Fem Speak

Bless me Mother, for I have sinned.

There are some drawbacks to being a protestant. Consequently, are some drawbacks to being a Baptist, because, of course, we Baptists are VERY protestant. We’ve been protesting so much and so long, we’ve protested away many of the spiritual traditions that were meaningful to Christians for centuries. Gone are the candles, the altar as we knew it, the holy water, and the sacraments. We are left with badly painted artwork, a giant organ if we are lucky, sloppily quilted banners, and wooden pews that leave no room for kneeling. We don’t get to experience God through touch, smell, sight, or taste. When we are baptized, or given communion, we are sternly reminded that it is “just a symbol” (don’t you get your hopes up and think you can experience God that way!)

 

From time to time, I do find myself missing the discipline of the ritual that the Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox enjoy and suffer. One of the things I found myself wishing for is confession. There are times when I feel so burdened by the daily hassles, embarrassments, conflicts, that I wish for just one hour, when I could sit down and TELL everything to someone who would listen quietly and acknowledge what I said, without minimizing it, denying it, exaggerating it, or fainting. And then, forgive me. Not solve my problems, not give me snake oil, not tell me what to do and how to do it – but simply say, “You know, your sins are forgiven. Go on you now.”

 

There is a power in simply telling to another person, and receiving absolution for all your inadequacies, sins, failures and mistakes. “Confess your sins to one another” – if that suggestion is inspired, how come we don’t do it?

 

Growing up, we see our parents as omnipotent. Our fathers (and mothers) form us, shape us, and mold us in ways neither they nor we fully grasp. Throughout our lives, we find ourselves longing for their approval and acceptance… and forgiveness.

 

The priest represents the father. The confession is a sacramental psychodrama. It reenacts what we are longing for in our lives – full and complete parental acceptance. In doing so, it teaches us about the nature of God – a perfectly accepting and loving Parent.

 

Then I realized that the names for what we want may change, but the sacraments are still there. We may not have confession, but we do have our Christian counselling centre. Maybe we don’t have the priests, but we have the therapists. We don’t buy indulgences – we have the centre user fees. It still works the same way, more or less. You enter that room, and you lay yourself on the couch, if you are into psychoanalysis, or you plop yourself into the chair… and for the next 50 minutes, it’s all about you. You get to talk about what you want, what you need to, and unload all of your inadequacies, fears, embarrassments, secrets, and sins. He or she will listen. Ask. Speak. Listen some more. But ultimately, in the end, give you a kind of absolution, in a culturally appropriate way, in a way that you will understand and be able to accept.

 

And ultimately, the therapist begins to represent one’s “mother” or “father” in the client’s mind. And over time, this symbolic relationship acts as a ritual and effects the transformation for the client. My psychology books call it “transference”.

 

The language changes, the sacraments say the same.

 

If you are at a point where you are coping with rejection, and disordered attachments, give the sacrament of counselling a try. Enter the little room, sit yourself down. You don’t have to say, “Bless me, mother, for I have sinned” – but I suppose you can, if you want to.

Galina Freed

 

Suicide Bombing: it's not just for political statements anymore.

Yes, it finally happenned. My beautiful City (Vancouver, BC) just had a suicide bombing a few days ago.

The man suicide-bombed the building where his ex-girlfriend lived. Fortunately for everyone, there were no fatalities, although a few small injuries did occur, and the building, apparently, was destroyed beyond repair.

I'm still scratching my head over this one. I lived in Israel for over a year. Suicide bombing for political reasons? That's very familiar. But, to settle a grudge with an ex? Isn't that a bit of an overkill? I mean what happenned to conflict resolution and therapy? This is Canada, for the love of ... we have free psychiatrists. 

Though now I am thinking - it's not as weird as it seemed at first. I remember the case that happenned right next to us back in Netania: a terrorist wielding an axe attacked and killed and maimed 4 random women. He was just fired from a job, and he decided to do something about it.

The trick for the terrorist organizations is to make it look political. So they recruit people with pathological rage, severe personal problems, convince them that they are "really" angry at X, Y, or Z, and give them a political target. Pathologically angry people with short attention span get to do the short-range, dramatic acts, like quick bus-stop suicide bombings. People who have delusions that can be sustained for a while are assigned to long-term missions (hijack airplanes, fly them into buildings - that sort of thing).

Fortunately for us, in Canada, the persons with pathological rage lack organization, indoctrination, and clear political goals. (Coincidentally, we also have a very small military.)

Galina Freed