ArchivePage 2 of 13

Hope

Published
by
Rod White
on July 15, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 6 Comments

I have been enjoying the latest work of N.T. Wright called , Surprised By Hope, Rethinking, Heaven, the Resurrection and the Mission of the Church. I recommend it to you.

He does a lot to clarify our thinking about what is really going to happen at the end of time. He does a good job at undermining the BAD thinking that has crept into Christianity from other philosophies and religions that does not fit with the revelation in scripture of what we’re looking forward to.

For instance, here is a quote: “The resurrection, both of Jesus and then in the future of his people, is the foundation of the Christian stance of allegiance to a different king, a different Lord. Death is the last weapon of the tyrant, and the point of the resurrection, despite much misunderstanding, is that death has been defeated. Resurrection is not the redescription of death; it is its overthrow and, with that, the overthrow of those whose power depends on it. Despite the sneers and slurs of some contemporary scholars, it was those who believed in the bodily resurrection who were burned at the stake and thrown to the lions. Resurrection was never a way of settling down and becoming respectable; the Pharisees could have told you that. It was the Gnostics, who translated the language of resurrection into a private spirituality and a dualistic cosmology, thereby more or less altering its meaning into its opposite, who escaped persecution. Which emperor would have sleepless nights worrying that his subjects were reading the Gospel of Thomas? Resurrection was always bound to get you into trouble, and it regularly did.”

There may be some thoughts in that quote that are new to you. But I pass it on to encourage you to think things through about your future hope. A couple of years ago, The DaVinci Code again popularized the ideas of the Gnostic “gospels” that got some followers thinking, a long time ago, that they were a spirit trapped in a body and that their spirit would be freed at death to go to heaven where they would be like angels. When we sing, “This world is not my home,” we can take it too far! We are the beloved creatures of our Creator. God will restore our home and will bring those who love him back to live with him, just like he raised Jesus. I’m not sure how it will all work, but we could be sitting on the porch with Andrea in a restored Fishtown one fine day. I’m looking forward to that.

brighter is better?

Published
by
Kristen
on July 12, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

Sometimes when I’m driving at night on the highway, it’s hard to see clearly on a clear night. I believe this is not inherently due to the darkness of nighttime, but to the brightness of the headlights on cars nowadays. I don’t know for sure, cause I try not to pay attention to advertisements and commercials, but I think that lately car companies have a “brighter is better” approach that they try to sell us on when it comes to headlights. To me, considering the basics I know about the human eye and how vision works, this doesn’t make any sense.



I will sum up briefly and simply what I’ve learned about dark adaptation. Basically, fully functioning human eyes are amazing and complex and can adapt to seeing in a wide range of lighting situations. This adaptation from seeing well in bright lighting to seeing well in dim lighting happens gradually over the course of about 20-30 minutes (about the time that the change in lighting during twilight lasts). I was really aware of experiencing this for the first time when going on a night hike through the woods on a 7th grade overnight class trip. We were specifically told not to bring flashlights, and to trust that we would be able to see in the darkness in time. And soon enough, the “absolute darkness” took on shape and form, and details emerged right before our eyes as they adapted to the dark! But this wonderful dark adaptation that our eyes work up to attaining can be ruined immediately with the presence of a bright light. Exposing our eyes to a bright light, and then trying to have the same level of vision as previously when our eyes were adapted to the dim lighting, is impossible; the bright light has basically resulted in temporary blindness.

Basically, brighter headlights are great for the individuals who have them, but so detrimental to everyone else coming their way. If we all relied more on dark adaptation and tried to consider each other, the answer would be dimmer, not brighter, headlights. But doesn’t it sometimes seem that once the precedent is set, the only way for you to survive is to continually try to outshine everyone else? And this way of thinking can be found in so many different areas of life as well- how quickly this escalation can occur! Lately, I have really been feeling the sorrow of a culture where everyone seems to be trying to outshine each other. I am blessed to be a part of this community, and to explore counteracting the “brighter is better” mindset together.

A DTR with Philly

Published
by
Emily Kephart
on July 7, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 3 Comments

I have been feeling, recently, a certain uncertainty with life, my job, with Philadelphia. Not good or bad, just uncertain.

My relationship with Philly has changed significantly since we met in the summer of 2006. I initially came to go to grad school. It was a means to an end, before i was to live happily-ever-after, traipsing around the world. I finished grad school, but my vision of happily-ever-after changed. I wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do, or even what my purpose was anymore. Philly was there then, saying, i’m here, i’ll love and support you, stay with me. So i did, and Philly came through, with friends, community, love, coffee, a new bike, and a job that spoke to my gifts.

During this time my friendship with Philly grew. I came to know and appreciate more of its quirks, nuances, and idiosyncrasies. We developed an honest kind of friendship, that reveals each other’s strengths and weaknesses; I told Philly it was stinky and dirty; Philly told me i was self-centered and had a lot to learn about loving people who i viewed as “flawed”. I have greatly appreciated the growth i have experienced through my relationship with Philly.

Now that Philly and i have become much better friends, it has become apparent that we need to make our intentions clear. It is time for a DTR (define the relationship) with Philly.

It occurs to me that previously, i may have fallen into the category of “casual dater” with the other cities and towns i’ve lived in. I must be growing up, because i think it’s time to be intentional about being in this relationship with Philly.

I no longer need to be here for grad school.

I no longer need the supportive crutch to rebuild my direction (tho it certainly can’t hurt).

So it is time for me to decide why I am staying here. Where is this relationship going? Like any DTR, I don’t need all the answers right away I suppose, but it is time to redefine our relationship, in some way. The answers to these questions don’t need to mean it is time for me to move on, or that I should dig in for the long haul tomorrow– my analogies always breakdown eventually. The bottom line is that it is time to look at what we have here, and re-frame it. And so, over the next few days, weeks, and months, I look forward to working on this with all of you, who are represented in my personification of Philly.

It Takes a Village

Published
by
Rebekah
on July 3, 2008
in Community, Dialogue, Family and Partnerships
. 3 Comments

(by Rebekah, not Hillary Clinton)

So, I did a little experiment, and I found out why it takes two people to make a baby. It’s because you need at least two people to raise that kid, while managing the rest of your life! God bless those progressive thinkers who think they can do it alone, because I most certainly need you all, my village.

For those of you who don’t know, I am a single mother of a gorgeous 4-year-old girl named Eden. My pregnancy resulted from a casual relationship that wasn’t worth continuing when posed with the question of becoming more serious.

Luckily, at the same time (i.e. double life), I had been building real, healthy relationships with folks connected to Circle of Hope, and it’s those relationships that have seen Eden and me through. For instance, when I first told my friends at Circle about my pregnancy, they threw a party for me, and solidified their commitment of support. This was exactly the help and acceptance I needed to feel at a time when I was so scared and ashamed. Then, a group of other moms came together and provided me with a patchwork of childcare, so that I could work full-time for two years! For those of you who don’t know, full-time daycare can cost at least $600 to $900 per month. These women saved me money I didn’t have, and, more importantly, provided the peace of mind that Eden was in a safe, nurturing environment. Now, another group of friends rotates to watch Eden, so that I can attend cell group one night per week. I’m also grateful to have my blood-related family close by.

Mind you, I’m one of those people who likes to do life on her own, and not accept help, no matter how much sense it makes. I like to talk through issues with friends, but I like to resolve them myself. When initially discussing my single parenting with my mother, she warned me that one of my biggest obstacles would be that I would have to ask for and receive help. Surely, my mother knows me well, and I am on a growth journey of seeking out and taking extended hands.

All this to say, I wouldn’t necessarily advocate single parenthood, but having many of you as helpers, planners, observable subjects, affirmers, and grace-givers, makes the parenting feel a lot less single. This village we’ve created in Circle of Hope has been essential to Eden’s and my development…and sanity!

Jesus, joy, and time

Published
by
Jeremy Avellino
on June 30, 2008
in Dialogue and Uncategorized
. 1 Comment

I am sharing a story about Jesus, joy, and time. (Five years ago) I am on a surf trip to the Outer Banks with some close friends, and for the first time since I began this “non-productive, non-depleting pursuit” I am connecting to the flow of what a wave is already doing that I am paddling into. This has taken some time to arrive at, and it is lasting no more than 3 or 4 seconds (in linear time), I think, but I am experiencing in a very different way right here and now.

Life is really long, slow, detailed, extended…In the moments before this moment I am calling ‘here,’ I was unbalanced, awkward, feeble, struggling, and tired from all the trying, from all the dig-dig-digging in the water I was doing all day. But now it is all so slow; this extension of moments. And here I am (and there I go, in a way). I won’t forget this.

A lump in the ocean approaches. Can you see what I am seeing?

I have been waiting for this. I see a kinetic mound of Creation rising to meet me out of the vastness of the sea. Three friends are here with me at Kitty Hawk at this late hour on this spring day, and this peak is coming to see me.

How far has it come to meet me here? How shall I respond? I spin my feet under the water, grab my rail and twist around to see the shore, lie on my belly, chin humbly planted to waxy deck. I am paddling as hard as I can, so why I am I moving backwards? As gravity takes over I leap to my feet and stand erect on the plank below, and, then it happens. Here I am, locked in…in trim. I am here. There I go…no, I’m still here. Balance…Harmony…Awareness…Joy. I am present, and every bit of minutia is meaningful. I can hear the hoots and hollers of my friends, but it’s slow, muffled. I can see Chris paddling back out. Yes, there he is, waving madly at me, making noises. What is he yelling about? Seems like he has a good view of what’s happening. This is so slow. What is going on with the sound right now? There is a foam-ball immediately behind me, making all kinds of racket hitting the glassy shallows, so why can’t I hear it? All the hoots are dying out, like white noise.

pit…

pat…

pit-pit……

pit-pat…

Pit-pat-pat……

That’s all I hear, this delicate, still, small, lapping flutter. My board is planing across the growing, banking face of this little wave, and all I can hear is this lapping. I am moving forward but I am still. I am here right now. It is that good. It’s ending now in a way.

I’ve been told that a wave in the ocean is no more than pure energy expressing itself through that particular medium (water). When it breaks it’s just the final expression of what it’s been moving towards from its fetch thousands of miles away. Once initiated wind, it happens relentlessly over the surface of the ocean for weeks on end. Ironically according to Wikipedia, “There is little actual forward motion of individual water particles in a wave, despite the large amount of energy it may carry forward.”

I’m really glad my friends got a picture of the scene:

punk rock happiness

Published
by
Joshua
on June 26, 2008
in Dialogue, Family and Friends Projects
. 2 Comments

Andrea and Kelly are really inspiring to me. I prefer in person, but also through the award-winning blog Punk Rock Mommy. These two friends have a special parking space in my heart. I love that hanging with them, I always know that they are going to listen as much as they are able. They are definitely going to shoot me straight with what they think, even if I don’t want to hear it. The special thing is, I can hear the truth from them because they speak it in love.

The truth for me right now is, I am not going to be able to have too many more of those truth-in-love moments with one of my friends. She’s been living with Inflammatory Breast Cancer for the past year and change, and the experts think that it’s about time her body got a break. I’m soaking her in while I can, though, and I’m grateful to know and love Kelly and the rest of the family.

I’m glad that I wrote down nuggets of wisdom that Andrea has says, often in passing when we get together to pray or eat tacos. Most of them are pretty funny, some just plain old profound. One thing she told me the other day was that she has spent the past year laughing. I’d say not laughing because everything is silly, as a defense mechanism, immaturity, or lack of understanding the gravity of her situation.

We laugh together, because it’s like she says…”happiness doesn’t come from us getting what we want, it comes from God working in us.”

Work on, God.

Reclaim the word hope

Published
by
Jane Clinton
on June 24, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 2 Comments

While praying and journaling one day I wondered when I should give up hope on something. But then I stopped and wondered why I would ever give up hope. I believe in a God who can do all things, so my hope should never end. When the Bible talks about hope it often talks about hope in the Lord. (You are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. — Ps. 25:5 May integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope is in you. — Ps. 25:21 And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. — Romans 5:2-5)

My hope is in the Lord alone. It’s in the promise of salvation and redemption that I have been given. Hope is something that we can trust will happen because it has been promised us. There are lots of things in the world that I want or desire, but nothing compares to the hope I have of spending eternity with Jesus.

I brought these thoughts to my cell group and we talked about how the word hope is used in different ways. “I hope you have a good day.” “I hope I get a free lunch.” “I hope I pass the test.” But in light of hope in the Lord, these are just whims. We decided that Christians should reclaim the word hope, reserving it for the Great Hope that we have in the Lord. Now when I’m speaking or writing to people I find other ways to express my wishes for them. It’s a small thing, but that discipline reminds me of the great hope that is stronger than anything that I may desire. In Jesus, I have all the hope I need. May you place your hope in the Lord today and everyday.

That’s valid

Published
by
Bryce Hewlett
on June 19, 2008
in Community and Dialogue
. 2 Comments

I love lunch breaks in the park. The spicy sausage with sour kraut I ate today made me think of backyard cookouts in Iowa City. Sour kraut was a family favorite. While fighting through the construction noise, my friend Nate and I talked about youth group games from high school. We chuckled at memories of “Sardines” and “American Eagle”. I mentioned a game we played in Iowa called “Slaughter” and had to qualify that there weren’t any farm animals involved.

It’s times like that when I feel the most alien here in Philadelphia. It doesn’t seem all that weird to me, but I can only imagine what it sounds like to others. In fact, it’s been hard for me to find any use for much of my Midwest upbringing.

While we talked I started to reconnect with those younger days. I got a feeling like, “Wow, maybe what I did back then does have some association to the here and now.” I’ve been getting that feeling more and more in recent months. It’s been quite nice.

All it took to help me connect was a shared experience, a listening ear, and a “that’s valid” posture. Joy makes me want to preach. There was a van driving around City Hall with a megaphone shouting about a cheated carpenter’s union. I thought that picture fit nicely. I’d like to shout some good news about caring. Will you shout with me? Let someone know they’re valid today.

Living Together

Published
by
Tricia Fussaro
on June 16, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Resources
. 5 Comments

I’ve been thinking about sharing recently. I suppose not entirely unusual for a kindergarten teacher. It’s practically my job to teach people how to share. This week I witnessed an interesting interaction. During free time, four of my students chose to work with our pattern blocks. Blue rhombuses, red trapezoids, yellow hexagons, orange squares, green triangles, each student may take one box to use and be responsible for returning. All four students grabbed their box and headed to the same table where they could work together. Three of those students immediately took their boxes and dumped them all together in the middle of the table. They began to discuss how much they had to work with and what they would create today. Those three also noticed one student still had all his pattern blocks in his box. They discussed the situation with him. “Put yours into the pile too. Look how much we’ve got! If you put yours in we’ll all have even more.” He looked back at the three not quite sure how he felt.

I find that kindergarten children are often very good at teaching me the life lessons I need to be learning. I have heard this invitation from time to time as well. Join in! Together we accomplish more. Take your pick. I’m sure you’ve heard the cry as well, perhaps in different ways throughout your life. Sometimes I’ve learned to jump right in. Other times, just as this little guy is with his pattern blocks, I’m hesitant.

This time the question has been floating around in my mind about living in community. When Adam and I first got married we were introduced to the idea of living together with other folks, sharing a living space, money, food, and responsibility. Sure, I had seen young, single people live together. It made sense to me. But once you were married you lived on your own. That was my idea of the way it went. The idea of families cohabitating sounded overwhelming. I knew lots of families who had trouble getting along and living together. Adding more people into the equation seemed like asking for trouble. Over the next few years I watched folks who were doing it. I decided to get my feet wet. We invited some single folks to live with us for a period, try it out for a bit.

Now our housemates have moved out. You know what? I miss them. I have loved living with people. It’s been a wonderful blessing. In the meantime, we’ve met this wonderful couple. They have two wonderful, beautiful little girls we adore. Over the last year their housing situation has been transitional. Adam and I have also been thinking about what is next for us. We’re just ready to look for a house and move. We found this wonderful house we love… With a yard! Imagine such a thing. It has grass. I can plant in the ground! This house is big. We’re talking six bedrooms. And it’s only the two of us. We share one bedroom. It’s big enough to share.

So, we asked them to move into this house with us. Live together. Share money, food, responsibility, and care for one another. They agreed. I am so excited, and SO scared. I know this is going to be hard. I haven’t lived with kids since I was one. And we don’t all know each other nearly as well as we knew the other folks we asked to lived with us. So it will be hard. All the best things I’ve ever done have been hard. I trust this will be no different. So I’m throwing myself in.

He threw his into the pile as well. The pattern blocks. He thought for a minute or two and saw all there was to be gained. The abundance of pattern blocks and fun and all the possibilities of what they could do together with all they had collectively. How about you? Where can you join in with what you have to add?

Pilgrimage

Published
by
Rod White
on June 12, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Planning
. 1 Comment

It’s been about a month now, that I have been on sabbatical. Thanks again for sending me. The long sabbath feels good. I’m resting, I’m healthier, and I’ve learned and loved a lot. The long sabbath is a good thing that should make me better able to return to what God has given me to do — it is hard to know what to do if one doesn’t do, too.

Now Gwen and I are about ready to take off on our month-long pilgrimage to commune with the missionary monks of the 4th-9th centuries, along with some other striking Christian examples from the past and present, in Ireland and the United Kingdom.

The other day I was going over the itinerary I had planned for us, cleaning up the final details, and I discovered that the room I thought I had booked in Winchester (the beginning of the famous road to Canterbury) was actually about a hundred miles away in Aylesford! Hmmm. I began to wonder how many other connections had been missed!

The mistake was easy to correct. I got a further room in Winchester and asked the brethren in Aylesford to let me come for one night, not two. As it turns out, unbeknownst to me (they say things like that over there, I’m already beginning to talk like Reepicheep), the Aylesford Priory, where I had booked the mistaken room, is actually a traditional stopping place for pilgrims on the way from Winchester to Canterbury. And that is just what I intend to be!

I suppose the trip just may go that way. I can’t control things too well. I don’t know everything. I can’t do everything right. And the destination is still better than I expected. It is always like this: “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). Of course, I don’t think I am a robot waiting for God to activate me by remote control! But I do think I explore far too little of how God determines the steps of a person who isn’t quite sure where the journey is going to end up. I need to trust God first and ask questions later. I want to know more about how to walk by faith, not just by sight. That’s pilgrimage and that’s life.

I’ll tell you about things via my MySpace blog from here and there. I hope you’ll look in from time to time. But we’ll probably be just as connected if we are both on our journeys, listening and looking for God, seeing what the Lord has next and receiving it, expected or not — even suffering or not, with hope.