There are many books out--some of them good--about a new way of looking at church or doing church.  Or being the church.  We read THE ORGANIC CHURCH and HOUSES THAT CHANGE THE WORLD.  But they basically offered new formulas and configurations.  They did not get to the heart of the matter.  I am ready to end that search for the perfect way to do it and just focus on THE Way, THE Truth, and THE Light.  If I would read the Gospels with the same eagerness and receptivity that I read these "church" books, I am sure it would take me far.  I have been reminded that it is about people.  It's not, if you build it, they will come.  It's, if you lay it down for them, they will get a glimpse of Jesus; they will feel their stomachs twinge with longing for more of him.  They will cringe at their own poverty and clamor for the hem of his garment.  It must start with my own seeing, the twisting and longing of my insides for him, my own collapse into mercy and surrender.

            I think the metaphor of planting a church is twisted…or at least not very well thought out.  What seeds are used?  And what exactly is supposed to grow?  The praxis of it seems to look like subsidiaries of established religious institutions branching off to replicate elsewhere.  I guess that’s a little like how plants work, but plants are straight from God, and the institution of church, in its current, prevalent forms, is not.  C & I talk of planting a church, but I don’t even like church, so why consider planting one?  It’s like preparing and educating ourselves to cultivate and perpetuate the growth of a weed.

           

            I just read The Open Church, by James Rutz, and it greatly encouraged me in my resistance to what commonly is and in my dream for what could be.  It is a common practice to try and systematize things (education, religion, information, etc.), I guess for reasons of control and efficiency.  But this results in depersonalizing things that are essentially very personal.  This results in the death of passion and love and intimacy and purpose.

 

            If C & I were to start something, we would want to join with others who also wanted to enter the space of truthful communion with God and with one another.  Control and efficiency could not be high priorities.  Trust and humility and the longing to love and be loved, to know and be known, must fill that space.  Healthy, holy relationship with God and each other is what matters most.  There is no greater goal or vision.  It is not something to gloss over or to pay verbal and mental tribute to but never engage in.  Relationship is not something that is meant to plateau or become static, especially relationship with God.  The dimensions of his love will take more than a lifetime to fall into.  The renewing of our minds and purification of our hearts will take just as long.  And the kind of relationships with people that bring healing and lightness to the journey (foot-washing, sin-confessing, burden-carrying relationships) require a level of trust and exposure that only comes with much time and effort. 

 

            Church planting endeavors talk about core groups, the people committed to the vision and the implementation of it.  Well, if the core group members’ greatest need is truthful communion with God and each other, then that should always be central, despite the changes that come about or the growth that takes place over time.  This is what keeps a believer from shrinking back and being destroyed.  This is the path of abundant life.  There is no comparable substitute for the presence of God.  So, it shouldn’t be replaced with strategies or programs to accommodate others who may have never experienced it and don’t yet know the importance of it.  If we are in intimate relationship with God and others, then we truly have good news to share with those on the outside of this relationship:  that they, too, can enter in to the presence of God; they, too, can join the beautiful, messy, life-giving communion of believers.  In this communion, individual needs and gifts and passions will be met, exchanged, expressed; natural affinities will develop; visions will form; and ministries will develop out of this communion, which will further meet needs, share gifts, and give passion an outlet.  But no ministry should take the place of or become bigger than the space of truthful communion with God and one another.  No building or growth strategy or initiative should depersonalize it.  This is the seed I want to grow in me…the seed of deep, life-giving relationship.  This is the garden I want to be part of cultivating.        

 

                  

 

           

Paul said, “God, whom I serve with my whole heart…”, and I know that I cannot say that. It is not that I don’t love Him. When I sit at the piano to sing worship songs, He comes to me and floods me with the joy of His Presence. When I pray with others, the Holy Spirit fills me with what to pray for, and I am blessed and humbled and electrified. It is not that I don’t care that the world is dying on my doorstep. I am not ashamed of the gospel. But perhaps I am ashamed of the way I contaminate it with my half-hearted efforts at denying myself and sharing in Christ’s sufferings. Perhaps it does not match my image or my personal agenda.

I honestly do not know what steps to take to be clean…to be holy. Well, yes, I do know that I need to love C (and the rest of my “neighbors”) in all my words and actions and thoughts. I know that I need to bless and not curse with my words and actions… giving thanks in every situation…rejoicing always…

As far as sharing the gospel, I need a fresh vision…a fresh image…a fresh strategy. I need to pray more for those who need him, is what God’s telling me. And He will then show me what to do and what to say, when the opportunity presents itself. He says, Be obedient in the things I am showing you to do—don’t distract yourself from the concrete by philosophizing about the abstract…

As far as taking care of the earth and its inhabitants and not contributing to their exploitation…that, too, overwhelms me in this land of cheap exports and urban sprawl and poor public transportation. But God, in his kindness, is saying, Remember first what I’ve done and what you’ve done…and then we’ll move forward together…

We moved into this neighborhood and into this house, not for the glamour and prestige of it, but in the hope of redeeming something once beautiful. We knew very few people here, and the majority of people we saw living here were not necessarily attractive or like us in any obvious way. But we believed that there were treasures here—that there were connections waiting to happen. The physical process of restoring and repairing this house was grueling…I don’t ever want to be faced with ripping away a house full of stinky carpet and scraping off multiple layers of wallpaper again. The restoration was not merely cosmetic—with the real issues still rotting underneath a fresh coat of paint. When C’s father discovered that a structural beam had gone soft from a neglected water leak, all of the damaged wood had to be torn out, which resulted in a great view of the upstairs bathroom from the downstairs library. All the plumbing had to be replaced, as well as all of the electric. C took a break one day from deconstructing our house to assess the damage and realized he never would have bought this place if he knew how much work was needed to restore it to health. But God knew, and still he led us here. And K knew, and still he agreed to take most of the reparations upon himself. And he did beautiful work. Although the outside of the house is wasting away, the inside has been wondrously renewed. It is a delightful space.

We were attracted to the two extra lots that we believed would one day provide us with a nice yard. But when we bought the place, the lots were basically dumping grounds for the neighborhood garbage. In addition, there were concrete remnants of two houses that had stood there ten years earlier and had burned down. We filled a 30 yard dumpster with concrete and rubbish, but that was just the beginning of a process that took years. I remember that first year, digging into the soil in an attempt to make a garden and turning up so much glass and plastic and wire and gross stuff that I nearly gave up on ever growing anything. That was over five years ago. The other evening, C and G and I were eating dinner outside and we looked around our yard at the beautiful plants and flowers growing and the twenty or so newly planted trees waving their leaves in the summer breeze, and we sighed with pleasure. “It is finally nice here,” we agreed. This has been a place of re-creation for us. When firsthand reproduction wasn’t working, we parented our German shepherd and two ducks and, at one point, a dozen poultry. But since then, God has blessed us with G, and he enjoys the fruits of our labor, like the strawberries growing in the garden, but also the flowers and trees and the grassy yard that is his (and Mocca’s) to roam. When he was just learning to walk in the spring, he would hold onto my finger and lead me around to the plants pushing out of the earth. He pointed to them, touched them and uttered a syllable of joy and wonder. Then the buds began to form, and he would hold them between his thumb and forefinger (and sometimes snap them off). And then the flowers began to bloom, and he was delighted with them and called them “Dada.” (He still does.) It is a joy for me to watch him delighting in beauty…beauty that God lavished upon us with such artistry and generosity… beauty that had been lost to this plot of land but is slowly being restored.

We came here knowing a local pastor and his wife and a friend of mine from college who had moved down here with his family. We joined the church. The friend and his family moved away. The church had never had a home group in its century of existence, but a few months after we started coming, some people in the church approached us with their desire to start a home group. That home group is now over five years old. Five of the original ten participants moved on to other places. Others have come and gone. Five of us are still around, and five others have joined us. The home group has been a place of intense growth and pain and beauty. It is a place of exposure and worship and healing. It is a place to be in the presence of God. It is a place to be present with others. It is a place to grow up. It is a place where relationships solidify. God knew all of this before we came to this place. God knew we needed them, and they needed us.

Those relationships brought us into contact with other relationships and another local church and their grassroots school. Through those contacts, I was able to teach in this neighborhood in a way that I had previously only dreamed of. I was able to grow close to people that I wouldn’t have believed existed if I hadn’t experienced them with my own heart and mind. And they were all here, in this city.

The home group and my growing friendships gave me courage to face more difficult but nevertheless important relationships with people and institutions that I was more or less merely tolerating. I made mistakes in these face-to-face encounters. I almost made enemies. But in the meantime, much growth has taken place in me and in these relationships. Things have been born and connections are even now being made that I scarcely dared to dream of.

I am so thankful to God for giving me a glimpse of the recent past, so full of his good gifts and tricky but perfect ways of making things beautiful. He has given me courage to face the present and beyond. C and I desire to use what we have learned about buried treasures and restoration and reconciliation to start something somewhere for the kingdom. There is the "out there", "some day" plan, and there is the current everyday reality. They do not always match up. I think it is important to look at what we currently do, not out of obligation or office, but out of love and passion, and build upon that. For example, something that happens naturally for C and me, regardless of where we are living, is that we accompany a few people…through their journeys and struggles. We kind of disciple them and counsel them together, but not really intentionally. Another pattern that is emerging with us is that we are reconcilers. C has the great gift of maintaining his own stance and opinion without feeling threatened by other people’s differing opinions or need for control. Although he has many opinions, people feel comfortable with him. Because he is not threatened, he is not threatening, and people generally trust him and confide in him. He is not out to change the world. Instead, he makes changes and draws people by being a loyal, trustworthy friend and fellow worker, despite a less than ideal reality. I, on the other hand, am out to change the world . I dream dreams of beautiful places where the hearts of people are transformed by reconciliation and knowledge and love. As I set out to realize those dreams, the reality of others often tries my patience. The reality of me makes the journey rough and edgy. But more than once I have seen God breathe life into my dreams. And I know he wants me to keep dreaming dreams and depending on him for their realization.

As I am finishing up my education to be a counselor, I am finding that it gives me great satisfaction to help people get to the core of themselves and their issues and grow in awareness of how to uncover and throw off lies and destructive ways of being and take on new thoughts and new ways. It is a messy and delicate business, but it is beautiful, too. Although my education and training is secular at its core, the process is in line with the heart of God. He desires truth in the inner parts. He brings dead things to life again and calls things that are not as though they were. He is the redeemer of ruined souls. I feel the exhilaration of being close to something healing and life-giving. What does the immediate future hold? It is important to keep moving forward, or my heart grows stagnant and my mind grows cynical. I must keep praying about what God has for me to do, but in the fall, I will be interning as a counselor at a middle school, and I must focus on making that real and good and clearing out spaces for beautiful things to happen. Until then, I currently spend most of each day with G, and he is at an age where I have to put more effort into raising him right, as opposed to simply meeting his physical needs. He is demanding and, so far, I have been quite compliant. But it is time to assess what I need and what he needs from me as his parent. In September, a young woman will come to live with us to take care of G while I am working. My prayer is that she gives to G in ways that make him strong and beautiful, and that we can give to her and accompany her on a good path of growth and joy and intimacy with Jesus.

I have not yet learned how to separate myself from the rituals of exploitation and waste and excess that I engage in with the rest of this country’s population. I do believe, however, that God does not turn away from or make excuses for social sins. No temptation is so great that God can’t provide a way to resist it and stand up under it. I do not know where to start, though, in throwing them off and living apart from them.