Monthly Archive for September, 2007

Eruptions

Published
by
Rod White
on September 28, 2007
in Action, Community, Dialogue, Family and Planning
. 1 Comment

Yesterday I was telling Dave about my sudden amazement. I realized that I had witnessed, in the previous two days, a series of eruptions of leadership among the Circle of Hope. It is just what we had imagined and prayed for God to do!

I suppose you are following developments. We like reaching more people, and we are doing that. We like being one church with two and soon-to-be more locations, and we are refining how to be that. We like proliferating cells, mission teams, businesses, compassionate service, artistic endeavors, etc., and we are learning how to encourage and maintain all that. We have buildings and budgets and staff and stuff to provide the needed tools to do what we do and become what God has slated us to be; and we are learning how to keep everything all knit together in love.

Becoming more of who we are requires a whole new group of leaders to step up and lead the teams that keep us going. Alongside the further cell leaders and pastors and coordinators, we need further leaders who keep things going, like the finances, buildings, technology, and staff. For us, it is always church planting, compassion and, more than ever: capacity.

In a few days, the Coordinators will provide their cell leaders with a form to use when they lead the annual discussion in their cells about where we see God taking us as a church. I keep praying for each time of dialogue, whether it is fifteen minutes or two hours, to be another small eruption of vision, passion and determination. I pray that God’s Spirit moves in us until an authentic vision for being his people in 2008 in Philly emerges with clarity and fills us with hope.

When the input is gathered, the Coordinators will form the discernment group. They will hold further meetings for open dialogue and steer us toward a refreshed sense of direction.

I know, we are not even close to being done with 2007, yet! The whole “yearly” thing is kind of arbitrary — God is not following our seasons, particularly. But God is working through us, and we have a rhythm about our year. We need to get dirty, plant, sweat and build things to be true to our dusty origin. Lately, I feel like God has been breathing life into us, even more! — stirring up eruptions of faith, hope and love.

Christianese, Economics, and Context

Published
by
admin
on September 26, 2007
in Community, Dialogue, Family and Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

By: Alison N.

Last week I had an interesting conversation with a co-worker (for those who don’t know, I am a social worker and a therapist for a child welfare agency). My co-worker, Amy, was telling me about how she has been sending out resumes in France and is thinking about moving there. Amy grew up in a missionary family and spent her high school years in France, where her family still lives. I asked about her reasons for wanting to move back, and Amy commented that she hasn’t really been happy here for a while, and that she can’t figure out how to be a Christian in America. I thought this was very interesting (maybe partly because I’ve never tried to be a Christian anywhere else, so this concept never occurred to me), and asked her to say more.

She went on to talk about how she grew up in places where the distinction between Christians and others, or “non-Christians”, was very clear. She lived in places in Africa where Christians were very much in the minority and were sometimes persecuted to various degrees. And then in France, where it’s not as culturally common to self-identify as Christian, and she found “living her Christian walk” to be a simpler, more clear-cut endeavor. She described her confusion and frustration over Christianity in America—a Christianity that she sees as being very divisive and superficial. She talked about knowing people here who use lots of Christianese—the God-blesses and the Praise-the-Lords—but in whose lives she fails to see God reflected. She elaborated about this a bit more before looking at me and asking, “So what do you think?”

This caught me a bit off guard and I wasn’t really sure what to say. This may be, in some ways, because there’s also a part of me that craves for circumstances in which living out of my faith is, even if not easy, very simple and clear. I too can feel bogged down by how to live my life, participating in our society as I currently choose to do, and genuinely follow Jesus. How do I serve God and others with my money AND pay my mortgage, student loans, and, admittedly, sometimes buy shoes? How do I serve God and others with my time AND work full time, go to school (thank God a thing of the past!), and work on my house? I don’t know if I’m getting any of this right! Working these things out can be daunting and complicated—certainly for me, at least. But as I thought about it more over the past week or so, I began to realize that this is why community is so important. This is hard! We need each other to challenge, support, and love each other…to mutually care about living this life together, to reconciling with each other and our neighbors, to seeking justice for our communities. I wouldn’t want to try to do it without you—and it’s good to be reminded of that.

Crack Open Our Caskets!

Published
by
sarah mueller
on September 24, 2007
in Community, Dialogue and Family
. 3 Comments

Good day, my dear family and friends: I pray you be well wherever you find yourself geographically, spiritually, or emotionally this day.

My friend, I, perhaps much like you, ultimately and simply, desire to love well and be loved well as much as any of us could know it on this earth. I stand by the belief at the root of all our problems we face on this space we inhabit is the fact that we don’t or can’t do exactly that. Sometimes with all of the overwhelming sadness, hopelessness, and heartache I hear in the stories of poor relating to one another about families, friendships, romances, brotherly kinship gone sour: I feel like that ideal cannot exist. That God is the only one who can love purely and perfectly: so why bother trying. Right?

 In a passage from C.S. Lewis’ ‘The Four Loves’, he states:

            “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung, and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries, avoid all entanglements, lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness…”

 Good call, Mr. Lewis: No one should be trusted with my heart and no one should have the privilege of experiencing the love I have to offer just so they can mess it all up.

(of course, this is laden with sarcasm…)

 He goes on to further state:

            “…But in that casket-safe, dark, motionless, airless-it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, and irredeemable…”

 yikes, man.

 Just as I am so contently clenching onto that knapsack in which I keep all the love I have chosen to bottle up something trips me and throws my cynicism off its rocker: I meet couples who have been married for 50+ years, happily and healthy, not without trials but have stood the test of time with each other. I catch the conversation of old men sitting under trees in chairs with friends they have grown old with: still bickering over ordinary things but nonetheless sharing in laughter. I hear of hearts melted and of people sharing in meals with neighbors, with whom there has been years of petty grudges set aside, breaking bread and just loving on each other.

 It seems to me that our eyes can be so easily tricked into seeing only the ugly so as to discourage us from trying to love harder and better beyond ourselves like Jesus who sacrificed his own for such a profound cause.

 In the remainder of this encouraging, and extremely hard to read essay, Mr Lewis concludes:

            “Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly beloveds whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the          sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it.”

 When it comes down to it, I do so deeply desire (most days) to love in such a way, even if it takes the remainder of my days and beyond to figure out what that exactly that looks like.

As it says in 1 Corinthians 13:12,

             “…faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love”

 May we have faith in Christ’s love-style, hope in His pure and perfect nature, and love to give freely to everyone who is brought into our path.

Friends, I offer up this prayer for us today that it may be an encouragement to us all:

 God, today, rattle down our head-spaces to be open to your Peace. Break our hearts to that unhindered Love that you so graciously gave to us through Jesus. Enable our heart-hands to reach out to our every brother and sister, who like ourselves is worthy of that Perfect Love. Give us the strength to keep trying…again and again and again and again…Amen.

…when I was least comfortable

Published
by
Greg Landis
on September 21, 2007
in Community, Dialogue and Family
. 1 Comment

I remember not so long ago, about a year actually, reading a couple books and being entirely convinced I should to move to Kensington.  I had romantic ideals of living in a run down rent-a-room house and learning how life goes for people who didn’t grow up in the bubble of Lancaster County.  It came out of the realization that throughout my life I had felt most like a Christian when I was least comfortable.  I have been stationed in one of the most affluent countries of the planet and grew up in one of the richest parts of this country.  My ancestors consist of generations of hard-working Mennonite farmers who have consistently tried to follow Jesus while leading a honest life.  I feel blessed to be set up with this position in life, but it also makes me feel a little guilty - like something isn’t quite right.
            My move to Kensington was not purely idealism.  I had been living in South Philly and commuting not only to work and school but also to circle east.  Ok, and I had also started dating a girl who lived up there, so the move made sense logistically as well.  I think my guilt, this feeling that something isn’t quite right with my situation, was a large factor though.   I don’t like to see disparity between people and when I see it I want to understand it.
        Thinking about disparity reminds me of when I lived in rural southern Mexico.  I met lots of people just like me there.  The friends I made there are just like my friends here:  young dudes, trying to figure out what they want from life, trying to figure out what they can give to the world.  The crazy thing is that we are not given the same opportunities in life.  I remember one friend in particular, Eder.  He had to leave his hometown in order to go to high school.  It was so important to him, but his family had to scrimp and save in order to send him.  Are you kidding?  I drove myself 3 miles to high school for free.  Even my college education is mostly paid for.  Eder went on to study medicine and is now a medic (not quite a doctor, but more than a nurse.)  Eder is an exception – many more of my friends have left their families to come here and work.  This only makes sense because they watch TV and see the rest of North America living it up.  Imagine watching “MTV cribs” in an adobe hut without running water…it baffles the senses.                          

            Why?   This is my perpetual question.  Why does the world work like this?  I don’t know.  But the world does seem to give much to some and not much to others.  My perpetual problem is what do I do with what I have been given?  What is my answer?  Another question:  Where is Jesus leading me?                                                                       

            I don’ t know if I can claim that I finally moved to a place where people have bigger and more important problems than mine.  I don’t think that surrounding yourself with others’ problems is a very healthy way to deal with the guilt that comes from having opportunity that others don’t have.  I do think that Jesus is leading me to use my opportunities to bless other people.  It’s kind of like a paradox that my friend Jonny spoke about once:  What do we Christians do with power?  We use it to empower others.  Acknowledging that others have less than I is a good first step.  Feeling guilty is a natural second one.  Working through that guilt is a good third one.    Resisting the temptation to protect my power is essential (and difficult).  Jesus works across these boundaries, however paralyzing they may seem.  A lot of situations require opportunity to be used with wisdom and tact.  We are called to follow Jesus across these boundaries of privilege. We are called to be Jesus to the world.  Thanks for following and being Jesus with me.

Arise and Eat

Published
by
Scott Sorrentino
on September 17, 2007
in Community, Dialogue and Family
. 2 Comments

We’re in the second full week of school in Trenton, where I teach high school.  It is good to be back at work.   It is hard to be back at work, after having the summer off,  but good.

Being a teacher, I am much envied by others who work all year round.  I hear it all the time: what did you with your summer?  My father is the worst.  He thinks it is criminal for an adult to simply not work, or do much of anything, for two months out of the year.  He tells me this all the time.  Friends, be glad for your year-round work.

Sure I guess there are advantages to be had, money that could be made.  I nearly always start the summer with big plans to get a lot done.  Inevitably, I am thrown off track, I don’t get things done, and eventually I abandon all structure.  This was a stand-out year for underachievement.   I stayed around the house with the kids while Kate worked two jobs.

 August brings more bad feelings.  Going back to work usually makes we fear the unknown: what will my new schedule be like?  What will I be teaching?  And it also brings feelings of inadequacy:  Another wasted summer. Not feeling ready.

 This year I am reassured.  Work has started, even more chaotically than usual.  The students have no schedules.  We hold them in the gym all day.  I don’t know what classes I’m teaching.  My supplies are not in.  God says “Arise and eat.”

 Like Elijah ending his fast (1 Kings 19) with baked loaves and water that simple appear from nowhere, I’m waking up to do whatever mundane thing is prepared for me to do.  I’m ending my fast from diligence and achievement.  It’s a difficult adjustment, but the voice that guides me is gentle.  It says the journey is hard, and I need the confidence gained in small, routine achievements. Fasts are good and so are feasts.  Most of life are the small meals between, the routine tasks that move us along, and the attendant prayer: give me my bread for today.  Give me my thing to do. 

scarcity and abundance

Published
by
Joshua Grace
on September 14, 2007
in Action, Community, Dialogue, Family, Friends Projects and Peace
. 0 Comments

I’ve been trying to let God inform my worldview as I follow Jesus.  Lately I’ve been realizing how much I have lived out of a paradigm of scarcity rather than abundance.  The way that I generally have managed life-be it economics, time, relationships-I have learned from our culture that I don’t have enough and there is more out there for the taking.  I feel scared that I might miss out on something, like I may not have enough money right now to honor God with it (I will later, of course), I don’t have enough time to do what I really want to do, etc.  Seeing the world through God’s abundance teaches me how awesome it is to have friends, Jesus is the center of our schedules, and that there is enough resources not just for me-but for all.

John (in chapter 10) recounts Jesus’ telling of some really cool images about sheep, gates, shepherds, and thieves.  I like the King James Version of verse 10, where Jesus tells of the life that he has for us.  “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”  

My good friend recently turned me on to some ideas that Ched Myers has been talking about, particularly Sabbath Economics where this scarcity and abundance come into a tension that shows our necessity for Jesus to lead us.  

If our worldview can be shaped by Christ’s abundant grace like the apostle Paul wrote to Timothy (1 Tim 1), if we can live out of God’s abundant love-our whole lives reflect that different paradigm.  

 It seems so natural to live in God’s abundant providence for us-I often wonder why it is so hard.  Thinking in basic physical terms, enough food is grown to feed the entire world (world hunger facts)-why are people still starving?  We are connected to the source of all love and creativity-why are so many people still so depraved and violent?  

One way that we can participate as part of Jesus’ world redemption project is to live, breathe, teach, and live out of his abundance.  The way that we treat one another, use resources will all take shape out of our base knowledge and the reality that Jesus is enough and has enough-for all.  

Masters of Divinity (By the power of Grayskull!)

Published
by
Benjamin White
on September 12, 2007
in Community, Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 2 Comments

The other night I was waxing nostalgic with some friends about eighties cartoon shows, and someone told me that He-Man was forbidden by her mother because of its apparent occult themes. Skeletor was pretty ghoulish and He-Man did summon the mystic power of Grayskull on a regular basis; I guess I see her mom’s point. There are most likely other folks out there who have never seen He-Man for the same or other reasons. Hopefully you found another hero to stretch your imagination and plant in you a seed of grandeur, a potential for mastering the universe, or at least assuming your God given dignity.

I certainly have no shortage of belief in my own capacity. I may have watched too much He-Man because from a very early age I have been proclaiming my power to the universe. It’s only recently and begrudgingly that I realize I am no He-Man. I cannot conquer the forces of evil all by myself. I am going to need help and I am going to need to develop the skills I have to confront our Enemy.

To do so I have enrolled in Princeton Theological Seminary’s Masters of Divinity program for January 2008. However, the idea that I might master divinity, as the title might suggest, during my three years of study is unfortunately preposterous. I will not be a Master of Christianity or of God or of Jesus by any course of study. I don’t need to go to Seminary to be able to lead a church or a cell. Any authority I may possess will never come from a piece of paper or any letters written after my name. It comes from my experience working things out with God and my community. It comes from Jesus and the relationship I have with Him.

I’m going to Seminary because I feel called by God to develop the skills He has given me. I have a desire to study and challenge myself more than I have before. I know that the Church is the best way to change the world and I want to work for Her as much as possible. I think that going to Seminary will help me down the road I’m headed but it won’t make me an expert on relationship with God. Nor am I waiting until January to start my “official training” in building the Kingdom.

The truth is we can all say with He-Man, “I have the power!” I don’t even remember what Grayskull was, but it coincidentally echoes another and more real source of power, Golgotha, the Place of the Skull, where Jesus died to save us all. Because Jesus came to be with us, because he died and lives now in us who welcome Him, each one of us can have “the power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and deep and high is the love of Christ and to know this love which surpasses knowledge, [and] to be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:18-19). To get all soaked in the fullness of God takes time but there are no saturation requirements to use what you have so far. Any knowledge of the depth of Christ’s love is something to work with, and something we all need for our common mission.

In our overly specialized world where doctoral candidates have to seek more and more obscure topics of study in order to be experts in some corner of human knowledge, it’s common to leave it to them. We let those who have studied and those who have a title tell us what is true. We often forsake our heroic potential because there’s no way we’re going back to school, or there’s no way we’re going to read as many books as the next guy. But in three years, if I get my Masters of Divinity degree, I hope you don’t let me do the talking, take the reigns, etc. I hope you (By the power of Golgotha!) help me see where I still am wrong and lead us into deeper places with God.