Author: gracesmuggler

Image description: A sliced loaf of banana bread. Public domain image.

I have the pleasure of filling in frequently as a guest preacher for churches. I’ve been doing this locally for years; now, during a virtual time of pandemic, I am able to do this nationally as well. And when you travel around (okay, right now, from home) you can repeat yourself. This is something I often say at the end of the sermon or the end of the service:

“We are people who gather around sacred texts. The sermon is not ultimately what I said today. It’s certainly not something I typed out in a word document and then spoke aloud. The sermon is a moment we shared together as people who gather around sacred texts. And so… the people who popped in your mind today, the ideas that came to you, and the inkling toward prayer for specific individuals and situations… that’s the sermon too. And when we act on those things, we’re all preaching the sermon.”

It’s encouraging to pay attention to those nudges, so to speak, and act on them.

Outside of a church context, on Saturday, I had just posted a couple of sentences on Facebook, sharing that I was missing the normalcy of being with people and being out and about. A friend of mine did not see that post, but immediately got an idea to come to my house and drop off some banana bread. It was delicious. This also allowed me to visit with her at a distance for a bit. She said the idea just came to her and felt like she should come right over. I am grateful.

Last night, I received a text out of the blue from an acquaintance I haven’t spoken to for a long time. In fact, we had only spoken a couple of times ever. We used to sing in a choir together. She left the choir a while back, but she ended up being present for one of my virtual sermons last week. I didn’t know she was a part of a Presbyterian Church. But it was the sermon this week from their pastor that encouraged her to send me a text. My colleague had shared, “Write a letter of encouragement to someone.” I’m not sure why my former choir acquaintance thought of me, except perhaps for my virtual sermon one week before. But she did write me a quick text to see if this was my contact information. It was, and when I texted back, she called me, and we had such a wonderful conversation. We connected meaningfully about things happening in our lives and in the world. And now she’s going to keep calling. I have a new friend.

These days, I keep a list of the kinds of nudges that come to me too. Contact this person… send this podcast you heard… say a kind word… ask a question to this person… ponder this idea…

Connection and change move through relationships. So who knows what’s possible — what care, what newness, what transformation? These can happen when we listen deeply to these nudging instincts. We can do much for our mental health and that of others when we live this way. It adds connection. It adds hope.

—Renee Roederer

Image Description: A series of black dominos with quite dots; the ones in the back have fallen, and the ones in the front are about to fall. Public domain image.

Everything catalyzes everything.

Everything affects everything.

This, of course, is so obvious that it’s hardly worth being the topic of a blog post. But perhaps it’s obvious to the point that we could think about it more often. Maybe with some intention, we might feel greater hope too. Because….

What we do matters.

Now surely, some actions have bigger impacts than others. And when we move in directions we regret, we can always change course. After all, everything catalyzes everything, and our course correction shifts the whole. Even the recognition that we need a course correction had a catalyst. Something woke us up to that. And now the shift will have impacts too, creating space for new possibilities.

So back to this:

What we do matters.

What we do – how we spend our time, how we speak, how we relate, how we create, how we care – it all matters.

Because it always initiates a sequence of effects, often well beyond what we might have imagined. It’s not about us. But our actions matter. We impact things, just as they impact us.

–Renee Roederer

Here are a few articles and testimonies that have challenged me and been valuable conversation partners in my own reflections this week:

Statement from the Rev. Dr. Brian Blount on the Death of George Floyd

Yes, We Mean Literally Abolish the Police by Mariame Kaba

An Open Love Letter to My White Friends by Dwight L. Wilson

This Tweet by Dwayne Reed

Thought I’d pass these along.

 

Image Description: The logo of the Interfaith Round Table of Washtenaw County. There is a light blue background. The letters ‘i’, ‘r’, and ‘t; are in white, and inside the letters, there are a number of religious symbols in blue.

Together with Dwight Wilson, I serve as the Co-Director of the Interfaith Round Table of Washtenaw County. This week, we released a statement on behalf of IRT with a call to anti-racism. Today, I will share that here.

IRT’s Call to Anti-Racism

Image Description: Silhouettes of people are all walking in the same direction to the left. They are each holding a piece of red arrow that’s pointing to the left.

Every morning, I receive daily email meditations from Richard Rohr. I love them, and I recommend them to people all the time.

Richard Rohr sent a piece about collaborative leadership, juxtaposing it with the kind of leadership that dominates and determines decisions alone. He lifted up what is possible when leaders and entire communities begin to create cultures of collaboration. I like his list, so I’m going to share it today:

“Here are some insights into what every good, servant-hearted, nondual leader knows and practices, whether in community, in the workplace, or in the classroom. Creative leaders:

• are seers of alternatives.
• move forward by influencing events and inspiring people more than by ordering or demanding.
• know that every one-sided solution is doomed to failure. It is never a lasting solution but only a postponement of the problem.
• learn to study, discern, and search together with others for solutions.
• know that total dilemmas are very few. We create many dilemmas because we are internally stuck, attached, fearful, over-identified with our position, needy of winning the case, or unable to entertain even the partial truth that the other opinion might be offering.
• know that wisdom is ‘the art of the possible.’ The key question is no longer ‘How can I problem solve now and get this off my plate?” It is “How can this situation achieve good for the largest number and for future generations?’
• continue finding and sharing new data and possibilities until they can work toward consensus from all sides.
• want to increase both freedom and ownership among the group—not subservience, which will ultimately sabotage the work anyway.
• emphasize the why of a decision and show how it is consistent with the group’s values.”

We can cultivate this kind of leadership. The challenge, of course, is learning how to organize communities in these ways when there are so many cultural pulls to keep organizing ourselves in top-down models. But new ways are always possible. They lead to an empowered community.

And sometimes, a community has to become empowered enough to say, “We want that.” When this happens, the community itself is the leader.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: Three pink flowers on a vine, each in the shape of a heart. A blue sky is in the background.

What would feel like to take heart just a little bit more today?

To remind yourself that people are indeed working for good in the world, even in the midst of pain?

To remind yourself that you’ve been surprised at other times, so why not be surprised by goodness again?

To remind yourself that taking heart, while vulnerable, is really giving heart by allowing yourself to have hope and trust, and that this can actually lean into the creation of goodness in the world? Especially it takes to imagination? Especially when it takes to action?

We know that hope needs imagination and action.

Your neighbor is worth that risk.

You’re worth that risk.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: A brown bin says “Compost” in white letters. A large amount of pulled weeds are inside. One long plant is hanging out of the bin.

I pulled a whole heckuva lot of weeds over the weekend. If I may be honest, I found this to be fun. Perhaps there was something cathartic and soothing about it.

The most satisfying weed to pull was a particularly long and windy kind. It has a system of stems and leaves connected to a shared vine. It’s the kind pictured above, spilling out of the compost bin. This plant — I don’t know its name — wove its way effectively and adeptly around my day lily plants. And most of it was hidden and out of view.

I’d find one piece and begin to pull on it. Then I’d discover much more, a system all connected.

I reflected on the beliefs we carry…

… about ourselves,
… about our relationships,
… about our neighbors,
… about the ways we structure our society,

and this plant seemed to convey a lot.

Sometimes, within ourselves, there are whole, connected systems of beliefs, fears, and emotional triggers that need to be explored and healed. Sometimes, within our communities, there are large, connected systems of harm intended to bolster some and disadvantage others.

We have to start somewhere — pulling, uncovering connections, examining, and uprooting.

–Renee Roederer

Image description: A statue of the Buddha, sitting. One palm rests on his leg and the other is lifted, facing us. This statue is in a forrest, and green and red leaves are in the background.

I serve as the Co-Director of the Interfaith Round Table of Washtenaw County, and in that role, I have the privilege of visiting many communities during their worship and times of spiritual practice. Due to our pandemic, most of these communities are not meeting in person but are using technological platforms to connect virtually. This week, I joined the Zen Buddhist Temple in Ann Arbor for their Sunday service.

I sat outside on my deck, stilled myself, connected with my body, and listened. I heard the sound of so many birds with their various calls. I heard neighbors multiple streets away using a weed eater and a leaf blower. I wondered… what’s the farthest sound I can hear right now?

When I asked that question, I heard birds chirping on the recording from the temple. Yes, those are across town and certainly the farthest away.

In all the upheaval of these days, it’s a great gift to simply sit still, check in with our bodies, and notice. When we slow down and notice, we can have greater pleasure and connection with all that’s around us.

–Renee Roederer

Today, I’d like to share some slides from two Instagram accounts which engage the intersections of race and disability. The first comes from @diversability, and the second comes from @strengthcenteredspeech. For those who are using screen readers, I will share the text below the images.

Slide by @diversibility, black background, white text:

Text: More than half of Black people with disabilities in the United States will be arrested by the time they reach their late 20s.

Research by Erin J. McCauley, Med. MA (2017)

Slide by @strengthcenteredspeech brown background, white, yellow, and pink text:

Disability-inclusive protest etiquette: a guide

#blacklivesmatter

Remember that many disabled people will not be able to attend protests due to their disability or associated risks, no matter how much they want to be there.

— Avoid saying things like:
“Just show up”
“the front lines are where the real work is done”
“Get off the couch and join us”
They are ableist, shaming, and unhelpful.

— There are many ways to be involved, such as organizing, donating time, money, sharing information, and doing daily and committed work. “Doing the work” is not unique to the front lines and does not start or end there.

— Some disabled people will be attending protests alongside you. Understand that you will not always know who they are, as many disabilities are invisible.

— Respect people’s space. Some may be distancing due to increased health risks. This is especially true during a pandemic. NEVER touch or crowd anyone who is walking off to the side or suggesting in any way they want space.

— Do not touch or help physically disabled people or their mobility aids (wheelchairs, walkers, etc.) unless they directly ask. And please don’t tell them you’re inspired by them — this is ableist and offensive.

— This is an absolute rule: never assume someone is “faking” if you see them in a wheelchair one minute and out the next. Many disabled people can walk, but due to the nature of their disability are required to use a wheelchair in certain contexts.

Contact organizers to help ensure protests are accessible before the event

Specific actions you can request include:

— encouraging each march to have a rally alternative for people to congregate

— checking in about access to ramps and restrooms, as well as interpreters

— If possible, providing mobility aids and a team devoted to disability access in case needs arrive last-minute

— ensuring that all organized protest language is anti-ableist

Accessibility should be built in, not tacked on.

Educate yourself: black disabled people should never be an afterthought, especially when it comes to police brutality.

— Disabled people make up between one third and one half of all people killed by police, according to multiple studies (including at 2016 study by the Ruderman Foundation). Black Americans with disabilities are even more at-risk. Few make headlines.

— This issue is CENTRAL to the black disabled community. Learn the names of black disabled victims of police violence. Advocate for measures that protect disabled people wherever you discuss police deescalation techniques or community alternatives to policing.

— Remember that ALL black lives matter. If you’re not concerned with the lives of all disabled people, you are not a part of the Black Lives Matter Movement.

 

Image Descriptions: Two pictures of a golden doodle resting his head on my leg. I’m wearing red and black plaid pajama pants.

I’ve had a little buddy with me this weekend. He’s my friend’s golden doodle pup, and I got to watch him last night. He’s a very cuddly friend, and I think we both enjoyed our time together.

I’ve noticed this about him:

He’s nearly always aware of me. He follows me around the house. He watches me. He lies at my feet. He explores the house, sniffing things, but then he looks at me here and there to anchor and orient himself.

It makes me wonder…

To what… to do I orient myself? What am I aware of? What’s in my consciousness? Who and what are my anchors? Who and what do I attune toward?

— Renee Roederer