by Betsy Wehrwein
I’ve always loved circles. They are truly magical. They don’t begin; they don’t end. That’s so cool! And they include this mathematical concept of pi, which is an infinite number, meaning it just can’t be divided to some reference point of human understanding. How about that!
In a similar way, life itself is a mystery, beyond human comprehension. And so is Salvation. I don’t want to limit the idea of salvation to something defined by man. (I’m using the word man here deliberately, because most of what is traditionally considered and written about Salvation from a Christian perspective comes from a white patriarchal perspective, which is limiting and so unlike a cool circle.)
In the fall of 2022, I was switching out the screen windows on my house to the freshly cleaned storm frames (yes, I live in an older Saint Paul home). As I went along, I was listening to Robin Wall Kimmerer’s voice narrating her audiobook Braiding Sweetgrass, which I was reading for the first time.
Changing windows is a very reflective time for me, filled with memories of family traditions—helping my parents in the spring and fall, and then later my own children helping me. I remember all the conversations we would have as we hauled, cleaned, and placed the frames and got ready to celebrate the change of seasons; tucking in, or opening out. For me, this remains a simple time to honor my family as I go through change, even more so now that my parents are in heaven and my children all live out of state.
So it was profound for me to be listening to Robin share her own family story during this time — a story that challenged a group of white men in an academic institution to be greater than themselves; a story that connected her ancestors’ teachings with an identity that reverberates through the earth. I was so touched by her understanding of reciprocal relationships between creatures, botany, water, air, and land. A shift took place in my mind, heart, and gut, and I found myself deeply moved and rearranged. I will always remember where I was when I first heard Braiding Sweetgrass.
A few months later, I walked into St. John the Evangelist Episcopal Church and their Faith Formation series on A Women’s Lectionary. It was near the end of the pandemic and I, like so many, was coming out of my shell, hungry to connect with the world in some greater way. To be welcomed by this community and introduced to this sanctioned exploration was a statement of God’s grace, pure and simple.
Although I grew up in the Episcopal faith, I had been away for many years: out in the world experiencing much life but also amassing much baggage. When I arrived at St. John’s, Craig’s joyful sermons and Jered’s call to reconciliation opened me up, and I realized I needed to get rid of as many of my burdens as possible. The laity and staff have been so supportive of me in doing just this. And with each step taken in this direction, I have a profound sense of the Holy Spirit all around me, in all its mystery and wonderment.
The concept of Salvation is an interesting one, calling forth many profound thoughts and intriguing interpretations. But what’s best for me, by God, is to keep things simple. The Episcopal Church defines Salvation as Eternal life in the fullness of God’s love. Simple.
Salvation for me is the movement along a circuitous path. This is a roundabout way of saying that life is already eternal and that we are part of this mystical coming in and going out, the breath of the Holy Spirit. It’s a circle game.
Whenever I feel overwhelmed or lost, I can touch the truth of what I was taught in childhood: Jesus loves me, so love God with all you’ve got and love your neighbor as yourself. Now, if I can’t love myself, then it’s going to screw up a lot of stuff. And if I can’t love myself, it’s because I don’t let Jesus in; when all my inward thinking and meditation and prayer is only focused on me, it’s not going to go very far.
So to love myself, I must look beyond myself—and find Jesus. Can I see Jesus in others? Can others see Jesus in me? What comes around goes around.
Robin Wall Kimmerer tells us: Nature asks us to give back, in reciprocity, for what we have been given . . . through gratitude, through ceremony, through land stewardship, science, art, and in everyday acts of practical reverence. This is a simple and beautiful way to look at Creation. I’m going to do my darndest to love the whole world and all that is in it. Thanks be to God.
