SortaCrunchy

Closing Thoughts on Community and a Community of Service

I guess I'll go ahead and start by breaking a cardinal blogging rule by explaining my absence. 

A few weeks ago, Elizabeth Esther - one of my favorite writers and sister ENFP - tweeted something about how our personality type needs days that are "out to pasture."  That's pretty accurate.  I've taken a week or so out to pasture, I suppose.  Of all of the extraverts, ENFPs are the ones who need the most recovery time following engagement with people, places, and things.  I don't know why that is, it just is.  As obligations, responsibilities, and activities have picked up in the 3D world, I've found I have little left for the keyboard.

I offer my most sincere apologies, especially for those who have been faithfully following along in the 40 Days of Community.  I just . . . you know.

* * * * *

This final week of focus in the 40 Days of Community examines a community of service.

I've given a lot of thought to this because, really, this what all of these aspects of community come down to in one way or another.  Offering ourselves, our time, our lives, in service to others.

This kind of service to community goes far beyond becoming a member of a local service group or signing up for a service-oriented committee at church.  This is a lifestyle.

And let's be honest - it can be exhausting.

I want to turn to the words of someone whom I've grown to admire in a way that is unapologetic fan girl: Jen Hatmaker.  In her book Interrupted: An Adventure in Relearning the Essentials of Faith, she digs into some thoughts about Communion and what that looks like lived out.

She looks at Luke 22:13-16 and writes:

Jesus was seriously making a point with His statement in verse 15.  In Greek, He literally said, "I have desired with desire to eat this Passover with you."  Jesus was underscoring His great anticipation for this moment.  He had been waiting, and this was it.  This was monumental.  He would become living theology to change the course of history.  It was time to make old things brand spanking new.

In telling the disciples "This is My body. This is My blood," Jesus began to paint a clear picture of what it would take to follow after Him.  Jen writes, "Jesus didn't just host and serve the meal; He became the meal."  He would be broken for us, poured out for us, our redemption and our sanctification.

A moment later, He instructed His disciples to "do this in remembrance of me," making sure to use the present tense of the verb do.  Keep on doing this. 

So, wait.  What?  Keep on observing the Lord's Supper/Communion in remembrance of Him?

Well, yes.  But more. 

Jen points out that the Greek word for remembrance here is anamnesis - to make real.  She writes, "Remembrance means honoring Jesus's mercy mission with tangible, physical action since it was a tangible, physical sacrifice.  In other words, 'Constantly make this real.'"

I want for you to stop and think about that.  Does that kind of blow your mind?  This messes me up hugely.

There's more, and this is where it speaks to the idea of a community of service. 

For those moments when you have given and served and poured out and are just absolutely drained, consider this from Jen as an explanation that encourages us to know that is when we are truly partnering with Christ:

Not only was Communion a symbolic ritual, but it was a new prototype of discipleship.  "Continuously make my sacrifice real by doing this very thing." But what? What was the very thing Jesus was doing?  He was becoming broken and poured out for hopeless people.  He was becoming a living offering, denying Himself for the salvation and restoration of humanity . . . We don't simply remember the meal; we become the meal, too.

Remember how the Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians that "Now you are the body of Christ"?

Are the pieces fitting together yet?

THIS IS HUGE.  Jen brings it home:

Why is it so exhausting to uphold someone's heavy, inconvenient burden?  Why are you so spent from shouldering someone's grief or being an armor-bearer?  What is it that lifting someone out of his or her rubble leaves you breathless?  Because you are part of the body of Christ, broken and poured out, just like He was.  Mercy has a cost: Someone must be broken for someone else to be fed.

Paul wrote to Galatia (you know, the ones a little preoccupied with The Law): "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (6:2)  What did Jesus consider the most important of The Law?  Love God, love others.  And this is how: be willing to be broken, allow yourself to be poured out.

This, my sweet friends, this is the risk of community.  This is why it's easier to portion out our time, to compartmentalize our lives so that we give of ourselves in bits and pieces.

But it's in the whole-self giving that we experience true communion with Christ.  This is what it is to die to self and allow Christ to live through us.  This is what it is to know that we must be grafted to The Vine in order to be sustained from day-to-day.

Does your heart just explode to know that on the days when serving your family has nearly done you in that you can know you have been making Communion real that day?  And what about the tireless investment you have made in the life of a friend or neighbor - isn't it incredible to know that you are nourishing them with your brokenness? 

Reading this insight from Jen ignited the transforming work of Christ within me.  Does it still hurt to become the meal?  Absolutely.  But in the crushing, I know He is being made real in me.  That is a mystery far too complex to explain and far too wonderful to resist.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this: Who in your life has been broken or poured out that you might know Christ?  Who are you being broken for right now?  What is service costing you?  How are you experience Christ in the midst of the muddy work of community?

Slipping Off Our Shoes and Into a Community of Compassion

We're approaching the end of the 40 Days of Community, and our focus this week is closely linked to last week's justice theme.  This week we'll examine the idea of compassion.

While our discussions on justice examined how we do justice, compassion is more technically a feeling word: the feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who has experienced great misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering. *

So the image this word conjures is wonderfully two-fold - sitting alongside with sorrow and sympathy while being motivated to do something to comfort the person and/or correct the situation.

The Bible is full of scripture that speaks to the idea of compassion, but the scene that comes to my mind is the one of the woman caught in adultery who is brought before Jesus.  To me, His response is the embodiment of compassion.  We imagine that surely she must have been cowering, desperate to hide her nakedness before the group of men who circled her, preparing to stone her.  He kneels down, there in the dirt next to her, becoming an advocate for her there in the dust.  His feelings of compassion for her caused Him to act as advocate, challenging the circumstance created to destroy her.

Sometimes compassion is a call to sit down next to one who is hurting.  Compassion compels us to listen, to comfort, to be.  Sometimes that is all that is needed.  We take off our shoes and take the risk of slipping on someone else's.  Let's be frank: giving of ourselves in this way can be smelly and uncomfortable - it squeezes tight on our hearts and minds.  Just because there is no action involved doesn't mean this is the easy part of compassion.

And then there are the moments when compassion urges action.  This is where we slip off our shoes and walk alongside barefoot in solidarity.  This is where we compassion reaches out to hold hands with justice.  Compassion acts in ways to either comfort the hurting or to work towards alleviating the hurt, and the possibilities are endless when we start thinking of ways we can take on that posture of advocate and dirty our hands and feet: 

This is the work of Compassion International, International Justice Mission, World Vision, and many, many other organizations.

This is the work of serving where the needy gather and needs are met.

This is the work of CASA.

This is organzing meals for a new mama (and cleaning her house and taking her laundry away and returning it clean and neatly folded).

This is creating an event that meets the needs of single moms - needs that might include car care, babysitting, or mom's night out.

This is TOMS and One Day Without Shoes.

When I first read about ODWS, I was moved once again my TOMS' commitment to putting shoes on the feet of those who so desperately around the world.  And because of how much I've been involved in and thinking about community lately, I kind of came up with my own spin on ODWS that combines the compassionate work of putting shoes on kids who need them with enjoying community together.

Tomorrow evening, after I (and many of you!) have gone barefoot all day, some of us are gathering at a local park for a Barefoot Picnic.  We'll occupy picnic tables and spread blankets and collect shoes for little feet.  Those bringing shoes can decide if they want to donate locally or to The Grace Center Foundation in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia.  The Grace Center Foundation is devoted to working with women and children in Ethiopia through offering day care, after school tutoring, food and medical programs, and job training.  They also provide a home for abandoned and orphaned children and offer sponsorships of these children.

When I asked the ladies of The Grace Center if shoes were a need there, they responded definitely.  Shoes available locally are often not well-made and don't last long.  It's expensive to have better ones shipped over, but as it just so happens, one of the ladies who works at The Grace Center is in the U.S. this month.  She told me that any shoes we can collect - "one pair or 10 pairs or 600 pairs" - could make the trip back to Ethiopia with her at the end of April.

So that's what we're doing - taking off our shoes for an evening and hoping to make a small difference in the lives of children around us and around the world.  And day after day after day, if your heart is tuned in, you'll hear and see a myraid of ways to engage in compassion in ways little and big. 

I would so love to hear from you - what does the world compassion look like lived out in your life?  What examples can you share of compassion in action?

photo by Marco Raaphorst

Senator Coburn, I know it was you. You broke my heart. (and opened my eyes)

photo by smoorenburg

In my younger and more vulnerable years*, I was led to believe that as a dual citizen of heaven and America, I had the right - nay, the responsibility - to elect brother and sisters of the faith to our highest offices in Washington D.C., so that they might represent the heart and voice of Christians everywhere in the hallowed halls of government.

And then I grew up.

And when I had grown up a little more, I made the choice to kiss (partisan) politics goodbye.

But I still knew that I had freedom to render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's.

(PS - everything belongs to God.)

And so though I had grown a little more jaded and a little less invested in our nation's politics, I hadn't bailed on the system entirely.  Less than one hundred years ago, women who had gone before me were working hard, giving their all for the women's suffrage movement. Part of me feels like I owe it to them to at least vote and be nominally involved in the activities of government.

So last November, when I received an email from the ACT:S wing of World Vision imploring Oklahomans specifically to reach out to Senator Tom Coburn, asking him to give his support to the Child Protection Compact Act, I sprang into action. 

The CPCA was introduced in the House and later taken up by the Senate with the aim of coming alongside countries where 1) child trafficking is a significant issue and 2) the governments of these countries have shown interest in putting a stop to trafficking within their borders.  The Act would have not only worked to stop child trafficking in these countries receiving U.S. aid, but would have also increased monetary support for care and restoration of the victims of trafficking.  It was rolling towards unanimous approval in the Senate except for . . . two hold-outs: Senator Jim DeMint of South Carolina and Senator Tom Coburn of Oklahoma.

And so, um, have we met?  I have this heart for children trapped in the horrors of trafficking.  A heart that breaks and bleeds and sobs for these precious ones.  You better believe I jumped on this.

I called the offices of both of our Senators.  And then I sent Facebook messages to many of my friends in Oklahoma, filling them in and asking them to call Senator Coburn as well.  And then I wrote him an impassioned, heart-felt letter, pleading with him to give support to the CPCA. 

I acknowledged that he was a fiscal conservative who takes seriously his responsibility in giving his vote to how our nation's money is spent, but I appealed to him as a brother in Christ, as a man known throughout our state and in Washington as a die-hard pro-life Senator, to please please consider the lives of these little ones in countries around the world, countries who have not been as blessed as we are but who want to step in and put a stop to the atrocities done against the children living there. 

I pulled out all the stops, y'all, even citing passages of Scripture that speak to Christ's call to set free the captives and stand up against injustice.

Believe it or not, I've written to Senator Coburn more than once.  More than twice, even.  Each time, in the weeks that followed me writing him, I've heard back from him - or from his office anyway.  This time, I heard nothing back from him.

You can imagine, then, how I felt when I received this update from ACT:S.  Essentially, at the last minute both Senators DeMint and Coburn pulled their support of the bill because the bill's sponsors (Senators Boxer and Brownback) were unable to free up funds from other programs to pay for it.

As I read, I felt angry.  Tears-in-my eyes angry.  Defeated.  Embarrassed.  Heartbroken.

But then, I had this moment of clarity.

In that moment of feeling betrayed, not by some random civil servant, but by a man who follows the same Way I follow, I realized that the men and women we send to Washington go there to do the work of the Empire, not the work of the Kingdom.

And though this is a realization many of you have probably long since come to, it was somehow a little bit of an epiphany for me.  It confirmed for me in a very concrete way what I had been waking up to - the New Testament scripture's near silence on earthly government should speak louder than any Moral Majority ever could.  It has not ever been, nor will it ever be, God's plan for the Empires of the Earth to do the work of liberation, of protection, of healing, and of restoration.

It's us.  It has always been us.

Sisters and brothers, we have got to stop fighting over social justice (Matt at The Church of No People examines the battle lines accurately in Honk If You Hate Social Justice).  In the same way that arguing and debating over Empire politics keeps us distracted from the Great Commission, the discourse on what social justice is and what our role in it should be is a time suck that we can't afford to indulge in.

That's what I loved most about what Amber wrote this week about justice - it's Kingdom justice we are called to.  Living as hands and feet of Christ - there is absolutely no argument that can stand against that.  And as Amber spoke to, it looks different for every single member of The Body.  You do what you do where your feet are, you act on the passion and hurts in your heart.  Most importantly, you do not rely on government and the Empire to take up the work entrusted to us by God.

What if we who follow The Way lived like there were no social safety nets for those around us?  I mean, what would that even look like?  What if we who follow after Christ lived as if the government couldn't be trusted to do care for those around us and people who are hurting and in need around the world?

Would it be messy?  Painful?  Exhausting?  Would it require tremendous sacrifice on an individual level?

Probably.

Would it be more efficient, more effective, than passing the burden along to the already over-burdened Empire systems in place?

You tell me.

* yes, I totally ripped of Fitzgerald with that opening line. I can't help myself. April is Gatsby to me.

Who We Love and How We Live: A Community of Justice

As we move into week four of 40 Days of Community, we're focusing on what it means to be a community of justice.  I invited Amber Robinson, author of Mercy Rising: Simple Ways to Practice Justice and Compassion, to share some thoughts on what justice is and how we can seek to live justly.  In addition to taking the time to speak to us on the topic today, Amber has a special gift for some SortaCrunchy readers . . .

When it comes to hard things, I am a reforming coward. I will not see Hotel Rwanda, no matter how many friends insist. The one time I gave in to a similar movie (a decade ago) I found myself violently crying in the theater bathroom stalls and forced myself to walk back in long enough to retrieve my husband. I won’t watch video clips replaying tsunamis, earthquakes, or the like.

The irony is that I speak up for vulnerable children with Compassion International, help educate others to spot signs of trafficking in their own cities, and find peace in my backyard organic garden. Seems unlikely. When people have told me they themselves can’t be involved in justice issues –“It must be your thing”- I don’t believe them.  Anyone can walk justly. I have learned the secret that in the most unlikely of places there is hope, joy, light, and real community.

WHO NEEDS JUSTICE?

Who needs justice? They seem invisible because the voices of the marginalized are often silent. Take a look at this list. There are many groups of people that need our help here and overseas.

You probably already help in some of these areas. Do you donate to a local food pantry? Do you participate in special giving during holidays? Do you buy local produce or fair trade items? You are living justice every day. But there is so much work we still need to do.

WHY IS JUSTICE IMPORTANT?

What is the big deal after all?

When I hear my friend Jo’s name, her face comes to my mind. What rushes into my spirit at lightning speed are her attributes: fun, joyful, and thoughtful. In fact it is not easy to separate those inner qualities from my perception of her.

In the same way God has many attributes. God often seems far away because I cannot see his face, but I can know his attributes: holiness, love, mercy, grace, and truth. Sometimes it’s hard to remember to put justice in that list.

We speak with our lips what’s on our hearts. Jo speaks most about family, friends, spiritual topics, and photography. Anyone who is around her knows that these things are important to her. When God speaks to us through his word, it seems fair to say that he speaks about what matters to him.

How many times in scripture do you think justice issues are mentioned?

Ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times? Tony Hall, former U.S. Ambassador for humanitarian issues, says there are over 2,500 verses in the Bible on justice issues!

Not only is justice a part of God’s character, it is a central issue repeated over 2,500 times. If justice is a key attribute of the God we serve, it needs to be a key attribute of his servants. Is it rare to hear these issues spoken about in mainstream Christian circles?  In everyday conversations with friends and family? Why is that?  Maybe it’s the connotation of the word “justice.” Sometimes when I say “justice” people hear “fanatical socialism.” Many people probably think of “social justice” in this context.

SOCIAL JUSTICE OR KINGDOM JUSTICE?

What is social justice? Social justice is “the distribution of advantages and disadvantages within a society.”(Websters New Millennium Dictionary of English) Others have told me social justice brings up images of government-run programs such as unemployment, welfare, and social security. I’m interested in a different society, a different kingdom. An upside-down kingdom. Where families and neighborhoods and faith groups do small things to enact change.

Society says to fight and claw your way to the top.

Kingdom justice says “The last shall be first.”

Society says to take care of yourself and your family first. If you have anything left, you can give that away.

Kingdom justice seeks first God’s agenda and then trusts that all the other stuff will work out.

Society glorifies the wealthy, the brilliant, the famous, the well-bred. Use those connections to win.

Kingdom justice humbles itself to aid those who are oppressed.

Social justice follows the whims of a fickle crowd.

Kingdom justice is an age-old wisdom, never changing, ever-constant, until one day when the Author of Justice returns and every wrong will be righted.

In my justice journey I have met “important people” changing their world as the heads of major non-profit organizations. Many of them are my heroes. But my greatest inspiration includes women like Angelina who impacts childhood nutrition when she sends her breast milk overseas with IBMP. Stephanie who feeds the hungry and brings the world home when she plays FreeRice and Quest for Compassion with her kids. Amy who ends her role in the domestic slave trade when she checks out companies at Chain Store Reaction. And Sara who offers hope to a pregnant teen neighbor in the shape of a baby swing.

We don’t need to join a committee. We don’t need to leave our family and friends and do it on our own. It is messy-it hurts. We grow and cry and learn to love. Not for what we can get or give, but to walk through fear into life and joy.

Parts of this article are excerpted from Amber's book Mercy Rising .  Three SortaCrunchy readers will win an e-copy of Mercy Rising, thanks to Amber's generosity and thoughtfulness!  To be eligible to win, simply share your response to this question:

What are some ways you see people working toward justice in your community, and how have you/will you contribute to the movement of those seeking to work towards justice?

COMMENTS CLOSED: Winners of the e-book are commenters 7, 9, and 14 - Amy Sullivan, danielle, and and Tamara.  Thanks, everyone!

photo by Abi Skipp

Deep and Wide

Into this beautiful community, today I'm welcoming another voice - a guest post from Hyacynth from Undercover Mother:

It’s a rainy Sunday morning, and we’re splashing through puddles while trying to dodge fat drops of rain.

We’re late, per normal, which is seemingly part of life with two small boys.

As we rush into the church building, we quickly greet those standing in the foyer before hurriedly dropping off the kids in their Sunday School classrooms; we then scurry into the sanctuary, where we take our seats, two in a sea of hundreds of faces.

The service lures my soul into rest, fills me with passion for such a wonderful Maker.

But there’s a deep longing resounding in my heart after the service ends – one that desires to remain in communion with Him through being in communion with His people, be a part of the Body … because the body part I feel we most closely resemble these days are feet, quickly ushering us toward the kids’ classes and then out the front doors of the building, so as to drive two hungry, tired children home.

****
Small talk has been flooding my conversations more pervasively during the past year.

I wonder how I’ve gotten sucked into constant stream of casual communication revolving around the weather or the rising price of {gas} {milk} {meat}.

How I’ve found myself only sharing the doing "good" and the "fine" and "all right" of life while brushing past others as we run through the doors of preschool pick up and Bible Study, both places I have to rush in and out of to make it on time to the other.

I often leave these places emptier than when I first entered -- scattering little pieces of my life into the vast expanse of the communities in which I wade.

Somehow, I've noticed my schedule has grown increasingly more crowded. And as good friends have moved away or become too busy for meeting, I’ve less and less been treading water with other women as we navigate the deep blues of motherhood and marriage, neighborhood mission fields and the hearts God has been shaping and molding inside our very chests.

And more and more, I’ve been wading in the shallow waters, clinging to the shoreline, anchored by busyness and by a deep fear of going out too deep into the swell of another’s heart again.

****
Jesus lived his life rooted deeply in communion.

Communion with God.

And communion with people.

He was often surrounded by faces, thousands even, during His ministry.

And He knew each by name.

It amazes me how he had such a way of knowing each person personally, how He knew what each heart needed.

He was immersed in community while here on Earth, wading in the wide waters, traveling from town to town, synagogue to synagogue, home to home.

But he didn’t just stop and pace back and forth in the width of the tides.

He honed 77 hearts, and He sent them out to proclaim the good news.

He handpicked 12 disciples, men He would teach, really listen to and break bread with daily.

He wove his heartstrings into those of three then, even inviting them into His anguish and asking them to take His deepest requests to the feet of the Father.

And then there was one – the disciple whom Jesus loved, perhaps His best friend.

I sift through the layers, peeling them back and examining my life against His, viewing Jesus’ life
within the lens of community.

God in the flesh, the maker and creator of the very human heart beating in my chest, sought to dive into the depths of other people’s souls and allowed His friends to swim in His own.

And He didn’t have to – He could have found completion within the triune of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

I ask myself why. Why then did He do it? Why did He dive into the murky depths of his friends’ hearts, opening Himself to be wounded by their weaknesses {the Garden of Gethsemane} and their wayward spirits {Peter’s denial, Judas’ betrayal}?

To minister to their hearts, seems to be the text book answer.

But digging deeper, we must see there’s more to the story.

He did it to show us how to walk with each other, how to commune with each other, how to live our lives so that our stories interweave and build chapters within his epic story.

Those numbers – the 5,000, the 77, the 12, the three, the one – aren’t given to us as random detail.  Those numbers symbolize much more.

The Church. A church. A small group. A circle of confidants. A soul-deep friendship.

We were made for community.

****
Lately, all I’ve been doing is showing up.

Granted, presence is a vital part of community.

But.

I’ve been learning that showing up means more than just being physically present – sitting in the pews of church services or filling a chair in a Bible study.

Showing up means being there mentally and emotionally, really entering into these moments when we’re surrounded by the other souls who are walking the hallways of our churches or the paths at the park or settling in the seats at social functions.

I’m learning to take Jesus’ ways with people to heart – the really listening, the really personalizing, the really seeing people where they are and where He would have them go.

In those realizations, I’ve had to wrestle with unhitching myself from the anchors of busyness and fear, the very things that are keeping me bound to wading in the shallow waters of community within a circle or small group.

And I keep coming back to one thing: I must clothe myself with Jesus before venturing into those deeper waters.

It’s only when He is the encompassing life jacket that I can unhook myself from the other ties and safely swim in the uncertain waves, the murky blues and the immeasurable depths of another’s heart.

And, because of such, He means for us to go deep as well as wide.

Read more from Hyacynth at Undercover Mother: A long-term assignment in the jungle of motherhood. 

photo credit: Alita Jewels Treasures

 

40 Days of Community: Weekly Fellowship (and more thoughts on Green Like God)

Lord, mold us and form us into the kind of people you want us to be. Be patient with us when we fall short of what love demands of us. And give us patience with ourselves. Catch us in the arms of your grace. Amen.

That prayer is from today's Morning Prayer in the Common Prayer reading.  It spoke directly to my heart today as I am all too aware of how I fall short of what love demands of me and my need to be caught up in the arms of grace.

The arms of His grace, and the arms of your grace as well.

As I wrote last week, I really didn't know when I began this journey through Lent with a focus on community how mighty and unstoppable the pull to community would become in my life.  It's not unlike a vortex that keeps pulling me in, away from my computer, and out out out into places my feet take me.

I've only been able to publish about 25% of what I had planned and hoped to share so far in this 40 Day journey.  And I know that none of you are waiting with baited breath for a new post to pop up, but I still feel bad that this isn't playing out the way I had envisioned.  In the meantime, other visions are moving from the world of specter to flesh, and much is still in the process of taking shape.

As I mentioned earlier, I wanted to share some thoughts from Jonathan Merritt's Green Like God: Unlocking the Divine Plan for Our Planet, a book which truly affirmed and inspired my belief in and commitment to creation care.

I love the approach Merritt takes in this book.  He begins by telling of his unlikely conversion from apathy and skepticism about all things environmental to having a fresh and fervent understanding of a Christian's view on creation.  He tells of the words of a theology professor, a statement that started the ball rolling for him:

There are two forms of divine revelation: the special revelation in Scripture that is able to lead us to salvation and the general revelation we receive through nature.  Both are from God . . . So when we destroy creation, which is God's revelation, it's similar to tearing a page out of the Bible. (-- Dr. John Hammett, as quote by Merritt, page 2)

That led to an epiphany of sorts that put Merritt's feet on the path of discovering more about what God has to say about creation and how we are to respond to His commands regarding creation.

After examining creation itself, Merritt spends time uncovering what is meant in the Hebrew word choice and connotation of God's command for those of us who have dominion over the earth.  When we are told to "work" and "take care of" this planet, the idea is not to doing something merely for ourselves (as humans), but out of loving stewardship of what has been given to us by the Creator.  There is this meaning behind the words that connects stewardship to servanthood:

Understanding dominion as stewardship of God's handiwork rather than man-centered domination is consistent with the original language.  In the Hebrew, the words work and take care of have much deeper significance, meaning to work in ministry or do something for God, to care for diligently in obedience.  Some biblical scholars even translate this verse to read "to worship and obey." (p 48)

Later in the book, he breaks down popular objections to conservationism and creation care.  Many of these are wrapped up in politics, and if this is an argument you bump up against a lot, I highly recommend checking out his response in this realm. 

I loved the section where he takes on the "The World Is Going To End Anyway" objection.  In this section, he quotes N.T. Wright, and I have to say that to gain a full, complete understanding of what the Bible really teaches about the fate of God's creation (all of it), you MUST read Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. 

Merritt equates this kind of thinking to smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, since eventually we are all going to die anyway.  Regardless of your views on what happens to us after death, most Christians recoil at such reckless care of the body because many of us believe what the Apostle Paul wrote about our bodies being temples of the Holy Spirit.  And yet we treat the earth with reckless abandon, even while knowing that God reveals Himself to everyone and everything through His creation!

Merritt writes: "Future knowledge doesn't change our present obligations" and "The knowledge of a returning Master does not free us from our earthly obligations, it calls us to them."

In the latter part of the book, he brings the cause of creation care down into the major issues, and then shows how a life dedicated to responsible living ultimately ends up being a life committed to social justice and the care and concern for God's people.  If you have even a hint of leaning toward creation care, I know you will love this book.  Even better - if you are apathetic or resistant towards creation care, I dare you not to find solid, practical inspiration in its pages.

* * * * *
Finally, I wanted to share some links related to our 40 Days of Community:

Directly related to the idea of creation care connected to community - Carol Howard Merritt's How Your Church Can Support Local Food Movements is a fantastic and practical read, and I think Katie of Imperfect People is putting all of this into action through community gardening.

I LOVE what Nicole wrote at Gidget Goes Home about Intentional Community.  YES YES YES.

And finally, everything I've ever wanted to say, hoped to convey about the tremendous power of daily prayer, especially from the Common Prayer book, Nish (The Outdoor Wife) said it all so much more beautifully and brilliantly than I ever could: The pulse of prayer.

* * * * *
We had to cancel our meal plans again this week because of sickness (this time it was Kyle who was under the weather - a rarity, indeed).  Daily prayers and the encouragement of the #40DayCommunity are blessing my heart out.

I would love to hear from you - reflections on the week behind, hopes for the week to come . . .

 photo courtesy of Christian Revival Network

Introducing the Creation Care Blogging Community!

Once again, I am just so full of gratitude and so blessed by the community here.

Your comments on yesteday's post have been profoundly encouraging!  It blesses me tremendously to find others who are on this same path of caring for the work of the Creator.  As I mentioned yesterday, I have put together something I am really excited to share with each of you:

a Creation Care Blogger list!

Drawing inspiration from the Babywearing Blogger list created and maintained by Stephanie at Adventures in Babywearing, I've decided to launch a way for those of us who are like-minded in this to be able to connect with each other throughout the mountains and valleys and seascapes and plains of this beautiful planet.

I turned to Alaina Pompa who created some of the darling valentine's cards for the Give:LOVE project to create a sidebar button for the Creation Care Blogger list.  I love how it turned out:

Becoming a part of this community is easy!  And it is most certainly not limited to people who blog primarily about a life more natural.  No matter what the content of your blog may be, if you are a person who is interested in creation care, you belong on this list!

You'll find the button's code on this page.  Copy and paste it into your blog's sidebar and then email your blog's name and URL to me at megan at sortacrunchy dot net. 

I'm thinking from time to time it might be neat for us to join in a collective discussion - maybe on Earth Day or perhaps at the beginning of each season.  I am very open to ideas as to how we could be a community in this, but I think connecting with each other is a great first step!

This is My Father's World: A Community of Creation Care

Is it Wednesday already?  That can't be right.  How is it possible?

It's a funny thing, really, when you start thinking about and reading about and talking about

COMMUNITY

so much all the time.  Do you know what has happened next?  What is going on in my 3-D world?

COMMUNITY

and lots of it.  And so, as always, apologies to each of you for not keeping up with my own schedule over here.  We've just been so fully engaged in community here.  And keeping up with the #40DayCommunity on Twitter has been filling an incredible need for me, too.  This has been the best Lent ever.  (Is Lent supposed to be good?  I feel a bit heretical saying that, but what else is new?)

I wanted to make sure to include a week devoted to creation care because there is so much in the way of community when it comes to this topic.  Last year, I read Jonathan Merritt's Green Like God: Unlocking the Divine Plan for Our Planet and was completely blown away by the solid and biblical case he makes for thoughtful, earnest, intentional care of the planet God has created for us.

Lord willing, later this week I want to delve into the book and share some of excellent insights found in its pages.  I found one paragraph that sums up, for me, why creation care is so pivotal as part of my spiritual journey:

God wants to commune with us at all times, not just when we go to church.  He has made the whole world His sanctuary.  When we preserve nature, we can encounter God more easily.  Natural revelation illuminates one of the whys behind the what of the divine plan.  One of the reasons God is so protective of the earth and one of the reasons He charged us with keeping and caring for it is because He is singing through it, glorifying Himself in perpetuation.  That alone should produce in us a deep appreciation for the creation and a passionate worship for the One who made it.  (p. 80)

Yep.  That just about sums it up for me. 

I've planned a special something for those of us who are in community together online, but for now, I would love to hear from you. 

Is caring for the planet - in ways big or small - a priority for you?  What motivates you toward earth-conscious living?  And if living green isn't your thing, what are some things (ideas, practices, etc) that hold you back?

#40DayCommunity: Friday Fellowship, Week Two

No, you aren't crazy.

Yes, it's Saturday.

It has been quite the week.  Both of the girls had very, very bad cases of strep throat and we are all pretty much exhausted. (Especially me, for some reason.)  There are at least three posts that didn't get written this week, and I'm trying so hard to just focus on a life in grace rather than focusing on the ways I've come up short.

But I wanted to make sure that anyone who wanted to had the chance to share highlights from your endeavors in community this week.  So many apologies for the tardiness in getting this posted!

Last Saturday, we traveled to Louisiana for my brother's wedding.  I love what he and my new sister-in-law did: their first act as a couple was to receive Holy Communion together.  When they had done that, they then administered the elements to their guests.  It was a lovely and profound way to share in our life in Christ as well as joining with them in supporting them in their new life together.  (see picture above)  Probably one of my very favorite wedding ceremonies ever!

I would love to hear from you about your week:

1) How did the daily prayers and readings affect you this week?  Were there any that stood out to you?

2) How did you go about building a community of support?

3) Did you get to share a meal with someone you would normally eat with?  (Despite our best efforts, we did not.  We are still kind of quarantined.)

Joining you on Twitter in the #40DayCommunity has been an incredible blessing to me this week, especially since I have been cooped up in the house with sick kids since Tuesday.  Thanks for meeting me there and for your faithfulness in sharing with each other!

Next week: Community of Creation Care

 

Sending Supportive Vibes for a Beautiful Homebirth

Oh, I know.

We're focusing on our 3-D, face-to-face, real life communities right now.

But.

I have this incredible community of friends whom I never would have met were it not for the intersection of our lives through mouse clicks, computer screens, and written words.  And within that amazing, vast community of friends online, a few stand out as absolute kindreds.  Mind Twins, I call them.  Although I suppose that is a bit of a misnomer as twin generally denotes two, and my circle of Mind Twins has blessedly expanded well beyond that number. 

One of my dearest, most treasured mind twin friends is Sarah at Emerging Mummy.  Today, she shared how they are in All Systems Go awaiting the arrival of Tiny #3 who, hopefully, will arrive in their first planned homebirth.

And I do emphasize planned because they've already done the homebirth thing before.  Sorta.

About a year and a half ago, as part of my Birth Choices series, Sarah shared the story of their son's arrival.  I thought it might be cool to re-run that today so we can join together as a community to cheer on, encourage, and support Sarah in these last days before Bebe arrives. 

* * * * *

And so, as a reminder of what an incredible and amazing woman that she is, here is a reminder of Sarah's (Unplanned) Homebirth:

Yes, I had my son in a parkade.

(editor's note to readers in The States: parkade = enclosed parking lot)

I had a hospital birth with my daughter and it was mostly a positive experience. However, my daughter was posterior and required nearly three solid hours of intense pushing, flat on my back, without an epidural.

Wanting to avoid that scenario again, when I became pregnant with my second, I did a bit more research.  I discovered some techniques that could have helped avoid that (walk around, for instance) and started to lean towards a midwife birth, possibly at home. Then I happened to watch “The Business of Being Born.” That was it. I wanted a home birth. However, life got away from me as I was working full time and parenting a not yet two year old and, you know, creating life. So as time slipped away, I reluctantly put away my dreams for a midwife, deciding to just stick with the plan. I was going to deliver, naturally again, in the hospital with our OBGYN.

So much for plans.

I woke up with my first contraction around 3:00 AM. I waited to wake Brian, my husband, until about 3:30. They were about 10 minutes apart. We got up and came out to the living room to relax and hang out. We called my Mum who lives an hour away and my sister and her husband. We were pretty chill - too chill evidently - and told them "no rush, take a shower, come on over". I decided to lie in the tub for a while. I was certainly not enjoying my contractions or labour but really, it was so manageable that I figured I was just easing into it. The pain I recalled with my first was not there (that’s the difference between posterior and anterior, evidently!). I was committed to walking around and staying home as long as possible. But when I hit the bath tub, things started to progress rather quickly.

After less than half hour in the tub, Brian noted that I had thrown up once, was trembling and had become a bit more "inward" even telling him to "stop talking!" right in the middle of a contraction. So he called my Mum and said that he thought I was in transition already. I looked at him like he had 10 heads - transition? I know transition, pal, and this ain't it. 

After I got out of the tub, the contractions went from 6-7 minutes to 3 minutes. That's when I realised that this wasn't a joke and we weren't taking our time. We called my sister again to hurry UP and get over here to keep an eye on our daughter, Anne.

About 7 AM, my water broke. I felt the baby drop into my pelvis.  It was the most amazing feeling. I could tell exactly where the baby was at and, of course, told my husband “We aren’t going to make it.” But the hospital was just a few blocks away and he was adamant we get to the hospital for help. Evidently he didn’t feel up for an unassisted free birth. My sister finally arrived (apparently my brother in law stopped for Starbucks!) and ordered us out the door while she ran to her car and called my mum, leaving my brother in law to watch Anne.

I had four contractions on our way down the hall and in the elevator. I knew he was crowning and couldn’t walk. We emerged from the elevator on our parkade and I had a massive contraction and the baby almost fell out. Brian half-carried, half-dragged me, now desperate for help. He leaned me up against a pole and ran to the truck to pull it over.  

I was actively working to NOT push the baby out but it was coming! The morning rush was on and people were coming into the parkade like crazy while I clung to this pole and hollered that I was NOT MOVING BECAUSE THIS BABY WAS GOING TO FALL OUT! A crowd gathered. A lady ran over and asked Brian if he needed help to which he replied "DESPERATELY!" and she said "Well, my name is Kelly and I’m a nurse." 

Oh, thank you JESUS! 

The crowd of people wanted to help - they called 911 and the fire department. Kelly checked me and then looked at Brian and said "Um, you aren't going to make it. I'll try to catch if you hold her up." 

We leaned against the truck’s back door. I had a hand on the doorjamb and the other on the door, one foot up on the running boards. Brian crawled into the back seat and held me up under my arms. I gave one push and yell and the baby's head came out. He started crying right away. One more push and his shoulders were out. Kelly held his head while I reached down, grabbed his body under his arms and pulled him up to my chest, delivering him myself. Brian pulled me up onto the seat of the truck, off my feet and we just broke down.  

I couldn't stop laughing, Brian couldn't stop crying. He was enormous, healthy, shrieking, bright pink and quite obviously our BOY! Kelly was rooting around the truck for a blanket or something to keep him warm but all we could find were Brian's paint cloths from a job site, so we wrapped him up in that. 

The paramedics arrived about 5 minutes later. I felt great by that time if you can believe it. I was so high and excited, full of adrenalin. I felt FABULOUS! They were great, even letting Brian cut the cord.  My sister and mum finally figured out where we were and came rushing in. They were reassured by my chirping from the gurney with the baby wrapped up that I was GREAT and IT'S A BOY. The paramedics thought it was hilarious and the firemen were pretty excited about the baby. 

Joseph Arthur was 8 lbs, 10 oz, and 20.5 inches long. And to be honest, I felt great. It was the best experience! Let's just say my new theory on childbirth is "Make Gravity Work for You." And what's more - I wasn't afraid. It felt so natural that I didn't feel panicked or freaked out. It sounds odd to say but I enjoyed myself and the experience. I felt every sensation and, while uncomfortable, the pain was manageable. And then the natural high afterwards? There aren’t words. Breastfeeding was a joy and we were instantly bonded.

We went to the hospital with the paramedics but we were home, all together as a new family of four, within 24 hours.

And suffice to say, if there is a third baby (if!), I will certainly plan a home birth. And this time, for Brian’s sake, I’ll even try to make sure a midwife is there.

Sarah Styles Bessey lives in beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband and two children.  She blogs at Emerging Mummy about parenting and faith.