Day 64 Sunday, September 11 Kelseyville to Ukiah, CA 45 miles
She opened the door and I immediately recongized her. I was to be spending the night with my new host, Kelsey, and her husband and young children. I only knew her by Kelsey (the last name held no significance for me), that she was the associate pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Ukiah, and that I might be speaking to her youth group later that evening. I had spent the morning with my Unitarian Universalist community that I helped found after Kelseyville Presbyterian Church was not able to support their growing presence years ago. The split was on my mind as these two congregations worshiped just two blocks apart from each other–one that I belong to by ordination and tradition; the other that I belong to in the same way that one belongs to an extended family.
She opened the door and began to ask if I remembered her. Before she had a chance to remind me I stated her maiden name and smiled, stunned by the strange convergence of events. Kelsey is the child of members of Kelseyville Presbyterian Church. I was her family’s pastor while she was a young teenager. She was there during the years of new growth, the ensuing conflict and my eventual messy departure. Unbeknownst to me she went went on to become a camp counselor, finished college, became a youth director, graduated from seminary and recently became ordained as a Presbyterian minister.
There I was at the door ready to share the same issues with her youth group that cost me job years ago at Kelseyville. After I settled in with a good shower I immediately assured her that I was not there to undermine in any way any work she was doing with her youth group. I told her to use my experience on this trip any way she felt it would best benefit her youth. She assured me that she had no concerns and we began to share our similar experiences of the loss of youth and young families in the Presbyterian Church.
We had a great meeting with about 15-20 youth and their adult leaders. As I began to share about my experience the youth themselves opened up about their experience of church as well. There was near uniform agree
ment that most of them were there for the people in the group. It was the sense of community, fun, and mutual sharing that they enjoyed. At the same time they shared that they felt the church was not often open to their questions, experiences and needs in church. They talked about their friends who feel that the church brainwashes people (I’ve seen the machine in action!) and think it is weird to go to church. They asked about my most embarrassing event on the trip (it’s just between me and them) and my most difficult (the day to Carson City in the headwind wins that one). In the end there was a theme emerging: “The Church needs to honor people’s real questions, be a safe place to share those questions, and be more welcoming to the outside community.”
Is this divine justice or a divine comedy? 15 years ago my attempts to guide a church toward these words got me in all kinds of trouble. There I was with one of the children of members of that church hearing the same thing from the youth that she is guiding along in their faith. Rather than feeling threatened she was welcoming and encouraging the youth to say more and share more about how they really feel about the safety of sharing deeply and authentically in the church. I appreciated that they shared how important the community was to them and also admitted that they aren’t sure how honest they could be with their real questions. I also appreciated how open Kelsey and the other leaders didn’t defend the church, but just allowed the youth to be honest.
It was an incredibly rich day. I attended the Unitarian Universalist service where a very moving poem by Maryann and Frederick Brussard was read that they had written on the afternoon of 9/11 ten years ago. I was amazed by both the growth of the congregation since I last visited them and how few of the faces I actually recognized. A sign of the growth and the mobility of our modern society. I rode the short 45 miles to Ukiah and focused on really enjoying these last few days before returning to Portland. My host and friend, Kathy, asked me that morning if I need to watch for “barn sour”. I wasn’t sure what that was and she explained that when you go on a trail ride with a horse often when you turn around and start heading home the horse will power ahead with a singular focus of getting back to the barn. I told Kathy I have to watch for a little of that. I am really ready to return home now. I know where home is. I know who my people are. I know where I belong. I would be tempted to turn in a “Beam me up, Scotty!” card if I had one at this point. But, I do know that I would regret it. I really do want to take advantage of this time to decompress and let my last images be of the Souther Oregon coast.
Hi Brian. It occurs to me that we’ll be in Bandon on the Oregon coast on Friday for Dave’s birthday. I haven’t looked at a map lately. Where will you be? Possibly north of there but just thought I’d check. I’m looking forward to talking with you about your journey after you get home. Wishing you continued safe travels. Ro
A note from your Portland Parish Nurse: I was reading a bit of Henri Nouwen yesterday and his words struck me as so relevant in your thoughts and self searching of the past weeks. He wrote “A man of prayer is a leader precisely because through his articulation of God’s work in himself, he can lead others out of the confusion to clarification; through his compassion he can guide them out of the closed circuits of their in-groups to the wide world of humanity; and through his critical contemplation he convert their convulsive destructiveness into creative work for the new world to come.” He wrote this in 1972 in The
Wounded Healer–such words of wisdom 39 years ago and it seems to fit you perfectly.
In many ways, it may be hard to end this trek and get back to the reality our church struggles, but we all look forward to having you back in our midst. I wish you safety and good health. Judy Hubbard
Brian – I cannot count the number of times when I advocated for something, people resisted, the idea went into hibernation – then turned up again, in almost the same form, with almost the same people but at a later date. You seem to be handling a much more intense version of that with much more grace than me. I usually feel pretty snarky about it for a while!! Rest assured that you’re setting quite a good example 🙂 ~Marie
Hi, Brian,
I have enjoyed reading your daily blogs,(okay, so I don’t read them every day).
Safe travels home and look forward to seeing you and hearing more about your adventures and insights!
Jean Henry
The rule of thumb I follow, is you’ve got to explain it five different times in five different ways. If your audience embraces the idea and calls it their own, then you have success. Call it brainwashing, call it conversion, but I call it urban transportation planning.
Dave
Brian,
What a concept, an environment that is a safe place for people of any age to be able to freely express their feelings, thoughts on spiritual matters.
A setting where conversations can lead to greater understanding of others as well as ourselves. A place where we are encouraged to grow and explore what it means to be people of faith.
Every effort in that direction is a positive and productive venture.
Erik
Brian, several years ago I was at a pilgrims conclave and one of the fellow pilgrims, much wiser than I, opined ‘Everybody has his own Camino’. To this day I still find those words comforting, somewhat profound.
Buen Camino … Walter
Sometimes the roads home are the trickiest! My prayers are that the twists and turns with serve you well in your continued insights. Your quoting from Phyllis’ book reminds me how easy it is for us to look at the Reformation, harder to look 150 years before and read the emergence and how easily dismissed the arising possibilities. I would wonder if we are not more in that precursor to the “next revealing” rather than those that have to opportunity to see to fruition what is one the way.
Blessings to you and safe journey, Linda Stewart-Kalen