Not a Waste: The Short Life of Joseph Merrick

 In 2014-2015, I wrote a series of nine posts about ten individuals who had short life spans but who ought to be remembered for more than the fact that they died young. Each life has a purpose, and with that, I will bring another person to our remembrance. Joseph Carey Merrick lived 27 years, from 1862 to 1890, in Europe.

We have much to learn from the life of Joseph Merrick, though you may never have heard his name. He is better known for an epithet that compared him to an animal, but I will not mention it in this short biography [1]. Joseph had a physical disability that manifested during his days as a five year old boy; it changed the appearance of his skin and affected the structure of his bones, breathing and speech. After his mother died, none of his relatives was invested in his well being. As a result, Joseph ended up in a workhouse. Later, people exploited him and placed him on exhibit at carnivals in Europe. He was mistreated by his handlers to the point that Joseph lost self-esteem and his health became severely compromised. He thought this degraded life was all he could hope for.

According to the records left by Dr. Frederick Treves, Joseph began to receive treatment at the London Hospital in 1886. At this time, by talking with Joseph, the doctor discovered that he could speak and read. Furthermore, he could recite Psalm 23 from memory, having read it from the Book of Common Prayer. He was polite and loved to learn. A remarkable part of Joseph's story is that his mother (who gave him the middle name Carey after the pioneering missionary to India named William Carey) gave him a foundation of faith and taught him to love Jesus. Joseph continued to practice his faith once he was out of the clutches of hawkers.

After years of misery experienced by Joseph due to the cruelty of humans, some people of goodwill ensured that his remaining years would be comfortable. They also made it possible for Joseph to have a safe apartment within the hospital, to experience social interactions and outings, and to have opportunities for craftsmanship (basket weaving and making paper models of buildings). 

Joseph Merrick was created in the image of God, but those who only looked on the outward appearence made him out to be a monster. The Victorian era is associated with church going and traditional beliefs, but examples of the dehumanization of people who did not fit the categories of "normal" span the British Empire. Such "others" were given degrading names and were treated as subhuman. 

Learning of the story of Joseph Merrick has led to my own soul searching. I leave you with this question: How do we (people who say we love Jesus) still dehumanize certain individuals and groups of people today because we don't take the time to talk to them or understand them? 

[1] Through a simple internet search, you can find the name of a film about Joseph Merrick's experiences and the book by Frederick Treves, on which it was based.

Little Prayer for Unity

Merciful Father in Heaven, when it can be so easy to let words, issues and misunderstandings divide us, help us to remember that we are all people trying to live out your calling on our lives. Let us be gentle with each other.

Jesus, you prayed for us in the garden, asking that all believers may be brought to complete unity, to let the world know that you were sent by the Father and that we are loved with an everlasting love.

Holy Spirit, fill us with love, patience and kindness, that we may reflect your glory as we were designed to do in the beginning.

Amen

Finding Kinship in Unexpected Places

I am an admitted introvert. There's a stereotype that many of those who blog are not the most social people around. But introverts do like people, if not crowds of people at once. As a child, I could not believe my father's ability to make conversation with strangers in elevators and sometimes find an unexpected connection.

I've been reflecting on some of the times that this has happened to me, in spite of my reserved nature. Yes, in our current society where people are zooming around in cars and wearing earbuds while walking in the neighbourhood, it's harder to make a connection. We may also need to overcome cultural hurdles as our towns and cities become more ethnically diverse. In such situations, even a head nod or a smile or a simple greeting can remind ourselves and others that strangers are human just like us. I share these brief anecdotes to spur you on to seizing the moments to connect with people you don't know. You might just find kinship in an unexpected place.

Teacher's College

After more than a decade of attending schools where everyone came from a family that believed the same basic tenets of Christianity, I went to a university far from home to begin my teacher training. I sat in classes with others who wanted to make a difference with young people, and we explored different pedagogies and discussed topics in groups.

I noticed for the first month that not one of my cohort of about 25 budding educators said one word about church, God or faith. In a rare moment of boldness, I made low-key mention of attending church on the weekend. Suddenly, I found out that a significant contingent of my class had a church affliliation. One classmate decided to organize a time when anyone interested could visit the parish he attended in the town of Callender. Three of us were given the honor of carrying what were called "the gifts" to the front table.

At a Longhouse

After I had children, our family took a trip to a reconstructed Indigenous village and were been guided by an Indigenous woman through a longhouse. One of my younger children, age 4 or 5, in a moment of silence blurted out a spontaneous word of praise, "I really do love Jesus." I was taken aback when the guide responded in kind. Despite all that her people had suffered at the hands of those who bore this name, she said, "So do I."

Letters from Prison

About twelve years ago, I joined a ministry that writes letters of encouragement to inmates across Canada. As I receive Bible studies from women and men, I'm able to make small connections to each one of them. Things that gave us kinship were sometimes geographical, where I had previously travelled to that province or was familiar with something historical to that place. Other times, we were drawn together by the fact that we were both parents and had concerns about our children and caring for them well. For still others, the common human experiences of rejection, disappointment, loneliness and desire for hope and forgiveness, made it possible to write heart-felt letters to precious individuals I had never met.

Engineering

Freelance copyediting dropped into my lap many years ago when a friend asked me to read an engineering paper for a friend, who was not a native English speaker. Happy to help out, I gave feedback about the grammar and sentence structure, even when I had no grasp of the academic content. One thing led to another, and I helped a number of engineering students in my city with the form and style of their Master's and PhD theses.

One of these students went on to start a business, and he consulted with me to check over press releases or web content from time to time. After returning some material to him in the springtime, I dared to add a personal connection in my email by tentatively saying, "If you celebrate Easter, I hope you have a blessed weekend. If not, I hope you enjoy extra time off with your family."

To my surprise, he replied that he did celebrate Easter. A year or two later, he asked me to collaborate on two faith-based writing projects on behalf of his friend, a Lebanese-born Maronite priest living in France.

Nurse

My mother lives in a retirement home, which provides a level of nursing oversight for its residents. A few months ago, one of the nurses had a conversation with her, during which it came up that my mom is a follower of Jesus. This nurse, born in Ghana, explained that he also shared this faith. In fact, he now often reads some Scripture or prays with my mother while checking on her or after taking her blood pressure.

Church Guest

I'm as guilty as most in that I gravitate to those I already know before and after a church service. One Sunday recently, though, I went up to a guest and introduced myself. In our short but meaningful conversation, we had a geographical connection because I had attended a conference in the town where he lives. Then, we discovered that we each either translate or edit sermons for Korean speakers in North America. Finally, he was related to someone who would be working with me in the fall.

Front Yard Concert

In our city, one Saturday in June has been set aside for one-hour outdoor concerts. These concerts are organized and financed by the city, but homeowners are invited to offer a power source and space on their porch or front lawn or driveway for the musicians and spectators. 

This year we offered our driveway, and for that hour we had dozens of guests stop by to listen and to enjoy a frozen treat. The vehicle of live music was a way to bring together people of different ages and walks of life. One neighbor commented, "We should do this every month!" because it created a sense of belonging for all those who attended.

I encourage you to look beyond the external things that make someone you meet "different" in your eyes. Humans have become experts in putting each other into categories and groups, taking just split seconds to determine if someone should be classified with "us" or with "them." However, human kinship is real. Seek it, and you will find it, even in unexpected places.

Not a Game of "Gotcha"

There's usually a story, a series of events, behind every major lightbulb moment someone has. Please allow me to share a new insight about the "Woman at the Well", who meets Jesus in John chapter 4, and how it came to me.

Since I was a young child, I heard the story of the woman at the well in Sunday School. Jesus took the time to talk with her, even though there was extreme hostility between the ethnic groups they each belonged to. Jesus was a Jew, and this woman was a Samaritan.

As I got older, more layers were added to this woman. Much is made of her arrival at the well at noon. It is inferred that she was trying to avoid other people at the well, a kind of social hub in her day. She was described as someone who kept changing the subject, trying to dodge Jesus' attempts to bring her a living hope. And, the takeaway emphasized is that Jesus got her to face her especially immoral past as a woman who had been married five times.

The commentaries and study Bibles I have consulted seem to see this story as a game of "Gotcha", in which Jesus gets the upper hand and finds this woman out.

In 1964, Dr. Eric Berne wrote a book called Games People Play. He was a psychiatrist who specialized in "transactional analysis", an outgrowth of Freudian and Jungian thought. In this book, he describes dozens of patterns or games people use in relating to each other. One of them is "Now I've Got You, You ..." I am leaving out the offensive term he puts at the end.

As I reread Berne's book last spring, it struck me that Berne was documenting the plethora of ways pastimes and games act as "substitutes for the real living of real intimacy"[1]. And then I thought, we have been misreading this story as an interaction initiated by a man like our broken selves. If anyone knew the real living of real intimacy, it was Jesus Christ. This was not a conversation in which Jesus is trying to trick someone or come out on top or shame someone. Indeed, any other conversation Jesus had with other women and men do not carry this dynamic at all.

What are we misreading here?

And, now I go back to a book I read last summer, Misreading Scripture With Individualist Eyes by E. Randolph Richards and Richard James (pseudonym for security reasons). It helps the reader realize that when Jesus is talking with a woman at a well in Sychar, Samaria, they are conversing in a collectivist culture. In this culture, women are not independent agents. They rarely own property. They rarely have a say in matters of marriage. They can be shunned for things they cannot control, such as medical conditions or barrenness. If something goes wrong in her life, the community can make up a story about how she deserved it.

So, if this woman came to the well at noon to avoid the stares of others, it did not mean she deserved them.

When Jesus asks this woman to call her husband and return, he is not trying to trick her. He asks her to call her husband because of the cultural norms. It would be appropriate for her husband and her to learn from Jesus together, so the community would not ascribe ill intentions to a foreign visitor.

When the woman says she does not have a husband, Jesus' words to her should be taken at face value. He commends her for being honest. She has told the truth, if not the whole truth. Does she owe a stranger the whole truth, especially if it's a truth that is mingled with pain? Richards and James write, "Her previous five marriages were likely ended by a combination of widowhood and divorce" [2]. They add, "...divorce was more commonly initiated by the husband" [3]. She has been through a lot. Jesus is not being sarcastic, and he is not adding onto her suffering. A group of women in Afghanistan hearing this story for the first time grasped this too! [4]

Next, she identifies him as a prophet. She wonders if she has to worship in Jerusalem to properly worship God. It was a long distance. What if the man in her life would not allow her to go there?

And here we continue to see a pastoral Jesus letting her know that the attitude of the heart is more crucial to worship than the physical location.

When we read this account hearing Jesus as a loving and guileless communicator, we discover a better takeaway--Jesus' simple request for a drink of water led to a woman discovering the Messiah, and she invited the town to come and hear this prophet. Jesus extended his stay because so many mortals were eager to hear the good news of a Kingdom that was being extended beyond gendered, ethnic and national borders.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

----------------

[1] Eric Berne (1964) Games People Play.

[2] E. Randolph Richards and Richard James (2020) Misreading Scripture with Individualist Eyes, page 56.

[3] Source above, page 57.

[4] This anecdote was shared in a online professional development (Edvance) gathering entitled Education as Hospitality by Dr. David I. Smith in October, 2021.

Things I Learned at Church, Part 5: the Church at its Best

Church people are not always at their best, I will admit. It's not difficult to find examples of church people who write, speak and behave in shameful ways. I make no excuse for them or for myself. 

However, if you would like to see church people at their best, pay attention to them at worship and watch them serving.

In a zoom interview with Christine Caine in 2020, Dr. Anita Phillips mentioned that you find people at their best when they are worshipping [1]. This idea has rolled around in my mind for a few years. When regular people are worshipping God in church, through song, prayers, giving their money to benefit others, receiving the sacraments, and listening to Scripture, we see them in a humble posture and attitude. Their focus is not on themselves but on their Lord. Their desire is to give God the glory. If you want to see the church at its best, come on a Saturday evening or a Sunday morning. Don't come just to hear the preacher. Don't come just to hear the musicians. Come to observe the people sitting and standing and giving their attention to a divine being who is transforming them.

Another place to see church people at their best is when they are serving others. Last Thursday evening, my schedule allowed me to scoop taco chili into bowls for anyone needing a meal. This food had been prepared by a team of six or seven church people, earlier in the day. To my right was a retired woman, who provided the same meal in takeout containers. To my left were several men and women adding veggies, cookies, utensils, and coffee to the orders that were going to be eaten inside the community center. Behind the scenes another refilled anything that was running low. As our short shift began, I said to my fellow volunteers, "I believe this is the church at its best. It is my honor to serve with you."

When we are together worshipping the God who created us or together helping out folks in need, we are occupied with fulfilling the two great commandments as Jesus summarized them: to love God with our whole selves and to love our fellow human being as much as we love ourselves. When we are thus occupied, we are not elevating ourselves or finding fault with others. We don't just have to imagine the church at its best. We can participate in it!

[1] BODY LANGUAGE: A Conversation on Race + Restoration in the Body of Christ, (June 1, 2020).

Tapestries and Menus

This post involves some mixed metaphors, which I hope you will excuse. Where I live in Ontario, there has been some debate in the local newspaper about the carbon tax. Some writers are in favour, while others oppose it. One writer wanted to share a novel thought: planting trees would have a greater benefit than stopping the use of carbon-producing fuels.

It's true that trees and plants are an effective creation care strategy and that they absorb excess carbon from our environment. However, pitting different strategies against each other will not help as much as using all strategies in tandem.

There's much wisdom in the following quote from science writer Kristy Hamilton's book Nature's Wild Ideas:

"It's become increasingly apparent that solving our world's water woes will require a tapestry of solutions." 

The underlined words could just as easily be replaced with climate woes.

In that spirit, I would like to offer some threads for this tapestry, threads you could choose to add to your repertoire once, once a week, or more frequently.

Menu #1 involves practices to embrace.

 Menu #2 involves practices to fast from or refrain from doing. Again, you decide on the frequency.

Lessons from Privation

When I think of "fasting", I usually go beyond the literal definition of abstaining from food. Fasting can be applied to a host of activities that we may choose to give up for a period of time and for a specific purpose. But what about fasts that we did not choose? This post reflects on some of the enforced fasts shared by a large number of people. I don't want to minimize the trauma associated with many people's  experience of these events. 

September 11-14, 2001

After the horrific terrorist attacks that took place at three sites in the United States, all commercial flights were grounded until September 14th. People were grounded, and some were displaced far from their homes or original destinations.

I lived outside of a small town at that time, yet it was close enough to a main highway to hear traffic when we had the windows open at night. During those few days, the skies were so different. We did not hear jets overhead; we did not see the distinct contrails that were so familiar. One person close to me determined not to go on another airplane flight after this event, not simply out of fear but because the assumptions about travelling by air had been rocked.

August 14-15, 2003

A two-day electricity blackout that affected 50 million people in North America was another event that rocked my sense of what's expected and normal. So many things we rely on for daily life presume that the plugs in the wall will provide the power. 

The most essential thing at that time was making sure what was in the freezer did not spoil. Where I lived had a backup generator because it was connected to a farm, so we approached friends without this advantage and stored their frozen goods in our chest freezer until the power came back on.

Those two days were nothing compared to the enforced fast of electricity experienced by Quebec residents in January 1998. Frigid and dark winter conditions were endured by some folks for almost a month, due to the extensive infrastructure damage. The church I belonged to filled a van with baked goods and bread to send to one of the affected areas.

March, 2020

The Covid-19 pandemic forced the whole world to stay at home. There was still electricity, but air travel was halted and schools and churches closed their doors. Essential workers took extraordinary risks to care for the vulnerable, while those who could work from home used digital technologies to connect remotely. Social and family connections were limited to one's own household.

Because these lockdowns lasted for weeks and months, those who lived through them emerged with a different sense of normal. We all missed out on many things that brought us joy, but the youngest ones may have missed the most.

As I write this reflection, I'm reminded that I experienced many privileges during the events I listed. But they did affect me. I don't assume that everything I want or expect is going to materialize. When something is not available in the store today due to "supply chain" issues, I try to take it in stride and make due with the abundant number of things that are available.

My grandparents lived through foreign occupation, but they did not become bitter. I want to be guided by gratitude and generosity, not by resentment and accumulation.