Newspaper Page Text
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February 7,1980
PAGE 5
Emotional And Financial Problems Of Divorce
BY ANTOINETTE BOSCO
Everyone remembers how bouncy and
cheerful Mary R. used to be when she and
her husband and three small children first
moved into the suburban area where she still
lives. Only now they worry about her. She
rarely smiles, doesn’t mix with neighbors.
The house looks unkempt on the outside,
with grass overgrown, shrubs untrimmed and
the wood shingles badly in need of a
painting.
KNOW
YOUR
FAITH
(ah Articles On This Page
Copyrighted 1980 By N.C. News Service)
The change in Mary happened quite
suddenly, three years ago when her husband
walked out, moved to a different state with
another woman and left her to complete the
job of raising her children, now ranging in
age from 11 to 15, with no income.
I talked to her recently. She was about to
have a birthday and her attitude was, “I
don’t care if I ever have another birthday.”
Her latest depression had been caused by her
two sons having a fight over a game of chess.
“Everything in my life is chaos,” she said,
sweeping her arms around the room. “If
anyone was trying to locate me, they
couldn’t miss my house. It’s the one that
needs the paint.
Inside, it’s the one with the broken
chairs, the leaky washing machine and the
holes in the rug. We had beans and rice again
for dinner. How can I raise a family on $150
a week? Yet, that’s what I’m trying to do —
and, Toni,” she said, her eyes filling with
tears, “I’m not making it — not financially
and not emotionally.”
Mary’s situation is not unique. Thousands
of mothers heading a family alone today are
in a similar distressing state. They are trying
to cope with all the ego-shattering facets of
single parenting brought on by the sense of
being a diminished, less worthy person and
the nagging fears that you’re a failure, while
at the same time, being plunged into a new
kind of devastating ego-blast: poverty.
A high percentage of families headed by a
woman alone are poor. Statistics bear this
out. Median earnings of men are 85 percent
more than those of women; yet 45 percent
of working women are breadwinners of a
household. In dollars, the median income of
mother-headed families nationally is from
$6,400 to $7,000 annually. That’s poverty.
Psychologists verify that poverty itself is
a leading cause of depression. All too often
depression is looked upon as sadness. In fact,
30 and 40 years ago, the medical diagnosis
was “melancholia.” Now we know that
depression may look like sadness, but it is,
in reality, supressed, quiet anger. That raises
one more question, what causes the anger?
From my personal experience and from
what I’ve learned by being involved with
divorced and separated Catholics for a
decade, there’s a common denominator. The
anger is caused by the sense of being unfairly
abandoned by husband and God, and left
trapped in a situation you don’t like and
can’t leave. The depression is a disability
which saps one’s energy, one’s vision, one’s
caring about self, others and life itself. When
a mother is in this disabled state, there is a
spillover effect which settles like gloom over
the family. The family is joyless and it is in
trouble.
How can a family move out of this
condition and restore itself? I don’t have a
formula for curing this malady. I do know,
however, that unless the divorced mother
can lead herself and her children out of the
depths and back into the flow of life where
hope and a sense qf expectation for better
times abound, she and her family are in
trouble emotionally, psychologically,
physically and spiritually. There is a maxim
that says: “The mark of God’s presence is
joy.” Conversely, where there is no joy, it is
the sign that trust in a loving God has faded.
A joyless family is spiritually bleak.
Healing is, of course, what is needed,
because divorce leaves terrible wounds. As a
first step in starting the healing process, a
divorced mother in a disabled state has to
move, has to do something. Somehow, she
has to find the power-source that forces her
to act in a way that triggers a change in her
life. She can try for a better job, join a
support group such as Divorced and
Separated Catholics or Parents Without
Partners, take an adult education course to
learn new skills or, if her depressed state has
become too severe to be jolted or turned
around by her own efforts, she should seek
professional help in the' same way that
anyone seeks medical help for body illnesses.
In these very severe cases, the mother
should seek help from her parish, Catholic
Charities, local family service agencies,
and-or local public social services offices.
Some divorced mothers have told me that
they have too much pride to ask for help. I
have responded that the help needed is
temporary, and the caring people in these
places are professionals whose goal will be to
help her and her family regain optimism and
independence. Sometimes, just knowing that
you don’t have to suffer through a disabling
period alone is all you need to begin your,
return to feeling alive again.
After divorce, a mother has to understand
and accept the fact that her life has been
thoroughly altered and there is no going
back. The pain and mourning she feels is real
because she has experienced the death of
beautiful expectations. There is no
emptiness like the one that emerges at the
grave of a relationship, especially the
relationship which pledged to make you
become one with another, living
permanently as “two in one flesh.” But to
stay in that state of emptiness is the
continuation of violation to self and family.
There is an individual and a communal
responsibility for a family disabled by
divorce to find help and healing, and join the
living again.
ANTOINETTE BOSCO WRITES
of a woman with three children whose
husband had left her three years
earlier. ‘“Everything in my life is
chaos,’ Mary said. ‘If anyone was
trying to locate me, they couldn’t
miss my house. It’s the one that needs
paint. Inside, it’s the one with the
broken chairs, the leaky washing
machine and the holes in the rug. We
had beans and rice again for dinner.’”
(NC Photo by Paul Conklin)
Letter To The Hebrews
“CATHERINE SAT ALONE IN the kitchen,” Angela M.
Schreiber writes. “She looked through the mail and found
nothing but bills. Loneliness and the feeling of being
abandoned by everyone engulfed her.’
McKinney)
(NC Photo by Susan
How Would Jesus Respond?
BY ANGELA M. SCHREIBER
Catherine sat alone in the kitchen.
Five-year-old Susan and three-year-old
Tommy were finally in bed. She looked
through the mail and found nothing but
bills, bills she could not meet on her $8,000
a year salary. Suddenly the disarray of dirty
dishes on the table and the silent house were
too much for her. Loneliness and the feeling
of being abandoned by everyone engulfed
her. She put her head on the table and wept.
There are many Catherines in today’s
world. They are the divorced women in our
society faced with raising a family alone.
Some of them seek help through community
and parish. Sometimes the community
comes through. Sometimes the parish comes
through. But not always.
Then there are the Catherines who never
ask for help. They struggle alone. Sometimes
they win. Sometimes they lose. The ones
who don’t seek assistance bring to mind the
Gospel story of the Good Shepherd. The
Good Shepherd lost one of his sheep. He did
not rest until he found it. When he found it,
he brought it back into the fold. Joining the
flock, the little sheep was no longer lonely,
abandoned, hungry. It was back where it
belonged.
Every parish has people who are lost,
crying in a wilderness. It’s true that the
church steeple can always be seen. These lost
people pass it by day after day. Why don’t
they stop in? Perhaps they feel that because
their dreams of a happy marriage went
unfulfilled, God has abandoned them. Or
perhaps they feel that the parish is family-
oriented and they don’t belong any more.
Whatever their reason, it really isn’t
important. What is important is that they are
suffering loneliness and many carry the
second burden of poverty.
What is a real Christian supposed to do
about these people?
First of all, we need to find out who they
are. That’s not an easy task in large parishes.
But it wasn’t easy for the Good Shepherd to
find his lost sheep either. He used all of his
wits to find it.
The parish census is one means. Breaking
the parish into districts for the purpose of
identifying the people in it might be
another. Visits to a divorced person’s home
will ultimately reveal'whether or not that
person needs parish support and
involvement.
The church certainly recognizes a need
for ministry to the divorced and parish
groups for this segment of Catholics are
common. For those who are a part of those
groups, a great deal of attention is given on
the spiritual level. But we are lacking all too
often with our assistance in a material way.
And we could use a lot of improvement on
the social acceptance level.
We Catholics have always been aware of
people who need our love and our charity.
We’ve done a wonderful job of sponsoring
foreign families who land on our soil.
Parishes adopt these families and start them
on the road to independence and financial
success. Perhaps we should also think about
adopting one-parent families that aren’t
making it financially. Many women who find
themselves the sole breadwinner are not
equipped educationally to earn a decent
living for themselves and their children.
Moral support helps but it doesn’t feed,
clothe or house a family.
We think of the parish as a Christian
family. Family members care about one
another. They keep each other company.
When one member is having a rough time,
another family member gives consolation.
When celebrations occur, everyone is
present. No one is a stranger, an outsider.
Clearly, as Christians, we are called upon not
to exclude anyone. This means that we
should go out of our way to make the
divorced and their families welcome to our
homes and parish activities.
There are those of us who are not out in
the work force. We are home when the
children are dismissed from school. Why not
invite a mother or two to send her children
home with ours after school? One of the
problems in our society is too little adult
supervision. And how about the father of a
family making a special effort to know little
Johnny or Susie who has no father at home?
Or the mother of a family to take a special
interest in a child or two who has no mother
at home?
BY FATHER JOHN J. CASTELOT
■n m-- •• -.Vi
Unfortunately, one of the least familiar
books of the New Testament is the so-called
Letter to the Hebrews. I say “so-called”
because, except for the conclusion, it is
quite unlike a letter. It is more like a
majestic address, a stirring proclamation of
the risen Lord and his eternal priesthood,
source of Christian hope and confidence. Of
unknown authorship, it begins very abruptly
with a solemn, almost poetic introduction
which climaxes as follows: “This Son is the
reflection of the Father’s glory, the exact
representation of the Father’s being, and he
sustains all things by his powerful word.
When he had cleansed us from our sins, he
took his seat at the right hand of the Majesty
in heaven, as far superior to the angels as the
name he has inherited is superior to theirs”
(Hebrews 1,3-4).
This rather sets the tone for a great part
of the composition and, as a result, against
this background of Christ’s risen glory,
statements about his humanity with its
attendant weakness stand out in especially
striking relief. This arresting combination
comes through clearly in passages such as
this: “In subjecting all things to him, God
left nothing unsubjected. At present we do
not see all things thus subject, but we do see
Jesus crowned with glory and honor because
he suffered death: Jesus, who was made for
a little while lower than the angels, that
through God’s gracious will he might taste
death for the sake of all . . . Therefore he is
not ashamed to call them brothers,
saying . . . ‘Here am I and the children God
has given me!’ Now since the children are
men of blood and flesh, Jesus likewise had a
full share in ours . . . Surely he did not come
to help angels, but rather the children of
Abraham; therefore he had to become like
his brothers in every way, that he might be a
merciful and faithful high priest before God
on their behalf, to expiate the sins of the
people. Since he was himself tested through
what he suffered, he is able to help those
who are tempted” (Hebrews 1,8-9, lib,
13b-14a, 16-18; see also 4, 14-16; 5, 7-10).
This picture of Jesus, one with his
brothers and sisters in nature and
experience, excluding only the actual
experience of sin, corresponds exactly to the
impression one gets from reading the
Gospels. Even though they too are in their
own way colored by their authors’ faith in
Jesus as Christ and Lord, they show him as a
man among men, completely involved in and
sympathetic to the human condition. He was
not a strange visitor from another planet,
observing the lives of earthlings without
comprehension or empathy. He too was an
earthling, “tempted in every way that we
are” (Hebrews 4,16), and his heart went out
to his suffering brothers and sisters, no
matter what the nature or the cause of their
hurt. He was no holier-than-thou do-gooder,
looking down his nose at those who failed to
measure up to the standards set by the
“better” people.
On the contrary, he reached out in a very
special way — and by no means a
condescending or patronizing way — to the
unfortunates of society: grieving widows,
little children, tax collectors, an adulteress,
thieves, prostitutes, that whole
undistinguished class labeled “sinners” and
impatiently written off by the self-appointed
arbiters of propriety. And so sincere was he
that he did not shrink from sharing their
rejection — completely, violently.
The Gospel message is meant to jolt us
into an awareness of our responsibility to be
truly Christian, realistically Christ-like.
Every parish has its share of people who are
really hurting. The fact that they are
suffering should be enough for us, as it was
for him. Ours is not the distasteful task of
standing in judgment of them, deciding that
they deserve to be hurt and then turning our
backs. A divorcee, for example, is a woman
who has been terribly wounded by life and is
struggling to salvage dignity and a decent life
for herself and her children. The reason for
her status is none of our business; the fact of
her sorry plight is. She is our sister, her
children are ours, members of our parish
family, of the body of Christ. Nor is it
enough to be ready and willing to help if the
occasion should arise. Jesus did not wait
around for people to seek him out, though
they often did. He reached out to them on
his own initiative and, again, not
condescendingly or patronizingly, but with
genuine concern and deeply caring love,
“not ashamed to call them brothers” and
sisters, and saying, too, “Here am I, and the
children God has given me” (Hebrews 2,
lib, 13b).
Discussion Points And Questions
1. What is the frame of mind that often accompanies divorce?
2. What is the usual economic status of a household headed by a
divorced woman?
3. What is depression? What causes that underlying emotion in
divorced and separated Catholics?
4. What are some of the steps a divorced mother can take to begin
the process of healing the wounds cajused by divojrcg,? , 136S q
5. What are some of the steps parishes can Take to assist divorced
women faced with raising a family alone? What j;an individual
parishioners do?
6. What picture of Jesus does the Letter to the Hebrews present?
7. To what segment of society in particular did Jesus reach out?
8. What motive does Father Castelot suggest for reaching out to help
a woman wounded by divorce?