"Healing Family Relationships"

Liturgical Materials for Sunday the 9^th of January 2000

Mark Belletini, Minister First Unitarian Universalist Church of Columbus, Ohio

Opening Words [Next] [back to top]

We are here
in this simple house of glass and wood and brick
to gather in power, with blessings and alleluias,
that we might celebrate everything that was and is and shall be
with story, silence, sensitivity and song.
With our hope flowing like a stream in a thaw,
and our struggling love made strong by that hope,
we enter this hour in peace and for peace,
companions in wonder, mystery and heritage.

The First Reading [Next] [back to top]
is the poem "A Catechism" written by the poet William Stafford in 1982.

Who challenged my soldier mother?
Nobody.
Who kept house for her and fended off the world?
My father.
Who suffered most from her oppressions?
My sister.
Who went out into the world to right its wrongs?
My sister.
Who became bitter when the world didn't listen?
My sister.
Who challenged my soldier sister?
Nobody.
Who grew up and saw all this and recorded it
and kept wondering how to solve it but couldn't?
Guess who.

The Second Reading [Next] [back to top]
includes two small stories from the Gospelbook of Mark, written by an anonymous author sometime after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in the year 70 CE.

Then he returned home. Once again, the crowd gathered round him in such numbers there was no chance for either him or his students to even catch a meal. His family members heard the commotion and came over to put a stop to it all, since they were convinced that he was out of his mind.

One day his mother and his brothers and sisters came. They stood outside his house and sent word to him that they wanted him to come outside and talk with them. There was a group of people sitting with him at table when he received the request. "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside asking for you."

He answered, "And just who is my mother? Who are my sisters and brothers."

Then, glancing at every person sitting at table with him, he said, "Those gathered here are my sisters and brothers and my mother. Whoever is good is my family."

The Third Reading [Next] [back to top]
is almost shorter than the title of the book I found it in, namely, "I Never Promised You A Rose Garden." by Hannah Green, 1964

"Health is not simply the absence of sickness."

Sermon: Healing Family Relationships [Next] [back to top]

Last week I started off the sermon talking about my grandfather Umberto Galli; this week, I need to speak about him again.

Back in August of 1975, my parents threw a going-away supper for me. I was about to move to California to attend seminary, which was, in my Italian American family, a "Very Big Thing." The very idea of being two thousand miles away was far more upsetting to my family than the fact that I had changed religions. So I knew that this supper would end with deeply emotional good-byes to my four grandparents, good-byes that would be of Shakespearian proportion.

I confess I dreaded the hour, for I loved my grandparents with a deep and abiding love, and knew I would miss them above all else in Michigan.

Now some of you will remember from last week that my grandfather Galli took a lot of time to teach me about my Italian heritage and culture. This was an important time in my life, which has shaped my character to this day. He also, on my eleventh birthday, did something else which affected me greatly. As he was leaving my house after my birthday dinner, he told me that it was time that we stopped kissing and embracing when we met or said good bye. He said: "You are growing up into a young man now, and men do not kiss, they shake hands."

I was dumbfounded. He held out his hand. Knowing I had no choice, I reluctantly held out my own. But I didn't like it one bit. And I never liked it thereafter, because all of a sudden I realized what being "grown up" meant. To become an adult was to give up the capacity for ordinary affection. It was a sad day for me, and I wondered if "growing up" could be so wonderful if that was the cost. Maybe, I reasoned, Peter Pan had the best idea…to never grow up at all was preferable.

But nonetheless, of course, I grew into an adult, and at age 25 chose to move to California to attend graduate school. And as the farewell party came to an end, and my mother's parents got up to go, I watched my grandmother's face turn into a Picasso painting, with her features all distorted by her tears and grief. She at least kissed me, and held me.

Then I stuck out my trembling hand toward my grandpa. He looked me in the eye, as if he was shocked that I was about to shake his hand. Suddenly his eyes brimmed with tears, and he grabbed me and kissed me and held me close, and he whispered in my ear, "I have been a fool every since you were 11 years old. I should never have pushed away the chance all these years to embrace you and show you that I love you."

You would be correct if you calculated that my own tears at that moment doubled.

And from that very day until his death, my grandfather could only imagine embracing and kissing me when we met.

Now, all the tears and drama I describe may seem strange to some folks here. Let me tell you why I think that may be.

Not long ago I was talking to my good friend and colleague Jane Rzepka, asking her about her recent trip to Venice. Little by little, as it usually does, the conversation turned to an exchange about the sermons we were working on.

Turns out, she was working on a sermon on healing family relationships just like me.

She asked me, "Do you think your family was dysfunctional?"

I said to her, "Who knows? I do know that one of the things I intend to proclaim in my sermon is this joke-definition which my friend Doug shared with me:"

"A dysfunctional family is any family in which there is more than one person."

"Actually, Jane," I said to her, "I get a bit testy when I hear that over-used word 'dysfunctional.' An awful lot of people these days talk about it as if the 'dys' in front of the word 'functional' means 'not', you know, as in 'not functional.' Or even 'bad' as in 'functioning terribly.'"

But in fact, folks, the Greek prefix "dys" means simply "apart" or "different." In later English, "dys" came to mean "bad" because….and this is tragic I think…for many of us, what is different is bad. This is the root source of all the racism, religious hatred, ethnocentrism, and gender and sexual prejudice I can think of.

I do think a dysfunctional family might be described as one that functions differently from, apart from, the way many other families function. My family did a lot of things differently from other families near by because we were shaped by Emilian Italian culture, which has its own unwritten rules about feelings, expectations, and edges. My parents did indeed expect different things from me than did my friends' parents, but it was not because they were deranged or hopelessly cruel.

Then I told Jane the same story I just told you about my grandfather.

She said, "Your family and my family had the exact opposite culture. Your family expected you to stay close geographically, and were dramatically weepy when you left. My mother, on the other hand, would have started getting frustrated if I had stayed geographically close. In my family we were all expected to leave the nest and move far away and learn and grow on our own. We both grew up, I think, in relatively healthy families, but families which functioned very differently."

Now you may be thinking, what do these stories have to do with healing family conflicts? Belletini can't be saying that family conflicts are just cultural misunderstandings, can he?

And you may be thinking, some of you at least, "We need to hear stories about real conflicts, conflicts between mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. We want you to talk about conflicts that leave deep wounding in their wake, painful memories, grudges, and behavior that drives us up right up the wall. We want you to address something substantive…blunted expressions of love, betrayals, and other miseries."

Of course. I intend to address some of these tougher miseries. But I had to make something absolutely clear at first. Families are all different. Period. There is no such thing as a "normal" family. Every single family works with unspoken rules and patterns of culture or blended cultures most of which they are unaware of. Whatever good or ill flourishes in any family will happen despite these realities, not necessarily because of them.

I am convinced there are few families indeed on this earth which do not require some healing attentions.

And you don't have to look at modern stories in this post-Freudian era either, stories like the poet William Stafford's bleak summary of his family life, with "a soldier mother" and "a bitter sister." You can even go back to the history of sainted figures in the world's sacred traditions. Does anyone here actually imagine that when Siddartha Gotama left his wife and child to go off and find his Path, there were no serious consequences to his family? Do you imagine there was no conflict in the family of Jehanne Tarc, whom we call Joan of Arc? Do you think her father and mother and siblings were cheering her on, saying, "Go ahead, get yourself charred to death at age 19 by acting like an idiot and having visions of St. Michael and St. Margaret in the backyard tree. We support you fully." And then there are those two stories told about Jesus in the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus' blood family---his mother and his siblings-- clearly thinks he's off his rocker because he is going around teaching without a diploma, and where Jesus appears to return the favor by identifying his own friends and students as his "real" family. Whether these stories are literally true or not I cannot say for sure, but it is true that the people who told these stories within actual living memory of the teacher must have thought family conflict was completely normal… even for great prophets.

And I agree. Family conflict is completely to be expected.

Moreover, conflict is not wicked or bad. And conflict handled fairly can be a well paved road to health in the family.

And, just as Hannah Green reminds us that physical health is not just the absence of sickness, so family emotional health is not just the absence of conflict. True family healing means more than finding solutions to conflicts…it means finding ways to deepen relationships in the family and restore greater trust and affection…even love.

But before I talk about the healing that is fair fighting, I want to talk about addressing the healing that comes from deep wounds made long ago...interpersonally.

Let's say mother was moody, as much as you say she was. Or "a soldier," using the poet's metaphor. Let's say dad was fiercely angry at the drop of a hat. Let's say sis is a biting, sarcastic alcoholic, and brother a swaggering liar. Or let's say aunty eats self-pity for breakfast and spits out bile at supper, or uncle blames everybody else for all of his problems. Let's say dad was never there, or mom was too much there, smothering and controlling perhaps. Let's say everyone pretended that everything was OK, even though it wasn't. Let's say that conformity ruled, shame dictated, and anger judged.

All right. It's all true. It all happened. But in order for healing to begin, in order for forgiveness to even begin to make sense, the full context has to be sought out and understood.

1.The Physical.

A good friend and I were talking once about a friend of hers who was once famous for her bouts of rage. Her anger was legendary, and she made a point of telling you that she at least thought of her outbursts as "healthy expression." Trouble was, everyone around her was left in bloody pieces on the ground, completely decimated.

Then she goes to the doctor for a check-up at age 45. The doctor notes that there is something wrong with her thyroid. She starts taking medication. And now, don't you know, her outbursts have ended. She no longer explodes. She still gets annoyed, yes, but her annoyance is more proportionate. The thyroid problem was the clear source of her volcanic temper. A gland made her mad.

It seems to me that only a fool would insist on continuing to lift any wound inflicted by such a temper as a badge of righteous honor once this physical reality was taken into account. It might even lubricate the rough progress of forgiveness.

And note, all of us, without exception, are physical beings. We each are subject to the peculiar chemistries of our own bodies. These chemistries are as much the source of our behavior as our environment….often more so.

Not to take such realities into account …especially the physical basis of so much alcoholism and so many drug thralls, is to take some sort of perverted pleasure in our wounds.

Jane Rzepka and I have often noted that in families where abuse, alcoholism and rage ran the roost, the children in those families often have different responses when they get older. One is bitter, with lots of acting out, and with giant chips on his or her shoulder, and convulsions of terrible pettiness in day to day life.

Others, who had the exact same experiences, grow up to live open, healthy lives, as if all that commotion and terror left no scars or tattoos on the spirit.

How could that be? Jane and I agreed that at least part of the reason can be traced to "chemistry." Some of us probably just find it naturally tougher to let go of hurts, and others find it naturally easier. To pretend that all human beings are basically alike is, as far as I am concerned, an affront to our several humane theologies. We simply are not all alike. We are different in our brains, bodies and chemistries. And whatever healing we come to will have to take that into account at the very least.

And furthermore, drugs and alcohol are chemicals that affect behavior drastically. Whenever there is a family conflict, always check out carefully if any of these are involved. I think you may be surprised how often they are.

2. The Real Limits

Sometimes, family conflicts are so huge, so long standing and stubborn, that there can never be any full "reconciliation" for us in any final and mutual sense. I know this may not sound like a very cheery thing to say, but I don't think that refusing to say it would benefit anyone. It seems to me much healthier in such a case to cut the losses and create new, non-blood family, than it is to stubbornly think that you can save the day. No one, not even you, may have the power to bring healing to some families in a mere lifetime.

Or, sometimes, the family member with whom we have had a long conflict dies or disappears before we can repair the breach.

Worse, sometimes the person is still alive, but is con-vinced there is nothing further to discuss, and refuses every approach we make, however skillful. And, worst of all, sometimes the denial on the other side is so great they don't even think that there is a conflict, never has been, and that the fault lies with you, because you are just "too sensitive."

In such cases, the healing comes from simply recognizing that the full scale healing we desire will just never come about. It may not seem like it right now, but simply saying that aloud plainly does have some restorative power…for our own heart, if not for the relationship.

Sometimes, and this is very sad, the only healing available to us is to never see the person again, or more likely, to say directly to the person with whom there is no hope of reconciliation, "I do not believe we can ever be in right relationship again. I do not think it is possible for me to rebuild trust, even in a life time. I am sorry."

These should be, and most often are, rare occurrences. But this does not mean they should not be brought up.

But despair not. Any healing we come to, even if it seems more partial than we once desired, is good. Why?

Because grudges, and resentments, and bitterness are all heavy weights. They weigh far more than the proverbial ton. Carrying them around the rest of our lives is just plain exhausting, and will wear us out before our time.

And, even if full reconciliation is not possible, there are at least some exercises we can do to help us set down the heavy weights we clutch at.

Sometimes, for example, and many of you have done this, we can write a letter to someone who is dead, or foolishly stubborn. It's a letter you never mail, obviously, but in it, you state everything you need to say, not vengefully, but holding as close to the truth as you can. Then you fold up the letter, put it in an envelope set aside for that purpose, and stick it in a drawer you use for nothing else. It is not a magic trick exactly, but it does help sometimes to remember that your resentment is there in that drawer. It helps you to remember that it need not be weighing your heart down to the ground.

So, to begin to heal family relationships, you have to take into account the physical, first; the honest limits, second; and finally, you have to take into account

3. The Human Situation.

Parents, as you well know, are not given manuals on good and healthy parenting skills at the hospital. Husbands and wives are given no sensible rule books at the church or synagogue, and all sons and daughters have to figure out sonship and daughtership without so much as a clue.

Who knows what it means to be a son, a mother, a grandparent, an uncle, a wife, a daughter, or a cousin? Do you think there is some authentic definition hiding out somewhere? I assure you, you are utterly wrong if you think so.

And some of the wiseacres who have taken it on themselves to write guidebooks make things all the worse. J. B. Watson, back in the 20's, wrote a very influential parenting tract. In it, he suggested that mothers should never kiss or hug their sons or daughters, because "mother-love is a dangerous instrument---which may wrench your adult son's or daughter's vocational future" (this is Watson talking, not me), " and ruin their chances for marital happiness." If any worse drivel has ever been written, I don't know about it.

Yet many parents took this man's word as wisdom in the 20's, and withheld affection. Modern scientific studies in Europe, in American, and among the !Kung in Africa etc. all show the exact contrary to be true right across the cultural landscape…parental petting and hugging and all healthy ways of showing affection to a child seem to give the children far greater self-confidence in later life.

I tell you this to underline a point. I am telling you now that very few are the parents who get up in the morning and say with perverse glee and an evil glint their eyes, "Gee, I wonder, how might I wound my child today." Few alcoholic fathers imagine that their passive-aggressive sarcasm is actually worse than a strap. Instead, they may "lovingly rationalize" they are making their children stronger, ready to face the difficulties and betrayals of adult life. Or, worse, they may have experienced this kind of parenting themselves, and think that hemming in your kids this way is how parenting looks. But I personally find it hard to believe that people are so willing to believe that other people viciously set out to hurt them, or that parents and sibs should just plain know better how to behave.

Why? Who might have taught them that?

I say most of us do the best we can with the limited, confusing and unclear tools we have. I know there are exceptions, of course, but in the end, they remain just that, exceptions.

Thus far I have said 1. No family conflict can begin to be healed unless we pay due respect the physical realities. 2. Human limits are real, and it may make things far worse sometimes if we don't just count our losses and move on. And 3. There are no reliable guidebooks; all people are fallible; and thus, few wounds are intended or strictly malicious. And although that knowledge does not magically heal wounds…a wound is a wound, after all…it does allow the healing process to begin because we have lowered our way too high expectations.

But having given due attention to these parameters, how can we actually get to the process of healing things between members of a family? What do we have we to do? Permit me to conclude by offering 10 brief suggestions.

1. Do not rely on time all by itself. Time does not always heal. In fact, sometimes time seals the wound into a permanent breach. Waiting around till some other person in our family just comes round to seeing things our way shows right off the bat that we are not interested in healing, only in being right and righteous at the same time. And such an attitude will hardly promote healing.

2. It does not seem likely to me that any conflict in any family can be healed without talking or some other real form of communication. There is no such thing as telepathy or mind reading. So all issues must be stated clearly and precisely aloud, separated out as much as possible from the wake of feelings they create. (However, using devious phrases, like "You know what I mean…" and "But what would Aunt Martha think?" are signs that you have decided to quit before you even get started.)

3. Make sure the issues are real, not symbolic. If the fight is symbolic of something else going on in the relationship, don't address the symbols, address the reality. This may take some real meditation on your part before you begin. For example, if you say you are upset about the frequency of your sex life, whereas what you really mean is that you no longer feel any sense of the emotional intimacy that might lead to a more frequent sex life, then you had better talk about the intimacy, first, and not the frequency of sex. Always address the realities. The symbols, I assure you, will take care of themselves.

4. Avoid using the word "you" when talking to the other person. Describe, instead, your own feelings. (And note, this does not mean the devious sentence construction "I feel that you are making me feel such and such." Heaping blame on anyone has nothing at all to do with healing. If you enjoy blaming, don't even dare to expect healing. You don't want it as much as you want your own innocence.)

5. Stick to central issues. Don't bring up everything that irritates you in one fell swoop. That just diffuses the attempt at healing into something too weak to accomplish anything.

6. Ask yourself…what is the motive behind your desire to heal the broken relationship in your family? Is it really reconciliation, the setting down of a terrible weight? Or is it to justify yourself? Or fulfill your own prediction about how it won't work? Do you really want deeper, more honest communication, or are you working rather to keep from having it, or to exert your control?

7. And what is your part in the conflict? Do you tend to see the glass as half empty, while the other person sees things half full? Are you interested in defending your own way of looking at the world, or can you indeed live with the other person remaining faithful to who they are for the most part?

8. Never stack the deck. Don't say, "Why are you always like this?" or "Why are you so defensive when I bring these things up." This is not healing, folks, it's just more a new battle being waged in the same old conflict.

9. Never rush. Few are the conflicts that can be healed or resolved in a single session.

10. Never assume that you can magically intuit the motivations of the other party. Listen for authentic data. Go back and ask questions to get the facts. Make sure you are even talking about the same things. Get to know the real differences and do not pretend they are false, imaginary or unimportant.

11. Don't over-invest, or make things worse by making conciliatory statements you offer just to relieve the tension but which you do not really mean. Don't look for quick compromises. Compromises may be valuable, but they rarely come quickly. Stay in the tension as long as you can…if you have to leave it, schedule another conversation, do not treat your own needs as disposable just to avoid the tension.

These ten suggestions are brief, but I have always found them helpful when I pay attention to them.

Hurts and conflicts in our families do not just go away; they must be addressed. And in the end, real family health is not the absence of unending conflict, but the presence of something great in the midst of any conflict, something I dare to call by the great word Love.

Thus, I want to have my grandfather Umberto have the last say. Do you remember what he said to me?

"I should never have pushed away the chance to embrace you and show you that I love you." That sums it up. None of us ever should push away the chance, when it is proper and right, to embrace each other, and show each other that we do indeed love and care for each other.

Prayer: Praise for the Days to Come [back to top]

Praise! Tomorrow is unformed clay.
Praise! Tomorrow is a breath untaken.

Praise! Nothing is ever completed in a lifetime!
Praise! For a deeper love than any we know now
is forever possible.

Praise! Yesterday is a breath breathed out.
Praise! Yesterday hand may be lifted
from tomorrow's clay.

Praise! Life is a gift ever being unwrapped.
Praise! Life is only life when it is not finished.
Praise! Healing is good.
Praise! Healing is possible.
Praise! The word Alleluia is not yet worn out.
Praise! The present moment is all we have.
Praise and amen!

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