David Michael Bruno

Grief and Control in a Scientific Age

In our household we have a saying. It comes from my wife, of course, who is the keeper of wise aphorisms in our home. The saying goes like this, “You have to grieve the loss.”
Usually this means about the same thing as, “Just get over it already!” but with a more gracious tone. It works great for children around, say, five- or nine- or eleven-years-old, who have a tendency to mope for an inordinate amount of time after they don’t get their way.
“No, you may not have another brownie. You’ve already had three.”
“But I’m still hungry.”
“You can have a piece of fruit, if you’re still hungry. And if you ask for a brownie again, you’re going to be in trouble.”
With a look that says, Arrrr! She questions, “Why?”
“Because you’re not in charge. Now, get over it and go play.”
(Moping ensues.)

Sulking naturally entices children toward the corners of the house, where they believe they will look more sorrowful, like a weakling animal seeking shelter from a predator. But the corners are the places that children normally do not spend time, and so the corners are the places where they’ve strewn toys that they’ve forgotten about for weeks. Toys that become suddenly interesting again when seen through sullen eyes. Not uncommonly, it takes about ten minutes, sometimes an hour, for a child to grieve her inability to control the world and then move on, with a once-neglected toy in hand.

It should be said, too, that as a child grows more mature, the ability for her to engage her rational and spiritual faculties to go through this grief process increases. She can “grieve the loss” without first throwing a fit.

We’re not in control of the world. Sometimes the frustration of that truth makes us mad. Really mad. Sometimes the sadness causes us emotional upheaval. Sometimes it even throws us into a state of depression for a time.
So then, when it’s time to “grieve the loss,” how much time does it take? Well, according to the proposed draft of the new DSM-V, the American Psychiatric Association’s manual for diagnosing mental illness, not very long in case of bereavement. Apparently a person grieving the death of a loved one -- the death of a spouse or child -- should “just get over it already” in about two weeks.
I suspect that there’s more to this story. I suspect that there is considerable debate among medical professionals about the notion that prolonged sorrow over the death of a loved one is a mental disorder. I suspect that, but I doubt I’m right. It troubling to the extreme that the proposed recommendations of the APA could become the standard treatment for people who seek council during a time of bereavement.
This reminds me of Brave New World or the more recent Hunger Games, in which all that is human is distracted or medicated away. Is there anything more appropriate than grieving -- for more than two weeks -- the lose of a child? Obviously, if years later the child’s room has been turned into a shrine and the person has not really “grieved the loss” then it’s appropriate to get treatment. But the notion that if grief lasts for more than a scientifically comfortable moment it becomes a disorder is what’s unnatural about the APA’s recommendation.

Fear, Control, the Divine, and Stuff

A random thought.

Life is a fearful experience. I don’t want to suggest that living is nothing but fearful. Sometimes people forget about their daily anxieties when they, for example, fall in love. Love, if it is a healthy kind of love, eventually leads people to circumstances out of their control, which obviously is a fearful situation. But the act of losing control for the sake of love is thrilling. Along the way to love, many people become oblivious to their fears or else willingly cope with their fears, which are, on balance, more tolerable than love.

Well so, over time fear works its way into all our circumstances because no matter what, we really only have so much control over our lives. We must confront our fears some how. Just as an observation, in our day a lot of people look to consumerism as a way to handle fear. We buy relief. It feels like we can purchase control. I think I’m in love with her and, if that is true, my life is going to be highly uncertain from here on out. Well then, I will buy her this diamond. This cut. This quality. This price. I can and will make this decision. Let’s hope that she likes it.

But how did people deal with their fears before industrialization? Probably in unscientific ways. There were no microscopes and no governing bodies to officially sanction the quality of a jewel. Essentially, in days past the hint of a possibility that we can control our lives was nonexistent. A consumer today can think he is in control of the purchase of an engagement ring. (In reality he is not, because he is not in control of the diamond trade or current fashions in jewelery or his soon to be fiancee.) But a preindustrial farmer had absolutely no control over the weather, and he knew it. At best he could prepare for nasty storms. There was no way for him to actually placate a tempest.

In the past the non-consumer made offerings to the gods. Uncertainty originated in heaven. (Either uncertainty because the gods were themselves uncertain or uncertainty because people could not understand God.) But today we make supplication and sacrifice to ourselves. We have a notion that our fears are our own making and can be beat down by our own actions. We think we might be in control . . . specially at stores. What purchase today is intended to mollify divine wrath? Yet how many things bought have soothed an angry woman? It is ourselves who are the dissatisfied ones who need to be pacified. This means, of course, that we are now the ones to be feared.

And we have to wonder, I think, if the fear of God is such a bad thing after we have considered what kind of socioeconomic circumstance the fear of ourselves has created. I’m suspicious. Even superstitious.

Mighty God

Just a quick note recommending today's sermon at Emmanuel Faith Community Church, "You Oughta Know About the Mighty God." Especially good if you are going through a tough patch.

Two Things Only, and stuff isn't one of them

Some men are masters of deception. Others are masters of elusion. Often I feel like the master of distraction. Or rather, I feel like I've been mastered by some distracting force.

This is as much a personal reminder for myself as it is a blog post to admonish you. But I guess sometimes blogging is like wearing your conviction on your sleeves. So be it.

I believe that our lives can be summed up in two things:

1. Being a healthy person. 2. Doing good work.

It so happens that, as Christian, I understand those two things to coincide with Jesus' priorities. When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus answered, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind... And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'"

1. A healthy person, or as the Scripture says a 'teleios' (mature) person, is one who prioritizes love for God in all facets of life. 2. Our work (vocation) should prioritize love for (service to) others.

"Two things only" isn't so easy a lifestyle to live. I understand that. It's no casual matter that Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan after he identifies these two life priorities. Not many of us smoothly mimic the priorities of the Good Samaritan as we go about daily life. Yet that is the goal. Be a mature human by prioritizing love for God. Act it out by prioritizing love for others.

Sometimes I marvel at how aggressively the world around us tries to keep us from these two things. Of course, I'm always carrying on about how American-style consumerism interferes with growing into and acting like a mature human being. More often than not other social structures subvert these priorities, too. Work. School. Entertainment. Sadly, even sometimes church.

But most troubling of all, myself. Thus I need to chasten myself, not with shirts stitched of hair or a bed made of hard wood. But with hair-brained, hard-nosed ideas, like for example the 100 Thing Challenge :-)

That's the goal. To put conviction to work in order to grow up, becoming a healthy person who does good work.

Attenborough, God, Jerks, and Evil

My buddy fd shared this link in his Google Reader about David Attenborough's view of creationism. I have to confess that it came as a bit of a surprise. Being a huge fan of Planet Earth, I figured Attenborough, who narrated the documentary, might be more moderate on the subject of origins. While the text of Planet Earth treats evolution as a fact, it also speaks of "stewardship" and even "creation" in ways that allow plenty of room for theistic evolution.

Two things trouble me about Attenborough's comments. First is the negative association God receives because of the jerks that write Attenborough nasty letters. I've never understood this gripe against God. It's as if those who are frustrated with God would have him censor the words of his least faithful followers. Why?

The other comment that troubled me was the implication that God cannot be benevolent because there are so many horrible problems on earth. Attenborough gives the example of a worm that can only live in an eyeball. How could a loving God create a worm that burrows into a young child's eye? Hmm. Well the "problem of evil" is a legitimate question. It might very well be the main question for anyone who thinks about and doubts God. My own feeling is that the problem of evil is not an "answerable" question. What I mean by that is this. The problem of evil is a theological question that can be addressed but not solved. Anyone requiring a case-closed, end-of-subject answer to the problem of evil, is going feel smug.

A more humble approach might be this. For discussion sake, pretend you are God. Now start making the rules. The worm that eats its way through an impoverished child's eyeball? Gone! Wiped off the face of the earth. It's horrible. As a benevolent God, you will not tolerate such evil, even if it evolved that way. Alright, next case. John Edwards who cheats on his wife while she suffers from cancer even as he uses her for his own political gain? Er... That's horrible, too. But in this case benevolence means toleration. Worms cannot repent. Edwards seemed contrite. Edwards stays! (You, know -- stays alive. He's gone from national politics.) Alright, next case. How about those school-yard bullies who were videotaped and shown on YouTube viciously taunting a child with Down's Syndrome? Gone! Those bullies are more awful than worms and politicians combined!

How about this one. Today, on the phone, I was a total jerk to my wife. For real. I'm back in character now. I apologized a while later. So, how long do I get to be a jerk before God takes action? Maybe God's benevolence means he will not allow me to be a jerk. He'll intervene and keep me from folly. And he'll keep those jerks from writing nasty letters to Attenborough. And he'll keep Attenborough from saying nasty things about him. And...

I share David Attenborough's frustration with religious people who only think about "beautiful things like hummingbirds." Those people want to call the shots on matters of good and evil. As it turns out, that is a theological temptation even for non-religious people like Attenborough.