Life...Untethered

If you were here at St. Paul for our Open & Affirming Worship service on June 25th, then you know it was an EXTRA special day because we were celebrating 10 years of officially being an Open & Affirming Congregation. The altar was draped in a Pride flag. The choral ensemble sang songs of resistance and wider welcome. And members of our congregation told the story of St. Paul becoming an Open & Affirming congregation--the process, the feelings, the losses, and the gains. There were rainbow colored balloons and two sets of golden balloons in the shape of a 1 and 0 to form the number 10. 

The numbered balloons were intended to both be outside, but the day was also a VERY windy one. So much so that the balloons intended to be at our west entrance were unable to be outside at all without fear that they would blow away. So, we moved them indoors, and as I was "helping" (or maybe over-functioning) to arrange the balloons in the sanctuary, the 0 balloon somehow came untethered, leaving me, and others around me, to only watch helplessly as the balloon floated to the ceiling. That was two Sundays ago...and the balloon is STILL hugging the ceiling in the sanctuary.  

I have no idea when that balloon will come down, although it's a bit of a game now to come into the church and see if the balloon is--in fact--still up there. I'm thinking of dubbing it, "Balloon Watch 2023"--but maybe not everything needs a subtitle. I don't know. What I do know is that I have spent some time watching that balloon and thinking about that balloon, and wondering what it might have to teach me--to teach us.

And what that balloon is teaching me today is the practice and the power of letting go. Think about it, that balloon has probably commanded more attention on the ceiling than it ever would have had it remained tethered to that number 1 balloon on the ground. Had that balloon remained where others told it to remain, it would have lived as a party favor decorating the landscape of our day, rather than living as something that--if even in a small way--helped shape our day together. All of which causes me to wonder, what would happen if WE practiced letting go?

Brené Brown says that, "Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be and embracing who we are." Which leads me to believe that practicing the lessons of the foil balloon can be life-changing. Think about it, what if we practiced--daily--letting go of who we think we're supposed to be, or who we've been told we're supposed to be, and simply entered each moment of each day EXACTLY as we are?  What if we took seriously the practice of untethering ourselves from all of the places we have been told to remain? From all of the places that left us out and left us wanting and, sometimes, left us on our knees? What if we just showed up in our lives, in our workplaces, around our kitchen tables, and in our worship services and let ourselves--our true selves--be seen? What if we practiced authenticity--and stopped plastering on a smile when we weren't happy, and stop "sucking it up and soldiering on" when life was knocking us down over and over again? Might we find that nothing feels as good as letting go?

I'm not sure, but that's my hunch:  That learning to let go of the facade might just be the most beautiful, liberating, and healing thing we can do for ourselves--and for one another. For our freedom and our healing are tied up in the freedom and healing of one another.

Practicing the lessons of the foil balloon with you,
​Pr. Melissa

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