Spoiler Alert: If you haven’t watched the series finale of the sitcom Mom, you may want to read this post later…
Last night, I scanned the On Demand menu on my television in search of the sitcom, Mom. I’ve watched this show faithfully since it began. For me, it seems to portray 12-step recovery meetings the closest to my actual experience than anything else that I’ve seen on television. The finale was no exception.
The show opens with the characters sitting in a circle, sharing round-robin at an AA meeting. A newcomer is there. She is scowling. She is not buying what they are sharing. From her vantage point, there is no way to become as successful as these folks are. The main character, Bonnie notices. She tries to encourage the newcomer to share her story. But, she refuses to speak. In fact, she is so exasperated that she gets up and walks out before the meeting ends.
Bonnie follows her. She feels called to reach out to her. Offering a helping hand is how Bonnie will stay sober. She invites her to coffee. The newcomer reluctantly agrees. Really she just wants to get Bonnie off her back. When Bonnie goes back inside to get her keys, the newcomer takes off running. Bonnie sees this and hesitates, looking down at her new suede shoes before she runs after her in the pouring rain.
To an average viewer, this may all seem insignificant, but in recovery this can be a life-saving measure. You see a person with wounds is able to see the wounds in others. They recognize the hurt and the feelings that tell them that they are not worthy of saving–or that they are the only one. No one does a better job of going back for the one lost sheep than a 12-stepper.
Bonnie finally catches the newcomer and she talks her into coming to the restaurant where the usual group of friends awaits. When they ask her why she left, she tells them that they don’t have real problems like she does. They ask her to give them an example. “You haven’t lost custody of your kids” she says.
Bonnie shares how she lost her kid for 2 years–not custody she actually lost her. The newcomer says she may be facing jail time. The character Tammy jumps in, “Seven years hard time” she says pointing to herself. Majorie jumps in and says I did some time as well. Majorie and Tammy fight about the quality of Marjorie’s time in jail. As she continued her list, someone at the table was always able to point to themselves and admit to sharing her experience. She was never alone.
As the newcomer observes these women share their brokenness, you can see something wake-up from deep inside of her. She’s not the only person who has messed up. Looking at these women who now have jobs and repaired relationships with family and friends, hope creeps in without her noticing it. And that is where the magic lies.
At meetings everywhere, whether it be AA, Al-Anon, NA, CA, OA or any other ‘A’, hope is offered through our experience and strength. And isn’t that what Jesus offered Thomas when he was afraid to hope that who he was seeing was indeed Jesus?
“Put your hand in my side…” In other words, see my wounds. I have them too. You are not alone. Jesus tells us that “So the Father has sent me, I send you” in John’s gospel. That is exactly what we do in basement rooms every single day of the week. Hope is there. I pray that you will join us there.