This post is one of the monthly posts blog posts written by the deans of the conferences of the Minneapolis Area Synod.

By Rev. Chris Beckman
Corporate Director for Spiritual Care for the Ebenezer Society
Dean of Chaplains and Specialized Ministers

I’m a mender. Not a whole cloth seamstress or fine tailor, but a basic mender. I repair things when they tear. A button falls off. A seam opens. A shoe starts to come apart at the sole. My leather hockey glove develops a hole in the palm. Needle and thread. Seam ripper and thimble. Upholstery cording, a leather awl, and even a pair of pliers. Simple. Basic. Functional. Nothing terribly fancy, elegant, or noteworthy.

I often bring something to mend during meetings. I, like you, sit in a lot of long meetings. And even though we are addressing the most Gospel of topics – racial justice, food distribution in a world with barns overflowing, the safety of children – my mind tends to wander. So, I mend. It might seem like I am not paying attention or even being disruptive to the proceedings, but I can assure you that my mending actually helps me to maintain a focus and find my center. Having my hands engaged in simple and basic stitches somehow enables me to follow along closely and participate in a deeply engaged way.

I first noticed this when I spent a year in Stockholm, studying among the Swedish Covenanters. Many of my classmates, women and men, would knit during class. I was offended and thought them disrespectful to the professor. They assured me that having hand work to do during class helped them to stay focused. How right they were. Articles abound about the benefits of knitting, crocheting, stitching, or any other simple and rhythmic motion done with our hands. It can allow our minds to settle and concentrate and find a center. Studies in psychology suggest the profound benefits of stress reduction and increases in wellness.

Pastor Chris can be seen sewing during a training (far right side of the picture)

It’s tempting to make connections to our theological and spiritual lives. Using our hands with prayer beads or a Rosary. The ancient tradition of centering prayer. The tactile beauty of holding candles and putting on vestments. It’s possible that Luther remembered his Baptism through the daily activity of washing his face. Brother Lawrence found his remembrance of Baptism as a washer of dishes and Theresa of Avila among the pots and pans. What is it that you do daily with your hands that could help you to find your center?

It seems easy to make a case for hand work to be a spiritual discipline. In Acts 9, we learn that Dorcas, the beloved disciple in Joppa famous for her good works, sewed clothes for the poor and widows. Modern Christians created the Dorcas Societies to follow in her footsteps. The Biblical narrative suggests Paul was a tent maker who would have used needle and thread to both create and repair – the exact tools I use in my mending. And if we really want to make the cosmic connection we can look to the beauty of the Psalmist: “For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139:13) Lest I get too grand in my quest for spiritual centering, I remind myself that what I most appreciate about the act of mending – is that I am getting something practical done.

When I realized that this blog was to come out immediately following the shooting in Minneapolis, I thought my topic a poor choice. What does mending have to do with this tragedy? We are praying for peace on earth, for the Kingdom of God to come near, for justice to be served – and you want to talk about mending a tear in your hockey glove?! It might be the realization that profound words now escape me. That my actions seem so small and woefully unlikely to bring about peace on earth. But at least I know a way for me to find a center in the midst of this storm – through my simple act of mending a tear.

And then my colleague offered me the poetry that would bind this together. She shared a blessing for healing from the poetry of Jan Richardson in her book, “How the Stars Get in Your Bones.”

If it breaks
our heart,
no matter,
the tenderness
that undoes us
knows also
how to mend,

like the needle
that stiches up
the willing cloth,
piercing as it
repairs.

Blessings on the journey,
Chris