Heading into Advent

I've had the luck of joining a merry band of craft artists who spend Advent slowing down to make art for the public sphere.  Last night, the first bike tyre-star was delicately placed in a tree, and I'm honoured to be the 'artist' who made it!

See our reflections throughout the month at chatsstars.blogspot.com!

Food and Faith

Again, I'm passing on something pre-written for a service with our church here in Hackney. We've had three wonderful Sundays of looking at the intersections of food and faith, talking and eating together around tables. As our housemate, Rod, pointed out, it's worship involving all the senses... We touch one another when "passing the peace", we listen to one another's stories and the melodies of our songs, we smell and taste foods and drinks, and, of course, we're doing it all together, so we see one another's emotions and reactions.

Today was Remembrance Sunday, which is traditionally the (wider) Church's day to commemorate British lives lost in wars. You may have seen the red poppies around the Tower of London -- this is all part of remembering Armistice Day on 11 November.

This is our third Sunday of talking about Food and Faith together. At the first Sunday in July, we heard three stories in the Bible where food played a very important role – the Creation story, the story of David and King Nebuchadnezzar, and Jesus telling the parable about the sower. In September, we used a passage from Romans and talked with one another about how we can use and eat food to the Glory of God. This is our last Sunday in the series (unless there is popular demand for it to return), and it is also Remembrance Sunday.

It’s not without some fear and trembling that I’m up here this morning. All around the UK, churches are pulling out all the stops for Remembrance Sunday with red poppies and old hymns and “God Save the Queen” … And here I am, a pacifist by upbringing and by choice, leading worship on Remembrance Sunday.

When we were in the States, visiting friends and speaking at churches, we often heard, “You haven’t picked up the accent!” To which we normally replied, “I’m not sure which one I would have picked up…having lived and worked with people with a very wide range of accents.”

And I think this reality of being a part of a multi-cultural church (not to mention, a multi-cultural community house) gives me just the right amount of confidence to stand up here this morning, leading a Remembrance service that involves people of all accents, all ages, and all sorts of stories.

From my perspective as an outsider among outsiders, the diversity here changes the conversation, from one charged with patriotism and Queen and Country, to sharing a day of truly recalling, remembering with our senses how war and violence can leave marks for generations.

Rather than focusing on our shared and varying degrees of “British-ness”, when we talk about who we are and what defines us, I hope that we start by saying we’re trying to follow Christ. In following Christ, it doesn’t matter what country we live in, what language we speak, the tones of our skin – those things might define us outwardly, but not inwardly.

There’s a poster that we grew up with a statement coined by a Mennonite guy, saying, “Let the
Christians of the world agree to not kill one another.” The idea was to start with what seems like a basic idea: Let the Christians of the world agree to remember one another’s humanity. If we can do this, given that a third of the world is Christian, we’ve got a good start.

Inspired by this basic idea, for our Remembrance Sunday, we will remember areas in the world where there is violence and conflict today. And we will remember Christians in these areas, with whom we share a common memory: Communion. We share the meal which is done in remembrance of Jesus. In essence, we will remember the body of Christ through eating little bites together, and we are remembering the body of Christ that is our brothers and sisters around the world. It is in a moment sacrament and solidarity. We remember Christ, and we remember Christians around the world.

We then heard the following short reflections, and ate little bites of food together. Following each reflection, there was time for discussion around tables of 5-8 persons, including children.

1. We remember immigrants who are crossing borders, seeking secure futures, and who sometimes experience xenophobia and violence along the way: from the thousands who journey through Central America to the border at Mexico and the U.S., to the thousands who venture from many areas around the world into the UK. In particular, we remember the Christians who are on a journey, looking for a new start in new places.

Take these corn chips and hot chocolate, and remember the wayfarers that Jesus travels beside. Eat and drink in remembrance of immigrants.

2. We remember the children around the world who are trapped in the middle of armed conflict. We remember their innocence and their vulnerability. They did not choose to whom they would be born, which side of the wall they would grow up on, or whether there would be access to medicine they need when war has taken away the hospitals. We remember the children who will be dreamers, peace makers, artists, politicians and doctors, even when their childhood environment didn’t supply their most basic needs for safety and security.

Take these crackers and these grapes, and remember the children Jesus called to him. Eat in remembrance of them.

3. We remember Christians who are minorities in their contexts, who struggle to practice their faith. We remember the hundreds of thousands of Christians who have fled from their homes in Iraq, where in Nineveh, one priest reported in September that because of recent persecution, Christians were unable to gather and celebrate Communion together…though it’s been celebrated there continuously for the last 2000 years.


Take this khubz and these dates, and remember the Christian refugees and martyrs with whom Jesus shares a story. Eat in remembrance of them. 

Revisiting Hospitality

The following is something I wrote for part of our contribution to Akron Mennonite's (PA) Mission Festival Weekend last month.  It was preceded by a time of discussing hospitality (core components of, fears of, experiences of receiving) in small groups, of which you'll see some mention.  What I said then was just a brief stab at exploring communal Christian worship as both training and application for hospitality.

Hospitality has become a corporate word, fueling the profits of an entire industry.   Tonight, as we look at what hospitality might mean in our context, I would suggest a new approach.  The word Hospitality doesn’t need a re-inventing, but could be stripped-down and humbled; disrobed of its elite status.  And it seems to me that our Sunday morning worship services are a great place to start to look at the foundations of Christian hospitality.  Our worship and communing together can become a spiritual classroom where we continually develop our capacity for hospitality that we hope to integrate in all parts of our life.

I often lead worship at our church, and a book I’ve been reading recently has given me a bit more of a foothold on first of all, understanding my role as worship leader.  The book is called "The Art of Curating Worship" and the title gives you a good idea the basic premise the author is writing about.  Worship leaders and the teams that plan worship, if they’re doing their job, are facilitating a space for the congregation to experience the Holy Spirit…through music, liturgy, prayer, silence.  We use different mediums, because basically, you’re allowing a bunch of people who all have different experiences/expectations to engage as they feel led.  (like hosting a dinner party where all the guests had different dietary needs…and you’re cooking.)

Part of why we brought up the question of remembering times you were hosted is that, while Sunday  mornings might seem fairly inactive or mundane, all quiet and subdued, the congregation actually has a huge role during communal worship.  The role of the people showing up is to, hopefully, come expecting to meet God/Spirit – like a host would anticipate a guest showing up -- and what a worship leader/team should do is essentially invite the congregation to extend that invitation to the Spirit.  In this sense, there’s a lot of hospitality swirling during the worship service.

Then there’s the Spirit, who can be a very unnerving guest indeed…The spirit can bring refreshment and peace; healing and fulfillment; and sometimes the Spirit brings a challenge that stirs us up and makes us a bit crazy.

Worshipping as a community, I think, should be the source of inspiration for humble, grace-driven hospitality that we take out of the pews into the halls and out to the streets, in both our attitudes on hosting and being hosted.

Hospitality is not something we achieve or perfect, but something that we hope for; something that we have faith that we are practicing with our whole selves as individuals and a community.

To close, we’re going to sing a song that you know well, and that acts as an invitation to the Holy Spirit.  If we think again about the story of the Good Samaritan, putting ourselves in the shoes of the man by the road, I see this song showing us that the Holy Spirit acts as our host, taking care of us when we least expect it and when we most need it, and the song uses language that implies we’re the ones inviting the Holy Spirit to the party.   It’s also a bit confusing as to who is host and who is being hosted, but that’s the beauty of hospitality, and Spirit-based hospitality is often a beautiful mess.  Thank God, because we are beautiful messes to begin with.

image source: http://www.textweek.com/images/widetable.jpg

Holy Spirit, come with power,
breathe into our aching night.
We expect you this glad hour,
waiting for your strength and light.
We are fearful, we are ailing,
we are weak and selfish too.   

Break upon your congregation,
give us vigor, life anew. 

Heading Back - October update

We head back to the UK today after a month's visit to friends, family, and churches in the US.  We were here primarily to renew our work visas, which have come through successfully (obviously!).  It has been an amazing month, full of moments which we will cherish for a long time!

At my parents' home in Virginia, we relished being in a rural setting for two weeks, taking walks, working in the garden and woods, and enjoying a bonfire with my entire family.  We don't often get such extended experiences of solitude and silence in London, so I, for one, soaked it up!

Thoughts on a bridge.

In Pennsylvania, we had been invited to be part of Akron Mennonite Church's Mission Festival Weekend, speaking as "practitioners" of hospitality in a Post-Christendom context.  Our planning and speaking, alongside the feedback from the congregation, was very affirming, yet challenging.  Where does one start?

Justin enjoys his "butterfly" potato chips, topped with nacho "cheese" at the Applebutter Festival in WV.

We are so grateful to have had this time in the States, but we look forward to continuing our work in London.  More updates soon.

August Newsletter

Click on the images to read a larger version of our most recent newsletter!

Book list

We've just gotten back from Greenbelt, a festival featuring some stellar progressive Christian speakers, artists, and musicians.  I've come back with a bit of a wish list for books, and am excited about putting in an order.

Some I'm planning on getting include...and, no, not intentional that 3 of the of the 4 are women from the States.

Snake Oil by Becca Stevens - I went to three sessions that Becca led, as well as the Communion which she co-led with Mpho Tutu, Desmond Tutu's daughter.  I highly recommend a visit to the website of Thistle Farms, a social enterprise that Becca started, and maybe you might find something worth investing in... :)

Cranky, Beautiful Faith by Nadia Bolz-Weber - While it got a little boring being told how crazy and tattooed she was (see cover if you don't believe me), in general, Nadia had some down-to-earth views on church and community.  We especially enjoyed her session co-led with Sara Miles on the "Inconvenience of Other People"... something which is hard for most churches to deal with, from my experience...not to mention that it's a challenge for me, too.

Take this Bread by Sara Miles - For all the arguing about whether to support an "open table" or not, Sara Miles told her story from atheism to faith because she showed up at a church one day when Communion was offered for all.  She spoke about the Eucharist as someone who had to deconstruct it to understand it, which is a very helpful view for those of us born into the tradition who don't often have a second thought about what it looks like to an outsider.

The Art of Curating Worship by Mark Pierson -- As far as I know, this guy wasn't at Greenbelt, but the book caught my eye in the book tent.  Over the last few months, we've been having conversations at CPURC around worship leader empowerment, and I continue to think our worship has the potential to be even more authentic and meaningful if we dig further in...if we encourage those leading worship to take the planning more seriously (not that the leading has to be serious.)  After reading just a few pages, I couldn't help but think that this book has some promising bits for our context.

Imagination for Peace

Violence is all over the news right now -- and usually is.  Some incidents seem more senseless than others, and I think we react more strongly when we don't understand or can't comprehend the motives or reason behind it all.

This morning, Justin led the Quiet Garden time at the manse, choosing several poems which spoke of God in nature, of stillness, and of natural beauty.  One poem, known by many, is Mary Oliver's Wild Geese.  Towards the end of the poem, a line reads, "Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination."

That line struck me in particular, as I've been musing this week over the turmoil in the Middle East, in Ukraine, on the US/Mexico border...And I wonder if, perhaps, violence often comes about because we have forgotten to use our imaginations -- we have reduced ourselves to less than what we were created to be.

In conflicts between Jews and Muslims (with Christians scattered in there, too), when does the imagination or inspiration kick in, that they realise they believe in the same Creator God (even if "things went wrong" further down the development of a particular religion, or we call that God by different names)?  Creator God made space in creation for diversity -- we see it across the natural world.

Violence can often be perpetrated in words, and again, I experience that as a lack of imagination.  When I worked in the public school system, one of my colleagues impressed upon the students that using "bad" words was easy, and got some point across, but that it really demonstrated a lack of imagination.  Coarse language might achieve an immediate, entertaining effect, but doesn't imagine that there's any way to better the situation.  Imaginative language humanises and can change minds.

And physical violence...Why do we only put our imagination to use in creating more 'effective' bombs, fighter planes, weapons?  God's gift of imagination isn't, I think, meant to destroy God's creation; rather, it's meant to enhance our experience of God.

It's been awhile since I've read it, but The Moral Imagination came to mind as an example of how we can think bigger and better, and the incredible, life-giving things that can happen when we do.

I leave you with my scattered thoughts and the entirety of Mary Oliver's poem:

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhil the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - 

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

As of late...

Life has almost been too busy to stop and reflect in the last month or so.  First, as I wrote in the last post, there was the Youth Service which took a lot of time (and some recovery from). 

Then, last minute planning and prep kicked into high gear for our Church Weekend Away.  For the past 10 years or so, the church has gone to Othona, which is apparently a bit like Iona, in that it's a community set up around an ancient Christian worship site.  The chapel there, St. Peter-on-the-wall, was built nearly 1400 years ago -- a staggering number for those of us, particularly in the States, whose oldest buildings (of the white, Christian world) are only a couple hundred years at best.  (There are some buildings, of course, in the States like Taos Pueblo, which are dated back 1000 years...which is mind-blowing as well.)

Othona is at the end of the road, next to the Thames Estuary (a.k.a. "the sea").  It's a quiet place with unassuming beauty, and it was a treat to soak up the dark, silent nights.  Justin says that there's something about what a person experienced early in their lives as to how they best fall asleep -- for me, a country girl, getting the opportunity to sleep in deep dark and quiet is optimal, I guess :)

Photo of the chapel by David Jacobs from bradwellchapel.org

Sandwiched in between the busy events are the various sporting events that I watch by proxy.  World Cup football/soccer, the Tour de France as it whizzed by us in east London via the Olympic Park, Wimbledon, and motor sports.  Sometimes I think it's Justin's part-time job to keep up with all the sport happenings....

Watching the Tour whizzzzz by in a matter of seconds ... after waiting for hours.

And we've been incredibly blessed the last couple weeks to have a variety of friends and supporters from home visit us.  It helps us slow down when we have visitors around.  And the icing on the cake is that we have the much-anticipated treat of Justin's parents and friends here this weekend.   After having a relatively dry and warm summer, it looks like they'll arrive at just the right time to experience a true London forecast full of rain, rain, and more rain.  That shan't dampen our spirits!

Update!

Wow...time for an update, apparently!  Sorry for the lull, but that is life from time to time! :)

We do occasionally put pictures up on our Facebook page, and you should be able to see them here.

Many of you are probably aware that we're heading into a bit of a shift with our work, particularly for Justin.  For the better part of our time here, Justin has been working in the church office in an administrative post, while the manager was away on maternity leave (a woman can have up to a year here!  Amazing!)  As the manager has now returned, Justin has made the exit from everyday life in the office and is slowly finding new avenues to focus the rest of his time here.

My work continues in similar veins to what I've been doing since we arrived.  I help with the Sunday worship at least once a month, including occasionally with our all-age service.  For those who might have no clue what an "all-age" service entails (because aren't all services supposed to be somewhat "all-age," you may be thinking...), I'll tell you a little bit about our service yesterday.

Somewhere I got the idea that our small youth group could put together a Sunday morning service within our "all-age" format.  The basics of that format would mean either a very short sermon or no sermon at all, and instead, having a chance to interact with different themes of the scripture for that morning.  Typically, the interaction takes place at different stations -- sometimes creative, sometimes contemplative, sometimes just conversation.  We would still start the service with prayers and singing, reading a scripture or two, and might have some sharing or reflection after the interactive stations, and then finish with more prayers and songs and the blessing.

Yesterday, as it was Pentecost, there was extra exciting ground to cover, and the youth did fantastically.  The two main pieces of the service that were stellar were first, putting on an all-age and multi-voiced drama that the entire church was involved in (and the youth wrote and directed!!!), and second, having three stations to visit.

The drama was a slightly modified (and modernized) version of the Pentecost story, with four groups:  the disciples, the crowd, the voice(s) of the prophet Joel, and the very necessary sound/visual effects crew.  Each youth directed one of the groups, praticing for a short while, and then coming and performing it all together.  Every single person in the congregation had a part -- if not speaking, then making wind noises or rippling yellow fabric over the disciples' heads as "flames."  How often can we say that 100% of a congregation speaks during a church service?  (Of course, we gave the option for anyone to sit out if they didn't feel comfortable.)

The stations then were: inviting people to translate part of the song, "We Are One in the Spirit," into their native languages or second languages, decorating cupcakes to celebrate the "birthday" of the church, and a secluded table with Bibles and finger prayer labyrinths for persons who preferred to contemplate the Pentecost story.  The congregants are invited to go to one or all of the stations as they desire, spending as much time at each as they like.  There are, usually, a few people who prefer just to stay in their seats and chat with others around them, and that's okay, too.  It's all church, and it's all building up the body! :)

These all-age services can be hit-or-miss for some who prefer to be fed with a sermon every week, or for newcomers or outsiders who feel a bit overwhelmed by the energy needed to participate in such a service.  And, as facilitators, we have to be very sensitive to that exclusivity, while realising that sometimes being exclusive means our own group grows stronger.  It is a tension to be balanced!

So, that's just a little insight into our lives right now!  Busy, but still challenging!

Community Meal

It's time to take a break from fevered knitting for my next yarn bombing.  I've had a couple blog ideas rolling around the last couple weeks, and those ideas coupled with a little bit of guilt for not being more proactive in writing mean I am finally sitting down to write!

We've just had the pleasure of having one of my brothers and his family here for a stay, which means that pictures actually were taken which will help illustrate a few things.

What I want to write about today is a topic that I've probably mentioned on here before:  our church's monthly Community Meal.  On the last Thursday of every month, a group of us cook a big meal that is open to whomever walks in the door.  The meal, which started 17 years ago, has apparently gone through many phases, but the core value has remained the same:  open the doors to the church and have a cheap meal with neighbours.  We all know food brings people together.

I was so excited to get plugged into this outreach when we arrived in London -- many of you know that I like cooking and baking, especially in large quantities.  I have not been disappointed in the opportunity to cook in the spacious church kitchen and know that (usually) if you make it, they will come.

Usually, at some point during the meal, a box is taken around by one of the youth to collect donations to help cover the costs of the meal.  We typically ask adults to contribute £2 per meal.  Sometimes people put in more, sometimes people put in nothing.  Most months, all of our costs are covered, and we have the capital to purchase food for the next month. 

This month, however, we put the box out with the food -- unintentionally, perhaps, making the donation-giving even more anonymous (assuming that the kids who normally take it around aren't keeping track of what people put in.)  We came out even further ahead than normal, and it reminded me very much of the dream I've had over nearly the last decade of having a pay-what-you-will cafe.  (Yes, I'm aware that many already exist.)  And I realised that this is basically what we are doing, though on a more industrial scale (feeding between 60-80 people on an average month lately, though sometimes up to 100+), and on a very set occasion (1x a month).  But, coming to that realisation that I'm living a variation on my long-held dream was and is incredibly rewarding.  Sometimes we don't see that the things we had planned long and hard for and thought we had to put off for a time, end up happening in their own way and time.

This is not to say that I hereby relinquish my hopes of having a 5-day-a-week food establishment at some point in my life -- but, rather, here I am, seeing proof that these schemes do work, and that making good food for people can inspire neighbourly generosity.

Dancin'!

I had to share this fun evening we had on Friday, supporting a friend who is going to Rio to volunteer with the Street Child World Cup.  What we in the U.S. might call a "barn dance" is more often referred to as a ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee).  I didn't get the info on if there are always stage lights and such, but, really, a great time!

Justin worked on the bar for the evening, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and I womanned the food side (though I didn't make it all!)  So much fun to watch, and I look forward to finding another one that we can just go and enjoy! :)

Coming up this week, a visit from one of my brothers, his wife, and their son whom I've not yet met!  This spring is busy with full and fun times for us!

A piece of our work

Community work is so incredibly open-ended that I've felt very comfortable calling my time spent on crocheting and knitting for various projects "Work."  Like some qualitative jobs, I have to be content with never knowing how my "Work" is received, and whether or not it gains the desired affect.

Last Friday, Valentine's Day, I hit out early to randomly pepper our neighbourhood with pieces of my "Work" -- specifically small crocheted hearts with a tag saying, "you are loved" on each one.  In walking around later that day, and in the days since, I haven't seen a single one still out where I put them, which, I think, means we can safely assume that at least a few went to good homes.  But, really, I'll never know.

Still here, still scheming

In winter, a woman's thoughts turn to keeping warm and dreaming about the spring.  At least, mine do.  In my case, that means a mixture of making things (be it crocheted granny squares or fig and almond biscotti...), and trying to think how they might be used in a more public sense once we've all come out of our shells.

I've been inspired by three things lately, which have fed into my scheming.

The first is coming across the founder of the Craftivist Collective and taking a workshop with her to learn about more the craftivist idea (the melding of craft and activism) and to explore my own "footprint" as I dream about a more equal world (and my place in it).

The second was a Christmas gift from a friend -- the River Cottage Veg cookbook.  While you would often find me in the kitchen anyway, I go through long phases of cooking where I don't use recipes, and frankly, it makes the menu-planning process so much easier when you've got a book in front of you with convincing photos.  It's been a great resource for cooking for potlucks, cooking for when we have guests, cooking for others with new babies, etc.  It's inspired me/us to be even more excited about extending hospitality!

The third relates a little to the first: the aforementioned granny squares.  The truth is that I taught myself (thanks to the internet) last week how to crochet granny squares.  Ever since, I can't stop...Well, except yesterday when I didn't do any, but did manage to place an order for 2.2kg/nearly 5lbs worth of yarn.  This craftivism talk has gotten my mind thinking again to yarn bombing and thinking specifically of how to use yarn bombing to engage a little bit more in community, in addition to thinking about considering particular events to plan a yarn bombing around.  (I'm more than open to ideas and suggestions.)

Baby Investment.

Well, we've been on the MMN payroll for over a year now, and are just a few weeks short of a year on the ground in Hackney.  In typical bureaucratic fashion, that means we're starting (well, finishing, really) our annual reports, both reflecting back on 2013 and making (hopefully) reasonably-sized dreams for 2014.  Writing these is both easier and harder than what I imagined...But regardless, it helps to set the tone for a new year with a plan for a few new dreams.

Meanwhile, we remain very aware of our financial and prayer supporters back home...and not because they're peering over our shoulders, checking our receipts for how we're spending their generous donations. :)  Rather the opposite, really.

Many of you will know that this past Monday was Epiphany -- the day Christians celebrate the journey, visit, and gift of the three wise men to Jesus and his family.  Sunday evening, at our contemplative service at church, we took time to meditate on the extraordinary gifts the wise men brought, and the ordinary ways (the adult) Jesus gave to those around him.

A particular piece of the story of the wise men struck me.  One could surmise that this was a trip of a lifetime for the wise men.  There's no other mention of them in the New Testament, returning to meet the grown Jesus.  No, these men came when Jesus was very little, gave gifts of astounding financial worth, and then left for Joseph, Mary, and Jesus to get on with what they all needed to do.  The wise men invested in a baby.  (I'm guessing most financial advisers today would think this a preposterous idea.)

In a very similar way, we feel like there's a parallel here between Jesus' story and our own.  We have churches who have met us once, before we even left for England, and supported us willingly and generously.  People who barely know us invested in us and our work before we'd even proven we'd get a reasonable return.

Like Mary, we are humbled by that, and we treasure the gifts and prayers immensely.  And we hope we end up giving back even a smidgen of what we feel Jesus gave to the world when he was about our age, walking through the Middle East.

Thanks again for your support this last year!  We cannot say it enough.