Thanks.......

I wanted to thank everyone who came to hear me read at the Carnegie Center's "Feast of Fiction" competition last night. It was so great to see so many friends in attendance and the director Jan Isenhour thanked us for our large contingent of people. Bev Olert's short story "Unbroken Chain," which talks about Mountaintop Removal, among many other things, was truly tremendous and if you didn't hear it I would encourage you to go to the Carnegie Center's site and look it up under the "For Writers" tab. Again, thanks for your support and encouragement. Here is the story that I read in the "Flash Fiction" category, entitled "Savannah Sacred":

“Now Mr. Taylor,” said Roland Anthony with cool conviction, “I do believe you’ll understand me when I say that your friend on the front porch must go. I appreciate your heart in the matter, son, but I believe you’ll agree that there are more proper establishments for such men.”
The sweet southern drawl of the imperious man’s voice almost made the request seem hospitable. But there was no mistaking the intent. David Taylor had secretly lived in fear of this moment for the past two months like an anxious kid who’d been slowly siphoning off the ole’ man’s liquor.
Roland Anthony made his point abundantly clear, just as clear as he had been making his arguments to the courts of Savannah and the rest of Georgia for thirty five years.
David Wayne Taylor IV, fresh out of Yale Law, a husband with a newborn, being paid handsomely to study for the bar, and trying to carry the storied family name, was sobered by Roland Anthony’s unspoken reminder of his proud southern heritage. Charity certainly had its place for a southern gentleman, but that place was not the front porch of the magnificent Victorian housing the acclaimed law office of Anthony, Sloan, & Hicks.
David had been at the firm for a mere two and a half months. Eager to impress, he was always first at the office. It was during one of these early mornings that he stumbled upon the “friend” to whom Roland Anthony had politely referred.
David knew him simply as “Hollywood,” a homeless African-American Vet in his late fifties. Their first encounter was abrupt, and the unsuspecting David was unsettled. But Hollywood had a mysterious presence, a lighthearted and relaxed command of the awkwardness of the situation that enthralled David and made him feel truly welcomed. Having lived his life in the long shadow of southern social propriety, David was both fascinated and undone by the unaffected grace and dignity of Hollywood. “How can he still feel so good about life?” David mused.
They began visiting for a few minutes each morning. They sat on the porch talking freely in the cool early morning breezes of late fall in Savannah. Soon they began getting coffee and it wasn’t long before David was the last one to the office. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. There was contentment to be found in life apart from career success and family pedigrees. It was the contentment of simply knowing and being known, and apart from his wife, David wondered if he’d ever really known it before he met Hollywood.
The trouble came the morning that Roland Anthony discovered the improbable pair meeting on the porch.
Hollywood knew the score.
The next morning he took the gut-wrenching words right out of David’s mouth.
“No worry Cap’n,” he said. “You gotcha’yer family to keep. Don worry about me. No sir, I been workin’ these streets a long time.”
Hollywood smiled brightly, hugged David, grabbed his pack, and walked off into the bright Savannah morning.
David kept a low profile over the next several weeks, nursing along the first true bout of depression that he’d ever known.
He resumed his early morning routine, and every morning he thought about Hollywood.
Late one night David was working alone at the office. Exhausted, he’d turned off the light to take a nap. He was awakened by a loud commotion coming from the porch. He heard a familiar voice say, “Hey, you,” followed by several gunshots.
David jumped to his feet, raced downstairs, and unlocked the front door.
Lying in a pull of blood on the front porch was Hollywood.
His breathing was shallow, but he smiled as a speechless David cradled him.
It was a cold windy night and he’d come back to the porch. He’d been awakened by a man trying to break into the house who he confronted.
“Well Cap’n,” said Hollywood, still smiling, “Tell de boss I finally paid de rent!”
David yelled for help as his friend breathed his last and slumped, lifeless, in David’s arms.
David sobbed uncontrollably as he held Hollywood’s limp body.
Several police cruisers soon arrived as David continued to hold his friend. He was quiet now, mysteriously content as the officers approached.
Only now had the truth become clear to David. He was also unwelcome on this porch. It was not the “proper establishment” for a man like him. But no one would ask him to leave this place. He alone had to make that decision.

Advent I: Awake

Wake up! Rub away the comfort of drowsy eyes and take a look around. We live in a world of injustice and pain... Can you see it? Can you hear it? It echos from the groaning of the earth consumed by greed, to the cry of the refugee torn from her country, to the silence of the man sitting cold and alone on the park bench downtown.

Advent calls us to become aware of the need for healing, for hope, and for help. Advent calls us to be awakened to the need for Messiah.

As the faithful waited for the advent of the Messiah many years ago, their longing was filled with the desperation of those on the margins. During this Advent, let's participate in that desperate expectancy by remembering and confronting the brokenness and struggle around and within us.... so awaking ourselves both to the need for and hope of God's life-renewal.

Some suggestions for action:

· Fast this week... skip lunch, or simply eat rice and beans for supper. Remember those for whom choosing what or whether to eat is not an option.

· Donate time and money saved by fasting to the Catholic Action Center or Lexington Rescue Mission

· Sit outside for an hour... on your porch, in the park, where ever. Experience the cold and remember those with whom you share this hour.

· Donate a pair of gloves and a winter hat to Kentucky Refugee Ministries as they welcome folks relocating to Lexington who are not used to the cold of winter.

· Read Scripture:

1. Mark 14: 32-42  -  your eyes are very heavy…keep awake!

2. Matthew 24:37-44  -  be awake and ready

3. Romans 13:8-14 – now is the moment for you to wake from sleep.

We Wait

We begin a serious of Advent reflections.  here is one from  Will Samson that was first posted last year.

Advent is here. The arrival of the Christ is upon us. We wait. And I'm really bad at waiting. If there was one negative description that would best be applied to me it would be "impatient". It's the story of my life. It defines a struggle I have dealt with from my earliest memory. I'm 41.
Yet Advent comes to us again, as it does every year. And, as always, we are reminded that we anticipate more. The first Advent of the Christ got us to this point. It brought us a living Jesus and gave us a life to imitate. The first Advent gave us the cross of Jesus to which we are called. It made resurrection a possibility, which, in turn, gives us hope for the next Advent.
And so, now, again, we wait. We hover in liminal space, always conscious that we are on the brink of something greater. We celebrate the first coming of Jesus. But I admit my inability to grasp the second.
At various points in my life I thought I had that question answered. But I'm coming to realize that it is the waiting, and the mystery, to which I have been called. Where I once thought the second Advent of the Christ could be reduced to a formula, I now find myself living in accord with those who wandered and waited for the first coming. Like the people of God before that amazing night in Bethlehem, I have no choice but to seek to be faithful to the call of God, and to live in expectancy.

"Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation."

as i read the scriptures...

As I read the scriptures this week I have caught myself savoring the Colossians passage. I feel like Paul is bringing me behind the curtain with this stuff about Jesus. How does Jesus hold all these things together? How does his blood make peace? Paul doesn’t say how. He doesn’t begin to answer my why questions. But he weaves this heady tapestry, and I long to worship this Jesus in the ether before time began.

I also feel myself read quickly through the account of Jesus on the cross, mocked even by another man on another cross. How low is that? My eyes scan quickly so that I miss the dialogue and the heat and the blood and the flies and the suffocation and those nails and the joints and all the bones intact—I don’t want to be bothered with all of that. I don’t even want to hear him welcome some murderer into paradise.

I’d rather sing that Christ hymn in Colossians. But a wise man has taught me that it is not sufficient to worship this first-born Son; we are called to follow this homeless Palestinian (the same person) through the cross somehow. Lord, let me read the hard parts closely.

(from ryan)

A thanksgiving.....

Recently I marked the 8 year anniversary of my father's death. Earlier this summer was the 12 year anniversary of my mother's death. It is hard to believe that it has been so long. I think about them often as I watch Miranda grow and try to imagine what it would be like to share her with them. Honestly, this has been the hardest part of coming to grips with their deaths. In a way it is kind of like the final frontier of grief, wanting so desperately to proudly introduce them to my daughter but knowing that that will never happen, at least not in this life. Anyhow, I can't complain about my life, am deeply thankful for it, and share these things only because it provides the proper context for something that I want to celebrate. I actually shared this last night at our fellowship meeting and felt like I needed to likewise share it in this broader format. Last night we were asked to give thanks for people in our lives who (among other things) have given us reason to be thankful and appreciative about the gift of life even though that gift can sometimes feel more like an affliction. During the meeting I shared that I was deeply thankful for the way in which Paul Espy (Sherry's father, who comes to visit periodically) has greeted me during his last two visits. Last night, before the meeting, Paul again came up to me and said, with a hug, "Hello son, how are you doing?" It was a very simple question, easily uttered, but for someone like me there are few things that could have a more profound and far-reaching impact. I am so thankful to be a part of this broken community where we imperfectly practice our faith as family, try to help care for one another's children, and share our homes with each other and other's in sometimes questionable and even dangerous ways. This way of life has begun to have a small but growing impact far beyond our geographical borders and anything that we could ever quantify or claim-praise God! And it is because of this slow but incessant Spirit inspired influence and exchange of life that I can know someone like Dr. Espy, and in knowing realize that God hears the prayers that I cannot utter and responds in ways that I can never anticipate.

"Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home (John 19:25-27).

reflection on knowledge and truth

this comes from the book i love so much - the beautiful life by simon parke - it is a long, slow, dense read.  in this chapter, he argues that truth can never be acquired but is experienced as we are transformed from the inside, changing our attitudes and shedding our opinions...

"anyone can pass on knowledge

no one, however, can pass on understanding.

for unlike knowledge, understanding is not just a sequence of words.

understanding must come from our own work and experience.

it is the gradual disentanglement of twisted textures within us.

understanding is the slow creation of space for all things.

the house inside was a peeling wreck of dirt and squalor, but the householder was offered some beautiful gold curtains, made of the finest silk, and took them.  he put them up in the front room for all to see.  they were most striking curtains - and the word on the street, as everyone saw them in the big window, was that everything else inside had changed as well.  the householder had changed everything!

this was not so, however.  nothing else had changed.  the house was still damp, still dirty and still overrun with vermin.  the householder had not lifted a finger to sort things out and, with his marvellous new curtains, there seemed even less need than before to do so.  the gold curtains on public show were surely change enough.

but because the house didn't change, the curtains did.  the house did not get better, so the curtains got worse.  the damp wrinkled and rotted the fabric, the dust settled layer by layer, dimming the shine, whilst the vermin treated it as a brand-new toy, running up and down, snagging thread with their claws.  it was not long before the once-glorious curtains had been reduced to the level of the rest of the house.  and in time, the householder came to resent the gold curtains.  he had had such high hopes of them, but really they had made very little difference at all."

(sherry)

halloween pics

some pics from halloween...thanks to the samson's for wonderful chili and hospitality.  some other pics from our little neighborhood get together.  any other community pics/stories?

immigration issue in lexington

a few of us attended a 'rally' downtown this afternoon.  along with some others we wanted to show our support for fostering a spirit of welcome in our city.  it was asher's first protest.  way to stick it to the man, asher.  see the little news blurb here.

clinton has compiled a set of reflections and news items for us to look over in anticipation of the lexington fellowship gathering.  he put it well in the community list serve email:

Next Sunday the Lexington fellowship will be following up on the conversation we started last week regarding the upcoming Immigration Commission report for the city.  I've attached some of the text from the Herald Leader and News Radio 630.

As we reflect further on this, please come with a related news snippet / experience / dissertation, as well as a Scripture to frame our time together.

This is a complex issue, and we're not shooting for some definitive "resolution", but we would like to be more widely informed as a community, both by Scripture and the situation around us.

merton quote

[P]sychologists have had some pretty rough things to say about the immaturity and narcissism of love in our marketing society, in which it is reduced to a purely egotistical need that cries out for immediate satisfaction or manipulates others more or less cleverly in order to get what it wants. But the plain truth is this: love is not a matter of getting what you want. Quite the contrary. The insistence on always having what you want, on always being satisfied, on always being fulfilled, makes love impossible. To love you have to climb out of the cradle, where everything is "getting," and grow up to the maturity of giving, without concern for getting anything special in return. Love is not a deal, it is a sacrifice. It is not marketing, it is a form of worship.
In reality, love is a positive force, a transcendent spiritual power. It is, in fact, the deepest creative power in human nature. Rooted in the biological riches of our inheritance, love flowers spiritually as freedom and as a creature response to life in a perfect encounter with another person. It is a living appreciation of life as value and as gift. It responds to the full richness, the variety, the fecundity of living experience itself: it "knows" the inner mystery of life. It enjoys life as an inexhaustible fortune. Love estimates this fortune in a way that knowledge could never do. Love has its own wisdom, its own science, its own way of exploring the inner depths of life in the mystery of the loved person. Love knows, understands and meets the demands of life insofar as it responds with warmth, abandon and surrender.

Thomas Merton. "Love and Need" in Love and Living. Naomi Burton Stone and Brother Patrick Hart, editors. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1979: 30-31

Moving mountains to mine coal

if you're interested in the mess we are making in our mountains, see this link to a Marketplace (NPR) story.

"moving mountains to mine coal" Jeff Biggers

also, keep up to date with MTR issues here:

"ilovemountains.org"

women of great faith

last night, during our fellowship gathering, we had special guests with us.  a friend of communality's brought two women who are currently touring the u.s. sharing about their incredible ministries.  one woman is from thailand.  she helps care for and educate children of prostitutes and literally saves children from falling into that horrific trade.  a story of her ministry - garden of hope - was featured as a cover article for this christianity today article earlier this year.  the other woman is from burma.  she and a team of other women live on the border of burma and thailand and they save women who have been traded across the border as sex slaves.  they risk their lives every day for the sake of these forsaken women and sometimes they actually "buy back" their lives - the very work of the cross.  the stories they shared were devastating and glorious -  the testimonies of god's redemptive work in the darkest places.  while listening to them, we were moved and blessed and unfortunately, deeply ashamed because this sex trade is funded predominantly by westerners.

as we started our worship together, i read psalm 84.  in this psalm are these verses:

"even the sparrow has found a home

and the swallow a nest for herself,

where she may have her young -

a place near your alter, O lord almighty."

even the birds...

 

 

garden of hope

christianity today article

what really make us happy

i wish everyone had the time to read bill mckibben's new book, "deep economy."  geoff read it about a month ago and insisted that i read it next.  now i understand why.  in the beginning, it's quite depressing because it has to be as it describes what is about our current situation - economically and environmentally.  but then things begin to look up and it is a book full of hope about our capacity to live within limits, locally with a healthy and balanced economy and rhythm of life.  here's an reflection on revealing measures of happiness:

" In general, researchers report that money consistently buys happiness right up to about $10,000 per capita income, and after that point the correlation disappears.  That's a useful number to keep in the back of your head - it's like the freezing point of water, one of those random numbers that just happens to define a crucial phenomenon on our planet.  'As poor countries like India, Mexico, the Philippines, Brazil, and South Korea have experienced economic growth, there is some evidence that their average happiness has risen,' Richard Layard reports.  But past the $10,000 point, there's a complete scattering: when the Irish were making a third as much as Americans they were reporting higher levels of satisfaction, as were the Swedes, the Danes, the Dutch....A sampling of Forbes  magazine's 'richest American' has happiness scores identical with those of the Pennsylvania Amish.

On the list of important mistakes we've made as a species, this one seems pretty high up.  A single-minded focus on increasing wealth has driven the planet's ecological systems to the brink of failure, without making us happier.  How did we screw up?"

dogfight

I called 911 for the first time last night. Well, I dialed it twice, but hung up on the operator the first time. I was on my way to rent a movie and came up on a dog fight. Earlier, Ryan and I had seen two loose pit bulls as we were walking home from a lovely evening with good food and great friends. I, of course, was scared for my life, but my brave husband stayed calm. We made it home safely, all three of us. A bit later I left the house for the movie store. Towards the end of our street, two women stood yelling at what turns out to be the same two pit bulls attacking one of their, much smaller, dogs. I dial 911, stop the car, turn it around and drive it towards the dogs. What did I think I was going to do, run over them? I just wanted to startle them, I guess. That didn’t work. I honked. Blinked my lights. Then I decided to throw something their way. An empty nalgene bottle doesn’t work, FYI. But, a full gallon oil container is a bit of a distraction. They disperse. I freak out and jump back into the car which, by the way, has all of the windows down. But the pits want this little dog. So I open up my back seat to the victim. His owner is shaking and smoking in my backseat. She’s also holding on to a sweet, little puppy. The police finally show up to find the pit bulls circling my car. Scary. One of the pits becomes aggressive with the first policeman. This dog soon meets his end. After six loud rifle shots, the air is silent. Which is worse, watching two dogs tear up another helpless dog or hearing the shots that killed one of the pit bulls?

I didn’t end up going to the movie store. I went home and did dishes while re-living the gruesome scenes from the evening. Wanting to move to the suburbs where there are fewer pit bulls. Desiring a safe place where Asher can grow up and play. I want to be free from the fear that would keep me locked up in my house. So, this morning, I took a run with Laura and Asher. We passed by the red spot where a dog laid last night. I bought some doggy spray (called “Halt”, pretty awesome name) that might ward off any aggressive beasts that get near us when we walk from our house to downtown. I’m at peace. This is our street. Our neighborhood. Our town. God has placed my family here for a reason. I’m glad that I didn’t pass by and try to ignore that scene last night, if only to help a neighbor in need.

A picture from the past....

This past weekend's School for Conversion was a great opportunity to rehearse our history and think about the future. I think that it was a helpful exercise and it got me thinking about old friends and memories. I thought that this picture, found by Mary in a file last week, might be an intersting thing to post following this time of reflection. It is a picture of the original twelve-members of the High Street Communality group. I think that it was taken in the winter of 98 or early 99?

SFC Reflection

"But the only letter of recommendation we need is you yourselves! Your lives are a letter written in our hearts, and everyone can read it and recognize our good work among you. Clearly, you are a letter from Christ prepared by us. It is written not with pen and ink, but with the Spirit of the living God. It is carved not on stone, but on human hearts (2 Corinthians 3:2-3)"

One of the best feelings in life is to feel drained for all the right reasons. I'm guessing that this is how many of us feel after this weekend's school for conversion. It was a wonderful time with a wonderful group of people who opened their hearts to our community in an amazing way. I can honestly say that this event was one of the most encouraging things that I have experienced in a long time. I guess it is easy to be encouraged when something that you are a part of is in the temporary "spotlight." However, this was not the reason why I was so encouraged by this weekend. The reason why I was so heartened by our time together is because the more we shared about our foibles, our shortcomings, and the struggles that we have had (and have)together as a community, the more that it seemed like our guests were encouraged and inspired. Wow! Does this make any sense to the common mind! Well, it is beginning to make more sense to me and it is something that I think is an incredibly powerful liberating force for all of us who want to TRY to take on the tough questions in life knowing that there probably won't be any definitive answers, just the fragile hope that doing the right thing will inevitably lead us deeper into the beauty of life and closer to the ultimate artist who created it. Trying to live in solidarity with the tough questions and follow Jesus is tremendously difficult at times, and the hardest part is that one of the main things that is meant to sustain us in this journey (relationship with each other) is often times the cause of the greatest struggle and doubt! How can we get around this dilemma? Well, in my opinion one of the only definitive answers is that we can't get around it. We have to believe in relationships and continue to invest in them no matter what. The relationships that we build and the experience that we share together are, I think, the highest form of art. The greatest beauty that we can create is what we create in each other, in the way that we mold, shape, and color each others lives in a manner that leads us toward God's shalom (the epitome of beauty). I thought that this weekend was a great example of this kind of creative exchange and I was tremendously blessed by every aspect of it. So, thanks to all of the SFC participants who have shared their lives, hearts, and dreams with us this past weekend. I hope that we can continue to live the dreams together......to be one another's letter to the world about the goodness and love of God.