Transactional or Relational? Grappling with Scripture and Thoughts on Money

Yesterday I had the honor of sharing my reflections with my church community. It is ever humbling to have the task of offering my limited understanding, my thoughts-in-process. Still I offer what I can and hope that it will invite you into reflection, whether your understanding is similar or different from mine.

Amos 8:4-7; 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

 

(Cue bass guitar…drums…vocals) Money, money, money, money. Money!

When I teach nonviolent communication, I ask the question, “If you were to ask any person, at any time in history, in any place in the world, what makes for a good life, what would be common answers?” People often say things like love, safety, food, a sense of purpose, acceptance. Another response I often hear is “money.” When that answer comes up, I ask if a baby or an indigenous person living deep in the Amazon needs money.

The point of the question is to lift up the universal human needs that guide our words and actions. Money is not a universal human need. It’s a tool. It’s a shortcut to represent value. Money is an invention. Humans made it up so long ago that we forget that it’s made up. Money is now so tied to how we meet needs for food, shelter, safety, security, and other things, that many of us, myself included, spend a lot of time and effort thinking about, trying to get, and trying to use money wisely. We often talk about how much money we want to or do “make” in exchange for work we do. As a single, self-employed person working in a gig economy, trying to reconcile my deepest values with “making money” while also honoring the value of my work doesn’t always feel easy. What does that even mean, “making money,” especially in a time when the most common way to exchange money is electronically? Many of us trust money to provide safety and security. We have savings accounts and retirement accounts. That we are taught to rely on money as a primary means of safety and security feels like a tragedy.

Even as I say this, I want to return to this idea: money is neutral. It is a tool that can be used to magnify love, joy, connection, and creation or to magnify hate, apathy, fear, and destruction. When the first reading from Amos condemns people for “trampl[ing] on the needy,”  he’s not condemning money in and of itself, but rather he is calling out prioritizing money over people, and thus exacerbating harm.

Similarly, it is not having money that Jesus critiques in his parable, but putting money before relationship. Jesus cautions putting too much trust in money and goods, because someday we may lose them. In Jesus’ parable the steward tries to protect himself by getting in the good graces of the landowner’s debtors. He tries to build a foundation for reciprocity, albeit hastily and precariously, so that when he’s fired, he can call on those people to care for him. In the end he doesn’t get fired or have to rely on the debtors to support him. Though things worked out for the steward, Jesus is not inviting us to be like him, but rather drawing a contrast between the actions of the devious steward and a trustworthy one.

The contrast these readings highlight is between transactional and relational ways. When we relate in a transactional way, as our dominant cultural paradigm promotes, we see people, other beings, and our Earth Mother as a means to an end. This paradigm values speed, unfettered growth, people and resources as utilitarian and disposable, and acquisition of money. The dominant culture values profits, stock prices, and speedy work or production. It celebrates the accumulation of vast sums of monetary wealth, even if those doing the labor for the ones acquiring the vast sums rely on public assistance to meet their basic needs. This cultural framework encourages mistrust, destructive competition, disconnection, and both the idea that the natural resources we extract from Mother Earth are inexhaustible and a scarcity mindset. We are disconnectedly connected as we both rely on the labor of people from all over the world for our food, clothing, and other goods, and don’t know or think about who those people are. Thankfully, this way of disconnection and transaction is not the only way to be.

Worshipping God, our God who is a model of relational being, offers us another way. In our worship of God we acknowledge and live into our inherent interconnection, seeing people, other beings, our Earth Mother as our family, our beloved community.  Honoring God means valuing slowness, depth, relationships, and a trust in abundance that invites gratitude for what we have rather than a never-ending quest to acquire more. We act from a place of care rather than utility, from a place of attentive reciprocity, in an ebb and flow of giving and receiving. Worshipping God means slowing down to pray for the well-being of all, with “petitions, intercessions, and thanskgivings.” Author and activist adrienne maree brown writes about “mov[ing] at the speed of trust” and “build[ing] resilience by build[ing} relationships.” Worshipping God, we are invited to move at the slow speed of humanity, building relationships with our siblings, human and beyond.  

Though we are all affected by weight of the dominant culture, and likely contribute to it, we simultaneously see, practice, and strengthen our worship of God. In our St. William community, we do this through prayers, visits, calls, emails, letters, and meal trains for one another. We do this when we gather on Sundays with a hybrid model so that all who want to participate can do so. We do this as we pray for and stay in long-distance relationship with our siblings in Esquipulas. We do this by public signage, statements, and actions that affirm the full humanity of all people, particularly those whose value may be denied or diminished in the dominant cultural paradigm. We do this by sharing books in our Little Library. We do this in our ongoing questioning of how to be in deeper connection with our neighbors and when we consider how solar panels, air conditioning, and other aspects of the building’s physical structure impact Mother Earth. We do this when we join local, national, and international actions that support truth, justice, and healing. We do this in so many ways.

I celebrate a few other ways in which people lean into the idea that plenty that is about more than money. A dramatic example is how the owners of Patagonia recently gave away the company to support efforts directed at climate change. More ordinary examples (though I wish the Patagonia owners’ actions were ordinary!) include Really Really Free Markets and Louisville Freegans, clothing and food swaps, sharing plants and garden abundance, community organizing, and creating networks of mutual aid.

We know how to worship God. I suspect that, even with this knowing and even with the best of intentions, many of us waver between worshipping God and worshipping money. We may swing between trusting in financial security and trusting in relationships.  Dorothy Day wrote, “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.” May we hold each other in care and accountability, gently orienting and re-orienting each other toward God when we turn away. May we be trustworthy stewards, holding the tool of money loosely, using it or whatever we may have to cultivate care, joy, community, the Kindom.

Tsunamis and Canyons and Grief! Oh My!

Dear friends, 

Here we are nearly in September. September! How does time go so quickly?

Since I last wrote, I have been processing some BIG EMOTIONS. I've noticed on social media and in coversations with friends that I'm not the only one whose emotions have been intense. Maybe you've been feeling them, too.

I'm not ready to go into details about what has brought this on for me, except to say that as I become clearer about what I want my life/my relationships/this city/state/country/world to look like, the gap between what is and what I long for sometimes feels so very wide. 

The primary emotion that's been calling for my attention has been grief. It's been lingering around the edges of my emotional landscape for a long time, coming into my body sometimes in tsunami-like waves, other times like a slow-rising flood, and other times like a gentle, even sweet, rain. Recently, it's been building up like tsunamis and floods.  With the pressure increasing, I've been waiting for my body to release it. 

And then Friday happened. Friday actually started in a most lovely way: with a gathering of integrative health practitioners out at Foxhollow Farm. We learned about EMDR and tried some havening techniques. The discussion was rich. It also activated the movement of my grief. I came home and could feel the waves preparing to wash over/through/around me. Thankfully, I didn't have other meetings that day and could give the grief the space it was demanding. I cried A LOT. More than once I thought I was done and then minutes or hours later, I was crying again. So tired, I went to bed early, still heavy. 

I woke up on Saturday morning around 5:00. While not fully rested, my body felt different. Lighter. Whereas on Friday I felt helpless and hopeless, only seeing a seemingly impassable chasm between reality and vision, on Saturday I felt hopeful. I was able to imagine steps I could take through the canyon and could identify people I might ask to accompany me, even if only for a short time. 

A few days later I have begun to take the steps, inviting potential co-journeyers to join me on my path. Some have already said "yes." As I await answers from others and continue to consider who else I might approach, I remind myself, just as I remind people who take my classes, that if the folks I reach out to can't meet me the way I hope, I can still work/walk toward my vision. I don't have to walk alone. With nearly 8 billion people in the world, it's likely there are other people/possibilities available, if I streeeeeeeetch my imagination a little wider.  

I don't think I am finished with the grief. I am OK with that because I know things and have ways to care for myself that I didn't used to have:

I am not alone. Sometimes I feel lonely, but I am not alone. 

The feelings will pass. They pass more easily if I don't grip them tightly or try to stuff them down. 

Letting them pass means allowing them to flow through me - in tears, in words spoken to a friend or myself (I can be my own friend!), in writing, in movement, in song, in sound. Letting them pass isn't always easy or fun, but the only way through is through.   

If no other option seems available, I always have the option to take a conscious, deep breath. Or a few. A few deep breaths can do wonders. A few deep breaths may give space for another option to appear. Even if no new options appear, I've still taken a few deep breaths. 



It's thanks to Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication, it's thanks to practicing the skills with some of you that I'm learning to more fully care for myself and to invite others to care for me when I need some help. Thank you for being in it with me. 

What are you learning about caring for yourself and inviting in care?  



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
With this fresh experience (I love these tools!), I am so excited to have a number of upcoming Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication events, classes, and workshops. Starting a week from today I'm offering a 4-week introduction to Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication. I also have a 2-session workshop coming up- Can We Talk? Tools for Difficult (and Everyday!) Conversations. 

For those who have already experience with Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication, I'll be hosting Compassionate Communication Practice Sessions. The first is this Thursday, September 1 from 12:00-1:30 ET. If you're planning to come, be sure to register

For those interested in racial justice, on the afternoons of September 15th and 22nd, Althea Dryden and I are going to be co-facilitating Seeking the Shalom of the City at Roots 101 African American Museum. I am so excited to co-facilitate with Althea and to do so in that setting. 

FInally, if you like creative practices and/or like to mark the change in season, I'll be hosting another Create Your Own Mantra Card workshop at Foxhollow Farm on September 21, the day before the Autumn Equinox. 

If these interest you, please know that several of them have early bird discounts. I'd love to see you at one or a few events!

And if you are experiencing tsunamis or canyons or grief, please know that you are not alone. 

With care and gratitude, 
Cory

More of THIS!

Over the summer I've had a number of experiences that have been clarifying for me. Some experiences brought me to cross-armed clarity: Nope, that really doesn't work for me. Some brought me to open-armed delight: More of this! As I pay attention to my physical responses to situations and requests, I am practicing not just listening to, but also heeding my body's wisdom. When I do so, I bring my actions into greater alignment with my values. It's an ongoing practice; I haven't mastered it. The way our world is set up doesn't necessarily support us living into our highest values. Every new point of alignment feels noteworthy. 

A week ago I had the great joy of sharing my Communicating Across Divides workshop with a group of 9 women from one family. It was such a powerful night and I left the gathering feeling energized, joyful, light. My body was so clearly saying, "More of THIS!" Hoping that I had sensed correctly that those feelings were common throughout the group, I followed up with the friend who organized the gathering the next morning. Her first response: Wow, Cory, Last night worked.  It felt easy and right.  I asked her to share about the experience. Here's what she wrote (everything I'm sharing here is shared with permission)

My daughter, sisters and nieces form a tight-knit group (ages 23-70) that stays in constant touch.  We are fiercely devoted to each other and to social justice. Lately we notice that we are lacking skills in effectively talking about our views with others.

So on a summer evening around a long dining room table, we invited Cory to work with us for 2 hours on communicating across divides using nonviolent communication skills.  It was just enough to show us a way forward and plenty to practice with for now.

She also shared with me some of the responses among the group from the next day:  

M: Last night was a peek into a way forward.  So powerful that we did this as a group. 💪🏼  I am grateful to have such a loving and open-minded family.🙏🏼

R:  I’ve been hearing about “conscious raising” gatherings that brought on the second wave of feminism. I thought last night felt like one of those. It was wonderful  🥰

E:   I did it! I was able to use a couple skills I learned last night, and I initiated conversation with the new boss at work. I feel that she heard me and it feels great. Big weight —feels lighter!


My friend knew she wanted to share these tools with her family. She could have invited her family members to one of my workshops with hope that they could attend. Instead she reached out to me and we scheduled a time that worked for everyone. It was so easy. Two other things that facilitated ease and comfort were the fact that there was already such love and trust in the group and we met in someone's home. 

I share this story with you for a couple of reasons. First, this model is easy to replicate. If you've been interested in one of my workshops or have a group of friends or family you'd love to introduce to Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication generally or with something like my Communicating Across Divides workshop, let's make it happen! 

Second, the process with my friend reminded me of one of the things I preach: there are many ways to meet needs. We sometimes limit ourselves, getting "stuck" on the idea that things have to happen a certain way; whatever we decide the "right" way is. I had allowed my mind to narrow about ways to offer my classes and workshops. Last week's intimate workshop opened my mind back up to the expansive question, What else might be possible? 

The Universe seems to be giving me lots of opportunities these days to ask versions of that question: 
What might be possible if I lean into certain collaborations? 
What might be possible if I release certain difficult relationships? 
What might be possible if I ask for support and allow myself to receive it? 
What might be possible if I try this or that new thing? 

What might be possible? 

More joy. More ease. More fulfillment. Who doesn't want more of these? 

As I consider these questions, I also wonder what you are wanting more of in your life. I wonder how you would finish the question: 

What might be possible if...?

Does the question intrigue you as much as it intrigues me? I'd love to know.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
One collaboration I'm excited to lean into is with my dear friend Althea Dryden, Chief Dream Doula at Afromoon Collaborations. On the afternoons of September 15th and 22nd we're going to be co-facilitating Seeking the Shalom of the City at Roots 101 African American Museum. I say "More of THIS!" to both working with Althea and to offering the program at Roots 101. I can't wait to share the program with her and in that setting. 

I am also excited to have a number of upcoming Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication events, classes, and workshops. Later this month I'll be offering Can We Talk? Tools for Conversations about Racial Justice through Spirit of Sophia Women's Spirituality Center. Because the workshop is supported by a grant, it is offered for free. In September I'm offering a 4-week introduction to Nonviolent/Compassionate Communication and I'll be hosting Compassionate Communication Practice Sessions for those who already have some skills and want to continue practicing in a supported way. You can read more about these and other upcoming events below. I hope something piques your interest to the point of "More of THIS!" 

With trust in abundance,
Cory