The Mantel of Remembrance

Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Taize Community, Taize France

I walk through the halls of Open Door Community and I am immediately surrounded by various pieces of art by Jacob Lawrence and other black artists. There is a photograph of the "father of Blues", W.C. Handy and the leading black author, Zora Neale Hurston found in the hallways at Open Door. There are banners advertising various events that are relevant to the community of Open Door. In the back hallway there is a mural drawn, remembering such peace activist as Phil and Daniel Berrigan and Catherine Morris. There are 66 rooms at Open Door Community and each one is named after such human rights advocates as Fredrick Douglas or Fannie Lou Hamer. Social activist like Caesar Chavez and Nelson Mandela are also remembered at Open Door. The the hallways, the rooms, stair case landings or small alcoves remind all who pass by that Open Door Community is a part of a great and wonderful tradition of prophets, activist, and people who believe in freedom and justice for all. Here, at Open Door, we are a "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...let us run with perseverance the race that is before us." Hebrews 12:1

Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Taize Community

As I climb the front staircase to my room on the second floor, I notice photographs of some wonderful people who have passed through the halls of Open Door Community. Most of these are brothers and sisters who have volunteered at Open Door Community in one capacity or another. Each of them have beautiful stories of overcoming barriers, addictions, terrible memories, or folks just seeking sanctuary to find rest, peace, and wholeness in an otherwise painful and difficult world. Each of them have compassion for the least, the marginal, and the poor. Each believe that God has called them to this place to walk alongside of those who come for hospitality and care. At some critical point in their life, Open Door Community volunteers were there for them and now they've chosen to be present for others who may be on a similar path or a very different one. Whatever the reason, they remembered the kind and generous care and concern of Open Door Community.

Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Taize Community

In the main hallway where many of our friends wait for their meal, a shower, or a change of clothes, there is a bulletin board filled with the photographs of our friends. Above this wall of pictures, in both English and Spanish, is the phrase: "No, no they are not numbers. They are names." Their smiles, some with broken teeth or no teeth at all, smile upon us as we live and work and serve our friends. Each day we are reminded that our friends are not vagrants with no name, no personality, or human soul. No, they are people -- people with real needs who are not only among the hundreds we feed each day, but are also our teachers, our friends, and our advocates. Each day this sacred wall reminds us that our family is more than those with whom we live and work, but they are our brothers and sisters on the streets of Atlanta. For these are God's children too.

Jesus remember me when I come into your kingdom
Jesus remember me when I come into your kingdom

Taize Community

As I pass by the bulletin board today where our friends smile down upon us, a picture of one of our friends is missing. We got word today that Willy died at Grady Hospital. He was a quiet man, but a good man. Many on the streets do not share too much for they are afraid they might say too much or be implicated for something they didn't do. Willy was getting old and the streets were too hard for an elderly man. Many who die on the streets have been estranged from their families and no one remembers them, but at Open Door Community we have a special place on the fireplace mantel in the living room where we place our friends who have died on the street because no one should die alone and forgotten. We pray for our sick friends daily and our hearts grieve when one of our trusted friends leaves this hard and cruel world and finds the peace they've never had on the streets of Atlanta. It is the least we can do at Open Door Community -- to remember our friends and prayerfully and with tears in our eyes, we carefully place our friend on the mantel of remembrance, never to be forgotten.

Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom
Taize Community

Life at Open Door Community is not just a community that feeds the hungry on the streets of Atlanta. Yes, it is a place of hospitality, resistance, and radical discipleship. For the people on the streets it is a family where they will not be forgotten, where they are not a number, but a person where their memory will live on. So, I babble on, soon to depart from Open Door, and I will carry with me the memories of this place and the loving way in which the folks at Open Door Community look upon our homeless friends as family and the promise that in life and in death, they will not be forgotten.

Bards of Justice and Righteousness

A colleague and UCC scholar Bruce Epperly writes, "In the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson in an address at the Harvard Divinity School, each person is a "bard of the Holy Ghost." We are called, in the words of Frederick Buechner to "listen to our lives." And in response we are challenged, in the words of Parker Palmer, to "let our lives speak." The topic I would like to reflect upon today is about characters whose stories shape our lives and inspire us to be 'bards of justice and righteousness.'

In his most recent book, A Million Miles and a Thousand Years, Donald Miller makes this observation of life. He writes, "Is life and love and death anything more than random happenings?" In this book, Miller has been invited to make a movie about his life and through a series of interesting conversations, reflections, and experiences he discovers that life is more than passive, random experiences that happen to you. Instead, he discovers that great people don't want easy stories and they are characters who face their greatest fears with courage. This is what makes a compelling story for us and the generations that follow.

When we think of great people in history, in our country, our community, or our family, what we remember are the stories -- the stories that tell us something about them even though we may not have personally known them. Their stories teach us something about ourselves, what is important, the choices they have made, or examples we may not choose or choose to emulate. While at Open Door Community in Atlanta, I have met some remarkable people. I have visited President Jimmy Carter's Freedom Center and his Presidential Library, I have made a pilgrimage to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center, and through stories and writings, I have met the late Dorthy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker movement. The people I have met in person, through selected writings, or through the museums I have visited has caused me to think about the power of story and its compelling vision that inspires and motivates us to live our lives in such a way that we live it working toward justice, righteousness, and human dignity for all.

After an angry diatribe of the God's disgust with the ways of humanity, the festivals we delight in, the songs we like to sing, and the sacrifices we think we are being called to give to the Lord, Amos simply says, "But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Amos 5:25 In this text Amos gives to the people what Donald Miller calls, an inciting incident -- an incident that forces the characters to move. An inciting incident disrupts our comfortable life and creates conflict for us so that we'll deepen our convictions and be more passionate about our lives. Jimmy Carter once said, "My feeling is that if we refuse to try something that might fail, we lack faith either in ourselves or in our causes and goals." President Carter is a courageous bard of justice and righteousness and the decisions that he has made throughout his life and since his involuntary retirement as President of the United States, have been made because he believed and continues to believe that life for all of humanity can be better than many around the world have experienced.

Martin Luther King, Jr., was a man of tremendous faith, courage, and optimism that believed in a different kind of story, a story that believed that all men and women, youth and children will know equality and justice. "If physical death is the price that I must pay to free my white brothers and sisters from a permanent death of the spirit, then nothing can be more redemptive." He believed with all of his heart that "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Martin Luther was assassinated because he believed in a different kind of story -- a story where all people, no matter their race or color, can be free to reap the abundant blessings of God that have been given to people of all colors, nationalities, or religious beliefs. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a bard of justice and righteousness.

Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker found her story in the midst of poverty, injustice, loneliness, and a desire and passion to give to others what she longed for, the experience of love, mutual respect, and justice. She wrote in The Commonweal, November 4, 1949, "It is by the Works of Mercy that we shall be judged." Dorothy Day, like Martin Luther King, Jr. or former President Jimmy Carter, have chosen to live a story that has not been a story about us, but a story about others. They are choosing to live into a story that lives out the request of God from the prophet Amos, "Let justice roll down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." They have chosen to live a story that inspires us to be listen to the stories around us and respond with our own story and our own passions to be bards of justice and righteousness. They are worthy examples of courageous characters that give us confidence to try something even if we fail.

I am reminded of the wonderful story in Luke, the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The scripture says, "The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham" (vs. 22). As the story proceeds we read that the "rich man also died and was buried in Hades where he was being tormented" (vs. 22-23) From Hades, the rich man looked up and saw Lazarus in the arms of Abraham and he begged for mercy, asking that Lazarus dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue" (vs. 24) Abraham refused and reminded the rich man how sumptuously he lived everyday and how Lazarus begged to satisfy his hunger. Feeling that Abraham would not give in, he tries one more tact, he asks that he send Lazarus to his father's house to warn his five brothers of this terrible place, hoping that someone from the dead might cause them to change their greedy ways. But Abraham replies, "They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them." (vs. 29) Still pleading, the rich man hears the final decree from Abraham, "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead." (vs. 31)

And so I babble on and with the help of friends I have met, places I have visited, and the books I have read while at Open Door Community, I have deeper understanding and appreciation for the meaning of radical hospitality and discipleship. Miller reminds us that we have a story to live -- a story that is not paralyzed by fear, but incidents that incite us to face our fears and our uncertainty with courage. Amos tells us what we need to do to please God and contemporary prophets like Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, Jr., President Jimmy Carter, or the people I have met at Open Door remind us what it means to be bards of justice and righteousness. Like the rich man, God has sent us prophets, both ancient and contemporary who remind us that the work on earth is not done and there are still many more stories to be written. So we ask ourselves one simple question, what kind of story are you writing?

Book Review: The Once and Future Church

The Once and Future Church: Reinventing the Congregation for a New Mission Frontier
By Loren B. Mead
Alban Institute: New York, N.Y., 1991

In his book, The Once and Future Church, Mead makes the following observation about the church today. "The Church of Christendom structured itself to address mission beyond the Empire. That meant that it built parish systems, regional structures, and national entities that could gather and deploy resources to the critical point on the missionary frontier. Because that frontier was far away, it required the kinds of logistics and organization it takes to mount a military campaign in a far-off land. There were lots of training camps to prepare the key troops, special training for the leaders, airplanes ans hips for transport, policy decisions at high levels at meetings of the generals and the prime ministers, and total support from the citizens at home." [Mead, Page 58]

This quote puts into perspective both the result of 2000 years of building up the church that we know today and why we need to move to a new paradigm to define the church and its mission. In many ways, Mead has been prophetic in his analysis of the church today. This is not the first time that I have read this book. In fact, I've read his book twice before and continue to be amazed at his insights and his analysis. In 1991, Mead was already beginning to see the amazing shift of the church from a centralized, well organized, well funded and resourced church to the shrinking "mainline" church that is struggling to remain a viable faith community in changing times.

Mead's fundamental thesis in this small, but powerful book is that the Christendom paradigm has become so much a part of the society's social, economic, and political structure that it has forgotten its purpose as a missional church. He argues that now is the time (really the decade of the 90's) is the time to break loose from the structure and trappings of the establishment and return to the Apostolic model that he believes is more faithful to the intent of the early Christian community and more quickly adaptable to the rapid changes we are experiencing in this high-tech and globalized world. In the review that follows, I will look at what Mead believes the best model for the church must be if we are to adapt to the 21st century.

Mead believes that the Christendom paradigm is no longer an effective model for the church today. The Christendom paradigm began in the fourth century with Emperor Constantine when in 313 A.D., Constantine declared Christianity to be the official religion of the Roman empire. This declaration by the Roman Emperor, the congregation was enlarged to include everything Roman. The congregation was the church; the church was the empire. With this new relationship between the church and Empire the structure, its mission, the congregation, and expectations of clergy and laity changed. In effect this relationship fortified the church from the mission field, which up until this point, had been the mission of the local congregation. Now, in this new paradigm, mission had become a "far-off enterprise". No longer would mission be the direct responsibility of the ordinary person, but it would become a ministry of the"larger church", the institutional church.

Besides the change in the congregation's understanding of mission, with the Emperors decree, the boundaries between the sacred and secular became blurred. Bishops, kings and princes were leaders of the church and of the empire. In this new context, the nature of the church was no longer a tight community of committed and embattled believers that would support one another in the hostile environment. Rather, the empire divided up the congregation by geographical boundaries and identified an area as a parish. The drive to unify this diverse people across vast geographic areas gave way to regional bodies governed by a Bishops, Priests, or Cardinals, thus creating a hierarchy that did not exist before this time. This hierarchical system was then imported to the United States where we adopted similar models in order to unify our congregations. During this time, clear roles and expectations were set between the clergy and lay leaders. Instead of being zealous missionaries where leadership was often assumed by passionate lay people, the church became a religious system that was more passionate about morality, turf, doctrine, structure, and denominations than they were about mission. Nearly two thousand years later, we are still working under a structure that we inherited from Constantine and the Holy Roman Empire.

In his book, Mead would argue that today's congregations are living in a time when familiar landmarks have been erased and old ways have stopped working. He believes that if the church is to survive into its next incarnation, we will have to return to the church of an earlier time, a model Mead has called the Apostolic paradigm. The Apostolic paradigm for the church is a community formed of common values and shaped by a story within a larger, hostile environment. The apostolic community was called to reach out to the environment or as Jesus said in Matthew, "...go into the world" and be in the world but not of it. This is the church's new call.

In his book, Mead identifies the changes that are occurring in church life and whether we want it to or not, we are in the midst of a seismic shift in our understanding of church. Destiny has placed its hand upon Christendom and the shrinking pool of resources, religious people, and the competition of many, many spiritual and religious options that are available to the population is forcing its hand upon the changes that have begun and will continue to transform the church in the 21st century. In this time of transformation, Mead identifies three polarities that will define the church of the future. They are Parish vs. Congregation, Servant-hood vs. Conversion, and whether the congregation identifies itself as an exclusive organization with a clear understanding of who is in and who is out or whether it chooses to be an inclusive congregation that risks a more laissez faire attitude where anything goes. Each of these polarities alone is not the church of the future, rather it is a creative tension between them and with an eye always toward the hostile world around us.

In summary, Mead's thesis is that a new church is being born around us. This notion is better presented and argued in the previous book I reviewed entitled, Borderland Churches. Both Mead and Nelson would agree that the Christendom paradigm is rapidly fading. The theology, the structure, the mission priorities of Christendom still surround us, support us, and frustrate us all at the same time. God's call for the church is God's call for newness, not only for the church, but also for a new world. Those of us serving, participating, and leading in this new movement are called to renew and embrace the new church, not as an institution from the past, but as a centering presence from which we may serve the new church and the new world that God is creating around us. Now is the time to see the new possibilities and the new ways in which God is renewing and re-creating his Church.

The Open Window

I awoke to the sound of voices early this morning. They were coming from the yard below, an early morning sanctuary for the night traveler, tired from his long and lonely walk. Amid the noise of the early morning traffic along the street outside my window, there are spirited conversations below; At times they are quiet and thoughtful and other times loud and rather boisterous for a sleeping neighborhood. The water from the hose is turned on and splashes down the dusty driveway. Some were brushing their teeth while others splashed the cool water on their faces to wash away the slumber from their tired, red eyes. Occasionally a waft of stale cigar smoke or used puff from cigarettes would drift through my open window, an opium for a hard life on the streets of Atlanta. The public bathrooms are two floors beneath me and the slam of the door reminds me that our friends with their loud and boisterous voices are human just like me and this morning they can find relief in the public bathrooms open to our friends along a street called Ponce de Leon Ave.

Our friends spend the night moving from one public place to another as police officers patrol the public places looking for anyone who is littering public space with their bodies or their belongings that may consist of a change of clothes in a plastic bag or a backpack with a few nibbles of food and the rest of their earthly belongings. They're trying to rest, but find no place to lay their head. The public bathrooms in Atlanta close at 7 p.m. each night and remain locked until 7 a.m. the next morning. Not only is there no quiet place to rest for the night, neither is there a private place to answer nature's call. Our homeless friends are used to being harassed, humiliated, belittled, and scorned for it happens everyday. Will someone make room for our friends? Will someone offer a warm embrace, a kind word, or a sanctuary of peace in a hostile world? I wonder.

Our friends are not alone. Yes there are many on the streets of Atlanta, but that is not what I mean. I know a friend who was born in a shelter -- the only place open for a homeless couple. By the time he was 12 years old, he had been a child refugee on the run in a land he did not know. My friend reminds me that each night he looks for a place to lay his head, for he has no place to call his home. In addition, my friend is a despised criminal and there are many who want him killed. My friend is homeless too and seeks a sanctuary where he can brush his teeth and answer nature's call.

Through my open window, I hear a voice below me. The water is running down the dusty driveway and the door to the public bathroom has just slammed closed. The early morning air, mixed with stale cigar smoke and used up cigarette smoke drifts through my window and awakens me from my slumber and I wonder could I be feeding Jesus today? I wonder.

Setting the Captive Free

I remember my first sermon in a rural church in Western Pennsylvania. It was Ascension Sunday (most likely in May) and I preached on Psalm 47. This is a joyous Psalm for a joyous occasion and I did my best to preach a heartfelt and passionate sermon. The congregation was appreciative of my work, but it seemed to me that I was a little heavy on all that exciting exegetical stuff I learned in Seminary and was eager to show my preaching skills off in such a way that the folks would be glad they called me to serve as their pastor.

I bring this up in the context of my blog because I am remembering Jesus' first sermon which was much more powerful, succinct, and compelling. Jesus boldly proclaims to his home congregation this portion of scripture from the prophet Isaiah. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19) And Jesus went on to say, even more powerfully and courageously, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." (Luke 4:21b) Jesus makes it very clear why he has come and in this sermon Jesus effectively signed his own death certificate. It would be from this point on that he would be considered an enemy of the state and a heretic in the context of the Jewish community. For Jesus this was not an intent to be a martyr, but instead to cast a new vision for God's people; It is an attempt to model God's love and to be set free from the trappings and expectations of his religious community.

Clearly Jesus presents to us a challenge that the volunteers at Open Door Community take seriously. On the third Saturday of every month, volunteers from Open Door Community and area churches provide a wonderful ministry for families living in greater Atlanta to board vans closer to home and take the two hour trip to Hardwick prison so that the families can visit their husbands, brothers, fathers, uncles, sons, or grandfathers. Along the way, we eat together and community forms as we live out the content of Jesus' very first sermon, "...proclaim release to the captives and set the oppressed free." In this act of kindness and compassion, the families of inmates are free to love as fully as they can within the limited rights and privileges of our justice system.

The Open Door Community seeks to "release the captives and set the oppressed free" by providing transportation to Hardwick prison and they are also present with the men and women who are on "death row" in the State of Georgia. In particular, I am inspired by the story of Jack Alderman who was executed by the State of Georgia on September 10, 2008. What was particularly inspiring to me about Jack's execution is that he was always free and he showed this time and time again in the way he mentored others, how he talked to people, and how in his passion and deep faith, he knew he would be all right. While the guards, the Warden, the Governor, the Parole Board, and those who were invited to witness Jack's state sanctioned murder believed he received justice, Jack turned our justice system upside side.

It is customary in our warped justice system to offer the condemned inmate a final meal of his or her choice. On the day he was to be executed, Jack was offered this choice and he turned it down. He wrote next to "last meal request" nothing. Even after he had been taunted by the guards, "You're from Savannah, don't you want a pile of fried shrimp?" His answer was still no. Later he said, "Of course I would love a pile of fried shrimp, but not here, not from the people who are going to murder me. If I wasn't about to be murdered here in this prison, I would want a spoonful of every kind of ice cream that has been invented in the last 30 years that I've not tasted. But not here. I will not allow the ones who are killing me to pretend that they can both be kind to me and kill me at the same time. And I will not give those who love death the satisfaction of reading about my meal in the papers." [Cogswell, Lauren. Waiting for Death, Choosing Life. February 2010] All through his ordeal, Jack was already free.

As I reflect on Jack's situation, I cannot help but think of Jesus' experience before Pilate and a community that had already decided his guilt. Like Jack, the system played nice for Jesus. "They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him." (Matthew 27:28-29) All through his trial, condemnation, torture, and crucifixion, Jesus modeled freedom. "...Are you the King of the Jews? Jesus answered, you say that I am." (Luke 23:3) Like his first sermon in his home synagogue, Jesus freed himself from the structures of a system that protected people of power and privilege. Standing before Pilate and his religious community he mocks the powers that be by denying them the privilege to humiliate him and to take his dignity away. This is power. This is freedom.

And so it is with radical discipleship and so I babble on about freedom, freedom that is given when volunteers drive families to see their loved ones in prison, freedom to share a meal with one another in the spirit of solidarity and radical discipleship, freedom to turn down a meal to show an unjust system that they only think they have power over us. This is proclaiming the the year of the Lord's favor. This is God's grace.

Book Review: Borderland Churches

Borderland Churches: A Congregation's Introduction to Missional Living.
By Gary V. Nelson
Chalice Press: St. Louis, 2008

In a previous blog I reflected upon the church in exile and found Borderland Churches to be an incredibly practical and insightful book, but one that is not without its challenge. The challenge for me as a pastor in these changing times, is how to apply Nelson's insights to my church or any church that is struggling with the notion of how to be the church in exile, a church that is no longer the center of the community's life and now finds itself on the edge of civilization or what we shall call, the borderlands.

Nelson makes a compelling argument that the since 1955, the "mainline" churches have been slowly pushed to the edges of society (into the borderlands) for a variety of reasons. Today, affluent people have more choices as to what they can and are able to do and church activities are no longer a first consideration. In the borderlands, there is clearly a lack of support from the community, the schools, the athletic teams, the merchants and community leaders for our churches today. These choices and others that have been made over the the last fifty plus years have pushed our churches to the borderlands.

Early in his book, Nelson makes the following observation, "My experience of ministering to this diverse crew of people often left me wishing it could just be "normal" -- a place where attendance was sure and language, rhythms and ethos recognizable to that in which I had grown up." [Nelson, Page 2] We long for normal. The trouble is that our perception of normal is based upon post WW II structures, institutions, attitudes, and expectations. Nelson goes onto say in Chapter 1 that churches, and especially pastors, who live and work out of this 1955 paradigm will not survive the exile. "How can we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?" (Psalm 137:4) And so in his book, Borderland Churches, Nelson helps us find our way through this holy time of living in the borderlands.

Nelson is very clear in his book that the churches today must embrace, joyfully, their new status, churches doing ministry in the borderlands. The author contends that the borderlands is where the church should have always been -- at the edges of society. It is in the borderlands where Christian faith, other faiths, and un-faith intersect. Mission is always lived in the borderlands. Nelson believes that the churches that can embrace a missional vision within the community in which our churches and congregations reside, will survive this time of exile. He believes that the church today has constructed a God of our own making -- a God who is way too safe. [Nelson, Page 5] Nelson believes that God who is unpredictable and "holy wild" is not to our liking, but it is where the church today must be -- on the borderland.

Nelson does not leave the reader to his own vices and his own imagination as to the "how to" of being a borderland church. His book takes the reader through the journey of embracing the "holy wild" of God. There are many, many helpful suggestions that are bound in this book and one could spend many weeks, perhaps years moving from the predictable institution of the church to the wild and unpredictable ways of the Holy Other in the borderlands. However, there are two images that I believe summarize this journey for the church today that I think have some practical ramifications for all of us who are a part of emergent and emerging church. Nelson uses the Hebrew word, h'abar, which translates in English as "crossover" to talk about what must be done if we are to survive this time of change for our congregations and our churches.

H'abar first appears in Joshua, Chapter 3 in the context of the Jordan River and the Promised Land. The people of God are musing over their movement across the Jordan to the Promised Land. They are curious and afraid all at once as they gaze across the great river. Joshua, attempting to encourage and challenge them about their next step speaks out. His words portray great understanding of the mix of emotions they are feeling as they look out into the unknown. [Nelson, Page 27] He even heightens their anxiety, reminding them that they "have not passed this way before." (Joshua 3:4) Once we cross the Jordan River -- to the borderlands -- we can never turn back for from that moment on, our life will be forever changed. This renewal will not emerge from new programs, transformed denominations structures, or creative strategies. This 'abar time will require a re framing of attitudes, assumptions and frameworks long before the finished product emerges. [Nelson, Pages 33-34] Nelson spends most of the book from this point on writing about, helping church leaders, and showing us how we can make that transition to the borderlands where the church is free to do the missional work that God has always wanted from us.

The "crossover" to the Promised Land, the Border Land, is the first step of faith for Church today. In addition to this inspiring vision of the church, I also share with you another vision of the Border Land Church. This helpful image of living in the borderlands, comes to us from the prophet Jeremiah. In Jeremiah 29, the Hebrew people find themselves captive in an unwanted world. They are void of familiar rhythms and themes and the psalmist cries out through the ages, "How can we sing the the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?" (Psalm 137:4) In Jeremiah 29, God still responds to our cry. In chapter 29 from verse four through eleven, the prophet informs the exiles how to behave in exile. Although frustrating to us, these words state a critical truth for those of us who are fearful of the future, angry at the present, or simply paralyzed to do anything about the reality of a broken world. God's answer to the Hebrew exiles and to us comes with a pragmatic command to live in these days. We did not choose to live in these times and God most certainly does not call us back to a previous time where all appeared predictable, sterile, and safe. No, God calls us to live in these challenging times and to believe that if God put us here in this time and place and under the very circumstances that confound us, God will most certainly deliver us to new heights, new places and bring us to a deeper, more abiding faith that can endure life in the borderlands. God commands the Hebrew people to "...Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters...Increase in number there and do not decrease."(Jeremiah 29:5-6)

In summary, let it be said that for various reasons the Church today is at a point where radical decisions must be made. The past is no more and in essence, the prophet Jeremiah says to the Hebrew people, to you and to me that we must deal with this new reality -- this reality that we did not choose to embrace, but now must. Although the prophet may seem harsh, he leaves us with good news. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) Let it be said and let us believe that we will not be left alone along this borderland journey. For as God has been with the faithful throughout the ages, so will God be with us today, leading us through the borderlands to the Promised Land where things cannot return to what was, but can become an even more perfect gift. Welcome to the borderlands!

People of Passion

"We are not alone. We are not alone. Deep in my heart I do believe that we shall overcome some day." Having now completed a weekly cycle with Open Door Community, I have observed volunteers, both residential and weekly, who are passionate about serving the homeless and the marginalized. Deep in their hearts the volunteers believe that no one should be alone. Each person should know justice and each one we serve on a given day is worth more than the time spent preparing and serving our friends. The ministry of Open Door Community is more than a bowl of soup, a sandwich, a warm shower, a new pair of shoes or badly needed foot care. The ministry of Open Door Community is about restoring dignity, treating the stranger and the marginalized with respect and honor, mindful that among the homeless today, Jesus Christ will be fed.

Each day, before we invite our guests in from the street, the community engages in Bible Study and prayer and we explore the role of servant, radical hospitality, and the meaning of gratitude, gratitude, not for the things we have or even for our family and friends, but the privilege to serve our Savior -- the one who is homeless, cold, dirty, and humiliated. Each day one of the least of these express their gratitude for the kindness we have shown them in sharing a bowl of soup. Each day we need to remind ourselves that it is not what I have done for you, it is what you have done for me -- you have given me an opportunity to provide hospitality, to serve God's children by providing a warm meal to carry you through the long days and longer nights. Your decision to come to Open Door today is not about what we have provided, but rather what you have provided for us, the joy of serving one of God's children. This is the passion of Open Door Community.

Besides a passion to serve the homeless and the marginal, Open Door Community has been a significant partner in the group, "Georgians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty" (GFADP) Last night, Open Door Community joined GFADP for the 3rd Annual Mary Ruth Weir Memorial Dinner. Mary Ruth Weir died an untimely death to cancer, but until the day she died, Mary Ruth Weir was a passionate advocate to end the death penalty and gave up a fulfilling job, many material blessings to begin a partner community, Jubilee Partners, that believed in a simple life, passionate people open to the Spirit's leading and advocating for equality and justice for all.

As I reflect on Open Door Community and courageous leaders in social justice such as Mary Ruth Weir, I am remembering other courageous people who put their lives on the line time and time again. "One Day, after Moses had grown up he went out to his people and saw their forced labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsfolk. He looked this way and that, and seeing no one he killed the Egyptians and hid him in the sand." (Exodus 2:11-12) Although Mary Ruth and the members of Open Door Community would not advocate violence to others, they like Moses, are passionate about justice. They, like Moses, will put their life on the line in order that justice will be done. "Deep in my heart I do believe that we shall overcome some day."

Moses was passionate about justice. There is another story of passion that comes to us from the gospels. "Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned tables. he told those who were selling the doves, 'Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!" (John 2:15-16) Once again we witness the passion of another example of faith and once again Jesus reminds each of us who set up our tables to buy and sell that this is not a value of God's Realm. People are not a commodity, animals are not butchered for our indiscretions and burned on the altar to fulfill a pagan ritual of reconciliation. This is not justice and it is not what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.

The work of justice, equality, dignity and integrity of all of creation requires passionate people. None of us can fulfill all of what needs to be done, but together this community and the communities of our world have made a difference. In the midst of the abuse, the insults, the name-calling, and the hard work of social justice, we are called to remember Jesus command, "Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.' I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my passionate disciples, if you have love for one another." John 13:33-35

So it is with Mary Ruth Weir and the passionate people of Open Door Community. "Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go." John 21:18. And so I babble on about justice, I babble on about radical discipleship and my soul sings with gospel choirs throughout the ages, "We shall overcome. We shall over come some day. Deep in my heart, I do believe that we shall overcome some day." Whether we are doing justice from behind a pot of soup, sharing in the grief and pain of family members visiting loved ones at the Georgia State Prison, or participating in a candle-light vigil on the day of an execution, people of passion must find strength and courage in what we know is right and one day, we shall overcome.