We begin a new sermon series this week called "Fables for Families," which is all about family systems. The "fables" we will be using are taken from the work of Edwin H. Friedman, the late rabbi and family therapist. I hope these stories, along with their biblical and personal parallels, help you to becoming a healthier leader and a healthier person in general. I have found the principles outlined in this series to be some of the most helpful and practical things I have ever learned.
And so we begin with a story:"There was a man who had given much thought to what he wanted from life. He had experienced many moods and trials. He had experimented with different ways of living, and he had had his share of both success and failure. At last, he began to see clearly where he wanted to go."
"Diligently, he searched for the right opportunity. Sometimes he came close, only to be pushed away. Often he applied all his strength and imagination, only to find the path hopelessly blocked. And then at last it came. But the opportunity would not wait. It would be made available only for a short time. If it were seen that he was not committed, the opportunity would not come again."
"Eager to arrive, he started on his journey. "Hurrying along, he came upon a bridge that crossed through the middle of a town. It had been built high above a river in order to protect it from the floods in spring. He started across. Then he noticed someone coming from the opposite direction. As they moved closer, it seemed as though the other were coming to greet him. He could see clearly, however, that he did not know this other, who was dressed similarly except for something around his waist.
"When they were within hailing distance, he could see that what the other had about his waist was a rope. It was wrapped around him many times and probably, if extended would reach a length of 30 feet.
"The other began to uncurl the rope, and, just as they were coming close, the stranger said, 'Pardon me, would you be so kind as to hold the end a moment?' Surprised by this politely phrased but curious request, he agreed without a thought, reached out, and took it.
"'Thank you,' said the other, who then added, 'two hands now, and remember, hold tight.' Whereupon, the other jumped off the bridge.
"Quickly, the free-falling body hurtled the distance of the rope's length, and from the bridge the man abruptly felt the pull. Instinctively, he held tight and was almost dragged over the side. He managed to brace himself against the edge, however, and after having caught his breath, look down at the other dangling, close to oblivion.
"'What are you trying to do?' he yelled. 'Just hold tight,' said the other. 'This is ridiculous,' the man thought and began trying to haul the other in. He could not get the leverage, however. It was as though the weight of the other person and the length of the rope had been carefully calculated in advance so that together they created a counterweight just beyond his strength to bring the other back to safety.
"'Why did you do this?' the man called out. 'Remember,' said the other, 'if you let go, I will be lost.' 'But I cannot pull you up,' the man cried. "'I am your responsibility,' said the other. 'Well, I did not ask for it,' the man said. 'If you let go, I am lost,' repeated the other.
"He began to look around for help. But there was no one. How long would he have to wait? Why did this happen to befall him now, just as he was on the verge of true success? He examined the side, searching for a place to tie the rope. Some protrusion, perhaps, or maybe a hole in the boards. But the railing was unusually uniform in shape; there were no spaces between the boards. There was no way to get rid of this newfound burden, even temporarily.
"'What do you want?' he asked the other hanging below. 'Just your help,' the other answered. "'How can I help? I cannot pull you in, and there is no place to tie the rope so that I can go and find someone to help me help you.'
"'I know that. Just hang on; that will be enough. Tie the rope around you waist; it will be easier.' Fearing that his arms could not hold out much longer, he tied the rope around his waist.
"'Why did you do this?' he asked again. 'Don't you see what you have done? What possible purpose could you have in mind?'
"'Just remember,' said the other, 'my life is in your hands.'
"What should he do? 'If I let go, all my life I will know that I let this other die. If I stay, I risk losing my momentum toward my own long-sought-after salvation. Either way this will haunt me forever.' With ironic humor he thought to die himself, instantly to jump off the bridge while still holding on. 'That would teach this fool.' But he wanted to live and to live life fully. 'What a choice I have to make; how shall I ever decide?'
At this point I want to interject into the story – what are the choices here? Are there more than two? What would you do? Discuss that for a moment with your neighbor.
One of the key issues we face in families and organizations is the role we play in our relationships to others. The story of the Bridge is a story about responsibility. For whom am I really responsible?
For some of us, hearing this story, the issue is really how to make the man who is hanging off the bridge take responsibility for himself. Whether you are a parent or you lead an organization, one of the things we are taught is that motivation is a key task in getting others to do what’s necessary. Most leadership theory is based on this thinking: how do we motivate the unmotivated?
Some will want to use charisma – the force of personality – to motivate the other. Hundreds of books are published each year with techniques on how to be a better parent or a better leader – ways to motivate and manipulate children or subordinates. Somehow we figure that if we could just push the right buttons, people would fall into line. Even governments can be based on this kind of thinking.
The flip side of that is consensus, trying to get everyone to be on the same page, making everyone happy to some degree. The will of the group is paramount. Motivation is supposed to happen because there is peace.
Both of these strategies for motivating the unmotivated sound great…we’re used to them. But the problem is that they rarely work for the long term.
On the charismatic side, all the responsibility falls on the leader or parent – and the more they function and attempt to motivate, the less motivation there is for anyone else in the system to be responsible. The man hanging off the bridge relies solely on the character of our hero who is holding the rope. As long as he is functioning, the dangler doesn’t have to. And, interestingly, what happens in that kind of system is that the least motivated are the ones who are really calling the shots and sucking up all the energy in the system.
Think about it – when someone in your home or office is continually in crisis, always needing help, the attention and energy always goes right to them. Like the man at the pool in the gospel lesson, there are those who are in a perpetual state of neediness and they drain the energy of those around them. They always need someone to lead them to the pool, but when they get there they’ll find another excuse, another problem. Like our dangler in the story, they spend all their time yelling “Help me!” And the reality is that the more we “help” the less effective that help can be.
On the consensus side, responsibility is given to the group which, left to its own devices and without clear leadership, tends to keep things in status quo. In consensus thinking, leadership is seen merely as enabling the group. Everything is counterbalanced, like the two men on the bridge. When the primary motivation becomes preservation of the status quo, no one gets anywhere and the situation becomes stuck. On some level, we like the idea of peace in a family or group – but peace rarely, if ever, leads to progress. Vision rarely comes as part of a group process. As I heard it once put, “For God so loved the world that he didn’t send a committee.”
Here’s one the basic tenets behind systems theory: you can’t motivate the unmotivated. You can’t make someone else be responsible. No amount of nagging, threats, or cajoling will truly motivate the unmotivated, whether it’s a child or a co-worker or a parent. Like our hero on the bridge, there are situations in which no amount of reasoning will work.
The honest truth is this: the only person you can ever make responsible is you. And the only way to help others be responsible is to focus on being responsible for yourself – knowing where you end and the other begins.
The term for this is “self-differentiation” – learning how to define yourself. Defining who you are and what you believe is more important than spending time telling people what is good for them or what they want to hear.
To put it another way…if you really want to change your family or your organization, that change starts with you.
Does that sound counter-intuitive? Think about it…we’re actually wired this way. Consider our own physiology – what is the purpose of your head, your brain? Ever thought about that? Is it thinking? Sensing? That’s part of it. But if you take it down to the basics, the real purpose of your head is not thinking, but the preservation of the health of the body. The brain thinks objectively, senses danger, moves the body from place to place all focused on preserving the body. The brain tells the body that it’s not good to jump off a bridge or cross the street in front of a speeding bus. The brain is differentiated from the rest of the body, but still connected to it. Scientifically we know that as our head goes, so goes our health – if our head is focused on stress and worry, the rest of the body will react with all kinds of physical ailments. Conversely, if our head is focused clearly on who we are and what we believe and what’s important, the body will tend to be more healthy.
The key to a healthy family or organization is not focusing on the body (the other), but focusing on the head (yourself). If the head is healthy, the body will follow suit.
I think that Jesus understood this better than anyone who ever lived. He is very self-differentiated and does not give his energy over to the anxiety of the others who circle around him. The man at the pool of Bethesda had been needy for most of his life. Notice how Jesus approaches him – he doesn’t say, “Here, let me make you feel better” or “Hey, how can I help you?” He asks, “Do you want to get well?” The question of responsibility is put on the one in need. Are you willing to take responsibility for your own health?
The man responds, not with a yes or no, but with excuses – I can’t get down the water, no one will help me – needy, needy, needy. Now, we would say that the “caring” thing to do would be to make sure this guy gets to the front of the line, right? We’d take responsibility for his pain. But not Jesus…
Jesus doesn’t help him – doesn’t take him down to the pool. Instead, he differentiates and puts the motivation squarely on the invalid…GET UP! Pick up your mat and walk.
Jesus didn’t take on the stress of others, but by defining himself made everyone he came in contact with just a bit more healthy. He made people responsible by being responsible for himself – he shifted the whole human system because he was able to define who he was and what he believed.
If you see your family or your organization as being dysfunctional, the person you need to be looking at is you…how are you contributing to the dysfunction by becoming enmeshed in the stuff of the others? How much energy and power are you giving to the unmotivated? When have you stated, in a non-anxious way, what you believe and acted according to that rather than according to the perceived needs of others?
How will you finally get across that bridge?
Back to our story…
"As time went by, still no one came. The critical moment of decision was drawing near. To show his commitment to his own goals, he would have to continue on his journey now. But what a terrible choice to have to make. A new thought occurred to him. While he could not pull this other up solely by his own efforts, if the other would shorten the rope from his end by curling it around his waist again and again, together they could do it. Actually, the other could do it by himself, so long as he, standing on the bridge, kept it still and steady.
"'Now listen,' he shouted down. 'I think I know how to save you.' And he explained his plan.
"But the other wasn't interested. 'You mean you won't help? But I told you I cannot pull you up myself, and I don't think I can hang on much longer either.' 'You must try,' the other shouted back in tears. 'If you fail, I die.'
"The point of decision arrived. What should he do? 'My life or this other's?' And then a new idea. A revelation. So new, in fact, it seemed heretical, so alien was it to his traditional way of thinking. 'I want you to listen carefully,' he said, 'because I mean what I am about to say. I will not accept the position of choice for your life, only for my own; the position of choice for your own life I hereby give back to you.'
"'What do you mean?' the other asked, afraid. 'I mean, simply, it's up to you. You decide which way this ends. I will become the counterweight. You do the pulling and bring yourself up. I will even tug a little from here.' He began unwinding the rope from around his waist and braced himself anew against the side.
"'You cannot mean what you say,' the other shrieked. 'You would not be so selfish. I am your responsibility. What could be so important that you would let someone die? Do not do this to me.' He waited a moment. There was no change in the tension of the rope. 'I accept your choice,' he said, at last, and freed his hands."
Some of you here today have been holding on to ropes for a long time – a rope someone has given you. You find yourself stuck there on the bridge, trying to move on with your life while trying to motivate the unmotivated.
You might be a parent whose nagging and cajoling haven’t motivated that underachieving teenager. You are at the end of your rope.
You might be a manager who has employees who are constantly in crisis. You are at the end of your rope.
You might be a child, whose divorced parents have you in a tug of war, each telling you how much they need you over and against the other parent. You are at the end of your rope.
Or maybe, just maybe, you’ve been the one handing out ropes…giving responsibility for your life over to someone else. Your salvation and life are dependent on the unsuspecting others around you..
And if none of these apply to you, I guarantee that sometime, somewhere, and soon – someone is going to come along and quietly hand you a rope…probably when things are going well for you. What will you do?
Don’t misunderstand – the issue here is not detaching from everyone around you and purposefully throwing others off the bridge. Self-differentiation doesn’t mean we ignore the needs of others – quite the contrary. We learn to truly “help” others when we learn to define ourselves. This is the basic building block of family systems and we’ll get into that more in this series of fables.
It’s simply a matter of using your head …knowing where your responsibility ends and another begins – to be clear about who you are and what you believe. To define yourself. There are consequences for every action, good and bad. But unless you can begin to operate in a self-defined way, you will always be stuck on the bridge in a pointless effort to try and motivate the unmotivated.
What would happen if you learned to let go? What would happen if you gave responsibility back to the “hangers-on”. What would happen if you asked the question of others or, especially, of yourself – “Do you want to get well?”
It begins with you!
Source: Edwin Friedman - Friedman's Fables, "The Bridge"
Also highly recommended is Friedman's book A Failure of Nerve.
For a brief film outlining Friedman's approach to family systems, click here.
Recent Comments