Take This Bread

I just finished the book Take This Bread by Sara Miles last night. It has refreshed in me the idea of conversion as a process and our following of Christ as a journey. I don't think I yet have the words to describe this book's impact, despite my disagreement with some of the author's theology, but it's going to stay with me and hopefully motivate Godward change in my life.

Here's a taste from page 97 to challenge you:

"Conversion isn't, after all, a moment: It's a process, and it keeps happening, with cycles of acceptace and resistance, epiphany and doubt. As I struggled with bread and wine and belief over the following year at St Gregory's, it stayed hard. I began to understand why so many people chose to be 'born again' and follow strict rules that would tell them what to do, once and for all. It was tempting to rely on a formula--'accepting Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior,' for example--that became itself a form of idolatry and kept you from experiencing God in your flesh, in the complicated flesh of others. It was tempting to proclain yourself 'saved' and go back to sleep.

The faith I was finding was jagged and more difficult. It wasn't about abstract theological debates: Does God exist? Are sin and salvation predestined? Or even about political/ideological ones: Is capital punishment a sin? Is there a scriptural foundation for accepting homosexuality?

It was about action. Taste and see, the Bible said, and I did. I was tasting a connection between communion and food--between my burgeoning religion and my real life. My first, questioning year at church ended with a question whose urgency would propel me into work I'd never imagined: Now that you've taken the bread, what are you going to do?"
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These beautiful and honest thoughts speak to the heart of how I'm beginning to envision Chrisitanity. We are not just a group of people who gather in a building once a week, listening, singing, and talking to one another. We cannot just walk out of that building thinking that time is the end of our spiritual work. That and striving to meet rule requirements is an adventure in mission the point.

My desire is to know Scripture more, teach it well, but never forget the passion of the often stumbling adventure as I journey alongside of Christ. There is wonderment here and a whole lot of uncertainty. Maybe all the time I've spent maligning my swings in faith from complete trust to barely hanging on was pointless because it's all a learning experience. Maybe remembering it's not about perfection is the biggest lesson so that I can truly be humble.

Woah God. You're blowing my mind.

Trips and Unexpected Interruptions

Due to my lack of consistent wifi on my recent trip to Buffalo, the blogging has lagged. I caught a neighbor's signal for a little while last week, but it faded and I lost a whole rant. It was pretty scathing, so I think it's just as well lost in cyberspace.

Last week's trip back the hometown was rough on a lot of levels. I really don't have family there anymore, so I stayed with my best friend from high school. She's going through a huge life transition, as she just discovered her pregnancy (about 6 months in), is dealing with this alongside a boyfriend who is pretty supportive, but having to navigate sharing their house with her boyfriend's brother. Let's just say he's more than a little tough to get along with. My vacation wasn't much of a break after all--I think my working/ministry/school/friend juggling is more peaceful than staying in that unsettled household for a week. I loved on and prayed for them all the while, but it was still a struggle. BUT, it made me so, so thankful for all that exists for me here in Boston: work that pays way more than I need, a true fellowship of believers in community, a living situation that is pleasant to come home to, etc, etc. Flying in last Friday night was so very sweet. Everytime I see the skyline again my heart gets so full. Sometimes being here is difficult, but I have a passionate love for this city. Boston to me is like New York to Carrie Bradshaw, but for reasons much broader and deeper than hers.
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One of my gracious readers made note that I never directly blogged about what happened at Cafe Rossini a few weeks back, so here's the scoop:

Stacey stayed over Saturday night and we decided to head over to Rossini for some good coffee and muffins before we had community cleanup Sunday afternoon. I'd been in the place a couple times before since it's just on the other side of the yoga place, about a block from my apartment. Stacey brought her bible & journal while I had most of the Sunday Globe with me.

The owner at Rossini is a soup nazi-type who barks orders at her help. She's been in there every time I've stopped in. We've chatted briefly before, but nothing more than pleasantries and to complement her baked goods. She seems to enjoy talking to all her customers and sometimes butting in on interesting conversations.

That's exactly what happened when Stacey and I were there. We both didn't pay much attention to our reading, but talked about the chapter in Acts I was going to teach that night, along with other issues of life as a believer, including how to deal with the sexual sin of those around us. We were starting to wind up our time and began reading an article about the misspending scandal at Oral Roberts University. I mentioned it to Stacey and the cafe owner jumped right in. She talked about the tragedy of all these preachers getting caught doing so many wrong things, her own experience with ministers that live a double life, her admiration for Billy Graham (her mom took her to some Crusades when she was a kid that she said deeply impacted her), how her brother who claims to be a believer hasn't spoken to her in 20 years, how she used to study the Bible, how her longtime friend ended their friendship due to her acceptance of her friend's gay son. It went on and on. A fountain of years of hurt and frustration with the church, both Catholic and Protestant, spouted from this woman in the span of 10 minutes. I was pretty dumbfounded, as was Stacey. We just let her keep talking. The vulnerability of such a hard-headed stranger was bizarre to me. Unfortuately, we had to go, but were able to end the conversation on a good note.

I vowed to become more of a regular, but I haven't. I can blame schedule chaos and vacation, but something else is in play. Knowing her would be hard. She's not on her knees begging for Christ. She's angry. She's hurt. I represent the church that has betrayed her. I doubt myself--how can I possibly be the light that shows her the truth of the Gospel beyond all the muddying created by human hands? That's a huge responsibility. But I know that's what He's calling me to do.

Just writing this out has reminded me about those moments and granted me clarity about Christ's mission for my week in Buffalo--He was teaching me about loving those with His love that I find are hard to love. Wow. Talk about a shift in perspective.

Susan, thanks for reminding me to write about this. You are the accountability I didn't even know I needed.

Undone

I found an article on the Relevant Magazine site today that speaks directly to me about my calling and heart for people in Boston. Specifically, it clearly relates to my experience at Cafe Rossini on Sunday. May there be many more moments like that one.
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There was so much more I wanted to say to her, to ask her and to pray over her. My heart burned with compassion. But for some reason, it was left unsaid. In retrospect, I think God purposely caused me to leave things unsaid. Outreach, in its truest form, should leave many things undone in our hearts. It should leave us burning to give more, to say more, to pray more readily and more fervently. It should leave us desiring to be there every weekend or every day, not just once a month. It should leave us wanting to venture beyond the fences we have constructed and realizing that the only place for us is in the center of God's will.

I serve a God who breaks the rules every day, who invades our universe and pulls us close to Him, dancing on the wrong side of the fence. He's beckoning us to join in a wonderfully undignified, epic story, to add our culture and our stories to one another, and to join in the beautiful diversity of humanity.

All this simultaneously scares me and stirs me. I love it.

The Stories of Our Lives--Beginning of the Weekly Praise List

For lauding myself as an observer and chronicler of life, I've been doing a pretty poor job of it lately. I was in a meeting today talking about sharing our God-stories. It reminded me that that is what I created this blog to be--a place where I can come and narrate the beautiful tapestry that God is weaving of my life. But I forget. A lot. I get too busy. I don't see His hand moving.

These last 2 weeks have been ridiculously tremendous. I've seen God pour blessing upon blessing over me through multiple opportunities to serve and minister. I've known what it really feels like to work inside your gifting. I've had a little taste of this before in Poland, volunteering at Passion, and sometimes with work. But this has been like pure adrenaline injected in my veins. In the midst of feeling unsure of how to proceed in a situation, I literally feel the presence of the Spirit within me, filling me with power, wisdom, and peace. This is an experience without words to truly match it. Taste and see...

Highlights of the week:
-Getting SO much work done in so little time
-Helping families recognize progress in their children and finding joy in that
-Praying with my church family
-Giving a presentation to parents
-Having my plans spoiled a bit; missing an opportunity, but being able to recognize it was missed
-Rocking out and worshiping with The Myriad, Phil Wickham, and Crowder with LOTS of others
-Meeting Stacey's friend from Starbucks who was also, in fact, my cyber-friend
-Picking out new glasses!
-Progressive dinner: meeting new friends and having 30 people at our apartment--crazy!
-Seeing in living color a local business-owner's desperate need for the healing love of Christ and my part in sharing that love
-Cleaning up trash on a blustery day with some awesome friends
-Getting to meet a guy with special needs who asked me a billion questions but wouldn't tell me his name
-Teaching the truth of the Word to a family room full of people
-Making Jon laugh
-giving Rob a hug after everything

I could seriously go on and on. This was just last Monday to Sunday. I need to keep doing this.

God is just so immeasurably good. Praise His Name!

The Glory of It All

God is so good. He is a rescuer and restorer of souls. He is the only one who will never hurt us or disappoint. Father, thanks for being so obviously present in my day today. Thanks for using who you made me to be to touch hearts in some small way. Things will never be the same.

Red Sox Nation

I've never been what could be considered a baseball fan. Despite attending AAA Buffalo Bisons games as a kid, I never really got into the sport. I thought it was pretty boring, to be honest. My dad never really watched baseball when I was young, from what I can remember. We were always an NFL football family, and that, with college basketball, was what we watched.

But then I moved to Boston for the second time. Somehow I caught the Red Sox bug, despite the fact that they seem to find a way to lose every time I step into Fenway (including Jacoby Ellsbury's major league debut against the Texas Rangers). I actually watched a few games this year and got into it during the playoffs. It helps having 2 roommates that are rabid fans.

So, here I sit on the day of the 2007 World Series victory parade watching Fever Pitch.

I love this town.

Oh Great God...

He is truly the provider of all good things. Man, it just keeps coming. In the midst of my exhaustion, He decided to show up with a group of us picking up trash in our church's neighborhood. To many people, today might not have seemed like a big deal, but it was the beginnings of lightning striking ground like Piper talked about on Saturday morning. It was a beautiful thing that almost all of our students who were at Passion took part in serving today. God is good, and He's promised so much more.

More came tonight at church. It was the first time we gathered all together after the weekend at Baxter and Passion. The words of hope, confirmation, and mission spoken in that room tonight were thickly evident with the Holy Spirit's work. To just sit in there and hear all of those thoughts and stories was really humbling. My heart resonated so much with all of them that I was in tears most of the time. So, so beautiful.

I love this city and the students here so much. Today was clear evidence that we're all on-board with God's movement here. God, keep pressing us forward into becoming the people that You use to revolutionize this city. Keep us on our knees. Reveal Yourself in new ways through Your Word. Make us humble servants. Show us the hard decisions that must be made to live lives of those who passionately run after You.

There is none like You.

Hosanna!

I've been in a blogging drought, but I have a feeling that's about to change.

From where I sit right now, my body is completely exhausted after 2-15 & 16 hour days of standing, running, talking, laughing, and crying at Passion:Boston. I've volunteered before, but this experience was nothing like I've experienced in the past. I'm still dumbfounded by and in awe of what very little I've begun to process through.

God showed up in my city. I don't think I ever doubted that He is here, but the last 2 days of seeing students from here lifting praise after praise....well, that just busted open my paradigm (again). Maybe I too have fallen into the lie that Boston is such a "hard" place--insinuating that it is outside the reach of God's hand. Maybe I'm more stuck on numbers and results that I knew. Maybe I need to really, truly, let go of my ideas about what God is doing here among students and just be a part of leading them out into it.

Things are much clearer today than they've been in SUCH a long time. I am absolutely, overwhelming grateful for the presence of God. He is the KING over this map of little green and red pins that represent the campuses of Boston & Cambridge. He's got a divine purpose for each one of those pins and all those students they represent.

This city on a hill is primed for a revolution through which millions of lives will be changed forever.

Save us now, for we need a rescue that isn't temporary, but the only cure for endlessly seeking souls.

Hosanna.

None But Jesus

In the quiet
In the stillness
I know, that you are God
In the secret
Of your presence
There I am restored

When you call I won't refuse
Each new day again I’ll choose

There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring him praise

In the chaos
In confusion, I know
You’re sovereign still
In the moment
Of my weakness
You give, me grace to do your will

So when you call I won’t delay
This my song, through all my days

There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring him praise

All my delight is in you Lord
All of my hope, all of my strength
All my delight is in you Lord
Forevermore

There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring him praise

Let God Arise

Tomorrow (aka today since I can't seem to get my butt to bed) is going to mark a milestone in my life....I'm leading a possibly large group of people in prayer. I've given presentations a million times and been on stage in dramas, but this is scary for me. I know that God has called me to preach to the prodigals, but this is the first time I've had the chance to put it into practice. I'm afraid of doing something wrong--somehow not honoring God as He deserves to be honored....but maybe that's the wrong focus. Maybe, just maybe, the act of humbling myself to get up there and chance that possibility of imperfection is how God wants to be honored. Maybe it's poetic justice that the prayer supports a lesson about getting in line with becoming who God desires to use for His glory.

Let God arise.

Download Festival 2007

Bang Camaro (20 guys on stage)







Band of Horses











Lap steel goodness (check the video)

I'm going to bed...

...but be prepared for another post tomorrow, regaling you with photos and videos from the Download Festival. It was nothing short of awesome.

Now I must ignore the neighbors being loud on their back porch (a downside of attempting to sleep on a city summer weekend night) and go to bed. I am completely freaking exhausted.

I Was A Church Drop-out

Hi. My name is Jen and I was a church drop-out. (Everybody now: "Hi Jen.")

I never recognized this fact until today. I was on the tail end of a 2-day collegiate fall planning meeting and we were talking about a recent study concerning the reasons why people 18-22 drop out of church. In the middle of that data fest (that I truly enjoyed, I might add), I discovered that I once met the criteria to be defined as a church dropout. And here I am, now ministering through an institution I once eschewed. Is that ironic?

Once I got over the initial shock of it all, I began to press into processing the richness of what God might want to teach me in this. Some big questions rose to the surface: what differentiates the church from on-campus/parachurch ministries; do college students really desire to seek community from the church (is that a motivating factor for them to attend); and, essentially, what is church?

These are questions that will not be answered in a matter of minutes or days. There's a lot of prayer and reading that will be put into these first things. But seriously, isn't this something that must be done before moving forward? This is the beginnings of a philosophy of ministry.

Dang. That's scary.

To See Things as They Really Are -or- Life After a Raspberry Mojito

Doing life with people is ramshackle and difficult. It's messy and confusing. But it can be beautiful, true, and God-in-flesh. It felt like this week was much more full of the former rather than the latter, but when I sit back and examine it, there were both huge highs and lows.

Some moments at work, dealing with a difficult parent and child, just tore me up emotionally. But sitting back on the other side of my week-ending, perfect raspberry mojito, I can see how God just screamed His glory through that situation, community caring for a member in need, my parent's visit, persistent prayers of a community, time with a friend, and a glimpse deeper into who He desires someone to be.

God, You are just SO big. I beg that You would allow me to see with Your eyes all those things that I disregard or wrongfully place in the column of negative experiences. Deepen my love for You and Your people.

Weary

Today was one of those long days that started out with bizarre, frustrating traffic early in the morning and just kept going. I felt off-kilter all day long and really had to fight for focus on the right things. It was one of those battle days that leave you exhausted in body and spirit. God, I need a deep drink of You right now.

Freedom

I had dinner with one of my roommates last night and she said something that I've been processing for the last 24 hours. She has some South Korean friends that believe that unity with North Korea will provide the best way for the gospel to move forward there. When pressed about the terms by which this unification would take place, even to the point of South Korea coming under the regime of Kim Jong-il and his policies, the Korean Christians were willing to give it all up for the sake of the cause of Christ.

My roommate and I sat and thought about the profundity of sacrifice that we perceive that to be. In America, where freedom is prized above all else, what has that freedom afforded us where Christianity is concerned? Has it made the gospel spread or has it lent itself to idleness, debauchery, and pressing farther away from God as a nation? Has the American Church become so diluted because of freedom? What does freedom mean in light of Philippians 2:1-11 for us and those Korean believers?

I know these are dangerous questions and ones to be pondered much longer than a day. Know that I'm coming from a perspective of a person who went to a very politically conservative Christian college, listens to talk radio, and usually votes Republican. Also know that I'm not quick to draw causation from isolated information.

All I know is I want to be more like Christ and who He sees me as. If that means rending all that I understand about what it means to be an American, then I must do it. I'm seeing more and more that viewing ourselves as a chosen nation is simply pompous.

Thankful Heart

I just enjoyed a really good Saturday, full of a random trip to Nantasket beach and yummy dinner with girlfriends. It was a really good day of taking the scenic drive to Hull, giving a tour of the South Shore to a native of Martha's Vineyard. It was pretty sweet seeing the tide roll in to completely swallow up the beach we were once laying on. We had some fantastic ice cream which we ate while watching crazy people play in the chilly breaking waves. Then it was off to a homemade dinner in Mission Hill with some lovely ladies. We shared books, conversation, music, a few beers, and God made Himself known.

Thanks Michelle and Carissa. Thanks God, for answering that prayer.

FastLane

You all know what I'm talking about...those "self-service" check-out kiosks that are now found everywhere from WalMart to Home Depot to the big grocery store chains. I really hate these things. I had a run-in with one just now that reminded me how annoyed I get with them. I won't even look at one at Home Depot since the thing will automatically start spurting out some error message once it detects my gaze.

Anyway, I had a weak moment at Shaw's tonight while picking up some yummy Dove ice cream (chocolate ganache!!) to nosh on while I listen to Joey's late night radio show. I just had the one thing, so you know, the self-service deal would be faster, right?

The answer is: No. First off, I waited for about 3-4 minutes for these women who were chatty Cathies to get through with their dueling purchases so another woman and I could use the adjacent machines. That was just a poor choice of venue on my part. Then it was my turn at checkout #14. I swipe my "rewards" card (aka you better use this or your groceries will cost twice the GDP of Nicaragua) and get some error about an 'unknown' item. I swipe it again. Same error. I figure I can ignore this and swipe the ice cream. Ice cream rings up ok. I press the button to finish. Swipe rewards card. It miraculously works this time. I get my debit card ready to go to make it all legal. THEN... You need assistance due to the 'unknown' item. Are there any employees manning the 6 self-service deals? No. Of course not. So I stand there, with red light blinking above said kiosk, frozen with debit card in hand, wondering if the ganache is worth this technological glitch. I stick it out, looking in vain for assistance. Finally a kindly elderly stocker sees some combination of my helpless expression and the blinking crimson orb and gets the attention of the "big shots" (his term). I fork over the funds (electronically, of course) and leave the store about 10 minutes later than I'd wanted to.

Moral: avoid the self-service line. Stop being an American for once and let someone else whom you already pay and who might know what they're doing take care of it for you.

Now, time for that Caramel Pecan Perfection....

The Pity Party is Over

I have officially landed in bad-attitude land. I want nothing more today than to sit on my butt in my pjs and do NOTHING at all, except maybe watch Lost for hours on end. My head hurts, I'm exhausted, and I would rather not teach autistic children for 4 hours this afternoon. I want to sleep and complain. I want to be completely unproductive. I want to not do the several various paperworky tasks that I'm either behind on or just avoiding. ARGH.

I am so lame. Just by the mere fact that I'm complaining about this stuff shows just how lame I am. Millions of people around the world never get a day of not working (aka weekend), let alone national holidays, or even jobs that can support them without working 12 hours (or more) a day. Those people struggle to feed themselves while my friends and I sat noshing next to a river for most of yesterday without even a second thought.

Life is just not a bed of roses today, but sometimes I've just got to fight for joy--to see the glimmer of hope, redemption, and resurrection that's told in every story, in every moment. That's my mission in life as an ambassador for Christ. Maybe missions is just about being that watcher who translates moments of pain, or exhaustion, or darkness, into hope.

Today I need to translate for myself.

Heart and Home

This was one of those nearly perfect weekends, filled with activity to the point of sweet exhaustion. I did more in the last three days than one can imagine, all the while renewing my love for a city that rarely fails to take my breath away. Renewing a passionate first love through the eyes of someone experiencing that love at first sight was pure breath into my lungs.

There's so many bits of this weekend that were God's hand at work, from the perfectly sunny nearly humidity-free 70s temperatures, to a 24-hr flight delay, to humbling mistakes, to missed Sox game shuttles, to late night conversations. I am thankful He was present here in every moment, even the ones that weren't "perfect" or holy. Those things were all knit together for our good and His glory.

God, thank you for people that love and surround me that respond to Your urging and voice. Thank you for opening a heart. Thank you for words You gave me to speak. Thank you for the humility You brought at the beginning to make those words possible. God, You are so good.