Reminiscing

There are all kinds of things on my list to blog about... prayer, fundraising, the joy of the season... but I find that what comes to my fingertips this Friday afternoon has to do with Christmases past.  It seems like such a flurry of winters have come and gone-- amusingly different every year.

Let's start with last year... 2010

       A good chunk of time at home, playing with horses and donkeys, my first Christmas back after moving to San Diego.

2009
  Getting ready to move to San Diego-- a Christmas tinged with anticipation, as I finished raising support, packed up the Corolla and started across the country on December 27th.  It was also the first Christmas after the death of my aunt Becky, so we were all navigating holiday grieving.  But on the plus side, Jack graduated from college!

2008
 Just coming off my first big house-sitting gig (of several) in Tennessee, I was trying to figure out what on earth to do with my life.  I had just visited San Diego and started conversations with CRM; I was enrolling as an Inquirer for ordination with the PC(USA).    I worked part-time doing odd jobs-- everything from farm work to office help to Spanish translation.  (I think that was the year of 5 or 6 W-2 statements!)

2007
 I needed a break from Miami sunshine.  And a break from an exhausting job in economic development, serving with the Young Adult Volunteer program. (In the picture you can see, celebration of winter holidays is a strange, strange affair in South Florida.)

2006
 I had just finished my final semester at Williams!  I spent January doing a horse-training internship.  I thought I might get a nonprofit job in the northeast.  It wasn't to be.  I moved back home to Tennessee, worked part-time, and started going on adventures...


Zooming back to the present-- 2011
  I'll be returning home to Tennessee with the man I'm going to marry.  Seriously.  The man I didn't know existed a year ago.

Conclusion: Life is funny.  I feel better having all that in perspective now.  Next post: on cyclical spiritual development and patterns that God weaves into the daily details.

What if... An Advent Conspiracy

[AC] Promo 2011 from Advent Conspiracy on Vimeo.

Resetting

When I first moved to San Diego, I felt strongly that the best thing I could do most of the time was to pray.  Many days, that was the most solid and promising option in front of me.  My job, as it was written, was to follow leads and nudges from the Holy Spirit, hoping to find the transformation of people and cities in the process. 

Almost two years later, I find myself back in the quiet place of waiting.  Appropriate to Advent, it seems that new things are growing - gestating - mysteriously bulging... yet staying out of sight.  I've ridden out a circuit on the missionary roller coaster, and now... I'm waiting for a track change.  I've done the adventure of getting settled and learning my way around.  I've jumped in and plunged my hands into the muck of urban ministry work.  I've traveled and made the rounds; I've learned names and collected cards; I've introduced myself and said goodbye as friends left town.

Now what?

Now, I have had a few successes and I have run into my limits.  Now I have watched as the rules to the game changed, as congregations shifted, and as people made discerning decisions.  Now, I'm getting married.  Now I am leading a ministry team. 

Now what?

Now I pray.  Now I wait.  Now I follow in trust and hope, remembering that with God nothing is wasted-- prayerful waiting included.

Giving Thanks in a Historically Based Sort of Way

The past couple of days, it's crossed my mind a few times to write a bit about Thanksgiving.  Not my list-- though I have plenty to be thankful for.  Not my plans-- they aren't terribly creative (turkey, potatoes, family, friends).  Not my diatribe about how you can't jump into the Christmas season until we've passed this critical juncture in November-- I don't think I'm winning that battle.  Rather, what I want to say on Thanksgiving is pretty simple:

Thank you.

I am thankful for those who knew this land (North America) and were willing to teach very strange, pale people how to survive in it.  I am grateful for this beautiful place that was cherished long before I got here. I am grateful for the legacy of Native North Americans, and I am grateful that racism and genocide did not have the final word in their history-- our history.  

Spurred on by words from Mark Charles, I want to thank those Americans who've been ignored and shut away for most of our national history.  Especially as a follower of Jesus and reader of the history of a persecuted people (in the Bible), I join in mourning and prayer for renewal of indigenous populations. I offer thanks for undeserved generosity and welcome in this land.  Especially on Thanksgiving, I choose to remember things that would be easier to forget, people who have been told they are unwanted and forgotten, circumstances that make it hard for many to be grateful.

When Things Seem Mundane

I admit I've been reluctant to blog lately.  But then, one of those profound thoughts hit me-- the kind of idea that only comes at strange moments like walking to your car or getting out of the shower or peeling a potato.

Regardless of whether my activities feel profound and meaningful, they are still the things that I do for a living.  And the people who support what I do for a living might actually want to know those things too, right?  As Oswald Chambers reminded me this morning (My Utmost for His Highest),

"The tendency is to look for the marvelous in our experience; we mistake the sense of the heroic for being heroes.  It is one thing to go through a crisis grandly, but another thing to go through every day glorifying God when there is no witness, no limelight, no one paying the remotest attention to us.  Even if we do not want medieval halos, we want something that will make people say-- What a wonderful man of prayer he is!  What a pious devoted woman she is!  To the contrary, if you are rightly devoted to the Lord Jesus, you have reached the sublime height where no one ever thinks of noticing  you, all that is noticed is that the power of God comes through you all the time... The test of the life of a saint is not success, but faithfulness in human life as it actually is."

Lately, there's been a lot of 'human life' going on.  Not only the realities of my own life preparing for marriage, but those of my roommates, bopping in and out of our apartment; those of my colleagues in ministry who are re-financing and renovating and sending kids to college; those of my family members searching for and acquiring new jobs; those of my neighbors and friends having birthdays, going to the grocery store, celebrating, mourning, etc, etc.

And in the midst of it all, I don't have many amazing moments of revelation with God.  Most of the time when I peel potatoes, I am just peeling potatoes.  Yet, every now and then, I remember that I live an extraordinary life.  Its extraordinariness does not come from my travels or adventures or brilliant ideas, I hope, but from devotion to God.  To be truly faithful, patient, loving, kind, self-controlled, and submitted to God is an extraordinary goal in life.  And that goal gets played out not at conferences or big events, but in my daily relationships and choices.

Maybe not marvelous, but perhaps not so terribly mundane either.  It's life.  By the grace of God, a life becoming more devoted to Jesus.

By Candlelight

 I hope to attend this on Sunday.  Please pray with me for the men and women who face death on San Diego's streets.

I think of Saints

I promise... my blog has not been captured by a Sara Groves promoter.  But seriously, this woman can write and sing my heart.  I was thinking of this song all day... and then it was the first thing that popped up on Pandora!!!!  So in honor of All Saints Day...

"When the Saints"

Awakening

lyrics by Sara Groves
 
Dress down your pretty faith, give me something real
Leave out the Thee and Thou and speak to me now
Speak to my pain and confusion
Speak through my fears and my pride
Speak to the part of me that knows I'm something deep down inside
I know that I'm not perfect, but compare me to most
In a world of hurt in a world of anger I think I'm holding my own
And I know that you've said there is more to life
No I am not satisfied
But there are mornings I wake up and I’m just thankful to be alive
I've known for quite a while that I am not whole
I've remembered the body and the mind, but dissected the soul
Now something inside is awakening
Like a dream I once had and forgot
And it's something I'm scared of and something I don't want to stop
I woke up this morning and realized
Jesus is not a portrait
Or stained glass windows
Or hymns
Or all the tradition that surrounds us
I thought it would be hard to believe in, but it's not hard at all
To believe I've sinned
And fallen short
Of the glory of God
He's not asking me to change in my joy for martyrdom
He's asking to take my place
To stand in the gap that I have formed
With His real amazing grace
And it's not just a sign or a sacrament
It's not just a metaphor for love
The blood is real and it's not just a symbol of our faith

Memories

"Memories are stacked to form the walls of a history that is both personal and collective.  More like a sandcastle than a fortress, these walls shift... reshaped by the tides of observation.  Within our memories are clusters of events, places, and people that we may at once long for and retreat from."

-Taken from the opening words of an art exhibit in the Albany Airport called "Keeping Time"

Make Disciples

Shared by a colleague at meetings earlier this week.

Been Awhile

I've noticed that all of us blogger-folk say mas o menos the same thing when we've fallen off the wagon.  We've been busy, don't know what happened, and will have captivating new material up soon.  =)  Since I don't need to say any of that...


It feels like life is sort of but not really getting back to normal.  The fall will resume some regular rhythms of small group Bible study and roommate dinner night, but I also find myself in uncharted territory personally and professionally.  I'm now leading the team in which I was the 'new recruit' just 2 years ago.  I'm beginning to plan for marriage with Christian.  I'm considering what kind of commitment I will have to San Diego for the near future.  I'm wondering which ministry activities to pursue and which ones to let go.  It's my norm, yet not at all normal!

I do wish I had blogged through the summer, especially on the Trek.  There are always so many golden moments and nuggets that take place.  Maybe, just maybe, I will post some of them here... but no promises!  First, I want to get you and myself current.  Then, we'll see what else fits in.

Snapshot: Workspace at the Wire

Leaving for the Trek TOMORROW!!!!!
Can't believe it's already here.
Global Urban Trek 2011.  Lima, Peru.
7 weeks, 10 students, 3 staff, 2 ministry organizations.

Romans 12: 1-2 - "So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you."

Snapshot: Discernment

Seriously.  This is what it looks like when I take a day to dialogue with God (and with documents/ notes/ writings) about future direction in ministry.

Good thoughts came out, too.  Common themes: vision, the WORLD, advocate, the poor, mobilize, prophetic discipleship, Church, bridge/ connect/ invite...  It is so cool to see patterns over the years through books and journals and jotted scraps.

Dreams for the Trek

[Departure countdown: 5 days!]
Allow me to share the things we've been dreaming and praying for college students as they come on the Trek to spend 6 weeks in God's cities this summer.  Please pray and dream with me!!!

Primary Trek Objectives:

-      Vocational discernment of what it means to join God’s work among the urban poor—whether as your vocation or not

-      That your life would be changed by hearing and learning from God and other cultures

-      Multiply and enhance the good work being done by our partner agencies—not bringing harm or more work for them, but serving with mutual benefit to all

In this process, we also dream:

-      that you would become lifelong learners, who are able to listen for God’s voice and instruction in any place or situation

o       finding new insight about the nature of poverty and global urban realities through first-hand experiences and stories

o       with a greater understanding of the holistic gospel: seeing and hearing anew what is the GOOD NEWS in your life and in the world

-      that the Trek would plant seeds and create frameworks for long-term changes and actions in your life

-      that you would take new steps and risks in faithfulness and submission to God

-      that you would discover something new and beautiful about the God who loves you, who created you, who nurtures you, who challenges you, who KNOWS you—no matter where you go.

Patient Impatience

(adapted from a personal journal entry 4 years ago)

I often refer to myself as impatient.  What I fail to account for, however, is the paradoxical way in which mission also teaches patience alongside my antsiness.  You see, when you're an American working your way across the world's largest cities, you won't get far without patience.  I will wait for the metro, wait for meetings to assemble, wait for meals, wait for understanding of what's going on.  I will (eventually) patiently accept that God is in control and that I am a small part of God's gradual work in others' lives.  In mission, we are also humbled by God's patience with us: we see glimpses of God's love and hope for us, and yet how painstakingly slow is our response!

So yes, being a missionary is about my inability to sit still and my impatience to go to the margins and encounter Jesus among the 'least of these.'  But being a missionary, if pursued faithfully, is also about being still, sitting at the feet of my Savior.  It's about expecting and waiting and walking more slowly than I might choose.

In the end, I suppose we seek to follow Jesus with a selective sense of patience.  As with the prophets of old, there is no tolerance for evil, injustice, and oppression.  But in the grace of a wholly good God, we find (and emulate) infinite patience with the  human spirit.  A patience that engenders true simplicity and understanding, peace-making and trust.

Church Structures

A tip of the hat to Church of the Saviour in Washington, DC with some good thoughts from their people.

"We have never expected to hit upon that final stable structure.  This is important for a church to understand, for when it starts to be the church it will constantly be adventuring out into places where there are no tried and tested ways.  If the church in our day has few prophetic voices to sound above the noises of the street, perhaps in large part it is because the pioneering spirit has become foreign to it.  It shows little willingness to explore new ways.  Where it does it has often been called an experiment.  We would say that the church of Christ is never an experiment, but wherever that church is true to its mission it will be experimenting, pioneering, blazing new paths, seeking how to speak the reconciling word of God to its own age.  It cannot do this if it is held captive by the structures of another day or is slave to its own structures." 

(Elizabeth O'Connor, Call to Commitment)

"To be in the flow of God's ever evolving movement, we will transcend all traditional and institutional loyalties, including loyalties to the very institutions we ourselves brought into being.  We will adventure out into places where there are no tried and tested ways and be ready to experiment and pioneer and blaze new paths in order to make the news of our extravagantly loving, liberating, reconciling God real to this age."  -Gordon Cosby, Becoming the Authentic Church

People Get You Dirty

I have a visceral reaction when someone comes into physical contact with me and their mess rubs off.  I have distinct memories of times this has happened-- it sticks with me in that iconic, defining way that points to something more profound going on. 

A few years ago in Mexico City, a group of us visited a temporary shelter for families displaced by a mudslide.  The ministry we worked with had developed relationships with families in the shelter, so that several people rushed out to meet us.  One little girl wanted to show us to her house-- each family received their own space in a poorly constructed shed.  We followed her around a few corners into a dark room with a bed and 3 other children inside.  One was an infant, not more than two months old, heavily swaddled.  The little girl scooped up the baby and offered her to me.  I took her, rocked her, and held her while we prayed for the family-- both parents worked all day and this 9 year old was in charge of the rest of the kids.  It was as our faltering prayers finished up that I realized this baby's swaddling was soaked and soaking my own shirt as I held her to my chest.  I sighed; there was nothing to reverse the mess at that point.

A few months ago at a soup kitchen, I was talking with a man who, as we parted, patted me on the shoulder, leaving a trail of crud on my sweater.  Dried soup residue?  Last night's dinner?  I forced myself not to think about it, not to look or pick at it.  Instead, just wearing it.  Part of my day.

Last year I was waiting with a friend to cross a street in L.A. when a man approached us.  He knew her from the meals she served with the Catholic Workers nearby.  He rambled and made very little sense, but as we parted ways he reached to shake our hands.  His hands were crusty-- with weather, disease, dirt or all three, I don't know.  It took conscious effort to give him my hand, to come into contact, and THEN not to wipe it quickly on my jeans or hold it away in disgust.

This morning the devotional at a soup kitchen downtown was about the leper who came to Jesus and told him that he could make him clean, if he chose (Mark 1:40-45).  That is part of what got me thinking about how I am affected by the physical mess of humans, not to mention the spiritual and emotional messes!  (That's a whole 'nother blog post, I'm thinking.)  Yet, I rarely stop to consider: is this an opportunity for cleanness?  - for healing?  -for hope?  I've tended to think that it's a big step simply to be okay with getting dirty.  But what if my focus shifted from the mess I'm allowing and not being threatened by... to the real point apart from the dirt, slime, or crusty crumbles?

The truth is, we're all messy, and our messes get shared and oozed, whether we want them to or not.  But the truth is also that Jesus indignantly reaches out, touches us, and says, "Be clean!"

"Missional" for Mothers (and everyone)

I opened up the latest InterVarsity alumni update and had the inclination to click just one of the articles. Turns out the featured woman is a fellow Williams alum! One of those "coincidences" that brings me a warm, fuzzy, it's-a-small-world-after-all happiness. Not only do I have a shared alma mater with this woman, but she has some solid thoughts on what it means to be true to God's calling and mission, no matter what your profession or stage of life. Her focus is motherhood, but the topic applies widely. Read on:
InterVarsity Alumni - Helen Lee - News - InterVarsity.org

"Courage to be imperfect"

It turns out that those who live vulnerably also live the most wholeheartedly.  Check out this TED talk by Brene Brown.  Among other great points, she hits on the dangerous cycle of numbing ourselves to feelings and how we're wired for struggle but always worthy of love and belonging.  To feel vulnerable is to be alive, she concludes.  Her presentation is deep and entertaining.

From Mexico City Meetings

Once again, I'm back in the enormous city where I started learning how good God was when you look for him at the margins.  I first came in 2005, and I've lost count of how many times I've been back.  Six?  Seven?

I'm here with other Trek directors for time in prayer, meetings and preparation to take students into 5 different cities' slums this summer.  Mexico City, Lima, Kolkata, Manila, and Bangkok.  (I've got Lima, by the way.)  It's refreshing to remember our common vision together, supporting the crazy work that we're all digging into. 

Current statistics show that 1 million people move into or are born in cities each week around the world.

We believe that God is raising up flesh and blood followers of Jesus to incarnate the gospel among the urban poor.  We on the Trek want to help students see the truth that Jesus often calls us into difficult situations, hardship, and suffering.  But when God does that, it's not out of punishment or guilt-- it's because this is the most beautiful adventure imaginable for our lives.  We don't want students responding because they think it's some weighty demand from the Creator of the universe, but because it's an invitation to a life that we wouldn't imagine on our own, a life of deep love from our Father who cherishes every one of his children.

We wrestled today with a desire to not only EXPOSE students to something new and impactful in their Trek city, but to develop their CHARACTER, to give them the tools and grounding to see God truly and to recognize his voice.  In sum, what do we (and our students) need to believe about God in order to enable us to say yes to follow Jesus into the slums and there to discover a life that is beautiful, significant, and adventurous?

I rejoice that this is what meetings are about in my line of work.  This is what prayers are about.  This is what my life can be about.  May it be beautiful, significant, adventurous.

G.O.S.P.E.L.

Take a look and a listen.

G.O.S.P.E.L. from Humble Beast Records on Vimeo.

When there is so much more to say

The problem is, I often fail to say it.

Life these past weeks has been very full, and so much more than Sunday school classes and homework assignments.  Sorry, that was easier to jet straight onto the blog, though!  I hardly know how to capture the other things.

If two months ago you had shown me a snapshot of my personal life today, I think I would have told you to quit making things up.  =)  My roommates and I have grown closer, and we've had a few successful attempts at sharing our home and food -- and we hosted a clothing swap that was a blast!  I'm dating a man who supports, stretches and nurtures every aspect of my life, especially the part having to do with my relationship with God.  (Sorry if you haven't heard in person; dispersed technology makes privacy and disclosure a bit tricky.)  Whenever I'm shocked by all this goodness, I remind myself that it's not like I haven't been praying for these things, and it's not like our Father doesn't give GOOD GIFTS!

Ministry is also dynamic these days.  I love the freedom to pivot and focus on certain things in a given time-- it keeps me on my toes and invites constant discernment.  Right now, the big things in my sights are developing financial partners for ongoing ministry and preparing for the Global Urban Trek in June and July.  I'll be returning to Lima, Peru to direct the Trek, and so these next few weeks are full of accepting students who've applied, lining up host families, and coordinating details with partners in Lima.  During this year, I have become fairly established in San Diego, deepening my familiarity with people and places here.  It's been more difficult to hold that rootedness in a place in tension with my heart for the world, and particularly with my love for the city of Lima.  Yet, my trip there last week reminded me of the joy of stewarding others in distant places, of seeing God's restoration at work, and of bringing people home not just geographically, but spiritually.  Not a moment too soon, God jump-started my dreaming for the Trek this summer, and I am already amazed at how he has provided for it.  It is so exciting-- definitely an experience already of redemption from years that were more difficult.

I was looking forward to Lent this year, largely because I enjoyed it so much last year.  Yet, this morning I woke up and realized that sometimes I've even forgotten about it being Lent.  Partly that comes out of so many things shifting and in motion in my life (with sometimes it being me, literally, in motion)-- whereas last year I felt stilled, in a place of learning and waiting.  I also feel more distinctly the tiredness that falls on so many church people (church workers) leading up to Easter, "the big event," so to speak.  "After Easter" becomes a common time designator, with a sigh.  As for me, I am happily anticipating Easter.  I can't believe Holy Week is upon us.  Aaagh, I would love to reflect on that, too!  There is so much more to say!

All in good time.

Homework: Justice

“Justice is always about what one owns.”  (John Perkins)   

Consider your responsibility before God for what you have.  How does God view the gifts he has given you?  How can you share those gifts with others?  This week, give away something you love, volunteer in a new capacity, tutor a difficult child, etc.

Homework: Witness & Work

Finally, caught up to real-life speed.  =)  This was from yesterday's class.

How do you contribute to the flourishing of others and yourself?  Adopt a daily or weekly practice (such as Sabbath, prayer, acts of service, or Bible study with co-workers/ others in your field) that speaks to your allegiance to an “alternate city,” where you work for God’s glory and rest in God’s grace.  Plan to maintain this discipline for at least a month.

Homework: Community

This week is about people being the people of God TOGETHER.  Our witness is not alone, but collective.

Listen to someone this week.  Listen to the story of their life, their faith, or even their bad day.  Practice not speaking, instead drawing near to God with this person.

AND/ OR

Ask for help this week.  Rely on somebody else in your community for a ride, a cup of sugar, advice, childcare, car repair, serving a meal together—be creative!

Homework: Your Heart Condition

Write a letter to God.  Describe honestly where you often find your identity.  (If it’s helpful, you could identify with a prodigal son, a pharisee, or any other characters that come to mind.)  Who are you?  What makes you important? 

 Tell God what happens when you forget the gospel (good news that you are chosen, welcomed, beloved).   

When you remember it again, how does your behavior change?   

What scripture passage(s) can serve to remind you?   

Consider sharing this activity with a close friend and praying together for Jesus to replace any idols that say more to you and your identity more than God does.

Plenty and Want

I started noticing a pattern.  I've abruptly come to expect that alongside places of abundance come people in need.  I'll be more specific.

It no longer surprises me to be approached and asked for money outside the grocery store or market where I live.  I don't know if this is a standard thing, a local one, or if I just have a magnet for this particular experience.  In particular, the past few weeks there's almost a guarantee that as I walk out of the super- or mini-market of my choosing, someone weaving across the parking lot or the sidewalk will catch my eye.  And I'll know what's coming. 

"Ma'am, do you have 86 cents? I just need bus fare."

"Hi there.  I got three kids in my car broken down by the church over there and I need help getting them on the bus to get home."

"I'm not homeless or anything, I just don't have money on me right now, could you help me out?"

"My #%$$^ car died on me again-- it's the carburator, I know-- and I'm wondering if you have some spare money?"

Let's be clear here.  I've often just walked to the market.  And I usually come out with one, maybe two, bags of simple foods.  Some milk, pasta, fruits, vegetables.  I guess I just look kind.  Or gullible.  Or something.  Yes, sometimes I give.  Sometimes I regret it.  Sometimes I say no.  Sometimes I regret that, too.  Almost always, the pieces of their story become clearer to me as I mull them over and walk away.  Very often, I think of another way it would have been good for me to help, to extend mercy.  I mean really, I do have jumper cables and know how to use them.  What if I had offered that to the mom and her kids instead of bus fare?  

It's not so much the "what ifs" that concern me, though.  Those will always be there, and I hope I'll always be learning and listening more closely for ways to respond to my brothers and sisters who approach me, wherever it may be.  What digs under my skin is the tableau of plenty and want mixing and merging in a simple parking lot.  A building filled with stuff, people with means to buy stuff, and people who are hoping to find some kind of help (or stuff) by drifting in that intersection.  But not just any stuff-- at the market, the stuff in question is food, the great leveler.  We all need it.  In sharing food we share something more than calories.  And in seeking food we seek to quell more than stomach pangs.  Food mediates fellowship.

I've written before about the power of table fellowship-- sitting around, sharing a meal.  Now I begin to think about the fellowship of gathering and seeking food and the unequal footing of the marketplace.  Bumping into abundance, comes need.  Assaulting my comfort and confidence comes the question, "Can you spare...?"

Homework: Shalom of the City

Take a walk, either around your own home or on the blocks around your church's building.  Where do you see ‘redemptive potential’ for this city?  Where and how do you see evidence of people looking for help or protection?  For justice?  For creativity or leadership?  For spiritual nourishment?  Where do you see people finding these things?

Homework for Gospel in Life

Confession: yes, I am doling out a slew of entries that should have been done a while ago and I wanted to say a few things about these "Homework" posts. 

At First Presbyterian (San Diego), where I've been worshiping this past year, a few of us are team-teaching a class using some Tim Keller materials (he's fantastic; pastor at Redeemer Presbyterian in NYC).  We wanted to be clear that these aren't just nice things to think about-- when the good news intersects our lives, we change.  Our standard practices and procedures change.  Sometimes we need a little help with that shift, and we need it to be concrete. 

With that conviction, I worked through the lessons and themes of Keller's material and came up with homework assignments for each week's class.  I'll dole them out here, for good thinking and prompting of gospel-motivated action in your life, wherever you are.  Please realize that the bent of each assignment is geared to flow out of Bible study, discussion and video clips... but I think they stand on their own as well.  We'll see, right?!  Please offer feedback-- may these challenges be motivation and blessing to live more and more fully in the promises of our Father.

Real Life, This Week for Me!

Every so often, it seems handy to give you a sense of what I do in a week, so here goes!

-Study Acts 5: changing early Christian community, release from prison, angels, teaching the gospel in the temple
   -reflecting: what puts me (us) in prison?  where do I need to heed God's release to go back out and "tell the people the whole message about this life"?

-Email marathon.  Good staff and student developments in the Lima Global Urban Trek.  Networking and keeping up with people around the city, country and globe.

-Prayer meeting to support the work of a local public charter school that seeks to open in Fall 2011. 

- Planning and leading community group at San Diego City College.  Low (late) turnout this week, seeking what students really need to grow as adults and disciples of Jesus.

-Reading and preparation to teach a couple of classes on poverty and the whole gospel.  Here's a link to listen to the initial session-- my turn comes in a few weeks!

-Staff meetings with Geoff and other CRM'ers in San Diego.

-Re-connecting with a friend, discussing financial support.

-Introduced some fellow ministry pals over lunch, then we prayed over the city from the Pt. Loma lighthouse together.

-Coordination to team-teach a class using Tim Keller material on city transformation.


For those who keep me accountable for having fun: I also rode a horse, drove stickshift, explored the natural history museum, had a delicious butternut squash soup dinner with roommates, and saw my spiritual director this week!  GOOD things!

Real Life, Leading to Lent

Taken from The Liturgical Year, by Joan Chittister:  (emphasis added)

"The world around us tells us that life is about money, security, power, and success.  Yet the Gospels tell us that life is about something completely other.  Real life, the Gospels tell us, is about doing the will of God, speaking for the poor, changing the lives of widows and orphans, exalting the status of women, refusing to make war, laying down our lives for the other, the invisible, and the enemy.  It is about taking everyone in instead of leaving anyone out.  When we learn that, after years of being steeped in the lessons of one liturgical year after another, then life changes for everyone.  The fruit of contemplation is oneness with the world."

"Self-indulgence, the preening of the self for the sake of the self, blocks out the cries of the rest of the world, makes us deaf to anything beyond ourselves.  The starving continue to starve while the self-indulgent feast and, full of the good things they have wrested from life, think they have done a good thing...
"Self-centeredness makes us the center of the universe.  The notion that all things were made for our comfort and our control robs those around us of their own gifts.  It absorbs the gifts of others; it smothers them under our own; it blinds us to both their needs and their gifts....
"[In asceticism] We become aware of what is necessary in life, rather than wasting all life's energies on what is at most cosmetic.  We gain the kind of consciousness that is lost in the fog of alcohol or gluttony, agitated by lust, consumed by greed.  We learn the greatest gift of all-- freedom from the demands of the self for the good of the flowering of the spirit.
"It is these things that the great fast, Lent, comes to give us so that, rather than being persuaded and distracted by the things of the world around us, we can learn to keep our inner eye on the world to come.  The asceticism of Lent comes to train us, like spiritual athletes, to keep our eyes, with Jesus, on the road to Jerusalem.  Then, perhaps, we will come, like Jesus, to see the sick and the lame, the outcast and the foreigner in our own world and bend to heal them, stop to listen to them, reach out to raise them from the dead edges of society to new life."

When God Gives a Journey

Looking up at tallllllll trees in Muir Woods.

Most of January, I looked a few weeks out and thought, yeah, I might do an overnight retreat then.  The days would pass, the week would come, and I would find something else that felt more appealing.  This was no big, dramatic plan (or failure to plan); I just knew that I wanted to take some time with the Lord to gain some perspective on the work and life that chugs along these days.  Granted, I did take one day of extended prayer and reading at Prince of Peace monastery, but my soul was still hungry for more.

Even so, I wasn't finding much motivation to go off and be alone-- even as an introvert who likes silence!  Much of my time is spent in intervals of solitude: my own room, my own schedule, my own set of tasks and appointments.  You could say I was kind of holding out on God, as if you say, "YOU make it happen!"

When a friend mentioned she'd be driving up to San Francisco, something in my mind/ heart/ spirit snapped to attention.  "Wait, San Francisco?  Do you need someone to go with you?  When are you going?"

My calendar was open.  I hemmed and hawed.  I contacted one friend in San Fran, and then another.  People were available.  They could give me a place to stay.  My calendar stayed open.  I found a cheap return flight.  More possibilities of connecting with people surfaced, including reuniting with a college friend I hadn't seen in 5 years.  I decided to go for it.

When God gives a journey, he makes it beautiful and bountiful.

We left at 5 am and drove north, just beating LA's rush hour, diving from the Grapevine's serpentine path into the gusty San Joaquin valley.  My friend napped some, and I prayed with a vengeance as gigantic tumbleweeds bounced toward me.  We had wonderful conversation and music, good questions and the kind of deepening companionship that so often comes on the road.

Some of them really were this big.  Yikes!

She found me a BART station in the East Bay area and I started the next leg of my journey: across the bay to San Francisco!  I found my friends' studio apartment in the Mission district, where they hang out with current and former gang members and kids in juvenile hall as part of InnerCHANGE.

We walked around the neighborhood a good bit in my 3 days there, I saw a secret garden and mural alley, ate a slice of Mission Pie (yummm) and an organic ice cream cone.  I spent time with women and infants, and I made crafts and said prayers.  I joined the group studying "The Story of God" and I watched Avatar while gang members snored (loudly).  I went to sleep and I woke up, and God was all over it.  I walked among redwoods (photo up top) and walked through the Tenderloin.  Prayer, laughter, and deep speaking to deep.

While it feels impossible to fully convey the resplendent moments from those days, I savor them with wonder.  I see God's creation and provision of people, community, and love-- all tailored for me!  Whether talking about things holy or profane, the power of connection struck home (perhaps even more accurately, CREATED home) for me last week.  I caught my flight to Los Angeles, and talked a lot about faith, God and Jesus with a man en route.  He was working on making me a vegan, for his part.  I joined more friends for a CCDA event in L.A.  I saw churches sending and mobilizing their people into communities, and I remembered God's work of joining his people together into one.

In coming out of last week, it seems obvious for me to proclaim how good and generous is our God.  Even as I watched the see-sawing headlines about Egypt day after day, even as I held the infant of a "hard-core" gang youth, even as we checked a van for damage and robbery, I was clear on God's presence and God's love.  People did for me what silence could not-- they served as witnesses and signs, as foretastes of the kingdom coming in all its holy messiness, grit, connectedness, affection, humor, and love.  When God gives a journey, take him up on it.

"The View from the Ditch"

Excerpt from a sermon by Richard Lischer, at Duke University, reflecting on Martin Luther King, Jr.'s preaching on the Luke 10 story of the Good Samaritan.  Find the full sermon (transcript or audio) here.

In this telling of the story, the question is not, “Are you willing to stop and help?” but, “Are you ready to be rescued?” When Jesus first told the story, his hearers would have identified not with the helper but with the helpee, the man in the ditch. It’s the ordinary Jewish layperson on an ordinary little trip who winds up in the ditch. Thus Jesus is saying, “It’s somebody like you --why, it is you -- you are the man or the woman in the ditch. You are the church in the ditch, the nation in the ditch.” Are you willing to concede that the example of people unlike you may prove redemptive for you? From whom are you willing to accept help? From whom are you willing to learn?

At this point in our history, you could say we’ve tried a lot of salvations. We’ve tried unbridled expressions of rage, we’ve tried conspiratorial theories, we’ve tried rights without responsibilities, we’ve taken refuge in guns -- and we are not saved.

To whom shall we turn? Are there any other options out there? In his day, King made a controversial proposal. On the basis of Jesus’ life, ministry and death on a cross, he suggested that we try to love one another. It’s hard to imagine how the idea of love could be controversial, especially coming from a preacher. But he made it very controversial, because he took love out from under the canopy of the pulpit, where it’s the safe, expected word, and injected it into the realm of social conflict and public policy. He was forever speaking about love in all the “wrong” places: on highways, in pool halls, city halls, fire-bombed churches, even in Page Auditorium (in a university that for all practical purposes was still segregated). When he might have been talking about revenge or strategy, he spoke of reconciliation.

If you think love is only a smoochy feeling that comes with buttered popcorn, King’s use of the word will set your teeth on edge. If you believe love belongs only in private relationships, like romance or friendship, King’s use of it is unsettling. We’re tempted to say that love has no place in a violent world like ours, forgetting that the love of God in Jesus crashed into the political process and submitted to its rough justice. Jesus got himself crucified in a world like ours.

So if we find ourselves reaching up for a helping hand or a better idea this week, the “Samaritan option” is something to consider.

The story of the Good Samaritan is really two separate stories. Viewed from the road, it’s a story of encouragement to reach out to those who are lost and hurting, the way King did in Memphis, the way Jesus did throughout his ministry, the way we do in our better moments.

But this same story, when viewed from the ditch, where all of us have been at one time or another, takes on a different character. It asks an even more profound question: “Despite your own privileged education, your wealth, or your power -- do you understand how God might be using someone or something you never imagined to teach you and make you new?”

Part of the Problem with Blogging about Life...

is captured well by my friend Jason Evans here.

I too have been spending time at the temporary winter shelter at our church for the past month.  And I haven't written about it, even though there are certainly reasons I should have.  You would love to know that my church here took a risk and plunged into service to "the least of these" brothers and sisters: men and women who've been making a life on the streets.  You would get a kick out of some of our conversations and you would be touched by the stories we share and you would be irritated by people's quirks.  That's all part of the experience, but I feel rather strongly that I don't always have the privilege of putting other people's stories on display.  As Jason writes, "this isn't simply a project; it is the names and faces of those that are our guests"-- and I would add, those that are our friends.

However, I can (and should) tell you the details of the project.  For 6 weeks, First Presbyterian Church of San Diego has provided space and supervision for 8-12 guests to sleep each night.  Individuals who had contact with the church and its other outreach ministries applied and were accepted for the duration of the program, so that it's the same little group that has become a family of sorts, night by night.  Each guest puts up and takes down his or her air mattress bed each night, and volunteers from churches around the city take shifts-- hanging out and sharing food in the evenings, cleaning up and clearing the room in the mornings.  This was prompted by conviction about our responsibility as a downtown faith community, in the face of uncertainty about whether the city would provide space for a larger shelter during the damp winter months.  There was a protracted process that culminated in setting up a large tent for housing-- I hear it's a pretty awful place to stay.  I should add that it wasn't easy for the church to make this decision, either.  It was a risk, and not everyone felt we were up to the task.

The question that may be lingering for you now might be "Well, is it working?"  I don't know.  We've lost a couple of the original guests, which was probably bound to happen.  If they miss two nights, they are no longer eligible for the shelter.  One couple sings in the church choir every Sunday morning.  Each person is really quite endearing, but that doesn't mean there's a clear path to anything remotely close to "fixing" his or her life. People are stubborn and people have problems.  People try hard and people have lots of potential.  All of this is true of you and me, and it's true of the guests at First Pres.  We've got a few more weeks; I'll post some more thoughts along the way.

Now that I've blogged and pondered, I suppose that what I'm trying to say is that I'm navigating what I want to say, what has meaning, and what needs to be shared.  The people person that I am just wants to plunge into the stories.  And never fear, I still believe there are stories to be told!  Sometimes, though, I think I need to take a step back and wait a moment to choose a lens that is honorable and just and true and worthy of praise.  I'm learning as I go.

"Missional Community"

Some clarifying words:
"The church is not sent on a mission by God, rather God is on a mission and the church is called to join him. This is an important distinction, as much of what the church is about is trying to do stuff for God instead of letting Him do stuff through us. The mission is not the church’s—it is the Missio Dei, or “mission of God” that we are called to be part of. From Genesis to Revelation God is seen clearly on a pursuit to redeem humankind from the bondage of sin and death. The pursuit of this mission must take us beyond the walls of our church buildings out into the places where people live and work."
"A missional community is the spiritual family that has the Missio Dei in its DNA."

Read more of Neil Cole's article here.

Bribe, Trade, Opportunity

Last week I squeezed an additional, curious task into my routine of frequent meetings in local coffee shops.  I hung some posters.

Yeah, it's not all that extraordinary.  A nearby San Diego theatre had sent out an email with the tantalizing offer of free tickets to a play if you hung up posters.  Um, sure, I thought!  After all, I go to (or near) lots of prime places every week.  I replied to the marketing rep and got the scoop.  10 posters.  List your locations of choice.  Provide photographic evidence.  Pick your play and performance time.

I did a quick mental calculation, to make sure that the time it took would not exceed the cost of paying cash money for tickets.  I was definitely in the black.  However,  the possibility of side benefits didn't even cross my mind.  You see, as I tromped in and out of coffee shops, ice cream parlors and a token pub, I got to be the instigator of conversation.  "Would you mind if I hang a poster about an upcoming play?"

"What play?" 
"Where?" 
"Are you an actor?" 
"I LOVE theatre, you know!  It's like my life!" 
"They used to offer us free tickets sometimes."
"It's nice to meet you!"
"Let us know about the next one, too, okay?"

When I downloaded the photos from my camera to prove that the mission was accomplished, my chest welled with joy-- not just for being frugal or earning myself a classy evening, but for having encountered new people in the city.  Maybe it's from growing up in a small town, but apparently something in me warms to knowing people (is it in everyone?  I think not, for the millions who at least claim to crave anonymity in places like Manhattan.).  I post about it because I was struck by yet another way of knowing a place.  Not something I ever read about in community development strategies, but an "in" and an excuse for random interaction.  Sure, not everyone was helpful or willing, but most were.  As I tallied up my posted posters, it made a new kind of map-- a map of requests and transactions without money.  A map of learning a place through a completely different lens.

Without a moment's hesitation, I will do this again.  Who would have guessed that I would get to know shops and sidewalks around town in order to see classic theater for FREE?  An all-around win!

Approaching the Night

reposted from Paulo Coelho's blog: http://paulocoelhoblog.com 

San Francisco, United States

I walk through a park with my former American editor, John Loudon, and his wife, Sharon. We can see the city of San Francisco in the distance, illuminated by the setting sun.
Sharon wrote a book about a Benedictine monastery, and tells us that the afternoon prayers, called vespers, are songs of faith in the certainty that the night will pass.

- The vespers indicate the necessity we have to be near others at nightfall – she says. – But our society has forgotten the importance of this nearness, and pretends to greatly prize each person’s ability to deal with his own difficulties. We no longer pray together; we hide our solitude as if we were afraid to admit it exists.

Sharon pauses, before adding:

- I was like that once. Until one day I lost my fear of depending on my neighbor, because I discovered that he too needed me.

Coaching, with Trust

I spent the weekend in a training workshop on coaching as a ministry skill.  With a community of other missionaries here in San Diego, we practiced listening well, developing powerful questions, and helping people discover what they need to do to fully live out God's calling.  It was refreshing because honestly, it feels like many of the things we do in ministry are based on gifts, talents, and hunches we follow.  That makes certain people the "good" ones, the wise ones, the ones who can fix your problem for you.  In contrast, as our roomful of people practiced coaching one another on real-life situations, I never worried that oh, I might get a "dud" coach.  It was pretty straightforward.  The coach followed the rules and asked the suggested types of questions, and the "coachee" almost always uncovered new insights and ways of thinking about things.  It's not that there's a 'magic bullet' skill involved-- rather, there is a dramatic effect when we act as though we truly believe that God wants to speak and reveal himself to his children, and the coach merely facilitates that happening.

Seeing it work for myself was obvious reassurance, but I think I also needed the workshop's reminder about trusting the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that it's OUR words, wisdom, and brilliant insights that change others' lives.  It's because we told them that they're talented or because we corrected their mistake that they moved forward, right?  It's because we said all the right things at exactly the right time.  Oh but no!  Where's the faith in that?  Where's our humility as servants?  We still guide people compassionately and carefully, but we do not coach as experts and super-stars.  And that is a relief.

"I praise God for what he has promised.  I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?"  (Psalm 56:4)

One Year!

January 4, 2010: moved into a foreclosed house for a month.  Within 2 weeks, found another place to live.  Attended CRM staff training.  Moved into a new house with 3 fascinating roommates.  Started meeting people and attending conferences.  Started praying with people.  Kept walking around the neighborhood.  Learned my way around town.  Saw the desert in bloom.  Wore a couple of bridesmaid dresses.  Travel: Mexico City, Malaysia, Hong Kong, Cambodia, Los Angeles, Chicago, Baltimore/ Philadelphia.  Planes and trains.  Potlucks and meetings.  Walks and talks.  Streets and alleys of friends and strangers.  I was host and guest, learner and teacher, server and recipient.

January 4, 2011: a new year is just beginning!  May this one bring even a few more sights, smells, and little tastes of the Kingdom of God.