Rather Than Numb

Rather Than Numb--July 5, 2016

"So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another." [Ephesians 4:25]

There is a difference, isn't there, between the absence of pain because your body is well and healthy, on the one hand, and the masking of pain with anesthesia. 

Of course, to experience each of them feels similar, in that there is a lack of pain.  But the similarity ends there.  Nobody would confuse the artificial numbness and unresponsiveness of being under general anesthesia with being awake, alert, and well.  There may be moments in which you need to be under anesthesia--say, during a major surgery. And of course, the reality of pain is what leads so many to look for things--we usually call them addictions--that help to numb the pain of the world.  But as a strategy for life, it is not better to be numb and pain-free than to be fully alive and awake, but susceptible to pain. 

So... if we know that about life and anesthesia, why do we have such a hard time with casual lying or deception of other people in the name of "sparing them pain"?  We really do have a truth-telling problem, the whole lot of us, and we often use the justification that we only intend to "spare" so-and-so something unpleasant.  It's the worst kind of way to mess up our relationships with other people, because in our minds we are doing the "nice" thing by sparing our friends, relatives, and coworkers... but it creates distance and distrust. 

I mean, I get it.  As a strategy, "I-don't-want-to-hurt-feelings" falsehoods come from a place of good intention--you don't want to hurt someone else, and you would like to shield them from pain.  But of course, as we know, being free of pain might not be a sign that you are well and healthy--it might be a sign you are asleep and numb, and numbness is not a good strategy for dealing with life.  Nobody is as good a liar/hurt-feelings-avoider as they think they are... which means that people we try to help by hiding the truth can often tell they are not getting the whole story from us, and they end up feeling worse that we didn't think they could handle whatever it is we thought they were too fragile to deal with.  Now the other person is hurt anyway, and they have less trust in you as a support than they did before, when they need you as a support.  More pain caused, all in the name of sparing it.

And that's because anesthesia is not a cure--it is a cover.  Nothing really gets healed by being unconscious under anesthesia; it just masks pain while the doctors or surgeons are doing something else to help make you well.  Same thing with our relationships with others--when I hold something back that I am afraid you might not want to hear, or when I casually massage the truth to suit something that will avoid something unpleasant, it is an anesthesia strategy for a real problem that won't go away by just ignoring or covering it. 

Consider this--for all the times the New Testament writers talk about showing love to others (and yeah, that's a pretty big theme for the community of Jesus), you don't hear the first disciples teaching each other, "Remember to walk on eggshells around here and don't really say what you think.  Remember not to tell Thaddeus that bad news about his cousin in Thessalonica."  You don't hear any talk of covering or spinning or omitting the truth in the name of "Christ-like love," because that sends the unspoken message that "We can all hang together as long as things aren't going too badly."

No, rather, the New Testament calls us to be utterly real with each other, and in doing so, we add the hopeful message, "I can dare to tell you this, because I know that the living God is strong enough to get you and me through it, and because even when the worst of the worst happens in life, the living God has the power to work resurrection over all that we thought was lost."  The first followers of Jesus taught one another, as in today's verse, to "speak the truth to our neighbors" for the very reason that "we are members of one another."  In other words, we are here with one another, sticking it out with each other no matter what comes.  As long as we can be genuine and real with each other, sharing bad news when it needs to be shared, and striving not to put "spin" on things, we make the implicit promise that in Christ we belong to each other and that not even the worst of life's bad news can separate those connections. 

When I am real with you--that is, no well-intentioned but ultimately hurtful falsehoods or omissions--I am saying to you along with the truth that I believe the God whose love holds us together is bigger than whatever frightens me or whatever I think might be unpleasant for you.  And when we get to be known for being real, for being truthful people, then it builds the trust with the people around us that we really will be there for them when the next challenge in life comes along, whatever it is. 

The bottom line is that we belong to each other, and so the most grace-filled way to live with one another in community is honestly, rather than pulling punches.  It says to the people around us, "I am willing to bear pain with you," rather than, "I would rather just keep you numb so I don't have to deal with your pain."  The gift of someone else sharing pain with you is grace.  You never know that, never sense that, if you are kept numb to it.

So today, let us be truthful.  Let us be real.  Let the people around you know that they matter enough to you for you to be willing to share pain with them, rather than keeping them under anesthesia.

Lord Jesus, pull us from our patronizing good intentions to love others genuinely, through the things that are sometimes unpleasant, so that we can all know the genuineness of your love for us all.