This is a time to trust, to expand,

to put down roots, to get our hands dirty -

a time to keep on going/one foot in front of the other -

boldly, with confidence, not doing what we do because

well, “we have always done it that way”.

It’s a time for being conscious -

a time for transforming.

Every year as we approach our annual beach & baptism day, I begin wondering what new connections this ancient ritual will stir up. Because I (along with my faith) continue to be under construction, there is always, always some new way of seeing that springs to life. I wrote a little about this in preparation for the last time we stood on a sandy shoreline to celebrate baptism together.

This year, I’ve been drawn to the beautiful blessing above by Jan Richardson. In it, she echoes the often underemphasized, but tireless message of scripture and of any meaningful spirituality: beloved is where we begin.

Under construction. If you are driving in almost any direction around our city, there’s a good chance you’ll encounter these words disrupting your well-planned route.  Recently I saw them warning cars not to venture down a neighborhood street where a long-awaited drainage problem was being addressed. 

Everything was such a mess. The entire street had been torn up to make room for the new, necessary pipes. 

This kind of work is so inconvenient, and yet it seems like any real repair, any lasting change requires digging beneath the surface. Not only is this kind of project disruptive, but it almost always takes longer than anticipated. 

From the beginning, The Well has been shaped by the idea of church as a journey (or movement) vs. church as a destination. Instead of church-shoppers who are searching for a well-oiled machine with the best music, preaching, and programs in town, we tend to draw people who are ready for something a little less polished & a little more stripped down & scrappy. We tend to draw those who value questions and can tolerate unfinished stories - people who are learning that healing and change come more often through discomfort, not through tying everything up with a bow.

Church as journey has looked like … [click on image to continue reading]

I’ve belonged to spiritual spaces that required I forget my body – my Black, woman, sick body — to survive. I want the liturgies of…any spiritual encounter, to make me more whole, never dismembered…Will we breathe together? Relax our shoulders, unclinch our jaws? For the divine is just as present in our breath, in our flesh, as in our mental realm.

—Cole Arthur Riley, Black Liturgies

As I arrived at a vacant lot before our Palm Sunday gathering, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. It was the 4th Sunday of the month which is a “Church in the Wild” day for us. This one felt a little different though.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. As you probably know by now, we learned in January that the beloved brewery where we’d been hosting our Sunday gatherings was closing. Since then we’ve been following a crazy little Wind that seemed to be blowing us in an unlikely direction.

Instead of leasing or buying a building, after years of sharing space, we were here on this vacant piece of land to begin creating space together. “Begin” is not really the right word though. Well community participant & founder of Overalls Farm, Nathan Ballentine [aka Man in Overalls] says it better than I could - this is what he shared on social media earlier this week:

We have been members of Overalls Farm for the past few years and our favorite season by far is tomato time. There is nothing like the taste of fresh-off-the-vine cherry tomatoes! I just wish tomato time lasted longer. We are always sad to see that season come to an end and to watch as the sun-dried, shriveled-up vines are plucked up to make room for something else to grow.

It reminds me that letting go is an unavoidable part of farm life and an unavoidable part of our lives, too.

Here is what the kingdom of God is like: a man who throws seeds onto the earth. Day and night, as he works and as he sleeps, the seeds sprout and climb out into the light, even though he doesn’t understand how it works. It’s as though the soil itself produced the grain somehow—from a sprouted stalk to ripened fruit.

– Mark 4:26-28, The Voice

I wish I could tell you I was savvy enough to come up with today’s text on my own. Instead, though, Mark 4 (a text about farming) was slated for today before I knew we would be having a conversation about partnering with Overalls Farm to share space. These strange little alignments have been happening a little more often lately.

Because everything is so condensed in the gospel of Mark, it’s hard to tell exactly how long this growing group of fishermen, tax collectors, crowds and critics had been following Jesus. By now though they are noticing something is quite different about this Rabbi. Unlike other rabbis, Rabbi Jesus came to them and invited them to join him. He also can’t seem to stay in one place very long. He is constantly on the move and he is also going about this kingdom-building business all wrong.

A few weeks ago, a family passing through from North Carolina stopped by to attend one of our Sunday gatherings at Hyperion. Like most people who hear about a church that meets in a brewery, they were curious. It was a typical day where we explored a story from scripture, gazed at a piece of art together, and heard a from-the-heart story shared by someone in our community. As this family prepared to hit the road, the mom of the group stopped to tell me how much they enjoyed the morning. She likened us to “a recovery community that meets in a bar”. Exactly, I thought, and inside I must admit I beamed with pride. I’ve always hoped we’d be a place where people can bring their real selves and be both supported and challenged on our healing journeys (although admittedly, a brewery is not always the safest place for our friends who are in recovery). [click image to continue reading]

“Be patient with yourself. But start.”

– Sarah Arthur & Erin Wasinger, A Year of Small Things

“Here is another way to see Creator’s good road,” he said. “It is like a man who plants seed into the earth. Day or night, awake or asleep, the seed grows without the man knowing how or doing anything.

–Mark 4:26-27, First Nations Version

[click on image to learn about our upcoming gathering series]

We may not rest to be more productive, but I do find that rest makes me more alert, aware & more in tune with myself, with Spirit & with what’s Important. As someone who can get caught up in responding to the urgent, I need the recalibrating that rest can bring.

Since The Well started, rest has been an important part of our rhythm of life. Each 5th Sunday, instead of hosting a gathering, we invite everyone to receive the gift of rest.

Over the last few days, we’ve had several opportunities to show up & share food & gifts.

On Thursday night, some of us gathered on Overalls Farm for a Neighborhood Commons (NC) holiday potluck & white elephant gift exchange. Our last meeting, my first one back after sabbatical, felt a little life-less. We were a weary bunch. Everyone was either tired or frustrated or feeling under the weather. [click on image to continue reading]

For the past 3+ years, The Well has hosted a Racial Justice Learning + Action Group. This group has gathered monthly for conversation, learning & mutual support in our efforts to confront racism in & around us, and has had a deep impact on our life together. Mae Beth Ragland, one of this group's facilitators was asked to share some reflections and an invitation.

On Sunday, we celebrated the past year of The Well’s life together. Given our tendency - my tendency - to race toward what’s next, it’s easy to skip the pause that helps us see what’s been quietly unfolding without our even noticing it. I’m so glad we stopped to see just how much connection, creativity and care has been flowing through our little community. As we listened to the variety of voices who shared and heard about some shifts and new possibilities stirring, I was reminded that as individuals and as a community, we are always in the making… [click on image to continue reading]

According to Father Richard Rohr, “The great task of religion is to keep you fully awake, alert, and conscious. Then you will know whatever it is that you need to know. When you are present, you will know the Presence. It is that simple and that hard. Too much religion has encouraged you to be unconscious, but God respects you too much for that.”

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

—Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.

— Simone Weil

We have spent the whole last year around a theme of reimagining faith, life together & a better way of being human here - and it was in stopping all of the planning & doing that I received a crash course.

To be human is to recognize what is enough.

Being mortal not only means we will die, it implies

our time,

our bodies,

our energy &

our attention are limited.

[Art: Communion of Saints by Elise Ritter.]

What a fun weekend of being reunited with our beloved Well community! It wasn’t just Kevin & I who were welcomed back from sabbatical; some who had been traveling most of the summer also returned just in time to enjoy a weekend of camping, exploring & just being together.

Beautiful space was created …

Sabbath is not merely the pause that refreshes. It is the pause that transforms.

- Walter Brueggemann

On sabbatical, we spin a cocoon around ourselves - a protected place for disintegration in order to find re-integration eventually.

- Ruth Haley Barton

The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you

Don’t go back to sleep.

- Rumi