I am not sure if this is normal for “regular” people, but this is what church geeks talk about: redemption.

I had lunch with a friend yesterday. After catching up and sharing the current details of life, we got on the subject of redemption – specifically, God’s redemption of all things. (Yup, that’s us…on a sidewalk café in Wrigleyville.)
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This conversation was about a very specific relationship, and yet, I think could transcend to many broken relationships. God redeems and makes new. That is what God does. That is the business God is in. What about when one person in the relationship does not repent, does not own up to their mistakes and the hurt it caused. Can there be sacred redemption without human repentance? My theology says yes. God does not need us to make all things new. But my (and our) human healing needs a bit of repentance.

Jump ahead to later that day when I am reading Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the U.S. by Lenny Duncan. In this book Pastor Duncan has a powerful chapter called: Repentance, Reparations, Reconciliation. His book is a challenge to the churchbody in which he serves. (and I serve)
This is what I hear as I read: Stop with the hand-wringing about declining numbers and monetary giving. The answer to the future of the church is to welcome all people, specifically people of color and LGBTQIA folks. And not with greeters at the door and a gift of a mug with the church logo. The only welcome that will “save” the church as we know it is to dismantle it. Acknowledge the racism, sexism, toxic masculinity, and nationalism that permeates the organizational structure and replace it the three “R’s” above – in that order.

OK, I know that is a lot to take in if you have not read this book. (Church leaders - I urge you to read this book.) It helped me frame our individual relationships and the hurt and harm we inflict on one another. Yes, God makes things new. God also desires us to see the divine nature of each other and God hurts when we discard the sacred for our desire to be ….. (right, powerful, smart, in control, etc)

• Repentance: sincere regret or remorse
• Reparations: the making of amends for a wrong one has done, by paying money or otherwise helping those who have been wronged
• Reconciliation: the restoration of a relationship

In that order, as Pastor Duncan compels us to do.

Wow. That is hard. We are called to do hard work. All of us. Not just pastors and church staff. All of us. We are called to be a part of God’s healing in and of the world.

Finally, in church this morning the Bible lessons, hymns and prayers were all about healing. (Of course, they were.) When we sang the hymn, We Come to You for Healing, Lord, tears welled up in my eyes. Our personal relationships are broken. Our political system is broken. Our churches’ established practices are broken. That all feels heavy.
There is hope. That is why I come to church: to be reminded of that hope and to be with others who hope.
​And I go to be reminded that God can and does make all things new.
~ Pam

We Come to You for Healing, Lord
We come to you for healing, Lord, of body, mind and soul,
and pray that by your Spirit’s touch, we may again be whole.

As once you walked through ancient streets and reached toward those in pain,
come, risen Christ, among us still with power to heal again.

When nights are long with wakefulness, through days when strength runs low,
grant us your gift of patience, Lord, your calming peace to know.

We come to you, O loving Lord, in our distress and pain,
in trust that through our nights and days your grace will heal, sustain.

​When I was in middle school, I wanted to paint a mural on the inside wall of our family’s garage. My parents asked me why I wanted to do it. I don’t remember my actual answers but I bet they were something like:

• It would be fun.
• It will look nice.
• I want to.

I do remember the word-for-word parental answer to my request: “When you get your own garage, you can paint a mural on it.” So, I did. In 1992 I painted a mural of the Hawaiian Islands on one of the walls in my garage.
Now 27 years later, I am painting another wall in my garage. Why? The exact same reasons I wanted to many years ago!

There are many studies that outline the importance of play just for play’s sake, but we don’t need studies. We just know that feeling when we are being playful for no other reason than because we want to do it. And yet, as adults we do not prioritize playfulness for ourselves. We encourage our kids to “put down your phone and go outside and play.” We carefully craft employee workshops and outings so it includes some time to “not be so serious.” Those are good but they are not the same things as moments of personal and spontaneous playfulness.

So…I went to Home Depot and picked up a gallon of ‘oops’ paint in Robin Egg Blue.

My intention for this wall evolved as I began and I listened to the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman while I painted. Lyrics like: “[Where the] impossible comes true. It’s takin’ over you.” and “The brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake, I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see.” inspired me to make this wall a place of personal inspiration. It is what I see as I pull my car out each morning and what I see at the end of each day when I return home.

So this is my view:

1. Grounding myself in my family I see the tandem bike that I rode with my Grandfather. I was in back with my feet up until he asked, “Pam, are you pedaling?” My mom’s sled from when she was a girl. My grandpa’s license plate from the year I was born.
2. The election signs of people I admire and who did not let cultural and racial barriers stop their desire to serve in an elected office. (Remember the name Hadiya Afzal!)
3. And the poster of Muhammad Ali. This hung in my first office 20 years ago when my church was starting an afterschool program for area kids. This poster reminds me to trust my own instincts. At the time I knew nothing of white privilege and had no anti-racism training. I did know that heroes do not all look alike and that we need to make visible the heroes of all people, especially for our children.
   And…..Ali is inspiring all on his own!

So, what will you do to be playful today? Camp out tonight in your backyard? Make a new exotic recipe and share it with friends? Get out your kids’ Play-doe after they go to school?
These days it sometimes seems joy is hard to find. It is not. According to Glinda, it is as close as your own backyard. Enjoy your play!
~ Pam

There are two kinds of adventurers: those who go truly hoping to find adventure and those who go secretly hoping they won’t.
​(William Least Heat-Moon in Blue Highways: A Journey into America)

For many years I have gone on little adventures; just a few days away by myself, mostly no farther than a day’s drive. It is a time to hear the sound of my own thoughts, take a break from schedules and experience things that my family is not interested. Beginning with the very first one, I got lost. It totally stressed me out. This was before in-car navigation and cell phones. All I had was an awkward, too-large-for-the-front-seat paper map. I finally found my way to the hotel after navigating road closures, detours and rain. I dried off, took a breath and then was delighted when I found the hotel bar featured a string quartet that evening. I was able to let go.

Ever since that first trip, I now look forward to the moment when I am lost. It happens every time I travel. It is part of the adventure! So now when it happens, usually at night and/or in the rain, I have a moment when I literally say out loud to myself, “Here it is.” I embrace that part of the trip like every other part. For me it is a way to relinquish control, albeit reluctantly.

After all these years of adventures I have learned that getting lost means that I will also be found. And learning that being found does not happen in the way I imagine.
·       Sometimes I do it alone.
·       Sometimes I ask for help.
·       Sometimes I end up somewhere unexpected.
·       Sometimes I easily fall back into my plan.
 
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the confidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)
Faith is believing in something when common sense tells you not to. (Miracle on 34th Street)

At some point we all have lost; our way, joy, laughter, hope, our voice, love. This is the reality of being human. The other reality is that we are created for community. When we are lost, we are not alone. (Although sometimes it feels that way.) Because we are in community, we will be found.

How do I know? Because I have confidence in all the good that is unseen.
Because I believe when common sense tells me not to. I have faith.
And when my faith wavers, you have faith for me.
We are always found.
​~ Pam

I just came home from the Institute of Liturgical Studies held at Valparaiso University in Indiana. It is a 3-day conference which focuses generally on worship and specifically on Proclamation of the Word through preaching, song, and teaching; and how the Work of the People (the liturgy) informs, grows and strengthens our faith for our work in the world. It is a wonderfully thick and profound three days.

This year the theme was: Table of Thanksgiving: How the Eucharistic Forms Us. As always, the plenary speakers and workshop facilitators were thoughtful and helpful. Each year I take home something to use in my work at church. This year was strange since I do not have church work (at the moment) to immediately apply my learnings.  I still took notes and got resources to store away in my toolbox. My immediate learning this year was deeply personal.

I experienced many moments of pure grace. These are two that are still with me.
·       A friend greeted me with a hug, looked me in the eye and said, “How are you doing in this in-between time?” So many times, we do not want to make reference to someone’s pain. It can be uncomfortable. And yet if we are willing to risk discomfort, we can transcend the surface relationship and be truly human with one another. Just him asking the question was enough.
·       During one of the refreshment breaks, a fond acquaintance asked how life was recently. I answered, “It has been difficult.” He said, “Yes, for me too.” He asked about me and then told me that his companion died during Holy Week after multiple cancer diagnoses. We sat knee to knee in a crowded conference room quietly listening to each other – to all that was said and unsaid. It was a holy moment saturated in mutual vulnerability.

When we are the Body of Christ together, there is no hierarchy of pain or grief. We are simply one – together. It struck me that at a conference titled: How Eucharist Forms Us; I experienced over and over again the concrete reality of that formation. As a post communion prayer states, “After now receiving the Body of Christ, send us out to be the Body of Christ for the world.”

This is what I experienced: the best of what church (the Body of Christ) can be. This is what will sustain me until I can get out my tool box and use it again.

Alleluia!
~ Pam