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Dear Ones – Again, SOOO much appreciation for your kindness the past couple weeks. My husband thinks maybe I should have made public that we like Door Dash years ago. But mostly both of us have felt so warmed by the prayer we can feel surrounding us right now. A couple people have asked if they can pray with me for a specific kind of miracle at this time. The answer to that is “yes,” but I’d like to share a little bit more about what kind of miracle I’d like to use this time praying for with you.
What I’d like to share comes from the morning of October 7 shortly before I found myself in the emergency room. I had come in from a walk where I’d spent the previous half hour circling the block pondering how to best respond to an organization for whom I did not have a good answer. Through no fault of their own, this organization was facing a genuine financial and future-planning pickle. The institutions they resource are in danger of losing all sorts of funding that helps them live their Catholic mission unless they will agree to stop educating about some core Catholic social principles and stop integrating those principles into their own practices.
As I was waiting for water to boil for tea, I began to see square pictures and then short You-Tube-like commentators out of the left side of my vision, related to not only the struggles of this particular organization but the struggles of soooo many of the dioceses and religious communities and faith-based organizations I’ve been partnering with for years now to talk about questions related to truth and the righteous use of power and what healthy dialogue around disagreements look like. I started to cry because I was overwhelmed—not so much by my own sadness and anger at what many of the people trying to do truly good work in the world right now are facing, but out of a sense of God’s immense sadness and anger. It is a degree of sadness and anger that I only think we’ve heard about before when reading the prophets of the Old Testament.
This sensation on the left side of my head did dissipate after a couple minutes, and I don’t think anyone got hit by a divine lightning bolt during that time. But when I tried to sit down and write about what I’d experienced I had a super hard time writing complete sentences, especially with words spelled correctly. (And, hey there! I have been a spelling bee champion since 5th grade!) So, I tried calling my husband who was—I’m sure you’ll find this shocking—less concerned about God’s wrath in the moment and more concerned I get to the emergency room. He does work for a hospital after all, and it turns out there was a good medical reason I was experiencing what I was experiencing.
But this doesn’t mean that there wasn’t still a spiritual dimension to the experience as well. Just because one has a brain tumor doesn’t mean God can’t still communicate through it. What I sensed at that time was a very clear ask from God whether I would be willing to embrace whatever came next as a way of offering my life on behalf of the salvation of my country. And what I said in that moment was “yes.”
For a good number of years now, I’ve been increasingly concerned about what leadership looks like in our church and in our society at large. I knew I had my own weaknesses as someone in a small leadership role in graduate theological education and it was what led me to first talk to leaders I thought healthier than myself, and begin to work on Redeeming Administration. Over the past two decades, healthy and holy leadership has remained a passion of mine for the good of the world. I am convinced we can never become the world in general that God dreams us to become without people who love the world the way God loves the world and are willing to give themselves over to that big picture.
Over these years I have met truly so many good people giving their lives for that mystery Jesus called the Basileia tou Theou…a.k.a. the Reign of God… a.k.a. the vision of what the world would look like if God’s intention for it were to be realized. Over these years, however, I have also observed and even encountered an increasing number of people finding ways into leadership roles—including significant, significant, significant leadership roles—who have none of the dispositions necessary to exercise these roles in a way that actually serves God’s people. When I say none, I do mean that. None. As a result, we suffer. The poor and outcasts who God loves in a most particular way suffer even more. And God grieves. God grieves deeply. I do not sense as a church right now that we have any idea how deeply God is grieving the state of our country. If we did, we would be saying much more and doing much more collectively.
But it is hard because so many of us are trying to do the best we can do. It is hard to do things collectively for the good when there is so much distrust and hurt and downright confusion among us. It is also hard because whatever we do try often feels like it makes zero difference. I don’t know if it helps to hear this or not, but I myself feel that way on a regular basis and this past year has been the worst of all. I’ve kept having groups call me and ask me to give a talk about being a “pilgrim of hope.” (Thanks a lot, Pope Francis.) And what I’ve want to say in each of those circumstances is “You have reached the wrong person. I write about truth. People who are into looking at truth are not feeling a lot of hope right now.”
Now, of course, I don’t say this in the end. And I could give you good reasons why hope and truth are totally intertwined. I’m not going to do that right now. My only purpose now is to say that
- I do feel alarmed and discouraged just as much as you…maybe more. (If you have not listened to this song by Jon Guerra that I posted earlier this year, you've missed the most important thing I've told you about what this year has been like for my soul.)
- It is the reason why from the core of my being I said “yes” to what I heard God asking of me in my brain disaster/spiritual vision (What really are we going to begin to call this thing when we talk about it unto the future?)
I think that in the past I thought God was asking me to work really, really hard to try to make the world a slightly better place. To give all my time, all my talent, all my energy. What became clearer in that October 7th moment and has remained clearer ever since is that this is neither going to be enough, nor is it required to be. We find ourselves at a moment in history that is beyond what we ourselves are going to be able to save, fix, heal, mend…. But we also live at a moment in history (like every moment in history, I suspect), where God says, “I’ve got this. Will you just make an offering of yourself to the bigger Basileia that I will still be able to bring about, even though it looks like the two are totally disconnected?”
And it does look like they are totally disconnected. There is no way that me laying inside an MRI machine suppressing claustrophobic fear in any way, shape, or form could possibly help a child whose parents were taken away by ICE today, and yet God says “make of your time in this crazy machine a gift and put it in my hands right now and watch what I can make happen.” There is no way that letting go of my beloved Sunday morning atrium session could be for the good of those children or my soul, but God says, “Will you make this loss a gift to me to pick up and carry forward somehow?” There are about 50 more things I could name. I won’t. I’m sure you can imagine them. All I want you to know is that I have every confidence that God is asking this of me right now and maybe wants to use the daily seemingly unrelated gifts you are making right now to also do amazing things in the world. Like we are being invited into this moment together.
I am attaching here notes from a talk I gave several years ago during Lent for a parish in St Louis, MO related to this topic. When I wrote it I obviously had no idea the topic would mean so much to me right now, but it does again. How amazing is that? Can you read it and see what you think? It’s a little heavier theologically, a little longer than what I’ve said here so far. It includes a bunch of comments from a conversation with 9-12 year olds. Maybe it will feel like more than you are looking for right now, but maybe it will speak to you, too. Does it mean anything to you this week, alive in this world at this time?
The next time I write—which I hope to be in another week—I think I want to say a little more about the Basileia Tou Theou that God is inviting us into because it is soooooo much more beautiful and satisfying and joyful than what U.S. culture as a whole is suggesting would help us feel satisfied and happy. But give me a little time to find decent words for that because I am about to start some sort of treatment for glioblastoma this week. It just isn’t pinned down what that will be yet. When that is clearer, for those of you who are interested in medical details, my siblings will also say a bit more in Caring Bridge but there isn't anything new up there quite yet.
So what is the miracle I want you to join me in praying for this week?
- That we as a nation might have a more authentic picture of what God’s dream for our country might look like and leaders who share a love for that vision… and maybe would even be willing to give their lives for it?
- That whatever treatment choices we make these next couple of days really are the ones that would be best for me and that whatever my reactions are to them be as good as they possibly could be. (I am not someone who historically manages nausea great, so I’m a little scared about that right now in particular.)
I’m not really able to take phone calls or voice messages right now and am not doing great with receiving texts. I totally welcome cards in the mail and also emails. It helps me if the font is at 18 point fonts because it is easier for me to read. I might not be able to reply, at least right away, but that in no way means that I didn’t love hearing from you or that I can’t feel the support. I can. Know I’m also praying for you, and also fine if you share this news/newsletter with whoever you think might find it meaningful.
Love you all dearly. Ann