Courage to Return an Unfamiliar Smile—Ruth Moore
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by Ruth Moore
Welcome, one and all, to the first in a series of blogs looking back at Hutchmoot 2024. In the coming weeks, we’ll be sharing conversations with some of our speakers as they reflect on what happened when we gathered around story, music, and art in Franklin, Tennessee, in October.
Maybe you were there too and this will help you to keep gleaning goodness from your time. Maybe you wish you had been there; we hope these reflections in themselves can nourish you and invite you into community. Maybe you have delved this deep into the Rabbit Room without discovering what a “Hutchmoot” is—this will illuminate!
Our first conversation is with Heidi Johnston, who wrote “A Liturgy for Hutchmoot.” Heidi is an author and speaker from Northern Ireland and a member of the Hutchmoot UK team. Excerpts of her liturgy intermingle with this interview.
“Give us courage to return an unfamiliar smile, welcoming conversations that may engage us for a moment or, perhaps, enrich us for years to come . . .”
Ruth Moore: You read this beautiful liturgy on stage at the start of Hutchmoot, welcoming all comers, especially those who were feeling daunted as I was. What has been your experience of returning an “unfamiliar smile” at Hutchmoot over the years?
Heidi Johnston: As a natural introvert, I am continually surprised by the frequency of these moments at Hutchmoot and how often they turn into lasting friendships. One of my most vivid memories of my first Hutchmoot in 2015 is the sheer terror I felt on that first Thursday afternoon, standing in the back room in Church of the Redeemer and wondering why I had ever thought this might be a good idea. I had been a fan of the Rabbit Room blog for several years, and there were a few writers I was particularly keen to meet. One of those was Lanier Ivester. Even as I scanned the room for a potential exit, I remember spotting Lanier in the doorway. She returned my hesitant smile with so much warmth that I found the courage to go over and tell her how much I admired her writing. What I thought would be a five-minute conversation has now become over a decade of friendship that has enriched my own writing in ways I never expected and given me a deeper appreciation of the beauty of home. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to shamelessly plug her new book, Glad and Golden Hours, but somehow it manages to be both the most festively heartwarming and the richest, most deeply moving thing I’ve read in a long time.
“Fill our moments of creativity and discovery, our conversations, our laughter, and our thoughts of you.”
RM: Can you tell us about a moment of creativity or discovery that has stayed with you from a past Hutchmoot?
HJ: One moment that stands out in my memory is a session Jennifer Trafton and Ben Shive co-led in 2018. I went to the session because Jennifer was talking about poetry. When she was finished, Ben began to speak, animatedly and with incredible expertise, about music production. Optimistically, I’d say I understood about 20 percent of what he shared. I don’t remember God being mentioned explicitly, but the whole thing felt like pure worship. One of the things I love most about Hutchmoot, whether it’s in a session, in conversation, or even when I’m leading from the front, are those moments when the curtain is pulled back a little and I glimpse a facet of God’s creativity and character playing out in the life and art of another person in a way I’ve never fully seen before, and perhaps don’t even completely understand.
“Breathe your life into these songs and stories, that they may once again steal past the watchful dragons, catching us wide-eyed with re-awakened wonder . . .”
RM: What a beautiful reminder that God can reawaken wonder in us no matter our circumstances, even in songs and stories that we have known for many years. Which writers and musicians do you draw on when the days are dark and the dragons watchful?
HJ: I think everyone goes through seasons where different songs and stories resonate in different ways but there are a few that I go back to again and again, and I make no apology for the fact that they are the obvious choices. Growing up a few miles from Little Lea, the childhood home of C. S. Lewis, I was steeped in the world of Narnia before I knew what Narnia was. Even now, the stories have a way of re-enchanting my heart on even its most cynical days. I can’t read the end of The Last Battle without being completely undone by hope.
Musically, Andrew Peterson’s songs gently and unfailingly point me back to the reality of the gospel in the same way that Doug McKelvey so often does with his liturgies. I also love the podcasts from the BibleProject and the Equip Project in Belfast—both of which involve a couple of friends getting really excited about the beauty and truth of the Bible. Generally, that’s what I need more than anything.
“. . . things of such apparent substance that our own offerings seem only to be foolishness . . .”
RM: I love that you call out in us this secret fear of foolishness, which so easily tightens its chains around our creativity. One of the beauties of the Rabbit Room is that everyone has a place at the table—from struggling professional artists to hungry amateurs to joyous art fans. What would you say to someone who is questioning whether to keep pursuing their love for art?
HJ: I don’t have the expertise or experience to speak into a situation where art is your full-time job and source of income, but, as an amateur, for whom writing doesn’t usually top my daily priority list, I’d say motivation is key. Most of what I write has a very limited audience and does not go beyond my local community. If I write for recognition, I’ll be discouraged and disappointed very quickly. I have tried, with varied success, to see writing as an act of worship. If God chooses to use it to bless or encourage someone else, I’m thrilled, but that’s in his hands. On the other hand, if no one reads it, there is still delight and value in honing and using the gifts God has put inside me and turning them back to him. I think if you’re the kind of person who loves art and creativity in any form, you’ll be a less full version of yourself without it.
“May any feeling of belonging . . . serve not to unsettle us . . . but rather to embrace the spaces you have given us with a renewed sense of purpose. Deepen our conviction that you have called us to your Kingdom for such a time as this.”
RM: This part of your liturgy really struck me. It can be painful to walk away from a time rich in story and community—or not to have the opportunity to be there in the first place. What practical tips do you have to help us “embrace the spaces” we have been gifted in everyday life?
HJ: One of my favorite passages of Scripture is in Ephesians 4, where Paul is explaining that each of our gifts are given for the building up of the church to unity and maturity, so that together we can stand firm and grow in Christ. For that to happen, we each need to bring the best of what God has given us. Occasions like Hutchmoot are such a gift when it comes to recognizing who we are, enjoying moments of shared delight and finding people whose presence out there in the world is a reminder that we are not the lone rangers we often believe we are. They are not, however, sustainable as a way of living everyday life. To be part of the Body of Christ is to embrace our diversity and use it to strengthen one another. The local church needs artists as much as it needs doctors and lawyers and preachers and carpenters. One good thing about technology is that it is possible to find and keep in touch with people who share our passions. I have a few friends I have met through the Rabbit Room whom I text or FaceTime regularly. For me, that connection and sense of understanding frees me from the need to be fully understood by everyone with whom I live in physical community, giving me the courage to bring the best of me as I invest fully in my local church.
Ruth Moore is a writer from Oxford, England, and a member of the Hutchmoot UK team.
Heidi Johnston is the author of Choosing Love in a Broken World and Life in the Big Story and a member of the Hutchmoot UK team. She lives in Newtownards, Northern Ireland, with her husband, Glenn, and their two teenage daughters, Ellie and Lara.
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