A beautiful mess

I realized earlier this week yet another way that five years in Georgia has influenced more than just my path in ministry. As I rushed around from meeting to meeting, energized by each conversation, scattered yet grateful, a song came to mind. A country song came to mind. Yes, while living in Atlanta, I had gotten into the habit of listening to some good 'ole country music, and on this day of running late and feeling only half prepared, I began singing Diamond Rio's Beautiful Mess. While the romance-centered mess re-told in the song did not really match the story of my day, the idea of a beautiful mess did. I realized that in moments like these, as uncomfortable as they were for me, I was part of something beautiful.

For the last month on Sunday nights, The Well has been discussing what a spiritual community would look like if it practiced caring for its neighbors, not with charity, but with friendship and economic redistribution. Toward the end of our discussion, one participant commented, "If we do this, if we really practice the stuff we're talking about, it's going to be messy." I wish in retrospect I had let that thought settle for longer and had not moved on so quickly. Her reflection was heartfelt and seemed full of both confession and warning. Are we really serious about getting involved in this kind of work? Are we ready for what might happen? Are we willing to move away from our neat, well-defined and strategic projects and into new, more tangled and vulnerable ways of being in relationship with one another?

On numerous occasions described in scripture, Jesus said "the kingdom of heaven is like...". Compared to a seed, a child, a feast, a pearl, a wedding, the kingdom seems something to be grasped, yet something difficult to define. The kingdom, the work of God, is not easily defined, it does not provide a quick fix, it does not keep us isolated and disconnected from pain and suffering. When we dare to venture into the work of participating in God's work in the world, yes, it is messy and it is beautiful.

I've mentioned before that I do not like mess. I am learning, though, that you can't have the beauty without getting into the unsettled, tangled, often chaotic web of activity and connectivity that can make us feel crazy at times. This particular day involved creating a first budget for our church, sharing in grief over the sudden death of a family member, and planning a Christmas store for low-income families. It involved too many schedules, too many changes, too much pain and too little time.

A couple of questions come to mind: How do we handle the mess? Can we become obsessed with making things neat and manageable? Instead, are there ways we can begin blessing it, calling it beautiful, and recognizing that it just might be the kingdom of God unfolding before us?

Stop and celebrate

A couple of weeks ago, I took both of our girls to the pediatrician for their annual check-ups. I always get a little nostalgic when we go because I realize another year has passed, and they are growing up too quickly! This time, as I sat looking at my daughters in their paper gowns preparing for the doctor to arrive, I felt more than a sentimental stirring. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude at the fact that they are healthy. It suddenly dawned on me that there was so much to celebrate about that moment - we have health-care, insurance, have not been sick much, have access to immunizations (which my daughters might argue is nothing to celebrate!), and the list goes on. I felt gratitude, and yes, I also felt a tinge of guilt. While I can be pretty good at noticing when things are not going my way, I can be pretty bad a pausing to celebrate the good things.

I have a long list of things to celebrate, but instead of boring you with the list, I'll share one beautiful example. Two years ago this month, I was considering accepting an associate pastor staff position in a wonderful church in rural Georgia. I was thrilled to have this opportunity, and it was a good one. The role would involve many of the things I love to do. I thought and prayed and listened as people urged me to seriously consider accepting the call. Despite their advice, I just could not do it. Something told me no. About that same time, I began paying more attention to this opportunity I had heard about that involved starting new CBF churches in Florida. I did some reading on new ways of being church and church starting and attended a conference with others involved in "missional community formation." While I was drawn to the idea of church planting, it also seemed too risky, overwhelming, and was not something I could really see myself doing.

This Sunday, as The Well at Springfield celebrated the start of monthly worship, I celebrated my calling into this risky and at times overwhelming work. Admittedly, there have been many days when I have wondered when and how this new faith community was going to take shape; however, this was not one of them. As I looked around the room, I realized that a church had formed and I felt such affirmation. The stirring not to move into a traditional ministry position was what I needed to listen to, even as difficult and crazy as it seemed at the time. The stirring to be part of something new led us to this beautiful day, and for that I want to stop and celebrate.

After Sunday came Monday which brought another work and school week, a car breakdown, and an array of activity. I was about to move on too quickly until I remembered the visit to the pediatrician. I remembered to stop, and to soak in the goodness of Sunday. I need to stop and celebrate, and not forget how wonderful it is to sense the affirmation. I need to stop and celebrate the privelege of serving a God who still shapes and stirs, and to see the evidence of God's love and care through friends who gathered for worship. I'm sure I'll need it to look back upon in the days ahead.

A new thing

A friend recently made the observation that as people of faith, we have often failed to read the story of scripture as a whole, but instead have focused on its individual parts. Those who grew up going to church know the stories of Moses being placed in a basket by his mother, the story of David and Goliath and the story of the paralytic being lowered through a rooftop to be healed by Jesus. I wonder what would happen, though, if we did take a fresh look at the entire story of scripture and allowed the narrative to speak a fresh word to us today.

One theme that emerges when we examine the broader story of scripture is that of restoration. While there are many interruptions along the way, God's activity always seems to be moving forward - - to a promised land, to a future king, to a baby being born, to a day when all things will be made new. I must admit this forward-moving story can be disturbing at times - - When will there no longer be a need for God to create something new? When will there finally be peace and a settling down that no longer require our looking forward? While it can be frustrating, it can also be extremely exciting when we begin to look around and see the ways that a new reality is taking place here and now. I see this when an unlikely friendship takes shape and leads to new level of acceptance. I see this when people are moved to take up the cause of the oppressed in our society and freedom becomes a possibility. I've seen this recently as a new community of faith is forming out of a renewed passion for following Christ.

Restoration implies returning something to its original condition. It does not mean wiping away the old and starting all over. Most often in scripture, this is how we see God dealing with humanity. God uses human beings to lead, serve, share, provide and gather. God is restoring all of creation to its original sense of wholeness, and God uses us to do this. The life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus is more than the description of a transaction (his death + his resurrection = our eternal life). I believe that is the simplistic explanation that requires little more than our acceptance. Jesus' life, death and resurrection brought into being a new state of things - and it requires more than our acceptance - it requires our participation.

Springfield is a community where the restoration of homes is cherished activity, but it is not easy work. Just like the work of restoring relationships, there are often set backs and interruptions that slow progress. It is into this community and this city that The Well is seeking to engage would-be followers of Christ in God's story of restoration. We invite new and old friends and neighbors to join us on the first Sunday of each month (Oct. 2, Nov. 6th, Dec. 4th) for a worship gathering that will center around this theme of "Being Restored". I am eagerly anticipating how God is going to do a new thing as we gather together this Sunday, and I hope if you are in the area, you will consider being a part.

No room for competition

Since beginning The Well at Springfield, we have emphasized the importance of being a collaborating community of faith. We not only wanted to be a welcoming presence, but a church that is cooperative and interactive with others in our neighborhood and city. This includes other churches. Early on, I met co-pastors of a Lutheran congregation in Springfield, and I could tell right away that we were like-minded in our understandings of what it means to be church. They immediately became friends and partners in ministry.

This is not always the case. Often times, churches treat one another like competition. We don't want to help one another out because of fear we will lose out some how...like we are somehow creating a business of religious goods and services and vying for the same consumers. That is so far from my understanding of what it means to be church that I don't even know where to begin; yet, at times, I too find myself uncomfortable in the midst of collaboration. I think it is so ingrained in me/us to be the best at what we do that we prefer to work alone, even in the church.

I guess I've chosen to go against the norm. I can't preach a gospel of inclusion and then try to set out on my own course of separation from others. This past Sunday was a great example of why.

On the ten year anniversary of 9/11, we worshiped with St. John's Lutheran Church and the service was jointly-led by our two congregations. People of differing faith traditions joined one another, sang, prayed and even broke bread together. I believe we recognized that there is something much bigger than our differences and much more important than our distinct doctrines. We sensed God bringing us together to express our common pain, to confess a belief that God is our source of hope, and to encourage one another to be good neighbors. God's love and healing transcended our human-made boundaries and together, we experienced more of God.

In a world where tragedies like 9/11 are a reality here just as they have been abroad, there is no room for competition. We must find ways to participate in what God is doing in places and people everywhere. It will make us uncomfortable at times, but it can only serve to further the peace, love and healing that make God's kingdom known here and now...and, oh how we need it to be known and experienced here and now.

The gift of feeling prepared

Over the last few weeks, we have done our share of back to school shopping. School supplies, a couple of new outfits for the girls, and even new backpacks. Some of these things are required, and some are not, but they represent the ways we enthusiastically anticipate and prepare for the start of a new school year. It's an exciting time as the girls wait to hear who their teachers will be and count down till the first day of school!

A couple of days ago, as a family of five came to the church hoping for financial assistance, I experienced a very different perspective on the school year. This family had undergone financial hardship since their move to Jacksonville last year. While one of the children was excited about starting school, the others were less than thrilled (admittedly, because they had no clothes or school supplies). While the dad explained their situation, he expressed his frustration over not being able to provide for his family, particularly during this time of year. After a few minutes, another minister and I led this family to a room of clothing that was not yet organized, but might help them get started on some back to school clothing.

As we entered the room, the youngest child (a seven year old boy) lit up when he immediately spotted an over-sized gray sweatshirt. It was worn and twice his size, but he called it "so cool," then asked if he could please have it. My heart sank, and I was humbled by his unexpected gratitude over something I had so easily taken for granted - the feeling of being prepared to start a new year of school.

While we have had our share of financial crunches, we have never failed to find a way to make ends meet. We've never faced eviction or the threat of having our utilities turned off. We've never had to send our children to school feeling unprepared or inadequate to be there. I imagine that feeling unprepared to begin school can have a definite impact on a child's enthusiasm for learning and confidence to achieve success in school.

This Saturday, The Well is partnering with Northeast Florida Community Action Agency to host a Neighborhood Back to School Bash in Springfield. It's not only about providing for families in need, it's also about fostering a sense of community and an atmosphere of anticipation at this critical time in the lives of families. We are celebrating the start of a new school year, eating together, playing games, honoring teachers, and sharing supplies with children who may not feel prepared to return to school. It's going to be an exciting time, and a great opportunity to support one another in preparing our kids for a new school year. I hope to see some of you there!

Change is not easy

Now that Kevin is back in Jax. with us for good, I am trying to return to a more healthy, balanced life. I have my new running shoes, and I've started back to running a few mornings a week. I knew that it would take a while to get back in the groove, but I underestimated how difficult it would be to ditch my early morning leisurely coffee and reading routine. Change is rarely easy, but in my experience it is worth the hard work.

The neighborhood in which we are planting The Well has been undergoing change for quite some time. While the statistics show a reduction in crime and other illegal activity, change has been a slow process. Making matters more difficult, residents and community activists disagree on what types of changes need to occur and how they should be carried out. One of the most recent breakthroughs came with the beginning of the demolition of a long-time vacant inn that had served as a haven for the homeless (but not a good one, since the building was unsafe and unstable). The picture above shows the work that has begun, but like the rest of the road to new life in the community, it's going to take a while.

I find that the road to starting a new church is similar. Like community development, church starting and re-starting requires patience and determination. Even more than that, it requires confronting those habits, routines and assumptions that keep me from seeing all of the options available for the path ahead. This week, I realized just how limited my imagination can be as we began looking at alternative meeting spaces. One space almost looked too tied to the past, and the other too lacking in history. As a friend and I began to talk about reconfiguring the seating and adding a few elements, things started to look different. It never fails that when I feel "stuck", it is because I am reverting to old patterns of the way things have always been done, to what is comfortable and familiar. Pioneering a new way of doing and being church is difficult because it challenges me to risk that new, untried, innovative options are more effective, and sometimes they are not. The willingness to choose a new path, the willingness to change, inevitably involves failure. Some of those failures will be really small and others will be big, there for all to see....another thing that makes change so difficult for me.

I've decided that there is no better place to be trying something new than in Springfield. There seems to be almost no limit to what people will try to create new life in this community - neighborhood bike rides to expose suspicious activity, community gardens to improve health and environmental stewardship, a Relay for Life to bring the neighborhood together around a great cause, new and unique businesses (organic candy, the best coffee shop in Jax., yummy ice cream combined with financial literacy , and an awesome home-style Caribbean cafe to name a few), and a chili-cook off to have fun and support a local charity. Yes, change is challenging and is certainly not the easier path, but it's nice to be in like company. It's fun to be pioneering with other dreamers who don't mind failing to help pave the way for a better, more hope-filled future for a community.

Just beyond our busynes

Last Sunday night at The Well, we had a discussion about the role of Sabbath in the biblical story and in our lives today. Sabbath is about more than physical rest, it's about reflection and re-orienting ourselves to the ways of God. In The Rest of God, Mark Buchanan describes how, by observing Sabbath, we discover the rest of God - yes, rest from work, but also that rest of God that can only be experienced when we stop our busyness.

I am not good at Sabbath. I am often so consumed with my to-do list that instead of stopping, I move on quickly to the next thing on my agenda. This week has been a great example - I have had multiple meetings, conversations and surprise encounters. Yes, it was a busy week, but when I stopped to reflect, I was reminded of its richness and I began to feel full.

This week began with a meeting with my Clearness Committee, a group of friends that take time from their busy schedules to guide me through a discernment process. It was not an easy hour, but it brought self-awareness, focus and courage. This week also brought several occasions for me to sit with struggling Springfield neighbors who have lost hope due to financial hardship. I heard first hand of programs and people that are doing their best to find real solutions for these individuals. This week also brought an important vision team meeting, dinner and great conversation with a long-time friend, encouraging emails, and unexpected offers for help with our upcoming back-to-school event...and, it will end with a much needed day with my girls and the much anticipated homecoming of Kevin tonight! There have been low and high moments, but when I stop, I am made aware of a depth and richness that is both present in the busyness, and yet surpasses it. I sit speechless at the overwhelming sense of the divine and mysterious Presence that has sustained and stirred without my notice.

These moments of Sabbath are invaluable to us as human beings, and to us as faith communities. At The Well, we have been having potluck and Bible study on Sunday nights for 4 months now, but for the next 3 weeks we are breaking from our routine. This Sunday, we are taking a walk around the neighborhood. It's about having fun, getting to know one another, getting a little exercise (all those potlucks can take a toll) and it's also about becoming more aware of our surroundings. As we walk, we'll be challenged to become more mindful of that which we rush past every day. I hope these next few weeks will be a good starting point for considering ways to build Sabbath time into the rhythm of our life together. Walks and picnics in the park help us to see and encounter the rest of God, the part that we miss in our routine and sometimes repetitive activity, the part that lies just beyond our busyness.