Author: gracesmuggler

Image Description: This is an image of Spiral Galaxy ESO-137-001 as captured by the Hubble Space Telescope.

In a couple weeks, I’m going to be speaking on a beautiful passage from the Hebrew Bible. The poetic text of Isaiah includes this vision:

And now the Lord says,
   who formed me in the womb to be his servant,
to bring Jacob back to him,
   and that Israel might be gathered to him,
for I am honored in the sight of the Lord,
   and my God has become my strength—
God says,

‘It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
   to raise up the tribes of Jacob
   and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
   that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.’
(Isaiah 49:5-6)

An unexpected vision… one that might be hard to believe? Nearly impossible to believe?

These words were originally spoken to captives — people who had been forcibly removed from their homeland with no obvious likelihood of return. They were stripped of their culture and humiliated. They were traumatized, separated from layers and layers of their identity, and treated as the lowest people. Why should they believe in any form of expansiveness? For their lives? For their community’s lives? For the world?

It is too light a thing…

It makes me wonder how a vision can catch us, unexpectedly, in ways that are hard to believe right when we’re traumatized and feeling broken. Maybe it is also too light a thing to lose vision.

Returning to ourselves
Returning to each other
Returning to hope
Returning to possibility

Expanding ourselves
Expanding each other
Expanding hope
Expanding possibility.

—Renee Roederer

Image Description: On a brown piece of paper, the words “Thank you!” are written in black writing with a red heart underneath.

Hello, Dear Friends,

I want to take a moment to thank you personally for following my writing on Smuggling Grace. Each week, I enjoy connecting with you here. I greatly appreciate the ways you add yourselves and initiate conversations within these pieces. Thank you so much.

Twice per year, I offer an invitation for people to give a gift to support this work. Donations large and small allow me to keep writing free of charge, and that support also contributes toward the larger vision of what I am doing in Southeast Michigan as well.

If these pieces have been meaningful to you, and you are able to give, would you like to contribute? No gift is too small, and every bit is appreciated!

Click here to support Smuggling Grace.

Your presence is also a gift. Many thanks to you all!
Renee Roederer

Image Description: Rays of sunlight shine through trees of a forrest. Public domain image.

My friend recently wrote this poem, and with her permission, I’d like to share it with you.

Image Description: A bitmoji of Renee, riding a unicorn! Above is a rainbow, and within it, the text says, “Have a Magical Birthday!”

Yesterday was my birthday, and wow — I mean, WOW — community came through in such an expression of love and connection. With a lot of gratitude, I have been so moved by it.

Social media birthdays are fun because they allow you to have a full day of connection with people from the many chapters of your life. Knowing this birthday was around the corner, the day before, I asked people in the social media-sphere if they would share with me a memory we have together, either meaningful or funny. And all day long on my birthday, both privately and publicly, I received the gift of kind words and memories. Some made me teary, and some made me laugh. They all made me smile.

Then… picking up on it, I was completely surprised to discover that my colleagues across the country started a thread within Young PC(USA) Leaders, the Facebook group I help administer, to give me the exact same gift. You know how you can be so floored by something that you feel a little shy? I skimmed this thread yesterday because I was so overwhelmed (in a good sense); today, will read it closely and meaningfully.

Everyone should deserve to feel this celebrated. I will pay it forward for sure.

And in person, the day was great too!

I made myself aloo matar, one of my very favorite dishes.

I ate a cake pop with the amazing N.J. Phillips.

Transformed my hair…

… into a cool haircut…

… thanks to the amazing talents of Sierra Smith.

And I had dessert…

… with my friend Blair Buckley.

WOW. What a day.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: Rays of sunlight shine through trees of a forrest. Public domain image.

So I confess that I’m not a big Marianne Williamson fan, but I have been sharing one of her quotes for years. I see that someone on the internets has put that quote into poem formatting, which I will now copy and paste below. I want to share this today at the beginning of a new year.

There are times when we realize we are swimming in self-doubt, struggling with internalized shame, or limiting what we think could be possible. And there are times when we realize people are determined to reduce us, project onto us, or treat us as though we are their problem to be solved.

What changes might we make to shift our thinking and acting? How might we change our roles in relationship? No need to play small.

Our Deepest Fear
By Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

I love this poem by Kaitlin Hardy Shetler, and I’d like to share it with you today.

A Real Scandal of the Birth of God (A Christmas Poem)
by Kaitlin Hardy Shetler

sometimes I wonder
if Mary breastfed Jesus.
if she cried out when he bit her
or if she sobbed when he would not latch.

and sometimes I wonder
if this is all too vulgar
to ask in a church
full of men
without milk stains on their shirts
or coconut oil on their breasts
preaching from pulpits off limits to the Mother of God.

but then i think of feeding Jesus,
birthing Jesus,
the expulsion of blood
and smell of sweat,
the salt of a mother’s tears
onto the soft head of the Salt of the Earth,
feeling lonely
and tired
hungry
annoyed
overwhelmed
loving

and i think,
if the vulgarity of birth is not
honestly preached
by men who carry power but not burden,
who carry privilege but not labor,
who carry authority but not submission,
then it should not be preached at all.

because the real scandal of the Birth of God
lies in the cracked nipples of a
14 year old
and not in the sermons of ministers
who say women
are too delicate
to lead.

Image Description: A person is lifting up a baby who is wearing a superman costume. The baby is sticking out their tongue.

I’ve been thinking about this more and more:

Every single person has a strength, gift, talent, or way of being in the world that comes so naturally to who they are — so much so, in fact, that it’s easy for them to forget it’s a strength, gift, talent, or way of being in the world. It’s just always a part of who they are.

And yet, when this gift turned in the direction of community with intention, it can be absolutely transformative. Every single person has a rare gift like this. In fact, probably more than one.

Due to the pressures around us, our task load, expectations (our own or others’) and a myriad of distractions, there are times when this rare gift gets put to the side; we’ll get to it when we have time for it, or when we’re practicing better care of ourselves.

But here’s the thing. We need to be rooted in our rare gift. Our family and community benefits from our gift. The world needs to receive our best, rare gift.

This is how I counsel young adults these days, and I pass the same on along to you.

Protect that rare gift.

Do what you can to honor it. After all, when you’re living in connection with it, you probably feel most alive, right? Howard Thurman used to say, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive.”

Do what you can to make sure it gets time.

Do what you can to make sure it is addressing a larger purpose.

Do what you can to make sure that it gets care, and that you get care for yourself as the keeper of that gift. (And all that you are).

And

Put it into practice. Come alive.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: Three hearts are carved out of wood and hanging by three wires. One is red, one is orange, and one is green.

Over the last few weeks, on three occasions, I have just happened to spot something really wonderful. While scrolling through social media, I’ve encountered three examples of connections that are very meaningful to me.

Specifically, I’ve spotted moments when my mentors have reached out intentionally to people I’ve mentored — asking how their week is going, expressing a desire to get coffee, and donating to their GoFundMe fundraiser. I’ve introduced these people to each other. They don’t live in the same places, but they are connected.

And I realize that we’re all a part of a generational structure of sorts, both by age and by mentoring. There’s a big sense of family in all of it.

This is a great gift to my life.

—Renee Roederer

Image Description: Clay art pieces are on a flat surface. They are shaped like people who are standing in a circle with arms around each other. There are three circles of people.

I’ll be honest with you about something.

When it comes to being a pastor, as I was for seven years, I certainly believe in being thoughtful about the role. It’s particularly important to ensure you never abuse the power of that role, including emotionally.

That being said, I never really bought the idea that pastors are somehow completely separate from the community they are serving — as if they are only a professional providing service, and therefore, must keep a great deal of their own lives hidden and out of view. I also never really bought the idea that the pastor is the only person providing care in the congregation, or that the pastor never receives from the congregation.

And yet, I think many pastors and ministry leaders feel pressure to live precisely this way. Does it really aid a congregation when they are only ever receivers of care and never practitioners of care? Does a congregation ever aid a pastor in holding expectations that the pastor is to be the single, spiritual professional who does it all?

I’ll tell you something refreshing.

When I and some others started the Michigan Nones and Dones community, one of the most meaningful aspects was the collective vision. This included the ways that we all shaped conversations collectively.

Michigan Nones and Dones is a community is for people who are “spiritually curious but institutionally suspicious.” It includes people who are religiously unaffiliated (the Nones), people who have left traditional, institutional congregations and religious communities (the Dones) and people who have maintained a sense of religious identity but want to practice spiritual community in different ways.

I am often the facilitator of conversation, but I’m never the sole teacher or storyteller. Everyone adds their insights, thoughts, and experiences to our shared conversations. We are all transformed and enriched by it. I don’t want to speak too generally, but I find that religiously unaffiliated people often value flat leadership structures. Personally, I find this collective vision to be refreshing and invigorating.

Now, it’s important to say two things: In the Michigan Nones and Dones community, we are not seeking to be a church, so these things are entirely comparable. And there are plenty of people in congregations who want to make shifts so that leadership, empowerment, and care are more shared. And to this, I say, more power to them!

—Renee Roederer

Image Description: A comic by BJenny Montero. There is a turquoise background, and in the middle of the image, there are two concentric circles. The outer circle is a white band. The inner circle includes a number of animal characters — two birds, two alligators, a dog, and a worm using a wheelchair with a red and white checkered blanket over the worm’s lap. All the characters are smiling and looking in sightly different directions. In the middle of the inner circle, some text reads, “Sometimes I can’t make it on my own.” Then in the bottom right corner of the image, the text reads, “That’s OK!”

Independence is a value in Western cultures, but… independence is also a myth.

I’ve just finished reading the transcript of a powerful address by Mia Mingus, a disability justice activist whose work I greatly admire. Her remarks are entitled, “Access Intimacy, Interdependence and Disability Justice” and were given as the 2017 Paul K. Longmore Lecture on Disability Studies at San Francisco State University.

Within those remarks, she says this:

“Access should be happening in service of our larger goals of building interdependence and embracing need, because this is such a deep part of challenging ableism and the myth of independence. The myth of independence is the idea that we can and should be able to do everything on our own and, of course, we know that that’s not true. Someone made the clothes you’re wearing now, your shoes, your car or the mass transit system you use; we don’t grow all our own food and spices. We can’t pretend that what happens in this country doesn’t affect others, or that things like clean air and water don’t bound us all together. We are dependent on each other, period. The myth of independence reflects such a deep level of privilege, especially in this rugged individualistic capitalist society and produced the very idea that we could even mildly conceive of our lives or our accomplishments as solely our own. And of course, the other side of this is not just that it’s not true—not just that the emperor has no clothes, but that everyone else should pretend he’s fully clothed too. So, the Myth of Independence is not just about the truth of being connected and interdependent on one another; it is also about the high value that gets placed on buying into the myth and believing that you are independent; and the high value placed on striving to be independent, another corner stone of the ableist culture we live in.

“Interdependence moves us away from the myth of independence, and towards relationships where we are all valued and have things to offer. It moves us away from knowing disability only through ‘dependence,’ which paints disabled bodies as being a burden to others, at the mercy of able-bodied people’s benevolence. We become charity cases, a way for able bodied people to feel better about themselves and we in turn, internalize our sense of being a burden, sad, and tragic. All of this sets up a dynamic where disabled people feel like we have to be ‘liked’ in order to receive basic daily access to live and where able bodied people feel entitled to receive praise and recognition for providing access. This is not access intimacy and this dynamic of disabled people being ‘dependent’ on able bodied people shapes so many disabled people’s lives and is the foundation upon which so much domination, control, violence and abuse happens.”

We are dependent upon one another.

We all need care from others.

We all have care to offer to others.

We all have need.

What if we embraced this? What if we created relational intimacy around this? What if we received more freely and fully from others? What if we gave more freely and fully among others who are also giving and receiving more freely and fully?

–Renee Roederer