My son doesn’t like getting his photo taken because of what his friends call “resting Jo face.” His pals assume he’s in a bad mood because his resting face can appear quite grumpy. I didn’t really know what to do with my face either when I was a teenager…
Let’s talk about facial expression for a sec…
Recently a prominent conservative pastor passed away and became a topic of conversation among the ex-vangelical crowd. When I saw his photo circulating online, I noticed a more than subtle emotional wave somersaulting in my belly. His very appearance — mostly facial expression and tone of voice — was a trigger for me and so many others. Even without touching on his patriarchal, misogynistic, and racist theology, that look on his face and the sound of his voice were enough. His sermons were barely necessary since his smug face and puckered countenance clearly described his perception of God.
The problem is, many of us were taught to blindly follow leaders like him along with certain translations of the Bible, political parties, etc. all while distrusting our gut intuitions. Looking back on so many harmful seasons of life, how often have we, in retrospect, looked ourselves in the mirror and said, I knew there was something off about that guy.
Two people could say the exact same phrase — “God loves you,” or even more simply, “I love you” — but we all know how drastically different those words land depending on presence and posture - the bodily delivery system.
Marshall McLuhan, the communication theorist, coined the powerful phrase:
“The medium is the message.”
Of course, the content is important but the package it’s delivered in - the tone, texture, and face — plays an equally if not more important role.
The past ten years have been our cultural Rorschach test. When I click on a news article and there’s a picture of Trump (which is most articles on politics or culture these days), I notice myself tense up, cringe, and attempt to read the article without looking directly at the image. I feel manipulated, threatened, on guard just seeing his pitiful face — and I’m a white straight man. I can’t tell you how many women I know, especially those who are survivors of abuse, go into full-bodied panic at the sight of his image. The medium is the message.
My son’s “resting Jo face” just might be genetic, because his grandpa had what you might call a “resting Russ face.” But with my dad there was usually some serious cynicism or latent anger that shaped his bodily expressions. His face was more weary and guarded than resting.
Toward the end of his life, I witnessed a small but meaningful emotional shift in my dad. He began to let go, even if just a little. On occasion, I began noticing a few tears well up. It felt so inviting and warm — like medicine maybe strong enough to heal some of the disorder to our relationship. Like the man behind the face was subtly beginning to come out of hiding.
I’ve been praying for tears lately.
I have breakfast with a friend once a month who doesn’t make it through a single meeting without shedding tears over something beautiful. He used to get embarrassed until I told him how much I appreciate and even envy his tears. So now, he’s been praying for me — that I could allow for more water to be released from my eyes and heart.
Yes, tears are a severe longing of mine these days. So is real, gut-busting, out-of-control laughter. (I laughed HARD all the time as a kid… especially during quiet sermons or long prayers when it was most taboo!) Both tears and laughter seem to indicate that I’m leading less with my ego and more from my heart. I just don’t trust myself — or God, or others — nearly as well when I’m not in close proximity to tears and laughter.
I’ll benedict this post with a blessing. I guess it’s mostly for me, but please feel welcome to take it with you if you’d like…
(Take a good deep breath or two… )
May our faces soften.
May our good words match the gentle warmth of our eyes.
May we be granted the gift of tears, the liberation of laughter, and the courage to be seen, even if we’re not smiling.
Because, love doesn’t always need to be said but it is begging to be shown.
these thoughts brought to you by 2 days of sitting beside the Arkansas River
