spirituality – Southwest Conference Blog

Beyond the Ballot: A Christian Call to Understanding in Divided Times

by Christopher Schouten

We live in deeply polarized times. If you’re reading this, chances are you’ve felt bewildered, frustrated, or even angered by the political choices of fellow Americans, perhaps even friends or family members. The rise and continued support for figures like Donald Trump often elicit strong reactions, and the question “How can they possibly support him?” echoes in many conversations. For those of us guided by faith, this political chasm presents not only a civic challenge but a spiritual one. How do we respond when faced with views that seem diametrically opposed to our own, especially when guided by Christ’s teachings?

Common answers often point to racism, ignorance, or blind allegiance. While prejudice and misinformation are undeniably part of the complex picture, relying solely on these explanations can sometimes feel insufficient. It can shut down curiosity and prevent us from understanding the deeper currents that might be influencing millions of people. As Christians, we are called to something deeper than surface judgment. We’re called to look beyond outward appearances, remembering that “The Lord does not look at the things people look at… the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). If our goal is not just to win arguments, but perhaps to build bridges as peacemakers (Matthew 5:9) and reflect Christ’s love, we need to be willing to explore the underlying human experiences with a spirit of compassion.

This isn’t about excusing harmful beliefs or actions. Understanding is not endorsement, and we must always speak truth to injustice. But it is about recognizing the shared humanity, the Imago Dei, in every person, and exploring the complex motivations that might lead someone to a vastly different political conclusion. Drawing from conversations, observations, and trying to piece together the ‘why’, I believe a significant driver is a profound anxiety rooted in the dizzying pace and nature of change transforming America and the world.

The Currents Beneath the Surface: Change, Fear, and the Search for Stability

Imagine feeling like the ground is constantly shifting beneath your feet. For decades, many communities, particularly outside major urban centers, have experienced significant economic disruption – manufacturing jobs disappear, small towns struggle, and promises of prosperity ring hollow. But even for those not directly experiencing all these shifts locally, the perception of rapid, unsettling change elsewhere – witnessed daily through news feeds, social media, and television – can be profoundly destabilizing. This perceived pace of transformation, often focusing on urban centers or evolving cultural norms, is frequently highlighted and amplified by political narratives seeking to exploit the resulting anxiety. Simultaneously, technology reframes entire industries and social interactions at lightning speed across the board. Cultural norms evolve, demographic landscapes shift, and long-held identities or social hierarchies feel questioned or overturned, contributing to this widespread sense of unease.

For someone whose identity, livelihood, or sense of community feels deeply tied to a particular way of life, this relentless change – whether directly experienced or intensely observed – isn’t just an abstract concept; it can feel like a direct threat. It can breed anxiety about the future, nostalgia for a perceived simpler past, and a feeling of being left behind or ignored by a mainstream culture that seems to celebrate constant disruption. This anxiety is real, even if the conclusions drawn from it are ones we strongly disagree with. Recognizing this vulnerability is an act of compassion, reflecting the call to “clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience” (Colossians 3:12).

Consider the perspective from some rural areas. They might see rapid cultural shifts portrayed in national media that feel alien to their daily lives and values. It can foster a sense of “us vs. them,” a feeling that their way of life is misunderstood, mocked, or under siege by distant forces. Similarly, older individuals often have decades invested in the world as it was; rapid change can feel particularly destabilizing when you’ve built a life within a certain framework. This isn’t necessarily about rejecting progress wholesale, but about the speed and nature of the change feeling overwhelming and imposed.

When people feel anxious, destabilized, and ignored, they become understandably receptive to narratives that offer clarity, validation, and a sense of control. This is where political leadership and messaging become crucial.

Narratives of Restoration and the Appeal of the Strongman

Fear and anxiety create fertile ground for leaders who promise to restore order, defend traditional values, and fight back against the perceived sources of disruption. The appeal lies in the promise of stability, of returning to a time when things felt more certain or when their group held a more central place in the American narrative.

This is often accompanied by identifying clear ‘enemies’ or scapegoats – be it immigrants, ‘elites’, liberals, or specific minority groups. Channeling complex anxieties about economic insecurity or cultural change onto specific groups simplifies the world. It offers someone to blame and unites people in shared opposition. This mechanism is as old as politics itself, but it finds powerful resonance in times of widespread unease. As people of faith, we must be wary of such divisions, remembering the call to unity and the inherent worth of all people.

When a figure like Trump speaks directly to these feelings – validating the anger, acknowledging the sense of loss, promising to “make things great again” – it can feel incredibly powerful to those who feel left behind. His actions, such as rolling back regulations or appointing conservative judges, can be interpreted by supporters as concrete proof that he is fulfilling his promise to turn back the clock, providing tangible reassurance that someone is fighting for them against the tide of change. It’s less about critical analysis of policy impacts and more about the symbolic affirmation that their fears are recognized and acted upon.

Bridging the Gap: A Christian Mandate to Reach Out

Acknowledging these underlying dynamics doesn’t mean we agree with the conclusions or condone the prejudices that can arise. The real-world consequences of certain political choices and rhetoric are severe, and faithfulness often requires speaking out against them. Faced with the pain and division these viewpoints can cause, many of us, understandably, have made the difficult choice to distance ourselves, sometimes cutting ties altogether to protect our own well-being. That decision is deeply personal and often necessary. Yet, we must also recognize that disengagement, while preserving peace in one sense, closes the door on the possibility of mutual understanding or gentle influence.

If we hope to be agents of reconciliation, however small, it likely won’t come through winning arguments that prove weare right. Rather, it might emerge from embodying Christ’s love through compassionate engagement – an approach that seeks to understand the person behind the views and, perhaps, opens a door for them to encounter alternative perspectives as human and valid, not just threatening.

How, then, do we navigate this tension? How do we remain faithful to truth and justice while also heeding Christ’s radical command in Matthew 5:44: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you”? This isn’t a suggestion; it’s a core tenet of following Him. It challenges us to see even those whose views we find harmful not merely as opponents, but as people loved by God, potentially captive to fear or misinformation.

So, how can we embody this difficult love in practical ways?

Listen with Humility: Approach conversations with genuine curiosity and humility, seeking to understand before seeking to be understood (James 1:19). Ask open-ended questions about their experiences, worries, and hopes. Resist the urge to immediately rebut or formulate your counter-argument. Focus first on hearing their story, recognizing their inherent dignity.
Seek Common Ground: Look for shared values or frustrations outside of hot-button politics. Concerns about family, community well-being, honesty, fairness – these often transcend political labels. Connect on shared humanity first. Remember Paul’s approach in Athens, finding common ground before introducing a different perspective (Acts 17).
Validate Feelings, Not Necessarily Beliefs: You can acknowledge someone’s frustration or fear (“It sounds like you feel really left behind by the economy”) without agreeing with their explanation for it. This reflects compassion and opens doors rather than slamming them shut.
Share Your Story with Grace: Sometimes, sharing your own experiences or perspectives, perhaps how your faith informs your views on social justice or compassion, can be powerful. Do so gently, focusing on shared values and human experience. (As my own LGBTQIA+ activism has shown, personal stories can sometimes reach hearts when facts alone cannot.)
Challenge Ideas Gently, Focus on Impact: If you do discuss contentious issues, focus on the impact of policies or actions, guided by principles of justice and love for neighbor. Instead of judgment (“How could you believe that?”), try inquiry (“Have you considered how that policy might affect the ‘least of these’ Jesus spoke of?”). Avoid personal attacks, striving to “live at peace with everyone,” as far as it depends on you (Romans 12:18).
Pray and Be Patient: Deeply held beliefs rarely change overnight. Pray for wisdom, for patience, and for the hearts of those you engage with. Aim for relationship and faithful witness, not necessarily immediate conversion or political agreement. Building bridges is slow, often unseen work, like planting seeds (1 Corinthians 3:6-7).

Moving Forward in Faith

There are no easy answers to the divisions we face. But defaulting to dismissal, demonization or caricature of those we disagree with deepens the trenches and falls short of our Christian calling. By making an effort to understand the anxieties, fears, and desires that might fuel different political choices – particularly the profound human reaction to rapid, destabilizing change – we equip ourselves with the compassion needed to connect. It requires us to actively choose love over judgment, peace over conflict, and humility over certainty. It’s difficult, often thankless work, demanding patience and prayer. But perhaps it’s the very work Jesus calls us to: reflecting His love in a fractured world, one conversation, one relationship at a time.

Divinity in Daily Life: Busy Times as Spiritual Practice

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

To get better at something we consider challenging, we have to practice. You know what’s hard for me in spiritual direction? Exploring with a client ways to deepen in relationship with God when they are truly and unavoidably busy. Spiritual directors are not “fixers,” yet I’m always tempted to suggest ways to squeeze more time out of a packed person’s day. Never, ever have my suggestions on this when I gave them worked. I’m especially cautious about doing this to caregivers of people who are ill, elderly, disabled or who have young children in their lives.

As I was reading Mirabai Starr’s amazing book, Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, I came across her beautiful reflection on this. She tells the story of her friend Asha, mother to four girls, who came to the conclusion that “unless she focused on parenting as a spiritual practice, she would have no spiritual life.” (p 122) Overworked people could substitute any number of responsibilities for the word “parenting” in that statement.

That’s the reality! If we say that all of life is spiritual, then the practice of daily life is a good part of our spiritual practice. For caregivers, the act of giving unconditional love to your loved one has to connect you to God. It just has to! Especially since those of us who are Christians constantly refer to God as Comforter, Restorer, Father and Mother.

What part of your life do you need to begin to see and experience as spiritual practice? Is it cooking a healthy meal? Taking an afternoon walk? Sharing tea with a friend? Or maybe even staring at the wall when you are too tired to do anything but.

I have always loved how spiritual director and storyteller Mark Yaconelli looks at it. He is fond of asking people what daily activities really get them excited? Then when they name it, he says, “go and do that.” Do it with all the exuberance and life you have.

I’m convinced that’s the kind of practice that makes the Divine One happy.

Not Again…What Do We Do Now?

by Kay Klinkenborg, Church of the Palms UCC

Disappointed, angry, frustrated, discouraged, maybe even despair. Here we are again with COVID cases rising. We set our hopes and dreams on a different outcome and projected what our future for 2021 would hold. But maybe, just maybe that is what creates our pain, of not accepting ‘reality’ as it is. We had no guarantees, no promises, some stated hopes from the professional scientists. But we are in uncharted waters headed to a new land in which we haven’t lived before. And we’re most certainly grieving that it hasn’t played out as we hoped.

Where does faith and hope fit in this current ‘reality’? Right smack dab in the middle of it! For if we allow ourselves to be projecting out front of ourselves as to what will be, we set up unrealistic expectations. Faith is dealing with realistic realities, so we must practice realistic expectations for the months, possibly years ahead.

Our world prides itself that there are advanced countries with vast resources. But a fact of nature, Coronavirus, COVID has brought us to our knees. As has the ‘Red Alert of Climate Change’ announced this week by the UN report of climatic changes and predictions for the future. But that is not the only pandemic happening in our world. Disastrous weather events, fires, massive floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, famine, wars, racism, Afghanistan crisis, the rise of nationalism and white extremist groups in America and abroad. Are we overwhelmed, YES and if we aren’t, we are numb or disconnected from reality.

So, what are the realistic expectations on which we need to focus? I offer no panacea of actions, but I do offer life lessons that have brought me through tough times and documented by numerous others in memoirs and professional literature.

First: we are not alone. Numerous scripture reminders of this truth comfort us. Isaiah 43: 5 states: “Fear not for I am with you…” “FEAR NOT” is in the Bible 365 times. Isn’t it intriguing to think that thousands of years ago people were leaning on those same words just as we need them today? And there is the profound gift of the Presence of the Divine in each of us, so we are here for each other.

Second: we don’t have to have all the answers. Living with ‘unknowing’ is hard and stressful. But it is also a learned art in our spiritual journey. Life doesn’t come with guarantees. And if we are learning that for the first time…we must own our naivete. We each come learning how to cope in new ways; how to be friends and present for each other. We come learning that ‘ambiguity’, not knowing can be a personal place of growth in our faith journey. In the book, The Wisdom of Not Knowing: Discovering A Life of Wonder by Embracing Uncertainty, Dr Estelle Frankel reminds us that “spiritual evolution doesn’t take place through inquiry…but meditating with complex questions.” Sit with our questions…don’t be afraid of questions.

Third: we can do this one hard thing! Travel this journey, live with the unknown outcomes. Take one day at a time. Believe in ourselves and the strength of God that underpins the core of who we are and lives within us. We have all done hard things before we didn’t think we could do or find our way through. But we did. We are resilient! We can remain resilient. And tapping into our ingenuity and creativity and sharing that with one another is a miracle gift in time of struggle. We can be a balm to others; we can allow others to be balm to us.

Fourth: we need to ask for what we need. People can’t read our minds. If we need a phone call or a visit with a safe vaccinated person and share a cup of tea, we need to speak up. It is not a time to be shy. Yes, some of us with underlying medical conditions must limit the size of groups in which we can participate; but we can still practice safe health measures. And don’t forget our technology…phones and internet for some.

Fifth: claim and practice our creativity that each of us can embody. Erich Fromm, in Man for Himself states: “Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.” We have an opportunity to engage with the ‘extraordinary in the ordinary’ of our daily lives. From the dishes we wash, the smell of clean laundry, the food we prepare. Very mundane tasks we think; but Celtic spirituality teaches us these are the moments where the sacred insights and ‘ahh’ can pop open and bring delightful surprise. Creativity is like art…it is merely anything you do or produce or participate in that expresses who you are. You don’t have to be a formal artist, it isn’t with paint, brush, or graphic pencils…but it can be. One such experience was in a women’s group I led in Missouri; we had a share-our creativity-day. Women brought home canned goods from their gardens; a term paper written for a college class; a pie they baked for a sick friend. Crochet, knitting, quilt pieces, favorite recipes copied off to share. A letter of encouragement to their children. And the list went on. Creativity expressing who they were and how they saw themselves in the moment.

“In Jewish Kabbalah tradition, creativity is also linked with the divine realm. All forms of creative expression is linked with divine nothingness, ayin. According to Kabbalah, all wisdom, understanding, and knowledge flow from ayin. Oft quoted is Job: 28:12: ‘Wisdom emerges from nothingness [ayin}.’ “ Estelle Frankel, The Wisdom of Not Knowing; p 124.

What we fear about being stymied, bored, and restricted once again is we are about ‘nothing’; not able to do what we hoped for…again what are the realistic expectations?

Sixth: take a serious look at the skills you brought forth at other times of struggles. Lean back into what worked before. Maybe it was prayer, quiet time alone, talk with a trusted friend, reading spiritual literature or the Bible. Take a virtual walk with your computer in this time of heat waves…look up beautiful scenes and use your imagination to be in that place absorbing that beauty. Grab a favorite book or picture album off your shelf. It can change a gloomy day into one of joy. We all underestimate the skills we have used to survive in hard times. I found that consistently with my clients and spiritual directees. When I helped them begin to list ‘how did you do that?” they are astounded at the skills they brought forth to make things work. We function so unconsciously many times, we don’t claim all that has taken place that reveals quite a remarkable coping individual.

Seventh: it is not an abnormal reaction to these times to need to seek out professional help; even for a few sessions to talk with someone neutral. We are our own worst enemies in judging our coping skills as lacking. Seek out a Spiritual Companion/Director or Counselor. Don ‘t expect that any of us needs to go this alone. It is a highly tense unexpected set of world circumstances; none of us has the map. But we can journey together, and support can make all the difference.

Eighth: don’t be afraid of reality. Look this square in the face. This won’t change tomorrow or the next day. We must have realistic expectations…the hoped for, dreamed about end to this is not visible. We must live in reality to be healthy and take adequate care of our bodies, minds, and souls. Living out into the future is wasted energy; now I am not saying we don’t make plans…but let us learn to make plans to will require us to be fluid and flexible in these times. Learning to ‘be in the moment like never before’ can become a mantra, a sustenance, a relief.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, ordained minister and public inspirational speaker wrote on her monthly e-letter a week ago:

“Because actual reality is also the only place where actual joy is to be found. If joy is delayed until a preferred future comes about, we set ourselves up for despair. But if there is hope in THIS day. Joy in THIS reality. This life. This body. This heart, then certainly we can prevail.

We can. We will. We are.

Be gentle with yourselves right now.” Nadia Bolz-Weber

I have no doubt we can continue on this hard journey, find our way, find joy where we least expect it, and experience a deeper faith and understanding of the Divine within us and others. We can do this one hard thing: look reality in the face, practice our faith, and be honest about our struggles on this unexpected tumultuous journey.

© Kay F. Klinkenborg, MA August 2021
Spiritual Director/Counselor
Retired RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT
(Assoc. for Marriage & Family Therapists)
Member Church of the Palm, Sun City, AZ

S-h-h-h

by Karen MacDonald

So much sound and fury….

Harvey,

Irma,

Jose,

Katia,

Maria.

Earthquakes.
Nuclear saber-rattling.
Refugee migrations and suffering around the world….and so much more….

How to respond, what to do?
Be quiet, pay attention to spirit.

Fast from the whirlwind of words and images around and within.
Step away from the demands of schedules and tasks.
Withdraw from the anxiety of so much to resist and to assist.

Be pilgrims on a journey to purify our hearts, rather than to speak our piece. (1)
Tend the fire of the Spirit in us, so that we have warmth to offer those in need. (2)
Be in solitude
be still
be.

Only then, speak
with the power of “a word that comes out of silence.” (3)

Only then, act
with the strength of a deed that comes out for serving.
Then will beauty and life shine in and through us.

S-h-h-h….

not in a great and mighty wind,
not in an earthquake,
not in a wildfire—
rather, in a “soft, murmuring sound” (4)
did Elijah meet G-d.

“Another world is not only possible, she’s on her way. Maybe many of us won’t be here to greet her, but on a quiet day, if I listen very carefully, I can hear her breathing.” (5)

(1) based on Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Way of the Heart
(2) Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Way of the Heart
(3) Ibid.
(4) I Kings 19:12, The Jewish Study Bible
(5) Arundhati Roy, “Come September”, in The Impossible Will Take a Little While (Paul Rogat Loeb, editor)

The “Music” of Our Whole Lives ~ some reflections after the OWL All-Levels Training of Trainers

by Karen Richter

I was really excited to be able to attend the Our Whole Lives Training of Trainers last week in Hawaii. While the Southwest Conference has several churches who offer Our Whole Lives programming, we didn’t have an approved local trainer. I’m especially grateful to the OWL staff person at the national setting, Amy Johnson, Commissioned Minister for Sexuality Education and to the Unitarian Universalist Association who made this training happen and provided a wonderful experience for 22 trainers-in-training.

One really wonderful discussion during the training was about the “music” of the OWL curriculum. This is a rich metaphor, acknowledging that a person who participates in an Our Whole Lives program at any level might not remember any specific information they learned. As time passes, the content (anatomy, active listening checklist, contraception failure rates…) may simply slip away. In this metaphor, the participant might forget the “lyrics” they previously knew… but it’s our hope that they remember the tune.

What’s the TUNE of Our Whole Lives? What is the spirit or culture or tone of the program that becomes the music children, teens, adults, and facilitators come away from OWL humming under their breath?

It’s VALUES. All of Our Whole Lives curricula is grounded in specific values. For elementary programming, these are Respect, Relationships, and Responsibility. For high school and adult programming, the values are Self-Worth, Sexual Health, Responsibility, and Justice & Inclusivity. Every workshop, every resource, every activity reflects and reinforces these values. Being absolutely clear about the centrality of these values makes Our Whole Lives a gift to families and communities. Building a shared language of values makes awkward (or sometimes just plain funny) conversations a little easier.

It’s a CELEBRATION OF LIVED EXPERIENCE. Besides the values, Our Whole Lives is based on some assumptions, including the natural goodness of our sexual feelings, identities, and behaviors… while acknowledging the real damage done to sexuality by violence and exploitation. All persons are sexual, and exploring this everyday commonality is a formative experience at any age.

It’s a recognition of the CONNECTIONS BETWEEN SEXUALITY AND SPIRITUALITY. Can you think of words that describe healthy sexuality? Can those same words also describe healthy spirituality? The Sexuality and Our Faith resources helps facilitators and participants deepen those connections and develop a sense of gratitude for the gift of sexuality from a loving Creator.

There’s a significant weight of responsibility on OWL facilitators – keeping all these pieces of “music” in your head, being engaging and approachable, planning and executing 90 minutes of instruction and activities. If your congregation has Our Whole Lives programming, hug these wonderful people. They are engaged in life giving, life saving ministry.

If your congregation doesn’t currently offer Our Whole Lives, let’s talk!

You Are Wrong

by Amanda Petersen

I have been noticing a lot of pain recently around being right. Contemplating this I am reminded of an idea that I was introduced to a while back: I am wrong…a lot. I thought the moon was made of cheese when I was 3; I was wrong. I thought the Berlin Wall would be up forever; I was wrong. I believed I was to be a professor of Old Testament studies; I was wrong. And there are some things I believe to my core today that I will look back on and say, yep, I was wrong. Something amazing happens when I allow myself to be wrong. My life loosens up. I have to lean into God more. I’m willing to risk because the goal is no longer about getting it right. Instead, it’s about being willing to be open to the next thing. Being wrong is no longer a failure, it is an opportunity.

Letting go of certainty is uncomfortable, scary, and painful. Being wrong is also very painful and yet, when I practice uncertainty and am willing to be wrong, I find the Divine shows up, relationships are healed, new opportunities appear, and life gets bigger. I have heard the struggle of many “How could I have missed this?” Or “how could I have been so wrong?” And there can be a stuck-ness in this because of the assumption that being wrong is a personal failing, as opposed to asking the questions to work toward growth and self-examination.

I’m not saying one should throw certainty out the window. No one would be able to function without some certainties. It’s more a practice of holding certainty lightly. I find this practice leads to gratitude. I know the sun rises every morning and as certain as I am, I also know that I could be wrong, which makes me grateful it does!

This week, reflect on how much room is there for God to move while practicing getting comfortable with all the wrongness in life. Or practicing calling Mystery into those places of your ‘rightness’ and see what you notice.

Want to talk about it? Come to Dinner and Conversation on Friday.

Skateboarding As Prayer, Meditation

by Greg Gonzales

My skateboard started to wobble, the axles twitching right and left on a whim all their own. I was still rolling forward at speed downhill, but the board got so squirrely I had to jump off and land in a run to catch my fall — and failed, miserably. As my right foot hit the ground, the force and speed shot the foot backward and sent my shoe flying off behind me. Then I tried to catch myself with my left foot, with identical results. I managed to plant my feet two more times, sock-bare, in a half-second period before I fell to my hands and knees, sliding five or so feet across the asphalt. At least, the locations and lengths of dangling flesh would have suggested so.

Because of experiences like that, skateboarding has become my favorite way to pray, to learn and connect. As a pantheist, I believe God and the universe are one in the same, and that by being alive in the universe, we’re part of God, experiencing itself, suffering and pain included. So my prayer is one of participation, of celebration as a participant of the divine whole. Plus, skateboarding comes with a lot of harsh-learned lessons I won’t soon forget.

Zen Master Dogen pointed out in his metaphysics that all things are Buddha-nature, or impermanent. The living and inanimate are all expressions of this nature, one of impermanence and change. Mountains and bodies of water transform over time, eroding and flooding and widening or shrinking with the earth and weather. The wood shavings and dust that grind off the tail of my board when I pop it, and it drags briefly across grains of rough concrete, are a testament to Buddha-nature in my daily life. Though it retains a familiar feel under my feet, my skateboard is never the same from one second to the next. The scars and scabs on my body speak the same truth. All things change, and my skateboard reminds me I can’t escape that. We have to let go.

Part of skateboarding is letting go and pushing forward through chaos. Falling hurts like hell, but no one masters 4-foot airs and McTwists their first try. A single trick might take six hours to land the first time, or several sessions of six hours over the course of several months. To get a new trick, I have to figure out each individual mechanic, each moving part, and put them together in physical harmony, while working through exhaustion, frustration, bruises, and soreness. At the same time, I have to learn how to fall efficiently so I can get up faster and hurt myself less. I let go of my safety and of my usual conscious mind to focus on a single moment, and that’s where the prayer is.

A skateboard trick and a Buddhist meditation have more in common than someone might think, certainly in terms of focus. Walking meditation in Buddhism is a meditation of action, one in which the method involves observing the world directly, in the midst of bustling daily life. The meditator feels how the foot gives in to the shape of a stone below it, the motion of the leg as it swings, how the arch of the foot grips the stone from heel to toe, and how the bones and tendons move together to transfer weight to propel the body forward. The meditator becomes aware of each movement, each tendon pull, how each moment gives in to the next without skipping a beat. Now imagine the mechanics of an ollie: The skater is crouched, body curled up like a spring, waiting to release its energy; one foot has toes pressed on the edge of the tail, and the other foot sits near the middle of the board, weight also on the toes. Once the trick begins, the skater transfers force from the hip, through tendons in the thigh to those in the calf and ankle, then the foot and toes — at the same time lifting the opposite foot up, to push the tail into the ground and pop the nose of the board into the air. The raised foot then slides across the griptape on top of the board to meet the nose, while the leg of the lower foot is brought upward; as the front foot meets the nose and the back foot jumps from the ground, the entire board is brought to level in mid-air, along with the skater’s body. This simple jump-see-saw motion gives me a chance to watch myself fly, to break mental boundaries, to observe my body in alien motion, to connect with the physical beyond basic experience. Both the walking meditation and ollie tell us about the infinite complexity contained in each and every moment, so long as we pay attention, and this paragraph hardly touches the long list of details to notice.

Skateboarding turns pure-function and visual environments into artistic ones by repurposing objects. Where most people see a curb painted red and thinks not to park there, a skateboarder sees a red curb and thinks about the slickness of that particular paint, and how easy it is to grind across it. Some people might see a tree trunk that’s split and grown into separate trunks, forking off, and give it a quick half-thought before their knowledge of the tree fades. Skateboarders see that tree, and then wonder if they can jump between the trunks; they check to see if there’s enough room behind the tree to get speed, enough space to land on the other side, and if there’s a good angle nearby for a filmer to capture the trick. In skateboarding, a “nice-looking” corporate plaza or a wash behind Fry’s becomes a place to jump, stomp, flip, scoop, and generally dance — on ledges, rails, steps and stairs, embankments, hubbas, gaps, planters… skateboarding adds to these dead objects a layer of life, a second layer of meaning and possibility in mundane, cold, boring places.

The latest discoveries in quantum theory suggest particles behave differently when we observe them. If that’s true, then each and every particle within every object interacts with us on fundamental levels. Even though I’m not quite sure what that entails, exactly — I’m no physicist — it seems to make for good evidence that all things are inextricably connected. As we interact with our environment, our environment interacts with us, and we get to participate as individual parts of it.

With that in mind, we could say just about any activity can be prayer, so long as it’s an intentional attempt to communicate with a divine realm or power or being or presence — our prayer just depends on what or who or where we think the divine is. If it’s right in front of us, then interacting with our immediate world in any way could be effective. Skateboarding is my way, or my dance, to celebrate that interaction. Some people bow their heads and utter a thank you, some chant, some offer animal sacrifice. I skate.

Love and Politics

by Amanda Petersen

Love has many different definitions and ways of looking at it. As I look at some of these definitions of love one consistent appears. Love is about expanding. Expanding compassion, expanding perspective, expanding One’s heart, expanding circumstances, expanding vulnerability, expanding risk, expanding complication etc. etc. In order to love there is some invitation to expand.

It is taking a world possibly built on safety, security, and knowing, and being thrown into the unpredictable, vulnerable, and stretching space. This is the case whether one loves themselves, a puppy, partner, God, or a total stranger. And this may be the challenge of why so many would rather not love. Love is messy and it takes the person into uncharted territory. How can one do something they don’t even understand or know about?

The conversation of love comes up a lot at Pathways of Grace. The most consistent way it is brought up is in regards to the current political climate. Some wonderful hard questions are coming up. “How do I stand up for what I feel is important and right without making those who disagree ‘the Other’?” In other words “How do I love?” It also comes out in others ways. “How do I stay with my faith community and stay consistent with where I believe God is taking me?” “How do I take care of myself when it will disappoint those around me?” “How do I get started with a relationship with the Divine?” All of those questions hold a piece of “How do I Love?”

As a spiritual director, I have no answer for the questions other than keep showing up and lets listen to your inner wisdom together. The energy of love I have observed isn’t in the answers but in the willingness to expand into the unknown of Love. Somewhere in the willingness to show up to love, God’s love mixes in and does something amazing and beyond whatever the individual could dream up. The Universe’s love mixes with the desire to love and something beautiful comes out. Love may not be about answers but the willingness to explore.

Right now I am seeing the need to come together and wrestle with the messiness of love. To be open and allow the something bigger of God to mix in and open our hearts to expand in ways we never imagined. A place of unpredictability, vulnerability, stretching and Divine Love. If you are looking for ways to expand in love this week try coming to Dinner and Conversation on Friday or Quiet Places with Sandy Kenger on Sunday. If you are looking to have a place for someone to hold space as you show up to Love we have amazing spiritual directors and other practitioners. Pathways of Grace is committed to providing a safe place to practice and explore what it means to be a loving presence in the world.

This week look at your own “Love” life. Spend time showing appreciation for those who gave you the space to learn to love and expand. Take the time to connect with the Source of All Love with a heart of gratitude that the expansion of Love is endless.

Please share your thoughts on how you love.

Okay, but why?

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

I remember my 13-year-old self sitting on the altar of a small Southern Baptist church. The altar was brown, carpeted steps. A woman who had shown me incredible kindness sat with me. She was holding my hand. I was wracked with sadness and sobs. She listened to me as I told her about the divorces, the turmoil in my family, the fear that I was not normal (that meant queer, but I didn’t yet have the words for that). She listened. She leaned in. She cared.

After I shared, she opened her Bible and I remember her taking me through “The Roman Road”. I spent most of the time listening for Roman to show up in the story line. The Roman character never made an appearance.

The Roman Road is a fundamentalist evangelical tool often used in explaining the “Plan of Salvation”. I would come to know that well later, but for that moment, I didn’t understand any of it.

This is pretty much how the many conversations would go:

Nice lady (NL): When Eve took that apple and decided to eat from the tree, sin entered the world. We needed a path back to God and we get that through Jesus.

Perplexed 13 y/o Davin (PD): Well, why did God make that tree then?

NL: God wanted us to choose Him. When we don’t we invite sin into our lives and we need salvation.

PD: I don’t get it. If I poisoned candy and put it in a kid’s room, wouldn’t that mean I poisoned the kid if the kid ate it?

NL: blinking with a minorly irritated look.

Our session ended for that day. Two weeks later the nice lady tried again. Same place, ready to dig in, Bible between us.

NL: Okay so please remember that we chose sin.

PD: Yeah, but God kinda made that happen, right? Why did he put that tree there?

NL: Because God wanted us to choose Him.

PD: What? Why?

NL: Because he loves us and wants us to love him.

PD: Then why didn’t he leave out the tree that would ruin everything?

Our session ended again.

We met more and I had many questions:
Why did God make Lucifer if He knew that he would turn into Satan?
Who was Cain afraid of? Wasn’t it just him, Abel, Eve and Adam in the world? Who was Cain afraid would harm him when he was cast out of the garden?
If God made us and the tree of good and evil, isn’t that kinda passive aggressive?
She sighed a lot in those visits.

I was a teenager who just discovered faith community.
I liked the church a lot.
I liked the people.
I liked the adults who worked in the youth group.
I kept coming back and the nice lady kept trying to help me understand why I needed salvation in the form of repentance.

After many sessions with her, I was willing to admit I was a sinner, admit Jesus died for my sins, profess my belief in Christ, invite Jesus into my heart and promise to walk a path of faith, sharing the Good News. This is called a few things in literal, evangelical Christianity: being born again, getting saved, turning my life over to Jesus. Once I was in, I was in. The questions went away and I was determined to be the next Billy Graham.

Much of my theology in those days was slathered with fear and shame. I passed that on to those who took time to listen to my conversion messages. I was going to make sure Heaven was full and Hell was empty.

I was zealous and I was persistent. I was also very scared, brokenhearted, shame-filled and sad. The church kept me busy so my heart didn’t feel so very alone.

I was always angry back then. If you had to find me in a crowd, you could simply look for the kid with arms crossed over their chest, glowering, glaring, guarded and grrrrrr…

All the while I pushed people away, I was super offended when they did not talk to me. Hurt people often long for what they desperately try to convince others they don’t need.

I was creating an emotional wall; I was a teenage emotional construction worker with endless mortar and bricks: Sob the Builder.

There’s reasons for that wall. There’s reasons for everything we think, feel and do. Behavior is to meet a need, or at least a perception of a need. We spend so much time judging actions we rarely think about what is behind those actions. We rarely are compassionate with ourselves.

Everyone’s behavior makes sense to them at the time or else they wouldn’t do it. My fortress was built for a reason. It kept the bad out, but then it started keeping EVERYTHING out.

If I ever write a memoir I will call it “Well, that didn’t work.” And we still try again.

It’s comfortable to think in black and white because there is certainty there. It’s super hard when you let in the colorful world of all sorts of living and needing. It changes everything.

The option of truly being present with someone and learning who they are without an agenda to change them is the only way we get to have honest relationship. I didn’t get that concept for much of my life. I wanted the world to bend, not for me to bend. That’s how brokenness happens, in the not bending and the demanding it be different.

2016 has been awful for me and many I love. It has been the worst year of my life for sure. It also has been a very rich year. I have felt loved more often than not. I have given love more freely than I have in any other year. And 2016 was still the worst ever for me.

I am not someone who believes life’s trials are there to make you a better person. I don’t believe it is orchestrated in that way. I do believe, though, in every situation that sorrow exists, we can see aspects of living we never would have noticed without the sorrow. I don’t believe sorrow exists as a life lesson. I think it’s just part of life and what we choose to do with it determines a lot.

It’s been almost a year since I was harmed through sexual assault and there have been oh so many layers of pain my family and I have walked through. It has been horrendous and it has been illuminating. It has been heartbreaking and it has been healing. For me, what makes it or breaks it is my willingness to engage life in hard times vs run, run, run!

Engaging in life requires some courage when everything within wants to retreat. When that’s my reality I take the absolute smallest inching forward I can muster to just stay in the world, stay in my life. I have to get open, drop the mortar and brick, and choose to live in the elements, responding to life and love as it comes and as I co-create it. Dear ones, we are creating our inner world as we participate in life. I want my inner world to be a sanctuary and refuge.

The idea of refuge reminds me of my younger brother who tells a story that when he was about 19 years old or so, his AC busted and he had to have more windows and doors open at night to keep cool. He did this regularly in the apartment he lived in so he had adjusted and slept well most of the time.

One morning he gradually woke from sleep with the cat on his belly. He petted her, she purred and nuzzles. Then the slow dawning: “I don’t have a cat.” Yup. A random cat decided to sleep on my brother’s belly.

I love picturing this story playing out. It’s awesome, funny, and it highlights my gentle brother who awakes with welcome.

What I really love most, though, is the cat. The cat went all rogue and decided this house was as good as any and my brother’s warm belly was just the stuff this felonious cat needed to get a good rest.

What’s hurting within you? What’s preventing you from welcoming warmth and companionship into the core of who you are? What is this fortress you are building? What is keeping you from the wander and the wonder that may lead to new relationship? What is the smallest inching forward you can muster today to answer the pain with hopeful forward momentum?

Whatever it is, I promise you this: the pain you feel in that place is made worse with isolation and vigilance. Peace to your precious, scared heart and peace to your amazing, enduring spirit.

We all have the “why” questions. Keep that up! The questions are beautiful and welcomed. The altar is within you as you seek your heart out.

Knowing this and living this is my road to salvation.

A Life of Response

by Amanda Petersen

I recently saw a brief video about a woman who, through a set of movements, opened a theater for dance in the middle of a desert town of less than 100 people. Often no one would come, so she would just dance in the empty theater. Eventually she painted in an audience and the place is beautiful. (the video is at the end of this blog). As I watched I felt a kinship with this woman. Her life was one of a response to Life.

As I get ready to celebrate 10 years of Pathways of Grace, the celebration is more of a gratitude for a life of response to God. When I began, I literally sold much of what I had, including my car, and downsized to a life that would hopefully be supported by this sense of creating a safe place for people to listen and share deeply to their own responding to the Divine. At that time, I called this Creative Journey 3. Many of you remember calling my cozy home the “hermitage of heretics”: a place you could voice your ideas, doubts, and responses to Infinite Mystery in ways you couldn’t elsewhere.

As the years have passed, the groups and my spiritual direction/coaching practice has grown and we have this beautiful space. The fun part is that others who are responding to God are showing up and sharing their dances. I can’t tell you what a joy it is to dance with others and watch the new energy of the Spirit create something that none of us fully knows how it will end up. This celebration is a time to highlight some of the new people sharing their gifts. I look forward to your meeting them!

With this Energy comes new and deeper releasing into the movement of Infinite Mystery. As I watch this unfold, I realize Pathways of Grace, rather than “building” something, is a about responding to Love. What is created out of that is co-created rather than master-planned. This celebration, we will be sharing some of the new movements that we will be practicing.

Through the years there are times when the group doesn’t materialize, yet I dance anyway. The audience becomes the great cloud of witnesses and the Presence of Love. I will continue to dance as a response of gratitude for the gift of creating a space to dance authentically. Thank you all for joining me on this amazing journey. Ultimately, this celebration is a time of gratitude for each of you being willing to respond to Love’s call to dance.

Here is the video: