Happy Saturday, friends! It’s been a quiet day here in Brooklyn; after an unusually busy and social week, this introvert was ready for some serious down time, and I’m happy to say I got it. A fresh batch of chili is simmering in the crock pot, and while I wait for it to be ready, I’m listening to a nice jazz/swing mix on Spotify, enjoying a nice crisp glass of L’Agnostique Chardonnay (and the lights on my tree), and reflecting on how very full this year has been so far.
I’ve been reading a lot over the past few weeks. I’m currently about 1/2 way through The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress (I started reading it years ago, and never made it all the way through; it’s been great entertainment on the subway, tho, so I have higher hopes for finishing this time). I also really enjoyed a book my mom loaned me, The Women In The Castle, set in Germany (pre-, during, and post-World War II). It’s a fictional story, but really well researched and insightful; I highly recommend it.
I’ve finished a few other books in the past couple of weeks as well, including an old favorite, A Ring of Endless Light. I think one of my favorite things about re-reading Madeleine L’Engle’s books is that I always either catch something I didn’t before, or it speaks to me in a new way. This book has been a constant teacher since the first time I read it as a teenager.
I’ve also been watching a fair number of movies. I won’t bore you with the whole list, but I will highlight one: Quartet. It is utterly delightful – and I sincerely hope that retirement homes for musicians/artists are an actual thing, because I think it would make for a lovely community.
I mentioned I was listening to jazz/swing tonight; I’ve always loved it, but I’ve been particularly hooked on it for a couple of weeks now. And y’all – Ella Fitzgerald can scat. (I’m a little bit in awe.)
I wrote a bit last weekend about Rob Bell’s interview with Alexander Shaia on darkness and hope (which is so worth a listen).
My word for this year is hope, and so wouldn’t you know it, they messed with it. “I’m concerned about hope,” Shaia said. “I’m concerned… that the idea is not helping us.” And then he went on to talk about how hope is about the future; that it’s passive and emotional, and can be wrapped up in doubt, uncertainty, and anxiety. Hope itself can’t actually make anything happen, and if we spend too much time waiting for something we hope for, we can miss what’s happening in the here and now.
I do see Shaia’s point – but hope and longing go hand in hand, and I’m not sure hope is something not to cultivate; I just think we need to be thoughtful about what we hope for, and learn to recognize when hope is and isn’t serving it’s purpose.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. – Proverbs 12:12
Another podcast episode I’ve really enjoyed this month is the two part recording of Rob Bell and Elizabeth Gilbert Live at Largo on New Year’s Day (part 1, part 2). Their friendship is so rich and genuine, and the show was fantastic, eclectic, hilarious, and thought-provoking. Elizabeth Gilbert talked at one point about the creative process as stewarding whatever it is that wants to happen next.
I like that, but find myself curious as to how you know what that is. If I don’t think about it too much, I think I sort of intuitively understand it. I’m actually sure I’ve experienced it; I’m just not sure how to replicate it, lol.
I’ve found myself increasingly grateful to be part of a church that values the diversity of voices represented in our community. Last week’s sermon (in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) was fantastic. Follow the link to hear the whole thing, but here’s my favorite part (it’s approximately the last 4 minutes):
“We welcome everyone here. If you’re here, even though our church, for instance, is generously orthodox and we’re committed to orthodoxy – if you’re not orthodox or you have problems with being orthodox, we’re glad that you’re here. We actually need you here. We need that corrective; we need your voice. It sharpens us, it helps us, it clarifies and helps us to see our blind spots. And we want you to walk with us – walk with us, and be with us, and maybe someday you’ll see – something will click, and the practice of baptism will seem like something you want to do. But maybe not.
And that is what love looks like in community. It’s not coercive. It doesn’t force its hand, or force its way on people. It’s open to them. It stays present to them. And it hopes despite hope for them.
There are lots of people that make this community this community who take risks and make concessions, and to you, I say thank you.I think we all do it to some regard. Some of you come into this space, as someone who, let’s say perhaps – this church is rooted in Tribeca, and let’s say you don’t live in Tribeca, let’s say you can’t afford to live in Tribeca. and you wonder how could I be a part of a community that is rooted in Tribeca? We thank you for being here. We thank you for sticking with us, despite the difference. We thank you for adding your voice and your life and your story to this community. We need you.
To those who are LGBTQ+, who come into a space that may feel threatening, where you’ll bump up against people whose ideologies feel like they threaten your very existence and humanity, and you bump into a tradition that maybe represents to you something that threatens your identity and your humanity. I say thank you. We need you here. We need your voice and your presence and your story and your experience for us to be a beloved community.
For people of color who come into this space that’s largely white, who risk being misunderstood, or unseen, or tokenized. We thank you for being here, for sticking with us, for committing to us, for adding your voice and offering your leadership in our community.
To those of any background – for those of you who are conservative and those of you who are liberal – who come into a community where you don’t find people who agree with you – we thank you. That’s what this is about. That’s what this church is about, that’s what the beloved community is about, that’s what the kingdom of Christ is about. We come together to one table, where all are welcome, and all are seen with the dignity that they have in the image of God. And like Dr. King, we’re rooted in a practice that transcends our differences. We thank you.
Let’s come to this table; let’s lean into the love that we see in Christ. Let’s draw on it for resources to see each other, respect each other, love each other, have patience with each other, bear with one another, so that we can have some hope in this world. I know I need it. I know that I, when I lean into my relationships, I’m infused with hope. Because our small conflicts, though they may be painful and hurt, need to be pressed through, in order to see healing in our world. “
– Michael Rudzena – A Baptism of Love – Trinity Grace Church Tribeca – 1/20/19
So, so true. Grace and peace, friends.
More to come,
Happy
photo credit:Thought Catalog on Unsplash
The statements made and opinions expressed here are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of any current or former employers.