Selah

What's broken is never going to be whole again. It cannot be mended-- entire pieces are missing, and I can't even say where they've gone, how big they were, or what shape. And even if, by some unlikely coincidence, some strange miracle, you were handed back the pieces that broke away, they wouldn't fit together again. Too much time has passed-- so much rough scrubbing and cold washing-- and the edges that were once sharp and clearly defined have softened, smoothed. The broken place hasn't gone away, hasn't been filled with gold. But it won't cut your fingers now; if you touch that edge, you won't bleed anymore. The edge is full of character, interesting to look at, pleasant to touch. And what's broken is OBVIOUSLY broken, but it is also, now, after all of this time, whole.

In January, I attended a weeklong intensive at Leadville Lombard Theological School, for a class called, “RE for a Changing World.” What does that even mean? Well, RE is an easy one: religious education. But what does it mean to learn about religious education for a changing world? Changing how? And what do we even mean when we say “religious education?” During the course of the week, we actually used the phrases “faith formation” and “faith development” in place of “religious education,” and that is pretty indicative of the entire point of the class. The world is changing, growing, shifting, and so are its needs and the needs of people secular and religious alike. Classroom-style “religious education” is maybe no longer the best way to meet the needs of our youth and young people, nor our adults who are, in the best of worlds, still learning! Religious Education isn’t a thing kids do for one hour in a classroom on Sunday morning while their parents are in worship. Or at least, Rel...