Peanut butter

 Standing in the peanut butter aisle in the commissary (grocery store for landlubbers) Mark stopped the grocery cart. ‘You have to listen to this song,’ pointing to the loudspeaker. It is 1997, we had just been stationed at Sigonella, Sicily and Mark has started listening to country and western music on his commute.  Clint Black had just released this song, ‘ Love is something that you do.’ I am not a fan of country and western music; full disclosure, I pull my hearing aids out which, in effect, leaves me in a blissful silence. But Mark had his hands on the cart, so I listened. By the end of the song we were both wiping our eyes and again promising that love is something that we do. 

I thought of this song following our Sunday school discussion of Amy Jill Levine’s 5th chapter in her book ‘Difficult Words of Jesus.’ Something about ‘outer darkness and weeping and nashing of teeth.’ 

A reminder the conversation is as remembered not verbatim. 

There was acknowledgment that Dante’s graphic descriptions of the different levels of hell, to a large extent, probably shaped our imagination of heaven and hell more than theological references. Followed by a historical exploration of hell as a geographical location, moving into parable narratives pointing to final judgment. 

Others explored the possibility that losing the traditional language for reference points (up and down) might allow us to be focused in the here and now. 

How are we helping others now, find food, find shelter and rest?

As a mental health clinician I am curious about how the behaviors people engage in function for them. If I hear the references of heaven and view from a clinician’s ear, I wonder how these words, the phrases, these warnings, function for people of faith. 

Can we really not be counted on to do the right things without threats of damnation? Do we really need the warnings and threats of ‘weeping and nashing of teeth’ to act with integrity, kindness and love? 

What really motivates humans? 

Dr David Cooperrider, the founder of Appreciative Inquiry, Weatherhead School of Management at Case Western Reserve, has some ideas. One of the principles of Appreciative Inquiry is that awe is the strongest motivator for change. 

Awe. 

Not threats, not shaming, not damnation. 

Which reminded me of Clint Black song. Remembering what worked, and do it over and over again.