I am reading Gary V. Nelson's book entitled "Borderland Churches." This notion of "borderland churches" has captured my imagination. This image of the church has stimulated my imagination, partly because of the content of the book, but also because for most of my professional ministry, I've been thinking that the church I remember as a boy has moved from the center of community life to the edge of somewhere else. This somewhere else has not been clearly defined, but what I do know is that church today is different. This is not to say that this is a good thing or a bad thing, but rather I want to say it is different and like many of us who claim Christianity as our particular religious persuasion, I am trying to understand this strange and mysterious time for the Church of Jesus Christ.
I remember in the mid-eighties while I was attending Eden Theological Seminary, both Dr. Walter Brueggeman and Dr. Douglas Meeks talked about the church as the church in exile. Dr. Brueggeman compared the church of the eighties (and likely long before this decade) and subsequently the church of the early 21st Century to the Babylonian exile of the Hebrew people. All that was, is no longer and what is to come will not be the same. We know that the future image of the church is still unfolding and we probably won't know the new look until generations later when what we experience as religious and spiritual is a part of what we've always known.
Now, how is that for ambiguity? It is this ambiguity that intrigues me about "borderland churches." We are on the edge of something new and different. What this image of something new looks and feels like may depend upon how we choose to embrace or not to embrace this "new thing" that is happening as we "live and move and have our being." What's more is that those who claim this Christian faith are intricately entwined in this new image of the "new church," pushing us into the future even as we cling to the image of the church of yesterday.
Experiencing the borderlands is living on the edge, believing that the transformational power of the the living God will reveal, in due time, the New Jerusalem and in the meantime, those of us who are aliens to this new creation, we must use our borderland time to grow a deeper, more abiding faith that will strengthen us and carry us through this in-between time, this time where the church as we have known it, is experiencing the birth pangs of tomorrow's new life. With authority and with the power of resurrection hope, we must claim this time in history as we co-create and shape tomorrow's faith. I believe that this is our challenge and how thrilling and exciting it could be to be midwives to this new way of living and being the Church of Jesus Christ.
"Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Isaiah 43:18-19) Or from the gospel of John, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me...I will come again and will take you to myself so that where I am, there you may be also." (John 14:1, 3)
My Seminary professors may say that the church is exile. Nelson believes that we must live as borderland churches, and I believe that we are strangers, aliens to the church today and our strength in these times must come from the prophets of old who spoke about a future place where God would meet God's people and a promise that we will not be left alone as we midwife this new church that is crowning, still waiting to be embraced, but nonetheless pulling us along into a new reality where God is our center and justice is our way of life. "Behold, I am doing a new thing. Do you not perceive it?"
And so I babble on with God's Spirit before me, the church as my constant companion, and the mission to be the church in unlikely places calls me into the future, into something that I may know only in part, but one day shall fully embrace. So, I remain in the borderland waiting for God's new thing to be born. Perhaps the borderlands is just a new way or a new place to experience God's all encompassing life. As you experience the borderlands, what do you think?
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Book Review: Not Just a One Night Stand
“Not Just a One Night Stand: Ministry with the Homeless”
By John Flowers & Karen Vannoy
Discipleship Resource: Nashville, TN., 2009
In preparation for my time at Open Door Community, a ministry with the homeless, the marginalized, the incarcerated, and those released from prison, I felt it was important to read material that would reflect the kind of ministry I would anticipate at Open Door Community.
Flowers and Vannoy were two pastors serving Travis Park United Methodist Church (UMC) in San Antonio, Texas and through their leadership they transformed a silk stocking dying church into a cotton stocking growing church. This book is a reflection on how they were able to be transformed and to transform others by embracing their call to work with the homeless and the marginalized.
Flower and Vannoy stress early on that the goal of their ministry would be “mutual transformation” of the congregation, the members of Travis Park UMC, and those who participated in the Day Treatment program at Travis Park, UMC. Their authority and their permission comes from the urgency of gospel. They write, “We don’t need to wait for empowerment; we already have everything we need to build community of faith that embodies the gospel, and the world has never needed its transforming power more than it does now.” (Flowers, 2009)
Flowers and Vannoy know that the hearts of Christian people are in the right place. Flowers notes that people are compassionate and will not tolerate injustice when they understand the human story of suffering. We do good things for often the wrong reasons. The authors contend that our hearts are in the right place, but ministry among the homeless and marginalized is not something that we do a couple of times of year to relieve our middle-class guilt. No,the authors would rather work toward mutual transformation. Mutual transformation happens when we realize that we are more alike than different. Mutual transformation happens when we realize that the poor have as much to give to us as we have to give them. The authors observe that “when we are in the same space, at the same time, sharing our stories with equal air time and equal attention , mutual transformation has a chance. (Flowers, 2009)
With this notion of mutual transformation, the idea that we do not do ministry for the poor and the marginalized, but rather we do ministry with the poor the marginalized, the authors go onto share several ways in which this kind of ministry can become transformational. The authors suggest several steps that need to be taken in order for a ministry with the poor and marginalized can happen. They suggest that beginning with prayer and discernment is an important first step.
It has been said, “Morality begins at 1500 calories a day.” Clearly, this means that we cannot expect people to make sound moral decisions if they are hungry and so we need to eat. The author points out that we are also social creatures and suggest that this would be a wonderful way to make connections by eating together. By doing this we facilitate trust and build community. Eating together is a matter of survival.
Another way we can work toward mutual transformation is by paying attention. The best way to pay attention is when we can take time to listen to their stories. When we take time to listen, we don’t bring any demands, contrive expectations, or pass judgment. Instead, we enter their space and listen to their stories. Among other ways we work toward mutual transformation is by sharing power, careful discernment of “down and out” stories, and creating a safe, open, and inclusive space for worship. Each of these topics are addressed in some detail in subsequent chapters. The question that we as a church must struggle with in all facets of ministry is whether or not we ready to be the church or continue to play church.
Biblically, there are so many references to our call to reach out to the homeless, the poor, the marginalized, the incarcerated, and the forgotten. In light of this, let me end where I began with a quote that gives us the scope of our ministry. “…we need to build community of faith that embodies the gospel, and the world has never needed its transforming power more than it does now.” This is our call to mutual transformation.
By John Flowers & Karen Vannoy
Discipleship Resource: Nashville, TN., 2009
In preparation for my time at Open Door Community, a ministry with the homeless, the marginalized, the incarcerated, and those released from prison, I felt it was important to read material that would reflect the kind of ministry I would anticipate at Open Door Community.
Flowers and Vannoy were two pastors serving Travis Park United Methodist Church (UMC) in San Antonio, Texas and through their leadership they transformed a silk stocking dying church into a cotton stocking growing church. This book is a reflection on how they were able to be transformed and to transform others by embracing their call to work with the homeless and the marginalized.
Flower and Vannoy stress early on that the goal of their ministry would be “mutual transformation” of the congregation, the members of Travis Park UMC, and those who participated in the Day Treatment program at Travis Park, UMC. Their authority and their permission comes from the urgency of gospel. They write, “We don’t need to wait for empowerment; we already have everything we need to build community of faith that embodies the gospel, and the world has never needed its transforming power more than it does now.” (Flowers, 2009)
Flowers and Vannoy know that the hearts of Christian people are in the right place. Flowers notes that people are compassionate and will not tolerate injustice when they understand the human story of suffering. We do good things for often the wrong reasons. The authors contend that our hearts are in the right place, but ministry among the homeless and marginalized is not something that we do a couple of times of year to relieve our middle-class guilt. No,the authors would rather work toward mutual transformation. Mutual transformation happens when we realize that we are more alike than different. Mutual transformation happens when we realize that the poor have as much to give to us as we have to give them. The authors observe that “when we are in the same space, at the same time, sharing our stories with equal air time and equal attention , mutual transformation has a chance. (Flowers, 2009)
With this notion of mutual transformation, the idea that we do not do ministry for the poor and the marginalized, but rather we do ministry with the poor the marginalized, the authors go onto share several ways in which this kind of ministry can become transformational. The authors suggest several steps that need to be taken in order for a ministry with the poor and marginalized can happen. They suggest that beginning with prayer and discernment is an important first step.
It has been said, “Morality begins at 1500 calories a day.” Clearly, this means that we cannot expect people to make sound moral decisions if they are hungry and so we need to eat. The author points out that we are also social creatures and suggest that this would be a wonderful way to make connections by eating together. By doing this we facilitate trust and build community. Eating together is a matter of survival.
Another way we can work toward mutual transformation is by paying attention. The best way to pay attention is when we can take time to listen to their stories. When we take time to listen, we don’t bring any demands, contrive expectations, or pass judgment. Instead, we enter their space and listen to their stories. Among other ways we work toward mutual transformation is by sharing power, careful discernment of “down and out” stories, and creating a safe, open, and inclusive space for worship. Each of these topics are addressed in some detail in subsequent chapters. The question that we as a church must struggle with in all facets of ministry is whether or not we ready to be the church or continue to play church.
Biblically, there are so many references to our call to reach out to the homeless, the poor, the marginalized, the incarcerated, and the forgotten. In light of this, let me end where I began with a quote that gives us the scope of our ministry. “…we need to build community of faith that embodies the gospel, and the world has never needed its transforming power more than it does now.” This is our call to mutual transformation.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Getting Ready
Today I begin a time of sabbatical rest and renewal. Yesterday, the send off and today the beginning of what I anticipate to be holy time, holy time that welcomes the Holy Spirit in the form of stranger, a new friend, a pilgrim, a seeker, an insight, or an unexpected surprise.
As my day began, it began with the more ordinary things of life. I had some notes to write, a trip to the cleaners to drop off my robes and stoles so that even my clerical robes and stoles will be renewed and refreshed for my ultimate return to my work and vocation. There was also a final trip to the travel agent to organize and clarify the mundane things that will facilitate a meaningful experience. Such things as plane tickets, hotel accommodations, and a final check on a trip to Athens. Although ordinary and seemingly secular, these matters are essential in this time of preparation. This is breathing time, a time to empty mind and body so that I may be more receptive to the Spirit's leanings.
Along the ordinary path of Monday morning, I noticed two bags of potting soil, two empty pots, a bag of pea gravel, and several gasping plants eager to anchor themselves in something more than a plastic container, pressing against their anxious roots in search of water, nutrients and room to spread out so that the world can see their beauty. I accommodated the call to be a co-creator with God and planted my tender plants. And so it is on this first day of my sabbatical, a time to see the possibilities.
I planted the planters today and they look nice against the front of our house. The plants have not adjusted completely to this new experience, but they're ready to take root and open up to God's prevenient care, each flower, each leaf is prepared to receive drops of rain and sunshine so that they may be receptive to the God's Holy Spirit that feeds them.
I guess in one sense that's where I am, getting ready to receive holy food. Like the new plants in a planter, the conditions are in place, and soon I will be in the midst of God's holy space and waiting to receive whatever it is that God would want me to see and hear. Such is my first day of my Sabbatical, and so I babble on, but not without purpose. No, just as a way to get ready for God's new chapter in my life. Where it will lead me, I do not know, but I'm planted and ready to receive, so that I might bloom to the glory of God.
As my day began, it began with the more ordinary things of life. I had some notes to write, a trip to the cleaners to drop off my robes and stoles so that even my clerical robes and stoles will be renewed and refreshed for my ultimate return to my work and vocation. There was also a final trip to the travel agent to organize and clarify the mundane things that will facilitate a meaningful experience. Such things as plane tickets, hotel accommodations, and a final check on a trip to Athens. Although ordinary and seemingly secular, these matters are essential in this time of preparation. This is breathing time, a time to empty mind and body so that I may be more receptive to the Spirit's leanings.
Along the ordinary path of Monday morning, I noticed two bags of potting soil, two empty pots, a bag of pea gravel, and several gasping plants eager to anchor themselves in something more than a plastic container, pressing against their anxious roots in search of water, nutrients and room to spread out so that the world can see their beauty. I accommodated the call to be a co-creator with God and planted my tender plants. And so it is on this first day of my sabbatical, a time to see the possibilities.
I planted the planters today and they look nice against the front of our house. The plants have not adjusted completely to this new experience, but they're ready to take root and open up to God's prevenient care, each flower, each leaf is prepared to receive drops of rain and sunshine so that they may be receptive to the God's Holy Spirit that feeds them.
I guess in one sense that's where I am, getting ready to receive holy food. Like the new plants in a planter, the conditions are in place, and soon I will be in the midst of God's holy space and waiting to receive whatever it is that God would want me to see and hear. Such is my first day of my Sabbatical, and so I babble on, but not without purpose. No, just as a way to get ready for God's new chapter in my life. Where it will lead me, I do not know, but I'm planted and ready to receive, so that I might bloom to the glory of God.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Walking through the field of life
Recently, I worshiped at Journey Place and the presenter (Jason McCord) shared his own spiritual journey and used the metaphor of a familiar forest to talk about his journey. He challenged us to think about the metaphor that would best describe our personal understanding of our spiritual journey. Mine would be an open field or meadow.
Why would I compare my spiritual journey to an open field or meadow? When I think of an open field, I think of four things, predictability, beauty, warmth, and diversity and such reflects my spiritual journey. Let me explain.
Growing up in the home of a pastor, my year and my week was predictable. So much of my life and the life of my family revolved around the predictable calendar of the church. Such is why I have chosen a field to define my spiritual journey. Human experience knows what a field looks like. It is usually overgrown with tall grass, low-lying shrubs (perhaps raspberry or blue berry bushes) , and a number of wildflowers are seen. In addition, one can see across the field perhaps to another field, a stream, or the edge of a woods and this is what makes a field predictable. In almost any field, I can see to the other side and I will not get lost. My spiritual life is shaped liked that. I can stand at the beginning of the church year and find my way through the seasons and by participating in its life, if find comfort and joy. In the midst of the church year, I enter and re-enter the God's presence and experience again the newness of God's salvation -- a re-creation of a new day.
In the predictability of my spiritual journey, there has also been beauty. Along the way, from town to town, from congregation to congregation, there are beautiful people, beautiful traditions, and beautiful expressions of the personal and corporate faith. Like the wildflowers in an open field, we are distracted by their beauty, only to discover that God's paint brush is still painting and still creating. Each new day, each new opportunity is yet another day for me to discover God's handiwork in my life. Like the flowers of an open field, each experience is different and each one an inspiration that keeps pushing me along through the field of God's grace.
Because a field is open and on a sunny day, we can feel the warmth of sun beating down upon the open field. Although it is not always the case, most of the time, I have found warmth in the people of the church. I would define this warmth as community. Although, I enjoy my alone time, as a Christian I have also understand the importance of community. In the context of the community, we share a common experience, participate in Holy Communion, and together we do the hard work of sharing the love of Christ Jesus with all the world -- always working toward the fulfillment of the great commission -- "go and make disciples of all nations." It is in this context that I have been encouraged, affirmed, and challenged. It is the warmth of the community that is not limited to that "warm, fuzzy feeling", but it is the one that speaks the truth in love. As the sun shines down upon an open field -- its wonderful creation is held accountable to its destination -- to be fruitful and multiply and along the way, we give our life to God's service just as Jesus gave his life for us.
Finally, my spiritual journey has been blessed with a diversity of experiences that I will covet as long as I have memory. In an open field, there is diversity. Amid the gently blowing grass is the safe hiding place of a rabbit, a chipmunk, or a wild cat. In a meadow there is the annoying buzz of a mosquito or the beautiful song of a lark. The flowers show off their colorful clothes and the sweet surprise of a raspberry bush scratches the skin of an unsuspecting human finding his way to the other side of the meadow. All of this is God's wonder and beauty which opens my eyes to a global community that is more than the borders of nations or the religious and cultural differences that define a nation and its people. My faith is personal and global, seeking and growing, and all of it sustained by the promise of resurrection hope. This is my spiritual journey -- a journey that is predictable and beautiful, warm and diverse and that feels right to me and so I babble on with my thoughts as I make my way through this winding, amazing, field of grace.
Why would I compare my spiritual journey to an open field or meadow? When I think of an open field, I think of four things, predictability, beauty, warmth, and diversity and such reflects my spiritual journey. Let me explain.
Growing up in the home of a pastor, my year and my week was predictable. So much of my life and the life of my family revolved around the predictable calendar of the church. Such is why I have chosen a field to define my spiritual journey. Human experience knows what a field looks like. It is usually overgrown with tall grass, low-lying shrubs (perhaps raspberry or blue berry bushes) , and a number of wildflowers are seen. In addition, one can see across the field perhaps to another field, a stream, or the edge of a woods and this is what makes a field predictable. In almost any field, I can see to the other side and I will not get lost. My spiritual life is shaped liked that. I can stand at the beginning of the church year and find my way through the seasons and by participating in its life, if find comfort and joy. In the midst of the church year, I enter and re-enter the God's presence and experience again the newness of God's salvation -- a re-creation of a new day.
In the predictability of my spiritual journey, there has also been beauty. Along the way, from town to town, from congregation to congregation, there are beautiful people, beautiful traditions, and beautiful expressions of the personal and corporate faith. Like the wildflowers in an open field, we are distracted by their beauty, only to discover that God's paint brush is still painting and still creating. Each new day, each new opportunity is yet another day for me to discover God's handiwork in my life. Like the flowers of an open field, each experience is different and each one an inspiration that keeps pushing me along through the field of God's grace.
Because a field is open and on a sunny day, we can feel the warmth of sun beating down upon the open field. Although it is not always the case, most of the time, I have found warmth in the people of the church. I would define this warmth as community. Although, I enjoy my alone time, as a Christian I have also understand the importance of community. In the context of the community, we share a common experience, participate in Holy Communion, and together we do the hard work of sharing the love of Christ Jesus with all the world -- always working toward the fulfillment of the great commission -- "go and make disciples of all nations." It is in this context that I have been encouraged, affirmed, and challenged. It is the warmth of the community that is not limited to that "warm, fuzzy feeling", but it is the one that speaks the truth in love. As the sun shines down upon an open field -- its wonderful creation is held accountable to its destination -- to be fruitful and multiply and along the way, we give our life to God's service just as Jesus gave his life for us.
Finally, my spiritual journey has been blessed with a diversity of experiences that I will covet as long as I have memory. In an open field, there is diversity. Amid the gently blowing grass is the safe hiding place of a rabbit, a chipmunk, or a wild cat. In a meadow there is the annoying buzz of a mosquito or the beautiful song of a lark. The flowers show off their colorful clothes and the sweet surprise of a raspberry bush scratches the skin of an unsuspecting human finding his way to the other side of the meadow. All of this is God's wonder and beauty which opens my eyes to a global community that is more than the borders of nations or the religious and cultural differences that define a nation and its people. My faith is personal and global, seeking and growing, and all of it sustained by the promise of resurrection hope. This is my spiritual journey -- a journey that is predictable and beautiful, warm and diverse and that feels right to me and so I babble on with my thoughts as I make my way through this winding, amazing, field of grace.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Where are we going?
In 1976, Diana Ross sang and popularized the song, Theme from Mahogany. In my High School it was a tradition for the graduating class to select their class song and the chosen selection was performed by our choir. The Theme from Mahogany was the song selected by my graduating class.When you look at the lyrics from this popular song, you will understand why my Senior class selected this song:
Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know...?
Such is the theme for Journey Place this week. Where are we going? This is more than a question for Journey Place, it is a question that each one of us need to ask of ourselves time and time again. The future trajectory Journey Place takes will depend upon the needs of the gathered community and the movement of the Holy Spirit. What I think would be more interesting is to reflect upon our own personal and spiritual journey -- the one we hope Journey Place can be an important part.
In High School we believe we are invincible, we are filled with pride and with a sense of personal accomplishment, and we believe there is a world of opportunities just waiting for us to discover, but we quickly learn that we're really not ready for the world. Instead of asking the tough question, 'do you know where you are going...', we settle for an unhealthy attachment to our High School and to our teen-age years. When we were in High School, the times were simpler and we felt safer because we were protected by our parents and we lived our lives chasing fantasies that hardly resemble the world of an adult. In addition, we have been brainwashed by our culture to live for the moment and we don't give enough time to think about tomorrow because we believe as our culture has taught us that tomorrow may never come.
Once we were standing still in time
Chasing the fantasies
That filled our minds
You knew how i loved you
But my spirit was free
Laughin' at the questions
That you once asked of me
I believe that our "stuck-ness", our penchant to mark time is because we haven't asked the spiritual questions -- the questions that can make a the difference between coping with life or living in despair, between the acceptance of our mortality or our unhealthy attachment to our past, or to answer the question, "Why am I here?" At the risk of over-using a well worn metaphor, I would like to suggest that a healthy person is like a three-legged stool: Our physical, emotional, and spiritual being must be in perfect balance. If one leg is missing the whole person falls and it is my belief that the reason there is so much sickness, so much despair, so many "adult children", so much greed and distorted egos, and so much loneliness in our world today is because our western society has neglected the spiritual leg of the human stool for three generations or more.
Do you know where you're going? Are you happy with what life is showing you? Do you know? And so I babble on with my thoughts on the question, 'where are we going?' For Journey Place that will unfold in due time, but what about you? Is your stool balanced? I wonder.
Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know...?
Such is the theme for Journey Place this week. Where are we going? This is more than a question for Journey Place, it is a question that each one of us need to ask of ourselves time and time again. The future trajectory Journey Place takes will depend upon the needs of the gathered community and the movement of the Holy Spirit. What I think would be more interesting is to reflect upon our own personal and spiritual journey -- the one we hope Journey Place can be an important part.
In High School we believe we are invincible, we are filled with pride and with a sense of personal accomplishment, and we believe there is a world of opportunities just waiting for us to discover, but we quickly learn that we're really not ready for the world. Instead of asking the tough question, 'do you know where you are going...', we settle for an unhealthy attachment to our High School and to our teen-age years. When we were in High School, the times were simpler and we felt safer because we were protected by our parents and we lived our lives chasing fantasies that hardly resemble the world of an adult. In addition, we have been brainwashed by our culture to live for the moment and we don't give enough time to think about tomorrow because we believe as our culture has taught us that tomorrow may never come.
Once we were standing still in time
Chasing the fantasies
That filled our minds
You knew how i loved you
But my spirit was free
Laughin' at the questions
That you once asked of me
I believe that our "stuck-ness", our penchant to mark time is because we haven't asked the spiritual questions -- the questions that can make a the difference between coping with life or living in despair, between the acceptance of our mortality or our unhealthy attachment to our past, or to answer the question, "Why am I here?" At the risk of over-using a well worn metaphor, I would like to suggest that a healthy person is like a three-legged stool: Our physical, emotional, and spiritual being must be in perfect balance. If one leg is missing the whole person falls and it is my belief that the reason there is so much sickness, so much despair, so many "adult children", so much greed and distorted egos, and so much loneliness in our world today is because our western society has neglected the spiritual leg of the human stool for three generations or more.
Do you know where you're going? Are you happy with what life is showing you? Do you know? And so I babble on with my thoughts on the question, 'where are we going?' For Journey Place that will unfold in due time, but what about you? Is your stool balanced? I wonder.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
A day with others
Community is the act of bringing together our diversity into a common purpose where each one works to his or her best ability to promote the well being of all who make up our community. So then, community is made up of more than one person and therefore requires certain sacrifices -- such is a day with others.
In addition, community "works toward a common end". From morning to noontime and afternoon to evening, work must be done. I remember spending time at Koinonia a long time ago. A group of us spent our spring break from college, visiting Koinonia. I remember that the morning began with prayer and praise -- looking forward to the new day, a new beginning. Each individual worshiped in their own way the new day, but that was just the beginning. Work assignments were given out and some of us worked in the kitchen preparing meals for the community, some of us worked in the chocolate factory making candy to be sold, some of us worked in the gardens and still others of us worked in the Pecan Groves, picking up pecans, trimming the dead branches and gathering the produce in such a way that the pecans would find their way into the chocolate.
The familiar hymn, "Work for the Night is Coming" reminds us of the importance of work each and every day. Here is the final verse of this familiar and beloved hymn:
Bonhoeffer suggests that the work of the world can be done only where a person forgets himself, where he loses himself in a cause, in reality, the task of work. Paul writes, "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." (Colossians 3:17) Whether working or praying, whether eating or fellowshiping, we are people that need a reason to work, a reason to pray, a reason to be with one another. This is community -- a day with others. So, I babble on, thinking about each day, each day that invites me into fellowship, calls me into community and to do all to the glory of God. This is the journey and the promise of life together.
In addition, community "works toward a common end". From morning to noontime and afternoon to evening, work must be done. I remember spending time at Koinonia a long time ago. A group of us spent our spring break from college, visiting Koinonia. I remember that the morning began with prayer and praise -- looking forward to the new day, a new beginning. Each individual worshiped in their own way the new day, but that was just the beginning. Work assignments were given out and some of us worked in the kitchen preparing meals for the community, some of us worked in the chocolate factory making candy to be sold, some of us worked in the gardens and still others of us worked in the Pecan Groves, picking up pecans, trimming the dead branches and gathering the produce in such a way that the pecans would find their way into the chocolate.
The familiar hymn, "Work for the Night is Coming" reminds us of the importance of work each and every day. Here is the final verse of this familiar and beloved hymn:
Work, for the night is coming,
Under the sunset skies;
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work, for daylight flies.
Work till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work, while the night is darkening,
When man’s work is o’er.
Under the sunset skies;
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work, for daylight flies.
Work till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work, while the night is darkening,
When man’s work is o’er.
The day's beginning and endings at the Koinonia Community reminds me of the sacred rhythm of daily living. There doesn't seem to be much glamor in the daily grind of work, but God created us to work and challenges us to find the rhythm of life in the sacred act of work. For most of us working is not done alone. O yes, there are times when we have to cut the grass, trim the bushes, wash the dishes, type a letter or any other number of jobs that really only one person can do, but even if we are the only ones doing it, we are not doing this for ourselves, we are doing it for others. We cut the grass, so bugs and other undesirable critters might not become too comfortable with our yard. We wash the dishes so that the dishes can be used again to feed our family. Letters are written for a purpose -- most likely to provide information to make our life and the lives of others more gratifying and pleasing. In the end, even when we find ourselves working alone, we do so believing that we are making the world a better place not just for us, but for all who work and pray together. Work is sacred and a part of our day with others.
Bonhoeffer suggests that the work of the world can be done only where a person forgets himself, where he loses himself in a cause, in reality, the task of work. Paul writes, "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." (Colossians 3:17) Whether working or praying, whether eating or fellowshiping, we are people that need a reason to work, a reason to pray, a reason to be with one another. This is community -- a day with others. So, I babble on, thinking about each day, each day that invites me into fellowship, calls me into community and to do all to the glory of God. This is the journey and the promise of life together.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Journey Place Community
What is community? This is the question that is on my mind as we plan Journey Place, a community of spiritual seekers on a journey to personal growth and community. Growing up I lived in what we might call "mid-America". For the most part I grew up in what we might imagine a town to be. There were homes of every size. The homes and the yards were carefully attended. Not much was out of place. The roofs were replaced when they needed to be. If the house needed painting, this was done too. The yards were not chemically treated in those days, but the folks kept the grass cut, the limbs picked up and the gardens were given the attention they needed to fit the picture of "mid-America." Not far from the residential area, there was the community park, the local Post Office, the corner store, the stone church that came to life every Sunday morning, and the sacred halls of the school that educated the town. Everything looked neat and tidy. Everyone interacted in apparent harmony, helping where needed and everyone played their roles with perfection. Is this community? Perhaps.
Growing up, I was known as the Preacher's Kid (PK). Although I saw myself as just another kid in the community, struggling through awkward childhood, playing crack the whip or red light, green light with my neighborhood buds, I was still treated differently by the community because I was the Preacher's Kid. This was particularly apparent when in the sixth grade, I rolled pieces of paper to make cigarettes and would pretend to smoke them. I remember this incident because my teacher embarrassed me in front of my class. She said, "Daniel, that is inappropriate for the son of a preacher. What would your father say?" I hung my head, realizing for the first time that being a PK required a different set of community expectations.
As a PK, I had my share of awkward moments, there was something charming about my life. You see, no matter where in "mid-America" my father moved, I knew what my role would be in the new community in which my father served. When I entered the new congregation my father was called to lead, I had an instant community, an instant family. I had more siblings than I could imagine, so many grandpas and grandmas and neat opportunities I wouldn't have experienced had I not been the son of a preacher. Could this be community? Is this the kind of community for Journey Place? Perhaps.
In his book, Life Together, Bonhoeffer reflects upon another notion of community -- one that is not so easily embraced. Bonhoeffer writes, "Every human wish dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive." Bonhoeffer seems to suggest in this context that "community" based upon human emotions and imagination is not a Christ-centered community. It would seem that my notion of community and what I know of community does not reflect God's notion of community. The houses, the parks, the public school, the community green are ideas formulated by human imagination. How we structure the social order, the family unit may not be of God. It would seem that genuine community seeks to understand God's truth above all other truths; It seeks to walk in the light of Jesus Christ and to live only to serve one another. This kind of love is called agape love -- love that sacrifices not just for family or friends, but a love that sacrifices for one another because our motivation is above all else is love and serve one another. This is a Christ-centered community.
This is a different notion of community that calls upon us to ask the hard questions of life, why am I here? What is my purpose? Why should Journey Place exist? All of these questions may find its answer in the journey to be the community that lives for a far greater calling to be a different kind of community where agape love is the value of the day. And so, I babel on -- not to find answers, but to explore the questions of life and perhaps find it in Journey Place, a different kind of community.
Growing up, I was known as the Preacher's Kid (PK). Although I saw myself as just another kid in the community, struggling through awkward childhood, playing crack the whip or red light, green light with my neighborhood buds, I was still treated differently by the community because I was the Preacher's Kid. This was particularly apparent when in the sixth grade, I rolled pieces of paper to make cigarettes and would pretend to smoke them. I remember this incident because my teacher embarrassed me in front of my class. She said, "Daniel, that is inappropriate for the son of a preacher. What would your father say?" I hung my head, realizing for the first time that being a PK required a different set of community expectations.
As a PK, I had my share of awkward moments, there was something charming about my life. You see, no matter where in "mid-America" my father moved, I knew what my role would be in the new community in which my father served. When I entered the new congregation my father was called to lead, I had an instant community, an instant family. I had more siblings than I could imagine, so many grandpas and grandmas and neat opportunities I wouldn't have experienced had I not been the son of a preacher. Could this be community? Is this the kind of community for Journey Place? Perhaps.
In his book, Life Together, Bonhoeffer reflects upon another notion of community -- one that is not so easily embraced. Bonhoeffer writes, "Every human wish dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive." Bonhoeffer seems to suggest in this context that "community" based upon human emotions and imagination is not a Christ-centered community. It would seem that my notion of community and what I know of community does not reflect God's notion of community. The houses, the parks, the public school, the community green are ideas formulated by human imagination. How we structure the social order, the family unit may not be of God. It would seem that genuine community seeks to understand God's truth above all other truths; It seeks to walk in the light of Jesus Christ and to live only to serve one another. This kind of love is called agape love -- love that sacrifices not just for family or friends, but a love that sacrifices for one another because our motivation is above all else is love and serve one another. This is a Christ-centered community.
This is a different notion of community that calls upon us to ask the hard questions of life, why am I here? What is my purpose? Why should Journey Place exist? All of these questions may find its answer in the journey to be the community that lives for a far greater calling to be a different kind of community where agape love is the value of the day. And so, I babel on -- not to find answers, but to explore the questions of life and perhaps find it in Journey Place, a different kind of community.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)