In
Matthew
9:36, in the King James Version of the Bible, it says that Jesus
looked out upon the multitudes, and He felt compassion for them. In
describing how He felt, Matthew says that they were like sheep
without a shepherd and were wearied
by their situation, lacking the protection of a caretaker which
sheep, in particular, happen to need very much.
he
was moved with compassion on them,
because
they fainted,
and
were scattered abroad,
as
sheep having no shepherd.
We
don't tend to use the word “scattered” that much in our common
English, save for when we talk about something that gets dispersed
over a wide area. However, in that King James English, the word for
“scattered”
isn't used to describe dispersal but rather to explain how one can
cast something down with carelessness and abandon. Today, this kind
of scattered would be more appropriate to describe how one throws
trash. Might we say that Jesus looked out at the people and saw
precious, wonderful creatures in whom no one saw enough value to tend
to their many needs? Here we see a deeper meaning of what it is to
be a sheep with no shepherd. People are no longer people, but are
objects of no value and are abandoned.
I also
cannot help but think of the trauma that one often goes through after
spiritual abuse. When you get away from your demanding religious
group, you feel “scattered,” too. The work of healing from
trauma is often called “integration,” because one has to take all
aspects of their experience, make peace with it, and then “move
through it.” You tend to feel alienated from the good aspects of
your life and your self, just because the pain feels so huge. Some
people get stuck in the anger phase of this grief and never emerge
from it. They stay “dis-integrated” when they do. Those who
heal manage to reclaim themselves and the many complex aspects of
their lives and selves. The recollect themselves and reintegrate.
They realize that though others may have abandoned them like trash,
they recognize their inherent worth and reclaim who they are.
I
happened across Matthew
14:14 (NIV) today, and I saw in it another part of this process.
When
Jesus landed and saw a large crowd,
he
had compassion on them and healed their sick.
I
caught a glimpse of this process differently. Jesus arrives and comes
to be where the people are. He comes to them, and there are many
people. He then takes the time to really “see” them, for to have
compassion for people, you must first stop to see them as people.
When you look specifically at Jehovah Jireh, one of the names
ascribed to names ascribed to God and how Jesus is revealed in the
Old Testament, it literally translates as “Jehovah
sees.” Christians are often taught that this is the Name of
God that we see when God provides help for His people. Then, as the
King James often talks about how Jesus was “moved
with compassion,” He follows up with an action. He responds to
what He sees by compassionately healing those precious people who are
sick among them. It is a process of caring.
- He came to the people.
- “Jehovah Sees” saw honored them by really considering their plight as he “saw” them.
- He identifies with their grief through compassion.
- He does something to help change their circumstances for the better.
Today,
I also thought about what I told myself often when I began the hard
work of healing from spiritual abuse. I would ask my husband about
how I would move forward, because it didn't know how I would avoid
the same pitfalls again. I was in so much pain, and I couldn't
afford to walk into more pain through more mistakes. He would say,
“Start from where you are.” And I didn't even really understand
how to do that. I had to break it down into a more specific process,
something that felt more like having compassion for myself in my
“scattered” state. I came up with this process that one must do
to move forward concerning anything.
- Understand where you are by really seeing and considering circumstances.
- Accept those circumstances as they are in reality, no matter how threatening or painful they seem.
- Show compassion to yourself, forgiving yourself by taking true stock of who you are as a person. This becomes an opportunity to grow through deficiency or to just mature more in one's own character.
- Rally your strength and your assets to move forward through positive and healthy action.
In a
way, we have to extent do ourselves what we see Jesus doing in the
gospels.
I also
thought of what Judith Herman writes in Trauma
and Recovery. She also
breaks healing down into a process, too. This
article gives an excellent synopsis in an overview of this aspect
of the book (though please note that I am not familiar with any other
resources on this website).
When
you recover from a trauma, the first stage in the process involves
taking stock of what happened. Not specifically mentioned in this
review, I love how Herman describes the role of a therapist or
trusted friend who walks through the process with the wounded
person: “as a witness and an ally.” Like Jesus who sees, we
need someone to tell about what happened to us as we go back through
it so that we can begin to make sense of the experience and then
move on to find meaning in it.- The second stage is one of grieving. I see this as that process of collecting all of those “scattered” pieces of the experience and of oneself to reintegrate them to find “wholeness.”
- The third stage involves reconnecting with people again.
I
couldn't help but see the parallels in these processes, as so very
similar to one another. The intimidation and grief involved in the
hard work of recovery from spiritual abuse makes us more likely to
feel like we are isolated and alienated from God. It only seems that
way because the situation we find ourselves in and the wounds we bear
run so deeply into the core of who we are. This is an illusion of
sorts, or rather just the tunnel vision we tend to have when we feel
consumed with the pain from very demanding wounds.
I do
not believe that we are really alone. I believe that the God Who
Sees is right with us, but to really grow, we have to make the hard
decisions to keep moving forward to find our faith again. We need
faith in something to be able to find enough optimism to move
forward, through and out of our plight. Some people abandon God at
this point because they do feel so alienated. They wonder why they
were ever cast down like trash and scattered in the first place, for
surely a loving God would have spared them from such a painful
process. I can fully relate to why people would want to walk away
from God because I understand too well how painful this process
proves to be. I lived it. I went through all of these stages and
faced all of these hard choices. I had to look into the dark places
and into my own shortcomings to take stock of who I really was and of
what kind of stuff I was made. A part of that process always
continues for me, too.
I
chose to put my faith in the God Who Sees. By faith, I believed in
that Jesus who looked out on the throngs of people, realizing that
they were people whom others had no regard. I believe that He had
compassion for them in their suffering, feeling limited and lost and
helpless. Looking back, the process of demonstrating that compassion
for me and extending it to me through the hands and faces and words
of others couldn't come fast enough for me. If I had been able to
plan and order my recovery, I'd have made it much shorter, as it took
time and energy to even find those hands, faces, and words through
which God brought me comfort. I'd love to circumvent around the
“working out of my salvation.” I wish that it weren't so much
work. Philippians
2:12 from whence I draw this says that the process is one of
“fear and trembling.” Spiritual abuse recovery is no different.
I wanted to bypass the fear and the trembling part of the process as
well. I wanted that easy yoke and that light burden. That part of
the journey with the God Who Sees was the hard phase – and it was
harder for me than any other process I'd endured before.
When
the process seemed more painful than I could bear, I didn't always
think about these Scriptures. I was glad that I had knowledge of
them and had put my faith in them before. The process of healing
became a proving ground for their veracity, though. For a long time
in the midst of the grief or on the days when I couldn't find help or
much cause for the hope of finding someone who understood what was
happening to me, the concept of the God Who Sees seemed like empty
hope. But something in me kept believing against the feelings. I
remembered the words of II
Chronicles 16:9, about how God's eyes roam over the earth,
looking for someone to whom He can show Himself so as to demonstrate
His power to them. I wanted to be one of those people. I decided
who I wanted to be, and that was a big part of the process, too.
There was just no way around that pain of the fear and trembling and
the work involved in the process. Gain came by the pain of grieving
and waiting and believing when I could find little that I could
trust.
But it
came. I was recollected and reintegrated, and those processes still
continue.
If you
find yourself in the middle of a particularly tough fear and
trembling work day, you might do well to remember that healing is a
process. The destination of wholeness may not be imminent for you,
and it may require going on a journey that takes a lot longer than
you'd like. Israel wandered around in the desert for 40 years before
they received what was promised to them, and we're even reminded
of the mistakes that they made. Consider that the pain of fear
and trembling might not mean that God doesn't see you and that the
length of the journey may be longer than you'd like. I believe that
God sees us, and there's just no shortcuts around our humanity and
the working out of it. That's part of taking stock of where you are
and accepting it. Challenge the God Who Sees to meet you in the
process, and watch for Him to show up to show Himself strong to you.
Expect Him to be moved with compassion for you, and see what happens.
