Last Sunday, our house bulged and sighed along with our songs and poems of lament. The floors reverberated with sounds of squealing children and our anticipation of the dawn breaking into the darkness. We sang songs, we prayed prayers, we drank a vat of coffee and pulled out every last chair. We shared stories of peace and reconciliation in our neighborhoods, and our hearts both rejoiced and ached for more.

Yes, Advent is here.

Advent with its bulging and stretching, anticipating.
Yearning and longing, aching and waiting.
Til there simply doesn't seem to be any more room.

We utter a sonnet of pain as we wait for joy's song.
We grope in the darkness as we watch for light's dawn.
We cry out in discomfort as we are pushed to the edges of all we have known.

No room. No margin.

No more carnage of hate, greed, and violence. Our hearts protest. We just can't take it.

No more shackles of fear, shame and falsehood. Our hearts cry out for liberation.

No more.

No more room in the inn. 
No more room in our house.* 
There just isn't enough.
Room in our hearts.
Our lives.
Our calendars.

No room.

Until.

The long-awaited birth.
Until the miracle.
Until a whole new world unfurls.
Until what is impossible suddenly transforms into possibility.
Until a space opens up that is large enough for all of us.
Until a love expands wide enough to hold a world of hurt.
Until a peace descends deep enough to fill up all the cracks.

Until...

​Jesus comes.

Yes, Advent is here.

It is bulging and stretching, anticipating. Yearning and longing, aching and waiting.

Prepare him room.



*As our house bulges, please know that there is always more than enough room for you and we are full of anticipation about what the Spirit is birthing in our midst. We are putting out more chairs this week and hopeful that a community third place will open up to us in the new year.


by Jessica Ketola

This poem was shared by David Drury this last Sunday and speaks to the fact that God and even nature share with us in our laments and longing for reconciliation with the hope that we are moving towards eventual redemption.

Even crummy houses see. Even dead birds perceive. Even hotels -- down to the girders--hear the sound when a heart in the elevator begins to crack. Even dry wells lie heavy. Even sea beds are unmade. Even skyscrapers scrape against it. Even then. Even now. Even as we speak. We do not carry it alone. Even puddles reflect. Even clouds bruise. Even cowgirls get the blues. Even glaciers get heated. Even mastodons in standing caskets bellow. Even the demons believe. Even the forests are burning. Even snowcaps are welling up. Even the rocks cry out. Even the teeth of the venerable oak chatters above a raked mash of fallen leaves. Even the cathedral christ refuses to come down off of the cross, until the solidarity with suffering has ended.

Meanwhile, the universe is racing to expand. It is new at the edges. Somewhere, inside a great cloud of particles, a star is breaking into life with the letters of your name scratched into its plasma core and sunspots to match every bruise. The galaxies are preparing to mobilize. On your behalf, the star is preparing to speak -- a mother's heart with a megaphone standing in the back of an army jeep.


Published in PCC Inscape and shared by our own resident writer and artist David Drury.

Reposting this post from last advent with some updates about how we as a community are participating in the sacred work of peace.

Peace on earth. O, how our hearts long for peace.​

And yet it is almost too hard to hope for. Amidst the oppression and suffering, violence and war, hate and strife, our hearts are weary. The words of O Holy Night echo our longing. “A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” Weary. Yes, we are weary. Tired. In fact, sick and tired. As U2 laments,

Heaven on earth, We need it now
I'm sick of all of this, Hanging around
Sick of sorrow, Sick of pain
Sick of hearing again and again
That there's gonna be Peace on earth
[U2, Peace on Earth]

This profound longing is what Advent is all about. It is about standing in the midst of the darkness and subversively lighting a candle. It is joining in the weary lament of the world and holding space for grief and for suffering. It is also declaring that a new dawn is coming. It is a prophetic act that lives into a reality that is not yet what it will fully be. It is a stubborn hope in the midst of overwhelming despair. The Prince of Peace has come and is bringing healing to the world.

But this peace is not a false peace. The prophet Jeremiah laments, “They offer superficial treatments for my people’s mortal wound. They give assurances of peace when there is no peace.” I think so many of us in the Western white church are guilty of saying, “Peace, peace; when there is no peace, ” [Jeremiah 6:14 KJV] and my heart is grieved.

For I am painfully aware that it is all too easy to gloss over the gaping wounds of our brothers and sisters who face oppression and violence, discrimination and injustice. It is tempting to avoid the anguish of sitting with those who are suffering and to move on quickly to the sparkling images of peace and love and brotherhood. But peacemaking is far from idyllic scenes of comfort and warmth and cheer. In fact, it is often messy, uncomfortable, and daunting.

And yet, Jesus declared, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” [Matthew 5:9] He called us to love our neighbor as ourselves, even to love our enemies. And he subversively broke down all the cultural and social divisions of the day that excluded others because of class, gender, religion, politics and race, declaring that we were all one in Christ.

Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace. Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother; And in His name all oppression shall cease. [O Holy Night]

But what does Peace look like on earth? Here in my neighborhood? Here in the gritty mundane of my everyday life?I do not pretend to know God’s big dream for how peace on earth is to come to my neighborhood in its entirety, but I see some hopeful signs.

~ As we share a meal and conversation around the table with neighbors, strangers and friends every Wednesday night. I am always surprised by who walks in my door and the blessing of receiving the gift of community where all are welcome and everyone is valued. As we gather for a Holiday Neighborhood Party once again and extend the invitation far and wide, we are overjoyed as new connections are made and community is forged across difference. As we find ways to come together, to build friendships and to offer extravagant hospitality, we practice peace in our neighborhood.

~ As Lynn Newcombe, the Director of Turning Point, and sits around the table of the Shoreline Equity, Diversity & Inclusion Task Force, as Kelly Kuest leads her department of ESL into equity work at Edmonds-Woodway High School, as Erika (Em) Gonzalez Jones takes the lead on equity as a family advocate in Syre and Echo Lake Elementary schools, and as Cecelia Romero Likes and I collaborate with Suni Tolton, the Shoreline City's Diversity & Inclusion Coordinator, we are in awe of the inspiring work of passionate leaders to affect change throughout our community, from the schools to the city to local nonprofits. It is an absolute privilege to be a part of this beautiful work of peace.

~ As we take part in the Shoreline Social Justice Book Club, led by Cecelia Romero Likes, sponsored by King County Library and hosted at City Hall, we are absolutely thrilled to participate in peace making in our community. We are reading and discussing books with our neighbors written by people of color and cultivating practices of empathy and listening, learning from different perspectives and worldviews.

~ As we partner with Bethany Community Church North to serve those who are often marginalized in our community, as we offer presence and muffins and coffee on Aurora at the THS Methadone Clinic, I believe we are practicing peace as stigmas dissolve into faces and names, people with hopes and dreams just like us.

~ As we open up our doors every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to offer tutoring and mentoring to at-risk children in the Shoreline School District, we practice peace. As we build friendships and community at Turning Point across culture, race, religion, language and socioeconomic divides, we practice peace. As we share a community meal together and listen to the stories of those who are “other”, we practice peace. And it is one of the richest gifts we receive. ​

~ As so many in our community practice presence and otherliness every day. As teachers, students, parents, professors, artists, chaplains, mental health practitioners and business professionals; as neighbors, colleagues and friends; and as social justice advocates and community organizers, we practice peace as we listen well to the stories of those around us and offer the gift of presence.

~ As we participate in cultural listening events, share dinners with our Muslim friends, show up for community forums around houselessness, join committees for city park planning, get involved with our local neighborhood associations, practice peace-making with our children, care for the environment, do the hard work of healing in our own lives, and show up for protests advocating with those who are suffering, we are learning what it means to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. We are discovering what it means to participate in God's work of renewal in our own lives and in the lives of our neighbors and neighborhoods, moving away from individualism and fragmentation toward solidarity and wholeness. Being reconciled to ourselves, God, and our neighbor.

~ And this Sunday as we light the candle of peace, we will hear from Bill and Julie Clark, who make peace their central vocation in their work with Peace Catalysts, and who bring Christians and Muslims together to make peace in our communities and our world.

So this Advent, we hold the many tensions. We stand in the midst of the darkness, the great upheaval, the injustice and the suffering, and we light a candle and pray, Come, Lord Jesus, come. We practice peace in a hundred and one small ways and yet we long and groan and pray for peace to come in its fullness. We do not gloss over the divisions, the gross injustices and oppressions of our day. Rather we choose to awaken to the groaning in our communities and our neighborhoods and we groan too, allowing our hearts to break and to grieve and to repent. And yet we are not overcome with despair. No, we are people of great hope. For Christ has come. Christ is here. And Christ is coming again. And He is bringing wholeness to everything and everyone and healing all that divides us. And so we can be confident that peace is surely coming here on earth, around our dinner tables, conference calls and playgrounds, so let it begin with us.
​
by Jessica Ketola

Reposting a blog post from last advent here.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.

These beautiful words and their haunting melody translated from the Latin hymn “Veni, Veni Emmanuel” capture the heart of this season. For this Sunday marks the first week of Advent [celebrated this year December 2nd thru Christmas Eve] and the beginning of the Church Year. This is a new day and a new dawn as Nina Simone likes to sing.

The word Advent means "coming" or "arrival". The focus of the entire season is preparation to celebrate the birth of Jesus the Christ in his First Advent, and the anticipation of the return of Christ the King in his Second Advent. Thus, Advent is far more than simply marking a 2,000-year-old event in history with nativity scenes of shepherds, wise men and cows and sheep in a stable. And it is far from the "merry and bright" celebration of the holiday, full of shopping and gift wrapping, pictures with Santa, and holiday parties. We do celebrate, but we celebrate the revelation of God in Christ whereby all of creation might be reconciled to God. The liberation of all creation that is groaning, longing for redemption. A redemption in which we now participate, and the consummation of which we anticipate. We affirm that Christ has come, that He is present in the world today, and that He will come again in power. This is our hope in a world brimming with suffering.

Advent is marked by a spirit of expectation, of anticipation, of preparation, of longing. There is a yearning for deliverance from the evils of the world, first expressed by Israelite slaves in Egypt as they cried out from their bitter oppression. It is the cry of so many today, who are experienced the tyranny of injustice in a world gone mad, and yet who have hope of deliverance by a God who has heard the cries of oppressed slaves and brought deliverance! It is the cry of the immigrant, the refugees at the border, the addict, the poor and the homeless. It is the cry of the Dreamers, victims of sexual misconduct, our Muslim neighbors, and our brown and black brothers and sisters who face injustice, discrimination, persecution, incarceration and violence every day.

It is this hope, however faint at times, that God, however seemingly distant, is here with us, our Emmanuel. It is this hope that while greed and violence and power rule the day, crushing the poor and oppressing the weak, we anticipate a good and wise King who will rule with truth and justice and righteousness over all people and all creation. It is this hope that once anticipated, and now anticipates anew, the reign of an Anointed One, a Messiah, who will bring peace and justice and righteousness to the world. That into the darkness, a light will come. And it will be a light for all people.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 
​
This Advent, I do believe it is a time for our community to enter lament in the hope of liberation. Even as men, women and children seeking asylum wait in desperation at the Mexican border, this Sunday, we will enter Advent with lament, with longing and with hope. We will yearn for liberation from oppression in our lives and in the lives of our neighbors and we will pray for justice to come to our streets. And we will wait with hope and light a candle into the darkness and cry, Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Join us this Sunday for the beginning of the Advent Season!

This week, most of us will sit down at abundant tables and feast with friends and family to celebrate the Thanksgiving Day holiday. And as we gorge ourselves with turkey, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, we will practice gratitude and take time to remember all the gifts in our lives. And hopefully our hearts along with our tables, homes and bellies will be full.

I've always loved Thanksgiving. It was a time when my big family came together to celebrate. And celebrate we did! Aside from the inevitable family drama, we would sing and dance and play games and laugh til our guts hurt. And unlike other holidays that were commercialized to be about shopping or candy baskets (ignore Black Friday), this one day was about being grateful! Yes, I was all in!

Except.

That it propagated the myth. The myth of Thanksgiving. This idyllic picture of Pilgrims and Indians feasting together in a harmonious and mutually beneficial relationship. True, there was some beauty in this first feast they shared. However, we simply cannot stop there without acknowledging the atrocities that came next as white colonizers exterminated millions of indigenous people who had occupied America for a millennia. Nor should we ignore the atrocities that continue as the racism, greed, trauma and structural violence continue today. One of the most prolonged and sustained genocides of a people with the goal of complete and total erasure. All cloaked in this idea of Manifest Destiny and done in the name of Christ. It's enough to make my stomach turn. Maybe no turkey for me this year.

Until.

I read Dr. Randy Woodley's article. Woodley is a man I deeply admire and have learned from, a Keetowah Cherokee, a Christian, and a professor at Portland Seminary in the Master of Arts in Intercultural Studies program. And thanks to Dr. Woodley's gracious and profound wisdom, I was shown a place at the Thanksgiving table once again.

In spite of our ugly history, no...actually, because of these atrocities, I want to suggest that we all continue to celebrate Thanksgiving, but with a caveat.

Settler folks must be educated to realize that Thanksgiving in America didn’t begin with the Pilgrims. For thousands of years many feasts of thanksgiving have been characteristic of all our Indian tribes. This phenomenon continues today. Settler-immigrants should reorient their thinking to view that First Thanksgiving as the first opportunity for them to join millennial old traditions among America’s Indigenous peoples to thank God, who was already present before they arrived, and thank the land upon which they were living. They should view the Plymouth feast as the land welcoming them, and as a result an opportunity to express gratitude to all creation, especially those plants and animals that provided the feast and extended their lives another day. They should see themselves as good guests of the Host Peoples of America and rethink their social posture with more humility.

Eat Humble Pie.

Yes, you heard him. If we are to eat pie this Thanksgiving, let it be humble pie. It's time to discard the myths of colonialism and white supremacy and sit in the discomfort of grief, lament, disorientation and feelings of powerlessness. For isn't this the invitation of Christ in Philippians 2:6-8. You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.

So let us be humble, and let us be grateful. And let us learn from those who host us and honor and care for the land, acknowledging the Creator that sustains our very breath. And yes, let us make room for truth and lament as we educate ourselves concerning the real history of America.

Decolonizing Thanksgiving

Celebrating True Thanksgiving: One Native American View

The Thanksgiving Myth

Thanksgiving Promotes Whitewashed History, So I Organized Truthgiving Instead

"All The Real Indians Died Off": And 20 Other Myths About Native Americans

And may we use this time to encourage reconciliation between our families and those who share a different history. May you celebrate well with your friends and family, and remember to leave plenty of room for gratitude and Jesus-inspired, humble pie.

by Jessica Ketola

Last weekend, we put on our big event of the year, the Turning Point Benefit Gala & Auction! And what an extraordinary night! It it such a powerful thing in our day to come together as neighbors and citizens to create community so that everyone can thrive. For when we all come together, there is always more than enough. And it is such a powerful moment to be a part of something good and hopeful in the world - investing in children and families right here in our local community and getting to benefit from the richness of relationship and diversity!
​
A young woman and tutor, Betelhem shared her story in a video at the event. She had grown up as a bicultural and bilingual young woman who had benefited greatly from the Homework tutoring program (now a Turning Point program). As a graduate of University of Washington in Biomedical Engineering, she is giving back and tutoring in our program. And when asked about what what Turning Point was all about, she replied, "We are here to help support the students' dreams and goals, and to create an environment that fosters the dreams and goals of individuals that have yet to achieve wonders."

Just imagine what might happen if we began to show up in the world to create, to dream with hope and imagination? What if we began to bring our presence, our creativity and gifts to bear? What if we pursued that which we love and offered our passion to the community?

This last Sunday, Carrie Cates continued our conversation around Soul Force as she spoke about the shift from Consuming to Creating. And she spoke about the power of what it means to be generative instead of consumptive. To offer that which we alone can bring to the world. To sing the song we must sing. To create. To dance. To love.

And this is in stark contrast to the gospel of consumption. Here is an excerpt from Soul Force: Seven Pivots to Courage, Community & Change.

In the beginning God consumed. God said, "Let there be stuff to buy, television to watch, garbage to dump." God spent the evenings on the couch eating junk food and binge-watching movies. God consumed the earth's resources with no regard for the consequences for future generations. God worked nonstop to feed an endless need for more. Humankind was made in the image of God to be consumers.

Obviously, the Genesis account is quite different. We know that the nature of God is to create and we as image bearers are meant to create as well. And so how do we show up in the world? For certainly, it matters. Whether it is passive or generative, it is not neutral.
​
And how do we resist the false narratives of our competitive and consumptive world that deter us from doing that which we love. Carrie talked about how the latin root for amateur means lover. We shouldn't hold back because we are not the best or because we are amateur. We should allow ourselves to play and to delight and to create. To do it for the sheer love of it. As Betelhem said well -- How do we create an environment that fosters our dreams and our unrealized wonders?

by Jessica Ketola

If ever there was a time for soul force, it is now.

We are living in the midst of polarized times, political divides and inflammatory discourse, where bridge-building is not only needed but paramount today. This week as we continued our conversation around Reesheda Graham-Washington and Shawn Casselberry's new book, Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community & Change, we talked about moving from building barriers to bridges.

We, as humans, have a gift for erecting walls and building barriers. Sometimes these barriers and boundaries serve us well, keeping us from danger and harm. (Healthy boundaries are good.) And yet when we build barriers from places of unhealthy fear, they can destroy relationships, prevent us from learning and growing and can create huge divides between people.

In times of crisis, the wise build bridges while the foolish build barriers.
-King T'Challa, The Black Panther Film

Jesus was always breaking through barriers and crossing boundaries to build bridges to the "other". Whether it was breaking the Sabbath rules to heal a man disabled and disenfranchised from society; crossing cultural, religious and gender divides to speak to the Samaritan woman at the well; eating with drunks and tax collectors or touching the unclean leper; we can see that the central theme of Jesus' ministry here on earth was the ministry of reconciliation. [2 Corinthians 5:18] And we too, have been given this message of reconciliation as ambassadors of Christ and followers of Jesus.

But what does it really mean to be people of faith in the midst of deep division? Can we stand with the marginalized without marginalizing those who don't agree with our stance? How can we hear our opponents rather than further isolating them? How do we address the barriers that marginalize and dehumanize others?

This week, our challenge is to practice bridge-building right here in our neighborhood. To practice the art of dialogue and listening to understand in our work places. To practice compassion, offering welcome and receiving the hospitality of those we are afraid of in our schools. To practice the gift of coming together in collaboration instead of suspicious competition in our communities .

And so as I attended the listening event for the Uighur people at our local Shoreline Bosnian Mosque this last Sunday, I saw all of these principles in play -- and it was a beautiful thing. Uighur Muslims, Bosnian Muslims, Christians and concerned researchers and activists came together. We listened to the stories of the other, of our Muslim brothers and sisters, who have been persecuted and who are now experiencing untold suffering as over a million of their people have disappeared into concentration camps. [Learn more.] We experienced hospitality as we ate together and shared different cultural dishes. And we could not help but be moved by compassion as we looked into each other's eyes.

One young woman, I'll call her Adina, with the biggest deep, brown eyes and what I learned was heartache worn across her face, told us that her mother had gone missing nine months ago. I can't imagine the horror. Adina is incredibly smart with her Masters in Informatics at the University of Washington. She works downtown Seattle, loves to eat good Asian food and home-cooked meals, and is also a Muslim woman whose people are facing genocide. Compassion brings us together. Her eyes and her story haunt me, compelling me to pray daily for her and her family. This is how we build bridges. We must listen to the stories of those who are different than us.

And we were met with such warm hospitality by the Imam and many of the Muslims at the mosque who welcomed us into their worship space and humbly took the time to share some of their practices with us. One man talked about the centering nature of prayer five times a day -- and that when he was anxious or angry, he would return from prayer refocused and renewed in what was truly important. Another woman shared with me how it reminded her throughout her day to pause, to stop, and to remember God in the busyness of life. I shared that as a pastor, I would be so delighted to have my community praying throughout the day, and how in the Christian tradition, we also have fixed hour prayer. In fact, there has been a resurgence of interest in some of the ancient practices of prayer and spiritual direction in a world that never seems to stop. And so we found common ground in our desire to ground ourselves in love and peace in the chaotic swirl of life - which built a beautiful bridge between us.

So let us not build walls but bridges.

Let us not entrench ourselves in our camps with a growing divide between us and our enemy. Let us do the difficult and yet beautiful work of Jesus, Gandhi, King and many others who are wise enough to cross the divides and live in the tension.

by Jessica Ketola

From Barriers to Bridge Building
Live in tension. Commit to stay at the table and sit in the tension before the conversation begins. 
Live intention. Be thoughtful about how you are existing in yourself, in your relationships, and in your community. 
Ask why. Too often we ask what someone believes without asking why. Be curious. Ask questions. 
Share stories. People may or may not be moved by statistics, but they are almost always moved by story. 
Stay open. Be willing to learn from those you disagree with, and be open to changing your mind. 
Be humble. Having character and humility in how we talk gives greater credence to what we are saying. 
Find common ground. We may not be on the same side of every issue, but we can find commonalities with others. 
Examine institutional systems. Listen to the voices of people who are experiencing the detrimental effects of certain systems.
Taken from Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community and Change by Reedsheda Graham-Washington and Shawn Casselberry. © 2018 Herald Press

​People today are disrupted. No matter what your political, religious, or cultural affiliations are, we share a common experience. We are living in tumultuous times in our country. Divided we now stand. As followers of Jesus, our allegiance is not to a political party but rather to God’s good and loving kingdom, one that prioritizes the poor, that hungers for justice, that works diligently for peace, and that does the right thing even when it is costly (Matthew 5-7).
 
I think many of us these days vacillate between utter despair as we stumble to the coffee pot in the mornings carrying the weight of the world -- and stubborn hope, as more and more we find ourselves in huddles, rubbing shoulders with others who are heart broken too but determined to resist and to rise up in spite of fear. For it is hard not to be overwhelmed by the public discourse and the magnitude of justice issues today - whether it is education, equity and inclusion, immigration, mass incarceration, #metoo movements, gentrification, or climate change.
 
If ever there was a time for soul force, the time is now.
 
This is why I am excited as we begin a new conversation around Reesheda Graham-Washington and Shawn Casselberry’s new book, Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community & Change. Because transformation is what is needed today. Is it not? We want to be a part of a revolution, a reformation, a movement -- which is the kingdom of God -- that is bringing transformation, personally, collectively and societally.
 
What is soul force? 
soul force (noun):

• a spiritual energy, a vital force conceived of as constituting, residing in, or emanating from the soul
• from the Hindi word satyagraha composed of two Sanskrit words: satya, meaning "truth and love," and agraha, meaning "firmness" or "force"
• method of nonviolent resistance inspired by the life of Jesus and developed and practiced by Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King

 
“Soul force is where the Spirit of God and our human resilience meet. The Spirit doesn’t override our will, nor does it bypass our humanity. The Spirit works in concert and collaboration with our ingenuity, gifts and grit. Soul force is a power that emerges when we align with the Spirit of truth, love and liberation. Soul force is an awakening to the realization that we have a creative force within us, because we all bear the divine imprint of the Creator. But so rarely do we tap into this power.”
 
“Soul force is an inner alignment with truth, a fortified internal strength that creates the capacity for courage and change in the face of great adversity. It is a commitment to integrity, truth, love, nonviolence, and community that leads to personal and social transformation. Gandhi and King utilized soul force in their contexts to ignite movements for social change, and we can utilize it for movement in our lives too.” [excerpt from Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community & Change]

“The kingdom of God is within you.” - Luke 17:21 
 
But how do we ignite our soul force within us? This essence of truth and love that shines brightly in the darkness? How do we tap into something extra inside, finding strength and resolve when others cower? How do we move from paralyzing despair to catalytic courage - to act in faith and hope despite our fears.
 
According to Reesheda and Shawn, the first movement or pivot is from fear to freedom. For fear can be an all-encompassing impediment to transformation. Fear cripples us and can keep us from taking risks. Soul force requires courage in the face of fear.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.” - Nelson Mandela, The Long Walk To Freedom

The fears that hold us back are often lies that we have internalized from society, people, and wounds in our lives. Behind every fear is a lie that must be unmasked. And so what are your fears? And what are the lies that you believe?

As we look at what compels some to dig deep and find courage in the most difficult of circumstances, we can see the power of soul force. "For what compels a lowly shepherd boy with a slingshot to go up against a towering giant? What causes a privileged queen to risk her position and possibly her life, to advocate for her people? Or an unassuming Indian religious teacher to challenge the British Empire through nonviolent resistance? Or a Black Baptist preacher from the Deep South to show love in the face of racial hatred and bigotry?" [Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community & Change]
​  
Soul force frees us from the lies that enslave us into the glorious freedom in Christ. This is the power of the gospel -- to break the chains of oppression and to set the prisoners free. This is the transformative power of love that frees the creative force of the Spirit within us so that we can experience movement within ourselves and within our communities.

Now is the time for courage. Now is the time for nonviolent resistance and enemy love. Now is the time to resist, create, forgive, advocate, and bear witness to love in the midst of division, violence, greed and power. Now is the time to draw upon the soul force within us to act in faith and love despite our fears. Now is the time.

by Jessica Ketola

From Fear to Freedom:
Name the fears. Choose one fear. Peel back the layers as far as you can of how it came to be, how it still exists within you, and how it plays out in your life. How has it helped and/or harmed you? What would happen if you disengaged it?
Face the fears. What are some small ways you can live in the truth? How might you pivot toward courage and move from fear to freedom in your everyday life?
Find people to hold you accountable. Who are some people you know who are living freedom over fear? What do you witness in them? What might you embody in your own life as a result of what you learn from them?
Examine the rootedness of the fear. What people or places are you afraid of? How can you move into closer proximity to them in order to hear their stories? What about those people or places do you also see in yourself? Are there any commonalities? What do you share?
 
Taken from Soul Force: Seven Pivots toward Courage, Community and Change by Reedsheda Graham-Washington and Shawn Casselberry. © 2018 Herald Press

Last weekend, we attended the Love Thy Neighbor Ordinary Revival gathering -- and one of the critical shifts they talked about was moving...

from fragmented isolation to neighborhood presence.

We are all too familiar with our hyper-mobile, technological, consumeristic, and individualistic culture and the ensuing fragmentation. Fragmentation of neighborhoods, families and communities that leaves so many of us today suffering from anxiety, depression and loneliness. But what is our response as the people of God? And how do we begin to imagine what it means to be faithfully present weaving a fabric of care in our places? [stolen from The New Parish] For this move from fragmented isolation to neighborhood presence is such an important shift. For how are we supposed to be love incarnate -- to reveal what God is like to our neighbors -- if we are not present?

This fall, there are going to be lots of opportunities for you to be present in your neighborhoods and communities. Whether that is a neighborhood dinner, a Muslim/Christian listening event, a social justice book club, a pub theology gathering or a 5K fun run, I encourage you to SHOW UP. Some of you have more bandwidth than others; and certainly, all of you have plenty of reasons why you don't have time, energy... yada yada yada ( I know I do!) But I want to encourage you, maybe even challenge you...to be present. In your neighborhood. At your local coffee shop. At the community forum. Your life will only be enriched.

I was talking with someone this week who shared how she was experiencing an increase in her quality of life -- the synergy and community that happens when you begin to run into folks everyday -- at the school pickup, the coffee shop, the grocery store and the local art show. It is an intangible gift until you experience it. The joy and beauty of belonging to a place, of feeling a sense of pride and ownership of the neighborhood, a feeling of being known and knowing others. This is the gift of presence in the neighborhood.

Of course, it will look different for each of us, depending on the unique contexts in which we live our lives, the demands of work and family and our passions and interests.

But no one is exempt.

You see, we don't get the privilege of talking without walking (it out).

Dear friends, do you think you'll get anywhere in this if you learn all the right words but never do anything? Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it? For instance, you come upon an old friend dressed in rags and half-starved and say, "Good morning, friend! Be clothed in Christ! Be filled with the Holy Spirit!" and walk off without providing so much as a coat or a cup of soup -- where does that get you? Isn't it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense? [James 2:14-17 The Message]

For our faith must be expressed in action. This is why we are The Practicing Church. And formation doesn't happen just on Sunday. It happens on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday. And so we don't get to talk about justice and healing and renewal in the world without somehow, even in very small ways, participating in this work.

So many of you are steeped in this healing work in the world as counselors, teachers, mental health workers and chaplains that you feel like there is nothing left when you get home. Others of you are beginning to experience the joy of neighborhood presence. Still others of you are not sure where to begin. And so if this idea of neighborhood presence feels daunting to you, start small. But do start.

Love your neighbor -- your actual neighbors. It is a tremendous gift that just keeps on giving.

Root in a particular place and allow God's dream to grow there.

Show up and be present. Learn the names and faces of your community. Listen deeply to their stories.

Open up your homes. Open up your hearts. Open up your lives.

This week, as I've heard beautiful stories of heartache and resilience that moved me to tears at a cultural community event, as I've thrown back my head and laughed with my Muslim neighbor, as I've participated in a community forum for my neighbors experiencing homelessness, as I've grieved with my neighbor experiencing a tragic loss and as I've made of fool of myself with the neighborhood kids at Turning Point, my life is so much bigger, fuller and richer. And I feel alive and connected to God's dream here.

For surely it is the work of the Spirit. All I have to do is show up.

by Jessica Ketola

This last Sunday we talked about how Jesus came to reveal what God was like.

LOVE INCARNATE. Divine love in human form. A God who meets us in the everyday longings, pain and hunger of our ordinary lives.

I am intensely aware of this as we serve coffee on Aurora at the methadone clinic amidst more suffering than I can fully comprehend. Beautiful and resilient spirits housed in bodies ravaged by addiction with dreams that seem forever illusive. God, where are you?

For since the beginning of time, we have tried to wrap our minds around what God is like -- and I think that most religion, philosophy and mythology is trying to answer this question. Is God like the violent and demanding pagan gods of the ancients? Is God full of wrath and judgment like the hell and brimstone preachers say? Is God distant and uncaring? Or is God absent, irrelevant and obsolete?

But Jesus answered this question, once and for all. God is love incarnate. Love is the essence of God. God loves as the sun shines: love expresses who God is. And through Jesus, love came in human form and laid down his life for us through the work of the cross, taking on our suffering, sin, sorrow and pain. And somehow, even in our secular culture, the cross remains a poignant symbol with the theme of sacrifice repeated again and again in the stories we tell. For somehow we know in our bones that the cross of Jesus was the ultimate revelation of true power and true love.

For we all feel our wounds and our sorrows, whether discreetly hidden behind the safety of middle-class garage doors or flagrantly blatant on Aurora Avenue. And so the image of Jesus on the cross speaks of the true God -- not as a distant, faceless bureaucrat, nor as a bullying boss, but as the one who has strangely come right into the middle of the pains, the agonies, the hungers and sorrows of the world and taken their full force on himself. In a sense, all of Christian theology, certainly theology of the cross, is the attempt to explain this very immediate, personal, visceral experience.

And so standing at the foot of the cross taking in the extraordinary lengths that God has gone for us, it almost seems impossible to NOT sense the wonder, the power, the miracle and the possibility in love.This is the force that has changed the world, and is still has the power to change the world if we as followers of Jesus could only catch it.

For what John says next is huge.

Beloved, if that's how God loved us, we ought to love one another in the same way. Nobody has ever seen God. If we love one another, God abides in us and God's love is completed in us. [I John 4:11-12]

Jesus is the example; now we should copy it. Yes, simple and straightforward, beautiful and stunning, and well, almost impossible to do. And yet through the power and unction of the Spirit, that which is impossible becomes possible.

No one has ever seen God, not so much as a glimpse. This one-of-a-kind God-Expression, who exists at the very heart of the Father, has made him plain as day. [John 1:18] This is remarkably profound. We don't really know who God is until we look at Jesus. And so what John is provocatively saying is that people around us really don't know who God is -- until they see it revealed in our lives as the people of God. Until God's love is completed in us. For the work of Jesus is meant to continue through us, the church.

This is phenomenally challenging and also achingly true. This is why I signed up to be a pastor and why I can't walk away from the church -- for this is our calling, our vocation and our mandate as the people of God. As disparaging as our current realities are and as far as we stray from this truth, it remains.

We are called to be LOVE INCARNATE.

And this week as I stood out on Aurora doing an inanely simple thing, a profoundly human and earthy thing, offering coffee, muffins and a smile to my fellow siblings, I was reminded by sages much wiser than I. Of the goodness of showing up. Of the beauty of presence. Of the gift of listening and seeing. One woman said, "Thank you so much for doing this, for being here. You know most folks don't even see us as people." And she offered me the gift of seeing what I couldn't see without her eyes -- showing me how we dehumanize, categorize, and ostracize, cutting ourselves off from the true lament of suffering with.

This is the kind of love that Jesus offers. Compassion. A love that suffers with. Us. In all our pain, flailing, acting out and struggle. And a love that suffers with our neighbor. Who we are tempted to classify and thus write off as "other". Somehow I know that as we attempt to connect to this divine love and to more fully embody it, those who we deem most in need will become our greatest teachers. For our arrogance is blinding and our independence crippling.

Somehow we as a community will have to find ways to embody this love, to live a way of love together in our neighborhoods and communities, to share life and meals, joys and pains, our dreams and our disappointments. We will have to begin to "overflow" with the love that we have received to those around us as we show up in our communities joining in justice, renewal, mercy and compassion. We will have to care about those that are perceived to be "other" or on the "outside", those who are oppressed, those who are hated. And doing this will take intentionality. It will take sacrifice. It will take proximity.

But what if...?

What if we could begin to be love incarnate? Love in human form. What if we could stumble and experiment and practice and embody love as the Spirit weaves us into something truly beautiful and stunning?

I hope you will join us this Sunday as we continue to wrestle with how we are called to live lives of love. For God is love and this love is so compelling, so true, so powerful that it can still change the world.

by Jessica Ketola