Christianese – The Language of Comfort and Condemnation

This blog is for my sister – the one who asked me to share a conversation about what I say to my patients. I must smile and wink to God when I think of her/His timing. Maybe someone is encouraging me to take my own advice today?

I have stayed off social media (with the exception of Instagram) since Lent. Being off Facebook has done wonders for my anxiety levels – especially with all that is currently going on with me – and although I have not been publishing blogs, I have been journaling voraciously – my prayer journal.

I am a really good chaplain – and a good student – and a gifted writer. God has blessed me in many ways. But I am also one hot, ugly, broken mess in my personal life. Brad’s death and COVID destroyed everything I thought I knew, and I am having to dig deep, re-learn, and rebuild myself.

Grief sucks. Can I be that blunt as a pastor? It’s my blog . . . so I’d say . . . YES! Grief absolutely SUCKS! It is painful. It is unfair. It makes me want to give up and crawl back into my shell (turtles are my spirit animal). But I can’t . . or at least, I won't. I am currently obsessed with two things – a quote by Maya Angelou and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

The quote from Maya Angelou – “Do the best you can with what you know. When you know better, do better.”

Bonhoeffer – well, if you do not know his story, I suggest you find out. He’s the kind of Christian I want to be in our turbulent American society.

Anyway, today is my day off – my unofficial-official Sabbath day. Today I went to get my monthly deep tissue massage to work out the constant kinks in my shoulders and neck. On the way, the first song I heard made me weep thinking about Brad – Hard Habit to Break by Chicago. I kept reminiscing about the good parts of our marriage, the things I loved about Brad, what made him such a sweet, sweet, sweety as his grandma used to call him. So much damage we did to each other, but still. His death has done such a huge number on me. I miss that man so freaking much. It hurts.

On the way home, the last song I heard made me weep even harder thinking about Brad – Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh. I remembered some very specific times with Brad when Trick Pony played the Grand Ole’ Opry. The time me and a few other wives were asked to take part in a photo shoot and the photo ended up on billboards all over town. I wore red that day, although you cannot tell in the black and white photo. It was Trick Pony’s first appearance on the show, and I was so proud of him. I could tell he was proud to have me by his side. Another time, when I had my long luscious hair, I wore this leather Indian outfit, made me look like Pocahontas. An older famous singer kept flirting with me. Brad very protectively kept me close to his side. It was a cute mixture of pride and jealousy.

For whatever reason, this song made me cry even harder because, not only did I lose Brad to death, but I lost my best friend, Mike, a while back, too. Another loss I have yet to recover from. Mike was always the one I could talk to about anything. He was always there for me. I could cry on his shoulder and never have to speak a word. I miss him as much as I miss Brad.   

Luckily for me, my dad was walking toward the barn where we park just as I was walking back toward the house, tears running down my cheeks. I told him I needed a hug and he just held me and let me cry.

Anyway, what does all this have to do with what my sister asked me to do? Well, let me explain.

First, however, I do want to clarify that I do not give this advise to everyone. As a chaplain, I have become pretty good at being able to sense what people need in the moment. 

Some people need nothing and the best thing I can do for them is leave them alone. In those cases, after introducing myself, I let them know I am available and then I walk away.

Sometimes I need to be physically present, but silent. In those moments, I will quietly stand in the corner.

Sometimes people want to curse me and “my” God. Anger is a very normal reaction to grief. In those cases, I will silently stand by and let them vent.

Sometimes, people really need to believe what they are telling themselves. I am not going to interject my own thoughts and opinions. If what they are saying is what they need to help themselves cope in the moment, then I will nod and agree.

Sometimes, I can tell that what people are saying is what they think they should be saying or feeling as a good Christian. It is as if the intonation of their words is more like a question than a statement of fact. In that case, I will interject.

Of course, I am talking about grief – whether a painful and scary diagnosis or death.

It is a Christian language called Christianese – words and phrases which are not necessarily Biblical, but things we say to those grieving when we have nothing else to say or things we tell ourselves to help us make sense of the grief we are experiencing. Although they are said with good intentions – and sometimes they do help – they often cause more harm than good. 

Examples include:

God needed him/her more than we did.

Heaven gained a new angel.

He/she is in a better place.

At least he/she is no longer suffering.

And my absolute LEAST favorite, God will not give me more than I can handle.

In the first few cases regarding death, these Christianese phrases are common. With those who seem to be asking rather than telling me these things, I respond with something like:

“Maybe, but that doesn’t take away our grief.” I remind them of how much they loved this person and no matter what we believe about the afterlife, that reality is not going to take away the pain we feel right here, right now. I briefly state some feelings they may be feeling – even anger at God – and let them know that all those feelings are perfectly normal and okay. I let them know that God gets it. He can take it – even the anger.

I may say that it may be unfair, not make sense. I admit that I have no answers as to why God would take them. We may never come to a place of understanding this side of heaven. Then, I remind them of the one thing I am sure of – that God loves them SO much. When they grieve, He grieves. He cries with them and catches every tear. One day, when they are able to remember their loved one and smile and laugh at the memories, he will smile and laugh with them.

I remind them how important it is for them to help one another through their grief, realize that we all grieve differently, and to give one another space to grieve their way.

If a person/family does not come out and state any of these Christianese phrases, I often briefly state my responses as we pray – first praying for the person who just died, acknowledging and thanking God for the truth behind those Christianese phrases. Then, I acknowledge the pain of those left behind. I use this time of prayer to speak not just to God, but to the hearts of those gathered around.

My words do not lessen the pain, but they do give them permission to grieve and not feel guilty for not being the right sort of Christian or not having strong enough faith.

My recommendation for those who wish to comfort those who are mourning, rather than spout off Christianese, is to simply sit with the person. There is nothing we can say to make it better, but just like my dad hugging me when I was boo-hooing after a song triggered memories and my own mourning for Brad, sometimes that’s all they need – a shoulder to cry on or simply a warm body nearby.

Now, how do I respond to my least favorite Christianese phrase? This is something I hear mostly from people who have just received bad diagnoses – “I know that God would not give me more than I can handle.”

Again, sometimes people really need to believe this. If that is the case, I nod in agreement and let them hold onto that phrase of comfort. Other times, I will share my own story, especially if the person I am speaking with just received a cancer diagnosis:

“You know that phrase is a bunch of who-wee.  Of course God will give us more than we can handle. You know that firsthand right now. This feels like more than you can handle.

“I had cancer (blank) years ago. One of the best things anyone said to me was this – God will give you more than you can handle, but He will NEVER give you more than HE can handle. (Patients usually have an a-ha moment here.)

“Are you familiar with Job in the Bible? (If they are not, I briefly tell the story.) Job is one of my favorite stories because in the end, God never does tell Job why this happened to him. What he does say, basically, is that Job is not God and cannot possibly know the ways of God. That story reminds me that life is so much bigger than my little brain can possibly figure out. There were days when, like Job, I wished I had never been born. It was all way too much. In those moments, I remind myself of one of my favorite scripture verses.

“Joshua 1:9. God tells Joshua to be strong and courageous, but God never expected Joshua to be strong and courageous in his own power. We, like Joshua, are not asked to do any of this in our own power. It’s God’s strength and His power, His courage that gets us through.”

If people are really dealing with anxiety, I will admit that I, too, deal with anxiety. Then, I will teach them something called the breathing prayer. I encourage them to try this whenever it all becomes too much.

I explain the prayer slowly, walking them through it as we go. This is how the breathing prayer works:

Sit or lay down in a comfortable position with no distractions.

Close your eyes.

Breathe in through your nose. Breathe in until your lungs are completely full. As you breathe in, image the Holy Spirit filling every part of you.

Hold it in for 2-4 seconds.

Slowly breathe out through your mouth. Breathe out until there is nothing left. As you breathe out, name the thing that is causing you feel stressed or anxious. Be as specific as you can. Imagine that thing leaving your body.

Hold it for 2-4 seconds.

Keep repeating – breathing in the Holy Spirt, breathing out the negativity. Do this until you feel relaxed.

I admit that this exercise does not always work, but it often works. The reason it works is because 1) when we get stressed or anxious, we forget to breathe. This exercise reminds us to breathe. 2) As we visualize the Holy Spirit filling us and the bad stuff leaving us, we are quite literally inviting the Holy Spirit to fill us and take over until there is no more room left inside of us for the thing that is making us feel so anxious.

This exercise works on non-Christians and non-religious individuals as well. I simply replace “Holy Spirit” with “peace”.

Brad isn’t the only thing making me feel extra anxious these days, but he was the trigger today.

I have also been having a crisis of conscious about who I am called to be as a Christian and as someone who is going to be ordained in a few weeks. What I am learning through a particular class project which is challenging me – and what I am reminded of when I think about this bizarre language called Christianese – is that there is no one simple answer for everyone. These phrases bring comfort to some and cause others more pain and anguish.

My suggestion is simple, though. Simply be honest with yourself and your needs. If we are honest and in touch with our own emotions, we are in a better place to cope with them.

Also, have someone you love and trust who will pour into you and – this is the key – let them.

My therapist and I have been working on just that. She recently told me that she is afraid for me – warning me that I am going to burn out quickly if I do not address my own emotional needs.

My problem? I pour so much of myself emotionally into my work AND in my personal relationships. However, I either do not have or do not allow anyone into my life who will pour back into me. I admit that it is the latter.

Something happened along the way that caused me to shut myself off – and pouring myself out into my blogs and other writings is not the same as having healthy human, personal relationships with people who will pour back into me what I am consistently pouring out. (Hence, one of the biggest reasons I am missing my friend, Mike, so much these days.) We are still working on this. Although I have come a long way, I am, after all, still a work in progress.

That is why I have not been on social media as much nor blogging as much. It is also why I have pulled away from some relationships. It’s not that I no longer care. It’s just that I am working through some things and I simply have no more emotional energy outside of work and school right now to invest in others – until I figure out how to – or where to – go for the kind of relationships my therapist says I need for my own mental and emotional wellbeing.

Anyhoo . . . I digress. Here is my confessional, my gift, my hope for a healthy and whole future for us all.

Well, sis, I know this isn’t quite what you had in mind, but I hope it satisfies!

I love you! My bulldozer! 😊