Movement Slowness

We have just begun the Christian Season of Advent, that time of preparation for the coming of Christ into the world. A frequent icon of the time is a pregnant Mary, a young unmarried woman about to bear her first son, a woman who said yes to a scandalous proposition.

Clearly the images of pregnancy are ones of slow growth and development, but also are those quick Gospel flashes we get of Jesus as a child, nurtured by any of our own knowledge and experience around childhood itself, and its inherent slowness.

From the very beginning, the path of Jesus is one of growth, of seeds planted, lessons taught, stories told. And yes. Sometimes this path requires quick and decisive action. But sometimes the answer to what would Jesus do in a situation is that Jesus would take a nap.

I believe that worthwhile actions are those that unfold, evolve, and emerge. Very rarely, but sometimes, these include special events with an intended purpose such as a march or rally around a cause, a theme, an anniversary in time. I even gladly participate in these kinds of actions when called to them by those I follow, such as Indigenous voices, youth and children, or on-the-ground collaborative partners. Also, I certainly understand that when real and immediate trauma and crises happen, community response pours out in many ways.

But almost anything that demands an immediate response from you is a ruse. It is generally a lie, that urgency, that immediacy. Yes, it can energize and spur to action. Absolutely. Panic is effective for getting feet moving.

But what fruit grows from this soil? I know nothing good comes from panic in my own life. For me, panic is fed by helplessness and a belief in scarcity, fear -and it also reveals an underlying arrogance that my way, my solution, is necessary now. 

I primarily work in the faith based climate justice world, and the rising panic and fear are palpable. In some of the communities in which I work, it feels like a constant itch, but a group agitation. Some faith-based climate voices have chosen to put down spiritual tools like prayer and meditation and pick up the actions of community political power, as if these inner and outer worlds were not intimately connected.

I have been present in those spheres of traditional community actions and political resistance for most of my adult life. There is less fear there, but more anger, and the same mistakes. One of the most fundamental missteps is to skip the work: of building community, of creating connections and relationships, of seeking outside ourselves for solutions. We assume far too much when we accept alignment as the foundation for partnership, and little sustains over time.

Quick and facile mobilization that is strategic and effective is only possible when the slow work of weaving together disparate lives and work, dreams and fears, vision and hopes has made a net of relationships and at least willingness, if not trust. This willingness, and its subsequent collaborative work, makes that trust possible and real, rather than superficial and short-lived. 

I have realized over the last few years that one reason we default to the urgent actions is that the necessary work is assumed, rather than sussed out and discovered. Those of us who see problems in the world, perceive injustices and decide to act, who are aware of the looming climate changes -most of us are sure we know what needs to be done. And that it must be done now. And that we know HOW it should be done.

And damnit, now that we’re aware and paying attention, we want it fixed NOW!

We know that homelessness can be solved by providing homes. Period. But buildings take time to erect, varieties of housing that meet the multiple needs take time to discern, and the investments in community land must be longterm and sustainable. The quick oft punitive interventions are much ‘easier’ to pass legislatively and enact personally. We are unwilling to do the deeper and more difficult work. Sweeping people and their few possessions out of sight, and investing in hostile architecture such as spikes on under bridge platforms seem to be our go to solutions.

We know that the two most effective things to halt the ravages of a climate apocalypse are to plant massive numbers of trees and educate girls globally. Neither of those is a quick fix, and both take investments outside of our usual thoughts about environmental interventions. 

But I know of not a single environmental organization or institution that has pivoted to take these two things on as primary missions, or even made  investments outside of those organizations that were already focused on forestry concerns and education.

What is worthwhile takes time. And for it to take the time it needs, whatever it is we are discussing, that time must be freely given. It is not a burden. The requirements of slowness, the necessity of unfolding -these are gifts that provide the space for real change.

Many faith systems in our world have a celebration in this time. For Christians, we take a pause and a breath to prepare a place. Hindus light brilliant colors and Jews slowly build a line of fire -both actions against despair and in gratitude for plenty. For all of us, it is a time to consider, to listen and discern.

A Prayer for Slowness

We live in fluid time, moments that stretch forever and afternoons that go by in flash, days that linger and years that fly. We have all we need, for we build from the great abundance. May we seek the space to see, to feel, to breathe into the fear. May we plant the seeds that will unroot our anxiety, and grow new landscapes of hope. This we ask in all the names we call Holy. Amen.