My brother-in-law recently showed some footage of a family
gathering in Switzerland many years ago. In the video, I was on a reclining
lawn chair, trying to be oblivious to what was going on around me. My two kids
were having the time of their life cavorting with their Swiss cousins. Unfortunately,
the grimace on my face revealed that I wasn’t exactly having the same delight
as my children.
I was in my early forties when this was filmed. I was
working on construction during my summer off from teaching in order to pay for
our trip to visit relatives in Switzerland. The weather was hot, and the work
was demanding, both physically and with a language that was not my native
tongue. Even though the job that awaited me back at home was better than
pounding nails and driving screws, I was getting increasingly restless with it.
My life seemed out of control. I was in great need of “Gelassenheit.”
“Gelassenheit” is a term from the German that is often used
to describe a quality of life of the Anabaptists, the radical arm of the
Reformation in Europe in the 16th Century. There have been numerous
attempts to translate what this term means as related to the Anabaptist life
and practice.
In chapter eight of our book The Spacious Heart, I write
extensively about the concept of Gelassenheit. I cite this as part of the
discussion: “According to the Global
Anabaptist Encyclopedia Online,” I write, “these are the multiple meanings
of the word: ‘self-surrender, resignation in God’s will, yieldedness to God’s
will, self-abandonment, the (passive) opening to God’s willing, including the
readiness to suffer for the sake of God, also peace and calmness of mind.’”
These definitions are all wonderful descriptions of
spiritual qualities that as Christians, we would do well to emulate. However, if you look the word up in a modern
English/German dictionary, you won’t find any of these definitions. The first
word that normally appears is “serenity.” So perhaps for better understanding,
a little parsing of the word would be helpful.
“Gelassen” is the past participle of the verb “lassen,”
which means “to leave [behind]” and “to let [allow].” An interesting side note.
Eastern Pennsylvania, where I grew up, was preponderantly settled by German
speakers. To this day, because of the influence of the German, English speakers
from this area have a hard time distinguishing between “to let” and “to leave.”
“Gelassen” can also be used as an adjective. As such it
means: “unhurried, calm, easy-going.” I would add “laid-back.” This gets a
little closer to the spiritual qualities of the Anabaptists listed above, especially
self-abandonment. Adding the suffix “heit” to “gelassen” turns our adjective
into a noun, like turning the English adjective “helpful” into the noun
“helpfulness” by adding the suffix “ness.” The suffix here turns helpful into, “the state or quality of being helpful. ”
For the purpose of this blog, I would like to define “Gelassenheit”
as “the state or quality of being easy-going or laid-back.”
Until my middle twenties, I was considered to be easy-going
and carefree. In fact, I was often criticized for not taking life seriously
enough. I was the book definition of “Gelassenheit”. This all changed when I
was confronted with the realities of poverty and oppression that I experienced
during my years as a volunteer in Central America. I became a cynical, bitter
adult, suppressing my anger at not being able to do much about the situation of
my friends. Becoming a father and career responsibilities added to my becoming
more “uptight” than “easy-going.” These realities caused the grimace on my face
in the home video mentioned earlier.
To deal with my spiritual crisis, I did years of inner work,
looking for the source of my restlessness, and finding my inner God image and
likeness. Numerous forms of prayer, meditation, dream work, contemplative
walking, and other forms of inner work, helped me to return to what God made me
to be, rather than what the outer world forced on me. In our book that I
mentioned earlier, I write extensively about these processes.
Recently, my wife Esther and I were returning from another
family visit. We had a wonderful time with her family, visiting, joking and
just enjoying the moment. I innocently asked her if she noticed any change in
my demeanor at such family reunions. “Absolutely,” she said without needing to
think about it. “You are not nearly as uptight.” I’ve become more easy-going
and laid back. I returned to the Gelassenheit of my youth.
The spiritual journey I was on, however, was not an
overnight victory. It took years of difficult confrontation with my inner
demons. People who fail to do the necessary inner work remain angry and
resentful well into their old age. It doesn’t take much effort to see the
grimaces on faces you pass along the way. Unfortunately, they far outnumber the
faces that reflect the image and likeness of God.
Perhaps I haven’t gained all the qualities of Gelassenheit
mentioned in the Global Anabaptist
Encyclopedia I cited above. However, my parsing of the word, and parsing of
my spiritual journey, show that I have come a remarkable way.
Solo Dei gloria
Yes; the Amish (my heritage) hold Gelassenheit to be one of their cardinal virtues, though it may at times be honored in the breach rather than observed. Richard Rohr is no doubt referring to something very similar when he writes of those who undo their own efforts at social justice because they "do all the fighting from their small or angry selves" (from his 2014 book Dancing Standing Still: Healing the World from a Place of Prayer). But I suspect there's an age factor here as well; we tend to become more mellow as we age. But that too can be a choice. Erik Erikson describes his eighth stage of development (65+) as a choice between finding closure and completeness on the one hand and it's opposite, cynicism and despair, on the other. Maybe that's a kind of Gelassenheit, too.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your astute comments, JHYoder. I think you are right that it is age related, and a question of choice. Rohr says basically the same thing in "Falling Upward." But it is my contention as well as Rohr's that a) our culture does not allow us to let go, and b) that we need to learn to let go through contemplation, something else our culture doesn't allow. I don't know in which of Erikson's stages it fits, but he talks about the importance of "generativity," a quality necessary for your generation. I've tried to do this in both my teaching and in my writing. That too, is Gelassenheit. Letting go of one's wisdom/knowledge and passing it on to the next generation.
DeleteI meant to say "our" generation.
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