Surrender
When a child is young, he or she has an innate “uh oh” feeling. Perhaps it seems innate, but it is actually learned. It is the feeling associated with fear, when something bad is going to happen. Perhaps it happens when we have when we have done something wrong. The “uh oh” alarm goes off: Mama’s gonna be mad. In a healthy child, the “uh oh” feeling also alerts them to danger. They may cry out for help, they may run, they may freeze. They know, however, that the “uh oh” feeling is a warning. When a child (or an adult) experiences repeated trauma, they often develop a different response to the “uh oh” feeling. Some become hypervigilant; they develop a hypersensitivity to potential threats and may become paralyzed with fear. Others learn to tune it out. If no help comes or there is no relief to the impending harm, attending to the alarm is useless. It’s better to turn it off, to detach, and simply endure.
Healing from trauma often includes learning once again to recognize the “uh oh” feeling, and to develop healthy coping skills. For the hypervigilant, the goal is to moderate the panic and find useful ways to express the fear and pain. For the detached, learning once again to connect with the feeling and to use it as a meaningful alarm system, as well as to develop healthy coping, is the goal.
Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone present a similar human story in their book, “Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy” [1]. Set in the larger context of dealing with the state of the world, and the current ecological crisis in particular, the authors suggest that people tend to approach the greater state of the world with three possible options. They refer to the first as “Business as Usual”. [2] In this option people tend to shut out the warning signs of danger or calamity and proceed with their lives as though there were no concerns. They detach and disconnect, sometimes because they truly have no sense of connection with their broader world, and sometimes because they have no concept of what they could do to change things. Thus it is emotionally safer to simply ignore the danger and move on. The second approach is the “Great Unraveling.” [3] Here people become overwhelmed with the enormity of the impending calamity. Climate Change. Economic decline. War. The alarms are going off, but people may be paralyzed with a sense of helplessness and hopelessness. The final option is the “Great Turning.” [4] In this option, regardless of the potential outcome, people take action toward small and larger change.
It is to this process of turning and of change that Macy and Johnstone focus their attention. Grounding their work in resilience theory, psychology, systems theory, and Buddhism, they present a process for being and doing change. They begin with gratitude as a grounding place. Learning to be thankful re-connects us to self, others, and our world. From here, they suggest recognizing and embracing the pain of the world that is real. Ignoring pain only leads to further wounding. The next step is to “see with new eyes”. [5] Seeing with new eyes is about re-connecting with other people, with the past and the future, and with our environment, specifically the world and all that is in it. Finally, the authors talk about going forth; about catching a vision, casting a vision, developing networks of support, building endurance, and gaining comfort with the ambiguity of an unknown outcome.
In my world I see many daunting and overwhelming concerns. Poverty. Privilege, power and oppression. Inequality. Declining educational success. Injustice. A world walking away from God.
I have a choice, as do we all. I can ignore these things and go about my business. But then I think of a quote that I have posted in my office by Christian Educator Henrietta Mears:
“There is no magic in small plans. When I think of my ministry, I think of the world. Anything less than that would not be worthy of Christ nor His will for my life.”[6]
I could go into detail into all of the many places where I might apply Macy and Johnstone’s principles of Active Hope. In my church. With my students. But instead I will start with myself.
I surrender.
I think for me that’s where I begin. Yes, with gratitude. Yes by embracing the pain and the challenges of the many situations I face personally, in my community, in my world. Yes, by dreaming new dreams and casting them out over the people and places where I have influence. Yes, by persisting and persevering in spite of and because of unknown outcomes. But first by surrender to my Lord and King, my Creator who connects me to Himself, to His people, and to His creation. That is the great joy and hope that I have as a believer. I do not move alone. I move first because and through Him. He is my source for everything else.
I end with the last refrain from a poem often diminished by its consumerist over-use on Christmas cards. But the simplicity of these words by English woman Christina Rosetti in her poem, “In the Bleak Midwinter” , seemed to be perfect for this post and this place where I am. I start active hope with surrender.
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
[1] Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone, Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We’re in without Going Crazy, Novato, CA: New World Library, 2012.
[2] Ibid, 14-17.
[3] Ibid, 17-24.
[4] Ibid, 26 – 33.
[5] Ibid, 39.
[6] Ethel May Baldwin and David V. Benson, Henrietta Mears and How She Did It! Ventura, CA: Regal Books, p 17.
About the Author
Julie Dodge
Julie loves coffee and warm summer days. She is an Assistant Professor of Social Work at Concordia University, Portland, a consultant for non-profit organizations, and a leader at The Trinity Project.8 responses to “Surrender”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Julie, Great post! You outlined Macy’s and Johnstone’s key concepts and then brought it to your own ministry—what you see—what you experience—and then finished it with where you want to start—I surrender! Beautiful! You also wrote, “Yes, by dreaming new dreams and casting them out over the people and places where I have influence.” This is a wonderful example of Active Hope! Thank you my friend!
Thank you for your kind words, Miriam.
Julie,
Powerful, honest post here. Thanks for sharing.
You say, “The alarms are going off, but people may be paralyzed with a sense of helplessness and hopelessness.” I really related to this. I know there are problems — major problems. But I am often so busy with my own “stuff” that I ignore the big societal and global problems and just take care of my own concerns. I think that is what most of us do if we are honest.
This, I think, is where community comes in. If am on my own, which I often am, I will just take care of me. But if I am in community, then I will be forced to think about and take care of others — not just about me.
I will end here with a question to myself. What will I do with this week’s reading? My answer to this question will determine a lot. One thing I do know for sure is that I need to be part of a community again. That itself would be a good start. I will keep you posted on this.
Thanks again for your post.
I do indeed want to hear what you do with this week’s reading. It is the kind of book where you can either go, “Nice.” And then go about business as usual. Or we can do something and decide to engage in life and our world, however that may look. The simplest steps can be the most profound.
Julie,
Thanks for your helpful thoughts on surrender. This is a good starting point for us all. It takes the focus off ourselves; elevating what we can do as we confront the crisis of our time OR off our inability to act and our fear of acting at all. You have taken Macy and Johnstone’s Work That Reconnects and connected first with God who empowers and transforms – concepts that the authors have reserved for our own creative capacity to respond (5). They do refer to the “spiral,” a sort-of process, that “moves through” our reconnecting with crisis we confront. You get it right when you say, “I move first because and through Him.”
Thank you Ron. It seems to me that there are always issues and passions to pursue. But for me, if it doesn’t start with God, then it just doesn’t matter.
Dear Julie
I love how you explain what the authors wrote and then drill it down to applying it personally. Taking a look at our own pain and still daring to dream new dreams. Thank you. I found that inspiring. 🙂
Thank you Liz. I find that humbling.