You Are Beautiful

Easter Sunday.  A remnant celebration of a subversive act in which systems were overthrown and a new uniqueness deliberately began.

In our own way, here in Clapton, we have overthrown complacency, dull grey skies, and privilege.  (We'd like to think so, anyway.)  We submit the evidence of our hours of loved-up labour, a bit of community organising, and the commitment to getting up very early to install under the cover of darkness some art-for-all.

 

We are the Peaceable Yarn Army.

(Unfortunately, at our arrival back home after church, we discovered one tree had already been rendered naked.  We are assuming it went to a home where it was needed.  Stay warm, friend, whoever you are!)

Therese. Some call her a saint. I think she looks fairly normal.

Therese of Lisieux.  Called a saint by the Catholics (and perhaps some others).  Known as the "Little Flower."  And I'm not sure how I feel about her.

Shortly after arriving here and being granted a library card, I checked out a biography about Little Miss Therese.  (Not trying to be sacreligious here -- just thought it sounded appropriate.)  Having some background on her from previous study and conversation, I knew the gist of her "mantra", if you will, which was, primarily, to be little or unknown.

So, I won't delve in too much to what I perceived as a sort of spiritual masochism (because, let's face it -- she lived during the height of the Victorian era...), but rather focus on perhaps the one bit of her life that, if taken with a grain of salt, might be useful (to me.)

Let's start with a simple situation.

As per their definition, cities are crowded places.  This means that there are a lot of people having to co-exist in a relatively small area.  For example, walking down the street, one typically attempts to move out of the way when another person is approaching from the opposite direction.  (In the States, that means you veer toward the right, typically.  Here, I'm not sure.  We try going to the left, but it doesn't seem to help.  This dilemma should probably wait for another entry.)  However, as I'm sure happens in most cities these days, a person cannot walk anywhere without having to dodge between and around other citizens who are fully engaged in their personal hand-held devices whilst also trying to get somewhere.  I cannot count the number of times I have been trying to get out of the way for these technozombies, and yet they still manage to practically run me over.

So, here's where Little Miss T comes in.  If she were still around today, I think her perception (in a slightly perverse way) would be that it was a gift that either a) she got plowed down by a technozombie, b) had to take 10 steps out of her way to allow for technozombie to pass, or c) that in her attempt to get out of the way of technozombie, she stepped into a busy street and got nicked by a double decker bus (and broke her arm.)  She would likely say that she counted this experience as joy, because she was made little or invisible.

This simple situation takes place daily in my life.  Truth be told, I might have let one or two people run into me, in a sort of "serves you right" mentality.  Then there are other times when I move out of the way when I just get peeved, but then feel a little guilty, because maybe I should count it as joy to be "serving" others by considering them to be the "least of these."

Maybe I'm taking this all too far and it's not really a spiritual matter.  Anyone have any thoughts?

Still In Awe

In the news this week…

I scheduled an appointment with our “GP” (general practitioner, or doctor) at our local NHS (National Health Services) surgery (office).  I’m a little excited to see what this social healthcare thing looks like, and to flash my special paper card with my special number on it and not have to pay a dime. 

At this month’s Community Meal at church, we had a great number of women and girls (and two grown men, one of whom was my husband) sitting around, knitting and crocheting, in preparation for next week’s yarn bombing.  Not sure how much actually got accomplished that will go toward the project, but it was fun to see, anyway.

After some deliberation, I wrote up a list of my current responsibilities in my work, and some potential responsibilities.  This came out of a sense of not knowing exactly what was expected of me, though I knew I had agreed to a good bit.  The clarity was helpful, especially as we’re settling into routines, and I have things I know I should be doing.  As I don’t have a particularly rigid schedule (10-5, like Justin has a couple days a week), it’s hard to know sometimes where to start … Working from home with non-tangible results is a big change for me.

It’s snowing right now.  What’s with this, England?  Apparently, this March has been unseasonably cold.  Not impressed, though life goes on, so whatever.

We still feel a sense of awe that we’re living in London.  Last night as we traveled home by bus after spending the evening with a church member, I caught myself in a sense having to process each storefront we passed.  Turkish delis, corner stores with food from Eastern Europe, lots of fried chicken places, Nigerian, Middle Eastern, Jamaican restaurants …all within a very short period on the bus.  Certainly, we’ve had similar exposure to such things in NYC, Philly, or D.C., but we’re living here and it’s awesome.  Granted, we don’t eat out much so it’s not like we’re gaining first hand experience on the plethora of food establishments, but simply that the option is there -- in most neighborhoods across the city – is the joy of the city, I suppose.  Then, of course, is the accessibility to ancient churches, museums, etc.  Don’t let us ever complain that we’re bored!

Church is work, man

Now past the monumental occasion of St. Patrick’s Day, we can get on with the rest of our work. 

That, of course, is a joke.  We did not venture to any pub, nor any other Irish-y event.  We spent the better portion of our day at church, engaged in two worship services and one business meeting.  I would say that we are holier-than-thou, but that probably goes without saying ;).

No, but really … I think I’ve been a bit amazed at how our work has shifted so dramatically to bookish, computerish things.  Coming out of work that revolved heavily around using my hands and my body, I anticipated some sort of change in what “work” would be here.  I am used to being able to quantify my work (20 dozen cookies? check! 120 cupcakes? check!), and now the only quantifying I can do is in relation to checking off how many emails I’ve sent or been sent in a day.  Additionally, our work centers around weekends now more than previously.  Saturdays and Sundays are our days on, and the days in the middle of the week are more likely to be slower and less packed.  You might be more likely to hear us say “thank goodness it’s Sunday evening!” rather than “TGIF.”

Our work, this past month and a half, has been mostly about showing up.  Showing up to worship, to meals, to meetings, to church events.  If it’s in the church bulletin, we will likely be there.  Not having a particularly church-based background (aside from Sunday mornings and maybe youth group once a week when I was younger), this is somewhat strange.  I don’t think it’s ever necessarily something we anticipated, but it is simply how the church operates. 

As I think back to the one other urban church I was a part of, I remember the unique perspective I gained – that, as many of us are not from here (London), we end up creating a sort of surrogate family for each other.  We are eager to welcome the stranger because we remember the experience ourselves of being the newcomer.  This is something that I think rural or suburban churches struggle with – again, in my experience, the more settled the community, the harder it is for an outsider to break in…especially into a faith community.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this all, but perhaps it’s a simple and quick reflection on our early work here:  we have been warmly (I would say almost HOTLY) welcomed into a place, and thrust into work that is, at its base, purely relational.  Yes, there are still budgets to balance, and duties to fill.  There are worries about the building structure and how to keep the youth in church.

But there is talking.  And, there is hope.  And our work for now is to listen, and to be instruments of that hope.  Not tangible, but as I must keep reminding myself, still meaningful.

Theology.

yarn-bombed light posts in Cambridge

In doing some research recently, I ran across the phrase “Contextual Theology.”  In its own context, this phrase denotes a graduate degree program that a person filling our role (as Community Hosts) may have taken.  In the United Reformed Church (URC), there are what we call Church Related Community Workers (CRCWs…gotta love all those churchy acronyms!), whose work is in community development, but within a church placement.  In other words, the denomination pays a trained CRCW to be in a particular community, and work in the community, but with theology as the base of their work.

Which brings us back to Contextual Theology.  Not quite as messy as “purposefully living out one’s faith in the pursuit of community development, social justice, and peace,” which is what one might say who is doing this work.

During this first month of being introduced to our new community, there is occasionally a sense that we are floundering or flailing our limbs, trying to find some ground from which to take off from.  These are the frustrating days, of feeling like we’re not accomplishing anything. 

But we’re also acutely aware that we don’t want to be like some short term “missionaries” who swoop into a place, see something that may or may not need to be fixed, and then leave, not watching as what they constructed crumbles behind in their dust of exit.  Our work is meant to be sustaining and sustainable, and it takes awhile to learn one’s context.

But this phrase, contextual theology, has given me a place to jump off.  It makes sense to see what themes are reoccurring in this community, and then to grapple with what our faith calls us to do.  We are (somewhat) painfully aware that we may only be here for three years, and that affects our dreaming and scheming.  The previous CRCW was at our church here in Hackney for 10 years, and it makes sense to hear how many connections he made, the initiatives he started, etc. 

So, perhaps we will plod on for awhile, occasionally catching a glimpse of what being faithful in this place and time means.  This is my hope, for now.

Video For Viewing

We've made a video for our EMS class...Most if it, you may know already, but a chance to see some things almost in the flesh.  (Justin went a little crazy making the video.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GtjW7NrwZYE

Coming soon: more stuff.