When The Knock Out Punch Seems Delivered, The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail.

Yesterday I had the privilege of bringing the message to a community of Christ-followers a few miles north of us. We've come know some of the people there and were looking forward to seeing a couple we'd gotten to know pretty well who'd recently been through a devastating attack to their homestead and farm. God gave me a message I knew would be a comfort to them and anyone else going through the unthinkable. I wanted to refresh and encourage them that El Roi, (the God Who Sees Me) in Genesis 16:13, was going to walk with them through this.

Early last Wednesday Bob and Lisa were awakened in the middle of the night by a loud bang and a vehicle leaving quickly. Something wasn't right. Upon going outside to see what was happening they were assaulted by the terrible sight of one of their two barns being engulfed in flames. The fire was roaring leaving no chance to extinguish it. Soon, the second barn would be destroyed too.Worse still, it had been deliberately set by the hand of a family member.

Added to their horror, was the reality that in one barn they'd housed all the tools Bob collected over the years and used in his business. In the other barn was furniture, personal records, and family stuff they were storing until a new home was built beginning in a few weeks. They'd been temporarily residing in a modular home across the street. In other words, they lost almost everything in a few minutes. You can imagine what it must to have been like to stand there knowing what was happening. And their realization that one of their own kin did this deliberate act of violence and contempt, could have been a knock-out punch.

But it wasn't. These folks are resilient, hardworking, do-what-it-takes-to-get-it-done people. They shed tears and felt the shock of what was happening for sure, but the very next day, they took one of the most beautiful actions I've ever heard of.

They decided the evil one would not succeed in trying to destroy them. Bob told me, as his barns were burning down, he said directly to the devil he could go ahead and take all his tools and furniture, but God would restore it seven to ten-fold. In other words, "you will not destroy us because we belong to Christ!"
Then the very next day, he and Lisa found two very large pieces of wood, and decided they'd put together a cross. They thought the best place to put it would be right in the middle of the scorched earth where the barns had been.

So they dug a hole, built the cross together --which turned out to be 16 feet tall and very heavy -- and drug it slowly across the road where it stands today as a testimony to the reality of Christ in the midst of devastating attack.

The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail!

They said yesterday because the barns were built in the 19th century, and had been told of the very real possibility of being placed on the National Historic Register, they would do everything they could to rebuild them just as they were.

The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail!

They also testified to the goodness of God in that the fire came right up to where their berry bushes were, and damaged none of them.These folks are gradually building a farming business too. They would've had to start from scratch and miss out on needed income from this growing season. Bob also told me he had more work for his business to do than he could handle and had to add new employees last week. He also said friends in the business offered him the use of their tools as well.

The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail!

Because these people are followers of Jesus and know forgiveness is the life they are called to, they  must come to grips with forgiving this person in their family. Both of them acknowledged it will take awhile, but they want to do what Jesus has called them to as forgiven people.

 The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail!

I have to say my own load was lightened yesterday by their courage in the midst of sorrow, pain, and loss. I could see through their example a way I should view the trials and challenges we are currently facing. While our trying circumstances are different, we have felt in the last 6 weeks as if Satan's was attempting a knock-out punch for the McDermott's. But Jesus showed me through the words of these two not-gonna-quit followers of his that because the cross and resurrection of Christ prevails, I must do the same in attitude and action as them. The fight goes on and my Lord has overcome the world, including my world.

Talking to them was an unexpected gift. Their spirit and grit left me feeling hopeful, even refreshed a little. I told them we'd love to help in the clean-up or anything else they need. I hope they let us. For now, their church has gathered around them, and will fight side by side through love, giving and service until God is glorified. They will show forth generosity in all manner of ways, and I suspect Christ will marshal His followers who hear the story of the cross planted where two barns burned to the ground

The Cross and Resurrection of Christ Prevail!

Meeting With Northampton City Council Members Last Night About The OPEN TABLE Opportunity.

In October of 2012, I wrote a blog called imagine/Northampton's OPEN TABLE Opportunity: http://oldmenplantingchurches.blogspot.com/2012/10/imaginenorthamptons-open-table.html. In it, I expressed my excitement over the possibility we could learn and employ an innovative model for helping homeless transform. We'd had the opportunity to have the Founder, Jon Katov spend a weekend with us to explain what the Open Table model was, and how it might work in our neck of  the woods. When he left, we were pumped.

So I and Dave Sweeney began to brainstorm what needed to be done. I did the lion-share of the footwork contacting people to see if we could form a table with imagine folks and others sympathetic to the model. I was able to do so fairly quickly. The harder part was finding the right person who'd benefit from the Open Table. This was all new to me. I connected with a whole bunch of folks in town from ServiceNET staff to city government representatives, as well as other agencies working on the tough and growing problem of homelessness. The initial footwork was tedious in that my gifts are not a great fit for such work. I was an introverted fish far from the water, but I gradually made contacts and talked with people. Everyone I talked was intrigued and very supportive.

Eight months in, I ran into a wall where I felt no momentum, and began to let frustration discolor the picture. Without getting into the details, I pulled the plug on the project last summer. I told Jon it just wasn't going to work and I'd done run out of steam. He tried to exhort me to hang on, but I just had no remaining fire in my belly for it. In reality, I was naive and immaturely impatient, feeling I was letting everyone down on this side, and I couldn't bear the weight of it. I let a false sense of shame lie to me. Pride was whispering also.

With the phone call to Jon, I assumed the deal was done and moved on. I wasn't happy about it, but resigned.

Well...one of the people I'd contacted was a woman in the Mayor's Office who has responsibility for housing and  community development planning. She'd graciously given me an hour plus of her time earlier this year before I pulled the plug. She was excited by what I explained, even moved by the graciousness of the model. At one point she had tears in her eyes. She said I needed to present it to the Town Council. We tried to make that happen in the Spring, but scheduling prevented it. So, she scheduled it for this December.

I thought it wouldn't happened. When she made contact to let me know it was on, I told her I'd not been able to get the thing going, therefore it seemed pointless for me get in front of the Council. She disagreed vehemently saying that even if it was not operating I needed to tell them about it. She was insistent. I heard God in that.

So last night, I met in Council Chambers with Bill Dwight, the City Council President, Councilor At-Large, Marianne L. LaBarge , representing Ward 6, and Peg Keller, the Housing & Community Development Senior Planner in the Mayor's Office who'd encouraged me to stay the course. I laid out the values, principles, and process of the Open Table model. It took about 20 minutes. They asked intelligent questions which I very much appreciated. I recognized they'd had a long history dealing with housing and homelessness problems.

I was heartened by how encouraging they were especially since we'd be volunteering to do this, using volunteers from the community to share skills and build a team around someone until they were able to get on their feet. One of them mentioned it was gracious, kind and courageous to do what we were offering. The fact we weren't looking for money or being paid was notable. Another said it was clear we were doing it from the heart, the most important reason.

Bill asked what we needed from the Council. Immediately, I responded, "connections!"; particularly with folks who'd be willing to be on the table based from what would be needed for the particular brother or sister. He was pleased with my response and said they could be very helpful with providing contacts. I felt God was opening a door I thought sadly closed, a failure because of me.

As I started to walked out of the Chambers, Peg told me to give her a call right after the first of the year and she'd be able to provide me with all the connections I'd want. Again, I felt God giving me the green light; opening a door I closed because I'd run out of options or so I thought. He had not closed the door apparently.

But I had one more thing to do.

You'll remember Jon challenged me to not give up but I didn't listen to him. I know I'd let him down because he'd lined up some coaches for us to really get things moving and I bailed. I felt convicted I'd done him wrong so right after I returned from the meeting last night, I sent him an email telling him that I'd spoken to City Council members and the door seemed to be re-opening. I asked for his forgiveness in stopping the project. He was very kind and gracious in responding saying we'd both needed to slow it down. Wow.

We'll be talking on the phone this Thursday. Please pray God directs us into his will, and gives me the ability to do my part lacking nothing necessary to making me able.

So apparently, the Lord is giving us another chance to make this happen under His unction. He's giving me a second opportunity to actually launch a major resource in New England to help alleviate poverty and homelessness in our city and beyond. What an opportunity I almost squandered!

I'll let you know how it goes after the first of the year.

Merry Christmas! 

Of Light and Dark and Reveille: Opening Reception for Artist Bella Halsted and Sculptor Ben Westbrock.

On Friday, October 11th ,  our imagine ART Gallery hosted the Opening Artist Reception for Amherst painter, Bella Halsted, and Northampton ceramic sculptor Ben Westbrock. We met both Ben and Bella when they, at different times, traipsed up the stairs into the gallery to see what there was to see. I was the first to meet Ben. He stopped by in the summer and after a conversation at one of the ARTS Night Openings, returned a few weeks later to bring me a packet of pictures showing his work. they sat around for a month or two and Tricia contacted him after she's talked to Bella and they thought it right to do a joint show with Ben. One cool thing about this show both Ben and Bella are in their 70's and they are local. Ben is the shorter gentleman with the beard on the right in the first picture. Bella is the lady with the turquoise jacket in the second picture:

As with all opening night receptions for a new show, we're never quite sure who'll be showing up. What we can say is the numbers are increasing steadily since we began! We noticed a bit of a difference with this show. The pace of guests coming to see the exhibit was steady once it began. The gallery was full until right up to the end. Even after I closed up shop, a father and his two kids knocked on the door saying they'd heard they needed to see this exhibit so he wanted to know if I'd open up. Of course, I did.

As she has done before, imagineer Jenn Swick stood out front telling folks about the exhibit. Many of them hadn't been up to the gallery before, so she single-handedly was responsible for introducing all these new folks to the space. A number of the guests were friends or family of the artists. It seemed many of them came too. Some of our friends were there as well, including Bob and Barbara Japenga who we served with in the retreat ministry with at the Center For Renewal in Simsbury. It was a lovely surprise to see them. It was also lovely to see and visit with Bruce Mills and Tamar Shadow. Tamar was a key exhibitor and instigator of the very well-attended TWINE show we did last spring. They were out and about and stopped in. It's always great to see them. Scott Jackson and Leah Gregg also stopped by as they have at more than a few of our shows. We've known them since almost the beginning of being here.

I also recognized faces of people who've been to our other shows. There were some wonderful comments about the peace and "specialness" of the space and  how calm it feels. One faithful supporter said it was her favorite gallery (a couple of others said that too) and she's been to all our shows. She had tears in her eyes and apologized for getting emotional. People all raved abut the food calling it the best gallery food in the city. That happens every time because Tricia takes such care to make it wonderful, not just snacks. All in all, I counted 200+ by the end of the evening, Ben and Bella sold some work. We pray for that.

If you came into the gallery you'd have seen a combination of Ben's and Bella's work. What you'd notice would be all the vibrant color and interesting shapes on display. Tricia has a knack for hanging pieces; she's affirmed all the time about that by the artists. Bella's paintings are abstracts with bold colors and shapes of landscapes. With some, she does watercolor studies first so you would've seen seen both. Doing it that way helps you see into how she sees. And she tied many of them to a poem; something she's written or something by famous poets such as Wendell Berry or William Blake. Having a light on her work made the colors pop with strength and vibrancy.

Ben's ceramic sculptures also popped with color, texture, and with movement. Many are whimsical. All are abstracts, but not unrecognizable as something familiar. They have substance and clear form. Some look like sea creatures or cartoon characters. Some look like tools or body parts or knights. Others are abstract designs to be hung on a wall. They are well-made, evocative and you'd want to touch them. They catch your eye right away and you'd wonder what they are:

We are now a year into this and it feels like we are just getting anchored in the town. People often say, I didn't know you were here, even though we have been showing up almost every weekend since a year ago in September. There is much we still have to learn about being more public as a church and a gallery. We'll get there. I remember, we knew nothing about how to do most of this when we came to plant imagine/Northampton. The imagine ART Gallery was not even a thought. But here we are after a years and artists are beginning to ask if they can bring their  work in. Recently, I had two folks tell me we have a great space and this is a great exhibit. They both are connected to galleries one in Holyoke and one in Watertown. Some are fascinated we are a church.

May God accomplish all he desires through the gallery and the church we were inspired by him to start. I can imagine it. His being glorified by what we do here would be an exquisite joy for us.

If you haven't come out this Friday or Saturday to see Gordon College Professor of Art, Jim Zingarelli's "The 4/4 Series" of paintings and sculpture:

imagine/Northampton's Halloween Community Event, 2013

The imagine/Northampton Halloween Team

(not pictured, but present earlier: Kristen Hastings, Trey and Amelia McCain, and Emma Olson - Hannah Sachs' roommate at Smith)

In 2010, we offered our first imagine/Northampton Halloween Community Event in response to a comment a mother of one of us made: http://oldmenplantingchurches.blogspot.com/2010/11/www.imaginenorthampton.org . What she said made sense to our ever-present missional mindset so we dove in. The day  was a resounding success way beyond our expectations. We weren't sure anyone would trudge up our apparently foreboding stairs. But they did! The place was packed. It was something to savor and remember, especially for a first time.

In 2011 for some reason we decided to forgo the opportunity.

In 2012, we got ready but a huge, heavy, wet snowstorm (Hurricane Sandy) blew in shutting down Northampton and surrounding towns for 4+ days. What a mess and disappointment.

But undaunted, we decided to take a crack at it again this year. We're glad we did. The day was damp and light-rainy at times, and the crowds took awhile to gather, but gather they did in waves. Main Street was jammed with kids and parents all heading into the participating establishments displaying the orange sign on the door to get candy. The street was alive with wonderful energy from all the colors and shapes of the costumes and the excitement of the kids.

As we did in 2010, we decided to go over the top with a photographer, craft table, snack and drink table, and, of course, a bag of candy. Our friend for many years, Larry White, graciously volunteered to take the pics, and he reported somewhere in the vicinity of 119 when it was all said and done. He was both professional and warm. We also gave out 260 bags of candy; Tricia estimated with adults present, the attendance was 390. We had @350 in 2010. Some of the folks told us they had also come in 2010.

(Just a tiny sample of what was available to folks throughout the night!)

My job was to stand at the door to let people know we had free photos, crafts and candy for the kids, and hot cider or chocolate for the adults. Manning the front door lets me connect with folks on the street; it tugs me out of my introversion ... and the engaging ends up being fun. While out there, I noticed two reactions I got when telling people to head upstairs. First, when I mentioned there were free pics for the kids, the women would often say, "Really?" It seems to blow their categories because no one on the street was doing this. The opportunity changed some folks minds. The men mostly seem to be enduring the whole thing, but there were exceptions--they really get into it.

The second reaction also came from the adults: I'd invite them and they'd often look up our 20-stair staircase, crinkle up their faces and say, "Up there???" Some would blurt out, "I'm not going up there," and wouldn't. Others couldn't stop their kids from insisting to go up, or just bounding fearlessly up the stairs alone or way in front of a scrambling mom or dad. The funniest reaction was the "no way" response of adults with the "you gotta be kidding me!" look on their worried faces. I have to admit when it sunk in we'd be living on the third floor (20 stairs added to the first 20), I was wondering how I was going to manage that every day. Interestingly, if it a dad didn't want to venture up period, he'd just grab junior's little hand, look resolutely forward, and say, "Nope, we're not going up there," and off they went.

I need to mention how great the team was. Larry was a trooper, taking photo after photo, good-natured all the way. Tricia set up and orchestrated everything to keep it all flowing. Jenn and Karin greeted people and helped Larry so we could get the processed photo to each family in 5 minutes or so. Janet manned the craft table, and kept it all flowing there; Amelia helped. Trey and Kevin joined me manning the front door downstairs and inviting folks upstairs. Hannah and her roommate, Emma, welcomed and handed out the candy to the kids. Tricia and Karin replenished the food table often. Then went it was all over, Jenn and Kristen took food upstairs, and vacuumed the place of straw (we had 2 bales of hay and pumpkins), leaves from outdoors, and spilled food. I have to say, we know how to do this stuff!

Most importantly, we all had a grand opportunity to love and serve people because we are followers of Jesus. Halloween for us is a Kingdom mission to be outrageously generous, kind, and hospitable; to go beyond people's expectations; to surprise them with love and warmth. More than one happy mother and  father wanted to know why we were being  so nice; why were we offering what others weren't? Most of you realize we wanted them to know the Lover of their souls, Jesus Christ. He's the point, the only point for everything we try to do. We think helping them "see" him comes through genuine encounters and relationships which go above and beyond what people are used to from "strangers." They grow curious because they're surprised by delight, and it didn't cost them anything, but trudging up some stairs.

To top it off, yesterday, an employee I've recently met at the Northampton Chamber of Commerce (of which we're a member), sent me an email reporting a couple of families had shown up at their office that same night and mentioned what they'd experienced at imagine. We also heard folks were telling others on the street to come to our place because of what we were doing. I like that and want more. I want more because I want people to discover the deepest delight for their souls is Christ who is more than they imagine, and then some.

Talking The Attitude Of Wonder With A Gentle Man Of The Garden.

Last Saturday night as I was tending to the gallery a man I'm acquainted with came through the door. He looked at me and I him. We both smiled recognizing one another. I'll call him Michael; that's not his name, but I want to keep his identity his. As we greeted, he mentioned he wasn't aware I was tied to the gallery. Saturday was the first time he'd been here. We'd not talked that much before for him to know I was affiliated with the imagine ART Gallery.

We recognize each other from the Organic Community Garden in Florence where he's been somewhat of a fixture, and we're finishing our first growing season as the imagine/Northampton plot. I met him early on because he was easy to talk with, and seems to enjoy conversation. I showed him around the gallery's current exhibit. He appeared to enjoy it thoroughly. As we went from one piece to the next, we shared our views about art and how important it is as a creative human expression. Michael mentioned he'd done some art as a young man, but hadn't kept up with it. Even so, he'd always appreciated artists and what they could create.

Near the end of our conversation, he alluded to a traumatic brain injury he'd sustained a few years back. His recovery has been slow, but steady in that the injuries he sustained affected his ability to walk and talk. By the way, he spoke the ordeal was no small thing. If he'd never said anything I would have been completely unaware he suffered a devastating accident from the times I'd seen and talked to him. He said it took a long while to regain his ability to speak and get around. Even now he has good days and days not so good.

I noted with such serious and life altering injuries, people can feel depressed and even bitter about what had come upon them. I remarked he never has shown evidence of that when I've been around him. He responded by talking about keeping an attitude of wonder. When he did, his face lit up with a smile. He admitted he would allow himself to be angry about what had befallen him, but at some point realized he could choose to focus on all the good still in his life. He added, for instance, how he could watch the bees go about their work in the garden and get absorbed for a couple of hours. Such absorption is key to seeing the wonder all around us, by the way. It should be cultivated carefully and persistently in my opinion, but I digress. He also talked about the joys and skills of roasting his own coffee (using an old pressure cooker and modifying with a Rube Goldberg-esque type of contraption he rigged) from raw beans bought in Florence every couple of weeks so as to enjoy the coffee like he can get nowhere else.Wonder indeed!

To me it, was very clear Michael had made a choice -- and kept to it -- to observe the world from the focused perspective of joy, delight, and wonder, in spite of how his life had been altered irrevocably by suffering. He said he saw no point in being bitter when there was still so much to see and enjoy all around. him. The world wasn't his oyster, but he wouldn't let it be a veil of tears either.

Michael is a "spiritual man" as are many folks in Northampton; you know: I'm not religious; I'm spiritual.They talk a certain way and have a kind of interior quiet one can see, especially the folks who've been at it for years. In our conversation, he told me of a book he'd just read by Ram Dass who according to Wikipedia is "an American contemporary spiritual teacher and the author of the seminal 1971 book Be Here Now. (Dass) is known for his personal and professional associations with Timothy Leary at Harvard University in the early 1960s, for his travels to India and his relationship with the Hindu guru Neem Karoli Baba. I was aware of him from my college days; in those days, he was Baba Ram Dass. The book Michael had just finished was Still Here. He recommended it highly so I could glean a perspective he found valuable. I let it go at that.

I like him and hope to get to know him better. He's is a gentle and kind man, passionate about raising food well (organically), and sharing it with others. He loves the idea of giving it away or planting stuff so others can freely take it, such as the raspberry patch he turned me on to at the Florence garden.There seems no guile in him. I always find it refreshing to be around folks who ably recognize wonder in simple things; what others walk past with nary a glance. I'm not around people like him enough; I suspect most of us aren't because of the unexamined, plugged-in busyness we all tend to live. When I am around people with eyes, ears and hearts for wonder, that lightness of being I've referred to in other blogs settles on me for a bit and I'm opened to a quiet, easy joy.

Our plans are to plant again next year and we'll have two plots to instead of one. So, there'll be more chances to chat with him. I look forward to it. I'd especially like him to come to know the God behind the bees and all their wondrous work. He just needs to look a little closer. Maybe I, or we can help him.

The Simple Gift of Saying "Good Morning."

On our early morning prayerwalks, it's become our custom to offer folks we pass by or who pass by us, a gentle, friendly "Good Morning." We're careful not to push our way into someone's sleepy plodding toward the gym or practice; or interrupt those ear-plugged and wanting no interaction by their fixed gaze forward. Boundaries are boundaries.

But I've always felt a warm "Good Morning" is a simple gesture of wishing blessing on people, including strangers. Most of us get plenty of non-blessing from people around us during the week. So to offer God's unmerited favor, kindness and goodness toward people is an act of love, however simply expressed. It's a small gift worthy of saying because of it's deeper meaning.

I did a little digging into the origin and meaning of the good morning phrase: The following is from folks who contributed to a variety of wiki's and forums on the etymology of words.

Good morning:

"... started as 'morn', meaning the time just before sunrise, in Old English. By the 13 century, it had become 'morning'. 'Good' started as Old English. 'god' (with a long "o") "having the right or desirable quality"

'Good Morning' as we use it started as a greeting, 'have a good morning' The use of the shortened version 'Good morning ' dates from around 1400, as 'gode morwene'.

There is agreement among etymologists that Goodbye, Good morning, Good afternoon, etc.  all derive from the word 'God'; (Goodbye specifically from 'God be with you'.) and times of the day inserted accordingly;
All these greeting and parting expressions are found in earliest literature; recorded as early as 1200 in Layamon's 'Chronicle of Britain)

Through similar routes The Oxford English Dictionary indicates that "Good morning" and "Good night" derive from "[May] God give you [a] good night." and "[May] God give you [a] good day."

I love the notion of "Good Morning" as as "May God give you a good day." I imagine all of us, whether we believe in God or not, wouldn't refuse having a good day in favor of having a bad or awful day. We bless people with a gift of grace and goodness when we say "Good Morning."

Something I've noticed more than once over the last few months when I or Tricia wish a person we don't know such a blessing, is they look at us as if surprised, smile and offer "Good Morning" back. For most, they didn't expect it which suggests they don't get many, and I bet most of us don't say it very much to strangers. I know sharing this greeting means looking at someone, being a bit vulnerable, and offering the gift with no expectation of return. Not easy at first. We're all fairly well indoctrinated in not getting into "someone's space."

And occasionally we do misread someone, make the offer, and they resolutely refuse to look at us as they pass by. I don't know why -- they just ignore it. In one of my very early blogposts 3 or 4 years ago, I wrote of saying, "Good Morning" to a woman sitting on a porch and she immediately shot back in anger: "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO ME!!!" You can bet I was very gun-shy of offering the greeting to people I didn't know for a long time. She's the exception; most give the gift back with eye contact and a quick smile.

But, I see it as another way of offering God's love and grace to people. We are here to connect folks with his heart through Jesus, and his Kingdom ways. The simple gift of saying, "Good Morning" is a small step in the right Kingdom direction as the day begins, but a really benevolent one.

So here's a challenge: if you're not in the habit of doing so, try it for a month with people you walk by in the morning while out walking the dog, going for a run, biking, or just stopping for coffee. See if what I 've experienced will be true for you too. It feels good ,and many folks receive it as it was intended.

Let me know how it turns out.

Talking On Our Corner To A Young Man With a Cause.

If you come into Northampton fairly regularly, you've noticed various folks handing out flyers for all sorts of causes and events, or with clipboards in hand asking if they can have a "minute of your time." For the last number of months, Planned Parenthood volunteers have been doing that very thing.

They're usually young, friendly, trained in how to have such a conversation, and supportive of the cause they're representing. I've never heard one get into an argument with anyone while engaging the person. Their purpose is not to debate; it's to get support for the cause.

On Sunday after church, I ventured out to help Tricia carry her bags to the car so she could spend an overnight in Farmington caring for her mother. As I walked out our front door a young man in front of the light post on the corner asked if he could talk to me about something? I said, in passing him, I wasn't interested and went to the car. I did make brief eye contact though.

When I returned shortly after, we looked at each other, and he asked in a pleasant way how I was doing? I said I was well and returned the question. He was well also. Then, he asked if he could talk with me. I walked toward him and he asked if I knew of Planned Parenthood. I asked for his name and he told me. I told him mine and shook his hand.

Almost immediately, I said I don't support the work of Planned Parenthood, especially when it involves abortion. I explained I'd never supported it even in the 60's when I first became aware of it. He quickly responded something like, with all the unwanted pregnancies of young girls, couldn't I see that it helped them before they were ready to be a mother. I said with no rancor, I'm a follower of Jesus and because I am, I see every person as having a soul loved by God, including the unborn child. God loves them. They, and then I looked him in the eye, and you, have more value to him than any of us can imagine. So, I could never support the aborting of these children.

I added, I know you believe in what you're representing, but I just as much believe what I hold to be true. With that we looked at other. He smiled and nodded. We shook hands and I went back into the building.
By the way, no voices were raised.

I write about this because, it has been many, many years since I would say something like that publicly. I'm an introvert tending to listen to others in public and only ask simple questions, if I know them. But on my early morning prayerwalks I've been asking God to speak healing into those parts of me which irrationally hold back my voice, especially in public situations as I encountered. And he's gradually doing it! It's amazing to me.

Along with slowly healing my voice, I want, and are praying for a gracious, gentle fierceness to open the Gospel to people who don't "see" Jesus. That's what I came for, but its been a struggle which seems to be loosening its hold on me because of God's grace and healing. I want to engage more questions of faith and life with strangers and friends who don't profess Christ. Such conversations are life and truth.

I recently read of someone who was not a Christian complain about Christians that if they really believed what Jesus said, who he was, and what he did, they would courageously and sacrificially live their lives publicly as if it was true and not be silent about it with anyone. The opposite,"covert" Christianity which I practiced by default is pleasant and respectable to insiders, irrelevant to outsiders, but sheer impotence for Kingdom mission. It's spiritual lunacy if Jesus is really Jesus and wasn't kidding when he said he is "the way the truth and the life" so his followers are to: "go and make disciples, teaching them to obey what I commanded you." He said he'd be with us as we go.

I'm grateful for the gradual freeing "vocal" training I'm getting. I hope it doesn't stop. Just this morning, I told Tricia I want to see the Kingdom manifest with the same salvific power as it did in the New Testament era, and it does now more often in Asia, Africa, the Middle East and South America. I know such Kingdom life can be costly if actually embraced, but authenticity comes with sacrifice in the Way of Christ. Kingdom authenticity is worth it if we get to see how the Kingdom actually works in freeing the captives, giving sight to the blind, and proclaiming the year of the Lord's favor.

By the way, when I was speaking to the young man in Sunday it felt spiritually as if the Holy Spirit was aiming right at his heart, almost as a plea or invitation, but with authority.

Supporting Intervarsity's Ice Cream Social at Smith College.

A week ago last Friday evening, Tricia and I packed up 2 large canvas bags with homemade chocolate, caramel and fruit sauces, plus pecan chocolate chip, and granola cookies. We headed over to Smith College and set up shop in a room of the Campus Center. Some of the Ministry Team was there, including Liz Booher, the new IV Staff person.

The event we were supporting was the third InterVarsity Ice Cream Social we've volunteered to serve for. It gives us a chance to support the IV team as they connect with new students, for students to connect with who we are as imagine/Northampton.

The team lined up four tables in the event room where we'd be; folks from College Church and First Baptist would serve the ice cream as the girls came down the line. We'd serve the sauces and point/invite them to the sprinkles, Gummy Bears, whipped cream, walnuts, homemade cookies and maraschino cherries. Elizabeth had a sense there would be a large turnout because the team had sent a challenge to all the houses that whichever house had the most attendees at the social, they'd receive $100 gift certificate to Herrell's Ice Cream in Northampton. If you've been to Herrell's you know it's worth the effort to try and win.

When hearing of the challenge before things got underway, we were a little concerned we'd run out of homemade sauces, but understood we were there to support the IV Team first, and then let people know we were representing imagine/Northampton to connect with some who might be interested in finding a church. It wasn't about plenteous sauce; it was about what Jesus is doing through IV at Smith that night.

Right about 7PM, a line started to form of Smithies ready for free ice cream. The energy elevated. I was excited to see the potential for IV. So for the next hour and a half, Tricia ladled sauces, and I directed the girls to the toppings, and replenished whipped cream cans, and cookies. Women from freshman to seniors showed up. It was fun listening to them get excited about sprinkles, homemade chocolate and caramel sauce, Gummy Bears, homemade cookies and whipped cream. Some "complained" they were crazy for even eating this stuff at all, and others where like kids on Christmas morning. Many of them thanked us for being there and doing this and voiced their delight in having such a treat. Some picked up our contact information.

At the end of the night, Elizabeth told me they went beyond what they thought they'd have even knowing the plausibility have a large turnout. She mentioned a number of the women signed interest cards and would be followed up with. The point of the night was to create trust. I think she and the team did just that.

For Tricia and I, it was another opportunity to support what God is doing at Smith through these wonderful young women who see such Kingdom potential, and reach out to open hearts. We've had the privilege of knowing the IV Staff person at Smith, first Crystal Fryer, now Liz Booher almost since our first year here. And we've have Smith students coming to imagine for 4 of our 5 years. If we can play a part in supporting God's initiatives at Smith we will with hearts full in.

Please pray for Elizabeth and the team as they open the way for women to know and trust him, and pray we will care well for the Smithies who are sharing their journey with us. May Jesus be very visible on the Smith Campus, at imagine/Northampton, and on Main Street!

The Industrious Can Collector.

I've seen him for that last two. He's a black man in his 50's. He usually wears a cap, and sometimes a kerchief tied around his neck. I've had the opportunity to talk with him briefly a few times. He's warm and affable with an easy smile or chuckle. He's intelligent and looks you in the eye. And he's mentioned the Lord as if he knows him.

I see him all over the downtown, and the closely surrounding neighborhoods -- often in the early morning, but it can a bit later.With him he pulls a large grocery carts crammed to the hilt with returnable cans and bottles. Hung heavily on the cart are large trash bags full of the same treasure. I've seen him search dumpsters and garbage cans behind the businesses on Main Street, but he also searches garbage cans on the adjacent  streets. It must take a number of hours to make all his rounds on foot and get the thing loaded. Knowing Northampton, I suspect people leave returnables for him as he makes his rounds. If you saw him when his cart is chocked full and putting in the effort he's making, you realize it's a cumbersome and heavy beast, especially navigating street-crossing when the traffic is busy, or pulling the unwieldy thing up over curbs. He's earning every bit of his "paycheck."

I refer to him as industrious because he's consistent and works very hard. Whatever misfortune has befallen him, he's making the best of it by working every day to make money so he can eat, maybe even have a room somewhere. He shows up each morning and is at the task, sometimes even a bit before sunrise. He's different from the folks who've chosen to sit and ask for money from passers-by each day. He takes whatever we throw out or cast aside, gathers it and tries to earn his daily bread. He's not looking for a hand out beyond what we throw out. Maybe he gets state or federal assistance, but he doesn't leave it at that because he's working like everyone else who gets up and heads to their place of employment.

I respect him very much for his attitude, his diligence, and work ethic. As I mentioned, when I've had a minute or two to talk with him he's humble, with a cheerfulness which belies a hard life, although I'll bet he has a story, like so many of these folks on the street which was anything but happy. It may have even have been horrific.

As far as I can see, he's working like everyone who's trying to make a living. I don't know how he actually feels about his lot in life, but by watching him, he's not feeling sorry for himself or giving up.

More opportunity to him, and may the Lord magnificently bless all his industry beyond anything he ever imagined.

Two Brief Interactions This Morning On My Prayerwalk in Northampton.

I was out early as usual, before sun-up. I walked to the same place as usual; at the same pace as usual. I was alone. Tricia is in Ventnor closing up the house for the fall.

My first interaction was with a couple we've seen who come to Smith Athletic fields to exercise and play tennis. She looks younger than he. I don't know if they're married. They come to the fields most days we're there, and at about the same time. I'd just finished the first half of some very earnest praying and was walking over the bridge heading away from the fields when I saw they were heading down to cross the bridge.

Now before I go further, I have to let you know my praying is changing. It's becoming more bold, focused, and vehement. I won't go into why that's so for now, but something really good is up with my praying. Anyway, I've also noticed with these latest prayerwalks I'm much more open to engage the folks I encounter. There's a greater freedom in me. To be fair, both Tricia and I say, "Good Morning" to most everyone we walk by. We see it as a blessing; the wishing of all good; God's manifest blessing for the people we pass whether they know him of not. But we really don't encounter a chance to stop and talk with folks much.

So when I was within earshot of this I blurted: "Who's winning?" We often see them playing tennis. I think he's been teaching her. She, with a bright smile from ear to ear, immediately exclaimed, "I AM!!!" He, laughing, shouted out: "NO, YOU'RE NOT! LIAR!!!" I responded, "Oh, I seeeee ..." We all laughed as we passed by each other, and went our ways. Why I write of this is we've been running into them often in the morning. They're a friendly couple which means perhaps an opportunity will arise for us to get to know each other, maybe even become friends. They are quite a bit younger, but who knows. Also, normally I wouldn't have said something like that to them, but after praying I'm taking more risks.

So on I went continuing my earnest praying. Fifteen minutes into it on State Street. I had my second encounter. About 25 yards in front of me and heading my way was a short elderly woman in her 80's. She had a walker and was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk I was on just staring at me. I wasn't particularly friendly. As I got within15 yards, I thought, "I'll walk in the street near the curb so she can pass by and not have to wait. To do so, I had to walk around a parked car on my right. As I got around the car, I looked up, and with a stern gaze and pointing finger, she commanded, "You get back on this sidewalk!" I did so immediately, saying "Yes, ma'am," (not sarcastically, by the way). She wasn't kidding. She then scolded, "The roads are not safe with all the cars today." So just before I passed her, I said, "Thank you that's very kind. I was just showing you respect." At that, her faced softened, and she gave a me lovely smile, while also with her hand, made one of those, "Oh, go on ..." gestures. She was still smiling so I touched her shoulder lightly as I passed.

She reminded me of my mother and grandmother with the advice she gave. I have to say, I loved the smile I put on her face and the gesture of respect she heard I showed her sincerely. I don't know if she gets much of that in her life, or if she feels the reason to smile a great deal. But God granted two opportunities within 15 minutes to bless people so they laughed or smiled at the beginning of the day.

I'm telling you, God is up to something in the way he's helping me pray on these walks. I don't know how long it'll last, but I want more of it. I want to see his power manifest because of how he's helping me pray. I also want to see him recognized and glorified in the results of such prayer. Admittedly, I do want the people blessed because of my praying on their behalf, but I want the Most High seen for being set apart as he is, and worthy of our heartfelt praise.   

Separated Together: Thoughts From A Boardwalk Pericope.

I live in the small city of Northampton, Massachusetts, Noho prides itself on it's diversity and progressive sensibilities. So I see all manner of people on Main Street. When I lived at the Center For Renewal in Simsbury, Connecticut the culture in which I was embedded was substantially more homogeneous; Noho's heterogeneity took a bit of getting used to mostly because the folks I spent most of my time with were very much like me. After five years, I've gotten very used to the Paradise City's people; those living there for many years, or living there for a time (such as students at Smith), or just passing through.

For most summers of my married life which just happens to be a little less than 2/3rds of my life so far, we've vacationed in Ventnor, New Jersey at the summer home of Tricia's family just a block away from the Boardwalk and beach. In fact, our kids remember it more than any other summer vacation spot we visited, although there weren't that many.

My purpose for writing relates to an experience Tricia and I had on our the late afternoon walk heading north to Atlantic City. Depending which direction you take and how far you want to go, the walk can be anywhere from 2 miles to 10 miles round-trip. We decided to go to up to the Boat Mall in AC, a round-trip of 4.5 miles. It's a trek we've made daily for years.

As we got nearer AC proper the number of people increased. We weren't sure if there'd be a crowd because it was the end of the 4th of July weekend when many weekenders head home after a final day at the beach.When we got to the first casino there was quite a crowd and the diversity was a melting pot of humanity. There were black folks (many from AC), white folks (casino patrons or walkers up from Ventnor and Margate), Latinos from Mexico, Central and South America, Asians from Korea, Vietnam, Japan and China) and Arabs, the men wearing white caps called taqiyahs, and the women wearing scarfs or hajibs. They gathered in families, couples, singles, groups of teens, old people, gays and straights, poor and wealthy, addicts, street performers, police and casino workers.

You could hear more than one language being spoken openly as people strolled on the Boardwalk together. There were street performers, one of them playing Jesus Loves Me on tenor saxophone, people sitting at outdoor restaurants on the Boardwalk, or at outdoor bars on the beach. Some, like us, were strolling through the results of a sandcastle competition; others were coming onto the Boardwalk from the AC Beach still in bathing suits, and with dripping kids in tow. There were people everywhere.

I take note of it first because in my view was a Sunday afternoon melting pot snapshot of humanity. Everyone there sharing a common space and experience. It felt a little like bazaar scenes I've seen in movies. I know such scenes go on all over the world, but I was struck in the moment at God's creation of peoples, cultures, languages, and traditions. I was also struck that we were together in proximity, but far apart from relating to one another other than walking the same Boardwalk. We all kept to ourselves and what we were doing. We were separate together.

I realize it's a common experience to gather in places for an event or stroll, and not really engage people other than who you're with. For some reason it just stood out to me to me our different cultures mixed together with little or no interacting beyond a look, if that. And we are separated by more than just proximity or race.  For instance, pundits and commentators have observed it's becoming more common for immigrants in the US to speak their native language here as much, or more than English (if they learn it at all). I've experienced seeing that too. When it happens, we it feels to me become another degree separated; I don't know what you're saying, nor you me. We can't really connect in any substantial way even if we wanted.

So we gradually settle further into being strangers together. Conversely, being able to talk and share points of view builds a bridge between people. Yeah, I know we're becoming more contentious and distrusting as we navigate through really tough times of emotionally strong and competing worldviews, but unless we find and share a common language through which we can hear one another's hearts, we're in deep trouble. Not talking honestly and listening well works to foment untested suspicion and foolhardy anger. They naturally build on themselves through hearsay, even willful deceit.

Perhaps I wouldn't have noticed the separation so much except for the fact I'm taking more notice of the deepening social divisions (and anger) occurring in our country. I'm more troubled by it than ever before. Our widening socioeconomic inequities fueling some of this are real. But our American culture seems to be coarsening, in general. You know I lived as a participant through the socio-political turmoil of the 60's, but  I now view much of that era as the opening of a social Pandora's Box resulting in horrors. I know that's a strong statement, but for decades I've had to pick up the pieces of lives shattered by the drug culture, sexual "freedom," the unholy trinity of "me, myself and I,"and the dreary entitlement ethos. There's a dark side to what's occurring as we divide more and more over morality, politics, race, and rights. Something quite menacing is afoot.

At the same time, I think the churches of the missional way have extraordinary opportunities to cross divides as peacemakers, ambassadors for civility, and champions of the Gospel of True Freedom and Community. We should avoid any impulse to bury our heads in our sub-cultures so that we fail to be what Christ summons us to. Hatred and self-absorbed ignorance will grow like a cancer if we remain sequestered in our safe zones merely content to pray, sing, and be fed by bible study and Sunday worship. What if we started being courageous citizens of the Kingdom who are also gracious servant citizens of our neighborhoods, schools and workplaces? And what if we crossed the divide to where the chronic poor and broken among us stay ghettoed downtown or a few blocks over? Could we break down walls and weaken the separation with kindness, compassion, and understanding?

Shouldn't we? If not the Church and other like-minded servant hearts, then who?

Encountering Two Men Of God

The first man is in his 40's. It happened this week. His build is stocky. He has a brilliant smile which lights his face. He tears up often, but laughs heartily just as often. There's an ease about him which invites approach and conversation. No guile appears in his demeanor or carriage. If you spied him on the street nothing remarkable would detain your eye.

I met him recently and heard his story. After our meeting I was struck by the palpable reality I'd been in the presence of a man of God. If I told him that's my take after meeting he would've been shocked and uncomfortable. He is humble.

I don't use the term "man of God" often or carelessly. In fact, I'm pretty confident I've only met a few in my lifetime who truly fit the definition I hold. A man of God to me is unself-consciously saturated with the love for God and the love of God for others, especially for sinners, outcasts, the oppressed, the unruly, offensive, and invisible ones. Such a man is overwhelmed with the astounding idea of the love of Jesus "for someone like me." a selfish sinner who needs grace and mercy continually.  He is easily and regularly enthralled with the reality that Jesus would do for him what he did. I've also noticed such men are dedicated, and I mean persistently, to the desperate need of everyone to know the Savior Jesus Christ. They somehow grasp the Unseen REAL beyond what most others do, and they take no credit for it. It's just present to them all the time, and very compelling.

In our conversation, we talked of many things and I discovered, because of his love for God and for people, he spends much of his day as he goes about his business watching and praying. It's normal to him. He notices people and talked about a gift of discernment where if he engages someone, which he does even at his work (especially the difficult folks), he sees something about who they are including what's troubling them. He's not afraid to stop what he's doing and goes right up to the person to introduce himself. He said that often in minutes the person is either in tears and telling him, a stranger, of deep pain, or is opening to the Gospel. When he told me each story he'd laugh, slap his leg, or cry, and talk of how much he loved the person he was talking to. Remarkably, the place where he works is not Christian, but he's won favor with the owners because the folks who come by love him and show it.

As a man of prayer he'll often pray for the town and for each home or business he passes. Notable  to me also is the fact God has placed him where he is doing damage to Satan's strongholds. He is helping free captives of darkness. He said he's just drawn to such people. He's not afraid of anyone and will engage them no matter. Because of that he encounters substantial and increasing spiritual warfare. He knows he's in a fight, but the gift of salvation he's been given in Jesus compels him to go after folks spiritually blind and chronically adrift. He wants the lost, found and liberated.

Near the end of our conversation, he began to sob as he talked of the state of the church in America, especially the intolerance he sees coming from churches which would never reach out to certain categories of sinners.  With tears streaming from his eyes, he blurted out "I just love those people so much and they need to know God loves them too.Why is the church doing this?" It was naked and powerful, coming  from deep inside a transformed heart full of grace and love. The unadorned honesty was stunning to me. When he left, I knew immediately I'd been in the presence of a man of God. There was no mistaking it.

I hope to see him again. My soul is lifted and my is heart refreshed in such unexpected encounters.They inspire me to pray for the charity and freedom he has to love others no matter who they are, or if they respond or not. Also, the passionate love for and loyalty to God he radiates with no guile moves me to change and free up too. If you think about it, pray Jesus would be so kind to grant me such passion and liberation.

*****

The second encounter with a man of God came to mind as I thought about writing this post. It was precipitated by the fact he recently went home to God. I haven't seen him in at least 15 years, maybe more. I met him in Connecticut as we were part of a new member's small group at church. I heard of his passing from a member of his family.

This man was also a man of God to me because, although he had a very different personality than the man above, he had the same uncompromising and persistent love for God with the fire to make him known to others, especially non-believers. The difference between him and the man I just wrote about is he had a very difficult personality which could be easily off-putting to folks, especially his Christian brethren. He told it like he saw it, often without filtering, or considering how it might be received. More than once,  folks would get mad at him or remove themselves from his company.

What drew me to him was his unabashed love of Christ and the Gospel. This man had struggled with a very serious addiction and knew God had helped him overcome it. His dedication to Christ who delivered him was deep and tenacious.He was what has been termed a "true believer." He lived and breathed it every day as his prime directive.

For me, with a few notable exceptions, most of the Christians I was around didn't manifest the same raging fire in their bellies for Jesus, or a driving passion to open others to him, especially for the outcasts and chronically troubled ones in our midst. My brother's difficult personalty enabled him to get below deflecting BS from folks used to lying or posing to maintain their destructive lifestyle. His love was fierce, unsentimental and aimed at confronting the powers of evil which kept people entrapped in their own dangerous delusions. He was a "storm the gates" kinda guy - a "what'er we waitin' for," Kingdom fighter who went after souls others would be afraid of or dismiss as too much trouble. His was a tough love, but a deep and genuine love no less.

My brother is dancing in the courts of the King now. His passion and commitment were like a mirror to me, reflecting my own hesitation and immature, self-absorbed cowardice. I admired him for his authenticity. He challenged, even scared me a little by his example, and I knew he was a man of God because of his sheer dedication and fierce love for Christ. He wasn't a man of tears; he was a man of bull-headed conviction which drove him to be counter-cultural, often going only with his Lord and his drive to seek and liberate the bent and broken. His joy was being in the thick of a rescue mission, down in the dirt, and deep in the struggle. He was saturated with the love of God and knew how far God had reached into his addicted heart to pull him toward true love. He wanted that reality for others and went often to go get them

I don't how many other men of God I'll get to encounter in the days ahead, but hope there will be many more. When I do, I know the Kingdom way is real, the love of God is beautiful beyond containing, and there is no life or worldly pleasure worth pursuing from the depths of our hearts other than being servants of the Most High.

If you have stories of the men or women of God you've had the great pleasure of knowing in your life, send them to me and maybe I'll put them on this blog.

Our Two Encounters of the Towing Kind.

If you've read my blog for awhile you might remember a very early post where I wrote of my frustration with discouraging folks from parking in our rented private space. We've put up cones and had 5 of them stolen. I've also stated we really don't like towing people who refuse to read the signs posted and park there anyway.

Every time we leave our space to go somewhere we pray when we return no one would be parking there. It's true! Our landlord and others in the building renting adjacent spaces have told us the only alternative is to tow them. As I mentioned above, we honestly don't like doing that because it's $135, plus storage fees at $25 per hour. We know folks come into town to shop, have a meal, visit one of the pubs, or go to a concert. They're just looking to have a nice time out. I get it ... another reason why I don't relish towing them.

But recently, I've soured any leaning toward compassion in the matter. A couple of months ago in the afternoon we were coming home from some sort of errand and there ensconced in our parking spot was a car. All the other parking spaces adjacent to ours were empty. Grrrrr. So, we know the routine and called the towing company who've become very familiar with us (since March, the need to tow has picked up substantially because McLadden's Pub just opened right around the corner). A few minutes after they called, we spotted two young men in their 20's walking to the car carrying what looked like cake boxes. Just as they were about to get in I said, "Hey guys, you're parking in our private space and were about to get towed." The young guy on the driver's side smirked and said, "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. GRRRRR." I retorted, "You think we're kidding? Why don't you just sit right there for another 5 minutes and you'll see how much we're kidding!"

The kid on the passenger side looked surprised and said, "what are you doing that for? We just came to pick up some cakes." I replied, "That might be true, but why should we have to wait for you to do that when it's our space? We don't where the owner of the car is or how long they'll be there. Like you, people give us all sorts of reasons why we should let them park there 'for just a minute.'" He gave me a "that's BS" brushoff." They got in the car and left.

Don't you just love attitudes of entitlement!!! I know I do.

The second encounter was more upsetting  because of the person's quick and self-righteous judgment of people she doesn't know.

Last week we were coming back from somewhere and, once again, someone was in our spot. All the adjacent parking spaces were empty. We summoned the tow truck which showed up in about 7 minutes. The driver hooked up the car, and was done in about 5 minutes. We pulled into our space, got out our stuff and started to leave when this petite women in her late 40's or early 50's walked up and offered, "Well that was a pretty a__hole thing to do, don't you think?" "No, I don't," I said back. "You didn't need to tow them," she responded. "Yes, I did because it's our space and they have no right to park there!" She looked at the adjacent spaces and shot back, pointing, "You could've parked in any one of those." I said, "No, we couldn't have because they're private too, and would tow us. It happened before with our daughter." I continued, "Look at it this way: if you go home tonight and someone you didn't know just decided they're staying in your house for the night, you wouldn't respond, "Oh, sure, I'll just get a hotel room." When I said that, she nodded slightly and gave me a subtle facial gesture suggesting, "You got a point there." But, then she  turned slowly  and as she was walking away left us with: "Well, as long as you can live with yourself." I was annoyed and surprised by her words so I snippily retorted, "We do that quite well, ma'am."

I'm not proud of saying that last thing, but I have to say I was confused and angry at why she felt the need to say anything at all to us. We don't know each other. It was as if, to her, we were in the wrong and just needed to let people park there whenever. To tow them was over-the-top, or unfair, or un-neighborly, I guess.

As I thought more about it, I realized my frustration with the two young men, and then with her was that the folks who ignore the signs, steal the cones, and park where they please have no responsibility to the people who pay for the spaces. The latter are supposed to yield to the interlopers who feel entitled to use that spot because it was empty and for the taking - first come; first served, I guess? In both situations we were judged as being unreasonable and unkind. We needed to yield, period. Our small inconvenience did not match what towing would cause them. That's true, but if we did nothing people would park there all the time. We've tested it, especially since the pub opened.

The reality is: we pay for the space. It is ours to park in or not. We need no one else's permission to do so, especially someone who just decides they're going to take the space as they please. By the way, it is clearly marked that the space is reserved parking, and non-compliers will be towed at their own expense. You takes yer chances if you ignore the warning.

As I said, we don't enjoy towing, but we also don't like being taken advantage of, or being summarily judged by someone who knows us not. No one likes either of those two injustices.

So, we'll continue to pray no one parks there, and continue to tow if they do. Sometimes people need to say, "No, you can't."

Empathy: Brokenness Sojourning Near Brokenness.

Over the last number of months God has made me aware of a deep wisdom. He's kindly let me see that when people are their most human they've let their brokenness sojourn empathetically with the brokenness of someone else, staying near physically or emotionally to gently and respectfully comfort, encourage, and heal. They've drawn and stayed alongside of someone else's heartache, sin or shame to lend a compassionate ear or hold out a lifting hand. Such people do so until others heal, strengthen, and get back on their feet.

I like this definition of empathy: the ability to see oneself in another’s place and understand the other’s feelings, desires, ideas, and actions. The operative words for me are imagine and understand and other. Experiencing your own painful brokenness enables you to come near another's wretched messiness because you know what it feels to be lost, alone, overwhelmed and ashamed. I used the word sojourn to capture the idea of staying in place, abiding for the time that is needed. Empathy comes near, even if haltingly at first, but it watches and listens at the level of the heart for find the human connection which acts like a bridge to the other heart. There is freedom in empathy because we lower your well-used defensiveness to help bear the burden of another who bleeds and cries like we do sometimes. We see a person rather than as a stranger or, worse, an enemy.

I know for many of us it feels counter-intuitive to see our brokenness can build a bridge to someone else's. Brokenness is failure and shameful, maddeningly so. Am I not supposed to be cleaned up before I should even try to wipe the blood, sweat, and tears off you? I'm positive I'll be no expert for your pain or fear. Plus my brokenness is dirty and ugly. Being broken is not an asset or a tool. It's to be locked away. I have a persona to protect and a dignity to preserve.

When we are at our least humane (marked or motivated by concern with the alleviation of suffering:) we instinctively distance ourselves from human brokenness: ours and theirs. Leave the mess to someone else better qualified or who has the time. Distancing can also be locating ourselves above the human condition, thinking thoughts like: "well, I'd never do that, or "I'm not like him," or, "Sure, I'm not perfect, but at least I don't [fill in the blank]." Pride hates brokenness so it puffs up and papers over reality from a distance. When we indict the brokenness in other people, we lose humane sight and empathy shrivels. Pride is also a deceiver of the first order, an enemy of the heart, really. Accepted brokenness confounds and deflates pride. That's good.

I think empathy is most humane when it sojourns near brokenness of another because it knows the loneliness of unyielding brokenness which fills a person with shame and fear. Someone who's come to grips with his or her existential brokenness learns to defuse the corrosive heart cancer of shame because brokenness is the human condition. No one escapes it. And such a person sees parasitic fear for what it is, a sleight-of-hand charlatan that requires a willing participant; one who'll agree with only one way of looking at a threat or a problem, and accepting immediately it's going to turn out bad.

But when I let my brokenness come near that of another without judgment or lame platitudes, I offer them the freedom to drop their guard and accept help. And if I stick around beyond the initial helping something miraculous takes place: the person I help loosens a grip on self-sufficiency, opens to grace, and learns the freedom of being given what they need with no strings attached. Both the giver and the receiver display a kind of nakedness here. No pretense or illusion of self-sufficiency pervades this transaction. I'm coming near you as I am, or you're coming near me as you are; no one is superior. No one has it together; there is just connecting in the place of brokenness and need. This time it's your turn to receive.

The real deal is to stick with it when brokenness is not healed, or relieved in a reasonable amount of time in the other. I've had varying degrees of success with this. The good news is I've been made aware of my limits when it comes to sojourning with someone else's brokenness. There are limits, although I think most of us abandon the helping well before we have nothing left to give. In my work I've had a few folks with whom I could see no way to go any further with them. I had nothing left to give including my frayed brokenness. I was empty and rattled. Sojourning would have left me seriously wounded and in danger of deepening my brokenness too far. So I see a boundary. Each time was painful and they've been a small percentage of all the folks I've sojourned with. I wish the percentage was zero. Not in this world.

If you're reading this I'd like you to do some soul-searching and see where your limits of empathy are. Look to see if you have short limits and why. Ask God to show you.When he does, ask him to help you extend the boundaries so the wisdom and grace you've learned from your brokenness can sojourn with others more deeply when the Spirit picks you to get involved. Also, where do you refuse to let folks see your brokenness so they have little awareness of your need for them to come in close. where do you live in the illusion of self-sufficiency? Where is pride your guide in this illusion? 

A sober understanding of our brokenness is a reality to be explored and gift softening the human heart and creating the possibility of empathy in us. people who learn to let their brokenness sojourn with the brokenness of others discover an uncommon freedom.

I wonder if the "brew" requires a "container" that looks, and works nothing like a container?

As I explore the shape of my spiritual unsettling I'm brought back to the understanding that the locus of our life is we're all "in Christ." If we know him as  Reality there is a fathomless union of great mystery we share with one another even if we don't apprehend it from one day to the next. Our union is spiritual and organic; eternal and now; seen and unseen. Christ has knitted us together as brethren, including those who came before and will come after until the new heaven and the new earth are joined in eternal liberation.

This "mystical" but real-time union has the power to make porous the "containers" we're so used to, and open us to our common filial heritage and identity, I think. Our discreet spiritual communities are part of a relational tapestry which reaches into eternity, but ties us here to brethren all over the earth, one Body in many countries, intertwined  and "led by (his) cords of kindness and bands of love." (Hos. 11:4)

I bet for most of us if we really thought about it, the notion we're tied in union with Christ, and in family together has more the character of a spiritual platitude than a lived out reality. Our divisions are legion - everything from theology to spiritual practice to politics. Such differences have served for centuries to "contain" our individual spiritual and church identities, for all intents and purposes working to sequester us behind walls of our own crafting. Sometimes in the history of the Body of Christ we've even killed over spiritual and theological convictions of purity and practice. Our containers fostered hatred with heads held high.

I realize there've been substantial issues to clarify and resolve in the history of the Church, but in those resolutions we suffered collateral damage in the sundering of the Body into Roman Catholics, Orthodox, Copts, Methodists, Episcopalians and Anglicans, Presbyterians, Baptists, Pentecostals, Charismatics, Church of Christ, Church of God, non-denominationals, Seventh Day Adventists, Christian Scientists, Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, Quakers,  Calvary Chapellians, the House Church movement, missional Jesus-followers, and on and on. Even with some denominations there is further splintering over sectarian jots and tittles, all held with great fervor and a keen sense of righteousness. Notice I included "churches" many would consider cultish, and perhaps they are. But all of them see they are living the proper and true Christian life. Many might even extend the same distinction to most of the others on the list, but how much reaching across the table goes on, I don't know. I know some does.

The point I want to make clear in this post is life in union with the Holy Spirit is the "brew" I keep referring to. The Holy Spirit needs no "container." Jesus has made us justified to God through our faith and we have peace with him. (Ro. 5:1) Through grace and by faith, we are at peace with God, and he sees us as dearly loved children called to live a life of love. (Eph. 5:1) Such a life of love not only must extend into our communities with folks who do not follow him, but we must begin to love our brethren who attend the church up the street, down the road, or across town. I know there are differences  we have to recognize and more than likely will still disagree over (Oh, that church [smirk]), but if we shelter in our own faith community, we miss the opportunity to create common ground, and learn how to have differences, even substantial ones, while rallying around what we all hold dear or feel convicted about. It's not been tried much as far as I've experienced in my 40 years.

I'm also talking about more than being ecumenical. I'm talking about being brethren, unified passionately in a suffering world where we need to take the astounding resources God has given the Church on earth, pool them as the Spirit summons and directs (which he will more than we realize if we let go a little) and get on with feeding plus equipping the poor, drying the tears of the rejected, rescuing and enfranchising the oppressed, protecting the tyrannized while proclaiming the year of the Lord's favor to all who will listen. I don't believe God created the church to divide and stay in our containers until Kingdom come. They can't sufficiently contain the "brew" (no more than a 8 oz. glass can hold a 16oz. bottle of stout in one pour) of a Holy Spirit who will fulfill the redemptive Kingdom mission through the Church everywhere, including some churches you and I might be betting against that such a thing would ever happen.

Here's my question: what if we decided to ask God to forgive us for all the ways we've been willing to settle for the acceptable containers of our own churches. What if we repented and came out from behind the walls to reach across the table and forgive one another for choosing separation because of "irreconcilable differences." What if we dedicated ourselves to pooling resources: people, money, creativity, ideas, spiritual and natural gifts, time, buildings, etc. What if mature, courageous gracious, and irenic leaders from every flavor church in the neighborhood got together to humbly listen to God for a period, and then reach across the table to pursue what God has summoned them to. What if we learned to hear why our brother or sister took a position which seemed so irrefutably wrong? What if we listened for the heart animating the choice and chose to build a Kingdom relationship anyway?  What if we let God sort it out and got on with fiercely reflecting Jesus to the world on our watch?

I know it's hard to "fellowship" with folks we feel are so egregiously in error, but is anyone defined solely by one set of ideas if you scratch below the surface? I know we can be wildly stubborn even contentious when we're right (on both sides of the ecclesial table, by the way), but there are epochs in the history of Man (yeah, I know I used the masculine pronoun for both male and female, so sue me) when a deeper, maturer and more grace-soaked wisdom and love is required. I believe we are in or heading into such times. Even with theological and social and political differences we can serve Christ as he pursues the least of his brethren and the most stubborn of his errant people. Sometimes miracles occur when we just say the meagerist of yes's to him; "I'll go if you'll make me able."

We know full well what it's like to walk apart. We've had centuries of that. What if we found out what it was like to walk together with those on the other side of the table who are willing to walk with us?

We're going to need to do that, mark my words...best start now.

If you didn't notice by now, the "container" I'm referring to is not frangible, but fluid and unseen. The Holy Spirit is like the wind, it: "blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going." He can't be pinned to the mat, kept in a box in the drawer, or contained in any one church or denomination. He blows through walls we erect. He goes where we'd rather look away. He's a friend of sinners, including those who offend or trouble our delicate spiritual sensibilities, including other Christians.

When we unite to be guided by the Spirit our "containers" become porous and permeable. We begin to look human and inviting. The broken and bent over aren't afraid of us or ashamed because of their failures and faults. They can glimpse Christ, many for the first time because our containers don't keep them out, and our containers don't block our view of others engaged in following the same Spirit, but not exactly as us, the true believers. I suspect the Spirit is calling us all to follow him together rather than maintain our own spiritual territories, pedigrees and positions on the issues of the day. We might even trust each other a tad. Can you imagine? I'm just beginning to.

5 Years In: Helping People Discover and Follow The God Who Is Far More Than They Imagine.

This morning we had our monthly LifeLine Sunday where dedicate the bulk of our time to exchanging thoughts and questions about the sermon series we've been working through. In the course of the conversation, I got to thinking about how much we've changed since Tricia and I moved here 5 years in July. As I've said before, it's one thing to sit at the CFR or Jim's house in Simsbury and conceive of who'll we'll be and how we'll go about being missional followers of Christ in Northampton, and another thing to actually live the flesh and blood adventure every day.

So, one of the questions Jim asked was how we've overcome the trappings of cultural (read non or extra-biblical) Christianity in our lives, especially those which separate us from people who aren't Christian because our church culture is so foreign, even off-putting, to them. I assure you this was not a church-bashing time, just a chance to hear how we might be evolving.

When I heard the question, I realized so much of the way I now live my Christian identity has changed:

1. To start, I can no longer separate the missional life from my spiritual life. I've learned so much about how we're supposed to live with people who do not hold or are downright antagonistic to our beliefs. Being missional is being biblically Christian, and I mean more than going on a mission trip, being evangelistic sometimes, or occasionally inviting someone to church. It's a mindset and worldview lived 24/7. It means surrendering the rights to our lives and following Christ into the communities he's placed us to reflect him to others that they might discover and follow him, if he summons them. My spirituality now includes missionality. They are intertwined.

2. At first, we all thought we needed to have a really creative Sunday service that people would come to because it was different from "normal" church. Of course, we assumed non-Christians would be open to going to something like that.Um ... WRONG! Talk about naivete (and I'd read some stuff that made the case it works - well, not in Northampton). We now see church gatherings are for Christians steeped in the language, traditions, assumptions and culture of church.They reflect commonly-held theological worldviews and spiritual practices. We can't imagine how bewildered people might be in stuff we could participate with in our sleep (and sometimes do). So the idea that our worship would be a "front door" approach to building relationships with non-Christians was just wrong. I know there is a time when inviting someone to church for the first time is appropriate. But in that case, a relationship of trust has been built, and things can be explained without embarrassing the person.

3. Next, we knew we had a responsibility to help the poor and homeless. So we served at the Interfaith Shelter (still do), did FEAST two Easter's ago, gave away Christmas gift bags to folks on the street, gave them food, clothes, hats, blankets, money and rides (occasionally). All of that was good and needed. Most of it was built on what's termed transactional relationships, i.e., I give them something they need and that's it. We had a beneficial impact, but no real relationship was built,. In fact, everyone knows the street dance; it's almost a culture here. None of it to my knowledge has been really helping them discover the God who is far more than they imagine. Such transaction become very frustrating for m after awhile because there appears no poverty transformation in transactional relationships. It's a step along the way perhaps, but not freedom in Christ which is what we offer.

4. For a long time now, I've known that if I'm going to be a real Christian I have to be willing to go into the mess of others' live as well as my own. For years, my experience of emotional healing, and my work as a counselor, retreat leader, and spiritual director has taken me way beyond where I thought I'd be able to go. I've seen human suffering far into tragedy and back. I know for a fact the wages of sin is death of all kinds. And I'm intimately familiar with my mess, including sin. Truth is, the missional life is intertwining my broken humanity with the broken humanity of others.We have that very much in common, no matter our beliefs or life history. My challenge has been Northampton is a different world for entering into the mess of many folks here who understand reality in ways I find foreign and vice-versa. Healing necessitates we both need to drop our guards and listen at the level of the heart. God is a healer; first at the deepest level of being, then in all other matters of life. I know that full well. What I don't know enough is how to enter into the mess of people who don't trust my intentions. I'm a work in progress there.

5. I recognize these days I have to be more discerning about whether, or how God is already working in someone, more sensitive to the evidence of a heart being influenced by the Spirit of God. I've been inviting him to teach me, to take me deep into spiritual noticing. I want wisdom which helps me recognize reality and respond with grace. It's not so easy for a guy with ADD, I'll tell you ... but not impossible. My longing is before I leave the planet I'd have found the manifest freedom to respond quickly with gentle alacrity to someone God is enticing to discover him, and be of use to them both. Wouldn't that be something.

6. Here's a tricky one, at least, it's felt that way to me since I came to the Paradise City. Soon after arriving, I had a pastor in town tell me imagine/Northampton would be defined by one question: how we'd handle gay marriage. How we answered that determined whether we'd alienate an entire group of people in this city or not. Right there he set a dividing line. It's never left my consciousness. These days, however, I feel the nudging to reach across the table and build relationships with Christians who share a different theological stance than me about many things. Some of what divides us are genuinely, and deeply held core convictions. Regardless, the Holy Spirit is hinting we need to learn to live with that and get on with the Kingdom miracle. To be honest, it scares me a little in that Christians can and do easily divide over spiritual differences. I suspect we throw the baby out with the bathwater when we do so. I don't know many minds will be changed, but I'm convinced we need to band together where we see a greater good, and pursue Christ as he continues to redeem people. I don't know if it's possible in some instances, but I bet not all, and I'm willing to try.

7. Perhaps the biggest way I've changed has to do with realizing how narrow I've been regarding what it means to be a Christian in this culture around us. I know in the depths of my being my identity and sense of self has been altered inextricably. To walk away from Christ would be to walk away from REALITY, in other words, madness. I am Christian at every level of existence. So, what I bring to everyone is that view of life. To not do so, would be to bifurcate my being, a spiritual schizophrenia so to speak. At the same time, a persisting fear of mine has been that if I relax and just be a person with others, I'd gradually morph into an agreeably nice guy who keeps his "light under a bushel" to fit in or get along, and not make anyone uncomfortable with my "rigid" Christianity stuff.

The thing is, I remember when I was a full-time jazz musician in Connecticut, I played all sorts of gigs with  people who would mostly refer to themselves as non-religious, or as some poetically put it, "I'm not into that sh__." Of course, they'd apologize profusely, I guess thinking I might faint right on the spot. I hung out and got along. I was asked a few times to explain my beliefs and one young bass player came to Christ. My point is there was a time when most of my early Christian life was spent with non-believers. I was myself and so were they. We agreed to disagree or just left spiritual things hanging to get on with what we were pursuing together. I didn't compromise and betray what I said I believed, but I wasn't heavy-handed either.

I can do this because I did it. Well, there is the little matter of being an introvert, but that's for another time.

I don't want the narrowing that happened because I spent 20 years at a retreat center working almost exclusively with Christians to keep me from building relationships with whomever. I want to engage others with me, and let them engage me with them. All I have to give is me. I realize too, some of us will click and perhaps have the chance to do life-changing Kingdom work together because we all care for the hurting, the dispossessed, the defeated, and the buckled-over people around us.

Therefore, helping people discover and follow the God who is far more than they imagine feels simpler in one sense. Because God draws people to himself, I just need to be myself and see what transpires with others as I have a chance to get to know them. No expectations, just paying attention, and being at the ready to share the magnificent hope dwelling in me.

So we're not so much about a model anymore, and more about just being people who realize other people matter to God, and we have a chance to show that by being ourselves, and trying to enflesh the reality of God's forgiveness and love to them genuinely. If we can humbly live the truth in all its multifaceted beauty to show forth wonder and freedom, others will be able to discover and follow him.

I wonder what the next 5 years will bring if we continue on here?

A Single Day's Divine "Coincidences" Might Sometimes Point the Way.

Over the years Tricia and I have prayerwalked in Northampton as I've written about. It gives us the feel of grabbing hold of and connecting God's Kingdom values with the spiritual landscape of this unique, small city. I experience his Presence when I pray this way.

 Yesterday, I ran across a video of Tempe church planter Jay Moore. It's entitled Prayer Walking for Ordinary Christians Living Missional Lives: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MissionalMeditations/~3/9bdJm2Hid_I/prayer-walking-for-ordinary-christians.html. Naturally, I was interested in what he had to say. In it he addressed the key reality of spiritual warfare especially in the context of entering into enemy territory and asking him to reveal demonic presences and tear down strongholds which hold people captive.

Smack dab in the middle of watching the video I heard someone coming up the stairs. I put it on pause, got up and greeted Hilary (not her real name). She was very forthright and shook my hand with a grip stronger than many mens' I've shaken. Hillary is an artist. She's also had a tough life. She does pencil sketches, and wanted to invite me to a show she was a part of in Northampton next week in the hopes she could have one at our gallery. She admitted she was really excited by the drawings she'd done, especially those of the Hindu gods (when she said it my mind actually flashed to the imagine Art Gallery filled with portraits of Hindu deities...what?). Then she exclaimed, "They really saved my life!!!" Her voice was filled with passion and sincerity. She seemed nervous; our interaction lasted on a few minutes.

I told her I would go see her work and I will. But after, I wondered what was the chance that when I was looking at a video on prayerwalking and spiritual warfare that a woman would come into our gallery and praise the Hindu gods in her life? A divine "coincidence?" God pointing and saying: "See where I'm taking you?" I had one of those God moment feelings we all get from time to time. Something's up.

Then, it happened again last night.

I was at my Friday night post hosting the gallery when four folks came in, parents in their 60's with their daughter-in-law and son. The parents were visiting from Cleveland. They began to tour the gallery when mom knocked on my office door. She praised the gallery, mentioned it had this amazingly peaceful vibe (it does and I know why) and told me she was a therapist. She mentioned she was Jewish when I told her of the TWiNE exhibit we'll host in May. Some the weavers are Jewish, and one in particular, has a tapestry memorializing the Holocaust. Then, she asked me if I knew where there was a store where she could purchase statues of gods for a friend - there is. I asked if she meant "like Hindu gods," and she said "yes!" She also was aware we are a church with a gallery. I'd mentioned it to her when she asked why we were here. She thought it was cool. Her spirituality was characterized as a belief in the universe, God or "whatever" as she put it. We fit there somewhere.

For the second time in the day I was talking someone relating closely to other gods. They came to me because of the gallery. Again, I wondered what was the chance I'd have a conversation about other gods on the same day? Both women talked as though they had tapped into divine reality. It made them happy. I thought of deceit and strongholds destroying lives. You might think that a bit strong. I don't and I have no malice toward the people; I don't have hatred for the false gods, however. I see their handiwork.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the office when two women came into the gallery. I did not hear them actually walk through. They were very quiet. The music may have covered their presence. They knocked on my open office door to inquire about the gallery. They loved the space. I mentioned it was an expression of imagine/Northampton, a church. She responded, "I know, but what kind?" I told her we were Christians, followers of Christ, but not affiliated with any denomination. The imagine Art Gallery was our effort to connect with the arts community in Northampton. They thanked me again and left. Not sure what they were thinking.

While the third conversation didn't lead to a discussion of other gods, it was clear the Holy Spirit was inviting me to pray in a very specific way. Northampton has a plethora of spiritualities all welcome, while Christianity is tolerated best if it behaves. While they might seem benign on the surface they are demonic strongholds all dressed up, likely guided by deceiving angels of light. Some might think my view judgmental, but the Scriptures don't. The Kingdom of God in the Old and New Testaments presents YHWH and His Son, Jesus Christ, as warriors overcoming the demonic forces of great darkness and death by proclaiming the truth, setting the captives free, giving sight to the blind, battling injustice and oppression, healing the sick, and giving dignity to the wretched and despised of the earth; the voiceless, unwanted, marginalized and weak.

My day began with a video about how to pray for others that the Kingdom might come in a particular place, and ended with folks who do not know Christ, crossing our threshold and revealing opportunity.  

Therefore, my conclusion from yesterday is fourfold:

1. I need to pray with a more laser-beam sagacity about what God is revealing and confronting in this place with his tearing down and healing love. Divine love sears evil and consumes idols as if they're kindling. Discernment is paramount; without it we're nice, well-meaning people chasing our tails.

2. I mustn't fall into a sleepwalk with the imagine/Northampton routine I live. Church culture can easily become an end in and of itself, including our missional church culture. Efforts such the gallery, and the Open Table, the imagine Community Garden are in the right direction. There is more though...much more.

3. The spiritual people we meet here - there are many - are leery of us when they suspect we'll promote Christianity as the way, the truth, and the life if they get near us. And we must, but through the door of unbinding grace and love, the kind that demolishes fear because we live the courage of our liberty to love beyond first perceptions.

4. God must grant me the grace to struggle for a true manifestation of the Kingdom of the Almighty that will  break though illusion, evil and pretense in this historic place of awakening and quickening of the Spirit. Without it, I'll remain merely a clattering cymbal. Not good.