This week has been a week like none other. We are collectively experiencing great upheaval, grief, and trauma across our nation. As we continue to be in lock down due to a global pandemic with almost 110,000 deaths in the U.S., we are simultaneously watching the whole country ablaze with outrage and protest in the wake of the brutal murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and countless others. It is heavy. These apocalyptic times seem to be unveiling all the deep wounds of racism, violence and white supremacy in our country in a way that seem to have our attention.

And so amidst the grief and the lament, a stubborn hope persists. For right alongside the disturbing images of demagogues, contortions of faith, and military police using excessive force in the face of peaceful protestors, I see so many beautiful displays of repentance and solidarity. Sustained protests in all 50 states, made up of every shade of black, brown and white, coming together to see justice roll like a river in our streets. Profound images of protestors and officers taking a knee, crowds singing in unity, and children chanting in the streets. And while it will take much more than symbols or prayers to disrupt systemic racism and many rightly criticize a false peace, I pray that this movement toward one another continues.

For it is empire that wants to divide and conquer. It is a system of scarcity where violence, greed and fear reign. We fight one another and in turn, we all suffer. And in a time of extreme polarization and division across our country, we are all bearing the brunt of our fragmentation.

“In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be...This is the inter-related structure of reality.” -Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Structured racism MUST be abolished but we can't stop there! A tree has roots and so does the current American dilemma. The root of our problems stem from a warped Western worldview that values hierarchy over the dignity of every voice, binary choices over living in wise compromise or becoming comfortable with tension, and individualism instead of community ethics for the common good..." -Randy Woodley

Saint Paul said it like this, "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." -I Corinthians 12:26

​My prayer of repentance begins with acknowledging that as a white woman of privilege, I have not suffered with my black and brown siblings who are suffering.

Distance is a privilege that we must surrender. -Sunia Gibbs

My prayer is that we will LEAN IN.

Lean into the discomfort. Lean into the learning. Lean into the listening. Lean into the grief and the horror of solidarity. For those of you like me who are white, you may just be waking up to your complicity in these systems of oppression. You may be struggling to know how to join the fight for justice. I too struggle. What I can say is that we must lean in. Repentance looks like giving up the privilege of distance and listening to the black and brown leaders who have been in this work a long time.

Racism is traumatic. Black people are experiencing a collective trauma. Being heard is necessary to our healing. ⁣ -Latasha Morrison

Know that this is a costly and arduous journey that must go beyond toxic tears and social media spurts void of true repentance. As followers of Jesus, we are called to repent, to live another way, and to join in the revolution of love. So let's roll up our sleeves, do our work, and lean in.

Know that The Practicing Church is committed to the long road of repentance, the dismantling of white supremacy, and the co-creation of the beloved community. Though we admit our profound ineptitude and ignorance to do so, we fall upon the leading of the Spirit who alone can bring the transformation needed in our hearts and our communities. And over the coming weeks and months, we will commit ourselves to journey together.

And so as you lean into your own discomfort this week, as you perhaps attend an anti-racist webinar, or dive into your anti-racist book, attend a protest, or have hard conversations, I leave you with this blessing from writer, pastor and author, Dominique Gilliard who contemporized this classic Franciscan prayer for this kairos moment.

May God bless you with holy anger at white supremacy, police brutality, and racial oppression, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.

May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from systemic racism, xenophobia, and anti-blackness, so that you may sacrificially reach out to them in love, learn how to stand in solidarity with them, and work alongside them to transform broken systems and structures.

May God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we really CAN make a difference in this world, so that we are able, with God's grace, to help the Church do what others claim cannot be done: truly become an interconnected Body, where when one part suffers, every part suffers with it. -Dominique DuBois Gilliard


by Jessica Ketola

We are continuing our journey in this season to find Interior Freedom in the midst of Covid Constraint. And as we heard just this week from Governor Jay Inslee that our stay at home orders will be extended, we are acutely feeling the confinement of quarantine and longing for freedoms that we haven't tasted now for two months. And so our discussion this last Sunday was anything but theoretical as we wrestled with the question --

"What is Freedom?"

There is an interesting commentary on Freedom being played out center stage in current events. There are those who feel their "rights" have been infringed upon and they are fighting for their freedom as they protest for stay at home orders to be lifted.

But one must ask freedom for whom?

For the individual or for the entire community? For one or for all?

I do not pretend to know when the right time is for states to reopen, being neither a scientist or an economist. But as a follower of Jesus, I believe that Love is the highest law. I know that we are collectively grieving a lot. People are hurting. People are afraid. And yet I share in Jesus' concern for the poor, the vulnerable, the widow, the refugee, the incarcerated and the outcast.

What does Love dictate in this moment? What does it mean to love our neighbors as ourselves?

​So yes, "What is Freedom?"

The truth is that often what we espouse as our personal freedom is not freedom for all. In fact, many times our privilege and choices are at the cost of the oppressed and vulnerable whether that is the sweatshop worker who stitched our new sweatshirt overseas or the migrant worker who is welcome to pick our fresh fruit but not welcome at our table.
​
The Coronavirus is only revealing the gross injustices that exist in our country in the pursuit of freedom. And while there is truth in our collective experience given that no one is immune to the virus, this pandemic is far from the great "equalizer". Instead, it is exacerbating the inequalities in American society, taking a disproportionate toll on low-income Americans, people of color, and others who were already marginalized before the crisis hit. The news from the nation’s prisons, detention centers, and the Navajo Nation is increasingly heartbreaking. Insult to injury in view of our nation's inhumane and systemic war on black and brown bodies.

So I ask you, "What is freedom?"

For while the human heart is created for freedom, our culture's definition of freedom is in stark contrast to the freedom we see in the gospel.

Jesus said, "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free." [Luke 4:18]

The American gospel could be stated like this: The Spirit of greed, individualism, consumerism and imperialism is upon us to procure good news for our own interests that is nothing but bad news for the poor, that continues to profit off of systems of white supremacy, violence and the imprisonment of black and brown bodies, that steals and ravages our land and disregards our responsibility to it and to one another, that turns a blind eye to the plight of the powerless, the needy and our neighbors who are suffering, and continues to pile on burdens to those already bowed down.

I have said this before and I will say it again. I believe that we are being given an opportunity to repent.To go another way.

There is another way to live.

Yes, it will require giving up some of our personal "freedoms" in order to be a part of the richness of a collective wholeness. But I hope we can see where our American gospel has gotten us. We are in need of healing like never before. The whole earth is groaning, heaving and sighing with labors pains, longing for redemption.

So perhaps we give up some of our preferences in order to actually love our neighbor. Perhaps we reorder our precious time so that we can tutor neighborhood kids. Perhaps we cultivate a neighborhood garden instead of one in our own backyard. Perhaps we rally the community to support our favorite local business. Perhaps we give up beef so that plant workers don't die. Perhaps we continue to walk our neighborhoods and ride our bikes and leave our cars at home. Perhaps we pass on our stimulus check to someone who can't pay their rent. Perhaps we humbly follow the directives to stay home so that the most vulnerable don't fall ill.

For most of us, these are very small sacrifices given overwhelming suffering. But we must begin to live into another story.

As our freedoms are currently constrained, it is a good moment to reflect on our privilege and our responsibility to one another and to our places. Is our freedom at the expense of others or is it a freedom for all that heals, restores, and liberates.

This poem by Kitty O'Meara has expressed a collective prayer for healing that is reverberating. It is a prayer of repentance and of healing.

And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows.
And the people began to think differently. And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.

May we begin to live into another way, a way of healing and freedom in harmony with our neighbor and with creation. May we rediscover what it is to be human and what it is to love one another. And may we make new choices and dream new dreams.


by Jessica Ketola


Further Reading
The Fullness Thereof by Randy Woodley
Rethinking Incarceration by Dominique Dubois Gilliard
Church Forsaken by Pastor Jonathan Brooks
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry

​Last week, I talked about the "secret" in the suffering of our current global pandemic — the practice of consenting to what we did not choose. For there is a greater freedom found in the acceptance of our reality than in our ability to transform reality. And yet as we consent to what we did not choose, even though the world remains the same, our heart and our postures shift and transform our very experience of reality.

And so as we stare down the next weeks, maybe months, in quarantine, I am inviting each and every one of you to embark on a journey to find freedom in constraint.

For there are gifts to be found here in the wilderness of lock-down that we wouldn't receive in more buoyant times. There are things to be learned here that we wouldn't learn except for our current realities. These are the unique kairos moments of invitation in every moment, every day, and every season. No matter how difficult the circumstances, the Spirit's invitation beckons.

As The Practicing Church, our mission remains the same. We want to join in the renewal of all things through practices that ground us in the love of God and neighbor. Transformation is the goal. We want to practice the Way of Jesus to come home to love and embody love to our neighbor. And so over the next eight weeks, we want to journey together to find an interior freedom that no constraint or circumstance can touch.

Are you ready?

These apocalyptic times are revealing much. About us. About our consolations and desolations. And about what it means to be the church. As a contemplative missional community, we have struggled with how we are to be the church in light of spacial distancing. So much of our ethos of hospitality, embodiment, service and faithful presence now seeming painfully elusive.

We know we don't want to create a product to consume. For church is not an event but a community where every member is responsible for their own spiritual formation with gifts to give and receive. And we are committed now more than ever to being the church and sharing a way of life that forms us in the way of love. Folks everywhere are rediscovering the value of the local and the beauty of the neighborhood in the midst of sheltering in place. It is confirming all we know to be true about living the gospel here on the ground in our everyday lives and participating in the flourishing of our neighborhoods.

And so we are committed to taking this journey with you to move from anger to consent, from despair to hope, and from fear to love. And in a season of intense distancing, we are going to lean into presence however we can. All of the details will be unfolding in the following weeks; but here is a brief outline.

1) WE WILL JOURNEY TOWARD INTERIOR FREEDOM.
We will collectively journey through the book and study guide for Interior Freedom. This is one of my favorite books and Father Jacques has much to teach us about freedom in constraint. We have ordered multiple copies and will be getting them to you upon arrival.

2) WE WILL ENGAGE IN PRACTICES OF FAITHFUL PRESENCE — LOVING GOD, NEIGHBOR AND OURSELVES EVERY WEEK.

• Present to God: We will choose solitude over isolation and engage in practices of communing with God.

 

• Present to our Neighbors: We will look for ways to continue to love our neighbors from checking in on vulnerable neighbors, to giving grocery cards to families in need, and offering our gifts to the community.

 

• Present to Ourselves: We will attend to our own souls and health during this time, being intentional to implement life-giving rhythms.

3) WE WILL JOURNEY TOGETHER.

• Partnering: We will each pair up with a partner to do weekly check-ins with our practices and book reflections - and well, just care for one another.

 

• Spiritual Direction: We love the work of spiritual direction where a spiritual companion accompanies one in the work of discernment in their life. If this is something you are missing or longing for, we can help connect you to a spiritual director.

 

• Weekly Rhythms: We will continue to gather weekly online every Sunday as well as practice a few other life-sustaining rhythms (upon your feedback) to keep us all centered and sane.

An Invitation
The truth is that as much grief as we are all holding in this time, we have a profound opportunity to grow in faith, hope, and love. And as confining as our circumstances might feel, there is an interior freedom we can cultivate that cannot be constrained. In these extraordinary times, I believe there is an extraordinary invitation.

Will you say yes and embark on the journey?

Join us this Sunday as we begin leaning in. The choice is yours.

Freedom awaits you.


​by Jessica Ketola

Today, I am grieving. And while there is much to grieve in the world. Far too much to grieve I'm afraid. I am grieving losses a little closer to home.

I'm grieving the beauty of faces across the room, the comfort of a touch or a hug, the joy of feasting together over a candlelit table, sharing our lives and our hearts, as our voices fall and rise with stories and songs, our bodies resonating with vibration, letting us know that we are not alone.

I'm grieving the tangible, the ordinary, the up close and personal — of presence.

For the past six years, I have been attempting (admittedly poorly at times) to grow in the practice of presence. What does it mean to slow down, to listen, to pay attention and to be present to those around me? What does it mean to be present to my family, my neighbors, my community, my place, and the very ordinary mundane of my life? This journey to be faithfully present has proven to be both difficult and transformative. I experience a richness in my life that is worth its weight in gold. And this I am grieving.

I miss our neighborhood dinners. Jeff's friendly pat on the back with his, "How's it going?" Matt's hearty laugh and appetite. Masoud's cooking that always comes from the heart. Courtney's wine pouring technique sure to aerate the finest $6 bottle of wine. Fred's treats for dogs and kids alike. Juanita's homemade beans. Carolyn's Trader Joes treats. The sound of Genesis and Malachi playing in the background. Becky and Kathy, my 6am walking buddies, tired like me after a long day. I miss the gift of being present and in person with my neighbors.

I miss our sacred gatherings. Cooking in the kitchen with Jenni and her adorable dog Oliver. Greeting the community with hugs and warm welcome. Scriptures. Prayers. Songs sung in beautiful harmonies. Bill's thoughtful, unhurried reflections. Diane's kind and empathetic presence. David D.'s profound rambling poetic. April's refreshing honesty and exuberant smile. Jocelyn's bravery. Carrie's eloquence. Sharing the heartrending grief of what it means to be human. Sharing the heart-bursting dreams of what it means to be the church as we join in the work of love here in our small patch of earth.

These themes of grief and hope persist. We are currently in a Lenten season that none of us would have chosen. Confined to our living spaces, our only connection to the world is through our screens. We grieve a way of life now suddenly vanquished. The world has shifted beneath our feet. And so yes, grief and hope, death and life are very present on our minds. As we approach Holy Week, the “Stations of the Cross”, Good Friday and Easter now resonate with fresh meaning.

What does it mean to journey with Jesus in the grief, the disorientation, the confusion, and the immense hope of Holy Week?

Embedded in the stories that unveil Holy Week, Jesus says these words that eerily parallel what our world is currently experiencing. He, too, was lamenting a time when they would not be together. For the world was indeed heaving and rumbling with the birth of new creation and would never be the same.

“Behold the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” [John 16:32-33]

Jesus was speaking of the days to come when he would be abandoned by his disciples, distanced and isolated, and he leans into the presence of the Father knowing he is not actually alone. In fact, even death couldn't separate him from Divine Love. And so he encourages his followers, who have "self-isolated" and scattered into their own homes in fear and uncertainty saying, "Don't be afraid." For he knew the grief that they would be feeling. Jesus, in all of his humanity, profoundly felt it too. For the suffering of the cross was before him.

And yet he also knew the joy set before him. "...Jesus...who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." [Hebrews 12:2]

This is what Jesus speaks of when he says, "Take heart, I have overcome the world." Love wins. Death is not the end of the story. This is the greatest reversal the world has ever known. Easter means that we have been liberated from the oppression of fear and death. The evil powers of this age that ravage our world with sickness, violence, racism and greed have been dealt a final blow. And so even now, in the midst of a global pandemic full of disruption, disorientation, grief and loss, we are invited into the birth pains of new creation [Romans 8:18-28].

We are invited to grieve and to hope, to groan and to wait, to dream and to create.

So will you accept the invitation to journey with Jesus perhaps more intimately than ever before? As we move through Holy Week, in the absence of the presence of our communities, let us lean into the Presence of the One who is closer than our very breath. And let us enter fully into both the grief and the hope of our stories.

These themes of death and life, confusion and disruption resonate very closely in these times. And yet there is a place in our souls of deep peace, freedom and contentment that is untouched by any circumstance or hardship — it is a place of Divine Presence. Love. Connection. Communion.
​
As many of our rhythms are now being stripped away, I encourage you to lean into new practices of Presence. Take some time for solitude, silence and reflection. What comfort awaits us as we become more attuned to the Divine Presence who is acquainted with sorrow and suffering like no other? What beauty awaits us as we experience union with a humble, self-sacrificing Love that is more powerful than empire, evil or death? As we join in the birth pains of Holy Week in concert with a world collectively heaving and sighing, let us experience the transformative power of death and life, grief and hope, loss and redemption. This is holy work indeed.

by Jessica Ketola

LIVING IN A TIME OF PANDEMIC
This is uncharted territory. None of us have had to figure out what life looks like in the midst of a worldwide pandemic. Anxiety is widespread - as we worry about the well being of our families and loved ones, our finances, our security, our sanity, and our world! So let us be gentle with ourselves and with each other. These are unprecedented times. Stressful times. There is much we have lost already and we don't know the full measure of the losses to come.

Students from wee-high to college-age are missing out on the power of in-person learning. Neighbors from all backgrounds, cultures and economics are missing out on the richness of community and the structures of support in their lives. Workers across so many industries are missing out on the crucial income they need to survive. Families are mourning the deaths of their loved ones. And those on the front lines— grocery clerks, social workers, health care workers and first responders, are missing the safety they once felt as they enter a war zone every day. There is much to grieve.

ALL THINGS HAVE THE ABILITY TO DRAW US INTO THE LOVE OF GOD
And yet as crazy as it sounds, all of this is the soil to grow in faith, hope and love.

Therefore, since we have been declared righteous by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. We have also obtained access through him by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. [Romans 5:1-5]

God's love remains true. Suffering, affliction and persecution are not new to the world or to Christians historically — and yet nothing, nothing can separate us from the love of God.

Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Romans 8:35-39]

Perfect love casts out fear. And so even in times of global pandemic, we can be conquerors of anxiety, greed, fear and loneliness. St. Ignatius' first principle states that “all the things in this world are . . . presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.” And so over the course of the next few weeks, we will be exploring what it means to find God in all things - here and now, in the midst of our own fears, worries and constraints. How can we move through what feels like a loss of freedom to find the expansiveness of interior freedom that comes as we grow in love and childlike trust with our Creator who knows us intimately, Christ who understands our suffering, and Spirit who is closer than our very breath.

JOINING IN GOD'S WORK OF LOVE IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD
God loves and invites us to love God in return. Secondly, God loves and invites us to love our neighbors. We are invited to join with God in this work of love that is transforming and healing the world. And in a time of widespread anxiety and economic uncertainty, the call to love our neighbor is crucial, especially for the most vulnerable. As the COVID-19 pandemic affects the ways in which we gather as a church, it doesn't change the fact that we are the church. And we are perfectly poised to be the church in our neighborhood.

"The questions each member of a local church needs to ask are "How can our participation in a particular gathering grow our capacity to be a living expression of the church together in everyday life? How can it really help us to become a tangible witness of Christ's love, and to participate together in what God is doing in the place we live?" -The New Parish

I believe we have been faithfully asking this question and that we are called for such a time as this. I urge you to reach out to your neighbors in this time, especially those who may be sick, elderly, or disabled. I have seen so many great examples of how neighbors are offering to check in on one another and offering to run errands or get groceries for those who are quarantined: See Neighborhood Pods, Neighborhood Flyers, and Curing Our Moral Virus of Loneliness.

Today I conspired with Lynn Newcombe, the Director of Turning Point, our nonprofit that provides free tutoring to students who qualify for free and reduced lunches in the Shoreline School District. With the need for spatial distancing, our tutoring program has closed with the closure of school. However, our community and love for one another has not stopped. In fact, we are putting together a plan to continue to support our families who will be hard hit by this pandemic. Chromebooks, good fiction, and board games are being shared and given. Tutors are being recruited to offer remote assistance. And grocery gift cards will be given out to families now who are struggling to survive! And because of our relational equity over the years, we are able to uniquely bring our neighbors together! And each one of you can join in this work of love in the neighborhood! You can give here toward grocery cards for neighbors in need. (Just select -Lenten Generosity for Neighbors in Need-)

“In love, one always wants to give to the other what one has.” - St. Ignatius.

So what is our invitation to love? What does love compel us to do or to be? How do we show our love for God, for ourselves, for others, and for our neighborhoods?

SPATIAL DISTANCING, NOT SOCIAL DISTANCING
I'm not a fan of the trending phrase, social distancing - as if we are not already isolated, fragmented and lonely! Instead, I am using the term spatial distancing for we absolutely cannot afford to go it alone. And while love may dictate that we keep some spatial distance during this time, I encourage you to make sure you connect, check in, and care for one another!

Last week, we ended up making the decision to move our weekly in-person gathering online and we will continue to meet virtually through the end of March or as needed. It was really heart-warming to see everyone's faces and it was good to connect with one another in these challenging times. So I encourage you to join us this Sunday at 5pm for a Zoom Call. And we will explore these questions. How do we lean into the interior freedom of love and trust in these times? And what is the invitation to love our neighbor in really practical ways? How do we find Love in all things?


​by Jessica Ketola

Last night I traveled back from sunny San Diego on an eerily empty flight. I guess no one was pumped about flying to Seattle when we are at the epicenter of the country's Coronavirus pandemic!

There is a move to contain the spread of the virus here in our area with schools closing, events being cancelled and companies urging employees to work from home. I've heard from those who aren't concerned about it in the least chalking it up with overblown scares in the past, and others who are anxiety-ridden, at-risk or find themselves quarantined with life very much disrupted! As with anything, our perspectives are largely dependent upon our level of privilege and proximity to the threat.

And so I have been asked the question, as followers of Jesus, what is our response to be? And in keeping with the teachings of Jesus and oddly enough paralleling the Lenten journey, I believe we are called to both constraint and generosity that resists fear and moves us toward love.

CONSTRAINT
I believe we must use wisdom and discretion certainly, if not for our own sake, for the sake of those who are vulnerable among us. Many of us are young(ish) and healthy and would survive the virus just fine. But unfortunately, there are others who are more susceptible to its life-threatening effects. And so I urge you to follow the recommendations of King County Public Health. Wash your hands (religiously in this case!) and stay at home if you are are feeling ill. For those of you considered to be high risk, it is recommended that you stick close to home and stay away from large gatherings. Following precautions and using constraint acknowledges the simple truth that we are all connected and that our individual actions have impact on the collective whole.

GENEROSITY
At the same time, as people of faith, we are called not to fear but to courageous love that compels us to love our neighbor as ourself. And so let us resist the urge to panic, to lock our doors and hoard our resources. Historically, Christians have been known for their self-sacrificing compassion and care for the sick during times of plague or sweeping illness. [Check out the response of Christians in Wuhan!] And so let us look beyond our own concerns and look out for the welfare of our neighbors, especially those who are most vulnerable. Here is a wonderful article that talks a little about our own invitation toward transformation: Corona: Disorder as Transformation.

If you are a younger and healthier individual who is fully capable of heading to the store without taking your life in your hands, remember those like my 83-year-old neighbor who should not be in public spaces. If you know of those who are ill, make sure they get the medical care they need. If you have friends or co-workers who are quarantined and isolated, reach out to offer some support, even if it is through your iphone or computer screen. If you are shopping or going out to a restaurant, support your local businesses (perhaps especially Asian business) that might be hard hit in this time. Let us be known for our love, our kindness and our generosity.

By practicing both constraint and generosity, we attest to the reality that we are not rugged individualists independent or silo'd away from "the other". We are more connected than we often recognize. We are meant to be a body, connected and diverse, each part contributing and affecting the flourishing of the whole.

And in a time of widespread fear and all the worst that kicks up in people in the midst of anxiety, we can offer comfort, peace, kindness, mercy and hope. For we will journey this Lenten season toward the Love of God that holds us, surrounds us and pursues us tenaciously. And we are invited to turn away from fear and scarcity and turn towards a generous and courageous love.

by Jessica Ketola

Photo by Benjamin Sow on Unsplash

Last night we gathered for our neighborhood dinner where every week we gather with around twenty of our neighbors to share a meal and our lives. One of our newest attendees is a vivacious 6-year-old girl who loves it so much that she convinced her aunt who was watching her for the evening to bring her! Of course, the big draw are the little friends her age who live in our downstairs apartment. However, I have to believe that this is only a piece of the puzzle — for we are all hard-wired for community.

​You see, there is also Fred, the doting grandpa, who doesn't yet have grandchildren of his own, but who brings treats for the kids every week (and the dogs for that matter) and kindly engages them in play while their parents eat. And we can't go without mentioning Patmon, the sweet golden retriever who serves as a therapy dog by day and the consummate playful companion by night. You add in delicious and plentiful food, raucous conversations, and the warmth and energy of fitting twenty people around the table — and it's no wonder this is becoming a beloved event even for our smallest members.

One thing I know is that when the community comes together, anything is possible. You can feel it palpable in the air. Already, the gifts of the community are being activated. We have gardeners and want-to-be gardeners. We have cooks and those who aspire to. We have tired parents and doting aunts and uncles. We have students who struggle with homework and teachers who offer guidance. We have those with construction skills and those who panic at the sight of a hammer. We have neighborhood activists, marathon runners, cyclists, and beer connoisseurs. We have engineers, therapists, doulas, and business owners. Ours is a diverse community — and one can begin to sense that when we come together, there is nothing we can't solve.

And this is where the dreaming happens. When we begin to grasp that we are not consumers, but citizens, with the power to create a community where everyone can thrive. And I am beginning to hear this around the table these days. For the conversation is subtly changing from what can I do? to what can WE do? And the slightest of shifts brings about an entirely new set of possibilities. For when we move from powerlessness and the overwhelming feeling that there is little we can do — we are filled with a fierce and burgeoning hope that when we offer our gifts in concert with the gifts of the entire community, dreams really do come true.

And so I encourage you this week to let new imaginations stir within you. What are you dreaming about? What good in the world would you like to see that seems currently out of reach? What injustices around you tug at your heart? Like Jesus, what moves you with compassion? What hopes keep stubbornly rising?

And before you censor yourself and give yourself every good reason why this won't work, and quit before you begin — get in a room with your community, some friends, some pilgrims, some neighbors. Share your dreams and see if there might be a collective dream that arises.

Because like my 6-year-old neighbor and her aunt, who taking it all in, told me she was inspired to think about how she could do this in her own neighborhood, you too might begin to appreciate the abundance of riches found in community and realize that anything is possible.

by Jessica Ketola

Photo by Ant Rozetsky on Unsplash

We've been talking about the revelation of God in human form, Jesus in flesh and blood, who walked the roads of Galilee and now the streets of our neighborhoods -- within us and through us and perhaps in spite of us.

It is preposterous that God chooses to reveal God's nature through us - the body of Christ meant to embody love and light. Not as islands but together as a community. This is the mystery of the incarnation and an affront to everything we know to be true about ourselves. Cause let's face it — we are all too well acquainted with the often sordid smallness of our souls and the ways we fail in love. Or at least we recognize it in our neighbor!

This week, the gospel lectionary reading is pointed. 

​Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. [Matthew 5:13-16]

But what does this mean? Some have taken this out of context as license for grandiosity, self-righteousness, imperialism, or judgment. But remember these words are found in one of the most important pieces of scripture, the Sermon on the Mount. And here Jesus describes the nature of God's kin-dom and what we are to embody as followers of Jesus.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.
Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the humble, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of justice, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.

This is how we are to be salt and light to the world.

Somehow I don't think Jesus was talking about praying a prayer, attending church 1.7 times a month, going to church activities or being a "good person". This was a complete reversal of the world's systems. This was about becoming people of humility, presence, mercy and grace.

This was a revolution of love and Jesus offered an entirely different way to live.

If we truly are to be salt and light, we must live differently. We will have to go beyond attending meetings and assenting to a set of beliefs and actually begin to live a way of love in our neighborhoods. We are going to have to figure out what it means to fit together as a "body" working together, every part valuable, every gift needed, to embody love.

And to the best of my knowledge, embodiment happens in bodies — in real life and real places, around dinner tables and bus stops, community forums and coffee shops, soccer games and study groups. And it happens best in proximity, when we are literally bumping up next to one another in our everyday lives.

This was so evident this week as I walked with my neighbors Kathy and Becky, as I ran into my favorite grocery clerk, Matt; as I conspired with another neighbor over coffee; as I met with my friend Senait about a community project we're working on; as my neighbor Courtney spontaneously popped over to help prepare a meal; as we gathered on Wednesday for a neighborhood dinner and gobbled up made-with-love cookies from Juanita; as we brought soup to our neighbor Diane who's been sick; and as we schemed about a new gathering place in the neighborhood.

We are experiencing firsthand that there is another way to live.

We don't have to live under the tyranny of fragmentation, anxiety and materialism. Jesus offers us the good life. A life of love and connection, simplicity and sacrifice, forgiveness and peace-making.

And maybe, just maybe, we are beginning to taste of God's dream for us and our neighborhood. Where everything and everyone is pulled into the centrifugal force of Love that is making all things beautiful in their time. 

by Jessica Ketola

 In Advent, we celebrate that God is with us.

God is near. In John 1, we encounter a God, who became flesh and blood to dwell among us. God with skin on, here with us, Immanuel. It is absolutely breath-taking.

The Word became flesh and blood,
and moved into the neighborhood.
We saw the glory with our own eyes,
the one-of-a-kind glory,
like Father, like Son,
Generous inside and out,
true from start to finish.
[I John 1:14 MSG]

All this so that we would see what God is like. So we would see this one-of-a-kind glory, this extravagant goodness, and this bountiful generosity.

This is the mystery of the incarnation (God in human form) that now by the Holy Spirit continues in us, the church. Our shared, everyday lives are to be a sign and a witness that God is near.

For are we not meant to be the community of God embodying the compassion of Jesus in the neighborhoods we live in?

Like Christ, aren't we to be faithfully present amongst our neighbors in the particularities of our places, seeking healing, peace, and the flourishing of all? Are we not called to be fit together brick by brick to be a dwelling place for the presence of God?

God is building a home. God's using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what God is building. God used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now God's using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home. [Eph 2:21-22 MSG]

This is why our current models of church fail us. For we are not called to be individualistic, spiritual consumers but followers of Jesus -- being formed and knit together to join God's work of transformation in the world. Much is at stake. For our current brand of Western Christianity seems to have not only lost its mooring but its spiritual vitality and social credibility. It has sold-out to nationalism, economic imperialism, and the idols of technological progress, materialism, and wanton individualism.

Alan Roxburgh, in Joining God, Remaking Church, Changing the World, argues that the traditional, institutional church (like other social institutions) no longer works; it is unravelling. The good news, however, is that underneath the unravelling, God is up to something.

“The Spirit is busy re-founding the church for our time... showing us how to embody a way of life that makes space for alternative patterns of organizing life together—not more and better church programming that tries harder and harder to attract people, but a thicker sense of community that joins people together more holistically and organically."

We are called to be the church.

To be an incarnational community that participates in and demonstrates God's goodness to our neighbors.

This is why we emphasize faithful presence over a slick worship gathering and formational practices over spiritual consumption. We want to join God's work already present here in our place, at our neighborhood dinners, at Turning Point community meals, at the Social Justice Book Club, at One Cup Coffee, and at the Methadone Clinic. We want to join with God's work of peace and wholeness in our community by partnering with the city, the schools, local nonprofits, our neighborhood association and other faith communities. And we want to live a way of Love here together in this place in a way that is compelling to our neighbors.

As the letter to Colossians puts it, “In Christ, the fullness of Deity is presently living in bodily form—and you [Colossians, together among yourselves] have the fullness of Christ” [2:9]. This radical vision of a local community incarnating the reign of God now, of God’s future penetrating the present through a Spirit-led extended family, was vital to the dynamic witness and power of the early church.

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 MSG]

Jesus, our Immanuel, came to show us a God with us and among us. And as followers of Jesus, we too, are called to be God with skin — embodying the presence of God in the world. We are called to be a visible, viable, social alternative. We are to be a transformative community living life together rooted in our places, joining in God’s work of renewing all things. So that all those around us can see this God as plain as day and can experience God's love present with and among them.

by Jessica Ketola