The Spiritual Practice of Trust

By Kelsey Rice Bogdan


Last week I read an article in the Boston Phoenix about cycles of youth violence, and why they are so hard to break. In “Dead Kids”, author David S. Bernstein writes that youth who would not participate in violence under normal circumstances are drawn toward it in violent neighborhoods, out of a need to protect one’s self. The result is a dynamic “where the fear of violence ironically pushes adolescent boys to copy the same behaviors, and end up on the same paths, as those before them.”  


This article especially hit home to me because of the impact two recent local shootings, that of 14-year-old Nicholas Fomby-Davis and 27-year-old Cory Johnson, have had on my communities. Fomby-Davis was a student at Dearborn Middle School, where Trinity Church has been organizing to turn the school around. I had assisted Johnson’s aunt as a lay worship leader only a few months ago when she preached at my Presbyterian church in Brookline. What struck me about the Phoenix article, in the context of these murders, was the fundamental role fear and mistrust plays in the ongoing violence.  


Fear is in many ways fundamental to the human condition. I don’t talk about certain things with certain people because I fear rejection. Our country doesn’t have honest discussion about energy policy, immigration policy, or pretty much any policy these days, because we fear change and loss. And in some parts of our city, people kill because they fear being killed. And all of this fear affects each one of us. Slowly, bit by bit, the fear poisons us. 


If I asked you to name the antidote to fear, you might respond with “hope.” But how do we live out hope? As our Hope in Action site here at Trinity Church stands poised to launch our college coaching program next week at Pathway Technology Campus in Villa Victoria, I find myself increasingly reflecting on the spiritual practice of trust as an expression of hope. If fear is born out of a basic level of mistrust, then trust becomes the ultimate counter to fear. Where mistrust leads toward dysfunction, the choice to trust opens us up to the interdependent life God intends for humanity. 


I’ve been learning a lot about trust in my own life during the past few weeks. As I transition out of my position as a Relational Evangelist, I also prepare our Hope in Action community to carry on our work  without me. I went on a short vacation a few weeks ago. The day before my return to the office, I realized with a sense of panic that I hadn’t done any work while I was gone. I had left all the work for others to do, leaving myself with no control over the process. And yes, I was afraid that nothing had happened. 


And what did I find when I got back? Tara and Christopher had matched up our volunteers to students who needed their help in Villa Victoria. Laura had already planned out the next meeting agenda. Eric had made plans and requested volunteers for our kickoff event. The team had come together to do what needed to be done. And I heard a call to trust more fully in our community. 


My impending departure from Trinity Hope in Action has made me realize more than ever that no matter how self-sufficient I am, I need a lot of help to accomplish the justice work that needs to be done. If I try to carry this whole project myself because someone else might not do it right, or not do it at all, then my mistrust limits the scope and impact of what we’re able to do.  


As I practice trust, amazing things happen at Trinity. Last week we held two training sessions for our new coaches, which were well-attended and well-facilitated by Hope in Action volunteers. Next week, we will hold the first of two thousand coaching hours with adult learners. These sessions will increase Pathway Technology Campus’ capacity, allowing it to offer tutoring and life coaching services to adults, where they have never before been available consistently. This development is happening through the hard work of a team that trusts and supports one another to get the job done. 


Admittedly, these are baby steps—they aren’t going to end youth violence immediately. But they witness to the way we’re supposed to live in relationship to our neighbors, ultimately turning the tide. Trusting can be difficult, and we shouldn’t naïvely do so. But in a world where our need to control destroys us, where our fear of one another kills innocent people in the street, it is time to cultivate the practice of relying on one another. Not only can it teach us more about how to live with one another in peace, but it can help us more fully lean into our fundamental dependence on a loving God.