Little Moments are Often the Most Breathtaking

I am going to go out on a limb and say that the summertime brings joy to many people. A balanced mixture of sunshine and warm weather has always been the driving factor for my love for summer. Luckily for me, this summer I have the amazing opportunity to enjoy the wonderful joys of summer at Grunewald Guild located in Leavenworth, WA.

During my time as an undergrad at Valpo I have used the summers away from school as a time of self-reflection and intend to do the same this summer. My method of daily self-reflection usually entails asking myself, “What is one memorable thing that has happened today?” Sometimes I can easily pinpoint a moment that stood out to me, but sometimes it takes more time to find a significant moment each day. Whenever I struggle to immediately pinpoint a memorable moment, I am forced to replay the day’s events in my head, often highlighting the little moments that go overlooked in the moment. And now that I am officially beginning my summer at the Guild, I would like to share some of the little moments that I found on my journey out here.

My summer adventure started off with a connecting train ride into the windy city of Chicago. This initial train ride was my first time on a train and was an excellent precursor to the long 42-hour train ride headed out west. During the ride, I tried to soak in the sights and memories of Northwest Indiana because I wouldn’t see cornfields again for at least a few months. The sight of the fields reminded me of my family and friends that I was leaving behind for the summer. Something as simple as a cornfield helped me reflect about my loved ones and it helped ease the nerves of traveling across the country.

As the train continued its tracks towards the coast, the passengers were instructed that the train was stopping for a weather delay in Wisconsin Dells, WI. What was initially a 45-minute delay turned into a 2-hour long conversation with other passengers, including another CAPS Fellow. At first the weather delay seemed to put a damper on the trip but turned out to be quite the opposite. It got passengers talking and cracking jokes to one another to pass the time. Through the mutual connection of being stuck on the train and the less-than-ideal weather, many bonds were created through passengers. Some of these bonds lasted for the remainder of the trip in the form of having a buddy to talk to during maintenance stops along the route. Again, something that many may see as insignificant or even detrimental ended up being one of the highlights of the journey.

While my journey out west has concluded for the time being I will continue to make every day memorable. Whether it is a fun conversation or taking a few extra moments to look at flowers, there will be no moment overlooked – no matter how little they seem.

Corey McClure, Grunewald Guild

Surprise Feathers, or Cultivating Prophetic Voice

Yellow Thighed Finch, Costa Rica

As we explore questions of leadership and service at Valpo, we talk a lot about leadership in times of complexity and challenge, or serving the world’s deep needs. While it is valuable and necessary to think about how we can change things for the better, our leadership and service must also be marked by a humility that understands that “we” might not have the right answers, or the tools necessary to “fix,” and that we might actually need to change something about ourselves, rather than about the world.

More to the point, what happens when we see the world as good as we lead and serve? What happens when we see those we seek to serve as having assets, resources and capital that we ourselves might not have? Does anything change?

In my capacity as a Lutheran Deaconess, I was recently invited to share with students of the Lutheran Diaconal Association at Valparaiso University on the topic of one of our diaconal hallmarks: Prophetic Voice. This powerful hallmark reads:

“Individually and as a community, the diaconate points to God’s vision of shalom (peace, wholeness, and salvation) for the whole creation. Through action and word, the diaconate raises a prophetic voice, calling and recalling the church to its diaconal task, advocating with those whose voices have not yet been heard, exposing injustice and oppression and reminding all God’s people that in God’s realm the least is the greatest. Lest they lose sight of God’s vision of shalom, members of the diaconate also remain open to the prophetic voice of others, especially those on the margins, who challenge them to remain faithful to their diaconal call.”

Specifically, the diaconal students were looking at this point in the hallmark: “A Deaconess/Deacon identifies personal power and cultural privilege, using these as opportunities to lift up those caught in cycles of powerlessness and oppression.”

Susan L Maros points out in her book, Calling in Context, that it’s often harder to see our own power, and easier to see where we feel our power is lacking. In situations where we are the ones with personal power and cultural privilege, how do we learn to identify this and to listen to the abundance present in the world, to the voices of those who have assets and resources we have never considered?

Rabbi Abraham Heschel, an inspiration and mentor for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, writes in the introduction to his book on the Prophets that the key attitude to cultivating a prophetic stance is to be “sensitive to God’s spirit” and to “know what we see rather than see what we know.”

What does this mean, knowing what we see rather than seeing what we know? I am reminded of the time that I was bird watching in a Costa Rican cloud forest, practicing my binocular skills with some US university students. I saw a gray bird in a cypress tree, looking quite unremarkable. I almost walked right by. Then I used my binoculars and saw that the bird actually had bright yellow “pants,” feathers along its legs that are a delightful surprise. This aptly-named Yellow Thighed Finch is endemic to Costa Rica and Panama, and thus by identifying it upon closer inspection I was able to see a bird that very few people in the world actually get to see.

How many times have we assumed we knew what we were looking at, whether it be a bird, or a political question, or a conversation with our partner or other relative? How often do we take the time for a closer look? How often do we stick with it long enough to be surprised?

The particular challenge of the diaconal hallmark comes when we are asked to identify personal power and cultural privilege. Those of us with a lot of power and privilege don’t get our assumptions questioned very often. It can be easy to run roughshod over others through simple “privilege inertia” that allows us to plow forward even if what we are doing is nonsensical, or at worst, harmful to others. When we come from a position of personal privilege and cultural power, standing for God’s shalom means problematizing our own position, and practicing humility and justice.

Can we with power and privilege come to know better what we see, and be humbled by the bright yellow feathers on the seemingly simple, gray bird? And when we notice and understand the strength held by others, how does this change our behavior?

A friend recently pointed out that people who speak two languages are not often credited with the unique strength that is being bilingual. Bilingualism brings with it many more benefits than simply being able to speak two languages. The US Department of Education points out that bilingual people have better critical thinking skills, are better at remembering information, have an easier time with math and logic, and can more easily understand and learn more languages. They can code switch between cultures, understand divergent viewpoints, and even identify more emotions and ideas due to the fact that they have a larger vocabulary overall. And yet, in our society students with a first language other than English are seen as “behind” in school, Deaf people are losing access to ASL in school, and high-stakes standardized tests are built for monolingual English speakers, failing to showcase the strengths of bilingual people.

What other areas have you noticed where characteristics that are largely seen as deficits might actually be assets? How does changing our mind about these characteristics open us to promoting God’s shalom in our communities?

-by Deaconess Kat Peters, M.Ed, M.A, Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service

Photo credit: By Cephas – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34218026

Making Space for Questions and Complexity

Last week, I had the privilege of conversing with Dr. Kevin Gary’s CORE 115 students, who are exploring “Vocation and the Good Life” through their reading, discussion, and writing this semester. College can be such a rich space for delving into these questions, particularly at Valpo, and I was deeply curious. What were they mulling over? What did they think it might mean to live well? How were they seeking to understand and discern a sense of vocation or purpose? What sort of conversation were they having, with writers and with each other, to get at such questions in earnest?

In our discussion, students brainstormed, teasing out the defining elements of “vocation” and a “good life” from their previous reading and reflection. They highlighted the importance of intentionality and humility in cultivating a deeper sense of joy or contentment (as opposed to chasing happiness). They mentioned how crucial self-reflection and awareness are, and how we must lean into growth (and sometimes discomfort) to discern and live well. We also reflected on role models and communities that anchor and orient us, the ways we are called outside of ourselves, and how–for many–faith underpins even trying to frame these questions at all. Suffice it to say, they were pondering and synthesizing an impressive range of potent ideas–ideas that suggested more fulfilling ways of being in the world, ways of leading and serving with intention.

Exploring such questions and concepts isn’t tidy and easily determined. Indeed, it’s not something you can assume you’ll have fully figured out at twenty two, or even thirty five or seventy for that matter (see “humility” above). But then again, exploring questions that continue to yield nuance and new insights across your life should be part of the point of college. We invite these questions in many places on this campus. It’s happening through informal conversations, advising meetings, student org groups, and cafeteria lunches, as well as in classrooms. I’m grateful that we as a campus community can cultivate space for that reflective work in all sorts of environments and contexts. Because, as most of us already know, that sort of deeper engagement can be hard to find time for elsewhere.

In a recent book project, Meghan Sullivan and Paul Blaschko compellingly differentiate between the approach to what they label the “surveyed life” versus one rooted in reflection and examination, suggesting that there is a persistent pull to skate on the surface rather than probe the depths of messier complexities:

“This survey approach is everywhere in our lives right now. And in the right doses, it can be healthy. Although the constant data collection and behavioral management can get a bit intrusive, there’s a reason we let our phones count our steps, monitor our heart rates, remind us to meditate, and organize reports in easy-to-digest diagrams. . . . Still, the survey approach is radically insufficient to address the bigger questions. A well-lived life is integrated and thoughtful; it doesn’t consist in robotically conforming our lives to whatever the data suggests at the moment…” (9-10).

To put this another way, as much as we might wish or pretend otherwise, we can’t life-hack our way to purpose. Information is not the same as insight. There isn’t “one weird trick” that can magically transport us to a good life.

Rather, we’re called to something more interesting and complicated: an iterative process of discovery and engagement, experiences of reflection and practice that move us beyond ourselves. I know I’m still figuring it out, in community and with the gift of good conversation partners–among them, first-year students raising thoughtful points about vocation on a recent Tuesday morning.

–Dr. Anna Stewart, ILAS Director

Calling is not a straight line

When I was a Valpo student, vocation was often discussed in my circles as being the place where one’s “deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” This is a classic statement from Frederick Buechner. It’s shorthand, while also holding important meaning. In fact, Buechner helpfully gives some practice examples of this, suggesting that writing cigarette ads might be fun but probably not helpful, and that being a doctor in a leper colony is very helpful, but if it drains your joy then may not be your best-fit vocation.

The image that this formula always brings to my mind is that of a cross-hairs: two straight lines that find a center, a bullseye. The world’s need on the x-axis, my gladness on the y-axis. In this image, as an undergraduate, I found a target with a point system, like the archery targets I used to practice on at summer camp. Miss the mark, lose the game. If I cannot find my center, my purpose, will my life be worth living?

In my work in development studies, we confront the same problem – how to define development, how to measure it? One key problem to the idea of development is that it necessitates the existence of “underdeveloped” places and people, those who need to be brought into alignment with a “better” way of life. There is a target, and you can hit the mark, or miss it.

This may not be Buechner’s intent, and a charitable reading will give him the benefit of the doubt. Hopefully everyone can find themselves at this crossroads. But images bring with them connotations, and this image of the axes connotes targets, success, failures. What if a different image were a little more helpful?

Valpo is also home to several labyrinths. There are two outdoor labyrinths, one located on the east side of the Chapel of the Resurrection, and one at the Lutheran Diaconal Association center. There is also an indoor, portable canvas labyrinth, which was used at a session for MLK Day in January on spiritual resources for action and contemplation.

As Travis Scholl (‘96), the author of Walking the Labyrinth: A Place to Pray and Seek God and the presenter at the MLK Day session, eloquently points out, a labyrinth is the opposite of a straight line. In fact, the center of the labyrinth is not located at the crosshairs, and the way to the center takes the longest and most circuitous route possible within the space. Moreover, the center of the labyrinth is not a dot, but an empty place.

What does this mean for our journey of understanding our purpose and calling? As many of us can attest, years or decades after college graduation, life does not play out in a series of straight lines. If we find a magical “bullseye” where we feel fulfilled, glad, and useful, this feeling may not last or it may not be present every day.

Scholl tells us that the empty center of the labyrinth demonstrates the emptiness of our clichés and our pieties, and calls us to understand that all we can do in our search for purpose is to find ourselves in the present moment. In that moment we find ourselves face to face not with our definitions, aspirations, or accomplishments, but with our Creator, who tells us that we were created for just this moment, that we are enough. No instructions beyond that. That simple, and that difficult.

Where our previous ideas told us we fell short, that we are lacking, in the center of the labyrinth all that we have walked before comes to fruition in the moment, and meets the moment, if only we can trust.

And then, rather than congratulating ourselves for hitting the target, we walk the long and winding path back out into the world to live and act in the present moment, having experienced the center.

by Kat Peters, Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service
Photo credit Pastor Kate Museus

The Division of Calling and Spiritual Life (ILAS and the Chapel) is working with campus partners this Lent and this spring to bring the canvas labyrinth to different corners of the university. We invite you to watch for this labyrinth, or to visit the outdoor labyrinths east of the Chapel and in the garden of the Lutheran Diaconal Association Center. We invite you to take the first step, to take one step at a time, to reach the center of your life.

Cross-Purposes at the Threshold

It’s that time of year—in the calendar and in the rhythm of college life—when we instinctively look ahead. Perhaps we declare a resolution to those around us, or search out an app to download that will help us track and manage our habits. (Our consumption culture has just finished a season of encouraging us to indulge, after all, and now we’re exhorted to take control so that adds some pressure, too.)

On college campuses, soon-to-be graduating seniors are often peering more earnestly into the future, as well—perhaps finalizing applications or awaiting graduate school decisions; seeking to network and interview for positions that are still coming into focus; wondering with a mix of excitement and uncertainty about a position that they may have already secured; navigating relational commitments and how best to live into them in this next period; recalibrating as plans shift.

In all this, possibilities beckon, sometimes pulling in quite different directions.

I often think of these as “threshold moments” (a term I’m not alone in embracing but one whose genesis is unclear to me). This metaphor implies a rich backstory with any number of experiences that have formed and shaped us, and we’re about to walk into a new space, still connected to what came before but also distinctly its own. In my personal experience, thresholds stir up all sorts of emotions because I’m more keenly aware of being poised between past and future, moving forward and looking back. If I’m being honest, my life is a series of these thresholds, and not just at the big milestone markers like graduation. Thresholds always seem to loom larger, though, when accompanied with extra signposting and expectation.

Lately, I’ve been privileged to share thoughtful, searching conversations with several seniors approaching graduation as they weigh options and an abiding desire to live fully and meaningfully into their values while embracing a sense of purpose. Even if they are still discovering more about themselves everyday (as we all are), they can eloquently describe what they care about, what they are good at, and what is life-giving for them as individuals and as community members engaged in broader concerns…but how precisely do you fit those pieces together? What shape does it make? How do you choose this shape over that one?

I can hear my own deliberations echoed in these questions, and even though I recognize it as a fallacy, I feel the pull of single, simple answers. We seek clarity and certainty. It must be this…just one clear thing, please.

It is both fortunate and frustrating that our purpose is more complex and more multi-faceted, that it can’t be neatly winnowed down to one role, that it resists the bounds of being defined by just position or career. This is actually life-giving news (even if it doesn’t always feel that way). It translates into the abundance of “both/and” possibilities, eschewing the logic of “either/or.”

In my conversations with college students, it seems to me that they often perceive their threshold as a front door as they leave the relatively safe confines of home or college life for a wide and somewhat unfamiliar world. In these sorts of moments, we are called to the present, to paying attention and responding as we discern and take the best next step. But that step doesn’t have to be perfect or permanently defining. One of the lessons that I personally take away from Christianity and the Lutheran heritage of this particular place is that we are not fully defined by where we find ourselves. There is a God who travels beyond all thresholds—there in our spaces of home and comfort, there on the open road, always with us and holding us.

For me, the words from what our family calls the Holden Prayer ring true at the threshold. We are called to “ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden.” We are invited to a next step on still unfolding journeys.

–by Dr. Anna Stewart, Director of the Institute for Leadership & Service

Discerning Calling and Purpose

Why are we here? What is my purpose in life? Who am I and how do I show up in the world? These are a few of the very big questions that we ask around here, in the Division of Calling and Spiritual Life, at Valparaiso University, at the Institute for Leadership and Service, in the church.

I admit, there are days when these questions are a little too big for me, to the point of being incomprehensible or illogical. In fact, the older I get, the less I profess to know, as Anne Lamott points out in her recent essay on knowing less and less every year.

What to do when we look around at society? What are we supposed to do with a refugee crisis that is sending thousands of people into our cities and towns every day? What are we supposed to do with wars that find their way to our streets and campuses? What purpose can we find in climatic events that destroy homes, livelihoods, and political stability?

Does the concept of Christian vocation stand up to these deep challenges?

Jennifer Grant Haworth provides helpful direction in her chapter entitled “Discerning God’s Call,” in the volume On Our Way: Christian Practices for Living a Whole Life, edited by Dorothy C. Bass and Susan R. Briehl. Haworth does not suppose that living into our callings, or vocations, will somehow solve all of the world’s problems, or tell us which path to choose after graduation. Rather, she describes vocation as a “call from God to love and grow in love – with self, others, and God” (p. 37).

We can do this through a centuries-old Christian practice known as discernment. Here is how Haworth describes the practice:

“Through individual reflection and conversation with others, the Christian practice of discernment invites us (1) to pay attention to our daily experience and what it stirs in us; (2) to reflect on what we notice there, sorting and sifting in order to understand what is leading to greater life and love and what is not; and (3) to take loving action on what we have learned” (p. 41).

Susan L. Maros, for her part in her book Calling and Context, reminds us that this process of discernment has to do with work that God is already doing in the world. We are listening for this transforming work, and looking for how our own experience and formation equips us to be a part of God’s work.

It turns out that this process of vocational discernment is not so much future-oriented as it is a practice of being in the present moment, of paying attention, reflecting, and then acting when the Spirit urges. We also consider our past formation, understanding that God is preparing and equipping us all along to meet the present moment.

Recently, a group of Lutheran Christians in Valparaiso that I know discerned that they will support a Venezuelan refugee family who is trying to make their way to the United States. For now, this support meant lending two names to a document of “US Contact Persons.” While sitting in the meeting where this was decided, I was struck by how the group relied on their past experiences, knowledge, and formation, and how they carefully listened to God’s voice in the wider situation and in each other, telling them that they are ready to take on this challenge.

A different group, with a different past, would not come to the same conclusion. Yet this group has had past formation through helping other refugee families, through visiting Central America and hearing refugee stories firsthand, through their connections with agencies and individuals in Valparaiso who know how to help make things happen for folks in need.

This group had prayed for a chance to serve in their own community, and had prayed for a chance to help refugees, and God provided the opportunity. They still don’t know when or even if the family will be able to make it to the United States, but they are living out their calling in the moment, responding to promptings of the Spirit, making the next small step in faith toward an unknown future.

Sometimes (most times!) those big and lofty questions of calling and vocation point us to exactly where we are, to some unexpected and yet usually obvious (in hindsight) answer of where God is already acting. Much like the song by Will Todd sung by the Valparaiso University Chorale at Christmas at Valpo this past weekend:

“Shepherds, called by angels,

Called by love and angels;

No place but a stable.

My Lord has come.

Sages, searching for stars

Searching for love in heaven;

No place for them but a stable.

My Lord has come.

His love will hold me,

His love will cherish me,

Love will cradle me.

Lead me, lead me to see him,

Sages and shepherds and angels;

No place for me but a stable.

My Lord has come.”

In our Division of Calling and Spiritual Life, we are currently accepting applications to our summer fellowship program called the Calling and Purpose in Society (CAPS) Fellows Program. This is an opportunity to live out a calling in the moment, but also to practice the steps of discernment and deep listening, to learn about situations in the world that require attention and response. The experience will prepare students to approach future issues of calling and purpose with tools of reflection, community, and a responsive attitude.

If you or someone you know are interested in the CAPS Program, you can find more information on our website, or write to us at lead.serve@valpo.edu.

-by Deaconess Kat Peters, M.Ed., M.A., Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service

Lavishing Attention in Uncertain Times

Lately, I’ve been stopping to admire the light a lot. The way autumnal light, beaming lower on the horizon, bathes the crimsons, ambers, and golds of trees this time of year. Earlier dusks painting the sky in clear, breathless beauty as I walk to my car under increasingly bare tree limbs. The warmth of a single candle flickering by the sofa – one among many antidotes to those fast-darkening evenings and the chilly mornings when I rise. The pastel hues of my daughter’s miniature lava lamp, casting patterns across her ceiling at bedtime to ward off unwelcome shadows.

These may be small details, observations half-formed in a midday or mid-evening moment, but for me they are also potent reminders – calling me to pay attention to the world around me, to the sacred and the small, to the reverence such details and moments can invite.

In An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith, writer Barbara Brown Taylor delves lyrically into how being intentional, purposeful, and fully present not only grounds us as human beings but points us toward God and deeper meaning. In one of the book’s chapters, “The Practice of Paying Attention,” she describes the virtue of cultivating reverence, a practice she now recognizes that she encountered early in her childhood:

“From [my father] I learned by example that reverence was the proper attitude of a small and curious human being in a vast and fascinating world of experience. This world included people and places as well as things. Full appreciation of it required frequent adventures, grand projects, honed skills, and feats of daring. Above all, it required close attention to the way things worked, including one’s own participation in their working or not working.” [19]

Brown Taylor draws on philosopher Simone Weil (among other writers and thinkers), braiding together considerations from several religious traditions as she ponders how truly paying attention – or with a nod to my own English-major desire for verbs with flair! – lavishing attention on the people, places, and things around us can open us up to reverence. Those seemingly small details just might contain multitudes.

In other words, what might at first blush seem like pausing to consider the trivial in fact becomes a path to something far bigger.

Paraphrasing another philosopher, Brown Taylor muses that reverence (borne out of a kind of sustained attention) is ultimately “the recognition of something greater than the self – something that is beyond human creation or control, that transcends full human understanding.” Reverence, she writes, “stands in awe of something – something that dwarfs the self, that allows human beings to sense the full extent of our limits – so that we can begin to see one another more reverently as well.” [21]

As a lifelong lover of literature and a longtime teacher, I found additional appreciation for this cycle of attention and reverence, walking students through complex texts and guiding them through the practices of close reading. Carefully attending to details, small moments, nuance, and texture – truly lavishing attention, even between the covers of a novel–can open us up to one another. Reading narratives this way can help us to also read the world, inviting us into one another’s stories. These practices of close reading, in books and in life, help us reckon with our limits even as we also celebrate our part in a human story far greater than our own.

A little over two weeks ago, I was preparing a brief homily for Monday Morning Prayer. Drawing on the Division of Calling and Spiritual Life’s “Reset/Refresh” theme as well as the year’s morning prayer series “This is How I Sabbath (or Try To),” I decided to reflect on how Sabbath-time can summon us toward this sort of lavish attention.

The scripture for the morning, Psalm 104, delights in the reverent details. The psalmist imagines:

“the sea, vast and spacious,

teeming with creatures beyond number–

living things both large and small.

The ships go to and fro…”

Even a sea-monster appears, “frolicking” in the expansive ocean.

The psalm offers a beautiful meditation on how lavishing attention can reorient us, pulling us into reverence. I found myself pondering and grappling with this anew when, the day before the scheduled Monday Morning Prayer homily, our campus community learned that one of our students had been violently attacked and rushed to a hospital across the state for critical care.

Tomorrow we will gather as a campus to remember Varun Raj Pucha, who tragically died of those injuries, and to lift up his life. I did not have the privilege of knowing Varun, but I have been grateful for glimpses of him carried through the words of his family, friends, and professors. The pieces of his story and others’ memories of him do not constitute his life, all that he was, or all that he was in the process of becoming. But they can offer us a chance to attend, to revere even as we say goodbye, to gather around a few powerful reminders of a beautiful story that was still being written and of a reverence that beckons us all.

-by Dr. Anna Stewart, ILAS Director

Photo credit: Amy Smessaert, Lutheran Diaconal Association

Valpo embraces Día de los Muertos

Students and faculty will gather at several locations across campus this week to celebrate Día de los Muertos, a Hispanic cultural tradition honoring loved ones who have passed away. The kick-off event will be an evening of crafting and pozole, a traditional Mexican soup, from 6-8 p.m. on Oct. 30. The Valpo community also had the opportunity to submit photos of their loved ones to be displayed on commemorative ofrendas, Spanish for offerings, on the second floor of the Christopher Center Library, Harre Union, Loke Hall and the Gloria Christi Chapel Nov. 2-8.

Sonia Morales, Assistant Director of OMP (Office of Multicultural Programs), and Kat Peters, Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service (within the Division of Calling and Spiritual Life), have been instrumental in fostering the collaboration that makes these events possible. This year, the celebrations have expanded to other facilities, in part to accommodate students who wouldn’t usually find themselves in the Chapel.

“So, it was a project that was a collaboration between OMP and Calling and Spiritual Life. We wanted to continue working on that, and this year, we wanted to make it bigger,” Morales said. “We wanted to include the library and the Union because [they] are the places where the students are more willing to go.”

Both Morales and Peters are enthusiastic about the opportunities that these partnerships present to reach a wider segment of the Valpo community, and welcome the contributions that other facilities and organizations can contribute.

“It’s really neat, because it does seem like it’s growing. It’s a campus-wide collaboration, which is something that is really important to us here at the Helge [Center] and in Calling and Spiritual Life. [We are] partnering with many places so that we can do projects together,” Peters said.

Morales too expressed the importance of embracing the opportunity to learn from their collaborators and improve their programming by doing so. She hopes that these collaborations will continue to evolve and flourish in the future.

“Something that has been really important is to understand what are things that everyone could bring to the table … We are also learning a lot about the departments that are working with us and we’re thinking [about how] they could keep working with us in different ways,” Morales said.

For Peters, this is an expression of the commitment to holistic education and embracing opportunities that characterize both the university’s mission and the Lutheran faith.

“I think there are some really neat statements out about the university’s calling … For example, it talks about symbols of faith [are] core to our mission, and Lutheran tradition calls us to serve our neighbors, embrace our differences and work to make quality education accessible to all who seek it,” Peters said.

Morales noted the similarities between Día de los Muertos and Christian traditions such as All Saints’ Day. She views the parallels between them as an opportunity for meaningful connection, and a way to come together to process the grief the community has experienced.

“Valpo celebrates All Saints’ Day where we read the names of all who have passed in the previous year … So it’s like we’ve always been doing this. But here’s another specific cultural way we can celebrate and remember, and so we can do this all together,” Peters said. “This is an important part in the healing process. I think with everything going on in the world and coming out of COVID, I don’t think that we’ve processed all of our grief about everything … which is a really healthy thing to do.”

Peters emphasized the mutual benefit of interacting with different cultural traditions, but also believes that Día de los Muertos has an impact that transcends culture. She hopes to continue this in the years to come.

“It’d be great to just keep adding … We are a family and we all get to work together even across cultural differences or bringing different traditions together. And that’s something that’s going to benefit everyone,” Peters said. “So it’s not just a cultural event, it has spiritual and emotional significance that we hope makes a difference in people’s lives.”

Students interested in participating in Día de los Muertos programming can consult the relevant flyers around campus or contact omp@valpo.edu or chapel@valpo.edu for more information.

– Carolyn Dilbeck ’25

Remembering Our Loved Ones on Day of the Dead

Dear Valpo Community,

Valparaiso University has a long-held tradition of celebrating All Saints Day, in which we remember those who have passed away in the last year. Names are read on All Saints Sunday (November 5, 2023), including the names of those who have died from our university community, whose photos are displayed all year on the third floor of the Christopher Center Library. Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a Latin American tradition to honor and commemorate the lives of the loved ones who are no longer with us, and to welcome acknowledging their continuing presence in our lives. The main part of this cultural-spiritual tradition is the ofrenda, an ornamental space dedicated to honoring our relatives. This year, Valpo wants to bring this important tradition to four key locations on campus to celebrate Dia de los Muertos in the university community.

We want to invite you to join us in celebrating that death does not separate us from our loved ones. You can be part of this tradition by sending a picture of your deceased loved ones through this form before October 27th, to be placed in one of the four ofrendas. We will print and frame your pictures to be placed on the ofrenda of your choice.

Consider joining us Monday evening, October 30th, in the Helge Center Multipurpose Room at 6:30 PM, to eat pozole and prepare elements of the ofrendas.This cultural tradition brings communities together. We hope that all Valpo Families can gather together to spend time sharing stories from their ancestors. The Ofrenda will be displayed in the Gloria Christi Chapel (lower level), the Christopher Center (2nd floor), the Harre Union (Grand Lounge), and Loke Hall (Brave Space) from November 1st to November 8th. The Chapel will be open until 10:00 pm During this time, please use the Gloria Christi Chapel entrance (east side of the Chapel) during concerts and events.

Blessings,

Calling and Spiritual Life/Institute for Leadership and Service, Office of Multicultural Programs, Department of World Languages and Cultures, Christopher Center for Library and Information Resources, Student Life

Listening for Purpose

By Kat Peters, Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service

Calling and Spiritual Life Newsletter, October 11, 2023

My friend Julio is a rapper in Costa Rica – he comes from a Nicaraguan immigrant family that lives in a precario (what we call in the English translation a “shantytown”). He raps about social issues that he sees in his community, an active place filled with the noise of life – music, conversations, construction, cooking, playing, vehicles, and more. In order to hear himself think and without having regular access to a recording studio, he regularly records in his car, where he can have some quiet. In both literal and artistic ways he’s trying to cut through the noise to help us listen to his message.

As a staff here at the Institute for Leadership and Service we have been talking a lot about listening this semester. ILAS thinks about leadership and service on campus as flowing from a sense of purpose and calling. As part of the Division of Calling and Spiritual Life, we recognize that our purpose and calling are genuine expressions of being in alignment with the work that is already going on in the world, work being done by God.

In his 1980 speech at Spelman College, Howard Thurman called this alignment with ongoing, true work the “sound of the genuine”. Thurman pointed out that we are all listening for the sound of the genuine in ourselves, and in other people.

What does it take to hear the sound of the genuine in ourselves in others, and to hear it well enough to come into alignment with it as we explore our purpose in life? It takes real listening, which requires attentiveness, quiet, and a willingness to engage with difference, something Sharon Daloz Parks calls “the power of constructive encounters with otherness.”

Valparaiso University Black Student Organization (BSO) President, Tékeidra Masters, expressed this idea in a recent interview with the Torch for We Matter Week: “We have to realize that in order to be a servant leader, you have to be willing to serve those in need… and 9 times out of 10… they’re going to have some kind of difference, because we’re human and we’re diverse… [We Matter Week] isn’t just a BSO thing. This is a community effort to uplift voices that are unheard, a community effort to listen, a community effort to learn, a community effort to celebrate, a community effort to pass on this information…”

As we listen, we are open to the reality that the stories people tell will be different from our own narratives, and each of our “narratives are shaped by the context in which we are embedded,” as Susan L. Maros points out in her book Calling in Context: Social Location and Vocational Formation, which we as an ILAS staff are working through this year. These contextual differences make careful listening, accompanied by thoughtful reflection, so important.

Maros argues that “storytelling is an essential part of how we articulate our understanding of the unique nature of our individual and communal responses to God’s calling” (p. 10). We discern the work that God is already doing and contemplate how we are being called to participate in that work, listening to spiritual stories, to our own inner voices, and to each other’s stories.

At ILAS we will soon be unveiling a new podcast called Listening For Purpose. Our student staff will be interviewing campus community members – students, faculty and staff – to listen to those stories and to come to a deeper understanding of our community, with all of the contexts and callings that make it up.

We invite you to listen.

Kat Peters is the Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service at Valparaiso University.

Just Breathe: Morning Prayer Homily

September 25, 2023

Kat Peters (on “How I Sabbath, or Try To”)

Text: Genesis 2:4-7

How is your breathing today? When was the last time you took a deep breath?

Several people have already spoken about the story of Creation as a place for us to ground our thinking about the Sabbath. Today we return to Genesis to look for more clues on how our identity as creatures of God connects us to God’s life-giving self. God breathed into the first human’s nostrils the breath of life.

Breathing is something that we don’t often think about, at least not on a day-to-day basis. If you do yoga, you might remember that you are often asked to return to your breath as you deepen a stretch or a pose. People who are giving birth are coached to breathe as a way to focus through intense pain.

But on a day to day basis, many of us may fall victim to a now-studied phenomenon called “email apnea,” or “screen apnea.” When Linda Stone, a former Microsoft executive studied this, she found that 80 percent of people hold their breath or breathe shallowly while checking email.

During the pandemic, when I was confronted (not for the first time in my life) with the realities of anxiety, I came to understand that a lot of my anxiety can be mediated through physical practices. Getting enough sleep, exercising sufficiently, eating healthy food and drinking water, and yes, breathing, would help solve a large part of my anxiety.

As I focused on my breath, I experienced the strange sensation of questioning whether I deserved to take a deep breath. It was as if I was rushing from obligation to obligation, thought to thought, and that taking a deep breath was somehow wasting time, or being selfish.

Author James Nestor writes in his book “Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art” that deep breathing, especially through the nose, has many positive health effects. He writes about “how the nose filters heat and treats raw air…how it can trigger different hormones to flood into our bodies, how it can lower our blood pressure, how the stages of a woman’s menstrual cycle are correlated to different areas of the nose, how [the nose] monitors heart rate – on and on and on – even helps store memories.” The nose does that.

Nestor also found that deep breaths have calming effects, while fast breathing amps up energy, as a sort of fight or flight response. This is why we have email apnea – like how a cat that is waiting to pounce on prey takes shallow breaths, so we contemplate our next moves on email with bated breath. And then we end up exhausted, even if we were just sitting at our computers all day.

Our reading from Genesis reminds us that the breath into our nostrils that gave us life comes from God. Perhaps this can remind us how sacred our breath is.

When I have been able to give myself permission to take deep breaths, I find that I can slow my thoughts and get a better handle on whatever anxiety I might be experiencing. And cultivating a daily practice of deep breathing (a daily Sabbath practice, if you will) has helped to prevent anxiety from rearing its ugly head too often.

It turns out that this focus on the breath lends itself to prayer and worship. James Nestor found that many religious prayers and songs follow the framework of slow breaths – specifically a five-and-a-half second (or longer) exhale. For the past several weeks I have been noticing in Morning Prayer that many of our hymns and liturgical songs have this exact amount of breathing built in. This morning, I have asked our musicians to do a purposeful breath after each 4 bars of the hymn. I invite you to sing intentionally this way in the last 2 verses of the hymn.

I would like to close with a practice taught to me by the President of my Lutheran Deaconess community, Deaconess Deborah Graf. She encourages the board and the community to practice what is called a Trinitarian Breath Prayer. After I name each person of the Trinity, I invite you to take a long inhale, and a long exhale. It doesn’t much matter what you think about when you do so – the breath, the living breath that comes from God, will do its own work.

Creator God, we thank you for giving us the breath of life. We come to you as creatures in the name of the Father….. And of the Son…. and of the Holy Spirit…. Amen.

Kat Peters is the Assistant Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service at Valparaiso University. This homily was part of the 2023-2024 Monday Morning Prayer series (“How I Sabbath, or Try To”) at the Chapel of the Resurrection.

The Radical Power of a Pause

The start of the academic year invites us to new beginnings and renewed commitments. The welcomes and exhortations at Convocation in the crowded heat of our stunning Chapel. The crisp, clean syllabi passed out, signaling knowledge to explore and problems to solve. A new calendar or planner, awaiting the events, due dates, student org meetings, and group study sessions we will fill it with soon enough (if we haven’t already). It can feel heady and promising–ours to claim and relish as we dive in.

But as much as I love being back on a full campus that’s rich with community, the beginning of the year overwhelms me. I am conscious of all the things that I need to do. Right now. I am conscious of the desperate need to establish new (efficient!) rhythms as campus comes to life and our attendant work (whether we’re students, faculty, or staff) responds in kind. I am conscious of the hubbub–which can be invigorating in its smaller moments, but A LOT when all taken together–that seems to define August and early September.

Basically, I want a break. And we just “started.”

Based on my conversations with others, I don’t think I’m alone. I think it’s pretty normal to feel both excited and overwhelmed this time of year–that so much is calling for our attention and time, and that we want to be present for it but that we also have limits.

One reason I’m naming this start-of-the-school-year feeling is because it’s a potent reminder of the radical power of a pause.

Pastors Kate and Jim have already made a pretty compelling case for this in previous Wednesday newsletters, calling us to remember our human-ness and the ways in which we are made to rest and to Sabbath and “to be.” The Division of Calling and Spiritual Life is leaning in, embracing a collective initiative this year called Reset/Refresh.

In order to get to something like a “reset” or a “refresh,” we have to give ourselves true license to pause and slow down. With any luck, we hopefully encourage one another in the practice, granting each other that same license for rest and reflection so that it’s communally supported. Such support is critical because a thoughtful pause can be a countercultural act. After all, it’s taking time and space apart from the busy-ness that always beckons and seems to reward us in systems built on productivity and a hollow sort of value. (Even as I type these words, I’m blushing at my own hypocrisy and the ways I unthinkingly prop up these false systems of value and the worker-bee mentality they generate.) All that to say, I’m writing about the radical power of pausing and slowing down, not because I’m particularly good at it [see above] but because it’s too important to neglect.

Over the summer, I moved into a new position at the university as the Director of the Institute for Leadership and Service, which is part of the Division of Calling and Spiritual Life. While transitions are always bittersweet, I’m excited to help guide conversations and programs on our campus around value-laden words and accompanying practices: vocation; calling; leadership; service; purpose. There’s such rich possibility to plumb. How do we show up in the world, individually and collectively? How do we discern that, both on our own and in necessary conversation and reflection with others? How do we sort out the distinctive gifts and talents we bring to the world, in dialogue with the urgencies and needs of our neighbors and those we are lucky enough to walk alongside? These are generative questions, but that also means that they elude quick, pat answers and require our thoughtful, fuller attention.

In other words, they require space for reflection. They require pause and the permission “to be.”

As the beginning of the school year calls you into the gifts of a full and active community (which is wonderful and life-giving), I would invite you to participate whole-heartedly, while also giving yourself permission to pause and reflect (which is also wonderful and life-giving). This can be a productive tension, and one that opens you up to a deeper sense of your place on a still-unfolding journey.

As I’m often reminded, it’s a gift to have others accompanying you on the journey, and there are many of us walking alongside you across this campus. Here at the Institute for Leadership and Service (ILAS), we’re a relatively new team, and we’re looking forward to being thoughtful fellow-travelers with you. My colleague Kat Peters (who will write a reflection in this newsletter next month) now heads up our Calling and Purpose in Society (CAPS) fellowship program, among other initiatives, and many of you have already had the privilege of working with our colleague Rachel MacDonald, who now oversees the Christian Formation & Leadership program (including Allen Scholars). We’re eager to be part of the good and meaningful work already taking place on this campus, and to help guide programs that support our campus community members in discernment and reflection, leadership and service.

We look forward to getting to know you better, and to leaning into the invitation being extended by Calling and Spiritual Life this year to reset and refresh. To pause. To be.

Yours on the journey, always.

Dr. Stewart

Learn more about the Institute for Leadership and Service here.

Bittersweet Ending at the Bridge

As I go into my last week of my CAPS internship, I reflect on my time at The Bridge Teen Center. It brings a certain realization when I think about my internship ending and that is how my time as an undergrad is ending as well.

When looking back through the summer, my favorite parts have to be when I would spend time with the students. As the program intern, I get the opportunity to lead and help with programs that the students are in. I was able to lead a program which was a ‘Big Room Hangout & Karaoke’ program. This was a lively program since from start to finish students were singing a song. They went up alone, in pairs, and even groups of three. The students had a lot of fun and so did I! Another program I was able to be in charge of was a ‘Project Serve: Thrift Store’. Students signed up for this program and sorted clothes that were donated to the thrift store. When leading this program I was nervous since there were a lot of things I had to remember to say since I was explaining everything around them. From the clothes racks to what was on the table and even the roles they had to do. I became the person they mainly asked questions to and it made me feel more confident since I felt like they trusted me to know the answers to what they were asking. The best part for me is when they remember my name without looking at my name tag and I am able to do the same.

Another part I have enjoyed is receiving the project of comparing the Bridge Thrift Store to other thrifts in the area. I compared the prices, the departments, the setup, and even the guests inside the store. It was interesting to do this project because I love thrifting and this was a new perspective on thrift stores I never had before. I was looking at them with different eyes since this time I was not there as a customer but I was there as a ‘secret shopper’. The founder, Priscilla, gave me this secret shopper project and allowed me to do it as I wanted to. She gave me full freedom and I felt trustworthy since she was trusting me with this project. With Priscilla, she can be intimidating since she is the founder of the Bridge and is the executive director so the Bridge Teen Center is something she built from the ground up. Getting to know her through this project has shown me that she is not intimidating but she is respected. It has been such an experience to hear Priscilla speak about this project and about her time shaping the Bridge into what it is now and what it will continue growing to be.

As I look to the future, the Bridge Teen Center will be a turning point in what path I take. This has been such a rewarding experience and it is difficult to say goodbye to a place I spent so much time in. I will continue to foster the relationships I made here and hopefully in the future I will be able to volunteer here since it is a part of the community I live in and I want to join that community.

-Mikayla Flanagan, The Bridge Teen Center

My Summer Adventure

My internship has now come to an end and I’m now able to reflect on my entire experience. I moved to Indianapolis at the end of May to begin my internship. When I first arrived I was very nervous and scared. But, I was also excited. The first few days I was a little shy and nervous. My first big surprise was that everybody worked out of a community house instead of a traditional office. But that quickly subsided.

I built a great relationship with mentor and/or supervisor Rasul Muhammad. He really did a good job looking for me over the summer and my experience at Kheprw was so great. I also built such a good relationship with the rest of the staff at Kheprw as well. They cared and looked out for each other. Inside and outside of work. They were more of a family rather than just coworkers.

The internship just furthered my desire to build community in all areas of my life. Whether that be at Valparaiso University, in my hometown of Chicago, or any other place that I may visit and/or potentially move to. It is just amazing to see what Kheprw built and how all the individuals in the community loved them. It was fun to see various people stop by at the porch everyday to just talk to staff and interact with them. Or how people would just stop by if they had a problem and needed someone to talk to. The community was also lively and together. I haven’t seen anything like that before.

I worked on a variety of projects throughout my internship. I worked at a foodshare every other sunday. At the foodshare we passed out free healthy food and vegetables to members of the community. I also helped create a data gathering sentence to track attendance for events at various locations. This information is critical to an organization like Kheprw because they need this data when applying for grants and also this allows them to know who they are interacting with most at events and who is most visiting various locations. This allows them to know how they can further impact the community.

I also completed training on a data gathering tool called Salesforce. I participated in multiple meetings. Those meetings weren’t all about the data space, which was what I primarily worked in. Some of the meetings I sat in helped provide financial training to the community. Also, I learned about something very interesting. That is a community land trust that is being developed inside of Indianapolis. I did not know about community land trusts and was happy to gain knowledge about what they were and how they were created. My last thing that I will say. You will never find a place like the Kheprw Institute anywhere else. It is an unorthodox grassroots non for profit organization. But I’m glad to have found them and they are a very special organization and group of people.

-Chris Gatlin, Kheprw

Saying Goodbye: My Last Week with Heartland Alliance’s VELT Team

As I am completing my last week with Heartland Alliance’s VELT Team, I am both excited for the upcoming school year and a little sad about having to say goodbye to such a wonderful team and group of students. I have had so much fun here and although it was a bit tough for me at first, I have grown so much and I am grateful for
that. I have asked for help more, realized the importance of a work-life balance, taken on new challenges and opportunities, and built relationships with so many different people. I don’t believe I would have grown so much this summer without this experience.

Asking for help and accepting that needed help hasn’t been easy for me. I am very independent and I try to do things on my own as much as possible. I have many different reasons for that but I think the biggest one is that I don’t want to be a burden to anyone and by asking for help I may be taking out of the few resources they have. However, when I got here to Heartland it wasn’t the same and I didn’t realize that until my supervisor commended me for always asking for help when I needed it. Looking back, that was one hundred percent the case during my internship. These students were taking the time out of their day to study and work hard at learning English. So I wanted to be able to support them the best way I could and that involved me asking teachers for help. I learned how to lesson plan, find resources that students needed, and even do administrative work because I asked for help.

Many of the things that I have learned to do will also be some of the things I will miss the most. For my final week I have had the chance to be a substitute teacher for a morning class I have been helping in. Both tutoring my students and teaching in the literacy class have helped me be able to do this. When I first led the class on Thursday I was super nervous because I had never run a two hour class before let alone by myself. I know that it wasn’t exactly like how it would be if their teacher was there and at first it was a bit disappointing. But if there is one thing I have picked up from this summer it will be that everything won’t go perfectly. There will be times when you make a mistake but they are all lessons. I know I made plenty of mistakes when I first started to tutor one- on-one with my students but I know I do way better with teaching them. These are some of things I will miss the most!

Saying goodbye to my students and letting them know that I wouldn’t be teaching them anymore was hard. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I am glad I was able to sit with my supervisor and offer them the chance to get a new tutor. While I won’t be able to keep all my students I am going to be working with a couple of students this Fall! Overall I am grateful for this experience, and every single thing I have learned. Without my coworkers, students, and all the others I have met I wouldn’t have had this great experience!

-Allison Howard, Heartland Alliance Vocational English Language Training

A City Divided

The “Urban Plunge”

One of the activities that I lead with City Service Mission is called the Urban Plunge. This activity is centered around the general idea of food insecurity and the food deserts in not only Washington D.C. but also wherever in the country the visiting group is coming from. The plunge involves bringing the group to Lincoln Park in Capitol Hill and explaining to them the causes and effects of food deserts. After providing context to the activity’s purpose, the group is let loose to go and locate the nearest grocery stores and create a budget based on a hypothetical family who has a household income below the federal poverty line. This is an opportunity for the students to experience a small taste of what it is like to live with food insecurity and begin to think more about how they might play a role in influencing the larger conversation surrounding the issue.

Race and Servitude

During the plunge, a parallel lesson to that of food insecurity is on the matter of race in the district. Lincoln Park is a popular location for nannies to take their kids during the day to get out of the house. These nannies are almost always women of color and the children they look after are almost always white children. This is a great indicator of who lives in the neighborhood of Capitol Hill and who the servants of these residents are. I use the word “servant” intentionally. The town homes in this area are valued at 1.5 – 2.5 million dollars, and it is very obvious that it is a majority white neighborhood, with people of color coming in from surrounding areas to provide services like child-care, house-cleaning, construction, landscaping, etc. As the groups go out and participate in the simulation of the urban plunge, they also take note of the very real racial divide that is ever present in the city. Once they come back to the park after spending time on their own in the city, we have a discussion about it, ultimately identifying that segregation, both physically and socioeconomically, is still a thriving problem in the district as well as other places throughout the country.

Exclusive Inclusivity

Washington D.C. is split almost perfectly down the middle in terms of where different races live throughout the city and in the neighborhoods surrounding it in Maryland and Virginia. While this is something I have been aware of for quite some time, leading groups in the urban plunge has brought this reality to the front of my mind. While the groups are out doing the activity, I get a couple hours to go around the neighborhood, usually to a coffee shop, and each time it has become more prevalent to me that I am often one of two people of color in the establishment, the other being behind the counter. The irony of this is that neighborhoods that have been gentrified in D.C. often wish to send a welcoming message to others by promoting images of inclusivity in their neighborhoods. This includes posting signs like “Black Lives Matter” “All Are Welcome” “LGBTQ Pride” etc. in their yards and windows, but the subliminal messages people, children, receive in these areas is that people of color are the ones who are meant to “do the work for us here but live with them over there.”

What do We Learn?

While this is personally challenging, aggravating, and discouraging, leading the urban plunge provides a great opportunity to talk about the issues of food insecurity, gentrification, segregation, and NIMBYism (Not-In-My-Back-Yard-ism) with kids and adults who otherwise may never have seen the reality of such things. It is always very encouraging to hear the students talk about how the experience has impacted them afterwards, and I hope to continue spreading that message as I continue in this line of work.

– Fox Wilmot, City. Service. Mission.

Embracing the Transformative Power of Music and Prayer at Lutheran Summer Music

Stepping into the world of music as a social work major with an art minor at Lutheran Summer Music (LSM) was an intimidating yet transformative experience. Among the many incredible aspects of LSM, my involvement in the chapel choir stood out as a profound journey of self-discovery, connection, and spiritual growth. Reflecting on my time in the choir and the daily morning and evening prayer rituals, I am reminded of the transformative power of music and prayer within a supportive community.

The chapel choir at LSM became more than just a group of individuals singing together; it evolved into a supportive community that embraced me with open arms. Despite my initial insecurities about not having extensive musical knowledge or the ability to read music, the choir members and our dedicated choir director fostered an environment of acceptance, encouragement, and unity. Together, we created something beautiful through our collective voices, transcending our individual limitations. The chantor said in my first chapel choir rehearsal, “This is practice; you’re supposed to make mistakes. So make them loudly and make them proudly.” These words have resonated with me ever since, reminding me that the journey of learning and growth is meant to be embraced with enthusiasm and courage.

In the chapel choir, I discovered a safe space where my limited knowledge of music did not define my worth but rather served as an opportunity for growth and learning. The moments of shared devotion and love for God through music were incredibly powerful. As we sang hymns and joined our voices in harmony, the chapel became a sacred space where I experienced a deep connection to something greater than myself. The power of music intertwined with prayer and readings from the Bible created a profound sense of spirituality, evoking a range of emotions, and providing a channel for expressing reverence and gratitude to God.

Participating in morning and evening prayer sessions within the LSM community cultivated a unique sense of togetherness and shared devotion. Daily, individuals from diverse backgrounds and musical abilities united in a collective expression of faith. These moments of communal connection remind me that spirituality is not solely an individual pursuit but a shared journey of seeking connection with God and one another. The regularity of these prayer rituals created a consistent and intentional space for reflection, centering, and connecting with the divine. In the morning’s boosting of energy and the evening’s reflective serenity, I found solace, guidance, and grounding amidst the vibrant energy of LSM.

Morning and evening prayer became spaces for introspection, enabling me to quiet my mind, reflect on my experiences, and explore the depths of my spirituality. The contemplative silence, guided readings, and hymns allowed for moments of profound self-reflection and personal growth. These sacred pauses amidst the bustling program enabled me to delve deeper into the questions and yearnings that reside within my heart.

As my time at LSM ends, I carry the transformative experiences and lessons learned in the chapel choir and through morning and evening prayer. This journey has taught me the transformative potential of music and prayer in nurturing spirituality, the power of community and shared devotion, also the beauty of embracing vulnerability. The chapel choir and prayer sessions have become integral parts of my personal and spiritual growth, encouraging me to continue exploring the depths of my faith and embracing the transformative power of music and prayer in all aspects of my life.

– Erica Castillo, Lutheran Summer Music

Embracing Identity and Finding Self at CRS

As I come to the conclusion of my time as a CAPS Fellow with Community Renewal Society, I find myself reflecting on how I have grown and developed through my experiences as a Communications and Development intern. While this summer has certainly gone by fast, it has been a delight to learn about various macro-level and policy approaches for tackling the connections between racism and poverty, participate in webinars on engaging members of a congregation and building a valued donor base, aid in launching the new CRS website, and celebrate the passage of the Pretrial Fairness Act in Illinois. Most notably, it has been incredibly educational and rewarding to witness the elimination of cash money bond, a crucial part of the prison industrial complex that furthers racial and economic disparities for individuals presumed to be innocent. Despite the time it has taken to recognize the value of eliminating this inequitable and unjust system, the hard work of the Coalition to End Money Bond, the Illinois Network for Pretrial Justice, and CRS’s own policy and organizing team remind me of the importance of celebrating the little wins in the larger pursuit for healing justice and social change.

One of the most enjoyable and exciting things this summer has been the writing and publishing of a three-part series featured on CRS’s blog. In particular, I had the opportunity to share my experience as a facilitator for the 2023 Kansha Project through the Japanese American Citizen’s League (JACL) of Chicago. The Kansha Project is a program that was established in 2011 with the aim of connecting self-identified Japanese Americans aged between 18 and 25 from the Midwest to their identity, history, and community. Participants are given the opportunity to partake in an immersive educational trip to Los Angeles’ historic Little Tokyo neighborhood and Manzanar National Historic Site, where they engage in an in-depth examination of the WWII confinement site experience. Through this writing opportunity, I was able to reflect on the striking similarities between the modern-day movement for reparations towards descendants of slavery compared to the redress movement for survivors of the World War II Japanese American Concentration Camps. If interested, you can read all three parts of my blog article series here, on the new Community Renewal Society website!

In addition to writing about my time as a facilitator for the Kansha Project, I have had the joy of speaking on the sentiments of legacy, gratitude, and remembrance. In particular, it was incredibly moving to reflect on the experiences of my ancestors and compare them to the modern-day struggle against anti-Asian sentiment, unjust policing practices, and the need for economic restitution for other marginalized communities. Through this internship, I feel that I am now able to see myself as an advocate for social justice through my enhanced understanding of historical context and the effect it has on shaping public policy. Moving forward, I hope to bring with me the focus of building a Beloved Community where all of God’s children can flourish in my developing and evolving career as a social worker.

– Katie Hill, Community Renewal Society

Nurturing Your Passion Through Learning and Growth

Through the Chicago Reporter, I had the chance to pursue my passion project on gun violence. Last week, I had a meaningful interview with Kweisi, who tragically lost his brother to gun violence years ago. Kweisi, a poet and advocate, strongly believes in healing through his poetry and the concept of forgiveness. He believes the only way to heal is to grow and forgive. When he shared his story with me, I was struck by the profound strength he possesses to navigate a world filled with cruelty, his determination to prevent similar situations and aid others in healing from their traumas is truly inspiring. My current aspiration is to bring Kweisi’s story to the forefront and shine a spotlight on the significant issue that the Chicago community and the entire country is grappling with. The issue is the absence of adequate checks and balances for gun control and the mishandling of trauma. Through sharing Kweisi’s experiences, I aim to raise awareness about the pressing need for comprehensive gun control measures and more robust mental health support systems. The story serves as a reminder of the devastating consequences of lax regulations and insufficient attention to mental health challenges. Through this project, I hope to ignite meaningful conversations and prompt action among policymakers, communities, and individuals mainly in the Chicago community. In the pursuit of a safer and healthier society, sharing these narratives is a crucial step in fostering empathy, understanding, and collective responsibility toward building a better future for everyone.

Listening to Kweisi’s story drove me to research additional similar experiences and to compare how each person dealt with their own struggles. For me, the most rewarding aspect of my work is engaging with diverse perspectives and listening to the profound and traumatic stories people share. This engagement enables me to provide comfort, respect, and genuine compassion, while also conveying their stories to the world, hoping to make a meaningful impact.

This fellowship experience has helped me practice my interviewing skills and allowed me to see that there is always room for further improvement, regardless of my proficiency in the English language. I have learned that language proficiency is an ongoing journey, and there is always room for growth. Another crucial lesson I discovered is that no matter where my future career path is headed, I must work twice as hard, push myself, and always expect challenges along the way because I am still learning. It is important to remember that the key is to remain diligent and committed to constant learning. As I move forward, I embrace the idea that continuous improvement is essential not only for professional development but also for personal growth. It is a mindset that encourages me to embrace new challenges and seek out opportunities that stretch my abilities. Moreover, I have come to realize the significance of acknowledging that I am still on a learning journey. Embracing this mindset allows me to approach every situation with a willingness to learn from others, no matter their background or expertise. The Chicago Reporter continues to expand my mind even though there is not much time left as I am stepping through the final last weeks’ I hope to maintain my work and use my passion through this project to bring something important that can influence others and assist this organization with the inspirational stories it delivers. This fellowship has been a transformative experience that has highlighted the importance of continuous improvement, hard work, and resilience for me.

– Nour Alhajjeh, The Chicago Reporter

Exploring New Horizons: My Journey at Lutheran Summer Music

While Lutheran Summer Music, or LSM, has been around for 40 years, this was my first year. As a social work major with an art minor and no prior experience in music, joining the LSM community was intimidating. Luckily, with an art concentration in my background, I know that art comes in many different forms, and all forms of art are enjoyable for me. Although coming into LSM, I knew little about anything musical, nor had I ever listened to ‘nonpopular instrumentals’. So I was a bit out of my comfort zone, although the mindset I had due to my artistic background helped me navigate the unfamiliar territory of music at LSM because it was a completely new world to me. Luckily, the LMS community is very welcoming, which made learning about musical culture easier. As a social work major, my major instructs me to understand and appreciate different cultures; often, this means our norms, values, races, etc. Working with LSM helped me immerse myself in a new culture without feeling pressured to know everything about it; I didn’t feel the guilt of not knowing information about music like I would with the different cultures that we speak about in my major. I feel that this has been an important part of my journey here at LSM. To learn about culture, I have been able to learn how to ask questions about it, how to be respectful, and even how to enjoy it. LSM has not only allowed me to learn about their culture, but they have allowed me to join it too. As I now sing in the chapel choir! Although I do not know how to do things such as read music or necessarily sound good (although I am learning!), they have fostered an environment that is nourishing and encouraging enough for me to want to participate, even with such talented musicians around me.

The CAPS Program through Valparaiso University allows its fellows to find internships that enable us to find our sense of calling and purpose in the wider world. Recently, within the last year or so, I have felt a calling, unlike anything I have felt before. I have had this inner yearning to discover something bigger than myself, more prominent than academics, more significant than a career. As I get older, I ask questions that cannot necessarily be answered through books or scholars, but questions that I feel can only be explored through a spiritual perspective. Although, as I get older, I have also realized how challenging it is to learn about religion and spirituality without committing to a church or denomination. This is why I decided to do my fellowship at Lutheran Summer Music. I saw this as an invaluable opportunity to learn about religion and spirituality without fully embracing a specific religious institution. I felt LSM could introduce me to some spiritual aspects of faith that I have been craving in an accessible and understandable way, as the program is created for incoming high schoolers to college students.

Through the morning and evening prayer, Sunday worship, and chapel choir, I have delved deeper into immersing myself in honoring God by exposing myself to different religious practices and perspectives. Over this past month, I have immersed myself in this. It is essential to recognize that spirituality is intensely personal for every individual. The journey I have been taking on at Lutheran Summer Music may resonate with me more than others, but it has undeniably played a role at the beginning of my journey to finding my own beliefs to find my own spiritual path that aligns with my values and convictions.