Image Description: A loaf of bread, with a large piece torn off.
I was walking toward a building near campus yesterday when a person waiting outside held the door open for me. The person was about to take in a big cart, but before moving it, it seemed easier to let me go through first. So the person held the door open for me as I approached it.
When I saw that this was about to happen, I immediately sped up my walking toward the door. I probably doubled my speed. Then the person said,
“Oh, no need to hurry!” This was spoken as a kind reminder that I wasn’t inconveniencing.
I thought about how frequently we worry about taking up space, or inconveniencing, even when we are given an authentic occasion to receive. Some of us have been socialized in this direction especially.
That’s when I thought of something that the poet Mary Oliver says: “Joy is not made to be a crumb.”
Likewise, I suppose,
The taking up of space — being noticed, being cared for — is not made to be hurried.
Dr. Ellen Langer, scholar and researcher on mindfulness, uses a particular phrase to describe the ways we become disconnected from the present moment. She says that so frequently, we live in a perpetual state of constant partial attention.
Constant partial attention. . . Isn’t that a perfect way to describe that kind of experience? So often, we move through our days simply going through the motions, rarely paying attention to what is right in front of us. Instead, our minds gravitate toward our to-do lists and the situations that make us most anxious. We get stuck mulling over the past or worrying about our imagined future. In the process, we miss the present moment.
And sadly, this means we lose some awareness of our surroundings, our inner life, our neighbors, and the deep stirrings within us.
Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round and pluck blackberries. [1]
Sometimes we experience the daily delights of what’s in front of us; other times, we’re more disconnected than we’d like to be.
The good news is that we can keep reorienting ourselves again and again.
Image Description: A black and white name tag sticker says, “Hello, my name is” with a blank space to write a name.
Recently, I had the opportunity to hear some folks encourage a particular person, and I noticed that something kept happening quite naturally. Instead of simply saying,
“We’re with you. . . We believe in you. . . We know you can do this. . .”
they also kept adding the person’s name:
“We’re with you, [Name]. . . We believe in you, [Name]. . . We know you can do this, [Name].”
Throughout all of this, I was reminded of how powerful names can be. In the context of expressing love, gratitude, or encouragement, names themselves can be words of deep affection.
After I had already been pondering this, in a different context, a friend said that she wanted to hear her name more. She felt like people hadn’t said her name as often lately, a name she shares with a relative she lost years ago.
Perhaps somewhere within us, we’re all longing to be addressed by name. This sacred process of speaking and hearing names comes from a place of being known and honored as the ones we are. We are seen and cared for in all our particularities.
When addressing others with love, gratitude, and encouragement, I’m going to start speaking names much more often and much more intentionally.
Do you ever find yourself wondering, “These things I’m doing. . . Do they really matter? Do they make any difference?”
The answer is a resounding yes.
On average, each person on the planet consistently affects 8,000 people every day.
I learned this from a tremendous book. It’s called, Connected: The Surprising Power of Social Networks and How they Shape Our Livesby Nicholas Christakis and James Fowler. In the book, Christakis and Fowler conduct intriguing scientific research on social networks to discover how they connect us and affect us. I find their conclusion to be stunning: Daily, our actions, thoughts, and emotions impact others. That’s where this number comes from: On average, we affect approximately 8,000 people every day.
How did they calculate this number?
Christakis and Fowler have discovered that on average, each person knows twenty people well enough to invite them to a dinner party. If those friends then know twenty people to the same degree, and then those friends know twenty people to the same degree, we are talking about 20 x 20 x 20 = 8,000 people.
We are relationally connected and deeply embedded in these relationships. Their research revealed that we affect and are affected by our friends’ friends’ friends in social and emotional contagions. Even if we don’t directly know these people three degrees away, we are consistently impacting each other every single day of our lives. That’s astonishing.
Christakis and Fowler discuss the ways that our actions, thoughts, and emotions impact others. When we feel joy, calm, stress, or anxiety, we often pass our emotions to one another in contagion. Sometimes, this happens as quickly and simply as seeing someone’s facial expression. The mirror neurons in our brains fire to make a similar facial expression, and then we feel a similar emotion too. This can happen with fear. It can also happen with a smile. These are truly contagious.
So, if we have the ability to impact a social network as large as 8,000 people pretty unconsciously, what is possible if we consider this consciously? How can we positively affect our social network with acts of compassion, advocacy, and solidarity?
How can we positively affect our social network through our own self-care and personal, spiritual practices? These enrich us, but they can also add wellbeing to the whole. We are deeply connected to others. We can truly have an impact upon 8,000 people.
What happens when we show up in person to solidarity events and see the humanity of one another? What emotional contagion of hope is unleashed when we see large-scale solidarity events on Facebook live?
All of these things launch social contagions of connectedness and continued action.
If you doubt your ability to affect things, please know that these matter. Everything you’re doing definitely matters.
A friend and colleague introduced me to a poem that I love.
I’m also curious how you would answer the last line. I really want to know. I invite you to post a comment or send me a message. What do you dream and imagine?
This poem is by Marlene Marburg of Victoria, Australia:
“Dreaming a Grace”
I imagine a place a-fire people gathering, sharing food and conversation and their deep desires for the way things can be in this world at this time in places where Church is crumbling and a new consciousness of God in all things (in joy and pain) is emerging without competition, without striving to be or do anything.
I imagine listening and awakening, and holding as precious each other and each other’s gifts and each other’s dreams, inviting each other to speak, to show and tell stories, to challenge and be challenged by the arts, to say what can only be spoken in airy spaces, to separate stifling rules and blinkered vision from expansive love and kindness.
I imagine insight and discernment and holy decisions and implementation. I imagine shared prayer and the uplifting grace of love that won’t tolerate stinginess, maintaining the way things have been.
I imagine leadership that enables recedes from its own ego, from the disabling power of self-doubt.
I imagine a ritual of reclaiming, reshaping a communion of souls, lifted and raised to the Mystery of God
the mystery of each other.
I imagine a quiet interior ‘yes,’ a buoyant ‘yes,’ risking the storms which try to drown God’s feet in us.
I imagine daring and courage until they are no longer such.
I imagine the ‘yes’ of Jesus tipping tables and healing hearts, the ‘yes’ disposition to all-things-God that took him to Gethsemane.
I imagine post-resurrection people, Pentecost people living the unquenchable flame.
Please visit Marlene Marburg’s website to learn more about her poetry and work as a spiritual director. She recently wrote a book called Dreams and Desires, in which she asked the question, ‘What do you imagine?’ of 120 people and edited their replies in prose and poetry. Please check that out here.
When couples are newly married, I sometimes ask, “What’s the most frequent, repeat gift you received from your registry?” You can only have so many can openers after all. Answers are often amusing.
Yesterday, I wrote a post entitled, Church: Weird, Magic Fixes and discussed the human tendency to suggest odd, unhelpful “fixes” to perceived problems. When I asked church friends and colleagues, “What kinds of weird, magic fixes have you experienced in churches?” answers were also amusing. Very amusing. And while I imagined I might receive repeat answers, I did not anticipate that multiple people would respond with, “Sock hops for the young people.”
Sock hops for the young people!
Two colleagues in two different places have had people suggest that their church hold sock hops, in the hopes that young people will flock to the church building and ultimately participate fully in worship and membership. These sock hop suggestions were well meaning. After all, those who made these suggestions loved sock hops during their own teenage years. But that’s hardly a magic fix for today! Hilarious.
So here’s where all of this is going:
In this follow-up post, I would like to share some of the weird, magic fixes that people have suggested in churches. They can take many forms, but many fit this formula: “If we do ______, the young people will return.”
Then I want to close with a different list. People also told me stories of congregations serving their neighbors for the sake of their neighbors, asking nothing in return. It turns out that churches don’t need weird, magic fixes. We can just live that calling.
So here are two lists, both amazing in different ways.
True examples of weird, magic fixes in churches (shared anonymously with permission). . .
“If we take field trips to the roller rink, we will grow a youth group.”
“If we have a social media policy, people will stop using social media during meetings.”
“If ushers wear suits and ties, more visitors will return.”
“If we give youth things to do instead of coming to church, we’ll have more youth involved in our church.”
“If we have the same annual car wash and hot dog sale (which loses us money every year) we’ll show the community that we have a strong youth program.”
“If we had raffles and bingos, our mortgage would be paid.”
“If we got rid of dishwashers, more people would be involved in church.” (This is real! Someone suggested that people have less community connections these days because they don’t have to wash and dry dishes together.)
And my personal favorites. . . that is, in addition to the TWO sock hop suggestions. . .
“If we had an auto repair school, youth would get connected here.”
Are you ready for this, because this is real!
“If we had a Titanic Dinner on the 100th anniversary of its sinking with period costumes, the youth would serve the meal for us and love this church.”
Church folks can certainly come up with some interesting ideas! But you know what else? They can also love their neighbors for the sake of their neighbors.
2. Here are some real things churches are doing these days to love, serve, and connect with others.
“We serve dinners at local shelters and provide meals to college students.”
“We have literally kept families from going homeless.”
“We host an after-school program for students that tend to fall through the cracks.”
“We invited refugees to a day of celebration and welcomed them to our city.”
“We hold support classes for children whose parents are going through divorce.”
“We support NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness).”
“We provide a warming day-shelter for people who are experiencing homelessness.”
“We offer free space in our building for many groups and local organizations from the wider community.”
“We provide transportation for children so they can visit their parents who are incarcerated.”
These examples aren’t magic fixes. Rooted in faith, these are beautiful examples of human beings honoring the worth of human beings. And it turns out, commitments like these are enough. Ministry for its own sake is abundantly more than enough.
Over the weekend, I heard a story that fascinated me. Silly as it sounds, it is a true story:
A small school district has four elementary schools, one middle school, and one high school. For decades, the high school mascot has been the Dolphins.* The school board decided to promote unity among students at the high school level, hoping to quell any factions, sub-groups, or cliques (for the record, I have never known of a high school without these). So how did they go about this? They declared that every school in their district will have same mascot as the high school. From now on, every school and every student will be a Dolphin.
K-12, all Dolphins, all the time.
While I suppose it might be nice to be on one big team. . . I’m a bit curious how this works with elementary school sports. Can anyone accurately commentate an event? Do players sometimes accidentally throw…
Have you all ever heard of Quantum Entanglement? It’s one of the weirdest discoveries of science — namely, that two particles can become inexplicably connected, to the point that even across great distances, what happens with one always impacts the other.
So why wouldn’t it also be true that we human beings are more connected than we assume?
Image Description: The cover of Seinfeld: Seasons 1 & 2. All four cast members are posing next to each other (left to right) Kramer, George, Elaine, and Jerry.
Years ago, I took a viewing plunge that would last nearly a year. I added the first disc of Seinfeld season 1 to the Netflix queue, and then, I began to re-watch the entire series. I enjoyed revisiting the hilarious scenarios that made Seinfeld one of the most unique and popular sitcoms to date.
As I watched, I realized that a number of common phrases were launched on this “show about nothing.” Terms like double dipping, close talking, and re-gifting all had their fifteen minutes of fame on the show, and they stuck with us because they named social quirks that had not yet been so wonderfully defined.
And I marveled at the burst of technological changes that have emerged in the span of one generation. This is because so many of those changes are simply not in the show. . . The fact that Seinfeld could craft entire episodes around the use of answering machines and pay phones — and for that matter, feature the frequent use of Jerry’s enormous, cordless landline phone — spoke to how different life was a few decades ago.
Every bit of this was enjoyable, but most of all, I found myself reflecting upon the moments behind the scenes, particularly upon the creation of the sitcom itself and the relationships that made it possible. The Netflix discs all have interviews with the cast, directors, and writers throughout the series. As I watched these episodes, I also watched the creators find their stride in defining the identity and tone of the show, and I watched the friendships grow deeper.
At the beginning, it was intriguing to watch Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David practically fall into this opportunity, not knowing where it would take them. In a humorous way during one of the first interviews, Larry David talks about the very non-humorous emotional meltdown he had when he realized that the show they pitched would actually be aired. He would actually have to write thirteen episodes for the first season. He didn’t think he could do it. Little did he know that he was sitting on a creative project which would become much larger than himself. Within that larger framework, he would find his own writing voice.
As I watched these early interviews, I pondered how we human beings frequently desire to be a part of creating something larger. I could feel that pull upon myself too. We all want to belong to something bigger than anything we can create alone.
I especially enjoyed watching the finale of the series. I had not seen that final episode since the evening it actually aired, and it was was wonderful to revisit it. Along with the last episodes themselves, the final interviews were just as intriguing and meaningful as the ones at the beginning. One story in particular will stick with me for a long time.
The four primary cast members all had a ritual of gathering together backstage before the taping every episode. When they gathered together for that moment on the date of the last live taping, Jerry Seinfeld said something quite lovely. Jason Alexander said that Jerry was rarely sentimental, but on that date, with tears in his eyes, he created a wonderful moment as they stood backstage and held hands. Jerry said,
“I want to say something. For the rest of our lives, when anyone thinks of one of us, they will think of all four of us.”
I love those words. He added, “And I can’t think of three people I’d rather have that be true of.” He was right. When we think of any of them, we do think of all of them.
This ending brought me back to my initial reflections at the beginning of the series. We all want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. Sometimes we stumble upon such an opportunity, only to add ourselves with our identities, dreams, and voices. Other times, we create such opportunities intentionally through the friendships that surround us.
Seinfeld certainly made cultural changes to our world. If we follow the example of its makers and allow ourselves to create alongside others, our personal worlds just might get bigger, too.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?”
and
“Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”
and
“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
All of these statements come from the same passage in the Sermon on the Mount — Matthew 6:25-34.
Jesus talks about placing trust in the the spiritual value that there is ultimately enough, naming that we are seen, cared for, and loved.
Of course, we know that sometimes, people genuinely do not have what they need, and there are times when anxiety emerges from inside the body in ways that can be debilitating. These deserve our attention, compassion, and gentleness, alongside commitments to address the situations that cause them.
Yet also, in the midst of that, and in the midst of many tendencies to ruminate over that which we fear, whether large or small, I think this is genuinely the most practical of advice.
I don’t mean to say that it’s always easy to simply turn worry off, and there are crises that make that remarkably challenging. Maybe even impossible. But in some situations, it is genuinely so very practical to say, “I’m only going to focus on this day.” At least emotionally.
Looking at the larger picture, pondering the bigger pieces, and moving in the longer direction… yes.
But emotionally, focusing on the one day in front of us. Just this one.
“One day at a time,” folks wisely say.
This can be especially practical when large things feel as though they are looming —
deadlines, medical care, grief, crisis, conflict, addiction, moving, or navigating new contexts.
This is a spiritual practice and orientation, definitely. But it’s also so darn practical.
Smuggling Grace 