I’m Kinda Over Getting Told to Throw My Hands Up in the Air
/This Sunday we stand on a battlefield with Moses and his companions. While I don’t condone the violence of this story, what touches me is the reason the Israelites are successful against their opponents. Whenever Moses raises his staff, the Israelites triumph, but when he lowers his arms, his opponents prevail. Moses must keep his arms up, but he grows tired and can’t sustain this posture, so his companions help him to bear the burden. Standing on either side of him, they help him to hold his staff high, and his people persevere.
What an image of leadership. The people look to Moses to hold them steady, to guide them through this conflict. Moses is there for and with his people. He’s visible and transparent. Every time they’re afraid or discouraged or exhausted, they can look up and see him standing there with his arms raised and the staff of God hoisted high. But he’s not alone. He shows his vulnerability, his weakness even. He needs help, and his companions stand with him, supporting him and supporting the people.
I’m reading it through this lens, likely because I have leadership on the brain. It’s election season, and I’m waiting for the onslaught of campaign mail and mean political ads. Really, though, it’s not just my secular context. I’m thinking of leadership in religious circles too. My archdiocese is reshuffling parish leadership, connecting and joining parishes, and the people of God are trying to adjust. I’m watching some of my fellow parishioners struggle with these changes, as well as some of us at God Space. How will we get through this? How are our leaders leading? And where is God in all this?
It seems to me that the Church is in a liminal space right now, and this includes us in religious communities who are affected by Church changes who are also experiencing our own time of uncertainty. We’re no longer what we have been, but we don’t know what we’re becoming. One thing that’s been super helpful is a book I’m reading called How to Lead When You Don’t Know Where You’re Going: Leading in a Liminal Season. The author, Susan Beaumont, describes liminality this way:
During a liminal season we stand on both sides of thresholds. We have one foot rooted in something that is not yet over, whereas the other foot is planted in a thing not yet defined, something not ready to begin. Our old operating structures may no longer work. . . . Our strategic identities – who we are, who we serve, and what we feel called to do or become – were shaped by old experiences. We may no longer be served well by these outdated constructs, but we aren’t certain what we need next. (7)
God, isn’t that the truth? Beaumont goes on to say that “we are engaged in a transformation, the outcome of which is presently unknowable. The basic models and processes that define church are being deconstructed. They are crumbling around us. Some new ways are emerging, but we do not yet know what the new world order will be, what forms of institutional church, if any, will remain” (8). And this liminal space is difficult for the people going through it, as well as our leaders. It’s exhausting, disorienting, and anxiety-producing (8-9).
How can leaders help people navigate this liminal space? People may, out of their fear, assume that liminality is a bad thing, that it’s the failure of their leadership (13). In reality, though, groups and institutions regularly move through liminal seasons; they’re a normal part of life. Leaders have to keep the anxiety of people in check but also allow them to feel what’s happening (9). Leaders have to keep it real. They have to be present while their members wrestle with their vulnerability and uncertainty. Sometimes they need to show their own vulnerability. Leading during a liminal season is not about having answers. How can anyone have answers when no one knows where it’s all going? It’s more about staying present while what’s becoming is becoming. “An effective leader will teach people about the importance and value of a liminal season, why they are feeling the way they are feeling, and what they can do with their anxiety” (13).
Also, it’s not up to leaders alone. Something really important could emerge during this time — communitas. “In communitas, a sense of common humanity emerges in which all members are experienced as equals. Old hierarchies dissolve or are ignored. A sense of fellowship, spontaneity, and warmth emerges within newly undifferentiated social relationships; a new ethos of interrelatedness springs forth” (15). So, liminal seasons can be tremendous opportunities for communities to grow closer. Rather than pile all of the responsibility onto leaders (or blame them), we as community can be present to each other. Hm. Kind of hard. Kind of empowering too.
I don’t know about you, but all of this really speaks to how I’m feeling. The uncertain space between what was and what’s becoming — yes, I’m totally there. The disorientation and anxiety and exhaustion — all there. I don’t love that we’re in this space, but naming it this way helps me to normalize it; it validates it. Also, I think it’s good news that what could emerge from this disorienting deconstruction is communitas. As things crumble, community could become more genuine, connected, and engaged. It could become more like a circle than a hierarchical line. That part sounds pretty good to me.
Let’s look back at our leader and pillar of faith, Moses, standing up there, staff in hand, arms raised but supported. Remember that Moses kind of fell into leadership, or, really, was pulled into it by God. That burning bush got him. Moses doubted himself, but God reassured him that God would be there with him. And God was. God was with Moses and the people through the plagues, through the journey out of Egypt, through this new space of wandering in the desert. I’ve heard some people say that the path through the desert was actually a short one if you took it directly. The people’s wandering for forty years was not about the distance or unavailability of GPS. It was a liminal space. They were no longer slaves. They weren’t in Egypt anymore. They were on their own together as God’s chosen people, but what the heck does that mean? And you know the stories. There’s a lot of grumbling. The people complain all the time, and Moses grumbles to God about the people, although sometimes he defends them too. He brings them the Law. They screw it up and revert to the golden calf. In all of these stories, we can see their anxiety, disorientation, and exhaustion. They blame Moses. They blame God.
It’s one step forward two steps back, but through that liminal space, the Israelites become a people; they eventually come to communitas. In the reading we have today, we have a glimpse into how Moses is leading this people through their liminal space. He’s standing on a hill being visibly present. He’s also spiritually, emotionally, and mentally present to them. And he’s not alone. He has two community members standing with him, holding up his arms. They’re all in it together, and God is present through all of it, not just in a magic stick, but deeply with each one of them.
Reading the Book of Exodus is like looking into a mirror, at least for me. I sometimes identify with Moses, but right now I’m feeling like the Israelites, the grumbling, anxious, confused Israelites. I’m feeling the liminal space in our church and in religious life, and, honestly, sometimes, I’m freaking out a little. I don’t want our structures to crumble, literally and figuratively. However, I do have moments in which I can open myself to the very freeing not-yet of this season. We could become anything! The Spirit is very much at work, and in liminal spaces, I can sometimes see it. In this season, I hope our leaders know God’s love and presence with them, and I hope they know the love of their communities too. Maybe they need a little support from time to time when their arms get tired. Maybe all of us need a little support when we’re tired. I do. I hope we can look to our leaders and, in the spirit of communitas, I hope we can look to each other. And just like God was with the Israelites, God is present with us too.
So, throw your hands up in the air, everyone, even if you sometimes feel like you’re kind of tired. We are all part of what’s becoming. We may not know what it is. There may not be answers now, but God is with us. Amen.
For reflection:
Have you ever experienced a liminal space, neither where you have been nor where you’re going? How did you get through this time?
What are some of the challenges of a liminal season? What feelings stir up within you?
What are some of the gifts of this time?
What do you need from your leaders?
If you yourself have a leadership role, what support do you need?
Spend a few minutes talking with God about all of this.
Here’s the book that’s referenced:
Beaumont, Susan. How to Lead When You Don't Know Where You're Going: Leading in a Liminal Season. Rowman & Littlefield, 2019.
The title references a song by Lorde called “Teams.” Hope you enjoy that too!
By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP
Leslie is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, and meaningful conversations.
