ON HOLDING ON AND LETTING GO . . .

The Revd. Deacon Polly M. Bowen

“When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on,” says an old adage. I suppose in some cases there is some wisdom in this advice, but I much prefer the observation made by my friend Tom in an EFM class many years ago: “When you come to the end of your rope – LET GO,” said Tom. “That’s what faith is all about!”

I wonder how many of us are able to follow Tom’s advice. It’s so simple – and yet so difficult. We love to hold on to things. There’s a cluttered place in every house (and in every mind) that could rival Fibber McGee’s closet, and whenever the stuff falls out we quickly pack it all back in and slam the door on it. We keep our past treasures there – the things we have a need to hold on to. But also stored in that cluttered place are all the old moldy security blankets (by whatever name we call them) that have a strangle- hold on us. We seldom take the time to sort through these things in the pure light of faith and reason, so the idea of letting go of any of it makes us cringe.

When I was a grief counselor I specialized in helping people learn to let go. I often led workshops on grief and loss for other health professionals, and I counseled people who were dealing (or not dealing) with life-changing situations. Almost without exception, my clients were afraid to let go. They all felt as if they were at the end of that proverbial rope and they were holding on for Dear Life. The trouble was that the tighter they held on, the less dear Life seemed to them.

If that situation is familiar to you, here’s an exercise to try: imagine yourself being lowered (by a rope, of course) from a ship. The water is dark and cold and you don’t want to be there, and the rope connects you with the ship, where you were happy. But the ship is sinking, and you’re at the end of your rope. You have to make a choice. Tie a knot and hold on and you’ll go down with the ship. Thrash about and fight, and you’ll likely die of exhaustion without getting anywhere. Like it or not, your third choice is to let go of the rope and learn to swim in the water. It’s hard work, but the more you swim the stronger you’ll get. (Faith-muscles have a way of getting stronger with exercise, too.)

Listening to late-night call-in radio programs has convinced me that “holding on” is rampant in our society. We’re all afraid, and we’re all holding on to things we ought to let go of. The hatred that many of the callers verbalize toward anything or anyone “different” expresses a terrible fear of letting go. But those old anxieties will suffocate us. There is a sickness that breeds in the dark and cluttered closet of a closed mind. It’s a soul-sickness that won’t begin to heal until the door is thrown open and the contents exposed to the Light. Only then can we begin the necessary work of sorting, the keeping and the casting out, and finally the letting go that allows us to fall – no, leap – into the great security that is God. And the choice is always ours.

Thanks, Tom, for that beautiful image of faith.