Covid and Emotional Resilience: Part Three - Anxiety

This post is part of a series prepared for Holy Week 2020, when our spiritual responses to the somber Lenten readings are tempered by emotions rising to the surface as we continue in Lockdown in New Zealand. 

This series of Holy Week devotions, focussing each day on a particular emotion, continues today with Anxiety. (Monday was Anger, Tuesday was Ambivalence.) Interestingly the New Zealand government has just announced a special Mental Health initiative, based on the likelihood that after two weeks of Lockdown, we will all be somewhat fragile.        

Wednesday – Resting at Bethany 

Tradition tells us that in the Wednesday of Holy Week  Jesus and his team rested in Bethany (the one on the outskirts of Jerusalem), and from Luke we can see they were likely accommodated there not just that day but each night (Luke 21: 37). The house of Simon the Pharisee is mentioned and seems to have been spacious. (Occasionally he is called Simon the Leper; that must mean a leper who has been healed and restored else he would not have been living on close quarters with others). The other place we know from Bethany is the home of close friends of Jesus – Lazarus and his two sisters Martha and Mary. They all seem to have been unmarried, which adds veracity to the notion that they were sympathisers with the celibate Essene sect. Smaller than the Pharisees and Sadducees, the group was nonetheless numbered in the thousands, and had clusters of adherents in towns like Bethany and Jerusalem, as well as in desert monasteries at Qumran. Some scholars noting that only one place of lodging is implied, have suggested that Simon and Lazarus are the same person. That is intriguing but not our focus for today. Neither is the problematic matter of the anointing of Jesus, which clearly happened, and maybe twice, but the identity of woman involved is not clear.

What came to mind as I prepared this devotion was to focus on the sister Martha, a person of faith I have long admired. Mary gets a lot of airtime, because of her reputation as a learner, one who “sat at the feet of Jesus”, the Hebrew way of denoting discipleship. But it’s clear that all three of them were followers of Jesus, and that the miracle raising of Lazarus from the tomb had clarified for them that Jesus was the promised Messiah. Martha was in fact the thinker of the group. She’s often seen as the practical one, busy in the kitchen making sure she can feed a large group, but personality theories like Myers Briggs show that thinkers are often driven by big picture goals and detailed lists of tasks that will accomplish those. Mary was more of a feeler, and a people person, content to leave the kitchen and sit dreamily with the other disciples, hanging on Jesus’ every word. But it was Martha who declared aloud – while her brother was still in the tomb - that clear theological insight, perhaps mulled over as she baked and cleaned: “Yes, Lord, I have always believed you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who has come into the world from God.” (Jn 11:27). It seems Martha is no kitchen drudge; she is a thinker, a theologian of wisdom and perception, and she has already made her thoughtful judgment about Jesus. 

But of course we know the story from a few weeks earlier – Martha had been rebuked by Jesus. He had seen her busy with the food, and – I imagine gently - remonstrated with her for too much serving and not enough listening. As the hostess – Martha means oldest, or lady of the house – she took it for granted Jesus would side with her and get her sister up to help. “Master, don’t you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand.”  But No, Jesus chided her for being precious – perhaps for cooking too much, since he said ‘one thing is enough’. “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing.” (Lk 10: 41) At this moment, when his time is precious, she should be ready to sit and listen with her sister. He wasn’t rejecting her kitchen service, he knew they all had to eat, and was thankful. But this time she had got it wrong – and Jesus told her so. “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details!”

This event – and the fact that Jesus found the house at Bethany a restful and safe place to be during what he knew was going to be a tough if not dangerous week – brings to mind the emotion of Anxiety. Whether that’s what we call it, or if we say I’m stressing, or worrying or overwhelmed, we are all subject to anxiety. In fact, normal anxiety is what gets us motivated to compete a task or solve a problem.  Anxiety is what has got me up in the morning to write posts every day this week! A normal level of stress is what gets meals on the table, customers served and patients cared for. But Lockdown has changed the dynamics, and some of us are experiencing anxiety to a pathological degree. What does God have to say to us in the midst of such a storm of worry?

Well my posts of the last two days are a start. Recognising when we are feeling angry or ambivalent, and talking about that with God or with others is therapeutic. David knew that, and the Psalms are full of both anger and ambivalence. So Scripture is good place to go to settle down anxiety and to bring a more healthy perspective. So too is fresh air and exercise; I have never experienced those endorphins people talk about, but I do know the daily walk around our home in Auckland NZ has been restorative. My doctor husband recommends sunlight too, not just for the essential Vitamin D but for keeping the whole immune system in balance. 

As an introvert, I find journalling really helpful. No one ever gets to read it, but writing down thoughts and anxieties does get things in proportion. On my website is a Holy Week Spiritual Practice called Six Minutes for Six Days; it could get you started on a journal. Drawing your feelings is a specific type of journalling that can also be cathartic. Use big crayons, even in your left hand, and access that part of your brain you don’t usually use. 

Suggestion – draw a pill bottle or a fruit basket, and fill it with pills/fruit that you can label peace, calm, self esteem, being loved and so on. When you feel worried, mime taking one!
Families – this is an excellent mindfulness exercise for kids. They might think of a way of making it more kinesthetic – with an actual jar.


Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Phil 4: 6, 7

Graphic from Renewyourmind.co.nz

Other practices for anxiety 

Mindfulness  - there is heaps of help online – see psychologist Chantal Hofstee 
Art and Craft
Music
Breathing
Long hot bath or spa
Housework that achieves something tangible - clearing shelves, sorting clothes for charity, gardening, painting etc.


All of these can be adopted as a posture of prayer. That’s what Jesus was getting at. He didn’t reject Martha’s service – just her obsession with daily tasks that could have been put aside for the sake of enjoying the moment. 

What is Jesus saying to you?

Slow me down, Lord ...
Ease the pounding of my heart, by the quieting of my mind.
Steady my hurried pace.
Give me, amidst the day's confusion, the calmness of the everlasting hills. 
Break the tensions of my nerves and muscles with the soothing music 
of singing streams that live in my memory.

Help me to know the magical, restoring power of sleep.
Teach me the art of taking "minute vacations" ...
slowing down to look at a flower, to chat with a friend,
to read a few lines from a good book. 

Remind me of the fable of the hare and tortoise ...
that the race is not always to the swift;
that there is more to life than measuring its speed. 
Let me look up at the branches of the towering oak
and know that it grew slowly and well.

Inspire me to send my own roots down deep
into the soil of life's endearing values ...
that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny. 
©Wilfred A. Peterson 

       

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