Words of Good Hope: A Conversation with Nadia Bolz-Weber, Part I
On grace, ubiquitous faith, boundaries, God as source, doubt as a form of faith, manifestation as arrogance, and the stories we tell ourselves. Plus: A Book Giveaway!
Intimate conversations with our greatest heart-centered minds.
is a force. She’s a force of faith, humor, love, compassion, beauty, glorious oration, gorgeous tattoos and belt buckles, insight, vulnerability, adventure, and hard-won wisdom. She’s also a force for the marginalized, outcasts, and “other weirdos”; those who live in the corners. As you might imagine, this combination makes for a potent and enthralling Lutheran pastor, one who has lived through many of the same struggles we’re living through—and has felt the grace of God guiding her. And she wants us to feel our versions of that, too.Nadia is the founder of House for All Sinners and Saints in Denver. As a child, she had Graves disease that impacted her understanding of suffering and hope. In her teens, she hit drugs and alcohol too hard. By her early twenties, she was in recovery and is still actively involved with Alcoholics Anonymous. For a stretch, she was a stand-up comedian. But the pull of Christian teachings was too strong and she returned to the church (she was raised in the highly conservative Church of Christ) with some of the most compelling and heartfelt readings of the Bible I’ve ever heard. Jesus loved all of us—including the outsiders—and Nadia wants to make sure we all feel this.
Nadia has written three truly gorgeous books where she lays herself about as bare as one can in the hopes of helping others: Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint, Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People, and Shameless: A Case for Not Feeling Bad About Feeling Good (About Sex).
Recently, Nadia was married to her great love after which they walked the Camino de Santiago. We didn’t have time to discuss this, although the Camino storks do make an appearance, but Nadia has written about it on her chocked-full-of-wisdom Substack,
. I encourage you to subscribe!Nadia and I spoke for over two hours and it was impossible to whittle all that insight into a twenty minute read—so I’ve split the interview into two. You’re reading Part I. Part II will run tomorrow. I hope you enjoy and share them! Next Thursday, I’ll be sharing a wildly helpful deep dive into writing advice from Nadia. I learned a lot. You don’t want to miss it!
⭐️ Nadia is generously gifting three readers an autographed copy of Accidental Saints! If you’d like to be one of the recipients, please add “Saint” after your comment. The winners will be chosen at random on Monday, July 29nd and notified by Substack Direct Chat. Gah! This is exciting!! I may enter my name in the giveaway (not really, but it would be lovely to have a signed copy!)! Shipping is limited to the United States. ⭐️
Here’s Nadia reading one of my favorite passages. It gives me chills! How about you?
You know how I love to hear your thoughts. Please share in the comments below! ❤️
So many people look to you for insight and advice. How do you experience that?
I would never describe myself as someone a lot of people look to for advice. All I'm ever doing is being as honest as I can about my own struggles and then scratching and crawling to find something to say to myself.
I will say that the older I've gotten, and the longer my career has lasted, the more I'm aware of what's mine to say, and what's not mine to say. I do have an understanding that people look to me for a certain thing because I have a certain kind of voice, and that I'm not going to probably spout off about stuff that's outside my lane.
I'm not a lifestyle influencer, for instance. I'm not going to be in a paid partnership with “blah” because I'm wearing their clothes. It's not that I’m more evolved than the public figures who do that. It’s that there are a lot of people who are willing to read what I write because I have just a fucking shred of integrity. I don’t even have that much. But I have a shred. And that's so unusual these days.
I feel like it is overwhelmingly an act of God's grace that I get to have the career I do, and I don't want—out of my less evolved self—to do damage to a thing I've been handed, which is such a gift.
People trust you with their suffering, their sorrow, their fears. Is that ever a lot to carry?