Always in the tension

Eric Paul — Wed, 28 Feb 2024 06:38:23 +0000

Before moving to Hawaii, I worked at a church in Nashville. I was the Pastor of a congregation called Emmaus Fellowship. We met in the gymnasium of a larger, mostly white commuter church. The Emmaus congregation lived within 6-8 blocks of the church and was about 50% black, 40% white, and 10% hispanic. We were made up of mostly low-income and houseless neighbors in East Nashville. While I tended to the spiritual and social needs of the congregation, I was a staff member of the larger church. Part of my role was to mediate the difference between these two disparate congregations – mostly because I knew we needed each other.

It wore me out.

I witnessed parents of teenagers at the church work to keep us from using church space. Security guards were hired to monitor entrances and hallways. Pastors would lock doors and place bars over entrances to keep Emmaus folks separated from the other church folks. In conversation with one of the youth, she confessed, “This church taught me to fear the homeless.” My friend, Old-Timer, was arrested for trespassing on church property because our church hadn’t signed a county waiver for police not to arrest folks. He was wounded – asking me a week later how his church could do this to him. Another friend (Luke) – on cold winter night – froze to death while sitting on the stairs of a church several blocks away.

I constantly struggled. Every single one of the above “happenings” required a conversation with the Senior Pastor and other pastoral staff. I was so tired – physically exhausted for having to pastor a homeless community (and all the various needs that come with it) and act as a model and prophet for other White Christians who learned to fear the poor.

Change was so slow – too slow. I wrestled with the patience it takes to exact transformation. I seemed to have infinite patience for those I ministered to – the ones who joined us on Sunday nights for a meal and liturgy. But, my patience was so thin for life-long Christians who couldn’t overcome their blindness. Anger is my base emotion – and I stewed in it with righteousness. Because of course, the over 3000 scriptural references to justice and treatment of the poor/outcasts/strangers/widows in scripture were on my side.

I think several things helped me during this time. And I’ve learned several things that I wish I had known during that time.

First, I was alone. I had a team of volunteers, but mostly, I administered/organized the liturgy/meal, and pastored throughout the week. I didn’t work on a team – I was by myself. This should never be.

Second, I did have support from the Senior Pastor. He took a long view of change and reminded me of the small transformations that were already taking place.

Third, passion goes a long way, and I was filled with it.

Fourth, I felt like was truly faithful to the call of discipleship – to be in solidarity with the poor.

I wish I had exercised every day. Seriously, nothing resets my mind, my emotions, my body like exercise. If I’m not surfing, hiking, swimming, or running 5 days a week, I’m mopey and tired. I need to move and I need to be outside.

I actually keep a list of things on my fridge. It’s a list of when I feel anxiety rise up within me (which is usually felt in a few ways: can’t sleep, shoulder/neck pain, and quickened heart rate). The list is as follows:

Play ping pong with a friend

See a movie

Read Theology

Connect with my spouse

Exercise

Call a friend

Journal

Meditate with Singing Bowl

These are my practices for dealing with the tension.

I am Earth. We are Earth. We are One. We are Many.

Bridget Holtom — Thu, 31 Mar 2022 08:29:45 +0000

I am Earth. We are Earth. We are One. We are Many.

As our brother Bayo Akomolafe shared: we are more bacteria than we are human. We have more bacterial cells than human cells. We are emergent and interconnected.

Science is suggesting what Indigenous peoples, witches and medicine men and women have known for centuries- that Earth is interconnected and alive, not separate but inclusive of us as a human animal species.

The water we drink is Ocean. Loch and River. It is blood and sweat and tears. It is Spirit and Life.

Our outbreath is the inbreath of trees and Forest.

In a less romantic but no less real or true sense, the toxins we put into our soil, air and water re-enter our own systems. The plastics we wear and use everyday are all part of and (try to) return to Earth.

And at the same time, we have co-constructed and constantly contribute to complex human-centric systems such as capitalism, colonialism and consumerism. We are complicit in our conflict with Earth, at war with ourselves. Even though we may not want to be. What a bind we are in. The myth of individualism allows us to deny this truth by letting us believe we can escape our complicity and wash away our guilt by recycling and buying green energy and planting wild flowers for bees. These are important actions but not if moral righteousness means we move further from more true reconciliation and the revolutionary, truly transformative action we need and deeply long for.

We are clogging our internal Rivers with toxins just as we are trying to clean up our external Rivers with community litter picks. This litter is then burned or buried or shipped overseas. Where it it out of sight and out of mind. In these out of sight out of mind places of our planet we are wounded and hurting. Places of neglect and abuse and exploitation. Where our human and more-than-human Brothers and Sisters are wounded and dying. Just as within our bodies, we are cutting off the parts of ourselves which are crying out for attention.

Reconciliation with Earth begins with me. It begins with my body. With reconnecting to the disassociated parts of myself, mind and this soft mammalian body. For me reconciliation with Earth began with my gut. For years I binged on sugar and salty foods and then compulsively exercised, a form of bulemia and body dysmorphia. My compulsive eating left me bloated and uncomfortable and probably in more pain than I was able to feel at the time. Somehow the human body can compartmentalise and numb on order to cope and survive. Incredible and necessary coping and survival mechanisms. Just as the human collective can turn its back on humans who are part of our collective human body. Just as part of Earth we disown and destroy ourselves. I am learning to reconnect with parts of my body and mind I was previously ashamed of. Parts that were painful or uncomfortable.

Through self-massage, herbal medicine, meditation and a mysterious more-than-human magic I am spiralling towards healing. And I have to hope and have faith that our human family are spiralling towards healing, health and wholeness as well.

Reconciliation to me means Solidarity. Solidarity to me means that those of us who are able to turn away from our collective pain turn back towards and face it, feel it, witness it and transform it if we can. And even when we can’t, which let’s face it is most of the time, we are still willing to witness our wounds and tend to them, be with those thorns we play a part in perpetuating.

I pray that we will walk together the path of peace and reconciliation, praying for a destination but experiencing the pain, discomforts and joys of the journey.

Image credit: River Don in Sheffield after floods in 2018, source Daily Mail https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5796715/amp/River-clogged-foul-smelling-sludge-rubbish-finally-cleared.html

solidarity – Leadership Cohort

Always in the tension

I am Earth. We are Earth. We are One. We are Many.