From Your Minister
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As I follow the news of upheaval that appears to be escalating daily—collapsing political and economic systems, hurricanes, earthquakes, tornados and floods—and as I interact with many people whose lives are affected by those bigger systems, here’s what I’ve been wondering.
How do I stay present when things are breaking or broken? How do I allow things to break when they need to break, and still stay on the side of Life? How do I manage to not numb out or move into denial, without going mad and breaking apart myself, when systems far beyond my control or even my comprehension, are wreaking havoc? And for what do I go down fighting?
I’ll tell you three things I’ve figured out, but your wisdom is greatly appreciated here, as I am still struggling to sort it out. Well, actually, that’s the first thing I’ve figured out: I’m not going to be able make meaning of this alone. Rather, I think this is a time when we need each other in order to create a multi-dimensional, holistic picture of what is going on and how we might live together in this portion of history.
One of my favorite aspects of the Occupy movement is that unlikely people are finding their way to each other to hash things out. In the cold winter of Minnesota, where I live, Occupiers have moved from a downtown plaza into empty, foreclosed houses. In those houses there is conversation, questioning, wondering, and sharing stories going on. Students, veterans, homeless people, peace activists, and union members are talking honestly for extended periods of time. This can only be good.
But you don’t have to move into an abandoned house to connect with a startling variety of people. The Internet is probably my favorite gathering place. There it is, right in my own home. How amazing that I am in daily contact with hundreds of smart, faithful people who can share wisdom with me from their part of the world, telling me things I wouldn’t otherwise know about life from their point of view.
The second thing I’ve figured out is that I need to learn to be more comfortable with not knowing exactly what is going on or what to do. I need to find some peace with “I don’t know.”
That’s not an easy one for me. I am more comfortable in the role of crusader on the side of what is right. I cherish our Unitarian Universalist history of activism, of standing on the side of love. I like to think I know which end is up! As I read the signs of the times, a great many things are breaking apart that might be good to have break apart. But right now, there is a great deal I simply can’t know.
Oh sure, I know that money and politics are never a good mix, and I applaud every effort to separate the two. I know that providing basic needs for everyone is a good thing for all. It’s not that I don’t know anything. I’m just clearer every day that I don’t know even close to everything.
It’s hard for me to grieve when big box stores go bankrupt, though the loss of jobs that follows is upsetting. Those stores never seemed sustainable to me anyway. I’m not upset when consumers quit buying things, even if that cessation is fueled by fear and impacts people’s livelihoods and well-being. These are complicated systems! So, I am working on how to be more comfortable saying “I don’t know.”
The third thing I know is that I need to stay very clear about how I deploy my time, money and commitment to make sure that I am aligned with my own deepest values. Feminist theologian Mary Daly used to say “Take your life and throw it as far as it will go.” These days, that message seems important.
I need to find places where my life energy gathers strength, and then build from those places, working with others who are living with that same passionate commitment. For me, life energy always gathers around plants. I think that the burgeoning movement towards organic gardening and eating local foods is one way that what is broken might yield something better. So I spend some time exchanging seeds and knowledge and excitement. I am working to create a new community garden in my neighborhood.
Raising a teenager, as I do, means involvement with school systems and other parents and thinking about what “a good education” means today.
I don’t have to go searching for where my life energy is in matters so close to my heart. I simply need to steward it well, and believe that the small actions I take can have some beneficial impact.
Of course, a great deal of my energy is invested in building CLF as a community of resistance and hope, so that in these troubled times we can find and support each other. My ministry with CLF provides fresh evidence for me, every single day, that there is creative, new, bold energy alive and humming.
The allies who have shown up to help out with this are truly amazing, and make me believe that anything is possible if we do it together. The depth of sharing that people are ready for in small groups and in worship, with people they have never met in person, boggles my mind. I continue to feel like the luckiest person on the planet to have this place to find myself, and I hope you can find yourself here as well, as we join together in all of our blessed and broken splendor.
- From Your Minister - July 1, 2020
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