Mar 30th: Becoming Agents of Hope in the ‘After’, with Becca Ellis.
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Becoming Agents of Hope in the ‘After’ with Becca Ellis. Series: Finding Hope in Hard Places A Spacious Christianity, First Presbyterian Church of Bend, Oregon. Scripture: Proverbs 8, James 3:13-17.
Feeling lost or searching for wisdom in life’s twists and turns? Join us this Sunday as Becca explores how small moments and unexpected connections can transform our world. Whether online or in-person, come discover a fresh perspective on navigating change.
Transcript:
Becca Ellis: Life has a universal rhythm to it, subtle, unspoken, but ever present, there is a cadence of moments that shape us, dividing time into the befores and the Afters, before the diagnosis, before the loss, before the love, after the child was born, after the apology, after the pandemic, after the executive order, after the moment you never saw coming. We moved through life as if it were a single thread, but in truth, it is a weaving, a tapestry of thresholds crossed, of selves left behind, and new selves stepping forward, and somewhere in there, a quiet voice emerges, calling out to us, aiding us at every path and turning point. And her name is wisdom. Wisdom is found in learning to see these thresholds, not just as abrupt endings or beginnings, but as invitations, invitations to notice, to grow, to be shaped by what was and what will be. Today, I want to invite us to sit with this truth, to consider the holiness of change, the grace that meets us at the turning points, and the God who was before, who meets us in the after and who is with us always. Sophia is a transliteration of the Greek noun meaning wisdom, but more than just the attainment of knowledge and life to make good and sound decisions, Sophia wisdom represents a living, guiding presence that moves us through life’s changes and ruptures, whether good or bad. In Hebrew, the word for wisdom is hachma, referring to God’s wisdom. In the Old Testament, Book of Proverbs, we see this word used as wisdom is personified as a woman and CO creator with God. Wisdom is described as having been there all along, even before creation and as the world began, and she is present in our own becoming too wisdom has always been calling out to us. She stands at the crossroads, at the threshold of every before and after asking us to listen in Proverbs eight, she raises her voice, does not wisdom. Call out, does not understanding, raise her voice at the highest point along the way where the paths meet. She takes her stand. As I have been reflecting on this idea of befores and afters, I’m reminded of the story of Esther, which speaks to the power of responding with wisdom, intention and courage when we find ourselves at a pivotal turning point in our lives, and her before, Esther was an orphan living in exile, then she is suddenly queen to a powerful king, and there is a decree of destruction for her people. She didn’t ask for any of this, but here she is the one person who can make a difference. She could have asked the question, Why me? And stopped there passively, letting life go on around her. It was a moment of great fear and uncertainty, but in her after Esther rose to the occasion, choosing to act with courage and wisdom, even at the risk of her own life, to save her people. She understood there was something greater than just herself at stake. She listened to wisdoms voice and felt the call for such a time as this. One of the greatest challenges we each face is when we cross those thresholds life presents us with and to stop and notice what after we have found ourselves in and then decide what to do with it, we learn to ask the questions now, what and why? Me with a tone of curiosity rather than despair, which can be hard, because in every before, we stand in possibility, and every after, we must kneel down and gather what is lost, what has gained, what has been revealed. Both befores and afters can be better or worse, but they always bring change, and all change, no matter how small is loss in some form or other, the invitation wisdom offers us is both to honor this truth as well as a profound practice of living into the questions, into the uncertainty, and trusting that even when we don’t know what is to come, there is a calling for us to step into and God will need us there. So where does that leave us? If every before and after is an invitation, then what is it that we are being called into the deeper understanding of this Sophia wisdom is that she does not merely call us to understanding. She calls us to participation. She is not just an observer at the turning points of our lives. She is an active presence at both the big and quiet moments of our lives, stirring, moving. In leading us deeper, and in that leading there is always a call, a call not just to who we are becoming, but a call to how we choose to move throughout our everyday lives. We each have personal callings we encounter through our life, our work, where we live, our creative pursuits, and these may shift depending on the season of life we are in. But beneath all of these unique callings, there is one that applies to all of us and is made visible through the ways we show up in our communities day by day. It is a quiet calling, a current running just underneath the surface, but builds over time to make true and lasting change. Often when Afters occur, we are very good at paying attention to the big moments, as Krista Tippett puts it, when we think about how change happens in this society, and this is natural, we tell the story of those moments when Critical Mass arises, bodies on the street, but durable change is often brewing in much less visible yet powerful ways before we ever see it on the surface, I love the way John Paul Lederach, a global leader in conflict resolution and peace building, describes this. He says that if we want to see change in our world, we must become what he calls critical yeast. When you make a loaf of bread, the dough can’t rise without yeast. The critical work is quietly happening beneath the surface as different elements are mixed together and begin to interact and release something new that wasn’t there before. Letter acts observation and work emphasizes how change happens long before the movement reaches the streets. Critical yeast is when small groups of people in unlikely combinations form a new quality of relationship. Now to me, that sounds a lot like church. One of the beautiful things about a church community is how we encounter individuals we wouldn’t have met in our natural, everyday circles. We actually live our lives fairly segregated. When you think about it, our kids and youth spend their days divided into spaces with their direct peers. On the other side, we have assisted living and retirement communities where younger people don’t tend to just walk in and build relationships. We often have friends who are the same age and in a similar life phase as we are. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with any of that, but church is a place where all are welcome, the commonality being that we are seeking to be a part of something bigger than just ourselves, to find meaning and purpose. Here, at first pres, we strive to embody this spacious way of doing community together, where we embrace our differences and approach them with curiosity, and our lives are so much richer for it, it is a new quality of relationship that we find here, one that is counter cultural, in that when we hear something that might not align perfectly with our own perspective, instead of running the other way or putting an immediate guard up, we are invited to lean in with curiosity and love and see what there is for us to learn. There is challenge involved as we navigate community in this way, but that challenge expands our capacity for love and understanding, which is clearly something our world needs. Going back to this idea of critical yeast, this term captures the slow, unseen work of transformation. It’s quiet, it’s behind the scenes. It’s faithful and steady, and it’s where the real magic happens. Letteric goes on to say that it is these yeasty individuals, the ones willing to engage across division, to nurture relationships, to show up again and again, who remain after the upheavals. They are the ones and the Afters picking up the pieces and asking what now and turning it into something durable and whole.
In the New Testament book of James, we are offered a vision of two kinds of wisdom, one that is rooted in God’s way of being, and another that is driven by self interest beyond just abstract thoughts, these ways of wisdom shape how we relate to others and how we find our purpose. We read who is wise and understanding among you. Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such wisdom does not come from God, but is earthly, unspiritual. But the wisdom that comes from God is, first of all, pure, then peace, loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. There is a wisdom that seeks to serve itself. It appears to have all the answers to be strategic and cunning, but ultimately drives us to an unsatisfied and hollow existence. It tells us to acquire and keep more for ourselves, to find our worth in what we have and how we measure against others. Living this way leads us to only one after where we live. Back and wonder why we wasted so much time on the things that mattered the least in this short life. Then there is God’s wisdom, one rooted in mercy and justice, in deep consideration for others, in peacemaking, and one that tells a more generative narrative for our times. It is a quiet wisdom that shows up in unlikely places, with the ability to rebuild what is broken, to bring wholeness where there has been division, to transform not just individual lives, but entire communities. The question for us is not just which wisdom we admire, but rather, what wisdom do we live by, and what about when it gets hard. There are a lot of voices calling out for our attention. In this world, it’s easy to get lost and overwhelmed, and it all unlike Steven shared last week, for our circuits to get overloaded, following the voice of wisdom we know can lead us to the greatest transformation isn’t necessarily easy. I think it’s also important to say that this wisdom doesn’t tell us to never pay attention to ourselves either. So it’s it’s actually in paying attention to our own well being that we are able to give our ourselves in the way that God’s wisdom calls us toward. So how do we find it? What practices can we engage in that help us follow the voice of wisdom that leads to true and lasting change, because in order to see the change we long to witness on a larger scale, we must first start with our own individual transformation. I want to offer three simple but transformative practices you can engage in. The first is to practice the pause, and this one I have found truly takes practice. We live in a fast paced world that is always begging us for a quick reaction, that thrives on scarcity, that tells us there isn’t enough time, but true wisdom invites us into deeper discernment. Brene Brown writes, between stimulus and response, there is a space, and that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom, even if it is just taking a deep breath anywhere that we can practice and invite a pause will allow us to exhale a more thoughtful, grounded and considerate response, rather than an impulsive reaction. I often think about something my therapist said to me once about the words we speak. She used the analogy of a toothpaste tube. You can easily and rapidly squeeze out all the toothpaste all over the counter, but it’s impossible to get it back into the tube later, while we can make amends and attempt to repair hasty words once spoken, they can’t be taken back or unheard. The next practice is to make unlikely connections. John Paul letter X, idea of critical yeast, reminds us that real transformation takes place in relationships, especially in the ones we wouldn’t naturally seek out. True wisdom calls us to engage with people outside of our usual circles. Jesus calls us to this also, especially to those on the margins of society. Imagine if we held a posture of seeing those who are different from us as bearers of divine insight. Making these unlikely connections could be as simple as reaching out to someone with a different perspective, or perhaps inviting someone from a younger or older generation to get a cup of coffee and learn the story of their life. It can even look like practicing empathy in the midst of conflict and sitting with someone in their pain and not rushing to fix it. Who can you intentionally make a connection with this week that you wouldn’t normally? And the third practice is to be faithful and small acts of goodness. I often say that when things feel too big, start small, and it turns out that the big things only come about because of the small, everyday choices we make. True wisdom reminds us that each of us consistently showing up with love is what our world needs most. It is showing up with generosity, even when it feels inconvenient. It is simply looking at someone on a trail or as you walk through your neighborhood and offering a friendly nod and Hello, and is stepping a little slower, less rushed throughout your day, so you notice the opportunities to plant seeds of goodness and perhaps even find those unlikely connections you weren’t expecting. It is being mindful of every interaction as a chance to make the world a little more beautiful and less harsh. It is these small gestures of goodness and love that act as the yeast making the whole loaf rise. These practices, pausing making unlikely connections and faithfully offering acts of goodness in our world are just a few ways of anchoring ourselves to the way of wisdom. This is wisdom’s call to us. It isn’t about being able to make sense of every after we find ourselves in and. Isn’t about being perfect or remaining stoic in the face of very real grief and loss. It isn’t about certainty or knowing what is coming next, but rather, to be present to what is breaking and what is being made new, and to trust that small things really do matter. We don’t have all the answers to live wisely. Rather, we just have to be willing to listen to love, to do the next right thing in front of us, and to trust that even the smallest acts of goodness can shape a new and vibrant future you.

