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.