Dear Reader,
This past December, I rediscovered Maya Angelou’s “Continue,” from her collection, Celebrations: Rituals of Peace and Prayer. A couple of stanzas:
Continue
To be who and how you are
To astonish a mean world
With your acts of kindness
Continue
To dare to love deeply
And risk everything
For the good thing
Sometimes it’s difficult to continue. December brought crushing deadlines, travel exhaustion, and critics descending on the Presbyterian Outlook like a choreographed flock of honking geese. One accused me of being “timid” on climate change. Another complained about us reposting older, still relevant content on social media. (A digital strategy all publishers use to not get buried by Facebook algorithms.) “Do better,” he said.
I needed a break and was fortunate to get one over the Christmas holiday. I’m also planning a week of study leave in January where I’ll read and write a lot…and sleep.
It is a privilege to have a job that affords me time to step away from the daily grind and recharge. Many people—maybe you—must “continue” without breaks from the overwhelm and exhaustion of their lives.
Still, when the work to which I feel called gets hard, it’s tempting to opt out. I want to clap back at the critics, opting out of my call to treat others with love and respect. I want to throw the covers over my head, burrow in comfort and safety, and opt out of my call to take necessary risks. I want to find a job in a quiet cubicle, opting out of my call to the public and the pulpit.
When I became the editor of the Outlook, people told me I’d need a thick skin. But “thick skin” suggests unfeeling, insensitive, perhaps even numb. That’s not who I feel called to be. Sure, I can’t be fragile. But I want to lead with courage, which I understand as open-hearted, authentic, sensitive to the needs of others, willing to listen and admit mistakes.
Maya Angelou’s poem reads like a pastor’s charge and benediction at the end of a worship service. Her beautiful words remind me of all I would miss if I did opt out, or if I chose to not “continue.” I’d miss astonishing acts of kindness that make a real difference in the world. I’d miss chances to love deeply and be deeply loved. I’d miss the good things that come when we dare to take necessary risks: personal growth, surprise discoveries, meaningful work, new relationships, wonder, awe, hopeful possibilities.
I’m wrapping her words around my head and heart as I gather my courage to head into this new year with all its challenges and opportunities. And I offer them to you, too, as a New Year’s blessing.
May we all find the courage to continue.
Recent writing:
In this lectionary reflection, I write about what scientists have discovered about the unique emotion of awe and how I experience awe at Christmas.
In my editorial for the December issue of the Outlook’s magazine, Christmas is a new hope and a new beginning, not an end.
When the war broke between Israel and Hamas, I was fortunate to interview Doug Dicks, our Presbyterian mission co-worker living in Bethlehem.
In this editorial, I highlight Cole Arthur Riley’s beautiful book This Here Flesh and how wonder protects us from despair and disillusionment.
Books I’m loving:
I continue to explore speculative fiction by marginalized writers. Speculative fiction is a sub-genre of science fiction that is futuristic, but based in reality (no dragons, no Martians.) What can we can learn from the worldbuilding of these writers? What does the future look like when we take seriously the voices of those who live and survive on the margins? I recently finished Grievers, a novella by adrienne maree brown, who has been celebrated as one of the most important voices of Afrofuturism. Grievers chronicles a mysterious plague, H-8, that is killing the people of Detroit. Dune, the protagonist, learns to survive in the city that slowly empties of its people and we, as readers, learn from Dune. Grievers is the first of a two-part series.
In my preparation to lead a virtual workshop on “How to Tell a Story” for NEXT Church, I pulled my all-time favorite book on writing off the shelf. I return to Stephen Dunn’s Walking Light: Memoirs and Essays on Poetry whenever I need writing inspiration or a beautiful reminder of the way words can stir contemplation, shape experience, evoke feeling, or enlighten us to our meaning and purpose. Dunn is a poet, but his words also resonate with me as a writer of sermons, editorials and essays. In the opening essay, “Bringing the Strange Home” Dunn writes that poetry isn’t popular in the United States because our culture privileges “acquisition over contemplation, the celebration of things more than matters of the soul.” Yet, he writes, we are also “hungry for meaning in [our] lives, in need of poetry, yet unaware of it.” Dunn believes in writing (and helping others write) poetry that offers us “something we can believe about ourselves and the world, or … something that will provoke or suggest contemplation about ourselves and the world.” Dunn names my longings as a reader and the experience I aspire to offer as a writer.
I’ve been studying adaptive leadership as a way to tackle complex problems. The Practice of Adaptive Leadership by Heifetz, Grashow and Linsky is the BIG book on this concept of leadership. But I also enjoyed When Everyone Leads: How the Toughest Challenges Get Seen and Solved as a more accessible primer. According to this model, leadership is a practice, not a position. Everyone can grow in their leadership skills. When more people exercise leadership, more progress becomes possible and more problems get solved.
Upcoming speaking:
Saturday, January 28: Preaching and speaking about Necessary Risks at Finley Memorial Presbyterian Church, Stuarts Draft, VA
Thursday, February 8: “How to Tell a Story” 90 minute virtual workshop for NEXT church at 1:00pm EST. Register here.
Sunday, March 17: Preaching and speaking about Necessary Risks at Burke Presbyterian Church, Burke, VA.
Sunday, May 19: “The Injustice of White Silence” Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, IL, adult education class; 11:00am in the Borwell Dining Room.
Let’s connect!
Is your book club or church reading Necessary Risks? Are you planning an educational event for your church, presbytery or synod that aligns with the theme of Necessary Risks: Challenges Privileged People Need to Face? I’d love to get you and your group on my schedule—just hit reply to start talking or contact me by clicking here.