onehouse

Anonymous armies.

On working in a crisis center:

I also learned about altruism and what an important part it plays in our emotions. You don't reach much about that in newspapers; we're taught that our species is mainly warlike. But now I know there are these anonymous armies of the day and night under the surface of every American city, performing acts of heroism and mercy for their neighbors whom they will never meet. In many ways it's analogous to the monastic or cloistered life. Whenever I was doing that counseling I was aware that it was like being in a confessional: the telephone, with its perforations, into which people were pouring out their heart in the most intimate way. You're all alone in that room, and the stories are pushed against your ear; it just feeds into your soul. I felt it was a sacramental transaction.

Diane Ackerman
A Messenger of Wonder
Going on Faith: Writing As A Spiritual Quest
Edited by William Zinsser

Trigger points and sea water.

I have started spending a little time with a trigger point book that a friend (Hello friend...) lent to me over the weekend. I have a chronic pain condition and am pretty willing to try all sorts of suggestions from folks who have had success with nutritional and physical routines. It can get overwhelming if you try too many things at once but if you pick and choose, sometimes you will notice where there is or isn't a difference.

I always find referred pain interesting. The idea that noticeable origin of pain is not necessarily where the problem actually exists. When you use trigger points, you actually inflict pain on a certain spot to provide longer term relief to another area.

When dealing with relationship or community problems, we often go straight for what we think is the problem, rooting around for the truffle straight under our noses. We shout a great "Ah hah!" at ourselves or others when we think we have found THE source of the problem. In my thinking on the personal, I have noticed that when discussing certain things - politics, faith, lifestyle - people will often shoot back a "I am personally offended..." by someone else's personal opinion. The implied suggestion is that personally offending someone else is the worst thing that you can do. The often-miffed usually go into some long explanation about how wrong you are but the whole thing is supposed to be legitimized by personal offense. I don't take that very seriously anymore. The trigger point is that we think we OWN what is around us. This is our faith, our Bible, our Pope, our version of church, and our way of viewing the world. God himself is unable to defend against a wayward personal opinion and others are supposed to be very upset that you are personally offended. If you are offended, God himself is probably sulking in some corner too.

Some people call this love of their own opinion faithfulness.The ability to take things so personally and stick by them no matter what happens. But this is entrenchment and ownership and it is most often rooted in the fear of something new rather than the love of something old.  If you find yourself stuck on one point, it usually means you have some kind of pain, bias or downright blindness somewhere else.

In the stories of the Bible, God usually sends a big fish, a talking donkey, or just a plain old  prophet to people hiding behind their self-involvement and self-righteousness. This would be handy. It would do away with a lot of arguments if mid-discussion there was an interruption - "Uh, just a minute. There's someone at the door." and then a return,  pale and covered in sea water to say, "Sorry, yeah. Guess what...I'm a dork."

Listening Point

Our new group blog, Listening Point, is now up. Go ahead and read and/or/but/for/nor participate by sending us your posts.

Small expressions.

Someone once said to me (and a few others), "Be the group that tried." Here's a group that's trying something:

Mustard Seed House: Seattle

Digestion AND vomit.

I recently had a someone in their early twenties write me, feeling low about trying to grow some different ways and being confronted by people who are concerned but feel threatened by change. I remember going through this. It can wear you down. So I sent this response.

I would recommend the book, A Complicated Kindness. It's about a depressed Mennonite teenager living in a closed Mennonite small town.

Going back to your church probably won't work...for you or them. But if you feel the need to try, it is good to get that out of your system. I tried about a dozen times. The times varied anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of years where I was preaching and being asked to come on staff but I knew somewhere deep within me that things were not going to work out. So on my twelfth time, I knew that was it. Right here, I can boast, my skull is thicker than yours.

The manifestation of the church in much of Canada is for people in a developmental stage that MUST see things in certain black and whites, like going or NOT going, swearing or NOT swearing, worship by attending church or be wrong by not attending. Leaving this kind of thing can be like a grief cycle. And anger is part of that cycle. You can't live there but neither should you have to leave your anger too early. If you are a healthy person, you will know when it is time to stop being angry. And it is an important step to vent your frustration (somewhere safe) and not swallow it and get nice righteous heart attacks and ulcers. If the adults around you are whole and full of trust and not fear, your anger will not scare them. It might tire them but it shouldn't  scare them and they will wait. And sometimes we may need to stop talking in places we know that people won't understand. You have to find the small group of folks that will just take you for what you are when you are going through some big life changes.

So I say unto ye, have a good laugh, drink something fun and cold on a warm day, twirl in the sunshine, and breathe and after you have done that for a while - maybe a long while - you will know what to do. When you are looking at just one head of one pin, it becomes your whole world so you need a chance to look away and see that God is a big God and talking through all kinds of places so you can plug your ears to a few and not worry about missing anything. Think of Jonah. If you stop listening to people who think THEY are the way and they turn out to be right like they think they are, he'll send a HUGE WHALE which will eat you and then barf you up. What fun! All good stories should have digestion AND vomit. One of my favorite sayings by a contemplative author: "God does not play striptease." In other words, we can relax. God will be God.

I know it is hard but ALL of this makes us stronger adults, REAL adults or full human beings, not just some kind of fearful folks that get all offended and uptight at whatever says at us. To be honest, some of us really do think we are God after a while and can't let things go.

Cheers, I'd take you for a drink and a laugh if I was there. Oh, and all of this stuff is worth laughing about.

I asked, he answered.

Antony of Coming to the Quiet has always been very welcoming and kind to me and my faltering contemplative explorations. He has written a lovely post which first appeared in my inbox as an email. This is in response to me wishing I could ask friends that have become Catholic what they think about abuses by their leadership. I am glad for these conversations and Antony's gracious response which allow for honest confusion, open conversation and perhaps, continued questioning. I have been in many places where raging opinion has shut down any discussion.This kind of response is a rare gift.

I also respect that people may not want to process everything on their blog. As many regular visitors might have noticed, I have taken a break on posting about different practices. Sometimes it is better to sit with things for a while and not take them apart so much. But more on practice in the weeks to follow.

Living and legislating.

Loved this. Thanks to Coming to the Quiet:

A brother asked Abba Poemen, "Some brothers live with me; do you want me to be in charge of them?" The old man said to him, "No, just work first and foremost, and if they want to live like you, they will see to it themselves." The brother said to him, "But it is they themselves, Father, who want me to be in charge of them." The old man said to him, "No, be their example, not their legislator."

From The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

Sunday evening.

After a busy weekend with visitors and some house repairs, I opened all the windows in the house, hoped for a cool breeze and then lay on the couch listening to the yelling and hammering coming from the alley. I was very curious but too tired for conversation. It sounded like they  were building a house back there and not the elusive go cart. I waited for the noise to subside and then went to check out the progress.

Unfortunately, when I went to the back of the house someone in the go cart gang had spray painted a few drawings on the patch of asphalt. Especially interesting was the space person with - her? its? - two big circles meant to be breasts. Sighs all around as I went to find the boys. As soon as they saw me walking across the yard, they began to protest that it was a bigger boy from up the street who had done the damage. (Methinks they protested too much...). I spoke with their mothers and they called the parents of the "bigger boy" and we agreed that the boy would come to my door tomorrow and I would speak with him and we would clean it up.

I went out to the back garden this morning and someone had poured gas or paint thinner all over the offending art work, leaving a wet chemical blob that will probably fade over the day.

This wouldn't have happened with my mother. When I was 7 or 8, I took a small amount of change from her purse without permission. Both my mother and father sat me down and spoke quite seriously to me. I was made to apologize. I cried. I felt awful. I still remember and I never took something that didn't belong to me again. I wish we could have solved this as a group of neighbors and not as a puddle of chemicals. It would have been more uncomfortable and it would have take more time but I think the result would have been more satisfying in the long run. Hitting the delete button isn't always the best option.

Twenty questions with Ali and Omar.

Back to the house from the West Coast. I opened the garage door in order to get some groceries - the raspberries are out and require frozen yogurt - and heard some little voices and a couple "Oh-oh"'s as the door was going up.

Two little boys had a big square of plywood and pieces of skateboard, metal pipe, nails, and wood scattered all along the asphalt pad at the back of the garage.

Question 1: Do you have to get that car out?

Me: Yup.

Question 2: Both cars? (We're storing a car for a friend.)

Me. Nope. I'll help you move your stuff over so you can keep working on it in the space behind the other car.

Question 3: Okay (resigned). We're building a go cart. Do have any extra wheels we can use?

Me: I don't think so. But I'm doing some cleaning this weekend and I'll look.

Question 4: When? When are you doing the cleaning?

Me: Saturday I think. I'll put it over there against the fence where I said you could use any of the stuff...hey, look at all that wood.

Question 5: We broke apart that big thing (a wooden palette). You said we could. Don't you remember?

Me: Yes, I do. That's a lot of work you did.

Question 6: Yeah. Do you have any more stuff we could use?

Me: I'll look for you.

Question 7: When will you look? Because we're moving soon.

Me (Question 8): Are you brothers?

Question 9: Nope. Just close friends. I'm Ali. And I'm Omar. (poking heads inside garage) Are you using that cardboard in there?

Me: I'm afraid it has stuff in it. (Question 10) Do you need cardboard?

Question 11: (with heavy sighs) We just need ANY kind of stuff. His dad is an engineer and we want to put a motor on the back of this thing. Can we use those things (old rollerblades)?

Me: Oh those don't belong to me. My brother built a go cart when he was a kid. Out of metal with a motor in it and everything.

Question 12: (excited) Does he live with you?

Me: No, he's older now.

Question13: Did he leave the go cart with you?

Me: No, that was a long time ago.

Question 14: Did he sell it?

Me: I can't remember but it sure was cool.

Question 15 and 16: Is he an engineer? Can he come over?

Me: No, he lives too far away. (Note to self: Come back and hammer in the nails on this now dangerous broken palette.)

Question 17: That's too bad. We could use the help.

Me: (Question 18) Where are you moving to?

Question 19:  A long story about apartments and friends and families and then "Tuscany. Do you know where that is?"

Me: Yup. (A suburb in Calgary not the place in Italy.) Okay guys, I think you can work on that stuff on that part of the drive there and the car won't disturb you coming in and out. I hope you have fun.

Ali/Omar: Thanks! Put any more stuff you have out here.

Me: I will.
(Question 20 as I drive away: Why are kids the only neighbors that talk to other neighbors?)

Mosaics

The Henri Nouwen Society offers four principles of community:

1. Each person – no matter what religion, race, age, sexual orientation, handicap, woundedness, or creed – is the beloved of God. This universal vision of the human person offers grounding for a peaceful, lively, and creative relationship with all people.
   
2. Every person experiences fear, doubt, insecurity, and brokenness. When we acknowledge our vulnerabilities and discover in them new strengths, we find ourselves empowered to love and serve others. Community is where the integration of our strengths and weaknesses becomes a sign of hope to the world.
   
3. Authentic community springs from each member's willingness to spend time alone with God. When we recognize in our solitude that our belovedness is grounded in God, we are not dependent on others to guarantee our truth or our value as persons. Rather, we become free to give and receive love in response to need rather than in search of acceptance and affirmation. We learn how to dance creatively between solitude and community.
   
4. Community is where we help those who are poor or suffering not merely from a sense of social justice but because we have a deep sense of our interconnectedness with all people, creatures, and all of creation. And in helping, we too are nourished.

I also liked this quote:

The Mosaic That Shows Us the Face of God
A mosaic consists of thousands of little stones. Some are blue, some are green, some are yellow, some are gold. When we bring our faces close to the mosaic, we can admire the beauty of each stone. But as we step back from it, we can see that all these little stones reveal to us a beautiful picture, telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.

That is what our life in community is about. Each of us is like a little stone, but together we reveal the face of God to the world. Nobody can say: "I make God visible." But others who see us together can say: "They make God visible." Community is where humility and glory touch.