JUST A FEW MONTHS AFTER THE LAST INSTALLMENT, EVERYTHING HAS GONE "PEAR-SHAPED". I am back attending the Church of God (Seventh Day), and I feel I have returned home again. It is a relief, and I finally feel safe, and loved again.
I'm going through the nightmares again, though. I can't believe it -- after all these years! And no, it isn't Mark Twain's scalded cat, who is afraid of even cold water. The more I found out about this particular Messianic group the more my own personal experiences with the leadership were borne out. Of course, each Messianic group is independent, so no one group should be seen as a reflection on any other, particularly not in what follows, which is completely at variance with the traditional Jewish ethic and practice.
It's not that I expected perfection from the leadership of this group. I didn't even really expect much attention. But when I was very ill, my cancer had returned, and the chemo I was taking was making me so ill I could often not even sit up, I heard nothing from the Messianic leader or any of the elders, though the members themselves were very concerned and loving.
Fact was, I had done a lot of work on their website, so I'd worked with the Messianic leader quite a bit by email over time, and generally, found the experience very frustrating for many reasons that don't bear going into here. The technical term for it is "passive-aggressive," though some people would just say "obstructive." At one point, my computer was broken, I was borrowing someone else's computer to work on their website, and I was short of money for groceries. Eventually, I had to beg for some help from their charitable fund, and I was given a long run-around that lasted a few weeks, and even then, I was avoided. The whole experience was humiliating and embarrassing. I'd upset them by daring to ask for a small honorarium for the website, since I couldn't work, and my Disability pension made things rather tight.
I was turned down for the honorarium, but given one cheque, and promised financial help for the next few months, to get through some of the worst of the winter, and told not to do the website anymore, which actually upset me, since it was one of the few things I had left that gave me a sense of accomplishment. Then, the next month, what was promised did not materialize, and I was avoided even more thoroughly. I was sick, and exhausted, and had to chase down the leader for an answer, and found out they'd changed their mind. It wasn't just the money, though I'd counted on it, and I wanted to be eating well before my next chemo, but how humiliated and degraded I felt.
Well, I had little choice, really: I "quarantined" myself, since my blood levels were dangerously low during the chemo, and I was very susceptible to infection, so I did not attend from the end of Sukkot until Hanukkah. In my mind, I thought I'd see how it went, if I could make it to the Hanukkah dinner.
I went, and I can't explain it, really, but something was just wrong with the whole atmosphere. I knew that several creative people who had planned great things for the event, or wanted to, had been denied the opportunity to do much more than the minimum, less-talented people higher up in the leadership held the limelight, and everywhere I looked, I saw the strain on the faces of the people who were putting heart and soul into this organization that was bleeding them dry in terms of time, effort, emotion, and spirit. There was just a toxic, nasty feeling pervading the whole event, and I realized I could no longer tolerate it. Being away from it had enabled me to see it with fresh eyes. The congregation was loving, caring, and many bore obvious signs of the Spirit of God, but I couldn't say the same for the leadership.
The people, themselves, on the contrary, over the years, had shown their love and concern in many concrete ways. They physically helped us move when we were evicted two weeks after my cancer diagnosis, offered moral support, called to see how I was doing when I was sick, bought us groceries now and then, or helped us out financially once in awhile, and one member even fixed my computer for me, bought me a new hard drive, and got me a new operating system for it on loan, since their finances were uncertain at the time. When I recently offered to pay it back in installments, he said he and his wife had decided to tell us to consider it a gift, as their finances were now stable, and they knew I didn't need the worry.
This is the true meaning of "charity," which is "love," and is primarily concerned with how the other person feels, making them feel cared for and loved. Of course, we know from James that to say empty words when people are in need of physical things is wrong; but to give money in such a way as to shame people or make them feel put down is also wrong. It is also against all Jewish tradition, and is a double shame for Messianic leaders, as these are things that they, as Jewish people, are part of their culture and ethical knowledge. To quote from one local Jewish (not Messianic) pamphlet regarding their own charity helping Jewish families in need, "Confidentiality, dignity, and respect are paramount to the [charity name]'s values." The Messianic movement is supposed to be rooted in a Jewish ethic, but the leadership of this group was neither raised in, nor trained in, the philosophical and cultural mores of Judaism, which teaches that embarrassing a person is akin to murder, and that the blushing or blanching of the face caused by such shaming is akin to "shedding blood."
Many Christian charities unintentionally tend to emphasize the physical help itself, rather than the manner of delivery, and how it makes the recipients feel. This is why Mother Theresa felt it necessary to write about the need not only to give physical assistance, but to do so with lovingkindness, to make a person feel cared for and important, and to guard against inadvertently making them feel humiliated, ashamed, or demeaned. Jewish charities, just because of the kinds of things emphasized in Jewish culture, have tended to be more aware of these issues. Messianic groups should definitely follow a Jewish model in these areas, because of this strength and clarity of vision.
I certainly cannot fault the people of the congregation for anything, except sometimes not knowing how to encourage me. This is understandable, though, as dealing with someone with a terminal illness is a very difficult task, even for professionals. Religious faith actually complicates the matter, and makes it more difficult to say and do the right thing, because what is happening seems to go against what one believes -- it is understandable that people would have trouble with it. To their credit, when I expressed my feelings in a "sharing" part of a service, about having scriptures quoted at me, or people trying to "explain away" my situation, people stopped.
Well, they stopped on their own, until the leader, who was going to welch on his promise of financial help, encouraged the women to give me just that kind of "emotional support" (scripture quotes and "cheer up") that I had expressly asked them not to do. This was particularly brutal and cruel on his part, as he had clearly heard my request, and deliberately went against it, adding pain to disappointment.
Even so, I was just going to slink away, and go back to my old congregation, and leave it at that. No one had contacted me anyhow, so I didn't think anyone would bother to follow up. I'd had an important CT scan that I'd been dreading, that would show how the cancer was responding to the chemo, but that was all lost in the shuffle. Even though the leadership claimed to be praying for me, no one ever asked how I was, or what was going on, so how could they even know what to pray about? I just shook my head. I was told by several people very close to various areas of the leadership that this neglect was done to everyone, and everyone who got close to the "inner circle" felt left out, exploited, frustrated, and unloved. But this was up to them to deal with: I was too exhausted to take this on. I wasn't even going to confront them on their broken promises or neglect.
The first Sabbath I returned to Church of God (Seventh Day), everyone was very concerned for me, and the pastor specially called for prayer regarding the upcoming results of my CT scan. Suddenly, I felt I mattered again, and the love washed over me. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it.
And that would be the end of the story, except that, since I had determined to leave the Messianics, and they'd known for a couple of months they'd need a new webmaster, I just thought I'd do a little cleanup of the site for the next person, and they'd take it from there.
Suddenly, the day before I had to go in to the cancer clinic for more testing, the Messianic leader sent me five or six large articles -- contaminated with the third virus he'd sent me in the last nine months -- just presuming that, since I'd done some recent work on the site, I was willing to continue. The fact that I was sick, and going back into treatment, didn't seem to faze him. The fact that he'd left us high and dry when we'd needed financial help seemed immaterial. Because I had to go into treatment, it took me a couple of days to clean up my computer from these infected files.
At that point, I came out roaring, and let him know exactly what I thought of his kind of "shepherding", and put his email address into my "kill file", so it would go straight into the Trash. Then I heard he'd made mention of it anonymously in a sermon (though it was easy for many people to guess who he was talking about, so I felt he'd broken pastoral confidentiality), but he'd seemed contrite, people said, so I thought I'd really better at least give him the opportunity to apologize.
I sent him an alternate webmail account he could use, and eventually he replied to me. His reply was a marvellous piece of work, and I fell for it, at first. He seemed apologetic, repentant, and I was ready to forgive him, though I knew I couldn't go back. Still, I thought, maybe as a visitor, once in a while...?
I even wrote a glowing reply, but, as is my habit, I let it sit for a few days, to review before sending. In that time, I had to call the landlord to get some advice about the furnace, and the first thing he asked me was, "How are you doing? How have you been feeling?" and the light bulb went on. In all the verbiage (2500+ words) the Messianic leader had sent me, not once had he asked how I was! My landlord was more concerned about me than my so-called pastor!
So, I took a deep breath, and tried to re-read the letter rationally, for what was actually said, and try to get past the smoke and mirrors. It was so hard, because I kept getting caught up in his emotional language, which automatically elicited sympathy. Finally, to get some emotional distance from it, I did a very rough statistical analysis of the contents. I did an automatic word count of each paragraph, summarized the theme of each paragraph, then put the content into a spreadsheet, where I calculated the percentage of space he'd devoted to each topic.
The general breakdown was: 77.4%, refusing responsibility through attack and defense; 20.7%, defending himself and the status quo through excuses and denials; 7.9%, website (gets more focus than illness); 6.3%, my illness used as an attack on my rationality and an excuse for his negligence; 5.6%, vague apology, does not touch on illness or contact, but website procedure; 0.8%, invitation; 0.5%, he is determined to go against my wishes he not pray for me; 0.1%, salutation.
This gave me the perspective to re-read his letter more carefully, and it was true that not once had he asked how I was doing, health-wise, and he did not apologize for how thoughtless his actions were, only for not following proper procedures (he was supposed to go through a particular intermediary). When I looked at it, I found he was essentially blaming me for nearly everything! It was my fault there was a breakdown in the relationship, because I was away, due to my illness! And more of the same. He bragged about how humble he was, and how everyone thought so, and what a merciful heart he had, as he proceeded to tear me to shreds, so he could defend himself and his neglect. Then, to punish me, he said until I straightened myself up, he wasn't going to let me do the website anymore! This, even though I'd been trying to get rid of it for months -- still, he must have sensed I might have lingering feelings for the work, and that would be one way to hurt me. Thankfully, while this had hurt me a few months ago, I was beyond that by now.
Well, it was a nuisance, and it took a lot of prayer, and consulting with a few wise friends, but I crafted a reply that said what needed to be said as succinctly as I could. I didn't respond to most points, just the overall thrust. I pointed out that he'd never asked what the results of my test were, though I'd told him I'd received them. It was clear his main interest in me was for any work I could do for them. But I did tell him that I forgave him.
I sent the necessary information to the new webmaster, and haven't heard from them since, though they did send a small cheque, whether as a guilt offering, or so they could say they continued to help me out despite my bad attitude, I neither know nor care. I just wanted him to ask me, "How are you doing? How did your tests turn out? Are you feeling OK?"
There's probably a few more nightmares I'll have to work through before I've dealt with this peculiar abandonment and neglect that has echoes of some old, old wounds that even go beyond Worldwide...personal betrayals, that kind of thing. Flashbacks I don't need. Or, maybe I do? Grist for the mill when next I see my counsellor.
More and more I appreciate the company of people who care about me, whether secular or religious, friends or family. More and more I appreciate the sweet aroma of the Spirit of God. "Taste the Lord, and see that He is good."
I'm reading Philip Yancey's "What's So Amazing About Grace?" and it's perfect for me, right now, since I need to completely forgive everything, and let all bitterness go. I've forgiven three or four times, now, each time thinking I was done, but bits of it come back to me. I just keep trying, and praying for the grace, and the bits keep getting smaller.
God will wipe this slate clean for me, and for everyone involved. Of course, I hope for justice, and understanding, and that those I have left behind will not have to continue to suffer, but that's out of my hands -- well, it never was in my hands -- it's in God's hands, where it always was. God is merciful, and has given me a new start for a new year, albeit the secular, Gregorian year, and not the sacred year. Still, new beginnings are always welcome, and not to be despised.
This Sabbath, God willing, I will do a "special," and recite Gerard Manley Hopkins' "The Windhover: to Christ Our Lord." Let all that is in me praise Him.
(I did the recitation, and it felt good, and others were appreciative, and felt blessed by it.)
It's been a few months, and we're now in the middle of Passover, which I observed with the Church of God (Seventh Day), who call it "The Lord's Supper," but I see it as more a semantic difference than anything; some other friends also attended as guests. On the Night to Be Much Observed, I even saw an old friend I hadn't seen for more than 15 years! For the First Day of Unleavened Bread, a few of us got together at a friend's place, went over the appropriate scriptures, had good food and drink, and enjoyed fellowship and interesting conversation. I feel blessed to be able to keep up, or re-establish, contact with people of like mind and spirit, even though some of us differ on various doctrinal points. Such things become less important than good fellowship, and rightly so, I think.
