Love is a Right-Brained Thing

 I happen to be a person (I know, I'm stating the obvious. But I'm going somewhere).

A person in a nuclear family - where I am the wife and Mom. 

I also once came from a family where I was the daughter and sister.

And families teach us things - about who we are, who we are in relationship, who we are in the world.



And families, no matter how independent we each think we are, shape and influence how we see ourselves and our relationships and our identity, our honor and esteem, our worth and dignity. We all come from some family system - I'll venture to say - even if we are raised in an institution or in some non-traditional structure. We form a 'self-concept' from those around us - our closest relationships tell us who we are, in essence.



And somewhere along the way, our family - my family now, and my family before, has told me what it is to feel shame. This is not unique to my family, nor to yours. I believe it is universal. We develop a code - often unwritten and unspecified, that is downloaded through nuance, hinting, gesture, things that are said and things that are not said. And the shame is felt by everyone, and some want to address it, and some don't want to, and most don't want to name it or call it shame, and everyone hopes to avoid it, because shame feels crappy. There, I said it. Shame simply sucks. It sucks to feel it, to endure it, to see it, be exposed to it. It just is that way. There's no way around it.

Shame happens.


I don't claim to be an expert on shame, nor have I studied it extensively. Mostly I've just lived with it within myself, often not seeing it, often not noticing that that's what is there. But surely, it's there. Isn't it there in each of us in some way? At this point I know you're waiting for the Christianese part of this to unfold: But Jesus takes away our shame!! Uh, yeah, absolutely He does. I could spend a lot of time unpacking this in a biblical and theological framework - and that is worthy work. But for now, in this moment, I want to stick with lived experience. Because how is it all that helpful to skip ahead to the answer ("Jesus takes away my shame.") when the actual experience of an issue remains unexplored? It is like reading the end of the story without feeling the angst of the protagonist. It simply is not the way, my friend.




Within our formative concepts we come into an understanding of self - and ideally it would include wonderful and affirming insights like, 'I am God's workmanship! He's proud of what He made in me! I delight Him as His creature! My family simply adores me because I am part of who they are! Even when I let others down, they surround me with support, kindness and care, because I am inherently valuable to them!"

Sadly, this is most often not the way of things. In other words, most of us are shaped by shame. Because most often the messages we get from our formative life is more like, "Here's the kind of person we accept in this household: a responsible one. A person who follows these rules. A person who conforms to our expectations. We don't talk about certain things. We keep negative emotions in check. You will be affirmed when you bring this community honour. You are a means to an end, and the end is how we look to others, or even how we can grow in self-approval." No one spells it out like this. But this is what it amounts to, basically.


Somehow in this kind of societal shaping, we learn that rules are good for us, that following them wins us invisible points somehow and that we can succeed if we have the formula and follow it. 

And this is not entirely a bad thing. I mean, I want there to be some rules in society, to some degree. Basic decency and courteousness and procedure work well in societies where people know the general rules. I'm not against rules, per se. I'm just much more into grace, authenticity, realness, honesty, acceptance and collaboration in working with people and rules. I guess rules standing alone make me a bit uncomfortable. What about user failure? I wonder. What about the things the rules can't anticipate? What about the unpredictability of human nature? Rules don't see these dynamics. Rules are actually inhuman.

And I happen to be human. Remember, I said at the opening: I am a person. I told you I was getting somewhere...and the place I was getting is that:  I am a person in relationship. I am a person in relationship to me. To my family, to my society (and yes, to God). But I suppose on some level I am a person in relationship to rules, expectations and in relationship to my own reactions to such. I am a person who carries shame - a direct result of my relationship to rules (valid or otherwise).


So, now let me get to the Bible and theology part, because I'm guessing you're expecting that (see how quickly I pick up on what's expected?! I can't get away from it!!)

Of course I read and ponder and sit with my soul with God with questions. (Doesn't everyone? Ok, maybe everyone doesn't, so I'll just let you peek behind my thought-curtain for a moment to see what it's like).

I say, 'Oh Lord, I see myself. I see You. I see what You're saying in Your Word, and sometimes I'm just blown away. Like this here in Matthew 13. Here you're talking in parables to your guys and the crowds, and they're like, 'hey, what's up with this? Why can't you just tell us plainly what you mean?!' And then You say, 'Oh no, I've got to mask what I'm saying in case people who aren't ready for this message just take it and run with it and don't really get it at all.' Ok, God, why do you do that? I mean, you kinda explained it, but I still think just simple straightforward this=that wouldn't be so bad. But I guess what do I know about imparting wisdom that will last the ages?'

Yes, this is really what it looks like when I pray. It is not super formal and proper. Mostly.

So I was reading Matthew 13 and I see that Jesus is using parables and sometimes they make sense and sometimes they don't and sometimes it leaves me puzzled. And sometimes he explains it more fully, and sometimes he doesn't. 

In the Old Testament God gives His people instructions: do this, don't do that. And linear people who love formulas kinda are ok with this form of religion: just tell me what to do and I can check the box and continue to manage my life knowing I did what you wanted, God!

But even in the Old Testament, even though God did lay out His expectations, rules and formulas for people, He still functioned in relationship with His people on a whole other level. It wasn't just about rule-following. It was essentially about love.

Jesus speaks in parables to gather those to Him who have a hunger and thirst for Him. And to confound those who are just looking for a system. Those looking for a mechanism, a system, a formula, would find his stories confusing. Jesus knew this, and intentionally spoke in what might have appeared to be confusing riddles.

He even quotes Isaiah saying, "they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn, and I would heal them."


I was struck with these order of events: seeing, hearing, understanding, turning, and healing.

It's no secret that I'm on a lifelong quest for healing. Not some lifelong illness (though perhaps there is that). But really healing of the soul - the wounds, the ache, the longing, the suffering. Healing comes up so many times in Scripture and we tend to only see the surface parts of healing related to physical illness. And often physical illness is what the focus is, granted. But in this instance, as Jesus talks about why He speaks in parables, he mentions this passage and it references healing. What does healing have to do with parables? What does healing have to do with listening to Jesus? What does healing have to do with understanding with my heart? What does healing have to do with my action of turning? (I presume, turn to God). 


Parables are like magnets. But it takes a right-brain to switch on the magnet.

It is left-brained, linear to go to the 10 commandments and say, 'Ok, here's how I can relate to God. Just give me the list. I'll do my best.'

It's left-brained, straightforward thinking to say, 'Jesus, just tell me in simply. Quit with the stories. I just need to know what you're asking of me.' 

And Jesus doesn't comply. He doesn't play by our rules.

He says, 'I'm going to tell you a story. The Kingdom of heaven is like....' and on He goes. 

It takes a child's wonder and curiosity to enter a story. So he says, 'Unless you become as a little child...'



It takes a suspension of rule-seeking and formula-questing to sit and ponder a story. 

Parables are right-brained things. It takes certain eyes to catch their meaning: eyes to see, ears to hear, hearts to understand.

In our hearts we 'get' certain things that simply aren't explained, right? Like, you can tell me a thousand times over to love someone and I can try my best. I can really do all the things, make all the choices and actions it takes to show I am loving someone. But when a wounded puppy yelps and I scoop it up, I don't need a formula for the warmth of compassion that sweeps over me.  When a baby whimpers to be held and comforted, no-one needs to show me the rules of love, what it means in this moment. When my child has a meltdown because of some significant loss or disappointment, even though I may be stressed out myself and ticked off and mad about how they're reacting, I can also, in that moment tap into a non-linear empathy that simply says, 'They hurt; I care; I will love'. For all the will-gritting-my-teeth-choose-to-love mantras that are out there, love is simply sometimes only and exclusively a right-brained thing: it can only be understood with the heart.



And my heart may be calloused. It may be wounded, unhealed, unwhole. And the parables may confound me. But Jesus says they are to be understood with the heart. They are confusing on purpose. Jesus refuses to be pigeon-holed into our rigid shame-preserving mechanisms. Yes, Jesus comes to take our shame. But how does He do it? Yes, there's the cross and the wonder of the Gospel that so profoundly depicts the depth and cost of Jesus taking our shame. But even before all that we see Him lowering Himself to enter our world as one of us and to teach us what it means to see with different eyes. To break free from the rigid demands that perpetuate shame. Maybe Jesus takes our shame, in part, by opening up the option of understanding with our heart, instead of all the rule-keeping that only served in one function: to prepare our hearts for grace. The Law is holy and good: it deepens our hunger for Love and grace. The Law itself is a gift: given for the preservation of a people and to introduce us to this holy God we long to know more fully.

I'm not saying God's laws are pointless. I have a deep appreciation for the mysteries of God in giving the laws that He has. (In part because I love the God Who gave them).

What I am saying is that Jesus invites us to know Him in a different way. To experience His kingdom through new eyes. To enter the non-linear pathway with Him at our side.

This is a courageous adventure.

There's no turning back.

Comments

  1. Well-spoken hope-filled gritty truth for the courageous!
    Anne

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Anne! Hoping to be counted as 'courageous' on some level :D

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