Monthly Archive for September, 2008

Two Encounters

Published
by
Nathan Leonard
on September 24, 2008
in Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 2 Comments

Recently I met a Baptist who tried to convert me. When I told him that I was already a Christian, he wanted to know the answer to certain questions like what does it mean to be saved, and what does John 3:16 say? I responded to his interrogation begrudgingly. Growing up, I was taught to answer questions like these as if my response would decide whether or not I go to Heaven or Hell. So when this guy posed the question, “On judgment day what are you going to say to God when he asks you why you deserve eternal life?” I was reluctant to satisfy him with a response even though I knew what he wanted to hear. After speaking with him I had a feeling like I was sinking or falling. I questioned whether or not I was really a Christian. I guess that shows the power of guilt or how deep the scars are from my upbringing.

In the last month I’ve had some things affecting my life that were out of my control. My bedroom became infested with bed bugs, which, are apparently one of the worst pests you can have in your house. The infestation probably had a more psychological than physical effect on me though. Discovering bugs crawling all over you while you sleep can do that. Simultaneously, I had some school enrollment issues, which led me to believe that I might not be able to complete the program I’ve begun. Being halfway though it, with over $20,000 in loans, this was upsetting to me. Poorly responding to these situations, I became very negative, thinking that God was trying to send me a message about my life and how I was completely off base with my endeavors; where I live, and what I want to do for a career. Then remarkably, things became resolved in a relatively easy manner. On that day God spoke to me clearly saying, “The main thing you need to change is how much you trust in me.”

Elisha

Published
by
Rod White
on September 15, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Planning
. 1 Comment

It is good to be back from my sabbatical, my summer of pilgrimage. Last Thursday, the “Mutts” comic in the Inquirer had the dog thinking, “Sometimes the best part of going for a walk is coming home.” I can relate to that dog.

But, unlike the dog, I don’t feel like having a bite of home-cooked Alpo and taking a nap. Much the contrary, I have already been flooding my friends with new ideas and recharged convictions. I’m eager to see what God will do next.

Just this morning, the reading from Celtic Daily Prayer, which many people have begun to use with me, led me to 2 Kings 2:11-14 which describes a lot of what I feel.

As they were walking along and talking together, suddenly a chariot of fire and horses of fire appeared and separated the two of them, and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind. Elisha saw this and cried out, “My father! My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!” And Elisha saw him no more. Then he took hold of his own clothes and tore them apart.
He picked up the cloak that had fallen from Elijah and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. Then he took the cloak that had fallen from him and struck the water with it. “Where now is the LORD, the God of Elijah?” he asked. When he struck the water, it divided to the right and to the left, and he crossed over.

The idea of Elijah’s cloak/mantle moves me for two main reasons, right now:.

1) I am so grateful to the people who took up my “mantle” while I was away: Nate, Tracey, Ben, and Nathan, in particular. And the staff needed to do so much of what I would normally do: Joshua, Liz, Jeremiah, Kristen, Amanda. They did very well, don’t you think?

2) I am excited to know that God will be present in what is next. Elisha is freaked out about Elijah’s strange, wonderful and powerful departure. He’s left with the cloak Elijah had thrown around him earlier as a symbol of Elisha’s future as an agent of transformation and truth in Israel. But Elisha hadn’t really worn it yet, and he hadn’t moved into what is next.

When he struck the Jordan, maybe he was throwing the cloak away in frustration or fear. I doubt that, but the result might have been the same, anyway. Maybe he was striking the water as a test to see if God would show up for him when he used the “magic cloak” pulsing with Elijah’s prophet power. I doubt that too, but the result might have been the same. I think he struck the water with an honest cry of anguish and loss, “Where are you now, God?” God was in Elijah, but that was the past. “Are you here, now?” The result was very exciting.

While on my pilgrimage, I saw a LOT of where God HAS been. The more I learned about the Celts and felt the power of the places they made holy, the more impressed and inspired I became. I think they responded to their era in many of the ways we need to respond to ours, too. I am ready to strike the water and see where God is.

What will happen in the new buildings on Frankford? What will happen in Camden? What will happen as Broad and Washington moves into a new era, as our neighborhood keeps changing around us, as we learn to use the amazing capacity we have built up over many years, and as the next disaster arrives to test us? What will Circle Thrift, Circle Counseling, and all the other mission teams of Circle Venture do? What will Shalom House and all the other intentional communities create? What will all the Cell Leaders cause through their amazing disciple making and pastoring? What will God do with my next fifteen years? I am excited to find out.

Moving

Published
by
Nathan Swanson
on September 9, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 5 Comments

Two weeks ago I started moving. I say started because it is taking me a long time. Why? Because I am doing it almost entirely by myself, even with Ben’s sermon on accepting help popping up in the middle of my move. I haven’t been seeking out help and haven’t fully utilized friends’ offers to help. A few people have helped who were adamant about helping me. Yesterday, when I came out of my house, five boys around ages 6-9 were outside. I carried half a dozen boxes and then some drawers for my desk out to the curb. Seeing how bored they were and the football in one of the boys’ hands, I offered to show them how to play a football game from my childhood: 500. We played for about 20 minutes. It was a lot of fun.

I then pulled my van up to the house. I was planning on loading everything myself. As I got out of the van the boys swarmed around the boxes. They asked if they could help load the van. “Sure,” I said, doubting they would be of much help. I never had a chance to touch a box. By the time I had opened the side door. They were grabbing drawers and boxes, even lifting them into my low-rider of a Vanagon, often two or three boys to a box. I felt like I was in a stampede up to my elbows in boxes, drawers, and little boys. A job that would have taken me 20 minutes was done in less than 4 because of the unexpected help of five boys who weighed less than fifty pounds each. I was amazed and awestruck. I was reminded of Ben’s sermon.

How often do I not allow God’s help in my life? I struggle keeping in balance my confidence in myself and my understanding of God’s value of me. I am often either too confident to receive help or I don’t feel valuable enough or worthy of help. Either way I am left alone struggling, often times going nowhere or at least taking a lot more time then necessarily. My cell members through our conversations and their actions are constantly reminding me that we are a community of God’s help. They remind me, as I remind them, that we are valuable enough for God’s help, and need to be humble enough to receive it. It can be a transformative experience receiving His help in all its various forms, especially when it is from a unexpected source (like the young boys of Reinhard Street).

September and Beginnings

Published
by
Anne Kopena
on September 6, 2008
in Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

I have always been glad that I was born in September. First of all, the cool morning temperatures and warm mid-days are incredibly inviting. Another great characteristic of September is new beginnings. I think even if I weren’t involved in school year cycles, I would still be trained to see September as a start. This summer I’ve been thinking a lot about the apostle Peter when I think about starting anew. I’ve been thinking about how Peter gets a new beginning with Jesus. He goes from being a fisherman to being a fisher of men. He goes from being the disciple that denied Jesus three times to be being bold and renewed in the Holy Spirit sharing the love of Jesus all over. I think Peter shows us that we have time and grace. That it’s okay to stumble and fall but still be bold. Especially now at Circle of Hope when we are planting congregations and thinking about our future, it’s some thing to keep in mind. I think at this time it is okay to be a little apprehensive, it is okay to be a little bit nervous, and God will work that out in us. If you have never heard the story of Peter walking on water with the help of Jesus, I encourage you to read it (Matthew 14). A lot of people remember it as Peter having too little faith and sinking. What always impresses me about that story is that Peter had the courage, even when no one else was trying, to walk out to Jesus, to defy all laws of physics and try to be closer to God. Maybe that’s some thing to aim for in the month of September.

the new kid and considering the other

Published
by
Joshua Grace
on September 3, 2008
in Community, Dialogue, Family and Planning
. 2 Comments

I forget what it’s like to be the new kid.  I live in a neighborhood where I am pretty familiar, in a community where I practically grew up (got connected to Circle of Hope 11yrs ago this month!), I have a family, I have an office, and have a general sense of living in my own skin.

Today I began taking two classes at Temple, and I have a new yet strangely familiar sense of being the new kid.  Other students are rushing around anonymously.  Most people in my class seem to understand how to go and buy the book we need or ready a syllabus or the etiquette for finding a seat in class.  I don’t, really.  I forgot.  It’s been 10yrs since I was in college, and everything seems a little different. One of my profs (yeah, I call them “profs” now) said something to the class this morning about “eh, you all are upper classmen and know how this stuff works…”.  Not really.

I’m grateful for how much effort we as a church put into considering the “other”.  At the Public Meetings we try to speak in ways that the next person coming off the street can understand and connect with.  We acknowledge that people even at this meeting might be from a different background than us-class, ethnicity, age, and even faith journey.  The “empty chair” at our cell meetings that we keep is to make room for the next person.  We worship in styles and languages not necessarily familliar to all of us…it keeps us considering the other.   We want all to be welcome without implying “you’re welcome if your just like me.”

Thanks for thinking about the other and considering those who may feel like the new kid around Circle of Hope right now.