Dear ones, 

We are mid-way through this summer journey together—this time of rest, reflection, and renewal. As I reflect on the summer so far, it occurs to me that I have not said something as clearly as I could have: You all are doing a very hard thing.

Being a member of a church in conflict is incredibly hard. I’ve been there myself. It’s hard if you’re a long-time member who feels like you don’t recognize your church anymore. It’s hard if you feel like you’re at risk of losing deep friendships you’ve made at church over the years. It’s hard if you’re brand new to the congregation and feel out of the loop or weary of what you’re coming into. It’s hard if you’re experiencing your own personal grief or reason for celebration and you feel like there isn’t space for that. There are so many ways and reasons why this is very hard.

So I just want to acknowledge that and make space to feel it and hold it. If you haven’t done so, pause and acknowledge it to yourself. This is hard. It’s okay to feel that way.

And it might be hard for a while. But it doesn’t have to be hard forever. If we’re willing to stay committed, stay open, and lean into the work, we can transform conflict into something beautiful we haven’t been able to imagine yet. This community has so much to offer, to one another and to the wider world. It’s work worth doing.

Two Sundays ago, regional staff from the Unitarian Universalist Association were here to help us plant the seeds of this work. They met with staff and lay leaders, led Sunday worship, and held a workshop on conflict transformation that was open to the whole congregation. They offered many wonderful lessons and frameworks but there are two that are sticking with me this week.

First is the concept of the “window of tolerance.” When we are faced with conflicts, we each have a particular window in which we are able to respond thoughtfully and productively. When we are feeling particularly stressed, are impacted by past traumas, or aren’t feeling at our best, the window shrinks. Outside of that window, we resort to our evolutionary responses to threats: fight, flight, freeze or fawn. There’s nothing inherently wrong with these responses. They aren’t something to be ashamed of, but they don’t help us transform conflict. So one aspect of conflict transformation is recognizing our window of tolerance, noticing when we’re responding outside of it, and finding ways individually and collectively to open that window a little wider. 

Second, is a recognition that conflict transformation happens one small step at a time. Author and activist adrienne maree brown refers to this as figuring out, “the next elegant step,” writing,  “an elegant step is one that acknowledges what is known and unknown, and what the capacity of this group actually is. an elegant step allows humility, allows people to say ‘actually we need to do some research’ or ‘actually we need to talk to some folks not in this room…’” This involves patience, vulnerability, and an openness to outcomes. It means working together to find a way forward and not staying tied, unmovingly, to a single solution. It means giving up binary ideas of “winning and losing.”

We have one month of summer spaciousness left before the next church year begins in  earnest. One more month to focus on rest, reflection, and renewal. The journey of conflict transformation is a long one and we are only just beginning, but my hope is that in this next month we can lean into the openness we need to move forward. Can we learn some practices of rest and renewal that will open our window of tolerance even just a centimeter wider? Can we slow down a little, reflect on our assumptions and expectations, and try to keep our hearts and minds open to the next elegant step?

I am only with you all for one more year. I won’t be here to see the end of this good, hard, holy work. But it is a gift and a blessing to accompany you all as you begin it. Let us do so together, in faith, in hope, and in love.

In faith,

Danielle