United and Uniting

I've spent some of these writings in mostly transparent reflection about my place as a Kansas Mennonite both in the Pacific Northwest and the United Church of Christ.  The reflections haven't always been rosy, and no doubt the dissonance between these places and identities continues loud and clear.  But this weekend I occupied the perspective of the other side, as a youth minister in the Seattle area United Church of Christ.

I took four of my youth to our annual Senior High Mid-Winter Retreat at one of our conference's camps: Pilgrim Firs.  The location, activities, and friendships were important, but here I want to reflect on something else - something less tangible.  Our theme for the weekend was "Be a Hero," and the focus was on the gifts we all have and how we offer those gifts to the world.

Discipleship, faith identity, faithfulness to God, peace and social justice, even spirituality were grace notes to this theme.  They were not the center, not in the way the are for Mennonite faith formation.  Instead, this was a place of utter acceptance regardless of belief or unbelief, regardless of talent or lack thereof, regardless of name, history, race, orientation.  There is no orthodoxy and no orthopraxis, no rightness or belief or practice.  The "rules" if we can call them that are about unwavering tolerance and uncompromising respect for one another.  From time to time, the youth make small comments that capture this character: I love going to a church where when someone says throw me a Bible, the Bible actually flies across the room.  I love going to a camp where the kids who are dating might be two teenage boys, not always a boy and a girl.   

I have rarely if ever been so generously welcomed by a community and a place.  I have never seen youth who are so accepting of one another.  This is one picture of God's kingdom breaking into reality, one manifestation radical hospitality.  This is one way to do church that challenges most others.  There is no center and there are no boundaries of exclusion.  Really and truly, all one needs to do is simply come.   

The United Church of Christ is an approximately fifty year old denomination, created in the joining of several groups of churches.  As a diverse collection with mostly congregational polity, part of its covenantal promise is to be "united and uniting."  Inherent here is one transcendent expression of welcome.  I feel like a small microcosm for that sentiment - united and uniting the Mennonite and the UCC, united and uniting the Midwest and the Pacific Northwest, united and uniting in one body and in the work (and play) of this one life.

Who Is the King?

Epiphany was yesterday.  If you're interested in celebrating one day late, feel free to check out my sermon from last Sunday here.

The Contrasts of Place

Today is a day of contrasts. 

This morning from 9-12 was my second shift of what promises to become a regular Thursday morning commitment: volunteering at God's Little Acre (GLA).  GLA is a house owned by Seattle Mennonite that the church converted into a drop-in center.  A year and a half ago when I was the pastoral intern there, the community ministers had just gotten the new building permit approved and God's Little Acre was up and running for the first time.  Now, eighteen months later, it is open at least five days a week for showers, laundry, food, hanging out, and Stop, Drop, and Roll, and it is staffed by a diverse team of volunteers.  It smells like bleach, coffee (Folgers, or whatever's cheap), and stale cigarette smoke, and one of the rooms is stocked from floor to ceiling with food and clothes.  I could rave about Seattle Mennonite's commitment to the homeless, about how they have responded to the need in their neighborhood, about how they have answered the call of God/justice/hope in their midst, but you can actually read about that here. 

What I will say is that this morning keeps me grounded.  First, it cuts back on the mindless television, Facebooking, etc. that threatens to consume my days off.  It gives me, instead, something purposeful to do: at GLA I am a pastoral presence, a companion, a listener, a provider of the morning paper, a server and cleaner, stable person, a de-escalator of conflict.  It also reminds me to look for and to see the people who slip through the cracks of society, the people who rarely make it down to Richmond Beach Congregational.  It reminds me of the poor and how we must constantly be striving for justice and constantly finding old and new ways to tell the truth.  I also am touched by the people I am with there.  Some of the GLA folks are incredibly honest and authentic - not inhibited by the trappings of class and wealth that choke the rest of us.  Others have an ornery streak - not all that different from the teens I work with, testing boundaries, manipulating with charm or insolence.  Here is humanity, stripped down past internet connections and ipods.

Today, when I left God's Little Acre, I headed for University Village.  U-Village is an upscale shopping and dining center not far from the University of Washington.  It features stores like Crate and Barrel, Tiffany & Co., Apple, and others that I've never heard of because where I come from, JC Penney is good enough.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Here I met a wonderful group of UCC youth leaders to talk about the upcoming senior high mid-winter retreat.  We met at Starbucks.  They don't serve Folgers there.  There were people walking around in their brand name clothes with those skinny jeans that seem real popular these days.  I also saw many shopping bags, lot's of made up women, and high-class strollers.  Don't get me wrong - the meeting was great and the people I met are awesome.  The atmosphere, though was the wrong place for me after my morning.

I could try to bumble out some more of the major contrasts between my morning place and my afternoon place, but I fear I'd fall further into stereotypes.  Instead, I'll leave you with this thought:

The places we occupy are infused with morality.  The market that works to influence our decisions about where we go often obscures economic assumptions hidden within itself.  We consumers experience those assumptions as reality, as we are not equipped with the proper leverage to question those assumptions.  As a result, we experience the places we occupy as morally and ethically neutral despite the way that each place carries definitive markers of class.  Perhaps, as one great minister said to me several years ago, the first thing we need to do is to pay attention.  

For Your Added Reading Pleasure....

And Christian Edification,

I present to you Sarah's World.

This, my other blog is mostly professional, though I continue to sincerely doubt that there are any clear demarcations between the personal and professional in parish ministry.  However, in my churchy space, I try to channel my sometimes ranting impulses into constructive and ecclesiastically relevant theological reflection on This Christian Life. 

I'm not sure that anyone from Richmond Beach Congregational actually reads it, but I figure there might be a few family members or friends out there who are interested.  And if you're really interested, you can explore the web site to both see the texts of my occasional RBCC sermons and to actually hear me deliver the Good News. 

Feedback is welcome. 

The Crafty Bug Strikes Again

After Thanksmas vacation in Kansas, during which I frolicked through the country with reckless abandon, I am back to the land of the gray and dark (though to be fair, it has been sunny lately).  I have returned newly inspired in the crafty segment of my life.  This tends to happen when I see the beautiful things my Grandmas, Grandpas and parents have made through the years: wall hangings, dolls, various wood pieces, quilts, clothes.  So here I am in my improvised sewing room, which is actually my kitchen overtaken by fabric and various sewing gear. I'm doing my best to embrace the clutter. 

Today I've returned to a project that fizzled a month or so ago: a button down, collared shirt.  Now despite my many 4-H sewing projects back in the grade school days, I have never attempted something so difficult.  For instance, before I busted open the pattern, I didn't even know what a placket was.  Actually, though I've sewed one, I'm still not quite sure what a placket is.  This is not your average 4-H pillow for beginning sewers, that's for sure.  I decided long ago that this probably wouldn't be a "wearable" article, at least not for public excursions.  That important decision has freed me to be a learner and not a perfectionist.  Whew.  In addition to the placket, I sewed darts for the first time, and a collar, and cuffs (though these were a near disaster).  Note the perky form of that collar (you can't quite see the questionable stitching). 

Yes, it's been a good day of sewing overall.  Perhaps next time I tackle a shirt, I can aim for wearability.  In fact, I may have been able to pull off casual wearability in this little sucker if it weren't for one major mistake that I currently have neither the energy nor the desire to fix: I sewed one of the arms on inside out.

 

How does this happen? you might be wondering.  Well, somehow between trying to fanagle my cuffs into the right position and pulling up the bobbin threads on the ease stitching, I overlooked another minor detail.  Next time, I'll be prepared.  This time, I think it may make a perfectly functional paint shirt, featuring long enough arms and a cheap but still quite pretty blue fabric.  Now unless I can get some expert help from mom or some Seattle Mennonite someone, I think my next few projects will be back in the quilting world.