Surrendering our Rituals

What to do when what we've done is no longer working.

Hello everyone, and welcome to this space. We hope it serves you well.

My name is Amy. I tend to stay behind the scenes when it comes to Zach’s job and I like it that way. I have my own interests and responsibilities, and, to be honest, Zach’s job kind of stresses me out. I am a purity culture, youth group evangelist turned reluctant pastor’s wife. I carried a bible in my backpack every day of high school, I went to two(!) baptist colleges (started at one- followed a then-shaggy-haired-boy to another), and I had a handwritten list of qualities that I would accept in my future husband. I’m a lot more fun now. 

But I’m very private, and Zach’s life is becoming much more public each year. I would much prefer to water my plants or read a book than meet new people. I deleted all of my social media several years back and my therapist told me that looking at Zach’s Twitter is no longer healthy for me.

Side note. If you haven’t caught on to the depth of our differences, here’s a fun story:

Soon after we were married, Zach and I met with a financial advisor who asked us, on a scale of 1-10, how aggressive we would like to be with our investments, with one being “anti-risk” and ten being “very aggressive.” (At that time, it was a stretch for me to even meet with someone and turn my money over to “the stock market,” but I knew my wifely duty was to submit to my twenty-two-year-old husband and follow his lead.) We simultaneously said “Nine” (Zach) and “Zero” (Me). The professional across from us laughed, looked at me, and said, “Then you should just bury it in your backyard.” I told him that sounded like an excellent idea. Zach rolled his eyes. Fourteen years later, this is the best example I can give of our relationship.

So when my dear friend, Rachel, posed this question to Zach– “Why don’t you start a Substack?”– I took little interest in the idea. To be honest, Zach can accomplish more in one day than any human I’ve ever met. Where I need some prompting to get up and get going, Zach needs some reminders to sit down every now and then. He sometimes forgets to breathe (true story) and will suddenly gasp as if he’s coming up for air after an extended stay underwater. This is both helpful and harmful, as most of our qualities can be.

Even Zach, who is always up for a new adventure, didn’t think it was the right time to start a new project; he is currently leading our church, helping to run a network of like minded churches and individuals, starting a doctoral program, serving on multiple church and nonprofit boards, promoting a book, etc. etc. But as Rachel explained the function of Substack in a sea of social media, Zach’s wheels started turning. We didn’t talk about it much for a month or two. Then, in the midst of a shift in my job, Zach approached me with an idea: what if I reduced my hours at work and helped him start a Substack community for those who connect with his content? We’ve been working on the idea ever since, and it’s finally ready to find its way into the world.

One of the most exciting prospects about this project is the accessibility that this medium brings. I spend my days working as a speech pathologist, helping kids who need some extra help at school (as well as their parents) learn how to access the supports and services available to them. I have learned so much about the hindrances kids face as they try to participate in the various parts of their lives.

And isn’t this a lot like church? I think most of us have felt one or more barriers to participating in church, faith, religion, or the communities associated with those spaces. Maybe we fought for inclusion, maybe we didn’t. Maybe the things that worked for us before deconstruction- rituals, routines, prayers, eager participation in faith communities- no longer do. And maybe we’re looking for a different expression of our belief. 

But what if church does not feel possible? I don’t think I need to provide examples of why that may be true for you. What if reading scripture after deconstructing feels daunting? (I might have a book recommendation for you.)  And what if you’ve been told that going to church and reading your bible are the most important expressions of your faith? What if we just need to find some new ways forward and a group of people who get it?

My friend Rachel, the Substack spark-lighter, has walked through many hard seasons with me, including wrestling with matters of faith and God and church (and carrying her bible across our high school, too). Earlier this year, as I sought to support some very special people through an impossibly difficult time, I felt a grief at no longer experiencing the comfort of old religious rituals. Though I am confident in my beliefs about God and how we should treat others, I sometimes don’t know what to do in times of sorrow; the “spiritual disciplines” I once practiced are more complicated now. Rachel’s response to my expression of this grief was so poignant:

“Sometimes I miss those rituals because they were nice to hold on to. But letting go of them is a brave thing–I think that’s what surrender means, actually.”

I haven’t stopped thinking of this text that so perfectly summarizes our intention for this community. We want this space to be a brave place of surrendering what is no longer working as we seek new expressions of faith. May we all feel safe to express our doubts or changing minds. And let us be kind to those who are in a different place than we have landed or are currently traveling. We are working to provide content that meets the needs of a growing number of people who crave a community that is brave and thoughtful, and committed to the dignity of all people despite their beliefs. We pledge to protect the individuals who are asking and answering questions in good faith.

No matter where you fall in your expression in faith (or lack thereof), you are welcome here. Zach and I are thrilled to attempt to create such a community. Thank you for joining us in the journey. 

Amy