdoors, and soon indoors. Take a moment to do some soul care, and have supper with someone– an old friend or perhaps a new one you have yet to make.
A simple piece of soul care, by sharing a meal together.
Many moons ago, with a Rosary in my weary end of night shift hand in the sanctuary of a Roman Catholic church awaiting the weekday Mass, the still small voice would whisper to me “build my church”, it was an echo sentiment from years before, in a United Church, where I cam back to church as adult with my Nan, after presiding over the Sunday Service, and greeting faith family afterwards, the still small voice would simply say, “you are called”… To scant months before in my first service, where after singing in pre-sing my Granddad’s favourite hymn, the voice, his voice, would simply say “it’ll be alright”, Each of these instances are a piece of book one of three for my life. The book of laying the foudnations and preparing. Experiencing what it means to build the church. That is simply, to create the courageous safe space of connection, purpose and belonging for the beautiful mosaic that is our neighbourhood (the Imageo Dei)…
So many bumps along the road. Stories. Pieces of knowledge, ancient wisdom applied to the modern world, and modern wisdom working on the souls of many. Truly striving and stumbling to live out what home is, and having the true open door that I have been told has blessed many. But at my core, I am a simple story teller. That is the core of my parallel multi-career paths, and the core of the calling as book two opens…for what is the core of blessed community but the story of love and hope at its centre?
It is stories that have shaped my life, and still do. Many look at me weirdly in the academic, political and spiritual circles I exist in for the resonance I have to so many of our modern legends and mythologies. Not only the resonance, but how effectively they can be used as points of connection, intersection and discussion… so many ways to meet and understand neighbour. Whether it is the modern super hero stories (I am sure many know of the reflections shared around Spider-Man, X-Men, Batman, Superman, Flash, the list goes on and on) our modern pantheon of gods and demi-gods as found in anceint folklore and mythologies (which I also love). Or the more recent addition of Doctor Who? The Doctor an amazing story of constant curiousity, inspired problem solving, fun and, yes, new life (ah regeneration, since I went through my own health issues, and now into c-tine, it does so feel like a moment of regeneration?). To the inquisitive nature of Sherlock Holmes, the mysteries solved, and the importance of the right partners.
The Arthurian Legends, stories I so wanted to read as a child, and a system said I could not comprehend, and a Dad that said yes he can…and well, the copy of that hardcover from Smithbooks still resides on my bookshelf, never tell a child they can’t when an interest is shown. The wonder, magic and splendour of Camelot. The idea of quest, blessing, calling, and the connection/belonging of the Round Table. To the first movie I ever saw in theatres, Walt Disney’s Robin Hood, and the core truth that all have value, and every role in society is needed for us to be healthy, how easily power can corrupt (and I have seen it happen to far too many good people) for when power becomes the goal like with Prince John– well, the fact it is actually people involved is forgotten for the pursuit of gold (or is it oil?). When a season of life ended, I hope my team at that time understand the blessing of sharing that story book with each of them.
But a core story that has stayed with me throughout my life. From when there was the one night of the week as repeats aired on CBC, Star Trek. A true reflection for me, of what Brother Jesus taught our world was meant to be. Our universe, where all have equity, justice, equality, hope, can pursue who they are meant to be and we affirm the ideal you they are currently and are becoming. Where we aid others. Each of its iterations has brought a new era of story and contemplations into my life. From the Next Generation to Deep Space Nine to Voyager to Enterprise to (Kelvin) Star Trek movies to Discovery to Lower Decks to Picard…each piece introducing new characters, new allegories to our reality now and where we can be, what we can aspire to.
The re-connection to the stories, happened sharply over the last several years as I started to build myself back. As we unearthed, and healed the darkness, smudge and trauma that almost, yes, took my life, though it took me off of one path and opened up an epilogue/prologue upon a new path. A new story. My loving wife and kiddos that have journeyed through much, and we know eyes wide open what has been in all its diverse sorrows to joys, to what we know can be in a hope seen and soon to be lived.
See, for me, as I reflect back on the journey, the long road of getting here. Some may look at the hiccups, the setbacks, the loss, and say, why bother? Or didn’t so and so ruin your life…No they did not. I still remember the day in the early part of my PNES where a congregational cycle of prayer had my son make that statement as I had stepped away a few times from church based ministry to protect him from their heresy & ableism, as with other members of my family at other moments. For me it is about living love, and it is truly about discerning if there is authentic misunderstanding, or simply a desire for a quick apology so one’s own hates are not revealed on the altar for all to see.
But I digress, see there is an understanding that it is not a pollyanic view, especially in our polarized world where many akin the word Christian or Pastor to some device of hatred and exclusion. Or like in Star Trek V when they finally gound “god” and it was revealed to be nothing more than a monster in godcloaking:
Yet, here we are, a long road, some wear and tear, great learnings, lovings, and discoveries.
As was revealed earlier in the movie with the discussion of pain, and the need for the pain to emerge into who we truly are. So it is with each aspect of our life, all the ups and downs, sorrows and joys, losses and wins…they have shaped us…to be with others. To hear the authentic quite voice once more on this journey, one that others have heard.
“it is time to answer hope’s call”
Taking a risk, at this stage of the emegent chapter one of book two, prepared and now stepping in to the uknown. Accepted back to seminary as a student to complete my Master of Divinity. Awaiting the links to open up to apply for funding. To grow my skills, for my writing, community building, and to step back into ministry within the church. And maybe, perhaps, once settled to finish the journey that started with my Psy.D. to finally get my Doctor of Ministry.
To once more, be a pastor.
To aid others in being authentic communities of hope.
To discover honestly, what the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit is whispering to each of us to live out and transform our world for the better.
And yeah, it is one of the scariest steps in my life I have taken.
But also fills me with simply being
content.
A Monk's Musings 