Smuggling Grace

Though I am no longer working as pastor in a congregational setting, several times a month, I lead services in Presbyterian churches, filling in for colleagues who are away. Most of the time, when I enter the worship space, the communion table is covered in paraments with liturgical colors and Christian symbols.

Last Sunday, the cloths on the communion table had images of produce — corn, cherries, and berries. Though not typical, this is a lovely set of images for a communion table where gratitude is voiced and sacred meals are shared. I noticed these paraments right away.

Then when I sat in my seat, I looked to my left where there was one more table. I had not yet noticed its covering. This table holds the Bible and the candles. And its cloth — its parament — had tractors all over it.

“This is for James, ” Susan said to me as she lit the candles. (Both names changed)

James is one of the youngest children connected to the community, and he’s the child present most frequently in worship. “You can’t have these” — Susan gestured to the fruits and vegetables on the communion table — “without these.” She pointed to the tractors.

“That’s true!” I replied, while smiling.

Mostly, I was smiling because I was touched that these elders are caring intentionally and collectively for their youngest child. Many young kids are enamored with tractors, and if that’s important to James, it’s important to them. And that is because James is important to them.

Within the best visions and expressions of Church, the sense of household keeps expanding. No longer are we bound only by those most immediate to us — under our roof, close to our age, similar to our background. The belonging is larger than that, and it keeps growing all the time.

“This is for James.”
That is lovely.

—Renee Roederer

On Saturday, there were five different No Kings rallies in my county. Between them, at least 12,000 people protested and marched. I attended one of them, and it was joyful. I saw so many signs that named the injustices currently underway — signs that take those seriously, too — but the people holding them were defiant in their solidarity and jubilation. Like many places elsewhere, there were people in inflatable costumes, and there was a great deal of humor.

In the midst of difficult realities, these events are fun. But they aren’t designed that way for their own sake. There is tremendous wisdom in this approach.

Before these events even took place, the Speaker of the House said that these would be “Hate America” rallies. Additionally, a few days ago, the White House Press Secretary said, “the Democrat Party’s main constituency are made up of Hamas terrorists, illegal aliens and violent criminals.” They seek to paint narratives of resistors as dangerous criminals.

But…

It’s pretty hard for that narrative to land when major cities have no arrests, and people are parading with costumes, music, and humor as they engage in vital truth telling. Also, they’re not all Democrats.

Sometimes, resistance involves busting the narratives.

Then there’s another narrative floating around, too: We don’t have Kings. These people are such whiners.

Last night, the President of the United States himself shared an AI generated video of him flying a plane and dumping excrement on protesting crowds — dressed as a king.

So which is it?

It’s pretty hard to say these rallies aren’t well-titled. Not because of AI slop but because of the self-perception of the one being protested. And most of all, because of his rollback of constitutional rights.

Sometimes, resistance involves busting the narratives.

—Renee Roederer

— Photos by Renee Roederer

So lovely.

This morning, I find myself thinking about interruptions — the types of unexpected experiences that change our lives in powerful ways. Some interruptions are undoubtedly disruptive, but others are gifts we never expected, like,

-the life-changing person we didn’t anticipate meeting,
-the invitation that put us in the right place at the right time,
-the story that encouraged us to ask a new question,
-the feedback that taught us something unrecognized in ourselves,
-the movement that emerged rather organically.

Though rarely sought after intentionally, some interruptions add depth and direction to the scope of our lives. They can also bring us into community in powerful ways. They are some of the greatest gifts we receive.

Today, I am pondering these kinds of interruptions in my life and giving thanks. While unexpected at the time, much later, these are the kinds of experiences we cannot imagine our lives without.

What are some of yours?

–Renee Roederer

I was interviewed recently for a podcast, and it was such an enjoyable experience. The Wheelie Good Podcast! is focused on cycling, and Doug French, the host, interviewed me about my immensely large project of e-biking from my home to every street in Ann Arbor in alphabetical order. This endeavor is wildly inefficient, but adventurous!

Doug is such a great interviewer. We started by talking about my project, but soon he was asking about different roles I’ve had and chapters I’ve lived. I felt a bit like I did a life review. And I think I was able to give at least a nod to just about every single community I’ve ever loved. It was so lovely.

A lot of the podcast centers upon epilepsy and community. Not surprisingly, that involves my leadership role with the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan, but also my own experience growing up with epilepsy in childhood.

Doug said something that no one has ever said to me before. It’s also not a thought I’ve ever had.

I was talking about how my work at the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan has been a 2nd career for me. Then I added, “But this is not an island I’m just visiting for a while. This is the pathway I see myself on for a very long time.”

Then Doug said, “But also, this was first. You were born with this.”

That’s a simple thought and on the surface, it’s about chronology. But it also felt special. Yes, 2nd career. But I’ve returned to the foundation — a key part of the beginning of my story. That’s not just about chronology. I feel so purposeful in this, and with gratitude. It makes me feel a sense of wholeness too, like I’m healing a part of my experience as well.

I’m still thinking about that line. The podcast episode will be out in about a month, and I’m looking forward to listening — and sharing it — when it’s ready.

—Renee Roederer

From time to time, we may need a reminder like this. As this image shares,

Your feelings with fluctuate

Your well being will fluctuate

Your performance will fluctuate

Your worth will not

This is true. There is nothing that any external forces, internal beliefs, relational conflicts, complex emotions, personal expectations, or failures can do — nothing — to diminish the worth of ourselves or our fellow human beings. So if that’s true, how will we view ourselves today? And how will we view those around us?

— Renee Roederer

During these turbulent times we must remind ourselves repeatedly that life goes on.
This we are apt to forget.
The wisdom of life transcends our wisdoms;
the purpose of life outlasts our purposes;
the process of life cushions our processes.
The mass attack of disillusion and despair,
distilled out of the collapse of hope,
has so invaded our thoughts that what we know to be true and valid seems unreal and ephemeral.
There seems to be little energy left for aught but futility.
This is the great deception.
By it whole peoples have gone down to oblivion 
without the will to affirm the great and permanent strength of the clean and the commonplace.
Let us not be deceived.
It is just as important as ever to attend to the little graces
by which the dignity of our lives is maintained and sustained.
Birds still sing;
the stars continue to cast their gentle gleam over the desolation of the battlefields,
and the heart is still inspired by the kind word and the gracious deed.
There is no need to fear evil.
There is every need to understand what it does,
how it operates in the world,
what it draws upon to sustain itself.
We must not shrink from the knowledge of the evilness of evil.
Over and over we must know that the real target of evil is not destruction of the body,
the reduction to rubble of cities;
the real target of evil is to corrupt the spirit of man 
and to give his soul the contagion of inner disintegration.
When this happens,
there is nothing left,
the very citadel of man is captured and laid waste.
Therefore the evil in the world around us must not be allowed to move from without to within.
This would be to be overcome by evil.
To drink in the beauty that is within reach,
to clothe one’s life with simple deeds of kindness,
to keep alive a sensitiveness to the movement of the spirit of God
in the quietness of the human heart and in the workings of the human mind—
this is as always the ultimate answer to the great deception.

Excerpted from Meditations of the Heart by Howard Thurman

What is EMDR?

Adam Copland writes,

The Best Drug I’ve Ever Taken Wasn’t Even a Drug. It was EMDR Therapy.

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, and it’s a highly effective treatment for trauma and high stress. Here’s how it works:

What is Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing Therapy?

EMDR is a helpful form of therapy for people who

1) want an experience that is somatic (reorganizing the brain and body’s reactions to trauma, stress, and anxiety)

and/or

2) want to do something that can accomplish a lot in a relatively short period of time

and/or

3) want to do less talking with a therapist (though this can also be a part of the process if desired or the therapist thinks it’s helpful) particularly if it’s hard to put emotions into words.

Dr. Bessel Van der Kolk, the author of The Body Keeps the Score: Mind, Brain, and Body in the Healing of Trauma shares that “I’m pretty sure that our EMDR study had by far the best outcome of any PTSD study ever done… It proves that there is something unique and amazing about EMDR.”

— Photos by Renee Roederer