The Rowing Team
Recently, I heard Nadia Bolz Weber tell the story of her “rowing team,” the group of humans she does “church” with, a bunch of people who don’t quite fit with the image of “church,” in a rowboat together, “just doing the best they can” to keep on rowing. When one doesn’t have the stamina to keep rowing, the others continue the job for them. Faith, she says, is like this, too—a team sport, not an individual competition.
So, then what and who are in my rowboat these days? And what are we sustaining? There are days when I could jump ship on everything, and then I feel it—myself being rowed onward, by love in the form of community, of family, of beauty and art. Life is worth the investment, this force reminds me, and love is a stubborn, sacred choice we get to make together.
Every summer I take the youth group teens on a kayaking trip down the Potomac River. They hate me for it, or at least they say they hate the rowing part. It’s hard work, they complain. They get hot and tired and thirsty and they want to throw their companions overboard.
Every trip, we hit a point where the mouth of the river opens into a wide and spacious place. Often there are eagles overhead. Usually the sky is blue and, if I get their attention and point out one of those eagles, or the blue sky, or the wide open space, for just one precious moment they all get quiet, floating together in peace.
By the end of the trip, once I feed them, they appreciate me and one another again. “I hate doing this until it’s over,” my son said last year. “Then I kind of can’t wait to do it again.”
I don’t know if this will make them avoid water sports as adults or plant the seeds of what it feels like to get each down a river. Either way, I get to remember what it feels like to literally row—exhausted arms, sun-burnt face, hunger pangs—and come together to a shore where there’s nourishment waiting. That’s the moment when we all get to step out of the boat and be fed together.
Blessing For Finding Your Way As You Go, Kate Bowler
Blessed are you, imperfect, gorgeous you,
with nothing more than this moment’s honesty,
offering what you have—your incomplete self,
your half-formed thoughts,
your unsteady hope.
May you release the “perfect plan”,
the comforting myth that everything works out.
Instead, may you find grace in trying—
knitting together days as they unravel,
stepping forward even when the path is unclear.
Blessed are you who ask for help—
not for certainty or fixes,
but steadiness to take the next step.
May your courage rise,
Fortifying you to try and try again.
Moving forward,
not because you know everything,
but from knowing that love
will carry you forward.
This life is uncertain,
but you are not alone in it.
May you find strength in the mystery,
and peace in the unfolding of today.This week’s class is offered with an intention toward longevity, with three components to consider as we practice. This one offers a balance between challenge and surrender, with lots of options as always. Click on the name of the class to access: Adapted Yoga with Christa
May you be well friends.