Change is possible. There is evidence that supports the notion that beneficial change is not only the norm, it is the default. To the surprise of many, there is evidence of walls of despair crumbling all around us — walls of pain and aggression, hurtfulness and betrayal, selfishness, conceit, terror, and fear — and evolving into something better and more life-sustaining. How can that be with all that is at the center of our daily concerns? Two examples bear mentioning.

At the conclusion of the Korean War in 1953, a demilitarized zone, or DMZ, was established designating a two-mile wide no-man’s land stretching some 155 miles across Korea, effectively partitioning the Korean peninsula into North and South Korea. The DMZ has been an effective barrier for years, politically and geographically. Aside from thousands of landmines still buried in the zone, something unforeseen has developed over the course of ensuing decades: wildlife and supporting habitat has thrived. Over 6,000 species have been documented in the zone, of which a number are endangered. Lack of human presence has given testimony to the flourishing of a significant reserve of land, despite ourselves. Researchers continue to learn from it as this living laboratory of immense value evolves and endures.

Similarly, human involvement on the Klamath River bordering Oregon and California has taken a different turn regarding salmon migration. Four dams affecting salmon migration on the Klamath will be disassembled in the coming months, the result of studies showing that free-flowing rivers are essential to the health and well-being of salmon populations. Research indicates that recovery in several settings has shown itself to be surprisingly rapid and robust when dams are no longer part of the equation. Hindsight reveals that many accepted practices of watershed management remain detrimental. As biological equilibrium comes into play, we are reminded that change is not always what we envision it to be.

It is a complex world that is coming to us at breakneck speed. This is true as well for faith and religion. What we think we know, what appears immovable and unchanging, is undergoing similar evolutionary pains as transformation comes to our door. Most formal definitions of theology describe a rational and thinking approach to God and faith. In truth, we often set aside the rational for the irrational. That is neither complaint nor critique when it comes to religion, but rather acknowledgement that most peoples’ faith is deeply rooted, emotional and close to the heart. Would we have it any other way?

When change careens into tradition, however, it can be difficult to welcome new insight and revelation. How can we rationalize change that represents something good when every fiber of our church being is bound by tradition?

Learning to embrace and celebrate change can become a marker of our faith. Jesus spoke of embracing change more often than he did of adhering to strict tradition, although respect for it in our lives was expected. It is easy to fall back on what we prefer to know because it is a comfortable place to be. Sometimes, though, we need experiences that inform us otherwise while ruffling our potentials. It might take barbed wire and demilitarized zones, or removing decades of old dams that impede our thinking. If we pay attention, we might garner enough courage to greet change at the door.