In the midst of all the changes at Life Together, we have also been affected by a little-known transition that has evoked Halloween-level frights at the Diocese of Massachusetts' headquarters: office renovations. My diocesan colleagues have been abuzz since the summer about renovations to the fourth and fifth floors of the diocesan offices, including the cozy office and cubicle Life Together has called home since our move out of 40 Prescott in 2020. Shortly after Orientation, I finally got the word I had been dreading: we needed to pack up our spaces by the end of the week. So I wrapped my portrait-sized Mary Magdalene and Christ icons in strips of bubble wrap, where they will eventually return from the storage tomb to resurrected office glory. We don't know exactly what to expect when the renovations are over, though we are trusting that the freshly painted walls, gender-neutral restrooms, and reconfigured office spaces will ultimately make the building more comfortable and values-aligned.
Preparing for a sabbath year is a bit like office packing. Since Orientation, we have been standing in the metaphorical office, looking around at our stuff and figuring out where to start. In the case of the Discernment Team, this means defining the process for the next several months, as the necessary precursor to forming a team. Though that takes time-- sometimes more time than I would like-- failing to get that clarity at the outset will ultimately make the work ahead even more difficult. Our fellows just completed their Transformative Teams workshop, postponed after a fellow and trainer came down with COVID during Orientation. And as all our alumni who have been through that workshop know, taking the time to define shared purpose, norms, and roles can mean the difference between a strong team and a waste of everyone's time.
We are busy packing and preparing for the new thing, laying the groundwork for an unknown future. Life Together isn't alone in this, of course. The Diocese is renovating its offices in the midst of a bishop transition. The Episcopal Service Corps program directors met earlier this month and spent time talking about new ways of doing this work on a broader level. Some days, it is hard not to feel a little overwhelmed by all the transitions and unanswered questions. But I am energized by the notes of encouragement and excitement about what is next that I have received from so many of you. I am hopeful when I read reflections like the one offered in this newsletter by Emmaus fellow Margaret Walker, sharing their own energy for this discernment. And I am grateful for those who have come alongside us in this year, especially new Prayer and Wellness Partner Lydia Strand ('13-'15), who bring so much insight and care to this community. We are in this together, finding the path forward together, and that gives me hope.
Being in this together also gives me a measure of hope in light of war and the deepening humanitarian crisis in Gaza and Israel. Last night I joined the Diocese of Massachusetts' online prayer vigil, responding to a call from Archbishop Hosam Naoum of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem for fasting and prayer by all in the Episcopal community. In the Zoom room, I saw Life Together fellows. I saw diocesan colleagues I had worked with over the years. I even saw quite a few parishioners from my site placement when I was a fellow back in 2009-2010. And even as we prayed and lamented together, it reminded me that we aren't alone. That in the stillness of prayer together, we can discern our collective call to work toward a just peace in the land of the Holy One. In this season of lament, transition, and fear, I pray that we find those spaces to discern together, to act together, to love together. And at Life Together, we will continue forming young leaders for such a time as this.
Fellow Reflection: Margaret Walker
The year is turning, in more ways than one. Despite the unseasonal warmth, the mass gatherings of geese and the golden locust leaves have made it clear that Autumn is approaching. The familiar, new smell in the air reminds me, too, that this time of year has been honored across time and space as a “thin place” of liminality, transformation, and deepening.
Life Together is in a bit of a strange season as well, both in the short and long term. Our cohort has started to settle in, and over the course of the last few months I have been deeply grateful to witness the cascade of small moments that have led to us becoming a community. The bursts of laughter or singing I hear from across the house have become part of my daily routine, and have brought me such joy. I also am aware of the ways in which this year is positioned in the life of Life Together, as we prepare for the upcoming Sabbath. We can expect that a time of reflecting, processing, and intention is ahead, yet there are so many unknowns underlying it all. Looking even more broadly, as we as Humans contend with various crises on both sociopolitical and environmental scales, all of us seem to be inhabiting a place of uncertainty and transition. In recognizing the convergence of all these places of liminality, I feel a calling to reflect more deeply on what it might mean for me to be a part of this Season. And that has led me to wonder also what God might be revealing about my/our role within the times we are in more broadly, in Life Together and in the world. What a holy opportunity, to be rooted in legacy, embedded in the networks that have been built, while also living into the joyful, challenging questions of new relationships, of new possibility, of radical change.
Although there is great meaning to be found in these times, I do not want to discount the grief, rage, and lament of all that is not right. Contending with the vast amount of change and disconnection can often be exhausting and discouraging. A quote that I came across in February, which is now posted at the top of the stairs in the Sacred Grove, has been particularly grounding for me as I have navigated the compounding layers of liminality:
“To live a lifetime of audacity, dwelling in the place where joy meets justice, year after year, can only be sustained by being so in love with a vision of what’s possible that we no longer flirt with despair”
– Aurora Levins Morales
In the past I have most definitely tended towards despair when I imagined what my/our future might hold, and that is one part of what led me to decide to join Life Together– I felt unequipped to face the impending crisis I was anticipating and wanted to quickly deepen my relational and community organizing skills. In a twist of irony, I have discovered, throughout my time here, a way of living that truly does give me hope that we as a species can transform towards something more life-giving for all of us. In other words, when I gather in community and see the ways we strive to show up in the world, I am sustained by that loving possibility of joy and justice. Life Together for me is a place where I/we can practice living into those ways of being and visions of liberation now, not just theoretically but in our actions. In these ways, I can see this Season as a bountiful space to imagine, discern, practice, and create a new way of life, together.