Jim told me that’s Neil’s shoes were tattered and full of holes. To be honest, I was embarrassed that I didn't notice myself. It’s winter and raining a lot. How could I not notice? A few days later we went to see Neil with a pair of new shoes.

He was perched high above the street underneath an interstate overpass. Jim said, “That embankment is too steep for him to come down and I don’t think you can climb up there”. “What are you trying to say?” I asked (maybe I’m too old and fat for this?). “You don’t have the right kind of shoes” he replied. Jim would know. He’s an expert. Until a few weeks ago, he lived across the street underneath the same overpass. When he moved indoors, Neil inherited his sleeping bag.  So Jim grabbed the shoes and climbed up the steep embankment without a problem. He sat down with Neil while he tried on the shoes and then scurried back down, again with little visible effort.

He was right. I often don’t have “the right kind of shoes”. The “shoes” that frequently trip me up are long cherished assumptions, the illusions that allow me to feel insulated and separate from what is happening in the real world. They allow me to pretend that people like Neil are invisible. I am thankful for prophets like Jim. They point out my willful ignorance and walk with me to the places where God is waiting.

Giving Consent

“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit…” John 15:16

The “you” chosen and appointed to go in John 15:16 is plural (i.e. “all of you” or “community” - not individual religious rock stars). Of course I like the idea of missional community, of being part of the God’s kingdom as it emerges in new places. But I am not yet comfortable being missional, because the kingdom often appears in places I would rather not go. I eventually witness things I would rather not see. It is a difficult path to follow and not one I would readily choose.

God’s kingdom is real and I know where to look for it: among the poor and destitute, among those who are oppressed and suffering. That is where Jesus went and announced “the kingdom of God has come near”. Jesus said “Blessed are you who are poor” because that is where God chooses to be found (“for yours is the kingdom of God” – Luke 6:20). Being in that place, following that path is not so much a choice as it is giving consent to being “chosen” and “appointed to go”.

Jesus also said, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you took me in, naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me”. When have we done those things? “Inasmuch as you have done this for the least of these, you have done it for me”. I don’t believe those words are a polite suggestion to do nice things for poor people. I do believe they tell us we cannot find or follow Jesus if we separate ourselves from God’s poor.  Being “missional” means moving beyond our own comfort and security and stepping out into the places where God is waiting. It is difficult. It is so difficult that is requires community. 

Some Thoughts on Community

I’ve learned a few things about community over the years because on several occasions I’ve been fortunate enough to be present when it happened. One of the first lessons I learned is that community is not a commodity that can be fabricated for mass consumption. Community-in-practice (as opposed to “community-in-theory” or “community-as-cliché”) is people sharing their lives with each other. It is not an effortless way of life but I believe it is worth the struggle.

Those who are drawn into community-in-practice soon learn about interdependence. We are connected to everyone and everything else. Everything we do has an impact on the world and people around us. It takes a while for that kind of awareness to take hold since we are conditioned to think in terms of “me and mine” rather than “us” (i.e. “we are all in this together”). The rhythm of life experienced in community requires a different spirit, one of cooperation instead of competition. The illusion of total self-sufficiency has to be abandoned.

But community-in-practice is not the fruit of blind optimism. It springs from the practical knowledge that I can only discover and grow toward my truest self when I am in relationship with others. Everyone, even those who might appear to be weakest (the “least of these”), are important because they are a unique expression of the life of God that help make the community whole. We are not only connected to everyone else, we also need them.

Of course, if this way of life is so challenging and difficult why would anyone bother? When you find yourself in the midst of an emerging community (as I do now) it becomes clear that it is not simply a desirable goal but a precious gift. Community is a visible demonstration of God’s presence in the world. It is the kingdom of God (as Jesus called it) expressed in the language of human relationships. It is alive and always evolving and cannot be limited to static organizational structures. It requires a willingness to set aside our long cherished beliefs about what a community “must” or “should” be to allow room for growth into what we are being called to “become”.

Worship Club

I had a conversation the other day with a close relative about her recent visit to Church. It was an important event since she is a hesitant seeker – curious but very cautious. The wounds from past religious bludgeoning haven’t completely healed.

Although her recent experience of Church wasn’t traumatic, it wasn’t particularly uplifting either. She was good natured about it, making jokes about the one hour and forty minute service. My heart sank as she described the beautiful and elaborate ritual that she was unable to decipher. Apparently no one in that large gathering was willing to serve as guide or translator. No one was available to say: “Don’t worry - everyone is a little overwhelmed at first”. She was left to navigate that unfamiliar territory on her own.

I told her how sorry I was that her experience had not been more positive. She laughed and brushed the apology aside. “It’s OK”, she said. “It’s their club”. That was a painful and prophetic message.

Lent

“And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased’. And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness” Mark 1:11 - 12

“You are the beloved”. I think that is how it began for Jesus. I don’t know what hearing a voice from heaven would be like but it must have been disturbing. That is why Jesus was “driven” into the wilderness. What does being “the beloved” mean? Would it make any difference? Would anyone notice?

It was a disturbing event because it shattered the traditional view of things (in Mark’s gospel the heavens are “torn apart”). God was no longer safely enthroned “up there” or locked away in a majestic temple. In a very disturbing way, God was intimately present. Not just to the religious professionals who knew all the right words and rituals but intimately present to a “nobody” from no where like Jesus.

For me, that is what Lent is about. It means coming to terms with being the beloved of God. It is not a “thing” which I can own or possess. Being the beloved is being possessed by the very life of God. It is disturbing. It is not an experience that can be limited to the life, ministry and suffering of Jesus. God is intimately present to all of us.

Lately I have been pondering what I’m supposed to be anticipating during this season of Advent. I can, of course, fall back on the conventional answer: the birth of Jesus, the arrival of the Christ child. But what does that mean? Does that make any difference in the world where I live? Not much, if I insist on waiting for God at a safe distance.

When I read the story of Mary’s experience (in the gospel of Luke) I am left with the impression that she wasn't anticipating the appearance of God’s messenger nor prepared for the news that she was to be the “God bearer”. I think the anticipation, the “watching and waiting”, began only after she gave her consent to be part of what God was doing in the world.

I believe my problem is not really an issue of ability but of willingness. God is always coming to us. It is easy to miss because it is so radical, beyond our normal categories of interpretation. The presence of God, God-with-us, turns the acceptable, the normal and customary upside down. I can only experience that if I am willing to say “Yes” to God and become part of the story.

“Blessed are you who are the poor, for yours is the kingdom of God”.

A couple of years ago I invited a friend to Church. I wanted to learn what newcomers experienced when they visited our parish for the first time.  After the service I took this young family out to lunch so they could share their first impressions. Their comments were positive for the most part. However, one of their observations really stuck with me. They said, “We didn't notice any poor people”.

When I reflect on my experience in various Churches over the years I can remember only one where poor and homeless folks attended on a regular basis. I do not mention that as a criticism of any particular Church or tradition. Instead, it raises some very difficult questions for me.

Would I be comfortable worshiping with people who are different than me? Would I welcome such people into Church? Am I ready to go beyond the church doors and out into the real world to befriend people who suffer poverty and homelessness? I don't think they need my help or friendship as much as I need to listen to them and hear the gospel of God’s kingdom. After all, Jesus said it belongs to them.