September From the Minister

We’re living in a time of terse declaratives: tense and anxious tweets quivering with rage, itching for a fight; over-eager, shiny candidates full of answers, primed and ready for their timed debates; a president who knows exactly how many well-placed, hate-laced words, and precisely how few, can set ablaze the white supremacist violence smoldering always and everywhere, just beneath the surface. It’s exhausting and depressing and demeaning to live and work and go to school amidst the constant shouting; it’s strange and sad to catch yourself tempted to shout back, increasingly afraid that if you fail to plant your feet and stand your ground on this issue or that topic or any principle or value that you cherish, it could easily be trampled. We’re made haggard by the pressure to be loud and to be right.

But as our children have reminded us this summer, this is a church of the open mind…this is a church of the loving heart…this is a church of helping hands and wild imagination, where curiosity and wonder are as sacred as certainty; where love is the spirit and generous service is the rule; where doubt is a brave thing, not a weakness; where openness to someone else’s truth and life and struggle and sorrow is the best way in to wisdom; where what if? and why? and how come? and how is it with your spirit? are the prayers that best restore our souls, more than any declarations.

adrienne marie brown is right: we can only be a force together, we can only be together with trust, we can only trust if we are authentic with each other—and we can only be authentic if we can admit we don’t know our way out of this.

We dedicate children here with water and a rose, and say our minds and hearts, are open, like the bud, to every possibility. It takes work to stay that way—open, unclenched, curious —and this is the work that we’ve come here to do.

Welcome.
Welcome home.
Welcome back.

– Victoria