Negotiating Care: Rabbi Neil Blumofe

Neil Blumofe serves as the Senior Rabbi of Congregation Agudas Achim in Austin, Texas.  He has smicha from JTS and the Academy for Jewish Religion - Los Angeles, and cantorial investiture from JTS. He is a deft improviser, schooled in the dynamics of jazz performance. In his studies, he is interested in how music informs our cultural, national, and religious identities.   

As your community transitioned online, did you try unique things? What worked? What did you learn?

We did a full pivot because we hadn’t been doing anything online, certainly not recording or filming our Sabbath services, so it was all unexplored territory. We really tried to have an engaging service, using the chat in a way that would help people feel that they were a part of the service in real time. It was a challenge encouraging people that this [shift] was okay and was something that they could successfully do. Sustaining it over months in terms of Zoom fatigue, especially as the worst of the pandemic lifted. It’s hard to maintain a relevance that feels exciting to people. We’re doing the best we can as we start slowly gathering in person. Everything has been layers of discovery.

In what ways did you see your community be resourceful and creative in meeting needs? In what way did their faith rise to the occasion?

One way has been with inreach work; helping see each other and responding, whether that means addressing loneliness or something specific like food or a job or getting a vaccine. We created small support groups that get together to provide support to each other. God has moved in this way. People feel that their needs are being taken seriously by those around them. That is something we had always talked about but never done, that’s been really great. 

This has also been an opportunity to imagine what comes next and how to get there. Trusting that resources will arise as opposed to putting all your eggs in one basket. I feel that has been one thing about this period that’s important.

Are there any unexpected lessons your community or you as a faith leader learned?

We can’t take our community for granted. There are a lot of forces working on us to pull us apart, antagonize us against each other, politically and otherwise. When people are scared and alone they may try to connect the dots in a way that may not be rational to someone else. The ability that we as faith leaders have to be an absolute good in people’s lives is something that I don’t take for granted and has become more clear to me.

What do you think people of faith need to be especially mindful of as we emerge from the pandemic?

That people are in very different places. I’ve seen it said that we’re all in the same storm but in different boats. I preached on that back in April and I feel that acutely. We don't really know what is going on with people as they adjust. There has been damage and casualties; people don't know how to talk to each other; others may have excuses why they don't come anymore. We’ll gingerly explore how to reclaim the joys of sacred community.

I hope that as we emerge, we would continue to notice when we are going a hundred miles a minute. That we slow down and take time to check in about those radical concerns that people have, to lift each other up, to have patience with someone who is in a different place and struggling. I hope we retain these best practices that we’ve begun to develop. 

What do you hope that your faith community will remember about this season in five or ten years?

The opportunity to do better, to prioritize our lives in terms of what we do. To reflect on “who I am” and “what do I need in my life;” to consider what causes joy or contentment and connection as opposed to “I need to make my money.” I think there’s a real opportunity to dial that back a little. And, ironically, not to rely on the internet so much, in order to live a more fulfilling and flourishing life. I hope the patterns will have been interrupted.

Just curious, how did the forced isolation affect your personal spiritual life or your relationship with God or yourself?

I’ll tell you, my kids were home and my wife, so we had lots of activity. All of our schedules overlap various parts of the day; we have a new puppy along with our dog. I wasn’t lonely, I was actually fatigued. There were a lot of interruptions working there, so I spent a lot of time at the synagogue, working to take care of the needs within the community as they arose.

Trying to find the balance of caring for myself and others allowed me to see how fragile everything really is. To try to do things not by quantity but rather to make genuine connections with people. I realized I was pushing myself at a pace that was too much. So I took a month off that was really needed because I felt depleted. There is still a lot to be done before everything is solved and I wanted to be as fresh as possible. Demands on me as a faith leader were exponentially greater during the pandemic than prior to it. We built a technological base from scratch; helping people negotiate their various situations; the vast number of zoom meetings and presentations I didn’t want to miss. I’m shifting some of that this year in light of self-preservation. 

You didn’t ask, but what did I do for that month? I put my tent in my car and camped as many places as I could between here and Washington state. Just me by myself. My family understood that I needed to reset, to not have a schedule. It felt like a spiritual recharge, both for myself but also as a model for people in my community. Whatever boat we’re in, we have to make it the best boat possible.

Right Now

Rev. Carrie Graham is the pastor and dialogue facilitator of The Church Lab.

Dear God,

Right now I’m sitting in a quiet room in my home. My dog snores beside me. A cup of warm tea and a laptop, my phone, a prayer book, a graphic novel, gifts from my nieces and nephews surround me. On my run this morning, as the sun rose, I exchanged greetings with friendly neighbors. I’ll have fresh food for lunch today and walk my dog along safe, sunny sidewalks this afternoon.

Right now there are girls in Afghanistan who were not even alive yet on 9/11, and they are unsure of their ability to go to school anymore. There are men clinging to US Air Force planes taking off from the Kabul airport. There are US veterans who spent years of their lives watching this unfold, with heartstrings and memories and investments laid bare. There are families afraid to open the door to their homes, lest they be recognized as friendly to Americans and killed. There are Afghan-Americans who cannot get a hold of their relatives in Afghanistan because of downed cell phone towers. There is fear, fear, heartbreak, fear, unknowns enveloping the situation.

Right now there are people who were without power in Haiti before an earthquake hit. Now they have no power and are short on water supply. There is a terrible storm on the way. There is rubble to sift through, and reminders of how this has gone before.

Right now there are friends and neighbors and relatives on ventilators or waiting for hours to get infusions to help them breathe properly. Children are filling up Texas Children’s in Houston.

Right now healthcare workers are not just exhausted and burned out from the work, but also from the trauma and emotion of caring for the pandemic’s second round, which brings not only feelings of compassion fatigue but also for many frustration, anger, resentment, along with grief.

Right now there are people fleeing lack of safety in their countries and choosing wildly unsafe routes or death instead of staying in all that is most familiar to them. That is how dangerous their homes have become. They’d rather leave them forever, leave all material possessions behind. All they can do is hope for basic needs getting met, basic safety being felt for them and/or their children again one day. They choose converting from people with a home to people with nowhere to belong to. And many of them are sleeping at or near US borders.

Do I soak in gratitude that I represent the result of veterans’ work, of generations of my family’s work, as I sit here with multiple degrees and a reasonable expectation of safety today and for the foreseeable future? Yes. Yes yes yes.

Do I recognize that the circumstances and location of my birth in this world plays a role in my safety and security that just is, in the same that it just isn’t for others born in other circumstances, in other locations? Yes.

And so do I choose to ignore that millions of my sisters and brothers are, in this very moment, experiencing desperation, fear, danger, illness, oppression, hunger, as I type a post onto a social media platform with bare feet?

It feels like Jesus himself is tugging at my heart.

Praying for Your Peace which surpasses understanding for the little girl in Afghanistan tonight. For your cousin on the ventilator. For nourishment of body and soul to be with the Haitian, to be with those leaving Honduras. For the Dad to exhale who has a little boy at Texas Children’s. For the veteran to have support and connection and bolstering for her or his spirits. For the families separated by downed cell phone towers, covid visitation policies, smugglers or policy. For the Moms of the soldiers headed to Kabul right now.

With an overwhelming amount of suffering, loving God, may those of us celebrating health and peace know that we enjoy it because other nameless neighbors have helped us have it. And may You move us with great focus and clarity -don’t let us get paralyzed! – to be Your hands and feet for our neighbors near and far, to act on their behalf as Your Word instructs us. Help us do, dear Lord. Help us start somewhere and trust Your Guidance in so doing.

Amen.

Go! Be the Church!

Julie Hagen is a second-career M.Div. student at Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington D.C. and serves as Program Manager for the Office of Strategic Initiatives. Julie is a United Methodist with a background in corporate sales, non-profit management, and communications/marketing.

The last thing my Sunday school leader in Dallas said to me before I moved to Washington, D.C. in 2016 was, “Go! Be the Church.” At that point, I hadn’t discerned a call to seminary, nor did I think much about the theological implications of his statement. 

Now, as Board Chair for The Church Lab and a faith leader who is also deeply interested in how we connect more fully to each other and to God, it’s a lot easier to imagine what being the Church means. Last weekend the TCL Board and staff gathered for our annual retreat to reflect on the past year and to continue the strategic planning process. Our gathering, like much of the past 18 months, did not go as planned. What was designed as an in-real-life retreat turned into an extended Zoom call. I give thanks to each person who attended it, and can’t even explain how grateful I am for Carrie, Ollie, and our intern Julia for spending so much time preparing. As we ended on Saturday evening exhausted, we felt empowered, confident, and energized. I realize that sounds almost too good to be true, but you see, TCL’s innovative culture thrives in this environment. 

We approved a mission-centric budget that will continue to strengthen the organization operationally and have a strategic plan plan to implement over the next several months. We are continuing to identify candidates for the TCL Board and sharing how TCL is making a difference by building spiritual bridges through interfaith dialogue. Most importantly, though, we have tightened our bonds with each other. 

The TCL mission is twofold: “exploring innovative paths to spiritual maturity” and “helping the Church find her future.” I am grateful to walk on this path with the TCL community as we move into the future...together.

Spiritual Growth During Social Isolation: Imam Rizwan Khan and the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community

Imam Rizwan Khan serves as a Missionary of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community. Under the direction and guidance of the spiritual system of leadership, known as Khilafat (Caliphate), of the worldwide Ahmadiyya Muslim Community. Imam Rizwan Khan has dedicated his life to serving Islam and spreading its message of love and peace.

Was there anything unusual that arose as your community transitioned into the new forms of practice (online; outside) at the beginning of the pandemic?

A lot of our practice is defined by our scriptures to be done in a very specific way, which has been true since the very inception of Islam. To make changes under these conditions was new. One of the basic precepts of daily prayer is that its done shoulder to shoulder. That creates the brotherhood and sisterhood, and the proximity also contributes to the solidarity of the community. Islam is flexible, so it adjusted. This was the first time the prayers have been practiced with distance between us.

Also, there are certain congregational worships that are done only in the mosque. Friday prayers, for instance, are obligatory and always at a mosque. Because there is no ordained clergy, family members can be a leader of that prayer service. This is the first time that families were leading these prayers with the Arabic, delivering a sermon, reciting the verses themselves, in their homes.

How did you handle pastoral care?

You just can’t do that over Zoom. Families planned very small weddings. Interestingly, we encourage and prefer that anyway. There is a correlation between the size and expense of a large wedding and how likely it is for that marriage to fail. Materialism is discouraged in Islam; it’s not good for a community or a marriage. It was a blessing and surprise because those who got married during the pandemic started off their life together on a better financial footing.

Funerals were more difficult to maintain rules. A funeral is something that people feel compelled to attend. We had more people arrive for funeral prayers than we wanted, but we just did our best to maintain social distancing and do as much outside as we could. As far as those who got sick, the doctors within our community called on them to make sure everyone was being looked after.

How did you sense God moving and providing for your community? How did you see your community’s faith rise to the occasion?

For me, a time of separation from others, a time for reflection, was unique. Isolation is found in many faith traditions as a search for God. It was an invaluable time. Spiritually I feel I benefited a lot – personal reflection, individual worship. I noticed this in the larger community, as well. A spiritual awakening, especially during the fasting and prayers during the month of Ramadan.

It was a silver lining. It is hard for me to reconcile myself with how positive that aspect of the experience was along with the negative of what was happening in the larger society. We all had the chance to ask, “Who am I?” “What am I when you strip everything away?”

How did the apart time affect your community’s sense of solidarity? How did you maintain a sense of the whole?

Islam puts a lot of focus on social reinforcement. There is a value in meeting in person shaking hands, standing alongside. So that sense of community definitely did suffer. During the lockdown, a disconnect did happen. You can’t make that same connection online. So, the extroverts involved themselves more in text conversations and reaching out to others virtually, because there is a real absence there: something missing that we are trying to make up for through these other means. A lot of people felt that slow burn of loneliness. They had to balance their need to get out of the house with the risk involved in doing that. Even I, an introvert, only noticed when we first started regathering for meals and prayers how much I missed what had been gone.

What do you think people of faith need to be especially mindful of as we emerge from the pandemic?

There is one point specific to the Ahmadiyya community, because we have one worldwide leader. He has been reminding us during this time that injustice is rising all over the world to the point where things are becoming very fragile, and the future is uncertain. A large-scale calamity seems almost an inevitability. We have always been asked to turn away from materialism and the grind toward spirituality. It has been eye-opening for members of our community to see how unstable the worldwide economy is. Everybody can see that the world is not headed in a good direction, and we must remind ourselves to turn toward God.

What are your hopes and fears about what to retain or change going forward?

On the ground, the virtual communication. We hadn’t done that much before and we’re definitely going to retain that to the degree that they are beneficial. These resources were always there, we now see the advantages.

As far as the other changes, how we approach life, our thinking, I hope that does continue. Because when we are in a state of security, there is a different type of thinking. It seems like a different world from even five years ago. That maturity we have gained just having gone through the political instability, the economic instability, that is what teaches wisdom. This is learned through the rigors of life. We can see a broad perspective that takes the world into account and is more aware.

What do you hope your community will remember about this season in five to ten years?

I think of huge changes that happened before, like before and after World War I and World War II. When these vast changes happen, the world is never really the same afterwards. So, I hope ten years from now, that when we look back on this time, we wouldn’t have forgotten the lessons we learned. The scriptures speak about this: when a person is in a storm on a ship they agree to change, but when they arrive back to land, they forget. I see this last year as a storm where we were very vulnerable and in touch with the reality of our situation. Maybe we had a moment of clarity. In ten years, I hope it wasn’t a moment of clarity, but that this moment will have turned into a lifetime of clarity.

Faithfully Conserving Tradition: Rev. Eileen O'Brien and St. James' Episcopal Church during COVID

St. James' is a multicultural community in East Austin founded originally in 1941 by a group of students and faculty from Huston-Tillotson College. The Rev. Eileen O’Brien currently serves as the Rector of St. James’ Episcopal Church, Austin, and Board Chair for Welcome Table, Inc.

This summer, we visit with a few leaders of faith communities about how their congregations responded in real time to the changing landscape demanded by the pandemic. The first of the series is with Rev. Eileen O’Brien.

Can you describe some of the ways your congregation interacted as a group pre-pandemic? What did it look like when you gathered?

We were gathering for four services for worship, each with a different [liturgical] language, as well as small groups, Bible studies, and outreach work. For pastoral care we had a lot of person to person visits. Mostly all in-person, we didn’t do much online beyond conferencing into meetings.

At some point it became clear that this would last longer than a couple of months. How did the leadership and congregation respond?

When the bishop said on the 13th of March to go online and hopefully by the upcoming Sunday, we had anticipated that this might happen, so we moved online really quickly. We had a prerecorded service that people could call up at any time that also had a Facebook watch party so that people could participate with each other. For the smaller services, we set up Zoom-based services so that people could interact around the intercessions and the sermon, which had become more participatory. We didn’t experiment with in-person until late August.

We planned and pre-recorded a lot of music for the upcoming seasons and decided how to fit it in or decided what we could ask the harp player, for instance, to record at home. Our liturgical committee did a lot of brainstorming for fully engaging the congregation in the liturgy and attending to the liturgical calendar of Feasts and Fasts, such as renewal of baptismal vows, online. 

The House of Bishops for the Episcopal Church said no virtual communion, period. So we had to change the format of the service to a non-Eucharistic service that would still develop a feeling of communion and community. That was a primary challenge our liturgical committee struggled with: how do we do communion without the bread and the wine?

At one point, people started indicating that the services, which we had shortened at the advice of our diocese, didn’t feel like a full enough worship experience. So we filled it out more and got a really good response.

Lots of people were home alone and I imagine there was a great need for pastoral care. What did St. James’ do in that regard?

About 25 people made periodic calls to the entire congregation so we could address needs as they arose. We wanted to check in on everyone, knowing that everyone was in struggle. We did a lot of porch visits: outdoors, masked, and distanced. We worked closely with the chaplains inside hospitals and coached families on how to pray for their loved ones themselves. It was very empowering - we are all pastoral care providers! For deaths we had graveside services and online memorial services for prayer, story-sharing and music. Similarly with weddings.

Is there anything developed during this time that you feel is valuable enough and serving enough of a need that you’ll keep doing it even after a return?

Yes. During our evening service, we really developed a very robust Prayers of the People with thanksgivings and intercessions. People really hear each other's prayers more clearly. We want to import that into our physical experience. The other thing that’s been a delight in that service is the opening up of the scriptures during the sermon meditation time. Over the course of the summer we’re going to experiment with different forms of participatory sermons and a time immediately following the service to dissect the readings and respond to the sermon. We have enjoyed that as a community and everyone felt like they got a lot out of the discussion in the evening.

What surprised you the most this past year in the context of your job and your community?

One of the things I anticipated but didn’t realize what the full effect would be was about regathering in person. Ours is a multicultural community, and there are demographic and geographic patterns in the response to the idea of regathering, even with a fully vaccinated congregation. People’s pacing and comfort levels are all different. They all have different factors going on in their lives. So visitors to the congregation at this moment aren’t getting to meet many long-time members. It’s taking a while to reform our identity based on physical presence. This is an interesting thing I'm still learning about.

COVID and the Faithful Risks Pastors Have Taken

Rev. Carrie has published an article in Christian Century reflecting on her work with pastors as they navigate a quickly shifting landscape in the church and in the world.

From the article: "While the challenges for churches to survive mounted, opportunities for long-overdue changes, grew, too . . . We had been beckoned in this direction for years, but the pandemic demanded that we take risks in ministry, not just for our individual churches but for the very purpose of the church itself . . . This is a high-stakes time. Some churches need to take more creative risks than ever before, even if that risk means letting go." Read the full Christian Century article here.

Resources for Traumatic Times

We are all tired. We are also all struggling to recover from individual major stressors while returning to a long-term, on-going major stressor. Knowing ways to keep ourselves afloat is critical. Communities of color undergo multiple, repetitive stressors on a regular basis. For suggestions on how to maintain stability amid sustained trauma, Colorlines offers this collection of resources curated by Miriam Zoila Pérez: 4 Self-Care Resources for Days When the World is Terrible.

Interview with Dr. Sarita Edwards

Rev. Carrie Graham and Dr. Sarita Edwards of George Fox University

Dr. Edwards teaches World Religions at George Fox University. She and Rev. Carrie visit on the topic of interfaith dialogue, sharing information for those who may be new to the process…through some of Carrie's own early memories of dialogue! Click to watch the video here.

A Solid Foundation: Care During Trying Times

Ollie Jarvis, Pastoral Assistant to The Church Lab

Central to the work we do at The Church Lab is creating and maintaining bridges. Importantly, we focus on the bridges that cross difference. In light of our current national circumstances, with the pandemic, social justice challenge, and national strife, I would like to offer some thoughts on creating and maintaining connections to ourselves and to others: the foundation for all other bridge-building.

We are living in unprecedented times. So many things, in so many realms, seem like they aren’t going to be alright. For many of us, grief, loneliness, and stress walk alongside daily. For others, these things hide - jumping out to surprise us just when we thought we had them tackled. Sometimes it can feel as though something has broken. Myself? I often feel as though I’ve shifted into a lower gear; I’m chugging along, trying to imagine an ‘other side’ at which I, and we, will eventually arrive. I try to imagine what it will look like, just as I simultaneously walk through my sometimes boring, sometimes lonely, sometimes stressful days. 

One thing is certain. As much as we feel as though we are alone, we are, in fact, never alone. I look out of my apartment window at the complex across the street, and I know that there are individual people in each of those apartments, walking through their days just like me. I keep my friends, family members, acquaintances in my thoughts constantly. I have candles burning for those I know are actively suffering. I often try to imagine reaching out my empathetic tendrils, hoping they penetrate the walls and the distance that separate me from my fellow human beings. Hoping that they feel my care; hoping they experience the bridge.

We all reside in mystery. That mystery shelters and carries us all the time. But it is especially important to remember this fact during difficult and scary moments. Each of us has a unique contribution to offer, even from where we sit, seemingly alone. We must insist to ourselves and to the world that we know it will be okay. We must each intentionally expand our energetic boundaries to imagine a world of survival and love. We must say yes to miracles; we must say yes to joy, to wholeness, to beauty. We must say yes to love. We must consciously imagine and build the ‘other side’ we hope to emerge into. 

Here are some things I’m doing to stay present and build joyful bridges:

• I taught myself to can! Prickly pear jelly has been my favorite so far. Although I must admit the lemon curd from the instant pot was also very delicious. Not only does canning take hours, but those little jars of yummy can be left on doorsteps.

• I’ve been working jigsaw puzzles and sewing. I’m trading puzzles with friends, and sewing and gifting small projects.

• I’m using video calls in new ways: I attend a church halfway across the country; my mom and I hang out together every Sunday for a couple of hours; my bedridden friend watches me cook desserts and bake bread in my kitchen. 

• I’ve worked on my family tree. It’s helped me remember that I’m part of a larger story.

• I’ve been writing snail mail way, way more. I didn’t remember how nice it is to open the mailbox to a personal greeting.

• I go outside every day to be in the sun for at least a few minutes, if not a nice walk around the block. I'm grateful for the smiles when I encounter my neighbors.

You, just like I, can reach out your tendrils, can hold hope for those suffering, can actively create joy and hope, both for yourself, for those around you, and for the larger world. You are loved; you are unique. You have a purpose and the mystery will eternally hold you as you manifest it. 

Blessings and love as we enter a new year.

A Note to TCL's Community After the Seige on the Capitol

Dear Church Lab community, 

No doubt many of you have read and listened to numerous statements by organizations and leaders in response to the tragic, unacceptable events of January 6, 2021.  Here is a TCL angle, offered up to you in the aftermath.

Most importantly, my prayers lift up the 5 who perished, with countless others who were injured in body, mind, or spirit. It is too often in our American history that blood is shed past the point when change should justifiably have occurred. Sometimes that bloodshed still does not yield the overdue change. May this event honor those who were lost by serving as a turning point in our country. May we count ourselves among those both able and responsible for making change that would better unify, preserve democracy and refrain from resorting to violence.

May TCL lift up the physical and mental health of all involved with this terrible event.

As I think of Americans committing un-American acts, who can help but reflect on the path that led them to that moment? What is it that has been informing, building and eventually snowballing their beliefs into actions, which they perceive to be courageous behavior seeking to rescue democracy, rather than threaten it?

As a Christian, I am challenged deeply - in a gut wrenching way- in this moment to think of the way Jesus defines who our neighbor is, and to remember my faith commits me to love my neighbor, even when they may seem to be an enemy as well. May God help me in this effort, understanding loving postures can go hand-in-hand with principled actions.

As I watch my social media feeds from various circles, I see narratives to the left and to the right solidifying yet further. Certainly an act of insurrection does not surprise when its after effects include trenches being dug deeper. It is a wake up call, yes, but in many or most cases, it yields the type of wake up call you were already headed toward in the weeks and months prior. 

As such, the dangers of our internal divisions grow still.

Yet as a dialogue facilitator, I feel a sense of refuge in our community. 

I do not feel refuge because of like-mindedness. 

I do not feel refuge because the work we do as a community is inherently safe or easy. 

I feel refuge in that being part of our diverse community, in every clumsy and ongoing attempt to understand that which is different than us, this is where I believe solutions exist.  Such a place feels hard to come by these days, and what a gift it is to even know of such an environment, where hope can be harnessed toward even an increasingly unified sense of what it means to be American.

They are slow-going solutions, as there are no shortcuts. But they are transformative ones.

The tools we use and hone together in dialogue are difficult, but we see again and again that they create space for peace and understanding which we did not recognize there was even space for previously. I know that is true in my experience, getting to spend time with the caliber of people who keep coming back for more dialogue, for more peacemaking, for more bridge building, even as the noise increases, even as the lines of divisions deepen into chasms. 

Whether we build the bridge over a babbling brook or a canyon, our work is not deterred. 

It is the same skill set, which grows stronger with every conversation, with every new step we take together, with every trickling effect it has on our daily lives.

It is you whose hearts and minds and behaviors I lift up when we see flashbangs go up in a sacred institution. It is your determinedly-loving community I am thankful for when people are crying out with convictions many of us cannot understand, and which may seek to take direct aim at us, our friends, our dignity, our pursuits and progress toward equity. It is our humor, our joys and our tears I reflect upon with gratitude when I scour news sources for consistent information and come up short. (No doubt the scarcity of a more consistent public narrative is a central contributor to our chasms, particular around founts of conflict, such as what “truth” is or even could be.) It is our community that surfaces in my heart when I keep thinking, "Where do we even begin?" To then remember we already have begun, and we have begun this work together, and that the lessons from our work can be shared with others who wish to start somewhere...wow. I am grateful for the work that you do, that we engage together. 

What is TCL's recommendation for you in a moment of violence against democracy, which cannot be justified? 

Listen as far as you can.

Like a deep, hurt-so-good sort of stretch you do each morning when you rise, finding you can touch your knees and eventually your toes, please challenge yourself to listen until you reach your personal limit. Move your capacity for listening -seeking to understand before being understood- forward just a milimeter forward each day or week or month. 

You may not be in a position to understand anyone and everyone, and those limits very well may signify important and integrity-laden boundaries for you. Yet if we each build our capacity in this direction, we solidify well-laid hopes in peacemaking over time and across a spectrum of paradigms and convictions that will, one day with this hard work in tow, melt into a more singular sense of "American" again one day. 

Building our capacity for listening is not the same as condoning. 

When listening leads to deeper understanding, paired with our peacemaking work, it has the power to weave both compassion and accountability into a nation wounded by her own hands. 

Both compassion and accountability are best informed by seeking to understand the fount, the why, the how, the what that defines who we decide to be.

Listening paves a path for healing, even excruciatingly painful healing we may not initially see as possible.

Our work continues, my dear friends. 

I'm so glad to be alongside you for this worthy, unending pursuit.

-Rev. Carrie Graham of The Church Lab

Beloved Atheist Dialoguer Bedxeli Speaks with Pastoral Facilitator Carrie about TCL

Atheist dialoguer Bedxeli and pastoral facilitator Carrie share a conversation about why he finds dialogue to be a uniquely valuable experience. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

Donna and Gene, our beloved Spiritual-but-not-Religious and Jewish-ish dialoguers, chat TCL

Spiritual-but-not-Religious and Jewish-ish dialoguers Donna and Gene share a conversation about what brought them to TCL…and what keeps them there. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

The Church Lab Presents: TCL Signature Video!

TCL is proud to present a showcase of all the work we do as we explore innovative paths to spiritual growth, helping the Church to find her future! Rev. Carrie and participants in our many programs share the profound ways TCL impacts their own life and work.

Please enjoy!

Qam and Ollie, our beloved Ahmadiyya Muslim and Episcopalian dialoguers, chat TCL

Ahmadiyya Muslim and Episcopalian dialoguers Qam and Ollie share a conversation about what brought them to TCL…and what keeps them there. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

The Beloved Rev. Rob Mueller of Divine Redeemer, chats TCL!

Rev. Rob Mueller shares a conversation with us about what brought him into the TCL orbit…and what keeps him and his congregation there. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

Talking Over Turkey After the Election

The Church Lab Presents:

Anxious for Thanksgiving gatherings in the wake of our 2020 presidential election?

See below for our top ten pointers. As we practice gratitude together this Thursday, we wish you well in building bridges with loved ones!

1. Gauge Your Readiness. Gauge Others’ Readiness.

Remember nobody has to talk about anything you/they are not yet ready to talk about. Both parties need to feel emotionally prepared to attempt a difficult conversation. It’s a “mutual consent” situation. Try not to permanently avoid important talks. That said, sometimes it is important to say “Let’s wait and tackle this another time.”

What does “ready” mean? Mutually sharing the following:

• Expressing a desire to have a respectful conversation.

• Ability and commitment to listen, with an intent to understand rather than rebut

• Placing legitimacy on one another’s feelings, regardless of the reasoning for them. It is not constructive to argue over whether or not someone “should” feel a certain way. As such, these types of difficult conversations require the a person prepared to acknowledge the value of emotional intelligence, self-awareness and the ongoing work for all of us in these arenas.

2. Respect the reality of paradigmatic differences.

Be aware of how strongly we each hold on to our narratives, and that others are living according to a different script than the one in your head. None of us are exceptions to this. Oftentimes, we think if the other party just had x information, or understood more facts we have read, they would either change their minds and agree with us OR we could then officially write them off as crazy. It is almost never either of those. It is a more nuanced, less convenient reality to wonder what types of narratives and life frameworks contribute to us understanding politics, religions, etc, differently. It is a more complex conversation to attempt to understand the undercurrent of worldview more completely, but it is a truer-to-life conversation you open up in doing so.

3. Beware of monoliths.

Our political system often divides us into two political identities. We do not have to live that way or treat each other as such. Most people disagree with their own candidate on a variety of serious matters. We have a common struggle in feeling forced to pick sides, and then guffawing at the possibility that others  -when forced - go in one of the only other available options. We are complex people voting on complex policies on a very limited multiple choice platform. To this end, it may help to begin the conversation by emphasizing specific common ground you share. Compliment whatever you can about the other side, as able.

4. Proximity frames our narratives. We are most deeply shaped by experience.

City. Town. Farm. Generation. How diverse your community is or isn’t. Who your friends are or aren’t. The nature and demands of your vocation. The challenges you personally face, as opposed to those that belong only on pages of news articles and not in your daily life. Try not to underestimate how profoundly our lens is shaped by the people around us, and this is not a blameworthy offense on its own. Extend awareness toward contributors to lens tensions, and find compassion for the natural gaps that creates in viewpoints. This is NOT the same as ignorance.

Being open-minded requires an uncomfortable commitment to those to the left AND the right of you.

5. It may help to know how to get started. Draw from some of The Church Lab’s jumpstart questions for post-election dialogue. Click here for those.

6.  Remind one another that it won’t get fixed today! Sign up for our mailing list (below) to get resources to use beyond Thanksgiving dinner this year.

7. Trust is everything. Discomfort is likely a good sign. Feeling safe is vital.

Accurate information is important. However, when parties abandon even basic trust, the conversation is doomed. If someone says, “I voted for x because of y,” and the response is “No you didn’t,” then we are at Trust Ground Zero and trying to build something fruitful on top of a severely damaged foundation. Abort, abort and reschedule the convo! Back up and find a time to work on basic trust before proceeding to more advanced topics.

8. Laugh together/Cute Emergencies. Take breaks.

If you have decided you are all ready to talk, remember you are allowed to take breaks. We have luck with sharing photos of cute babies in the family or googling pictures of baby animals.

9. See if you can make some mutual commitments if politics comes up.

For example, it will help to say out loud that your relationship is more important than this conversation before you even get going. Another good example would be to commit to check yourself throughout the conversation as to if you are truly listening to understand, rather than responding out of anxiety or speaking with a veil of understanding that is (if you’re honest with yourself) really seeking to prove a point to others or yourself. This is the hardest part. Fear and anxiety will be most convenient and might feel the best to you, but are not best for all parties involved.

10. Be vulnerable.

If you are getting angry, it is likely indicative of hurts and wounds underneath. If it is safe in your family to be vulnerable, if you get riled up, ask yourself out loud what you may be afraid of. There you may find a more powerful, constructive place from which to share, and others are more likely to follow that model and let down their guard about where they’re coming from personally.

Eileen and Kolby, our beloved Conservative and Progressive Christian dialoguers, chat TCL

Conservative and Progressive Christian dialoguers Eileen and Kolby share a conversation about what brought them to TCL…and what keeps them there. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

TCL's 2020 Annual Report Has Arrived!

What a year it has been!!!

Please read through our annual report to learn about how we have been able to meet our mission in this exceptional year for all of us, both in challenges and Provision to meet them.

Reflecting on this year, we are nothing short of amazed and deeply grateful for the ways God has allowed us to be of help as a spiritual anchor in the storm, which then allows folks to meet one another’s and their communities’ needs. Thanks be to God.

For us to continue this meaningful work, we sure hope you’ll consider generously donating and become a financial partner with TCL! We are hoping to keep doing this good work in and beyond 2021, and we absolutely need your help to be empowered to do so.

Thanks for considering a monthly pledge or generous annual gift from whatever you do have to give. Every penny goes a long way in a grassroots outfit like ours! You may easily set up a donation here.

With deep gratitude for what has been and what lies ahead for The Church Lab, alongside you,

Rev. Carrie Graham

Click here to read our 2020 Annual Report!

Dash and Curtis, our beloved Pagan and Baha’i dialoguers, talk TCL!

Pagan and Baha’i dialoguers Dash and Curtis share a conversation about what brought them to TCL…and what keeps them there. Check it out!

TCL is excited to continue pursuing its bridge building mission at this crucial time. We need your help to be able to do so in 2021!

Please consider becoming a donation partner.

To do so easily, you may visit this page.

To learn more about financial partnership, please email carrie@thechurchlab.org. Thanks for considering!

Rev. Amy Meyer Talks About The Church Lab!

In this season of fundraising, Rev. Amy Meyer offers you two takes on her love for The Church Lab. With her support (and yours!), The Church Lab will continue exploring innovative paths to spiritual maturity, helping the church find her future. Our growth is quickly outpacing our current capacity! We would very much love to have you on board as we dialogue across faith traditions, support pastors doing non-traditional ministry, and conduct experiments in the changing social landscape we all currently inhabit. Please generously support our ministry and all the work we do here.