Smuggling Grace

A quote from Howard Thurman:

“How do you interpret the events of your life? How do you measure them? Do you live your life on the basis that all that there is to you and what you do is wrapped up in the movement, the isolated, circumscribed movement, pulse beat of your little life? Now, if you do, then you know, you see, that the very nature of life is of such that it is fixed … it is finished, it is complete, and you know you can’t do anything about anything anyway so you don’t try….

Now there is another point of view, and this is the point of view of the prophet. And that is that human life, as well as the lives of nations, takes place within a context that is dynamic. That always when I am in the presence of any event, I am caught in an encounter with a series of potentials that spread out in the widest possible directions and with the most amazing variety of variation. So that if I am alert in the presence of the event, I seek to deal with the event in terms not merely of what it says, what it looks like, but in terms of what seems to me to be the dynamics of the event, the potentials of the event.

“Do you deal with events of your life in that way? Do you believe that life is really dynamic? That it isn’t quite finished yet? That not only are you involved always in a circling series of potentials, but that you are potential. You, potential. And no time band, no time interval is able quite to contain you and the dynamics of your life and your situation. Do you believe that?”

Howard Thurman, “The Message of Isaiah II,” June 22, 1952, in Moral Struggle and the Prophets, ed. Peter Eisenstadt and Walter Earl Fluker (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2020), 156, 157, 158–159.

We gathered on the Zoom screen and sat in silence. I joined the community from my kitchen table. One of the Zoom squares showed people in person as well. They were gathered in the meeting room of the Ann Arbor Friends Meeting.

Worship began, and we were all quiet for at least ten minutes.

Then someone read the queries for the day. We sat quietly as reflection questions washed over us. These were questions about about spiritual practice.

Often Quakers will pray by saying, “We hold this person in the light.” We can also hold ourselves and each other in questions. The light is in the questions. One of my loved ones often says, “If you find yourself feeling stuck, ask a new question.”

If we ask a new question, we open ourselves to possibilities – creative pathways and new angles for relating.

The light is in the questions.

— Renee Roederer

Beware of playing trivia with strangers.

Because once you’ve chosen a goal of having people time every day, but you’re in COVID isolation, you’ll find a Meetup group that’s plays Trivia over Zoom, and you will register. And then you’ll get on a screen with “Ann Arbor Adventurers,” and they’ll all know each other, but you’ll be new. (They’ll also welcome you kindly).

And then, as soon as you get to the very first question, you’ll hear this prompt:

“What kind of document was created in the 1920s by the League of Nations, and every nation today uses it?”

And you’ll think, well… the timing doesn’t seem right, but I’ll go ahead and say,

“Geneva Convention,”

but every single other human on the screen will say,

“Passports!”

And they’ll be right. And you will have said Geneva Convention.

Beware.

Beware.

–Renee Roederer

I love birthdays.

I love my birthday. I love your birthday. I love everyone’s birthdays. I love all of them. I love them more than holidays.

It’s just really wonderful that we humans have this longstanding tradition so that each person has a day on the calendar for connection, surprises, gratitude, and appreciation. I sincerely love that we have all of these rituals for the day a person is born.

Yesterday was my birthday, and you guessed it: I loved it.

I can’t say it was the most eventful one I’ve ever had. Though my symptoms have subsided, I was in Covid isolation for the day.

But three people stopped by to bring me treats. (Grateful!)

And I heard from so many loved ones. This is the thing I love about birthdays in our current era: Social media becomes a place of shoutouts, and people from all the various chapters of your life become this assembly of connection. I was very grateful to receive from that yesterday.

Since my birthday is right at the beginning of the year, I think I can say confidently with anticipation,

You’re next!

–Renee Roederer

Mornings at Blackwater
By Mary Oliver

For years, every morning, I drank

from Blackwater Pond.

It was flavored with oak leaves and also,

no doubt,

the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me

from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is

that the past is the past,

and the present is what your life is,

and you are capable

of choosing what that will be,

darling citizen.

So come to the pond,

or the river of your imagination,

or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.

And live

your life.

Happy New Year!

I hope that you had a lovely experience ringing in the new year, and I hope that 2023 has some lovely moments in store. I know that this turn into a new calendar year is in some sense an arbitrary marker. The joy-filled parts of our lives are crossing over with us, and the difficult challenges are as well. But markers of time can serve as openings to ask new questions, initiate new practices, or appreciate possibilities. I welcome that.

And for whatever reason, I have a very good feeling about 2023. I feel renewed energy.

That’s my primary feeling as we move in this direction. This is also true for me in a literal sense. I spent the Christmas holiday with COVID, and now that I’m on the mend, I can’t begin to tell you how much better I feel than a mere few days ago.

I also took an extended break from blogging, and that was the first time I’ve done that in seven years. I didn’t think of it as a Sabbatical in terms of the timing, but given the seven-year marker, I suppose it was a mini version of that.

In all of these things, I feel renewed energy. Any time we feel that, I think we should embrace it. And any time that feels right, we can share it.

In multiple ways, I’m glad to be back.

Happy New Year! I wish you renewed energy too.

—Renee Roederer

During this season, I’ve been thinking a great deal about gratitude and living more fully in the present moment.

I have found this to be true:

Gratitude helps us
hold lightly, and
hold deeply.

These two things at once.

The practice of gratitude helps us hold experiences lightly, because we recognize that all things are constantly changing. Gratitude doesn’t seek to control people, situations, or outcomes. Instead, we can receive from all of these as they change.

The practice of gratitude helps us hold experiences deeply, because we recognize their value and are fully present. Gratitude connects us deeply with our daily lives and most especially, people. Gratitude strengthens connections and bonds.

–Renee Roederer

I walked into Panera to get my morning coffee, as I often do. (By the way, I don’t intend to be a commercial, but do you know that you can get a coffee subscription at Panera, and for $11.99 a month, you can receive unlimited coffee? It’s amazing!) When I opened the door, Bill Wither’s “Lean on Me” was playing inside the restaurant. As I walked over to the coffee station and began to fill up, I was singing along under my breath.

Sometimes in our life, we all have pain,
We all have sorrow.
But if we are wise,
We know that there’s always tomorrow.

“Listen to us,” a woman nearby said. I hadn’t noticed, but three other people were singing quietly, just as I was.

We laughed, smiled big, and then all four of us started singing together, and right at the moment of the chorus too — Lean on me! When you’re not strong!— in harmony.

That was delightful.

–Renee Roederer

In the midst of pain — our own or that of the world around us – it can sometimes seem downright foolish to let ourselves become hopeful. It can even be risky —

What if things never get better than this?

What if the next catastrophe still happens?

What if I look like a fool?

Hope takes risk, I suppose. Hope certainly doesn’t put us in control. Hope might invite us to desire things that in the end, we do not get to see.

But hope also has a way of creating things – things that could barely be imagined before. Hope helps our imagination become alive, and from there, when we envision other possibilities, we soon discover that we are called to participate in their creation. Hope leads us somewhere.

And so, in the midst of it all — whatever it is for you; whatever it is for the world — what might it look like to dare to take heart?

–Renee Roederer