Author: gracesmuggler

[NASA, Public Domain]

I found myself reflecting on this last night. . .

Every human being is like a universe. Metaphorically speaking, a host of galaxies.

Did you know that there are more atoms in just one strand of DNA than there are stars in most galaxies? That is beautiful and actually true!

Here’s the quote about this from Neil deGrasse Tyson:

“There are as many atoms in each molecule of your DNA as there are stars in the typical galaxy. This is true for dogs, and bears, and every living thing. We are, each of us, a little universe.” – The Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, Episode 2

Every human being, every animal, and every plant is gloriously intricate. Life is amazing in all its complexity and particularity.

This quote about atoms and DNA blows my mind, and it also expands how I think about my fellow human beings.

A little universe. . .

. . . the server from the restaurant where I ate lunch.

. . . the person who brings our mail.

. . . the person I passed on the street and will never see again.

. . . the internet troll.

. . . the person who is facing deportation.

I wish we truly saw each other in all our complexity and particularity. I want to open myself to this.

It doesn’t mean that we would instantly and magically all get along. It also doesn’t mean we shouldn’t decry horrific behavior. But it would certainly make it harder to dehumanize one another. And gracious, we need that.

I want to work more on this.

Humanity – a multiverse of beings in all their complexity and particularity.

– Renee Roederer

Remember when the world was so much bigger than we are?

A couple days ago, I sat on some bleachers next to a softball field, watching my partner Ian play a game with his team, Ten Guys Named Roy (which is a fabulous team name; no one is named Roy!)

A little friend sat with me. He was mesmerized by the players, and though he is preschool age, he paid attention pretty consistently while I tended to let my mind wander. Appropriate for his age, he also had a zillion questions.

I don’t want to idealize childhood entirely here. After all, when we’re so small, life is vulnerable and can feel quite scary at times. But in this moment of safety in a routine softball game, this kiddo reminded me of what it was like when the world was so much bigger than us – that it is so very interesting and there for our learning and questioning.

I found myself sad that we sometimes lose this understanding when we age.

But isn’t it still true? Isn’t the world so much bigger than us? Interesting and ready to receive our questioning?

I think so.

This little friend challenged me to try to recapture that posture and approach to life even as an adult. I’m working to be more present. I want to pay attention and marvel more, including at the small, daily things.

There are indeed stressors and injustices these days. These should not be dismissed or denied. There is an abysmal news cycle right now too.

But in the midst of these challenges, thank goodness, there are also relationships. There are also hopeful actions of vision, creative change, purpose, connection, and care.

There’s a big world even in our daily, routine life. It’s all worth our attention.

So in the stress and in the wonder, we have a big world. It’s worth our solidarity. It’s worth our marveling.

– Renee Roederer

If I could give one piece of advice to Christian congregations, it might be this – empower the leadership of the Almost-Dones.

Who am I talking about?

I’m talking about the people who are on the verge of leaving the congregational community.

I don’t mean the people who threaten to leave in a manipulative way – “If I don’t get my way about such-and-such small detail, I’m leaving this church and taking my pledge dollars with me!” (we know that can harm the community) — but instead, I mean the people who have given their departure some thought and deliberation.

I’m talking about people who agonize over potentially leaving. . .

• They don’t want to leave the community, but they keep considering it because they long for a different vision, particularly one that connects with local neighbors through justice, shared mission, and relationships of respect. Their thoughts of departure are not a manipulative ploy but a genuine calling. They experience their congregation as insular and become discouraged, recognizing that their church is concerned almost solely with the needs of its own members, growing its own membership roles, and expanding its own pledges and financial endowments. They begin to consider if they might follow the calling of Jesus more faithfully outside of that insular, institutional structure.

• Or they consider leaving because their congregation is causing deep harm to them or people they love. Their relationships bear the weight of pain through judgment, shame, injustice, gossip, scapegoating, or attempts to spread false information. Often, after first pursuing truth, justice, and reconciliation, if things don’t shift, these people find themselves in a painful dilemma. They would prefer to stay in relationship, but facing continued harm, they rightly consider a departure as the only way to preserve their spiritual and emotional health.

Maybe you’ve heard about the Dones? This is a sociological buzzword these days to describe Christians who have left congregations for these very reasons. These types of experiences are happening more regularly.

So I wonder what would happen if the Almost-Dones were asked to lead and were empowered to initiate actual changes?

As you might guess from what I wrote above, I’m not interested to empower the leadership of the Almost-Dones for insular reasons – so they can stay on the membership rolls and continue to add their pledge dollars. Instead, more vitally, I believe these Christians can lead us toward visions and expressions of Church that are more faithful, connectional, and relationally supportive.

What if these Christians were empowered lead their congregations out into the neighborhoods with justice, shared mission, relationships, and respect?

What if the people who have experienced harm inside the Church were heard and respected when they named that harm truthfully for what it is? On their own terms and at their own initiative?

That leadership and that truth would transform our communities.

– Renee Roederer

I invite you to check out the vision of Michigan Nones and Dones, our new community in Southeast Michigan. You can do so here, here, and here.

I also recommend reading Church Refugees: Sociologists Reveal Why Some Are DONE With Church But Not Their Faith by Joshua Packard and Ashleigh Hope. Packard and Hope coined the term ‘the Dones’ to describe Christians who left congregational settings for reasons like the ones above. They conducted in-depth interviews with about 100 participants as part of a sociological qualitative research study. Their results impacted my thinking in this post.

 

I’d like to share a bit with you about a young person named Bresha Meadows. Bresha is 15 years old and a survivor of longstanding, domestic violence. After protecting herself and her family from the abuse of her father, she faced a charge of aggravated murder. She has been imprisoned for the last nine months. She endured a great deal of trauma both before and after going to prison. Before that awful night, she attempted to run away from the house multiple times but was always returned. Her aunt filed with Child Protective Services, but nothing came of it. Meanwhile, her father regularly harmed her mother with physical violence and was routinely threatening to kill the whole family.

She is a child. Activists around the country are joining together to call for her release, believing that she needs care and support rather than incarceration. Her case has spotlighted the ways that domestic survivors are often punished for defending themselves, particularly black women and girls.

I’d like to invite you to read more about her story here: Free Bresha Meadows.

CAWS (Collective Against White Supremacy), a group in Ann Arbor with which I organize, is reaching out to friends and neighbors in order invite others to a social media action. If you’d like to participate, please join us.

Today, Bresha Meadows will be in court again for another, and possibly final, hearing. To show support, at or before 7:30am EDT (though if you see this later, or if you live in a part of a country that is still sleeping, later is certainly fine) people are invited to. . .

1) Sign the petition calling for her release.

2) “Check-in” on FB Monday, May 22 at 7:30am to the Trumbull County Family Court where Bresha is being held for a hearing. In this post, include a poem, song lyric, mantra, or call by a Black woman or girl with the hashtags #FreeBresha and #DecriminalizeSurvival. We take this action in solidarity with the Free Bresha Campaign, Black Girl Altar Project, and Love Poems for Bresha.

This effort is part of a Participatory Defense Campaign. If you want to learn about this organizing approach, please read this tremendous article by Mariame Kaba:

Free Us All

Thanks for reading this and learning more.

– Renee Roederer

Do you know this word – Kakistocracy?

According to a quick Google search, it means a state or country run by the worst, least qualified, or most unscrupulous citizens. It is a reality where the worst actors have a huge amount of power.

This week, I’ve been thinking about Kakistocracy – certainly in the government and news cycle, but also in my brain space. Over the last four months, there have been hours and days at a time when it seems like my brain continually gravitates to thinking about this and only this. There are times when I’ve slept through the night, but meanwhile, my brain has been processing this and only this.

It’s not always like that, but that happens.

I know I am not alone in this experience. Given what’s happening, this is natural. And while it’s certainly challenging, I think we all should feel our way through what’s happening because that’s a crucial part of solidarity. Some of us have the privilege checking out while others have been feeling this way much longer. Some can’t afford to check out because it could be costly to let their guard down. We need to feel these moments  alongside others.

That needs to be said and upheld as a commitment. But I also know that thinking about this constantly can be harmful, not only because it is challenging and gives it greater ultimacy, but because it zaps our energy for acting.

It’s hard to resist Kakistocracy when Kakistocracy is internalized. It’s hard to continue pushing forward in our important, creative work when our thinking patterns additionally feel invaded and oppressed. It’s hard to include others in solidarity if we find ourselves feeling pain in solitude.

So if you’re feeling this way – grace, grace, grace. 

And if you’re trying to shift these thinking patterns – grace, grace, grace. 

It’s not easy, and don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t shift quickly.

As I’ve heard from others, this is clear as well:

The actions and inactions of our government, along with the news cycle surrounding them, have also brought up resonances with some of the worst actors from other periods of our lives. Our ruminating thoughts might additionally be our bodies processing these other actors and chapters as well.

So grace, grace, grace.

What’s helpful for you?

Perhaps talk with a therapist or spiritual director. Make art. Take walks. Pray. Set good intentions. Keep connecting with loved ones. Sing joyfully in the shower. Love the work we are empowered to do. Continue to have dreams for our communities and for our own lives. Talk to a friend about the brain space. Know that you’re loved.

And practice mindfulness. When we get in these ruminating patterns, it can be helpful to say, “Okay, for x amount of time, I am only going to think about what is presently in front of me.” Then practice presence. And when we find ourselves moving away again, we just gently bring ourselves back.

again, again, again.

grace, grace, grace.

– Renee Roederer

Yesterday, our bus parked in Detroit, and I saw this message printed on windows:

Create the things you wish existed.

I was on that bus with many choral singers. We were headed to Orchestra Hall to rehearse Beethoven’s 9th Symphony with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. We have performances of it this weekend.

I’ve written a lot about Beethoven over the last nine months. I’ve been inspired by his music as the UMS Choral Union, our choir, has had four performance weeks of his works over the last year.

The 9th Symphony is truly a burst of joy, and I marvel at how it has uplifted people over time. I associate it with pivotal historical events like the falling of the Berlin Wall. I think about how that first audience almost 200 years ago lept to its feet at the end and threw hats in the air so Beethoven could see their appreciation and joy. He had composed something so masterful after losing his hearing completely.

And I think about how we need joyful inspiration now.

I know I do.

Last night at the rehearsal, Maestro Leonard Slatkin, our conductor, encouraged us to get out of the music on the written page and create a musical experience that will uplift and inspire.

“Think of the mess the world is in right now. For a moment, take us out of it. . .” he said.

Sounds like we need to create what we wish existed.

The text of this music talks about the worth and connectedness of humanity. It marvels about the sky of the universe – under the star-tent, it says – and wonders who or what might have created it all. Above all, it has exclamations of joy.

So tonight, we create that. We create the wonder of that wished-for recognition.

– Renee Roederer

My other pieces about Beethoven performances have been some of my favorite posts this year. Feel free to check those out too:

Life Finds a Way

The Joy of What We’re For

I Really Love Choral Singing

[Public Domain Image]

Our ties, connections, and relationships matter. When we are connected both personally and broadly, we can create a larger ethic of care. This is an intrinsic good.

Connections build empathy and solidarity, and these commitments create supportive and protective communities. Everyone needs this, especially when we fall on hard times.

Hugh Hollowell, founder and director of Love Wins Ministries in North Carolina, says that the opposite is homelessness isn’t just being housed. The real opposite of homelessness is community. When we extend our community relationships to include others, it is less likely that someone will experience homelessness. People often lose access to shelter because they’ve lost relationships.

We all need community support and care –

when we’ve lost a job,

when we’ve lost a loved one,

when we’ve left a relationship,

when we’ve left a religious community,

when we have mental health needs,

when we have financial needs,

when we have a deportation order,

when we’ve received a diagnosis,

when we don’t know where our next meal is coming from,

when we’ve experienced abuse.

Does someone come to mind when you read this list? Can you reach out to them so that their access to community ties are strong?

Do you find yourself on that list? Do you know that you’re worth support and belonging? You are. Reach out to someone and let them know how you’re really doing.

Community is an intrinsic good, and we all need it.

– Renee Roederer

[Public Domain Image]

When traveling this weekend, I started reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith. When it emerged in 2006, many of my friends and ministry colleagues read it. I’m a bit late to the party, but I’m finding it very valuable.

The large, narrative arc tells the story of Barbara Brown Taylor’s pain and faith transformation when she had to step away from her congregational ministry as a priest. She lifts up the dialectic of finding and losing faith as a process by which faith often finds us in new ways. It’s a good book.

But apart from that larger narrative arc, I’ve been pondering a particular passage too. She discusses a piece of wisdom that she gained from a friend:

When my friend Matilda lay dying of Lou Gehrig’s disease, she said that she had been prepared all her life to choose between good and evil. What no one had prepared her for, she lamented, was to choose between the good, the better, and the best — and yet this capacity turned out to be the one she most needed as she watched the sands of her life run out.

I thought of her often as my time ran out each day. Out of the long list of things I had promised to be and do at my ordination, the “wholesome example” part was the one that gave me most pause. I spent a great deal of time trying to be good, but was good the same as whole?

This passage really grabbed me. In some ways, it brings home the importance of prioritizing who and what are most meaningful to us. But beyond personal ties or some sort of #lifegoals, I’m thinking about this as a statement of calling itself — particularly during this collective moment when we are indeed seeing and pondering the difference between good and evil.

What good can we offer? But more, what is our better contribution? And even more, what is our best gift? To our communities and world?

I’ve been telling myself this lately (which reveals I’ve been doing the opposite) — Don’t underestimate the contribution of your best gifts. Too often, I find myself devaluing what I am equipped to do best, not because I think it isn’t valuable and needed, but because I fear it isn’t enough in this current climate of need.

I suppose if it were out there by itself, it wouldn’t be enough. That would be true.

But this is not about being good individually or achieving some kind of ‘well done’ status. This is about being whole, both inwardly and collectively. When we add our contributions to the whole, and when we receive from the whole, we can form transformative movements for change.

So what best can we give? What best can we receive?

–Renee Roederer

 

Later today, I’m hopping on a plane and traveling solo to Texas for the weekend. I’m really grateful to go there.  I’ve decided to view this as a pilgrimage of sorts. This time will be meaningful, and this framework for the visit will be helpful.

I’m flying into San Antonio. A very beloved person in my life is getting married on Saturday, and I’ll have the opportunity to spend time with a number of additional beloved people. It’s really a gift.

Even though I won’t be able to see everyone from my Texas community, I will certainly have the occasion to feel connected to them. We lived in Austin for five of our young adult years.  I still feel amazed at the sheer number of formative relationships that were a part of those years. These are the kinds of people I’ve been in relationship with for more than a decade as we moved across the country to California and Michigan, and as those people themselves moved to a multitude of other places. These are the kinds of bonds that have lasted and deepened over time.

I recognize it’s a real privilege to even be able to travel right now. Whether we can do that physically or not, I hope we can channel the formative and sustaining relationships that have shaped us. I hope these kinds of relationships can give us grounding, strength, and meaning.

I wonder, what it would look like if we invited ourselves on a pilgrimage through our relationships this weekend? If we called. . . if we recalled. . .

. . . If we felt called into the kind of love that sustains us and will sustain others?

–Renee Roederer

Over the weekend, I made a decision to focus on human connections as a theme in my writing for the week. I’ve done that here and here.

But when yesterday’s enormous news broke, I thought, “What do I say tomorrow. . .?” In a shocking turn of events, President Donald Trump has fired James Comey, the Director of the FBI. Yes, the Director of the FBI who is tasked with leading an investigation of the campaign of President Donald Trump.

It feels stunning, concerning, and scary.

Another layer of the unknown has been stacked upon a host of unknowns. We have carried the weight and stress of many unknowns for a while now. What has happened? What is happening? And probably most concerning for us, what is about to happen?

In light of these questions, perhaps we can consider our personal and collective connections to the unknown itself. If the unknown could hear us, what would we want to say to it? How does it reside right now in our bodies? When does it feel out-of-sight-out-of-mind? When does it seem to be the only thing on our minds?

What connections do we associate with the unknown?

Recently, I was thinking about what Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount. “Do not worry,” he says.

Um.

That’s harder than it seems, Jesus.

It absolutely can be hard. But recently, I’ve been viewing the whole Jesus movement in a new light. During the 1st century, Jesus and his followers were all living under the intense occupation of the Roman Empire. They were acquainted with oppression and regular abuses of power. Jesus says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

It might be good, practical advice. The whole passage surrounding this statement invites us to trust and recognize God’s provision and care, but it might also illumine a particular way of practicing care in the wake of challenging times.

Be present.

Stay in today.

Let today be the anchor.

This is not about escapism. Not at all. It’s about being so present that we can let the present moment be a vehicle for revealing what we need — the human connections we can engage, the emotions we need to feel, and of course, the callings that move us to action.

–Renee Roederer