blow wind, blow...

Last night I found myself on a park bench on the Beverly common. I was sweating out my upcoming teaching and muttering a few prayers. There was a group of local toughs sitting on the art college steps right behind me, greeting one another with their 'fuck yous' and gleefully haranguing each car that drove down the adjacent street. Suprisingly, they said nothing to me. Perhaps they considered a geek sitting alone with buechner in one hand and the bible in the other too easy of a target.

Anyway, as I sat on the bench I was thankful for the relative peace as well as the autumn twinged august breeze that was drifting through the park. As I was putting my holy books into my satchel and preparing to walk to church I saw a lady walking down the brick path towards me. She was thin, middle-aged and, by all appearances, homeless, though she seemed fairly well put together. In that moment, either the wind or the Spirit (even the Apostles had difficulty distinguishing between the two) seemed to suggest that she needed direction. I reflexively suppressed the voice, as I am wont to do, but as the woman shuffled closer I saw her eyes lift expectantly and she prepared herself to speak. 'I'll be damned,' I thought. Maybe there was substance to that voice after all. I gradually made eye contact with her and softly smiled so as to welcome her approach. Perhaps this will be an instance in which God provides an opportunity for me to see the power of the gospel at work, I thought. These moments never happen to me on airplanes, but perhaps it could happen on the common.

After five seconds of real time, but fifteen minutes worth of internal monologue, she asked me if the library was open. I told her that it was and would remain so until nine o'clock. She exhaled quickly and told me that 'I have to pee like crazy.' I walked about fifteen yards towards the library with her, told her where the john was and went on my way.

Obviously our conversation defied my expectations and the direction she needed was quite different from that which I was prepared to give. And yet, I am thankful for that brief encounter, for it reminded me yet again of my need to receive people as well as my desire to help guide them along the way. In the end, I can't help but wonder whether pointing her to the john was just as important as pointing her to Jesus.

happy haiku friday!

eggs 0800

breakfast 1300

faithful in the midst

overheard

"if you want to go fast, go alone.
if you want to go far, go together."

frustration.

work in a web company,
 on a computer that runs like a 386
without even trying
 i come off like a dick
frustration, what am i going to do with you?
 it'll take a lot more mercy and a little more grace
 to get me through

it seems the harder i try
 the less i get done
i am dying in this cubicle
 with no access to the sun
frustration, what am i going to do with you?
 it'll take a lot more mercy and a little more grace
 to get me through

You command us not to be anxious
 to consider flowers in the midst of complication
but it's hard to hear you from where i stand
 i'd like to comply but doubt that i can
so, steeped in cynicism, i remain exiled in this land
 of frustration.

frustration. what the hell am i going to do with You?
 Who speaks of home and promises to see me through

sinners and saints gathered to worship last night

our worship gathering took place on the corner of rantoul and federal street. no songs were sung, no overwrought teachings endured and no offering collected. our theme for the evening was returning and the tone of the evening was celebration.

as soon as the u-haul creeped onto rantoul street our gathering began. for the next four hours there were many hugs, excited chatter and not a little laughter. the gathering was characterized by a good deal of work, as we carried hundreds of boxes, odd pieces of furniture and even mr. potato head into the primary colored apartment. however, grounded in the context of celebration, the work was a delight. through the front door, teams of two carried a sleigh bed as well as an animated conversation. through the back door stretched an assembly line of sinners who were eager to pass dishes, share michael jackson jokes and proclaim the good news to one another.

and the people...what a collection of sinners. there was a former hippie, a frat boy impersonating a pastor and two flaming gay pagans among our number. yet our sweaty, practical expressions of love, the dreams shared in the intimate company of good ole sam smith and the easy transition from unrestrained conviviality to fervent prayer suggested that the Spirit is once shaping nothing into something. He seems to be fashioning a community of sinners into saints.

i have stumbled into Your presence many times, but there was something special, dare i say sacred, about last night. though our values are undefined, our network is tattered and the consequences of discipleship are leaving many of us torn, You are working among us. You, O Lord, are indeed in the process of making all things, even this community of sinners, new. gracias.

yet another disturbing report from the campaign trail

as politicians on both sides of the aisle continue to conflate Christianity with constitutional government I find myself overwhelmingly thankful for, and longing for a healthier expression of, the separation of church and state. Sovereign Lord, please ensure that these two will never become one. Except in a certain county of south carolina. they can run their sanitarium in whatever way they see fit.