My heart is heavy today like the dense, grey clouds that seem to be pressing in on me, my eyes misty like the persistent drizzle falling from the sky, proof that even the heavens are crying. These are hard days. Especially for those of us who dream. Of the beloved community that Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of, a vibrant, multiracial nation where poverty, racism and violence are defeated. And yet, today that dream seems farther away than ever. As I listen to community leaders, many of whom are women and people of color, we are weary. Social media is a dangerous place. Many are opting out to preserve their mental health. And then there’s the onslaught of media. We must be vigilant to guard the amount of news we ingest, lest we lose heart. With the constant barrage of tensions around immigration, borders, bans, race, #metoo, misogyny, gun violence, power mongers, and fundamentalists that seem to be against all that is good and holy, is it any wonder that I am struggling to fight back the tears.
 
But perhaps I should stop fighting. A good friend, Rachael Clinton, practitioner and author at The Allender Center, reminded me in her beautiful post that lament is part of hope. We as embodied creatures feel the dissonance and the fragmentation of our communities viscerally; and we need practices in which we can move through grief. It may seem paradoxical for those of us who are warriors and social justice fighters to surrender to the sorrow and let the tears overflow from our eyes, but grief enlarges us like a woman in childbirth.

In Rachael's words, "Yesterday evening I drove to the spa (in my flannel pajamas and a puffy coat nonetheless because they were open until midnight and I was trying to be efficient) so I could pray and meditate, wrapped in heat, sweating out the toxic. I wanted to hear from God. I wanted to find courage and hope and strength. I've developed many a sermon at the spa, so it was not an unrealistic expectation.

​But as I sat there, surrounded by women of many different ethnicities and ages, tending to their bodies, all I could do was weep. I felt that groaning of the Spirit who intercedes with language too deep for words when we do not know how to pray (Romans 8), like a woman in labor, birthing new life. The lament was holy, powerful, and paradoxically brought me to the rest and comfort I was actually seeking.

It's always humbling to be ushered into an embodied experience of something you talk about all the time...that lament is a part of hope."

And so today, though I believe more than ever in God’s Dream, I am going to surrender to the tremendous sorrow I feel in my own body for all the bodies. Black bodies. Brown bodies. Women’s bodies. Assaulted bodies. Hungry bodies. Dehumanized bodies. Denigrated bodies. We are all part of the human race, inextricably linked together as children of God, meant to live in harmony as one body.

If one part of the body suffers, all the other parts suffer with it. And if one part of our body is honored, all the other parts share in its honor. [I Corinthians 12:26]

by Jessica Ketola

This Monday, we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. and the remarkable dream he had of a vibrant, multiracial nation united in justice, peace and reconciliation. This dream that, although cost him his life, has resonated with so many across our nation and the globe -- and today his powerful words persist.  I believe this is because Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream looks like God's Dream. God's Dream, where unconditional love, forgiveness and nonviolence (peace) become a revolutionary force that cannot be stopped. God's Dream, where we serve one another and come together across difference as sisters and brothers to build the beloved community. God's Dream for a world where racism, poverty, violence and war are defeated as we work together to fight injustice and racial inequality.
 
Last Sunday, we talked about God's Dream. For our lives. But it's bigger than that. For our families. But it's bigger than that. For our faith community. But it's bigger than that. For our neighborhoods and communities. But it's bigger than we can imagine and includes the renewal and redemption of everything and everyone. This dream is the good news, the story of the gospel, this sweeping narrative throughout all of history where God is putting everything to right that is wrong in the world and bringing peace and healing to all of creation.
 
This Dream is why our community exists. As The Practicing Church, our mission is to join God in the renewal of all things by practices that ground us in the love of God. This Dream - God's shalom bursting forth for the flourishing of our community - is our WHY.
 
Every individual and organization has a WHY and according to Simon Senek, Start With the Why, this is the purpose, cause or belief that causes us to do what we do. My friend, Tim Soerens, co-founder of The Parish Collective and co-author of The New Parish, talks about how so often as the Western church we get it all backwards. Our WHY begins with the church. We want to build the church, strengthen the church, fix the church. And from there, our HOW is often the latest techniques or church growth models and our WHAT becomes our programs.

But Soerens suggests that if we are to read our biblical text right, our WHY must begin with God's Dream. Which is so much bigger than you and I and our faith community. It includes our neighbors and our schools, our local businesses and our civic discourse. It includes the African-American church down the road, the Eritrean Orthodox Church and the local mosque. It includes those with privilege in our community and those without. It includes the poor, the refugee, the addicted, and our neighbors who live outside. God's Dream includes everyone.
 
Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Dream was so big, so inspiring and so compelling that he gave his life for it and those who joined courageously faced death, imprisonment, beatings, threats, bombings and more. I believe this is always true of God's Dream. Jesus' Dream ignited a revolution that the world had never before seen and His followers, who were also imprisoned, beaten and stoned to death, changed the course of history as this new way of love, equity and forgiveness swept across the ancient world. You see, God's Dream is so revolutionary and so compelling that it upsets the status quo and causes us to leave behind the comfort of our own small lives to join a bigger story - to love and to serve humanity.
 
May God's Dream compel us, for there is much work to be done. I wish that we could celebrate the realization of Dr. King's Dream on Monday, but unfortunately, we cannot. And there is a prophetic lament that is rising up in our nation on the 50th anniversary of his death. How long, O Lord, how long? Until we see justice and equality for all. [If you are in the Seattle area, here is a list of MLK events happening this weekend.]
 
If our WHY is the church, then our why is anything but compelling. I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it a hundred more. I don't want to just do church for the sake of doing church. I've done it. I'm over it. [And there's a bazillion reasons why that I've blogged about previously.]
 
But if our WHY is God's Dream. This big, beautiful dream of a beloved community where young and old, men and women, rich and poor, black and white, gay and straight, Christian and Muslim are all valued and cherished as children of God. Where our neighborhoods are pulled into shalom, seeking justice for those without power and privilege, where everyone across difference, race and class are coming together to seek the flourishing of our communities. Where our neighbors begin to see that God is for them. Where our colleagues begin to see and hear and feel God's in-breaking on their behalf. Where the lonely are brought into community. Where the disempowered and forgotten find their voice. Where those weighed down under heavy burdens begin to experience the lightness of God's loving grace and freedom. THIS. This is something I am willing to give my life to. Because this dream compels me. It inspires me. This Dream is our WHY as The Practicing Church, and it is at the heart of all we do and why we exist.

The time is now. Come, leave your small life behind. Join in God's big, beautiful Dream!

​by Jessica Ketola