Aug 5 2019 Mark 8: 11-21

'It is because we have no bread.'

The disciples have again gotten in a boat with Jesus to travel to the other side, after Jesus again has argued with the Pharisees. The disciples have no bread with them, although they’d recently lived through the feeding of the 5000, so they have history of Jesus, bread, and miracles.

As they’re in the boat, Jesus warns them of the ‘yeast of Pharisees’. The disciples don’t understand this apparent non sequitur. Their response is to assume he’s talking literally about yeast, and it must be ‘because we have no bread’. Jesus is flabbergasted, as they’d just left the Pharisees and just seen a bread miracle. And yet, they respond with the tangible and concrete. Jesus’ response is to ask them if they still don’t understand, if their hearts are hardened, eyes but can’t see, ears but can’t hear.

I must admit that I can relate to the disciples. More often than not, I respond to the concrete, to what I see and hear. In the world of personality typing, I’m a strong S – sensor. And yet, while those senses are tangible – sight, hearing, taste – they can be incredibly misleading.

My sick loved one doesn’t communicate as they once did. Their words make sense, but once strung together, the sentences don’t. At all. Or when they say something mean or nonsensical, there is no reason behind it – at least none they can articulate.

In an early support class, we were taught a skill that I still struggle to implement. It has to do with empathetic, reflective listening. But with a twist. In reflective listening with co-workers, I can reflect back what I heard them say. To the concrete. With my loved one, I’m encouraged to reflect back with my best guess of the feelings undergirding the concrete. For example, in response to their comment about interacting positively with a delusion, I can join the conversation by responding to their joy, not the delusion itself. Or when comments are negative, or angry, the words themselves often betray their scattered brain. But their emotions are clear. That’s what I need to respond to, not the concrete.

As such an incredible logical and sensing person, this is tough for me. Often, I find myself thinking, “It’s because brought no bread”, or whatever the concrete comparison is at the moment. I can imagine my loved one thinking, “do you still not understand?”, as Jesus responded to the disciples. 

This morning, I’m thinking about all the stuff that is behind or beneath the concrete. Whether it’s communicating with my loved one, or my husband, there is always more to the story than the words portray. Today, I’ll try to see beyond the concrete, and respond to that. It’s not about the bread in the boat.