“Sticky Stability”
a sermon by Rev. Kimi Riegel
Delivered January 8, 2006, at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Church

One evening a man came home and announced that he was dead.
Immediately his family and neighbors tried to show him how foolish this notion was. He walked, and dead men cannot move. He was thinking, and he was breathing, and that, after all, is the quintessence of living. But none of the arguments had any effect. No matter what reason was brought to bear, he always came back with another. Every now and then someone thought, “Now I have pinned him down.” But then he would use his trump; “If I am dead you do not exist either, since surely the living do not traffic in the dead.”

After a time, the neighbors gave up. His wife was beside herself and had taken to internal dialogues. “If he believes that, how can he do this? If he does that, how can he think this?”
Finally, it was agreed that outside help was needed. A psychiatrist was called in.
The two went into a room and closed the door. Loud voices, mostly of the psychiatrist, were heard.

After a time they emerged. The doctor had his jacket over his arm, his necktie had been loosened and his collar opened. As for the man, he seemed totally unchanged. “Hopelessly psychotic,” muttered the psychiatrist, “you will have to have him committed. He has lost all awareness of reality. If you want, I will call the hospital.”
“Now, really,” said the man calmly, “What kind of therapy would you prescribe for a dead man? Surely, sir, if it were known that you had tried to cure a man who was not even alive…talk about losing one’s grip on reality.” The doctor left.

A clergyman was sought. The family minister was unavailable. What type would then be the best, the modern kind who had some sophistication about psychological problems? Or perhaps a good old-fashioned fundamentalist? As it happens, that evening, a well-known evangelist was in town to speak at a nearby theater. When he heard about the problem he rushed over, thinking how this success might be used to introduce the show. Once again, the group was left to strain after the voices behind a closed-door. Again, at first nothing was audible, then the rising tones, and again, never the man's voice rising. This time the clergymen came out alone, stopped, looked to everyone, nervously kissed a little black book, and bolted out the door. Several cautiously peeked into the room. The man was fast asleep.

It was now decided that the family doctor should be called. He had known the man since he was a little boy, and besides, being a physician with a reputation for practice and skill, he was respected everywhere for his homey wisdom. He came quickly, and after one or two questions in front of everyone, he asked the man in a no-nonsense way, “Tell me- do dead men bleed?”
“Of course not,” said the man.
“Then,” said the doctor, “Would you allow me to make a small cut in your arm, say above the elbow? I will treat it; there's no reason to worry about infection. I'll stop the flow immediately, and we can see, once and for all, whether you are dead.”

With everyone watching anxiously, the doctor deftly slit the flesh, and blood came spurting out. There was a gasp of joy throughout the group. Some laughed; others even applauded; a few seemed rather relieved.

The doctor quickly dressed the wound and turned to everyone, saying, “Well, I hope that puts an end to this foolishness.” Everyone was congratulating the physician when they suddenly realized that the man was headed for the door. As he opened it, he turned to the group and said, “I see that I was wrong.” Then, as he turned to leave, he added, “Dead men, in fact, do bleed”.

This fable was written by Edwin Friedman, who is the guru of the family systems thinking and its application to the religious community. “Systems thinking is basically a way of thinking about life as all of a piece . . . about how the whole is arranged, how its parts interact.” Systems thinking is helpful when looking at families, organizations, and even the natural world.

I have preached on church health and the use of family systems thinking before. I find Friedman's theories very useful. There are basically five interrelated concepts that distinguish this family model of looking at life from the individual or mechanistic model. They are the idea of the identified patient, the concept of homeostasis or balance, differentiation of self, the extended family field, and emotional triangles. I have preached about differentiation and emotional triangles. Differentiation means the capacity of a member to define his or herself, life goals and values, apart from the surrounding togetherness pressures; in other words, to be able to say “I” when the group or family is demanding “we.” It includes the capacity to maintain a non-anxious presence in the middle of anxious systems. The basic law of emotional triangles is that when any two parts of a system become uncomfortable with one another, they will focus on a third as a way of stabilizing their relationship. In addition, I've spoken about secrets and how to keep them a healthy part of every community in family. You can find those sermons on the web.

Homeostasis, or balance, our topic for this morning, is the natural inclination of systems to seek equilibrium. Homeostasis is an essential and necessary, as well as a frustrating, limiting part of every system. It is neither good nor bad and it is both good and bad, but most importantly, it just is. Every living system seeks balance. Hans Selye, a physician who has done monumental work on stress, explains the balance that systems theorists call homeostasis. “One of the most characteristic features of all living beings is their ability to maintain the constancy of their internal milieu. . .For instance, [one] can be exposed to great cold or heat without varying [one’s] own temperature.” Selye calls this the “self-regulating power,” and whenever it fails, “there is disease or even death.”

Applied to social entities, homeostasis becomes, according to organizational experts Speed Leas and George Parsons, “the tendency for a system, relationship, or organization to mold the behavior of others into predictable patterns, making it possible for us to ‘get along,’ to do work, to find safety, to trust.” Without this inclination, every time we are together we’d have to form relationships all over again. What a task that would be!

If we apply these metaphors to families, we can see why those that tend to be healthy stay healthy and those that tend to dysfunction stay that way as well. Each has developed organizing principles of existence. They have ways of being, ways of doing the business of family, that keep things familiar. Take a family with an ineffective mother. She lectures and threatens rather than taking stands on what she is willing to do. The husband, however, depends on her to be adaptive in their relationship. As much as he (as a parent) would like his child to get better, if he senses that the change in his adaptive wife necessary for continued growth in their child will disturb the balance of his marriage, he resists the change.

For the dead man, being dead was his balanced state. His organizing principle for life was that he was not living. Rather than change, the dead man adapted the information he was gathering. He believed he was dead. That was homeostasis for him. He would not allow any other feedback to change the system. Information was filtered to maintain his internal view of the world. From our perspective, we might say that his feedback system had become faulty.

Feedback is part of every system. Feedback is what allows the system to stay in balance. When our body is cold, feedback to the system is to turn up the heat. Feedback is an important part of change that maintains balance. There many types of feedback systems. There are the basic positive and negative feedback systems that we find in natural processes. Cancer, for instance, has lost its negative feedback systems; there's nothing to inhibit its growth, balance is lost. Our reading this morning indicates how governmental systems, the checks and balances that we are familiar with, could be called negative feedback systems and are essential for the appropriate change of any organization. Feedback is both what preserves the system and allows it to change.

Feedback systems can be either/or slow or quick to respond. I often think about the example of the thermostat in my shower at home. It reminds me of the importance of quick feedback systems. When I feel the water and it’s cold, I turn up the hot water, check the temperature, turn it up some more, then get into the shower and get scalded. The response time of the thermostat feedback system is too slow, or maybe I'm just not patient. Every feedback system has a certain amount of resistance to it. Resistance is what keeps the system from overreacting or changing too often. Perhaps the thermostat at home has too much resistance. Too much resistance and change never happens; too little resistance and stability is never established.

Congregations are systems like families, governments, and even plumbing. We have operational principles that we are reluctant to change. For instance, we see ourselves as a friendly congregation, and we are, but would we allow the feedback that would make us adapt if someone suggested we are not? Also, we see ourselves as the bastion of those dissatisfied with mainstream religious choices and we are, but doesn’t that keep us out of the mainstream? And maybe we want to be, but maybe we don’t. Maybe that is part of our identity and we like it that way, thank you very much, and you can keep your feedback to yourself. Anyway, you get the picture.

When there is a movement for change, say the building of a new worship space, or a new look to the order of service, there will be resistance. Thank goodness. It is easy enough to say that resistance is bad for a congregation. It might also be said, however, that if there is no resistance in a congregation, then it may be that nothing challenging is going on. Although a statement such as “Resistance is good!” may seem naïve, still resistance can be a sign of vital, high-quality, and faithful life in a congregation.

So for this morning, we might say stability is good, unless it is dysfunctional, and resistance is healthy, unless it prevents vigorous changes. How do we know?

The feedback system. As we make changes we need to keep the feedback system accessible and active. Not too reactive but open and listening for trends and suggestions. For my part, I will continue to include the feedback forms in every order of service. Won’t you please use them? Won’t you attend the discussions? Won’t you attend the congregational meetings? Your feedback is essential for our healthy system- this church.

In all the systems of our lives let us seek a healthy balance; one that listens for resistance, one that leaves us with our individuality, our differentiation, yet gives us an identity and one that promotes direct communication, keeping an eye on those triangles.

Namaste.

Welcoming Resistance: A Path to Faithful Ministry, by William Chris Hobgood
Generation to Generation by Edwin Freidman