The Pieces Left Over

This past week we held a celebration of the life and connection of our church in my backyard.
We made plans for food, games, seating.
We invited our friends, neighbors, and community to celebrate with us.
I spent a good amount of time preparing our home for the gathering, making sure that we could have a good flow of people in and out of the house if necessary, ensuring the bathrooms were clean and well stocked, and prepping the lawn for a big tent
and tables
and chairs
and feet.

What I hadn't anticipated was that the weather would drop 30 degrees the night before and everybody would have to bring out their jackets and blankets. But even still, our turn out was good, there was more than enough food for everyone and after all of the cleanup I still had time to put my feet up before passing out for the night.

I have found that I am eternally grateful for the responsiveness of dedicated people. When I first came in to this church I put this event on our calendar to usher in a new season. I knew that as I put it on the calendar the church had gathered for their church picnic only a month prior. I was worried that we would suffer from an over abundance of cookout related events and that there wouldn't be any enthusiasm for more.

What I found instead was a church willing to go back to it again. And as I prepared coffee in the kitchen, I looked out the window and saw a familiar sight:

Jesus said to his disciples, “Make them sit down in groups of about fifty each.” They did so and made them all sit down. And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. And all ate and were filled. What was left over was gathered up, twelve baskets of broken pieces.

The sharing of a meal is a sign to the world of who is included and who isn't. Meals play a huge role in the Gospel of Luke, they reveal to us the willingness of Christ to bring all people together to the table. So fitting it was to see some old friends, those who once broke bread together under the same roof, reunite and join together with new faces, new lives to be touched, transformed and loved.

Jan Richardson says that "It is part of the miracle: how Jesus, with such intention, cares for the fragments following the feast. He sees the abundance that persists, the feast that remains within the fragments."

When I looked out my window I saw long standing church members sitting down on property that they help maintain, that they labored over, that they helped build brick by brick, that they prepared for my wife and I before we came. They were joined by neighbors, some new, some that they remembered from way back when, some that had walked away long ago.

When I believed there was scarcity in our preparation, God found abundance. Where I believed that this was simply a community gathering, God saw the broken pieces that we leave through our lives and began to pick them up. Our churches share deep roots with their communities. Some of those roots will lead to greater growth through careful nurturing. Others may have been damaged along the way and are in need of Christ's patience to collect the broken pieces for replanting. But all are invited, all are gathered in, and all may find welcome rest here among the family of God.

Building What?

Hebrews 11:1-3

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.

This week I've been thinking a lot about buildings. Over the weekend Mallory and I went on a free architecture tour of some of the downtown skyscrapers in Detroit. I've driven or walked past many of those buildings before, been in a few of them, but many of the little details I've never noticed before and the history I barely knew. It is so hard to hear of all of the grand ideals that led to the construction of many buildings, the hope that by planting another skyscraper business would boom and people would come pouring in, knowing the painful truth that the ideal never made it to reality.
I've caught myself thinking back to some of the earlier posts I've written, especially this post from the summer of 2010, and all of the pieces of wood I've laid down, all of the nails hammered, all of the shingles put in place, all of the electrical work and all of the concrete that's been poured.

All of this has got me thinking: What is it that makes a place meaningful to us?
Is it the brick and mortar?
Is it the business that is conducted inside?
Is it how well worn the building is? or how well maintained?
Is it the history of a place? How long its been around?

There was an exercise that we did with the groups who came in for Motown Mission when I worked there in 2010. We made this big puzzle out of blank pieces of paper that when they were all assembled would make a house. On each piece of paper we asked our groups to write prayers they had at the end of their week.

Some folks would write how they were thankful to meet someone new. Others wrote about the new experiences they had shared. One person wrote this prayer:

"Lord, a house is broken, a house is in disrepair, a house is ugly. Your love, Your servants changed a house that's fixed, a house repaired, a house that is beautiful. Your love changed our hearts, your love changed the hearts of those with the house, Your love made a garden grow without weeds, your love made people happy and gave them hope."

In the opening verse of Hebrews chapter 11, the author of Hebrews says that "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the proof of things not seen." The words "not seen" do not necessarily connote a lack of vision, but rather a vision that has yet to be realized. There is some debate in biblical scholarship as to whether or not the "assurance" that is talked about is objective or subjective, whether the assurance is something immediately tangible or something felt by the individual. Alan Mitchell suggests that it is both, in that the assurance of things hoped for is not something we can produce, it exists as something that transcends the individual.1 

This is true as well for the work we do with our hands. 

Buildings are not simply a collection of things, assembled by the will of one person, but the result of a collective vision built in the hope that that vision may one day be realized.

In our faith life we continually strive toward a vision of what the world could be. We have biblical text, a history of faithful people, and the Holy Spirit to guide us in our endeavor. All of those resources point to one unifying factor: community.

A biblical text formed over thousands of years by many hands.

A history of faithful people, trying to live into their relationship with God.

The Holy Spirit, a member of the community of the Trinity, God as three in one, whose mission is giving life to the body of Christ.

Community is what makes a house a home, a building a reality, a vision not yet realized faith.

We need one another, a body, working together in the hope that the Kingdom of God would be made on earth as it is in heaven.

I enjoy the prayer I shared here so much because that prayer acknowledges that it is not the work of one person, or the vision of an individual by which the Kingdom comes, but through the power of God, driving the community to live into the new creation.

Community is what makes a place real, what transforms a building into something more, time spent here on earth into life, and broken people into the people of God.

1. Alan Mitchell, Sacra Pagina: Hebrews

Uncommon Prayer

A few years ago a friend of mine handed me a mix-tape (more like a mix-CD), with the intention of it being used in worship. Scrawled on the front of the disc were the words "Uncommon Prayer." On the back of the sleeve that held the disc were names like Louis Armstrong, The Mountain Goats, Mason Jennings, The Flaming Lips, and Iron & Wine. As I held the disc in my hand I remember thinking, "but these aren't Christian groups." 

As I listened to the music, I began to see where my friend was coming from.

These were songs that conveyed beauty of God's creation, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the challenge and experience of God's love.
They just didn't use the words I was familiar with and I realized that

God doesn't just use the words that carry an "official" Christian seal to convey truth or love. 

But then again, the words I was used to hearing don't guarantee some great ideal either. I was brought up in a Christian worship scene that was wrapped up in Veggie Tales and bands like Audio Adrenaline or Newsboys. I remember one song by the Newsboys that was quite popular at the concerts, lock-ins and youth gatherings I attended. It's called The Breakfast Song and it's a catchy little tune that I thought was about cereal, Jesus and faith. As I got older, I would think back to the lyrics with horror. It's a song clearly marketed toward children, where the primary message is a warning about Hell. The song describes a group of young cereal lovers (presumably children, due to the references to gym class) that are mourning the death of one of their friends. But their friend left them a reminder from his short lived life that "when the big one finds you/ may this song remind you/ they don't serve breakfast in hell."

I'm of the opinion that if you have to start off a conversation about the need for God in someone's life with warning on Hell, you've missed the point.

I also think that if you have to sell heaven (or hell) to children through sugary cereals, then you've missed every point along the way.

1

This is why I think that there's something captivating about authenticity, living the authentic life, that is just missed in the larger American Christian consumer culture. We sing songs about the lack of breakfast cereal in hell, when Jesus has provided a wonderful meal for us now, a simple meal of bread and wine. Furthermore the language of table in the Gospel feast is not one of warning, but of invitation. There's a reason why we all shake our heads at the folks standing on the street corner holding signs and shouting scripture warning of sin/death/the end. It feels cheap and unwelcome because we get that same message over and over but all it comes off as is a scare tactic. And a scare tactic is a terrible way to start a relationship founded on love. On the other side, there is an invitation to join in.

Read the words of Jesus that Luke provides:

Luke 22:15-20

"I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God." Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said, "Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and give it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."

There is an earnest desire from Jesus to share in this meal with the disciples. 

When Jesus sits down with the disciples for the Passover meal, he does it with intention, because this may be the last meal he shares with them. What I love so much about this meal is that the people that Jesus so eagerly desires to share it with are broken, hopeless, poor, wandering, untrustworthy, fearful, unworthy.
In other words,

they look a lot like the people both inside and outside the church. 

They are the kind of folks that God desperately wants to be in a relationship with, and their brokenness, their failures, their anger, their mistrust, are all welcome to the table. Remember, at this point in the story these people that Jesus is so eager to love and eat with are about to betray him, run from him, pretend like they have no clue who he is. And still, he wants to be with them. They don't have to be perfect, polished, deserving. They don't have to fit the form. They don't have to look anything like what we might associate with "holy" or "good" because God has already said that they are.
What Jesus tells the disciples in this meal is not that they are damned if they don't shape up, Jesus doesn't warn them about the lack of Capt'n Crunch in hell, but demonstrates that God's love is so relentless that even after all they've done and all they're about to do, God will continue to pursue them. God actually likes these people.
I imagine that the disciples probably had some less than perfect thoughts and prayers after Jesus was killed. What would it look like for us to be honest about our prayer? What would we say to God if we were authentic about who we are and where we're at? What would people say about us if we let our guard down and showed off our less polished self to the world? (They probably wouldn't say much that was good) but what would they say about God? (Probably a lot of truth)

What would the world be like if Christians were common people who relate to God with "Uncommon" prayer.

1. Sugary Cereal photo from TheAtlantic.com

The Risks We Take

One issue that has weighed heavily on my heart recently is that of accountability.
What do we require?
What is required of us?
In the priesthood of all believers we are all called to be representatives for Christ in the world.
So what does God require?

So often it seems as though we are unwilling to deal with the difficult tasks before us.
We try to push the problem off,
onto someone else,
further down the road,
away from where we are.
More often than not we use our religion as a crutch.
We use our churches as barricades,
walling ourselves in
and actively working to keep those who do not resemble us

Out.

The other day I was reading an article that described the business practices of the bulk goods store: Costco.
The purpose of the article was to talk about the stark difference in business practices between Costco and their largest competitor, Walmart.
Apparently, Costco has become known as a company that is significantly more friendly to its employees than most other big chains.
Their average pay is higher,
their health insurance plans are generally better,
and their average worker turn-over is significantly lower.
What surprised me about the article was what some analysts have begrudgingly said about their business practices:

It's better to be an employee than a shareholder.

Now I don't know who the analyst is that made that statement,
nor do I know their convictions or their faith.
So my thoughts about it are not directed at them.
However,
it does make me wonder what the Christian response should be.
What the response of the priesthood of all believers should be.

That one analysts's statement brings to mind a few others:
Proverbs 16:19
Better to be lowly in spirit along with the oppressed than to share plunder with the proud.
Psalm 84:10b
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.

This is the disconnect for me. Something about that analysts's statement doesn't sit right in the light of these texts. It doesn't fit.
The message coming from the biblical texts is one that subverts our understanding of what positions of honor or respect look like. These biblical texts subvert what we might think is owed to us.


James Cone, in his work "Risks of Faith" asks an important question:
"Whose Earth Is It, Anyway?"
His response is Psalm 24: "The earth is the Lord's and all that is in it."
All of creation belongs to God.
That means that everything from the air we breath,
to the molten core of the planet,
to the germs that inhabit our bodies,
to the very next person we meet,
and even we belong to God.
Cone argues that we are held accountable by God in what we do with that.
Do we really listen to our sisters and brothers who look different from us?
Who think differently?
Who were brought up on the other side of town?
In my denomination there are people of many backgrounds,
from countries around the world.
And yet,
in the U.S. 93% of the church is white.
Do we really know our sisters and brothers who are different?
In talking about the Youth Lounge program at Broadway United Methodist Church in Chicago, Pastor Lois McCullen Parr describes what it's like to run a program that feeds and provides a "hang-out" space  in the church for 50-70 LGBTQ youth, many of who are without a home, two Saturdays a month.
When asked why other organizations aren't running the same program she says:

"The way we operate is, some people would say, risky. We don't have rules published at the door. We don't make people show us an ID or leave their bags anywhere. Some people would say: You're asking for trouble."-1 Windy City Times

But she also says that taking that risk is worth it because, "when you treat people with love and respect, they respond, and they rise to the occasion."-2 Windy City Times 


Rudy Rasmus outlines the Apostle Paul's understanding of accountability in his book "Touch."
He says there are three big points for Paul:
Attitude,
Activism,
And Authority.
Attitude is exemplified in Paul's instruction to be humble as modeled after the life of Jesus.
Humility is the surrendering of oneself in belonging to God.
Humility is coming to be committed to belonging to God.
Activism comes from the actual work of Jesus, in loving all that we encounter.
Activism is what we choose to do with our faith, how we live into our belonging to God.
Authority is what comes from the Holy Spirit.
The Spirit of God gives us the power that is necessary to be servants,
to care more for another than our own profit.

Rasmus says: "I warn people that following Christ might make their lives more complicated--at least for a while."(p.121)
There are risks to following Jesus,
because in doing so we render ourselves accountable to God and to all of creation.
When creation groans, we groan.
When we shut out others, we shut out ourselves.
When we put our profit margins above creation, we put wealth above God.
Following Christ is not easy because following Christ isn't about "me",
or what "I" want.
Following Christ is not easy because it doesn't fit neatly into a market or a government.
Following Christ requires taking risk,
being bold.
Following Christ is giving more than we've got,
receiving more than we can handle,
loving when we don't feel it,
hoping when we can't see it,
praying when there are no words,
and speaking truth even when it comes at a great personal cost.
What does God require of you?

Who will you actively love?
What pain will you heal?
How much will you surrender to follow Christ?


What risks will you take?



1 & 2. Erica Demarest. "Lakeview pastor talks 'love work' LGBTQ Youth Series from Windy City Times" Windy City Times 11 Nov. 2012

Prayers for the City

In the coming weeks, Motown Mission's website will be releasing an art project that is the symbol of all of the work our volunteers have been doing this summer. At the end of each week, we ask the groups to join into a collage of prayer. When they are all done, their prayers make up a house, a symbol of the work that they've done. On the site, we've compiled many of these prayers into a virtual collage.

Check it out here

Each prayer represents a hope for the future of the city, the individual, and the love that God brings to the world. Many have brought insight and inspiration to my life, and so I've compiled a few for you. The following is a look at some of my favorites:
---------------
"Dear heavenly father, this trip has reminded me of why I became a part of this church. I know now that I can’t do it without you because I’ve tried and it never worked. Lord I thank you for this week, it really refreshed my faith. “when the world hates you, remember that it has hated me first"

"I pray that the hope we have ignited burns long after we leave... and the change in our hearts spreads awareness of those who need us to be God's hands and feet"

"Father, your children here are hurting. Let them feel your presence surround them and your love hold them. Give them the ability to hold onto hope of a future better than they have dreamed. Christ have mercy."

"Just Peace and Love."

"I pray for Detroit. I pray for all the lives we touched this week. But I also pray for the lives here we did not get the chance to touch. I pray that their lived will be touched soon. Changes are being made. I pray things keep changing. I pray for each child and parent we helped by making it safer. I pray for all the things that got done and also all those that didn't That they will be done soon. You are changing things. Thank you."

"Thank you for the unity of Spirit that took place with the team."

"Lord, pour out grace and healing upon Detroit."

"Holy Spirit, restore the city to its place of prosperity, that the glory of the Lord falls upon us. Lord break the spirit of poverty, fear and shame within its walls."

"Lord, use the Church to bring your light into the darkness."

"Thank you for this week. You have been doing so much in this city and love this city. Thank you for putting it on the hearts of those in charge to put on this trip so we can visibly see what difference one person can do. We were able to be your hands and feet, serving others. It didn't seem like much work for us - but to those living in the neighborhood it made a difference and brought hope. Thank you for Brick. For his sister and family - for the refreshment we were able to bring them in simply cleaning a yard. Let him know you through that. He saw you though us. Thank you that we were able to be You to him. Thank you for our group who came, for those who grew this week and know you more because of it. Let us not forget what we have learned and experienced this week."

"Lord, a house is broken, a house is in disrepair, a house is ugly. Your love, Your servants changed a house that's fixed, a house repaired, a house that is beautiful. Your love changed our hearts, your love changed the hearts of those with the house, Your love made a garden grow without weeds, your love made people happy and gave them hope."

"Here in Detroit there are wounds, deep cuts that are leaving deep scars. So even though I believe that we touched so many people in this week, all of the people need assistance not just a select few. So please God love these people and send them your strength, so it will help heal this city. This city is all so filled with hopeful people. Please give them courage. Love. Love. Love."

"Help us to remember that through you, we can be the hands and feet, the light and hope for a world in need. Give us the courage and strength to stand up to and fight injustice wherever we might find it."

"I pray people realize how beautiful the city of Detroit is already, and how wonderful it can be."

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace - let me be an answer to someone's prayers, as Detroit has been to mine."

"Your love is all we need to change a life. Thank you Lord for Your abundant love."

"I pray for great communities, strong families and places of love and safety."

"Every kid in this city has a place to come 'home'"

"Detroit is Your city and thank for reminding me it's my city too! When we work with you we can make a difference in a big problem. Help is to keep making a difference and help everyone living here to have hope and have your love and peace guide them."

"I pray that the joy I saw in the people of Detroit will be contagious; that it will spread throughout the neighborhoods and among the people, young and old. I pray they will have hope. Enough to take action to carry on the work I now have to leave. I pray for an army of joyful, hopeful people who are energized to recreate this beautiful city - and make it better than its ever been."

-------------
I want to thank each and every person who has been a part of Motown Mission this summer. Your work and love has made a tremendous difference in the lives of so many people. We all hunger for to be closer to one another, to something or someone that can anchor us in when the world seems to slip away. By participating in Motown Mission, you become that anchor for someone else, a beacon of light to the love of God. I can only hope that ministries like this will continue to grow and foster real relationships with God out of love and bravery through the abundant need of God's people.

Set Free

For so many people around the world the standard of living in the United States is an unobtainable goal. This shouldn't be too surprising, especially when we tend to think of starving children on the streets of Kenya, beggars lining the walkways of India, the shanty towns of Peru, and small fledgling villages in the heights of Katmandu, when we hear about folks who can't afford to be American. What tends not to cross most folks minds is that the standard of living of the United States is unobtainable in many places WITHIN the United States. All across the nation, in every city, there undoubtably exists a population that is beyond the brink. In the city of Detroit, this is true for so many, and the thing that always gets me is that it doesn’t have to be that way.

When banks foreclose most of your neighborhood, you are left with depreciating property value. As homes are foreclosed, the rate of crime, poverty, illness, poor nutrition, and death, increase. When banks refuse to lend to perfectly qualified folks in your neighborhood, you are left with an ever increasing rate of foreclosure and abandonment, and the cycle continues. That’s what I find so ridiculous about folks who believe that poverty, crime, and illness are endemic. For some people, that may be true, but to the vast majority of folks who find themselves left out, they are left with no choices. There are more than a few people I know of that have suggested that the best way to “solve” the poverty problem, in the United States, is to simply remove or “eradicate” all of the nation’s poor. This follows the same logic as some other folks who suggested that the best way to cure the AIDS epidemic was to round up all of the victims and separate them from the rest of society until they died off. This line of reasoning denies the possibility that there may, in fact, be something wrong with the way the problem is treated from the very beginning.

Most debates I have ever listened to, about who/what is right and who/what is wrong, ignore the one constant for all time; the past. I have friends who would say that many of the homeless I had worked with two years ago, were products of their own err. During that same time I had colleagues who were working with elementary aged kids in another part of the city. Several of their kids came from single parent homes, where their mother/father had abandoned them and whose remaining parent was a drug addict. The area is so poor that the existing school system is 20 years behind the one I was brought up in. The kids live off of a diet of highly processed food, with little to no fresh foods. Their parents are mostly out of work, so there is little money to buy much of anything as it is. One of the kids had become addicted to meth. He was 10 years old. When he grows up and walks into the office I used to work in and sits down with someone to talk about his needs, what would my friends say about him? Is he the product of his own err? Did he have a choice? 

The biggest conundrum that I think we will someday find ourselves in, is reconciling the benefits gained by some, through the losses of others. I may not be an active participant in what happened to that kid, but because I do nothing to stop it, and that I benefit from it, means that I passively accept it. Life inside the system is a life of either active or passive participation in other people’s oppression. Life outside of the system that so many American’s enjoy is a life of resistance. It is resisting the pressures to fail, the pressures to give up and quit. For far too many, there is no way of getting in. Once you’re out you’re out, even if that means you were born out. Every day is a struggle to see how you fit in the world. Every day is a test of your will to stay afloat. Every time you lose your job, or your kid’s school closes, it is a trail by fire. That is why every day that ministries like Motown Mission and JSCDC send people out to work, there is victory. Every day that someone is able to keep their home, who is on the brink, there is victory. Every time a neighbor mows the lawn in the vacant lot next door, or replaces a boarded window on a foreclosed home, there is victory. Every time the farmers market sells out of produce, there is victory. Every family that manages to stay together, there is victory. Every child that graduates high school, there is victory. And every time there is victory, the chains forced upon someone by the world around them are loosed, and every victory brings us all one step closer to being set free.

Witness

You can drive down any block in the neighborhood that I work in and find a mixed bag. The average block has about 6 abandoned/foreclosed/burnt-out houses for every twenty that exist. Some have far more, some have far less. The Cody-Rouge neighborhood is on the West side of Detroit, just south of Brightmoor and just north of Dearborn. The average income is around $5,000, and the state of the economy and rate of joblessness isn’t helping. The stories that I hear from folks are all the same: “We were doing fine, but now that I’ve lost my job, I’ve got no where to go. We’re stuck, and the bills and repairs keep piling up.”

Cody-Rouge is a neighborhood that is struggling to keep its head above water. The good news is that it is succeeding, but not without its share of struggles. The other day I sat down in the JSCDC office to review applications for the next week’s projects. One of the hardest parts about the work I’m doing right now is that there are so few funds to spread around. When I looked through the enormous stack of applications I was overwhelmed with the size of many of the projects. My job was to pick a few that a group of unskilled volunteers could work on, that could be priced out at around $500 a project. Unfortunately, most of the projects required massive roof work, or plumbing, or electrical. The roof work is incredibly expensive and the plumbing and electrical require skilled labor. Many of the applicants will be left waiting until those gaps can be filled. This was the first time I was able to actually take a look at this seasons applications since I started working for Motown Mission in June. I knew the need had been great, but I was finding myself overwhelmed with the information in front of me. Each application is filled out by hand, so each one is incredibly personal. There is a lot you can tell about a person from the way they write, what they ask for, and how they ask for it. Each application is a hope, a prayer, a chance at a better reality. Each application represents a real person, who had committed the unforgivable crime of falling on hard times, only to look up and find no one there to help out. JSCDC is often a last line of defense in some parts of the neighborhood, the only barrier that is left between a real community and an abandoned section of city property. 

That’s why the work that the volunteers do here is so important. Every day that they are out working, breathes new life into the community. Every day that they are mowing a lawn, painting a house, playing with some kids, mortaring new front steps, painting a swing set, praying with a homeowner, planting some corn, or trimming an overgrown bush, awakens neighbors to the realization that there is something about this community worth saving, worth fighting for. Just today while the group was sitting out in front of the house, taking lunch, three different folks walked or drove by and thanked us for the work we were doing, saying how much they appreciated the difference we were making.

Part of my job over the next few weeks will be to review how we can improve over the next couple of years and help connect those folks with some greater needs to some folks with great heart. As we finish up this summer, the pile of applications still exists, and it keeps growing. But the neighborhood has come alive, and for every application that comes in, more hands from around the block come out to help. If that isn’t the power of the witness of God at work, then I don’t know what is.