When I lived in Chicago, I was connected to a community that included folks who were part of an improvisational dance collective. They led contact improv dance sessions and occasionally held performances in an old church that had been minimally maintained over years of closure, but was well suited as run-down performance space. I loved attending the performances and was always surprised and often delighted by the creativity and joy that were woven into the performances.

My favorite of all time was when three women came onto the stage. Two dancers faced away from each other, stage left and stage right. The third woman stood in the center looking at them and suggested various kinds of movements for them to make. The result was that there were two completely different dances happening on either side of the stage as the performers interpreted and embodied the suggestions. The laughter among the audience was abundant. Something seemingly simple like, “circle your arms” can yield significantly different interpretations.

I continue to learn about how that works in my life, too. When Beau and I met to talk through the child dedication that happened this past Sunday, we went over the script, talked through some ideas and details and left the mid-week meeting both confident that we’d understood how things were going to work.

And then there was the ceremony in the service. The families and their 11 children all gathered up front. I read from my script and realized that Beau wasn’t up there with me to offer the blessings to each of the kids. He was taking pictures so that there was a memory of the day and each of the families.

OK. I could adjust to that. Balancing my script in one hand I began, and offered a 4-part blessing to each child, waving feathers for air and fire, daubing some dirt (representing earth) and water on each of their hands. I said the blessings eleven times, enough so that the congregation (or at least the choir) started saying each one with me. On and on it went, and if people were antsy about it, I couldn’t tell.  The love in the room was big enough to keep us all engaged.

We finished that segment and carried on, and while the service was long – the Trans Day of Remembrance recognition and a long closing hymn added extra time, too – no one seemed to mind.

In a quiet moment after most folks had left on Sunday, Beau and I checked in. “I had planned for you to do the blessings in family groups, not each of them individually…” he noted. “Huh.” I replied. “That never crossed my mind. Of course each child gets their own blessing.” We laughed.

I appreciate that as a congregation we come together with some playfulness and appreciation of the imperfections of each other. I appreciate that we laugh a lot on Sundays, sometimes in ways I plan and sometimes when things go in unexpected ways.

When I first started here, I mentioned that we’d be trying out some new things. In January, we’ll be adding a recognition of our community and our support of it by including some unison words at the time of the offering. We’ll try on three different ways to recognize our ongoing support and care for the congregation over the first three months of 2024, and then get some feedback from all y’all on how we integrate that recognition into our worship.

And as we come into this holiday season, I wish us all a time of quiet reflection and peacefulness, some moments of crystalline joy, and the right amount of togetherness and solitude. May it be so for all y’all.