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.