Dear Friends, 

It is cliché to say that change is the only constant in life, and yet it feels more true right now than it has for over a decade in my life. While most of us have experienced numerous changes over our lifetimes, this past year has been full of constant changes to the pattern of our daily lives. From the disinfecting of groceries to the lockdown to wearing masks to getting vaccinated, it has been non-stop change that has affected our every day. In addition to those changes to our daily patterns, some of us have had larger life changes. Some of us are now permanently working from home or lost our jobs and have new jobs or moved or experienced long-term changes to our health or became parents or lost a loved one. In the wake of so much change, what grounds us? What buoys us up to ride the waves of change? 

For me, there is something about being by the water that grounds me and nourishes my spirit. I have lived in Chicago for 16 years now. For the first 15 years, I worked in a building that was less than a 15-minute walk from Lake Michigan. I used to walk to the lake for an hour lunch break about 3 times a week.  

Then, in 2020, during the statewide pandemic lockdown, I left that job and started working full time as a chaplain resident at Northwestern Memorial Hospital and part time with UCE. I missed my pattern of spending time by the lake and it took me a while to figure out when I could walk to the lake when I was downtown at the hospital. The photo of me in a mask is by the Chicago Avenue underpass to the lakefront in November 2020.  

This fall, I am adjusting again to navigating being in-person as well as virtual at UCE, and I have not yet figured out my pattern for regularly visiting the water. I have started driving into Evanston early in my day so I have time to stop at various lakefront parks. The photo of the waves meeting the rocks is from Clark Square earlier this week. 

While there is change that happens to us, there is also change that we purposely create and cultivate. Our ability to nourish our spirit and ground ourselves – which some call a spiritual practice – is important whether we are responding to change or initiating it. A spiritual practice is one way to prepare ourselves to listen deeply to others, to be open to unexpected ideas or experiences, and to respond to challenges to our current way of thinking or acting. Having a spiritual practice, that nourishes and grounds us, will be helpful as our congregation moves deeper into the work of becoming an explicitly anti-racist organization. It will build our resilience as we continue to return to our building and practice radical hospitality to the stranger and the long-time member. It will sustain us as we become a more environmentally conscious and responsible community. These lenses of anti-racism, environmental responsibility, and radical welcome will continue to be shaped by our upcoming review of our ENDS Statements, which express who we want to be in the world. 

This work of reviewing our ENDS Statements may lead to some friction, which is a normal part of change. That rubbing of new patterns against old patterns. The rubbing of new ways of thinking and being against implicit bias. The rubbing of unexpected experiences against preconceived expectations. All of this causes friction. I was reminded this week by Dr. Gilo Kwesi Logan, one of our consultants from the YWCA’s Equity Institute, that friction in itself is not a bad thing. Friction is the tool that sharpens a knife. “It’s what we do with the friction that matters.”  

As our community cultivates change, cultivates being anti-racist, environmentally responsible, and radically welcoming, how will we use the friction to help us flourish? Can we recognize the friction for what it is and then put it to good use as a tool? A tool that helps us learn, change, and grow. A tool that helps us talk through the hard conversations with openness instead of defensiveness, with appreciation instead of dread, and with love instead of fear.  

Having a spiritual practice, finding that which nourishes and grounds us, will help us remain in relationship during upcoming times of change, times of friction. So, I return to the water again and again. I tell it my worries and my joys and then I listen. Listen to the water meeting the land. Listen to the wind moving the water. Listen, until I feel full of love and grounded in the vast expanse that is the interconnected web of life. And then I return to UCE in all its in-person and virtual spaces and work to engage with the friction while remaining in relationship as we cultivate change. I will see you there. 

In faith,  

Rev. Susan