The Problem With Words

 

The Healing Time (By Pesha Gertler)

Finally on my way to yes

I bump into

all the places

where I said no

in my life

all the untended wounds

the red and purple scars

those hieroglyphs of pain

carved into my skin, my bones,

those coded messages

that send me down

the wrong street

again and again

where I find them

the old wounds

the old misdirections

and I lift them

one by one

close to my heart

and I say holy

holy.

 

There have been times in my life when I have recited this poem as a mantra. And yet, I still seem to forget 'those coded messages that send me down the wrong street again and again.' I was thinking about those coded messages yesterday at my local UU service when the board member who read the announcements reminded us that ours '…is a liberal religious congregation that nurtures lifelong spiritual development…' Liberal. I imagined my dear friend and occasional sparring partner sneering this word through clenched teeth. I am never quite sure of how he can value our friendship but have such a strong distaste for my values. Though, I know that the distaste is more for the way we use language to describe those values. And so, rather than preparing myself for an hour of community and refining my own spiritual development, I fretted about that word.

Yesterday's service was a joyful celebration of our minister's return from a five month sabbatical. In typical fashion, she got the congregation singing and clapping through the opening hymn. I forgot completely about the divide between liberal and conservative, us and them, believers and non-believers. The celebration was in full swing and I was right there with it, worries about divisions and finding words to explain and justify my own beliefs were put away. For a few moments, I was engrossed and completely part of this community. But such blissful union seems short lived in this languaged world of ours. During the portion of the service we call "Joys and Concerns," a newcomer stepped up to the microphone and said 'The Creator sent me here today…' Now, I grew up with language like that and I think I read this code well. It says 'I know something that you don't… I am chosen, blessed, forgiven…. I have the right and responsibility to judge and make right in the name of…..' How many fears and old wounds can one moment hold? Too many. In the span of just six words spoken by a somewhat tremulous petit woman, all of my fears and defenses were activated. A vision of that UU congregation in Tennessee flashed to mind. Could she be toting a gun? Or just words to attack and wound? Friends, I often am able to use my own understanding of a more conservative and traditional Christian faith to translate and bridge the divide between faiths. I pride myself on understanding that language and being able to remain open to the loving messages there. But if I am to be honest, there was no bridge being built in that brief moment of personal panic.

And then she went on. She explained that she was about to undergo a procedure to repair a brain aneurysm and was looking for comfort and community. She felt that she had come to the right place yesterday morning. And so she had. She was seeking just what I was seeking; companionship, joy, singing, reassurance. And I might be a resource for some of what she needed… Imagine. A fellow human being, afraid and yet courageous enough to share her need with a roomful of strangers. And six small words of introduction had put me into a small panic. After the service I sought her out to share some of my own experience with the wonders of modern medicine. My own mother gradually recovered from a ruptured brain aneurysm. It wasn't something she should wait for. Trusting the medical community to care for her was very likely a risk worth taking. I promised to hold her in my heart. I do, and I will. I hope that my words were some small balm for her. More, though, is the gift of awareness that she offered to me.

I work with words. They are my tool for healing and bridging gaps between people. There are times when I think of myself as quite clever and then… Something reminds me that the words that come out of my mouth may or may not land as I intend them too. So often, others hear judgment, commands, threats. Solid walls where a door was intended. Agreements, accords, contracts, letters, invitations, friendly reminders…. We create so many carefully constructed piles of words to clarify our meanings… but meaning gets lost so easily. And, here, I use words to set my own feet, mind and soul on the right path. Whatever that may be. May my words be gentle today and may I remember to bring my entire being into the conversation. Holy, holy.