At the start of every SPEC retreat, we go around and introduce our team. We share some things about ourselves and such.... some stick to one intro, I often randomly share whatever it is I want to that day. Oftentimes funny stories go over well- and this month brought me one I now found myself sharing in my intro....
A handful of us had gone out to "Home Base", a Lowes/HomeDepot type store to shop for paint for SPEC's redecorating project. While there, I picked up some Frebreeze. (Nothing like spraying some casually on your sheets and clothes!) I made my way to the check out. That is, what they call in England a "till." I have become very much aware of this fact. As I approached said till, there was a good lookin' guy behind the counter. Probably too young for me, but I digress....
I stepped up to the counter and not thinking twice asked, "Can you check me out??" While this question might come out a little funny in the states, it came out a lot funny in a country that doesn't even call it a check out. The poor chap looked confused...until I broke the silence with my All-American smile. He eventually said, "Ohhh! Are you from America??" We continued some small talk-- the exchange is often the same.. I mention I'm from Pittsburgh he replies with something he knows about Pennsylvania (usually Philadelphia)-- yada yada yada.
And that was the day I stood with Frebreeze in hand and asked to be checked out by a young man at an English till.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I apoogize for my lack of posting...
Life has gotten pretty crazy. Or crazier, I suppose. But that doesn't excuse the fact that I haven't written in nearly four months. I am going to try and write more often. For now, though, I thought I would share the piece I wrote for EqUIP, EUIP's newsletter kind of thing. Each intern takes a turn writing a reflection for the newsletter and this month was my turn.
++++++++++
“Any socks today?” Rob asked, lifting up his pant leg to show me his sock-less foot stuffed into a sneaker at least two sizes too small. I shook my head.
“Sorry, we’re still out of them. Hopefully we’ll be getting some soon?” I had to phrase it as a question because I had no idea when we’d have socks to hand out again.
I see over one hundred different youth each month, most of whom don’t have a place to stay; a job; or enough money for a meal. They come to Common Ground to get a few of the things they can’t afford for themselves and to get away from the drama of the streets for a few hours. I quickly learned that I wouldn’t be able to give my “clients” (as we call anyone who utilizes services at Common Ground) everything they need. I have a limited supply of socks and blankets to give out, and only when the agency is lucky enough to get them. I pass out some food, but it’s never quite enough to fill stomachs.
I love my job, but it is also heartbreaking. In the last five months, I’ve encountered issues of intense poverty, addiction, and abuse. I constantly have to break bad news to people, whether it’s telling them we don’t have enough food for second helpings or telling them we don’t have any blankets even though it will be rainy and 40 degrees that night. When the food, socks, and blankets run out, though, I can still sit and talk. I try my best to listen to the people who usually get ignored and the stories that often go untold.
Last week, I ran into a former client of mine who had come back to the agency to meet with another staff member. I’d only met with him once and was sure he’d forgotten me, but I was wrong. He came up to me and enthusiastically shook my hand, telling me how grateful he was for me just sitting and talking with him. Despite the frustrations of my job, I’ve realized that I am making a difference. It constantly amazes me how something as easy as lending an ear can make such a huge difference. I may not be able to do everything I would like to do, but I’ll just keep doing what I can, even if it is simply a ministry of presence.
++++++++++
“Any socks today?” Rob asked, lifting up his pant leg to show me his sock-less foot stuffed into a sneaker at least two sizes too small. I shook my head.
“Sorry, we’re still out of them. Hopefully we’ll be getting some soon?” I had to phrase it as a question because I had no idea when we’d have socks to hand out again.
I see over one hundred different youth each month, most of whom don’t have a place to stay; a job; or enough money for a meal. They come to Common Ground to get a few of the things they can’t afford for themselves and to get away from the drama of the streets for a few hours. I quickly learned that I wouldn’t be able to give my “clients” (as we call anyone who utilizes services at Common Ground) everything they need. I have a limited supply of socks and blankets to give out, and only when the agency is lucky enough to get them. I pass out some food, but it’s never quite enough to fill stomachs.
I love my job, but it is also heartbreaking. In the last five months, I’ve encountered issues of intense poverty, addiction, and abuse. I constantly have to break bad news to people, whether it’s telling them we don’t have enough food for second helpings or telling them we don’t have any blankets even though it will be rainy and 40 degrees that night. When the food, socks, and blankets run out, though, I can still sit and talk. I try my best to listen to the people who usually get ignored and the stories that often go untold.
Last week, I ran into a former client of mine who had come back to the agency to meet with another staff member. I’d only met with him once and was sure he’d forgotten me, but I was wrong. He came up to me and enthusiastically shook my hand, telling me how grateful he was for me just sitting and talking with him. Despite the frustrations of my job, I’ve realized that I am making a difference. It constantly amazes me how something as easy as lending an ear can make such a huge difference. I may not be able to do everything I would like to do, but I’ll just keep doing what I can, even if it is simply a ministry of presence.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
My modern day wailing wall.
Don't expect this to be the norm. Two posts in one night. Unlikely. But here we go again. I struggle with so much. Particularly lately though I feel lament laying on my heart. In our culture we've really lost the power of lament. The power of being so angry at God that we throw our hands, fists, voices up in defiance. Not because we doubt the goodness of God, but precisely because we believe powerfully and deeply in the goodness of God. Disappointment is such a powerful part of relationship. We have expectations. Let's be honest about that. And because not everyone can always get what they want or even articulate what they want, expectations aren't met. And let's be really honest: shitty things happen. Haiti, Chicago, LA, Columbus. Kids aren't coming from safe homes, teenagers are testing positive for life changing diseases, parents can't feed their families, an entire country is torn apart by the deepest devastation (don't even get me started on those people that say we should be helping our own first...that's a whole other rant). But if my options are yelling or silence? I'm going to choose yelling. If that's the only way I can keep in conversation and relation with God, then that's what it's going to be. And that's what it should be. God can handle it. God deserves my honesty. God already knows it (I guess), why shouldn't I be able to say it? So I'm interested in thoughts about expressing lament. Here's one expression of lament I'd like to share (again stolen from another blog, but great nonetheless).
Thanks poet-writer Mae Jackson for submitting your poem to the blog as an example of what a modern psalm of lament might sound like.
******************************************************************************************************************
I wonder who’s gonna be so bold as to
walk up to God and say
“ Brother man,
What’s up with this?”
Who’s gonna call God to the floor
check his agenda for disaster
censor his freedom of speech…
take away his position the way they did Amiri Baraka
when
he
wondered
out loud
“who blew up america?”
the last I heard
270,000 people of color were
wiped out
just like that
without a word of warning
the ocean opened up its mouth
swellings
until it had reached it natural capacity for mass consumption and destruction
sucking out the life of
my sisters
my brothers
our children
can not breath
they can not live
they will not live
Hey you
(I say to God)
What you got against people of color?
What you got against the poor?
What you got against working class folks?
And he replied
“whatever”
who’s gonna accuse God of murder
throw him in jail
like they did mumia?
Hey you
I said to God
sitting high and looking low
where were you when
white america
dummied down demoracy
and threw the last two elections?
God replied
“you talking to me?”
as if he had never
heard
the many prayers I’d uttered for
freedom
Yea,
I’m talking to you -
God Almighty
And,
(I might add)
I don’t like your attitude
where were you God
when the children of South Asia cried out for their mothers and fathers
to protect them from your wrath
their bodies sucked into the nothingness
did they not cry out loud enough for you to hear them?
I speak to God
requesting his presence
“”man up God”, I say
I demand an audience of one with you
A no show
One more time again
…a probability
you were too busy
with George Bush on his Texas ranch
Bar-b-quing
social security &
health care
to notice
the suffering
of the world’s people
a possibility you were
attending
puff daddy’s
Xmas party
for the rich and famous
preoccupied (I suppose)
with
50cent
and
Jay-z
purchasing diamond watches & rings
costing $100,000 and more…
from men
who went into the bowls of South Africa
stealing everything they now sell
to merchants of death
who go by the name of
Rappers
AUGUST 28,2005 Hurricane Katrina
Where yawl at”
I ask
“We in the water”
that’s what she said
and where is God?
I ask humbly
She drowned before she could answer me
“Well now, Lawdy, Lawdy Miss Claudie you sure…
I ain’t no singer but I can change the lyrics
“Well now, Lawdy, Lawdy Miss Claudie looks like God has abandoned you
what you gonna do now that you God is gone?
I loved him
I loved him so much
I loved him everyday of my life
I loved him when the rent was due
When the eviction notice was tacked on my door
I loved him when I had no food in my refrigerator
I loved him in the midnight hour
I loved him when the evil wind blew no good
I cried out to him
crawling on my knees
trying to get out of the mess I was in
“help me!”
please
He did not come then
Later much later
He showed up with three white men
and took Emmett Till to the Tallahatchie River
He showed up in jail and beat Fannie Lou Hammer
He showed up at the assassinations of Malcolm X
And Dr. King
He may not come when you call him
but he’s always on time..
for those who rule the world
like sam cook
“I was born by the river in a little tent…”
I know,
I know
you didn’t see me
but that’s no excuse for not hearing me
when I was floating on a mattress in my kitchen
I reached out to you
“take my hand, precious Lord, take my hand”…
my ole man
reached out to save me
he had to let me go to take the hand of our child…
when I was in the superdome
and the rain was pouring down
“I just want you close…
you and me together through the days and nights”
Alicia Keys sing
“everything is gonna be alright”
nothing was
nothing is
and today
from somewhere I found the strength
to rise again
from the muddy waters of new orleans and Mississippi
they thought I was dead
in the eulogy they wrote ( and sent out all over the world)
they called me
a refugee
they said I was black,
poor,
uneducated with the propensity towards criminal intent
I would not be missed…
I came back…
I found ancestors at the bottom of the sea that resuscitated me
and now I am born again
from their love
today
you have reasons to worry
“there is no easy way to learn how to fly”
today I rise
Your way of life has so little to do with what you feel and love in the world.
I grabbed this from another website. but I thought it was relevant. This year hasn't been what any of us thought or hoped it would be. I'm sure in a year, looking back I'll believe in the good. I'll have a sense of what it's all for, but right now I'm disappointed, hurting, lonely, and lacking identity. I think it's fair to say we're all struggling.
“If you were a stone, you could remain still, gathered in silent witness in the same landscape. The horizons and the infinity would never trouble you. Nothing could draw you out. As a human, your daily experience is riven with fracture and fragmentation.
Like a nomad you wander from event to event, from person to person, unable to settle anywhere for too long. The day is a chase after ghost duties; at evening you are exhausted. A day is over and so much of it was wasted on things that meant to little to you, duties and meetings from which your heart was absent. Months and years pass and you fumble on, still incapable of finding a foothold on the path of time you walk.
A large proportion of your activity distracts you from remembering that you are a guest of the universe, to whom one life has been given. You mistake the insisten pressure of daily demands for reality and your more delicate and intuitive nature wilts. When you wake from your obsessions, you feel cheated.
Your longing is being numbed and your longing becomes merely external. Your way of life has so little to do with what you feel and love in the world. But, because of the many demands on you and responsibilities that you have, you feel helpless to gather your self; you are dragged in so many directions away from true belonging.”
From ‘Eternal Echoes’ by John O Donohue
Sunday, November 8, 2009
White Culture.
Long time, no post. Sorry about the delay.
LVC is officially in full swing. We began two weeks ago now with our 124-LVCers converging on DC for a week long orientation. We had a very full week of community building, anti-racism training, personal safety training, and discussions about sustainability/simplicity. We got there on Sunday night and left on Saturday afternoon.
Then Sunday morning (after a 17.5 hour train ride!) we arrived in Chicago. We've now been here a week. We have been given time to settle into our new homes, communities, and city. We were able to see everyone in our house's placements (which was really interesting and gave us a solid framework). We officially started work on Thursday, but I haven't been back to my placement yet. I've spent those two days in training for LI-Heap (Low Income Home Energy Assistance Program) which begins on September 1. My first day at Howard Area Community Center will be on Monday! Wish me luck! Today we had a potluck at the lake with all of the Chicago Area LVCers (there are 13 of us in three houses: Casa Romero, Sojourner Truth and Carter Heywood).
It's all been good and overwhelming and about just settling in. But I really wanted to share some thoughts about something we discussed in our two days of anti-racism training: White Culture.
First this poem was shown to us and I wanted to share it with you.
It's called "Southern Heritage" by Jason Carney.
In light of this and my anti-racist training. I am a white American. I know very few details about my heritage outside of a few legendary references (I may have some Native American and French), but my ancestry has never been chronicled. Throughout the years I have felt a little lost, lacking true identity and culture. I have always prized cultures where there is a strong community, a strong sense of identity attached to belonging in that community. I have always felt a sense of loss at my own lack of culture. However, I've never been forced, or even asked, to look at my true culture within the United States: White Culture.
___________
I wrote that several months ago and never really got around to finishing the post. Primarily because I think I have yet to find a true answer as to what white culture is and how I fit into that legacy.
Having recently returned from Fall Retreat, these thoughts are forefront in my mind again. We were once again asked to revisit our anti-racism training and to continue the process we began in D.C.. I am struggling to claim an anti-racist identity. I am struggling not to be lost in the truly terrible aspects of my white culture. I have been overwhelmed by my own _____participation? benefits? role?
What I am failing to articulate as clearly as I would like is this: I am struggling. I am struggling with the guilt I have for being a white United States of American, the difficulty I have in reclaiming a white culture that can be positive and honoring to all, and I have yet to find a way to live into an anti-racist identity.
Peace,
Amanda
Sunday, October 11, 2009
"Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really love my church in Los Angeles. If you are ever in Los Angeles on a Sunday morning and are looking for a good contemporary worship experience in a great community atmosphere, you should stop by St. Stephen’s.
One of my favorite things about the service on Sunday is that the sermon is usually a conversation. Our rector, Jaime, provides some background or historical context for the passage and often some popular interpretations. He may preach for a bit, but that is always followed by a discussion with the congregation. This week, in particular, we had a really good conversation. The gospel reading for today was from Mark 10:17-31 (which I have copied and pasted below). It's a passage I've always kind of struggled with and so it was really wonderful to grapple with it in my worship community and to hear other perspectives on what it means for us. Jaime also usually starts the conversation by throwing out a few questions: what strikes you about this passage? What is the good news in this passage? What is the bad news in this passage?
Mark 10:17-31 (NRSV)
As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honour your father and mother.” ’ He said to him, ‘Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.’ Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, ‘How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!’ And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, ‘Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.’ They were greatly astounded and said to one another, ‘Then who can be saved?’ Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’
Peter began to say to him, ‘Look, we have left everything and followed you.’ Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.’
So, what is the bad news and what is the good news? What strikes you about this passage?
To be perfectly honest, this passage has a whole lot of bad news for me. I love stuff. My MacBook and DVR are a couple of my favorite things. I brought two suitcases and a box of stuff to California but still have a room and closet full of my possessions back in Ohio. Material possessions give a certain level of comfort; they make me feel more settled and more at home. I have thirteen pairs of shoes with me in California. Do I really need all four pairs of sneakers I have? Or all five pairs of sandals? Of course not. Am I going to do anything about the fact that I have way more than I need? Maybe. Maybe not. So, for me, this passage has a lot of bad news. How am I going to get into the kingdom of heaven when I have all of this STUFF? Some people say that this passage is a metaphor for ridding ourselves of everything that stands between us and God, or that Jesus doesn't really mean that we have to sell everything and give it to the poor, but just give up some things (after all, if everyone who had stuff sold it all and gave to the poor, then the situation would flip. Those who are poor now would have stuff and they'd have to sell everything and give to US. Right? Right? Right...)
Wrong. Well, kind of wrong. To me, this passage does speak to the necessity of ridding ourselves of everything that stands between ourselves and God. I think that includes all of the material crap we have (Sure, I’ll admit it, all of the stuff I have distracts me from more important things in life.) If it weren’t for the internet and DVR, among other things, I’d probably be more intentional in my community interactions and more conscious of a lot of the things happening around me. I do think, however, that this speaks to more than just the material things but also all of the other things in our lives that distract us from being in communion with God, whether those things are concrete or abstract.
One of the reasons I decided to do a year in EUIP was to try to live without as many of those things to distract me from God. I did leave a lot of things behind, but I haven’t gotten rid of everything. I’m working on it. I’m trying. I’m not there yet. But the thing is, I never will be. At least not by myself. And this is where the good news of this passage comes in. (No pun intended with the use of the phrase “good news,” by the way). When Jesus said how hard it would be for a rich man to get into heaven, even if he lived out the commandments in his everyday life, the disciples were seriously disturbed. I bet they were thinking "oh crap. If this guy can't do it, who can? And then, to make matters worse, Jesus says “For mortals it is impossible..." At first, this can be really hard to hear. For mortals it’s impossible? Well, where is the hope in that? We’re all screwed. Right? Right? Right…
Wrong again. For God, all things are possible. We can’t do it. But God can. As much as we follow the commandments and live out the Gospel in our everyday lives, that’s all we can do. All we can do is try (and hopefully try our best). The rest is up to God. We can’t save ourselves, so matter how hard we try. This can be hard to hear, too, though. I know I like to take charge, to be in control. When you like to be in control, how hard can it be to accept that you can’t do anything? I think we all know the answer to this question. It's hard. Really hard. Marta even talked about this in her blog a few weeks ago...
Something else that struck me about this passage (and was brought up by someone else in church today) was how this was kind of a call-to-action from Jesus to the rich man. The rich guy had spent his life following all of these commandments that we've been given. He doesn't murder, or commit adultery, or steal, or bear false witness. So what does he do? These commandments are all about not doing something. I mean, sure, the guy honors his parents but even that is very passive. So Jesus tells him to get active, to go out and do something!
Finally, the last thing that really stood out to me (and which was also pointed out in church) was how Jesus wasn't just rebuking this guy. He wasn't writing him off as not being good enough. Sure, he could be doing more, but "Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’" Jesus loved him.
Well, this turned out to be much more preachy than I expected it to be, so my apologies. I've been struggling to find something to write for quite some time (hence my lack of posts for the past few weeks), but after church today I could stop thinking about this. So, for you, what is the bad news in this and what is the good news? You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I enjoyed contemplating it.
One of my favorite things about the service on Sunday is that the sermon is usually a conversation. Our rector, Jaime, provides some background or historical context for the passage and often some popular interpretations. He may preach for a bit, but that is always followed by a discussion with the congregation. This week, in particular, we had a really good conversation. The gospel reading for today was from Mark 10:17-31 (which I have copied and pasted below). It's a passage I've always kind of struggled with and so it was really wonderful to grapple with it in my worship community and to hear other perspectives on what it means for us. Jaime also usually starts the conversation by throwing out a few questions: what strikes you about this passage? What is the good news in this passage? What is the bad news in this passage?
Mark 10:17-31 (NRSV)
As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honour your father and mother.” ’ He said to him, ‘Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.’ Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, ‘How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!’ And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, ‘Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.’ They were greatly astounded and said to one another, ‘Then who can be saved?’ Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’
Peter began to say to him, ‘Look, we have left everything and followed you.’ Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.’
So, what is the bad news and what is the good news? What strikes you about this passage?
To be perfectly honest, this passage has a whole lot of bad news for me. I love stuff. My MacBook and DVR are a couple of my favorite things. I brought two suitcases and a box of stuff to California but still have a room and closet full of my possessions back in Ohio. Material possessions give a certain level of comfort; they make me feel more settled and more at home. I have thirteen pairs of shoes with me in California. Do I really need all four pairs of sneakers I have? Or all five pairs of sandals? Of course not. Am I going to do anything about the fact that I have way more than I need? Maybe. Maybe not. So, for me, this passage has a lot of bad news. How am I going to get into the kingdom of heaven when I have all of this STUFF? Some people say that this passage is a metaphor for ridding ourselves of everything that stands between us and God, or that Jesus doesn't really mean that we have to sell everything and give it to the poor, but just give up some things (after all, if everyone who had stuff sold it all and gave to the poor, then the situation would flip. Those who are poor now would have stuff and they'd have to sell everything and give to US. Right? Right? Right...)
Wrong. Well, kind of wrong. To me, this passage does speak to the necessity of ridding ourselves of everything that stands between ourselves and God. I think that includes all of the material crap we have (Sure, I’ll admit it, all of the stuff I have distracts me from more important things in life.) If it weren’t for the internet and DVR, among other things, I’d probably be more intentional in my community interactions and more conscious of a lot of the things happening around me. I do think, however, that this speaks to more than just the material things but also all of the other things in our lives that distract us from being in communion with God, whether those things are concrete or abstract.
One of the reasons I decided to do a year in EUIP was to try to live without as many of those things to distract me from God. I did leave a lot of things behind, but I haven’t gotten rid of everything. I’m working on it. I’m trying. I’m not there yet. But the thing is, I never will be. At least not by myself. And this is where the good news of this passage comes in. (No pun intended with the use of the phrase “good news,” by the way). When Jesus said how hard it would be for a rich man to get into heaven, even if he lived out the commandments in his everyday life, the disciples were seriously disturbed. I bet they were thinking "oh crap. If this guy can't do it, who can? And then, to make matters worse, Jesus says “For mortals it is impossible..." At first, this can be really hard to hear. For mortals it’s impossible? Well, where is the hope in that? We’re all screwed. Right? Right? Right…
Wrong again. For God, all things are possible. We can’t do it. But God can. As much as we follow the commandments and live out the Gospel in our everyday lives, that’s all we can do. All we can do is try (and hopefully try our best). The rest is up to God. We can’t save ourselves, so matter how hard we try. This can be hard to hear, too, though. I know I like to take charge, to be in control. When you like to be in control, how hard can it be to accept that you can’t do anything? I think we all know the answer to this question. It's hard. Really hard. Marta even talked about this in her blog a few weeks ago...
Something else that struck me about this passage (and was brought up by someone else in church today) was how this was kind of a call-to-action from Jesus to the rich man. The rich guy had spent his life following all of these commandments that we've been given. He doesn't murder, or commit adultery, or steal, or bear false witness. So what does he do? These commandments are all about not doing something. I mean, sure, the guy honors his parents but even that is very passive. So Jesus tells him to get active, to go out and do something!
Finally, the last thing that really stood out to me (and which was also pointed out in church) was how Jesus wasn't just rebuking this guy. He wasn't writing him off as not being good enough. Sure, he could be doing more, but "Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’" Jesus loved him.
Well, this turned out to be much more preachy than I expected it to be, so my apologies. I've been struggling to find something to write for quite some time (hence my lack of posts for the past few weeks), but after church today I could stop thinking about this. So, for you, what is the bad news in this and what is the good news? You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I enjoyed contemplating it.
Monday, September 21, 2009
God Is Already There- One Less Thing To Pack!
Many great insights were passed on to the 50 YAGMs during our Orientation in Chicago at the end of August. Advice, discussions, counsel, and poignant theology made our week with presenters, alumni, and Global Mission personnel such a worthwhile week. A week for which now, a month into my experience, I’m so grateful. I’d like to share a story of how one such piece of insight has slapped me on the face as I experienced its relevance this week in England.
There are a variety of misconceptions about mission work. We discussed many of these notions at orientation as a way to dissect what it is we are (and aren’t) doing this year as Young Adults in Global Mission. A misconception may be a missionary takes God with them to an area that doesn’t have God already.
Like- “Hello (different area of the world)!! America is here! Surprise!!! And look who I brought with me??…..Jesssuuuuus!!!” “Awe…..you…shouldn’t have…??”
Surely I was to pack a good pair of walking shoes…..some pictures…a durable coat…ranch dressing…..a bible……did I forget the big man upstairs??
Joking aside, the point of our discussion was to realize our aim is not to bring God with us; rather we are sent out to discover how God is already there and at work.
The congregation at St. Peter’s in London Colney did not need Marta the happy American missionary to bring Jesus. My experience attending worship this Sunday made that clearly evident.
Ya know that type of energy that keeps you anxiously excited while nervously inhabiting the pit of your stomach? That energy that creeps up before interviews, auditions, when getting lost, and when you know you’ve done something completely stupid and wrong that needs fixing…? I had that energy going to church on Sunday morning by myself? Am I dressed appropriately? Will they be able to peg me as an outsider? Would I be able to follow directions and actually find the church? Will my attempt at finding a happy Protestant counterpart to SPEC go awry?
Because this placement/community/country sometimes feels similar to home, those moments that remind me that I’m far from home sneak up and, well, produce that nervous “audition energy”.
Fortunately, I got to St. Peter’s early and had some time to survey my surroundings. There were happy over-involved church ladies in the back greeting me. (“Isn’t that speeecial??”) There were only a few others sitting in the 15-20 pews of the small congregation. There was an overly-welcoming and carefully designed and detailed bulletin. There were hymns I knew and loved. From there I can’t count how many times throughout that morning I thought to myself, “Awe….bless their hearts!!” (In true Sue Diehm fashion…thanks mom.) As 10am drew closer, in came the babies. Lots and lots of babies. I was a minority not because I was American but because I didn’t have a 0-3 yr. old on my hip. At about 9:55am, I looked down to my left and found a little toddler friend taking up occupancy next to me in the pew. She looked up at me with big beautiful blue eyes and I nearly teared up. Little sis proceeded to spit her pacifier onto the floor later picking it up to give to me. Before I could graciously grab it, her apologetic mother (who looked like Helen Hunt) came and whisked her away back to their pew a few rows back.
There service was lovingly and awesomely disheveled. Their female pastor doubles as an organist and the rest of the music is on a backing track controlled by a chap in the balcony. Babies crying and crawling and many other little incidents that made me giggle inside. The final anthem was Shine Jesus Shine; complete with a cheesy contemporary Christian backing track and a box of instruments for the children of the congregation to play. I had held back most of my tears throughout the service, but kids playing instruments is where I draw the line. I took it all in and happily cried as the 2 year old in front of me shook his upside down maraca with his chubby little fist.
As I witnessed a little baby named Ava being baptized; as I was invited to the Lord’s Supper for the first time since being here; as I was affectionately sought out after church by two women delighted to see a new SPEC face, it dawned on me. Beyond the ministry at SPEC, it was here at St. Peter’s that I discovered God already at work in the UK. Not because I’m equipped with more tools, wisdom, or faith than anyone I encounter this year. Not because of my own personal decisions or feelings in the pit of my stomach. Not because I brought God in a big ole package with a bow on top. But rather because he brought me here to discover, discern, learn, relate and love.
Another tidbit I will always remember from orientation strikes me as I reflect on St. Peter’s: “The will of God will never take you where the grace of God cannot protect you.” Thanks be to God for the love and grace I nervously stumbled upon at St. Peter’s on Sunday! I have been so enriched in so many ways this past month. I look forward to all the things God will continue to have in store for me during this Global Mission year and beyond.
There are a variety of misconceptions about mission work. We discussed many of these notions at orientation as a way to dissect what it is we are (and aren’t) doing this year as Young Adults in Global Mission. A misconception may be a missionary takes God with them to an area that doesn’t have God already.
Like- “Hello (different area of the world)!! America is here! Surprise!!! And look who I brought with me??…..Jesssuuuuus!!!” “Awe…..you…shouldn’t have…??”
Surely I was to pack a good pair of walking shoes…..some pictures…a durable coat…ranch dressing…..a bible……did I forget the big man upstairs??
Joking aside, the point of our discussion was to realize our aim is not to bring God with us; rather we are sent out to discover how God is already there and at work.
The congregation at St. Peter’s in London Colney did not need Marta the happy American missionary to bring Jesus. My experience attending worship this Sunday made that clearly evident.
Ya know that type of energy that keeps you anxiously excited while nervously inhabiting the pit of your stomach? That energy that creeps up before interviews, auditions, when getting lost, and when you know you’ve done something completely stupid and wrong that needs fixing…? I had that energy going to church on Sunday morning by myself? Am I dressed appropriately? Will they be able to peg me as an outsider? Would I be able to follow directions and actually find the church? Will my attempt at finding a happy Protestant counterpart to SPEC go awry?
Because this placement/community/country sometimes feels similar to home, those moments that remind me that I’m far from home sneak up and, well, produce that nervous “audition energy”.
Fortunately, I got to St. Peter’s early and had some time to survey my surroundings. There were happy over-involved church ladies in the back greeting me. (“Isn’t that speeecial??”) There were only a few others sitting in the 15-20 pews of the small congregation. There was an overly-welcoming and carefully designed and detailed bulletin. There were hymns I knew and loved. From there I can’t count how many times throughout that morning I thought to myself, “Awe….bless their hearts!!” (In true Sue Diehm fashion…thanks mom.) As 10am drew closer, in came the babies. Lots and lots of babies. I was a minority not because I was American but because I didn’t have a 0-3 yr. old on my hip. At about 9:55am, I looked down to my left and found a little toddler friend taking up occupancy next to me in the pew. She looked up at me with big beautiful blue eyes and I nearly teared up. Little sis proceeded to spit her pacifier onto the floor later picking it up to give to me. Before I could graciously grab it, her apologetic mother (who looked like Helen Hunt) came and whisked her away back to their pew a few rows back.
There service was lovingly and awesomely disheveled. Their female pastor doubles as an organist and the rest of the music is on a backing track controlled by a chap in the balcony. Babies crying and crawling and many other little incidents that made me giggle inside. The final anthem was Shine Jesus Shine; complete with a cheesy contemporary Christian backing track and a box of instruments for the children of the congregation to play. I had held back most of my tears throughout the service, but kids playing instruments is where I draw the line. I took it all in and happily cried as the 2 year old in front of me shook his upside down maraca with his chubby little fist.
As I witnessed a little baby named Ava being baptized; as I was invited to the Lord’s Supper for the first time since being here; as I was affectionately sought out after church by two women delighted to see a new SPEC face, it dawned on me. Beyond the ministry at SPEC, it was here at St. Peter’s that I discovered God already at work in the UK. Not because I’m equipped with more tools, wisdom, or faith than anyone I encounter this year. Not because of my own personal decisions or feelings in the pit of my stomach. Not because I brought God in a big ole package with a bow on top. But rather because he brought me here to discover, discern, learn, relate and love.
Another tidbit I will always remember from orientation strikes me as I reflect on St. Peter’s: “The will of God will never take you where the grace of God cannot protect you.” Thanks be to God for the love and grace I nervously stumbled upon at St. Peter’s on Sunday! I have been so enriched in so many ways this past month. I look forward to all the things God will continue to have in store for me during this Global Mission year and beyond.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
a very long week..
I think the title of this blog pretty much sums it up; this past week of work just seemed really long. Thanks to Labor Day the previous week, this was actually my first 40-hour week at Common Ground so it really was longer than what I was used to. At the same time, however, this week's feeling of endlessness had nothing to do with the number of hours I worked and everything to do with the fact that I actually started doing all of the things I'll be doing this year.
Coming into the program, I knew that my work would be intense. I'm working in an HIV center so many of our clients are HIV positive and/or have Hepatitis C and/or are injection drug users, etc. For me, in particular, I work with mostly homeless youth and young adults. Many of my clients are into hard drugs, some have kids, and a lot of them are kind of on the run from the police due to some minor infraction that turned into something much greater.
My week started off busily but still pretty low key. Because we receive a lot of government funding, we have to put records of every test we do into a state database (HIRS). Each test record includes basic client info (name, DOB, zip code, race/ethnicity, etc), the info from the lab slip (when the test was done, time it was done, temperature in the room, lot number, expiration date, etc), and then one or two forms that detail a client's sexual behavior, substance use, and STD history. Unfortunately, HIRS has been down since the beginning of July for some system changes and so no one in the office has been able to enter records for two and a half months. This week, however, we were once again able to put in records so we were trained on how to do that and given stacks of files to enter. It's not a bad job, though since I'm still new to it, it can be time consuming. Depending on how much information is in a particular record, it can take anywhere from 5-10 minutes to as much as 20 minutes. Sometimes clients don't fill things out completely correctly or HIRS still has some glitches, so I've had a couple of files take as much as 30 minutes to enter. Imagine doing that for two and a half months worth of files... Luckily, with a few of us working on it, we were able to get all the way through the July files this week and started on the August files.
Learning HIRS was actually really good because it gave me something to do (I probably spent 10+ hours this week on HIRS records), but it was the easy part of the week. One of the cool things about Common Ground is that we have several remote testing sites which include a high school and a drug/alcohol treatment center; this, in turn, allows us to reach a much larger population. Since I am the youth specialist in our prevention department, I will be in charge of the remote testing at Santa Monica High School (Samohi). So, on Thursday mornings for the next nine months or so, I will be doing HIV tests for Samohi students. I did not, however, know I would be doing this. Until this part Thursday, I hadn't even done an actual test but had just observed one of our more experienced counselors. So, I was taken over to Samohi on Thursday morning and given a room in which to test and then I was on my own. I was told it would probably be slow because it was the beginning of the year and that I probably should have brought a book. Well, that was completely incorrect. I actually ended up doing three tests! My first three tests. Ever.
I think the idea of testing at Samohi is GREAT. It makes the service so accessible to students who otherwise might not have the courage to go to a different, more public, testing center. In practice, however, it was a REALLY tough way to start my career in testing. The hardest part of testing at Samohi, at least for me, was that the kids are so young! I try to stay away from calling people kids because a lot of people find it kind of demeaning (plus, I'm only 22 and barely an adult myself), but that's really all these people were. Just kids. They were in kindergarten when 9/11 happened. They were toddlers when NSYNC and BSB broke onto the music scene.
It was so hard to sit in a room talking about sex, STDs, and HIV with these kids. The first test I did was for a girl who was so obviously scared and, although we talked for a while about her situation, there was little I could do to assuage her fears. I think that is when it really hit me how intense this year is going to be. It was a frustrating day and, to be perfectly honest, I'm still working on processing that experience.
Friday was another tough day; my co-worker who is in charge of our evening drop-in times was out sick so I had to lead drop-in by myself! I was so stressed about it all day. It ended up going fairly well, but it was still really hard because I haven't been there long enough to feel like a strong authority figure and so, had there been any big problems, I wouldn't have had a clue how to handle it.
Despite it being a really rough week, I do like my job. Even though testing at Samohi was really tough, it was also a really good experience because I felt like I could really help the kids over there because they're young and uninformed. They seemed more receptive to information than some older clients. And even though drop-in was tough, I know I can do it.
Sorry this is kind of ending abruptly, but I need to get some stuff done and get some sleep before the new weeks starts!
Peace,
Jordan
Coming into the program, I knew that my work would be intense. I'm working in an HIV center so many of our clients are HIV positive and/or have Hepatitis C and/or are injection drug users, etc. For me, in particular, I work with mostly homeless youth and young adults. Many of my clients are into hard drugs, some have kids, and a lot of them are kind of on the run from the police due to some minor infraction that turned into something much greater.
My week started off busily but still pretty low key. Because we receive a lot of government funding, we have to put records of every test we do into a state database (HIRS). Each test record includes basic client info (name, DOB, zip code, race/ethnicity, etc), the info from the lab slip (when the test was done, time it was done, temperature in the room, lot number, expiration date, etc), and then one or two forms that detail a client's sexual behavior, substance use, and STD history. Unfortunately, HIRS has been down since the beginning of July for some system changes and so no one in the office has been able to enter records for two and a half months. This week, however, we were once again able to put in records so we were trained on how to do that and given stacks of files to enter. It's not a bad job, though since I'm still new to it, it can be time consuming. Depending on how much information is in a particular record, it can take anywhere from 5-10 minutes to as much as 20 minutes. Sometimes clients don't fill things out completely correctly or HIRS still has some glitches, so I've had a couple of files take as much as 30 minutes to enter. Imagine doing that for two and a half months worth of files... Luckily, with a few of us working on it, we were able to get all the way through the July files this week and started on the August files.
Learning HIRS was actually really good because it gave me something to do (I probably spent 10+ hours this week on HIRS records), but it was the easy part of the week. One of the cool things about Common Ground is that we have several remote testing sites which include a high school and a drug/alcohol treatment center; this, in turn, allows us to reach a much larger population. Since I am the youth specialist in our prevention department, I will be in charge of the remote testing at Santa Monica High School (Samohi). So, on Thursday mornings for the next nine months or so, I will be doing HIV tests for Samohi students. I did not, however, know I would be doing this. Until this part Thursday, I hadn't even done an actual test but had just observed one of our more experienced counselors. So, I was taken over to Samohi on Thursday morning and given a room in which to test and then I was on my own. I was told it would probably be slow because it was the beginning of the year and that I probably should have brought a book. Well, that was completely incorrect. I actually ended up doing three tests! My first three tests. Ever.
I think the idea of testing at Samohi is GREAT. It makes the service so accessible to students who otherwise might not have the courage to go to a different, more public, testing center. In practice, however, it was a REALLY tough way to start my career in testing. The hardest part of testing at Samohi, at least for me, was that the kids are so young! I try to stay away from calling people kids because a lot of people find it kind of demeaning (plus, I'm only 22 and barely an adult myself), but that's really all these people were. Just kids. They were in kindergarten when 9/11 happened. They were toddlers when NSYNC and BSB broke onto the music scene.
It was so hard to sit in a room talking about sex, STDs, and HIV with these kids. The first test I did was for a girl who was so obviously scared and, although we talked for a while about her situation, there was little I could do to assuage her fears. I think that is when it really hit me how intense this year is going to be. It was a frustrating day and, to be perfectly honest, I'm still working on processing that experience.
Friday was another tough day; my co-worker who is in charge of our evening drop-in times was out sick so I had to lead drop-in by myself! I was so stressed about it all day. It ended up going fairly well, but it was still really hard because I haven't been there long enough to feel like a strong authority figure and so, had there been any big problems, I wouldn't have had a clue how to handle it.
Despite it being a really rough week, I do like my job. Even though testing at Samohi was really tough, it was also a really good experience because I felt like I could really help the kids over there because they're young and uninformed. They seemed more receptive to information than some older clients. And even though drop-in was tough, I know I can do it.
Sorry this is kind of ending abruptly, but I need to get some stuff done and get some sleep before the new weeks starts!
Peace,
Jordan
Sunday, September 13, 2009
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, Hollywood
I know I just posted last night, but I wanted to take a minute to write about how much I love our new church!
One of the great things about EUIP is that we actually live at a church and so we're very closely linked with a spiritual community. We occupy the upstairs of the parish house on the campus of St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Hollywood. Downstairs is the main church office as well as a preschool by day. St. Stephen's has two preschools on campus (one Head State preschool and a fine arts pre-school) and also has a theater company on campus, called Write Act. Overall, it's just a really great place to be.
Today after church, there was an informal ministry fair where we all sat around and talked about the different ministries of the church and how to get involved. There are a lot of different ministries at St. Stephen's, from the ride ministry (giving elderly people a lift to church) to altar guild (setting up for the service). I'm hoping to get involved in a couple of different ministries: baking communion bread and working in the community garden we're trying to start. I think some of my roommates are going to be working with the Sunday School and youth group ministries. There really is something for everyone.
The really awesome thing I want to highlight, though, is that nearly 100 percent of St. Stephen's parishioners are involved in at least one of the different ministries (and many are involved in more than one)! I've seen plenty of churches where most people just go to a service once a week but contribute very little else to the life of the church. Especially in small churches with tiny budgets, parishioners are needed to help out with different things, plus it really helps build a strong church community. I'm really looking forward to my involvement with St. Stephen's this year; it's so refreshing to be a part of such a thriving, giving church community!
One of the great things about EUIP is that we actually live at a church and so we're very closely linked with a spiritual community. We occupy the upstairs of the parish house on the campus of St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Hollywood. Downstairs is the main church office as well as a preschool by day. St. Stephen's has two preschools on campus (one Head State preschool and a fine arts pre-school) and also has a theater company on campus, called Write Act. Overall, it's just a really great place to be.
Today after church, there was an informal ministry fair where we all sat around and talked about the different ministries of the church and how to get involved. There are a lot of different ministries at St. Stephen's, from the ride ministry (giving elderly people a lift to church) to altar guild (setting up for the service). I'm hoping to get involved in a couple of different ministries: baking communion bread and working in the community garden we're trying to start. I think some of my roommates are going to be working with the Sunday School and youth group ministries. There really is something for everyone.
The really awesome thing I want to highlight, though, is that nearly 100 percent of St. Stephen's parishioners are involved in at least one of the different ministries (and many are involved in more than one)! I've seen plenty of churches where most people just go to a service once a week but contribute very little else to the life of the church. Especially in small churches with tiny budgets, parishioners are needed to help out with different things, plus it really helps build a strong church community. I'm really looking forward to my involvement with St. Stephen's this year; it's so refreshing to be a part of such a thriving, giving church community!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
emotional tourism
I've felt like a tourist a lot lately. Moving to a new place always leaves me feeling like that for a little while, and in a city like Los Angeles (particularly where we live in Hollywood) where there actually are tons of tourists all the time, it's really easy to get caught up in it. But I've now been in the city for a few weeks and while I'll admit that a few weeks isn't an extremely long period of time, it's actually starting to feel like I'm an Angeleno and not just a tourist. I've figured out the subway, used the bus, and driven not only through LA but on the freeways around the city. I've found grocery stores and thrift stores, a couple of bars I'll probably frequent, and a few other hangouts.
I was so happy when I realized I no longer felt so much like a tourist (I still feel that way a little, but the feeling is going away a bit every day...), but this week I've experienced feelings relating to tourism again, but this time I feel like an emotional tourist. My housemate Adam, who also works with me, used this phrase the other day and I think it really fits what I'm feeling in regard to my job right now.
To begin, let me say that I really do like my job. The people are great and I can see already that Common Ground provides so many great services. One of the main parts of my job is working with the Homeless Youth Peer Education program (HYPE). HYPE is three evenings a week; Common Ground stays open and we provide food, a place to hang out, clothing, counseling, needle exchange, internet access, and various other services. As great as Common Ground and HYPE are, however, I feel like an emotional tourist. So many of the clients, particularly with HYPE, are people who come in all the time for services. They've built relationships with the other people who work there but so far, I'm just an outsider. I don't know them and I don't know there stories. It will take time to build rapport and strong relationships. In the meanwhile, I kind of feel like I don't belong. Like a tourist going to a new place, I can really enjoy my time at Common Ground and learn a lot, but for a while I'm just a tourist.
It's a strange period of transition. I really love what I'm doing and I look forward to the day that I feel like I've built really solid relationships with my clients the way many of my co-workers have. I've now worked three evenings at HYPE and it gets easier every shift. I'm sure that soon I'll stop being an emotional tourist; like with going to a new place, it's all about stepping out of your comfort zone.
Other than feeling like an emotional tourist, I'm totally loving my job. I've been doing a lot of needle exchanges and observed my first HIV test/counseling session. After a few more observations, I'll be out on my own. I'm realizing already that this is going to be an intense year, but I have a supportive staff at work, great roommates, and excellent family and friends (even if they are scattered around the world).
Peace,
Jordan
I was so happy when I realized I no longer felt so much like a tourist (I still feel that way a little, but the feeling is going away a bit every day...), but this week I've experienced feelings relating to tourism again, but this time I feel like an emotional tourist. My housemate Adam, who also works with me, used this phrase the other day and I think it really fits what I'm feeling in regard to my job right now.
To begin, let me say that I really do like my job. The people are great and I can see already that Common Ground provides so many great services. One of the main parts of my job is working with the Homeless Youth Peer Education program (HYPE). HYPE is three evenings a week; Common Ground stays open and we provide food, a place to hang out, clothing, counseling, needle exchange, internet access, and various other services. As great as Common Ground and HYPE are, however, I feel like an emotional tourist. So many of the clients, particularly with HYPE, are people who come in all the time for services. They've built relationships with the other people who work there but so far, I'm just an outsider. I don't know them and I don't know there stories. It will take time to build rapport and strong relationships. In the meanwhile, I kind of feel like I don't belong. Like a tourist going to a new place, I can really enjoy my time at Common Ground and learn a lot, but for a while I'm just a tourist.
It's a strange period of transition. I really love what I'm doing and I look forward to the day that I feel like I've built really solid relationships with my clients the way many of my co-workers have. I've now worked three evenings at HYPE and it gets easier every shift. I'm sure that soon I'll stop being an emotional tourist; like with going to a new place, it's all about stepping out of your comfort zone.
Other than feeling like an emotional tourist, I'm totally loving my job. I've been doing a lot of needle exchanges and observed my first HIV test/counseling session. After a few more observations, I'll be out on my own. I'm realizing already that this is going to be an intense year, but I have a supportive staff at work, great roommates, and excellent family and friends (even if they are scattered around the world).
Peace,
Jordan
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