September 2020 – Written by small group participant, Susan Hagood, Decatur, Georgia.

In Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 it says, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” There was no time in my history that I found this Bible verse to ring truer than during this time of the COVID 19 pandemic. You might think that COVID could have taken my joys of life from me, but rather, the opposite happened, despite facing the virus at full-fledged capacity. Instead, I experienced God at work in my life. 

Going back some years ago, I had a yearning to begin a new habit, one that could enhance my health. My goal was to increase my overall physical activity. I always had a reason as to why I put exercising on hold. My excuses ranged from “I don’t have enough time” to “I am too tired to think about exercising, much less doing anything about it” to “the weather is uncooperative.” So, the story became a familiar one for me in not overcoming my perceived obstacles. 

When I retired in November of 2019, my hopes were bolstered that I would finally be able to make lifestyle changes for which I had been waiting such a long time. But, by March 2020, to my total dismay, I had not made one measly lifestyle change! What would ever be different? 

It was at this precise time that I received an email from Karen Webster, who I had known through contacts from Columbia Theological Seminary, asking if I would be interested in taking an online course called Health and Wholeness that she had developed to improve the health of busy seminarians. I knew of Karen’s non-profit organization, Healthy Seminarians-Healthy Church, which she and her husband had established. Initially, I debated whether this course would be worth my time. After all, I just retired from being a clinician in the medical field and had received education several times over on “mindfulness.” After thinking about the possible benefit this course might provide, I decided, “why not” – after all, it would be good to be part of a group during a time in quarantine. 

My first encounter with Karen’s course was a surprise for me; it was not a totally didactic course as I had expected. It was a course that included a significant amount of discussion and introspection. I soon realized that all of us taking this course were frustrated about making permanent lifestyle changes. As we shared our stories, I felt a fellowship growing among us. 

Karen presented us assignments between sessions. The questions posed in our assignments were broad in nature, allowing us to move in our own direction. The Bible verses offered, the readings and references noted, the prayers shared, the discussions we had, and the freedom to laugh began to take hold by seemingly releasing me from some of my old thoughts. Might it be that a change in me could be happening? 

It was an early evening with clear weather as I looked outside. I asked our dog, “Would you like to go on a walk?” As I think back, I do not remember any response one way or another from her. When I put on her leash and headed to the front door, she became excited. What fun, I thought, to have a partner for walks! 

It has been about four months since the beginning of Karen’s course, and I can say without reservation that I HAVE developed a new habit, one that I had been hoping to cultivate for an exceedingly long time. Nearly every day, my dog and I set out for a walk around the neighborhood. With each walk, I expand my boundaries, increasing the benefit to my health. Now, when I say the word “walk,” my dog knows the meaning. 

So, as I finish writing my testimony in tribute to this course, I listen to the YouTube video of Turn, Turn, Turn by the Byrds. From now on, when I hear these lyrics taken from Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, it will give me pause to remember this special time in my life.

By Lucas Mburu, Kenya, HSHC Summer Intern 2020

Generally, when people come together to formally create a community, commitment is one of the principle factors for achieving an objective that involves a group people. Commitment helps members remain focused on an organization’s purpose amidst the fluctuations of individual interests and environments. Commitment is highly associated with healthy family relationships, company/institution/organization’s high productivity, and the political stability of a nation.

Nevertheless, getting people to commit has been a challenge for many organizations. Scholars such as John Meyer, Natalie Allen, Jeffrey M. Adams, and Warren H. Jones share several reasons why people shy away from commitment, some of which include:

• Traumas experienced from past commitments (e.g., childhood abuse, memories of loss as a result of being swindled of hard-earned investment, and failure can all leave prints of fear on people which make them shy away from committing themselves to any corporate project)

• Fear of lifestyle change (e.g., in marriage commitment, a partner’s preferences on time and other resources shift from the individual to a couple’s agreement)

• Fear of responsibilities (e.g., in a community project, every individual will have assignments and duties to carry, one will be held accountable in line with duties and power bestowed upon them where there a corporate objective that calls for working with others)

These authors go on to advise organizations to cultivate commitment by addressing fears and deficiencies that people they interact with portray.

This summer, I encountered a scenario that I believe demonstrates another aspect of why people shy away from commitment. As an international student, I had planned to travel back to my home country and be with my family for the 3-month break. Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic interrupted all my plans. As I was figuring out how to spend my long summer break, I encountered other students who were in the same dilemma of having a lot of time with very few planned commitments.

This situation brought to my mind the unfortunate reality for many young adults in Kenya, who have a lot of time without planned commitments due to the unemployment challenges in the country that have negatively affected many young adults. When I coupled this thought with my passion for human flourishing, specifically for the unemployed young adults, I decided to reach out to my fellow students who had expressed feeling the same struggle as I had been feeling. I suggested a project that focused on creating some healthy living practices to help bring about greater flourishing in our own lives and that we could ultimately share with our communities back home and beyond. I was optimistic as it appeared that my idea for this small group attracted almost 100% commitment judging from the interest and promises I got from the students I contacted via email. However, this translated into 0% commitment at our first meeting… no one showed up. I sent out a follow-up email twice outlining the anticipated objectives, activities, and time commitment (2 hours weekly), which ended up with only one person out of ten agreeing to commit to this group. As a result, I terminated the project, took some time to reflect on the experience, and came up with another project I could do as part of my internship with HSHC.

Just shortly after experiencing disappointment with the small group project due to people being unwilling to commit, the US Department of Homeland Security released ICE regulations that stated the F1-Visa status of international students who planned to take virtual classes in the fall 2020 semester would be revoked. It questioned whether these students should be allowed to stay in the United States if they were not taking classes in person (even if they had no choice but to take the classes online) and threatened the possibility of them being sent home if their schools did not comply with the new regulations. The ICE regulations were threatening to the health and safety of me and my fellow international students and created a lot of anxiety, uncertainty and frustration. Despite my very recent experience of not being able to get students to commit to my small group project, I suggested to them that we come together and seek our “survival/flourishing” in the reality of the ICE regulations. I was surprised because all of the students I asked committed themselves to the idea; even though the notice was abrupt and the agenda was unclear. When I compare this later commitment with the former, especially considering that in both instances I asked many of those same students who had turned down my project on flourishing, I came to discover that commitment could also be influenced by how people interpret the information and data they encounter.

In recent protests, some have stated, “We (people) are not mere statistics.” The former secretary-general of the United Nations (UN), Ban Ki-moon, in his opening remarks at the UN conference in New York, said, “We all understand that people can never be reduced to mere numbers.” (UN, Press release, April 11, 2016). Inferring that the UN conference represents policymakers of nations in the world, who often deal with data and statistics, I see Ki-moon’s statement as affirming the idea that humans may be vulnerable to the interpretation of statistics as “mere numbers” rather than seeing the reality that data represents real people and the occurrences that affect them. Health risks, disease, disasters, and human struggles are all often communicated through numbers instead of ways that humanize their effects, through statistics instead of stories.

Analyzing my experiences related to the commitment of seminarians involved in the flourishing project and international students’ flourishing in the reality of ICE regulations, I see a binary of non-commitment and commitment. What causes contrasting results? I presume commitment could be influenced by a human’s relationship to the data they are processing as well as whether or not a person’s wellbeing/flourishing is affected by that data; their wellbeing is threatened and so they respond, which then changes the statistics from “mere data” into something embodied by real people and the real occurrences that affect them. These people then demonstrate total commitment to courses that seem to safeguard their wellbeing and survival, and vice-versa, showing that people are often most often reactive instead of proactive. Commitment is at the foundation of social life, often where well-being, health, wholeness, and flourishing meet. Moreover, people commit themselves when data directly affects them. It therefore seems that to earn the commitment of seminarians to a course of wellbeing demands addressing the challenge of seeing data as “mere numbers” and instead connecting it to the well-being of those being asked to commit. In Luke 10:25-37, the parable of the Good Samaritan, one sees Jesus contend with the human tendency to treat people and real occurrences that affect people as mere statistics. In verse 26, it seems that Jesus points to the problem of how people are interpreting the data (in this case, Law): “What is written? How do you read?” Moreover, in verses 29-37, Jesus unmasks how interpreting statistics (here, the neighbor – a man beaten by robbers and left half dead) as a “mere number”, as opposed to a flesh and blood person, influences how a person commits themselves. Jesus didn’t give the identity of the man beaten by robbers, probably to let the lawyer interpret that he could likely fall into the hands of robbers just as easily as the man. It seems, then, that sharing stories of how people are vulnerable to threats against their wellbeing could help people see themselves represented in the statistics. I suspect that people’s connection to the data is a key factor in how people commit themselves to human well-being and flourishing.

Work cited:
 Adams, Jeffrey M. and Waren H. Jones, Eds. Handbook of Interpersonal Commitment and Relationship Stability. New York: Springer, 1999.

Meyer, John and Natalie Allen. Commitment in the workplace: Theory, Research and Application. Thousands Oaks, California: Sage Publications, 1997.

United Nations. Press Release: Secretary General, SG/SM/17661-POP/1047, 11 APRIL 2016. https://www.un.org/press/en/2016/sgsm17661.doc.htm Accessed on 08/31/2020

September 2020 – As with many of you, this past summer continued, for me, to be nothing at all like what I had expected or envisioned at the beginning of 2020… trips and plans were canceled and interactions with others were restricted to online gatherings. While I am thankful for the virtual option, it does not, and nor should it, compare with enjoying in-person community with others! 

One of my biggest disappointments involved the 124th annual Boston Marathon, which I was supposed to have run on April 14, 2020. I found out that I had qualified for the race in September 2019 (by only 13 seconds!) and started to train in earnest at the beginning of January 2020. By mid-March, I was well on track to hit the personal goals I had set for myself. At that point, the reality of COVID caused the world to come to a screeching halt, and all of my “hard work” quickly came to an end. 

Yes, the Boston Marathon was quickly rescheduled for September 14th , meaning that, in theory, I would restart my training at the beginning of June. However, by mid-spring, I knew in my heart that this was not going to happen. I was not going to be able to run in one of the world’s premier races, and who knew if I would ever be able to qualify again? Yes, I was aware that not being able to participate in the Boston Marathon was quite minor in comparison to the number of people who were dying (and would die), as well as the devastating impact COVID was having, and would continue to have, on the world (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, financially, and more). Thus, when the September 14th inperson race date was officially cancelled at the end of May 2020 and replaced by a “virtual” race, I thought I was fairly at peace with what had happened. “Really, it is no big deal; it’s just a race,” I told myself and others. 

And yet, the moment the registration for the “virtual” race became an option, I quickly signed up because, truth be told, I discovered that my pride was at stake! If I ran the 26.2 miles (anywhere I wanted) between September 5-14, 2020, I would complete something to which I had committed. Plus, I would receive the t-shirt and racing bib I would have received if I had completed the “real” race back in April. Yes, it is amazing what one will do for a tshirt. What is even more amazing is the lesson I learned from God in the process! 

Now, one might think that training for a “virtual” race would be easier than training for a “real” in-person race, because the pressure of racing against others would no longer be a factor. I just needed to complete the race. However, what I discovered several weeks into training for the virtual race is that, when I thought that I didn’t have the accountability to anybody or anything, not only did my training suffer, but this attitude generally impacted other aspects of my life. For example, cutting corners by running fewer miles, getting less sleep, or not stretching as much was mirrored in putting off calling a friend, not cleaning the house as thoroughly, or neglecting to weed the garden. I found that the sense of hopelessness and anger COVID had instilled in my training was like a fog, seeping into every other aspect of my life. 

About a month ago, on the day I set out to do my longest training run for the race, I left the house mad… mad because the weather was miserably hot and humid (after all, it was August in Georgia!), mad when I ran by others because they had no idea how far I had to run or why I was putting myself through all of this, mad at myself for being mad…until I passed by another runner who simply smiled and said, “You’ve got this!” 

At that very moment, my attitude noticeably changed, from one of anger and frustration to a sense of calming peace. In fact, I found God’s small, quiet voice saying to me, “Karen, you know that what you do matters to you, to others, and to me. Even when you think no one is watching, you know that I am with you.” That led me to think about what kind of steward I was being, with my body, soul, time, attitude, money, and more, during this continued period of disruption, a time when we yearn for just an inkling of normalcy in our lives. By the time I got back from my 20-mile run, I was physically exhausted, but emotionally and spiritually renewed. September starts the beginning of the new school year (in whatever form that is taking in your area!). Even though I have been out of school for a while, I find this season still brings with it a sense of expectation and beginning, and invites me to take stock and reflect. 

In that spirit, I want to challenge us all to consider: 

• What are some things we are currently doing “in secret” that are not glorifying to God, neighbor, or self? 

• What are some ways that we can love God more fully, neighbor more fully, and self more fully – not only bringing honor and glory to God and without drawing attention to ourselves, but also instilling greater joy and peace in our own lives? 

As my fellow runner told me on that hot August day, “You’ve got this!” Indeed, especially in the face of ongoing challenges, let’s take these words to heart. You’ve got this. I’ve got this. By God’s grace, together, we’ve all got this. 

Peace,
Karen Webster

“I the Lord test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings.”

Jeremiah 17:10