Now, we’ve been through the endings of churches that we loved before. In the past, they’ve been terrible endings. They’ve been over serious theological issues, or serious personal issues, or a combination of those things. We have been hurt, or we’ve seen people that we loved be hurt, or we’ve felt we couldn’t continue in the directions that things were going.

But Neighbors Abbey, at least for us and as far as we know for others, didn’t end like this. No one appears to be bitter. No one appears to feel like his or her face was kicked in. It seems like we all view it as a lovely season that has ended. A death has occurred. It needs to be mourned, but the beautiful thing for me is that there is much to be mourned and much to be celebrated.

Some context: Neighbors Abbey was an Emergent community. One of a few that have existed in Atlanta. For most of its existence it met in houses in Southwest Atlanta, though toward the end it rented a small space at a nonprofit in that part of the city. That part of the city has been long forgotten, and has its issues with sex and drug trafficking, violence, and so on. But many in our community live there and love there, engaging in various acts of justice, and it has always helped us to be involved there as we could, even though we live in a different part of the city.

Anyway, we had a celebratory service last Sunday. We were asked to think about things we could remember, things we could grieve, and things we could imagine for the future. I felt kind of numb during that time. Not really sure what to think.

But then, we did our weekly communion. We’ve always done communion as a weekly thing. It helped create a community that was centered around sharing a table (communion, followed by a meal) with each other and with Jesus, and it was fantastic. But often, and last Sunday was like this, we sang a simple song as we did it. It goes like this:

Love, love, love, love, love (repeat)
I will show you a more excellent way (repeat, and then harmonize with the first line)
I’m just a noise; I’m a lost cymbal. I gain nothing if I do not have love. (sing once, then harmonize with the first two lines)

So there it is. Three verses, with folks singing them in harmony. It was a great way to mark things on a weekly basis.

But last Sunday, as we sang it for the last time as Neighbors Abbey, I was overcome. I don’t cry much. When I do, it normally is the Spirit of God doing something. And this was one of those times. I was no longer numb. No longer was it hard to think of what to mark from this season of our lives.

Neighbors Abbey had love.

From the beginning to the end, through all of the transitions, possible transitions, dreams we attempted and things we failed to do, we had love. The love of God was there, and our community loved one another and any who came to join us. And that’s a deep, abiding, and beautiful something to be remembered and celebrated.

I don’t put these hopes out lightly, but I feel like they need to be introduced into my life, and then of course lived. I’m very ignorant of what the actual effects of fatherhood on my life will be (beyond the obvious lack of sleep, time, spontaneity, and other things that generally increase my sense of fear), and I do fear that my hopes will come to nothing. But if I don’t remember the hopes, I feel like I’m more likely to be paralyzed by the fears.

Leila is a Hebrew name that means “night,” and Eleora means “God is my light.” I feel like this is a powerful thing. I don’t hope that our daughter will live in fear of the world, but rather in the wise love that is shown to us by those who have struggled against darkness, their own and that of the world in its many sufferings and places of pain and brokenness.

Her name speaks to me of those things.

As she is a daughter, many other things speak to me. My mind has been filled for years with an outside view of the things women face in the world, and the beautiful things available to them. Few things say this better to me than the manifesto from the wonderful folks at SheLoves Magazine (I was thinking it could be good for both of us if, even now, I begin to read it to her).

They are beautiful words that speak to loving God and loving others. They refuse to allow us, as parents, or Leila, as our daughter, to think the world is about her. And this is one of my biggest fears. It’s so easy for parents to feel like the world is all about their children, and children naturally accept this if it is available to them.

But no. Let her be a woman who Loves. A woman who carries others. A sanctuary where God may dwell. One who rises to the questions of her time. One who listens for those who have been silenced… and all the other beautiful words there.

I hope we will live into those things. There are places I want the love of God and the love of others to take us, and they are not compatible with an inwardly-focused life that is all about her. But I’m allowing myself to hope that it doesn’t have to be that way.

I’m allowing myself to hope that Leila’s place in our family will even allow us to live more fully into living out our thoughts and dreams for life. For following our passions for creating beautiful and meaningful things, as that develops for each of us. For living and practicing faith in real, broken and honest community, knowing and living among people on the fringes, and seeking justice in our own lives and in the midst of systemic injustice. And also for knowing and living in the presence, grace, love, and upside-down kingdom of God as we follow Jesus together.

These are my initial hopes. I know they’ll be refined, but I want to look back at them as a starting point, rather than a point from which I did nothing but regress.

In any case, we were finally able to go spend a week during Kiera’s Spring Break, and see some of the things they do. Though it was not a normal week, since there were students from two area colleges who were there, we still got to experience praying with Source folks,¹ the Fallout’s art gallery,² some great meals, hospitality, and conversations, and some of the work they do and have done among the poor and oppressed of the city.

Peter has led the Source since 1995, and at that time transitional housing began for folks who wanted to come off the streets, or live in intentional community in South Minneapolis. The Fallout Arts Initiative began in 2001, and it includes a gallery that hosts art shows, a small concert area, a co-op where folks can use supplies and studio space, and also the beautiful prayer room for the Source, which is always open and often hosts prayers from Northumbria’s Celtic daily office, among other things.

The Source has a deep resonance with the Celtic monastic identity, which existed and thrived away from the influence of the Roman church for a good part of the Middle Ages. These monasteries existed as small communities of prayer, work, hospitality and study in the midst of the people, often planted at the crossroads that people traveled upon. Rather than the imperialist methods that the Roman church employed at the time, these communities were much closer to what we now see as missional church, striving to live the kingdom of Jesus holistically among the people they loved.

The Source has lived in these ways among alternative subcultures,³ homeless and transient youth, and the art scenes of South Minneapolis, and in doing so has developed a beautiful sense of missiology⁴ that intertwines prayer, mission, and justice in a truly indigenous community, and sees that the gospel necessarily involves bringing good news to the poor and freedom to the oppressed.⁵

While we were there, we had the opportunity to meet one of the folks who came through the Source’s transitional housing a few years ago. In his early teen years, he became addicted to meth, got into the drug and sex industry in Minneapolis, and lived on the streets until deciding in early adulthood to move into the Source’s housing. Today, a few years later, he has housing and has taken various culinary classes.

During our visit, the Source held an art auction and benefit for Haiti, with proceeds going to an organization that is currently feeding 20,000 folks a day. This person I just spoke of catered the event, doing research to learn what Haitians eat and preparing four of these entrees for everyone who came to the benefit. Everything was wonderful, but the beauty of it was seeing the peace in his life, and seeing him able to give back to the Source and be genuinely honored there. Too often, as you know, ministries that work with folks on the street end up (sometimes intentionally, sometimes less so) colonizing and patronizing them, rather than letting those folks give back to them and shape them as well.

So part of the reason I’ve written about the week is that it was a great week for both of us, spending time with a real mentor in a season of our lives in which we have few mentors, and watching the way a group we really believe in lives. The other part of the reason I’ve written is that I’d love to see the Source, and Peter, be a bit known among us emerging folks. Source is not well known among the emerging church, though it has similar values and passions. The deep experience in mission, spirituality, and justice that exists there is a deep well from which we can draw things to put into our own contexts.

In light of that, I think there are great opportunities for different areas of the emerging church to begin learning from and talking with each other. Folks who have a deep love for theology can learn from and talk to folks who don’t think much about it. Folks with a deep love for liturgical smells and bells can learn from and talk to folks who paint in prayer rooms with spontaneous drum circles.⁶ And of course, folks with trendy black glasses can learn from and talk to folks with dreads.

Do you see these possibilities, and the vast number of others here?

1. Source is a 24-7 Prayer Boiler Room, and thus the prayer room is an artist’s dream and is always open, in addition to the regular weeks of consecutive prayer.
2. The Fallout runs an art gallery, and a co-op where folks can rent studio space. Artists don’t have to be “Christian,” to participate in these or to have their work displayed.
3. In the 90s when rave was a bigger subculture than it is today, they hosted raves that were well-known in the city, and even today they attend rainbow gatherings and continue to host concerts among the scenes that are there.
4. This sense of missiology is accompanied by a strong knowledge of it. Peter was among the first folks several years ago to introduce us to books like The Shaping of Things to Come.
5. Luke 4
6. It’s often genuinely hard for me to understand the appeal of liturgical structures, while it’s very easy for me to appreciate the spontaneous and charismatic, but I do see a lot of people that I respect who benefit from them, for example.

For a little context, I was first notified of my impending jury duty a month or so ago, and was really unhappy about the inconvenience of it. I went to the selection day and spent the day hoping I wouldn’t get selected. I answered the questions, though looking back on them I was not as thoughtful in my answers as I would like to have been. It is possible that some of my answers, had I had more time to think on them, would have disqualified me from serving.

So in light of my feeling of misrepresenting myself on some issues of justice and treatment of the poor and oppressed, and the fact that there are always important things to be done at work, and so on, I was very upset when I got selected. The trial then began on Wednesday.

During one of our breaks during the trial, I happened to speak to Troy Bronsink, who is a dear friend, and told me that he was glad I was on the jury. I didn’t really understand, but then he reminded me that juries need compassionate, critical thinkers and many times do not have them. I was humbled to be referred to in this way, but it really made me look at my task in a different way. Other folks said similar things.

So as the trial progressed, I was able to be constantly reminded of my own role as a seeker of true justice, which I think Dr. Cornel West explains so well when he says, “justice is what love looks like in public.” While I have no illusions about the sanctity of the judicial process, and no illusions that I was engaged in grand practices of activism, it is profound to be reminded that one’s voice can still contribute to justice for the poor, oppressed, and victimized through something like this.

Now, in case you would want to ask, in spite of all this the trial was ruled a mistrial in the end.

First of all, we have received an outpouring of love and support. I posted a photo of Kiera’s cast on Twitter and Facebook, and received lots of great messages on both. Please feel free to leave one yourself on one of the sites, if you like.

One of the things that struck both of us the most was a prayer emailed to us just prior to leaving the house this morning:

Kiera’s leg surgery is today – please wrap the “prayer shawl” around her and hold her tightly.

God ahead, God behind.
God be on the path I wind.
God above, God below
God be everywhere I go.

Celtic Prayer

In many ways, for us this was a preview of the day’s events. If you have read the previous post I wrote about this surgery, you know that this one was designed as a bone fusion, with a bone graf (involving three incisions). The surgeon’s X-rays and diagnosis indicated that, although there was no arthritis, the fusion was necessary or would be in the near future. It was designed to require six weeks before weight could be put on it, and would be an incredibly intensive and painful recovery process.

None of this was a surprise to us, and we were as prepared as we could be, though both of us were very nervous. But today, when the surgeon made his incision and was looking around inside the foot, he decided that the fusion was unnecessary and he was able to remove the piece of bone that shouldn’t be there, indicating that either the first surgery she had didn’t remove enough, or that it grew back and will not be able to grow back this time, since she is no longer a teenager.

So, this bone removal is incredibly less invasive, and thus provides her with a smaller recovery time, and much less pain than she would have had to endure. This is still an intense surgery for a foot, and still involves a great deal of pain, but the difference is an order of magnitude, apparently. We had no reason to expect this, and the surgeon was as pleased as we were.

Kiera and I have spent several years having our theology, our lives, and our relationship enriched by supernatural workings of God, many of which we do not at all understand. This whole process has been one of those things, from the straightening of her feet as a child to situations like this. We do not at all want to lessen the knowledge or experience of the surgeon, as he is at one of the top hospitals in the country and we have both experienced too many Christians that see everything as a supernatural working of God, but the surgeon himself has been pleasantly surprised and we find much to be thankful for.

In any case, to start out, Kiera is having surgery on Monday, July 20 at the new Emory University Orthopaedics & Spine Hospital. The surgery is a bone fusion in her foot, and also involves clearing out bone fragments and scar tissue from the past.

This story starts at Kiera’s birth, when she had clubfeet. Doctors informed her mom that she would never walk. She could have a surgery at age 18 that would be a cosmetic surgery, but would still not allow her to walk. As a baby, she was unable to wear shoes, and would scream if there was any attempt to put them on.

Her mom faithfully took Kiera to her church to have her feet prayed for in hope of healing. After one of these attempts, her feet straightened out. Her mom noticed this at home, and tried putting shoes on her feet. No pain seemed to occur, she developed as a walking child.

Now, the interesting thing is that the surgery she is having now has nothing to do with this former condition, and she never had the cosmetic surgery at 18. When she was 16, she tore a ligament and needed surgery for it. When doctors fixed this ligament, they noticed that she had a tarsal coalition, and did a surgery to try to fix it.

This surgery didn’t work, and the piece of bone grew back (causing various bone fragments and scar tissue, as well as a piece of bone). She has been experiencing severe pain from this for the last couple of years, and since I have known her has had to be very careful with it. Because of the first surgery, the doctors are not attempting to remove the piece, but instead are fusing the piece with a joint, taking away the foot’s horizontal movement.

This surgery will require a three month recovery. For the first six weeks, she will be on crutches and fairly immobile. After this, she’ll be wearing a camwalker, and will still be sketchy, as far as movement goes, for the next six weeks. But hopefully after this, the pain will be gone.

And this is basically the situation. Thank you to those who have expressed interest and care in her situation. In all honesty, we are both a bit stressed about this, in anticipation of the physical pain, as well as the various financial and other burdens the surgery will cause. So your care is most appreciated.

For much of the last ten years, I have spent my life dreaming about the future. Ways that I could experience and learn about God and walk with others toward that experience and learning, ways that I could express truth and beauty through design, and ways that I could walk in and love justice, peace, and mercy.

Often, during those last ten years, I have had specific goals in those areas. For example, I wanted to start a missional coffeeshop that formed a community where people could experience God if they desired, or just engage in conversation, or just enjoy really good espresso. For another, I wanted to run my own design business. For yet another, I’ve had this random hope that I’d come up with an internet product of some kind.

Recently, I’ve somewhat moved toward the goal of forming or being part of a missional community, though probably not in a coffeeshop. I’ve thought of being a designer for a strong organization, working for justice. Any number of related things have gone through m head.

I had hoped that I might be close to one or more of these goals by the time I was about to turn 26. But I’m not, really. I have some wonderful connections that might or might not lead to things. I have some great things that I can be a part of, and hopefully journey along with, though I still feel like I’m outside of most of them (which I’ve learned is a common feeling, of course).

So, as I sit here, not tangibly close to any of my goals, but within the realm of possibility of any of them, I didn’t know what to say to Kiera. That scares me a little. As I reflect upon it and write this, I think it is partly because I sit in that tension between not being tangibly close, but sitting within the realm of possibility.

The Rescue March

On April 25, Invisible Children had The Rescue event in 100 cities in 10 countries, including Atlanta. I was fortunate to be a part of this event, and feel honored to have been so.

Basically, the purpose of the event was for people who care about the abducted child soldiers of Northern Uganda to come together to make them visible to a world that rarely sees them, in the hopes that the world will take action to rescue them.

We wrote letters, made art projects, reached out to news outlets, and (in Atlanta’s case) marched from Turner Field to Grant Park, holding onto ropes and signs.

Each city was to wait until it was rescued, by a politician, celebrity, or other person of cultural influence who could help raise a voice for these people. In Atlanta, we were rescued by Jeff Foxworthy (who has an amazing heart for Africa, and also has endorsed some great books) and Congressman John Lewis, who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King in the Civil Rights movement. My friend has a short video of John Lewis‘s words to us, and it is very powerful.

It was really powerful for us to have the opportunity to meet and hear from both of these, and especially a man who was such an integral part of the Civil Rights movement, and is still such an important voice for peace. We are all hopeful that the kind of change sought by this event will really be able to come to Uganda. This June, there will be a lobbying event in Washington, that will hopefully be another step of what, we hope, took a huge step this weekend.

Personally, I don’t listen to the radio. I love Last.fm, but have no interest in normal radio stations. So, Christian radio is an abnormal experience for me.

From time to time, they play commercials for the station, of course. The station describes itself, in great detail and with many illustrations, as “safe for the whole family.”

In a related circumstance, I was having a conversation about nonviolence with someone I know, and the normal argument of “if my family was being attacked…” came into the dialogue. This person stated that a Christian has to follow the God-given responsibility to keep his or her family safe.

Christian radio: safe for the whole family. God-given Christian responsibility: keep your family safe. To the point that it’s okay to use violence against those who might hurt you.

Scripture never tells the people of God that they will be safe, or that they should strive to be safe, or that loving one’s enemies is overridden by the need to be safe. Jesus constantly gets himself into trouble, and he gets his followers into trouble. They are ridiculed, beaten, imprisoned, and killed for the first three centuries of the church because their allegiance goes beyond family, beyond nations, and beyond politics. It is only once they have given up the Spirit and the Cross that Christianity becomes safe, and that’s because it has the sword on its side.

But then I realized how safe my own life is. I still sit, in many ways, in complacent safety.

When I was in college, I was introduced to the music of Jason Upton, through a live recording. In one of the songs, he is spontaneously singing, and he says this:

‘Lord I want to be so holy’, I used to say
And he’d say, ‘Tell me why. Is it so you can fly
In front of your friends and tell them how bad they are?’
And he said to me, ‘Jason if you’d just make your life a little bit more risky
You wouldn’t have to strive so hard
Following me
But your life is so safe. Your life is so safe. Your life is so safe.’

These words convict me every time I listen to them, and they tell me different things about my life every time I listen to them. Lately they have been shouting at me, and I can’t wait to see where they lead. As they have been speaking, others have also been speaking. Advent has been speaking. The Irresistible Revolution has been speaking. Jesus Wants to Save Christians has been speaking. Peter Rollins has been speaking. New friends have been speaking. I want to listen.

I am looking for something more than talking and reading and listening, and that is all I’ve been doing, recently.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band (I played trombone in middle/early high school.)
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower (They are lots of fun.)
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (This is somewhat true, as many of my web design skills are self-taught, although I also have education in the field.)
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty (Although, as Magneto says, “There is no land of tolerance. There is no peace. Not here, or anywhere else.”)
18. Grown your own vegetables (My parents grew tomatoes; does that count?)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight (Some really brutal ones…)
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you're not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset (Both, for what it’s worth.)
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (Only if programming languages count. I am terrible at human languages.)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo's David
41. Sung karaoke.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (Usually they are not strangers anymore, after you do that.)
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (Although I really love eating the peanut butter chocolate ones. I’d sell myself some of those…)
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma (Donating blood is a weird feeling. I like it, except for the one time I almost fainted.)
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (I got laid off once in college.)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone. (Only fingers and toes.)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone's life (Suicide is a horrid thing to watch someone attempt.)
90. Sat on a jury (I got out of it once, since I was moving. Ha ha. Really though, I couldn’t have afforded the unpaid time off. It would have broken me.)
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a mobile phone
99. Been stung by a bee (One of my earlier memories is getting stung by a hornet in preschool. I didn’t even do anything to it. I was just standing there…)
100. Read an entire book in one day