With all of the variance found in the trenches I often struggle to see outright glowing hope, but perhaps glimmers. I am often encouraged by the openness I find amongst leaders who have historically not entered into these spaces. I see younger generations stand up for and want solutions that are not only benefiting one party. And yet, I also see people’s passion quickly descend into a frenzy and scarcity mentality. I see language co-opted and lose meaning, taking tools away from folks who desperately need them. I see people’s fear of being “canceled” or pushed out keeps them from speaking freely, exploring, or even asking questions. The risk to one’s reputation and livelihood feel at risk from even the smallest disagreement. Perhaps the thing that generates the most anxiety for me is the impact my choices will have on my child. If the relational risk will hurt him because he doesn’t understand, and with the internet,I am so mindful of how to engage in a space that lives forever and is easily called up as evidence in attacks. Will my words, actions, or positions be ever used to hurt or harm him? 

When this Journey of Hope pilgrimage first began, I felt an urgency to help move my church from here to there. I had anticipated this journey serving as a sort of guide to follow in order to accomplish something. If I do this, then my church will be this. I was nervous but hopeful. It wasn’t long before Jer helped me realize that this journey would be less about what I was to do and more about who I was to become. And still, I wasn’t quite sure what that would mean.

Here I am, months later. Our monthly Journey of Hope gatherings have ended. So many of my hopes from the beginning of this journey have been released. I now let go and surrender that which I had hoped to do, to mend, to achieve, to accomplish. As I let go, I sense something new, something unexpected.

My church is still hurting, and as difficult as it is to acknowledge, power and control are forces that are very much present there. We are still divided; perhaps even more than we were as I began the Journey of Hope, which is quite humbling because I now see that this journey is not about me. In fact, it’s not even about my church. This journey is about embracing the process of peacemaking and allowing the Spirit to bring life to the brokenness. It is about caring for myself and also helping others to care for themselves. It is about binding the wounds of others and also allowing them to bind my own wounds. It is about listening to the stories of others and also telling my own story. It is about allowing myself to have doubts and also to welcome the doubts of others. This journey is not just about who I must become as a leader, but it is about who we all must become in our pilgrimage together. And it is about finding peace in the mystery of it all.

I previously thought that at this point I would be setting down my pack, unlacing my boots, and resting after the completion of my journey. But here I am with boots still on and my pack still loaded. I’m tired, so I take a moment to care for myself. I bandage my blisters, have a bite to eat, and take a sip of water. And then, I keep going. I take my next step, and then my next. And I smile knowing that I am not alone on this journey. I never was alone.

Image Source: https://www.realsimple.com/health/fitness-exercise/hiking-benefits

This week, while listening to the wisdom of Irish peacemaker Pádraig Ó Tuama, I am faced with another realization, which is that “peace often looks like the escalation of creative conflict.” If all we’re doing in the face of conflict is trying to avoid that conflict in order to get to a point where we all agree, that is just a temporary, false sense of peace. Choosing to enter into conflict intentionally and with creativity is an act of love and a practice of peacemaking. As we do this, we must seek the truth about the other—through stories, by releasing our own assumptions and judgments about the other, and by choosing to see the humanity of the other. Reconciliation can only happen where there is truth.

Peacemaker Denise Bradley from the Corrymeela Community suggests that we ask the question “what is happening?” rather than “what is wrong with you?” for this allows us to listen with our hearts. It highlights our interconnectedness and the reality that we are experiencing the conflict in different ways. It paves a way for our stories to be told, and our stories to be heard.

This is a lot. It is one thing to listen to the wisdom of leaders and discuss it with this cohort of peacemakers who have become dear friends. What does this look like in “real life,” though? What does this look like in my own church where our congregation is divided, hurting, and where the Covid-19 pandemic is literally separating us from one another? How do we experience the vulnerability of community when we can’t even see each other? How do we experience the vulnerability of community when we choose not to see each other? How do we hear the story of the other when we refuse to listen to the other? When we fail to see the other as a bearer of the image of God? As beloved?

Rather than rush to find the answers, I am choosing to slow down, to breathe, and to not fear the discomfort of tension. Perhaps this is where restoration is to be found.

Image Source: https://lorenzoquinn.com/portfolio-items/tension/

The answer to this pressing question seems more distant to me right now. Rather than moving on this pilgrimage toward “the vulnerability of community,” it feels like my church congregation is suddenly and painfully falling apart at the hands of fear, control, and the failure to see the image of God in one another. And yet, today I feel peace. I don’t know exactly why, but I choose to slow down, be still in this peace, and receive it as the gift that it is. I wonder how many times I have rushed right past gifts such as this one in my eagerness to “arrive” somewhere or to “accomplish” something in my peacemaking journey. Today, I slow down.

In Module 3 of Journey of Hope, we explored what it looks like to move from interfaith dialogue to interfaith peacemaking. Today’s leg of our pilgrimage began with Maha Elgenaidi, a Muslim woman who is dedicated to the work of combating Islamophobia. I have studied Islam and Christian-Muslim interfaith relationships before, but while listening to Maha, I was struck by the reality that we will not overcome Islamophobia until we address anti-Blackness, and that we are struggling with the current racism problem because of the white-centric way in which history is taught. Next, Sikh advocate, Gurwin Ahuja discussed the importance of recognizing our common humanity over any of our religious differences, as well as the need for us to hold space for open conversation and potential disagreement. Finally, mediator and Anglican Priest Liz Griffiths highlighted the importance of engaging in interfaith dialogue with curiosity rather than assumptions.

After today’s leg of our peacemaking pilgrimage, I am struck with the somewhat uncomfortable realization that I am learning more about what it looks like to follow Jesus from these non-Christian leaders than from my own faith community at this time. I see these faith leaders, as well as my own Muslim friends, reflecting the love and mission of Jesus more than I see from many Christians right now. And with that realization, I feel a refreshing sense of freedom to engage with, listen to, walk with, and learn from people of other faiths where I may have felt a hesitation before. I recognize the liberating love of Jesus which is big enough to embrace all of humanity. This is a freedom I hope my own church congregation can experience. And so, our journey continues.

Image Source: https://www.happify.com/hd/how-to-slow-down-time/

This Journey of Hope continues with Module 2, and something is beginning to shift. I am starting to recognize the presence of a weight that I have been carrying, a weight that has become a part of me, a weight that I didn’t even realize was with me, for I have been carrying it for so long. And this weight is slipping. It is still heavy upon me, but it feels different, maybe even a bit lighter. In the same way, this urgency that I have felt to help my church move from the comfort of power and control to the vulnerability of community is also shifting, slipping, changing.

During this Journey of Hope gathering, Canon Sarah Snyder talked about the journey from conflict to reconciliation, and she told of the ways in which conflict can burden faith leaders. She shared from Conflict and Reconciliation in Churches by Sandra Cobbins about a group of clergy who were severely impacted by conflict within their congregations, and that while these clergy thought that they just needed to be more organized, the reality was that “they also needed to be equipped to deal differently with the destructive and unhealthy behaviors in the parish,” for those were the things that were draining them of energy and their personal time. These faith leaders needed to care for themselves and address their own wounds in order to be better equipped to lead their congregations. Canon Sarah Snyder reminded us that “our ability to love others is deeply connected to our ability to love ourselves.” Is this what is happening with me? In my effort to try to help move my own congregation with love, am I neglecting to love myself?

Father Adam Bucko then spoke on the importance of monastic spirituality and contemplation, and that it is through the inner transformation that we will be able to show up as a healing and reconciling presence in our own communities. Again, have I been working so hard on trying to help move and guide my church that I have failed to care for myself? And how can I be a part of the reconciliation in my own church if I am holding on so tightly to something that, ultimately, I even don’t have the ability to control? I love my church. I have been at my church for almost my entire life. But I am holding on so tightly that it hurts. So, I start to loosen my grip, and when I do, I feel that weight shifting. I sense the beginning of a release of control, the beginning of reconciliation. I sense peace.

Image Source: https://www.tripsavvy.com/basic-types-of-climbing-handholds-755334

On this first day of the Journey of Hope, Bart Tarman shared a bit of his sacred experience walking El Camino de Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Bart explained that this journey was both physically and mentally challenging, for he had chosen to put himself in an uncomfortable experience of dislocation. Gradually, he found himself leaving the missional mindset of needing to do things, and the slow, steady pace of his walk allowed him to catch up with God and even to catch up with himself. Is this what the Journey of Hope pilgrimage would be for me? For us? How do I reconcile this tension between slowing down to catch up with God and the urgency of the suffering that is taking place now?

After our initial gathering with the Journey of Hope cohort, I met with Jer Swigart for a time of reflection and processing. I shared with Jer my struggle with how to help my church that is very comfortable in its whiteness become a church that sees the suffering in our community and works to disrupt systems that cause that suffering. And then, Jer asked me, “Yes, and who must you become as a leader to help navigate this shift?” Who must I become? All this time, my focus has been on trying to get my church to change, but I had failed to recognize the change that needed to take place within myself. 

So, I tie the laces on my hiking boots, lift my heavy pack upon my back, and I begin to walk. I do not know the destination of this Journey of Hope pilgrimage, but I look forward to following Jesus on the way.

Image Source: https://www.cnn.com/2021/10/27/cnn-underscored/best-hiking-boots/index.html