Dearly Beloved,
What a week we've had! I know that my heart is still swirling with emotion. Many of us gathered with family or friends to watch a relatively boring Super Bowl that had a half-time show that felt like a powerful statement about the rich diversity of our country. In addition to all the things happening in our world, our country, our individual lives (and I am aware of some heavy things y'all are navigating), we are also holding the transition of this moment as a congregation with news of my departure.
I was struck by Cameron Trimble's recent post on grief (if you are looking for a source of wisdom, thoughtful reflections on faith and society, honesty and hope in this moment, Trimble provides those almost daily). This email mainly explores grief, how that moves in our bodies and how we might think about living with grief. I think it's also important to note that grief and hope live together, just as endings and beginnings live together. They are not separate but part of the same fabric of life and growth. While I am taking time to address grief here, please also hear that tending grief is like clearing out the old, like pruning in a garden -- it makes room for the new. It gives shape and space for what is to come, what will bloom, and fruit. With that said, let us turn to the work of holding grief that we may make room for hope.
Trimble writes:
"Lately, nearly every conversation I have carries the same undertone [of grief].... We grieve the accelerating harm to the planet. We grieve how power is being used to wound rather than protect. We grieve the widening gulf between those who have more than they need and those who cannot catch a break. And we grieve even as we keep showing up, bearing witness, tending what we can, trying to love honestly in a world that feels increasingly unstable.
"This grief is not a sign that something is wrong with us. It is a sign that we are paying attention.
"Grief is not a problem to be solved. It is a process to be metabolized, to be integrated into the body of our awareness and action without letting it paralyze us or take us hostage."*
Trimble invites us to think about a few very local and practical questions: "What in my immediate sphere can be nourished by this grief? What in relationship needs tending? What small, truthful practice needs protection?" And she also reminds us that grief must not be held alone. We are intended to navigate grief -- and joy! -- together, in community.
As I've been part of conversations around my departure and what is next for this congregation, I've noticed people sharing their grief -- with me and with each other. And I've heard people begin to pull apart the ways in which the particular grief of the ending of our shared ministry feels like it is compounding the larger uncertainties that we face in our wider world. These are important things to hold together. They are important things to metabolize, to integrate, to learn from.
I've also noticed people naming the ways in which our congregation, the life of our community, is so much bigger than me and even the ministry that we've shared together. I've heard people talking about how they've experienced the Holy Spirit at work in them through this community. I've heard people share hopes and make commitments to tend the health and vitality of the congregation -- thinking about the mission trip our youth will go on this summer, committing to strengthening our Sunday School program, continuing to plan the church retreat that will happen the very first weekend after my departure.
I wonder what in your immediate sphere can be nourished by your grief? Perhaps it is a slowing down, a deepening, a new connection, a reconnection, an invitation to practice prayer more regularly or something else.
What in relationship needs tending? Perhaps that's in your relationship to God, to yourself, to a family member, to a friend, or to this church community.
What small, truthful practice needs protection? Perhaps it involves rest or movement. Perhaps it is about how you nourish yourself physically, spiritually, socially or emotionally. Perhaps it is about how you connect or save in the wider community. Perhaps it is about how your pray and connect with the divine. Or perhaps it is about something completely different -- creating art, tending a garden, playing music, practicing a sport, showing up in your home.
On that note about grief, please be on the lookout for additional information about a grief group being offered this winter. Whether you are grieving uncertainty in our world, changes in your own life or our community, the loss of a relationship or loved one (human or creature), shifts in health or financial hardship or anything else, you are welcome. If the time doesn't work for you, please express your interest to Daniel Gardner or Karen Jazowski. The Faith Formation Board is committed to providing opportunities like this for those who need and want them!
It is a gift to walk together.
With love and hope,
Thandiwe
*https://www.pilotingfaith.org/p/thoughts-on-grief
