Life Together: The Diomass Intern Program

Crossing the City

2011-06-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

Over the past few months a team of dedicated individuals from All Saints Parish in Brookline have begun a new ministry with the Learn at Lenox Afterschool Program in Roxbury. Volunteers from the church spend one Friday a month conducting a workshop with the kids that demonstrate a set of skills or values that supplement the lessons taught during the week and reinforced at the center Monday through Thursday. The workshops have been diverse and included a broad range of topics including a poetry recital, personal finance lessons and a nutritional demonstration on sugar and soft drinks.Friday June 10 was the last day of the after school session for the academic year and our volunteers wanted to throw an extraordinary end of the year celebration.

Part of the mission of our fledgling ministry is to build deep relationships across different parts of the city. So while our church and the after school center may be separated geographically by only four miles and a fifteen minute drive, culturally, economically and aesthetically Brookline and Roxbury might as well be located on separate continents.Roxbury is gritty, densely populated and lined with unattractive circa 1970’s housing projects. Alternatively, Brookline is tree -lined, nicely manicured, pristine and the housing stock is constituted of beautifully maintained, large Victorian homes. Many of the children from the after school program are being raised in environments where crime and violence are part of daily existence while the kids of our parish are raised in an environment that encourages an unhealthy expectation of overachievement in school, in sports and in other extracurricular activities. On most days these two communities fail to interact. The kids of Roxbury and Brookline grow up in parallel but alternate universes.

The Friday Workshops have begun to change this dynamic. Once a month Brookline goes to Roxbury or Roxbury goes to Brookline. Individuals, who under normal circumstances would never have had the opportunity to meet, become friends witheach other. We begin to dialog together and discover the different challenges that we face in our lives and ways to support each other. This dynamic of developing a personal transformative relationship across communities is the essence of our ministry with Lenox. It is a lesson in the reality of social change. The type of radical change that takes root when actually we take the time to listen to each other’s experiences and develop relationships that cross barriers of race, class and thought. And so it is my deepest desire that last Friday, a genuinely transformative experience occurred on a sunny, warm, late spring day in Brookline over a game of tag and a bowl of ice cream.

Transformation in Time

2011-06-26T14:50:00.001-07:00

This past Friday I had the great opportunity to visit with my spiritual supervisor in Cambridge. Since our first meeting in early October 2010 I have found great comfort in the consistency and availability of my mentor, and now, friend. If you are unaware, parking in Cambridge can be a great task at times. Since I drive to see my spiritual supervisor from my home in Brookline, I have to find parking that is about a 5 minute walk to our meeting location. I have made this walk every few weeks and I am always refreshed by the views of changing seasons that this 6 city blocks provided.

In the fall I witnessed the cool and crispness as colors of orange and brown surround me in the trees and on the ground I was walking. In the winter I trudged through the 4 foot snow banks to feed the parking meter and encouraged my snow boots to show me what they were made of. In the early months of 2011 I witnessed the poking through of leaves that had been hiding under a layer of snow for months, reclaiming the sun and ground as winter thawed. In the spring I was greeted with the sound of children’s voices in the playgrounds as my toes, now exposed in sandals, felt the warm street beneath.

This blog is not about the weather however, although the description of the weather is an important aspect of this entry to give you a sense of the environment in which my entry takes place in. This blog is about a house.

Every time I walked to my spiritual supervision meetings I passed an old house being renovated. In October they had just begun the project, with wood and studs exposed. I remember seeing the workers outside, and thinking to myself that they were beginning something very big and in the midst of some hard weather conditions. Every week I went to spiritual supervision, there were always workers inside and outside, completing and finishing a new project. I didn’t think much of these memories until this past week in my supervision meeting. “So how do you feel, looking back on your experience in Boston over the past year?”, my supervision asked me. I took a minute to think and all I could think about was that house being built. So I went with it.

Not one for recalling things in perfect verbatim form I will explain how I saw this house as an image of my journey. I saw this house much like my spiritual journey while I was in Boston. At first, people were around as I looked inside and decided what had to go, what could stay, and if I had the means to finish the job. Studs, walls, floors all came out. New things were added, and people with different crafts entered into my life to add to the renovation. I am sure there were times when things needed to go but were covered over, to once again be exposed. I am sure things were fixed and would no longer need tending to. A whole new wing of the house was even added, and I saw this as an image of the things that I have built anew in Boston. So many people, doing so many things, and it was finally beginning to come together as a finished product.

My life in Boston is a lot like this house that I passed every couple of weeks. I felt proud to almost see it done last week as I walked by it that I felt an urge to tell the people adding the insulation that they had done a good job. I wanted to tell the guys working on the windows that I remembered when that old building didn’t have any windows. I wanted to tell the concrete guys that the new driveway was where a big pile of scrap metal was only a month and half ago. I am sure they knew all this but I still felt the urge. I think I feel the same urge to let the people who have come into my life during this year of renovation know the impact and change they have induced.

As I walked back to my car, after my supervision, I remembered that without having to park far away I wouldn’t have seen this beautiful transformation over the course of my time in Boston. Much like my literal move to Boston from the South, the distance from all things familiar has allowed me to witness a great transformation in my life during this time. I hope that as you come across having to walk a little further after parking far from your destination sometime in the future, you take that time to realize God might be giving you a chance to see something new, or to take a break and reflect on your journey. It might not get you to your destination any faster but I think it may give you a newfound appreciation for God's interruptions in our lives.

What does justice look like?

2011-06-09T08:19:00.000-07:00

A sermon preached by Tamra Tucker at The Crossing on May 26, 2011.

Do. Love. Walk.
Justice is intimidating to me. And appealing and I want it. It’s intimidating coming from Oklahoma, where comfort is key, to a place that lives and breaths social justice. But how do I talk about justice? How do I approach it? How do I describe what it looks like?

I don’t know what it is, but I know what it isn’t: it isn’t kids taking care of their siblings because their parents aren’t home. It isn’t one of my kids at work losing her aunt to gang violence, being shot in a drive by. It isn’t the trafficking of young girls in our city. And it isn’t passing the mentally disabled off as crazy addicts so we have an excuse not to help them.

But what is justice? Is it turning the tables over in the temple? Is it getting up in the face of injustice and having a shouting match? How do you use the fire that burns for justice? Maybe sometimes.

This is the question that always bugs me. How do you make that jump into uncharted territory? This is why I love and hate this passage of the bible. People ask how to be a follower, how to devote their lives to God, how to be good. It is simple: do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with God. But how? Is it really that simple? How do you do justice? How do you love mercy? How do you walk humbly? I need opportunity; someone to say, “Come with me, I have an idea.”

The strongest example in my life is a deacon named George Day. He lived this verse. He walked into the prisons around Oklahoma and sat with those already condemned, in a place where justice is supposedly already served. And he loved them; he loved them deep with mercy, with kindness. To him, justice wasn’t for condemning people. His call was to walk with them. He met the condemned where they were, in their cells and saw the Christ in them that was in himself, and he loved them and walked with them. He found God in those prisons and loved God and walked with God.

George lit a fire in me. I blazed through my childhood trying to do justice, every bit of it I could. I skipped school to volunteer. I did every charitable thing I could get my hands into, but I could never get it quite right. I didn’t really know how to live this out. How to stay on fire all the time. How to walk humbly with God. How do I live day to day life, doing the simple things that need to get done, and still be on fire, fulfill my call?

The answer is simpler than all the extravagant expressions of emotion we could make up in our mind. Micah pulled direction from Amos, Hosea and Isaiah to give a clear and simple way of obeying God. Do. Love. Walk. This verse gets a lot of attention for the justice side of things. But that isn’t all that’s here. What about the action of kindness? What about walking humbly? How do we check our passionate paths of justice with love and humility? I think there is a reason justice cannot stand alone here.
This passage is used to base the 5th component of our Rule of Life at the Crossing - the justice and service piece. In our rule of life, we commit to justice and service as a spiritual discipline. This discipline takes practice. That fire I had has burnt out a few times and justice doesn’t come natural to me. When I find myself in the body of Christ, with its different members, I find more than opportunity for service; I find love and humble steps, the fulfillment of this passage.

We start this work by worshiping God with one another, and we continue with our voices, by sharing our stories and opportunities for service. We lift one another up, supporting each other not with empty words but with our actions, by our commitment to be present to each other. The point here is not to know on our own, but to keep coming together and doing this work in community, to pose this question to each other, to celebrate each other’s work, to challenge each other’s failings, to hold each in love when we burn out, and to work together to do justice, that God’s will be done on earth.

Interruptions of New Life

2011-05-24T16:25:00.000-07:00

A sermon preached by Ben Whaley on May 22, 2011.

It’s a pleasure to be back with this community this morning. I have spent the last two years as a fellow in the Life Together Intern Program, the program run by Arrington Chambliss. In the internship, we fellows commit to living in community, spending ten hours a week in leadership development and spiritual formation training, and serving 30 hours a week in a social-justice based site placement. My placement is Iglesia San Pedro - St. Peter’s Church here in Salem. I work with the Hispanic ministry there, and we primarily serve youth and families of recent immigrants from the Dominican Republic. I had the privilege of participating in a Lenten series with many members of this congregation, and so I’ve been looking forward to this time to be back with you all.
Sometimes I think the disciples are pretty dense. How can they be so blind? Over and over in the gospels, we see the disciples misinterpret and just plain miss the point. For three years, Jesus has led them and loved them, and yet they say they can not see the way to follow him. For three years, he has preached to them and performed miracles, and yet they can not see the Father in him. It’s almost as if Jesus has become too real to them, too normal. His presence has become so much a part of their routine that they seem to forget he is something extraordinary. They are too comfortable with the mundane, and they get tunnel vision. It is this small-mindedness that speaks when they say, “We don’t know the way. We don’t know the Father.”
This tunnel vision can be dangerous. In the reading from Acts we encounter an angry mob who is too comfortable with its own truth. The chief priests in the Acts account are so sure that they know who God is and what God looks like that they are moved to violence - they make Stephen the first Christian martyr - for the sake of not disturbing their view of the world. The high priests are so blinded by their convictions that they can’t see the truth Stephen offers. The disciples are so blinded by their need for certainty that they can’t see the truth of who Jesus is. Their need to cling to their routines leads to pain, heartache, violence.
It would be nice to think that this kind of thing stopped happening 2000 years ago, but it is clear to me that it hasn’t. This fear of change, fear of the new, leads to anger and aggression and fear-mongering in our world today. I experienced a people living with this fear last fall in Arizona where I heard dozens of people – Anglos - speak out with political and social hostility toward Mexican immigrants for no reason other than the change they brought to their society – a different color skin, a different language. I went to join an immigrants-rights organization called Promise Arizona which was responding to the anti-immigration legislation in the state with a Latino- voter registration drive. I went because of the welcome and love I have received from my Latino community at St. Peter’s.
I went with a small team of folks from St. Peter’s and our goal was simple: register as many Latinos as possible. Period. And you know what? We were good at it. We began to compete against other local teams to see who could get the most registrations. We set a new record each day and single-handedly, I registered about 250 people to vote. So I had the routine down - I would approach someone, make my pitch, smile my charming smile, and they’d sign on the dotted line. I would start in English. If they looked confused, I’d try again in Spanish. I moved through people like a machine. And then I met Ernesto.
We were wading through the crowds at a local bus station, and I approached Ernesto as he sat alone on a bench. “Excuse me sir, are you registered to vote?” I asked. He looked at me. He had dark skin, a scraggly beard, and the oldest eyes I’d ever seen. He didn’t answer my question. “Esta usted registrado para votar?” No answer. I thought he must be drunk, or crazy, or both. I started to walk away.. And then he said. “Sit down.”
I looked around. I had a deadline, and there were a lot of people to talk to on the platform.. Ernesto stared at me. I sat. I waited. I suddenly was aware of young I felt, how white I felt, how different I felt. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Finally he said, “I’m 70 years old. I’ve never voted in my life. The way things are going around here, I think I’d better start.” So we filled out the form together. As I walked away, he called me back to ask, “What’s your name?” Ben, I said. “Benjamin,” he said. “That’s a good name.”
On that park bench, Ernesto interrupted my routine. I suddenly remembered that I had come to Arizona to registerpeople to vote, not numbers. Ernesto had seen me, and without realizing it, he had opened my eyes to every person I would register after him. I began to listen to their stories. I began to remember their names.
I learned that it’s possible to get locked into our comfort zones on many different levels – I realized I was exactly the same as those who would de-humanize immigrants if I continued to hold my vision of reaching a numerical goal and failed to connect with the people I met.
It’s this kind of interruption Jesus is offering the disciples in the Gospel today. When we get tunnel vision, it’s Jesus who asks us to open our eyes. This is what Christ did for us in the resurrection. In the resurrection, he showed that the thing that seems the most real in this world, the most solid fact, death itself, is not as real as Christ himself is. In his resurrection, Christ interrupted the routine of our lives forever. In order to acknowledge that resurrection, though, we must be willing to be changed by it.
I had to be willing to be changed by Ernesto. I pray every day that the citizens of this country will allow themselves to be transformed by those who come into it. And I ask you, where is Christ inviting you into life that is more real than the patterns with which you are comfortable?
This kind of change can be scary. When Christ asks us to follow him into new life it is much more comfortable to stay put, to say with Thomas, “Lord, we do not know the way.” But, if we are willing to open our eyes, and our ears, we will hear Christ’s loving voice.. speaking the same tender words of encouragement to us that he spoke 2000 years ago: “You already know the way. I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” “I am the way,” Christ says. We just have to be willing to be changed by the journey.

A Lenten Reflection

2011-04-20T13:04:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Ben Whaley

In our last newsletter, Charlie wrote about a koan that spoke to him in the Epiphany season. I want to share with you a koan that I have been praying with this Lent:

A monk went away to a cave to meditate. While he was meditating a demon came and stood in the mouth of the cave and hurled insults at him, jibing, “What makes you think you’ll ever become enlightened? You’re a worthless good-for-nothing, more ear wax than brains, wasting your life away for naught.” The demon’s jeers set doubt working in the monk’s heart. The monk took a deep breath and then said, “Mara, is that you? The tea is ready. Won’t you come enjoy it with me?”

Here storytellers have taken divergent paths. Some say that the demon fled, his power broken. I like to think, though, that the demon went in to the cave, that he discovered that the monk’s heart was true, and the monk discovered the demon was not so scary after all.

Lent is the season to invite our demons to tea. Life Together has given me a unique opportunity to practice this self-examination over the last 18 months by introducing me to The Enneagram. The Enneagram is a personality typology that suggests that there are nine basic personality types of human nature, with many subtypes and variations. Each type has characteristic behaviors, senses of self, and patterns.The folks at the Enneagram Institute assert that the Enneagram doesn’t “put your personality in a box, rather, it shows you the box you are in and the way out.” I’m a type Nine, and often my box is my demon. A Nine’s basic desire in life is for peace, the absence of conflict, which sounds lovely. The downside is that Nines will often make great sacrifices of their own personal desires and will to achieve this peace.
As a Nine, I LOVE harmony in community, and I’ve been blessed with a lot of gifts to help me create that. I also tend to tune out things that trouble me, preferring mental static over discord.

For example, last year when I was living in intentional community at SLAM, we had a problem with our dishes: we weren’t doing them. We would wash dishes as long as we could then put them in the dishrack and leave them to dry. However, when the dishrack got full, we would leave the dishes in the sink. It was my chore to clean the kitchen and finally, fed up with doing other people’s dishes, I hid the dishrack. Instead of starting a conversation about the system breakdown and risking a conflict, I took the passive aggressive route and hoped the problem would correct itself. The breakdown soon turned into a blowout, and I learned a valuable lesson about the value of addressing uncomfortable truths instead of trying to maneuver for peace.

This Lent, I’ve invited this avoidance in for tea. I’ve been examining the things I’ve shoved into the shadows and I’m finding that they have less power when I stop avoiding them. The dishes don’t bother me nearly as much once I’ve asked my roommate to do his share. Here, with the kettle on in my kitchen, the demons don’t seem so bad.

"what if..."

2011-03-17T10:55:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I, and several other interns, attended the Diocese’s Spring Learning Event. This year’s event was sponsored by Episcopal Village, which is a network of people who are involved with the “emergent church” or “fresh expressions.” The whole day was devoted to different ways of imagining church. The Crossing hosted worship, and leaders from around the country came to lead “Missional Conversations” about different ways that innovation is happening in the Episcopal Church.

During the afternoon, I attended a conversation led by Thomas Brackett, the Episcopal Church’s “Program Officer for Church Planting and Redevelopment.” During the conversation, he asked the group several questions. He’s not the first to ask these questions, nor will he be the last. That doesn’t matter though, because they are important to hear again and again – because I think they begin to outline the fundamental basis of what it means to be a follower of the Jesus Way.

The first group of questions are a number of different ways to express the same question:

What if I truly believed that I was beloved?
What if the only approval I needed was the approval of the one that has always approved of me?
What if I didn’t need YOUR approval?

The second group began with the question: How do you smell the spirit at work? What then followed was a discussion about how we can begin to trust our sense of when God is on the move, and bring that both more deeply into congregations and out into the world.

I think what strikes me again and again about this kind of work is not how people in the fresh expressions movement are saying something new, but how they are saying something really old.

Growing Into the Sermon on the Mount

2011-03-09T07:55:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Patrick Burrows on March 7, 2011

"So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today."

--St. Matthew 6.34

When I was younger and was asked what kind of life I aspired to live, I would always point to the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of St. Matthew’s Gospel, also known as the Sermon on the Mount. I was completely steeped in the Bible as the guide for life, and in these chapters, I saw Jesus’ greatest teachings about what the “good life” consisted of. Turning the other cheek. Going the extra mile. Choosing the narrow gate. And even, cutting off your right hand if it caused you to sin. I have always had a highly (and if you ask my parents, overly) active imagination, and so, the imagery of these texts really gave me something to sink my teeth into.

As time has gone by, however, I find these messages less appealing. I still very much consider them to be the basis of Christian ethics, but I no longer look at them with the eyes of a child. It’s easy to say as a child to turn the other cheek to that kid in class who won’t share with you. It is an entirely different beast to suggest to adults that they should love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them, especially those who are actively oppressed. Even more to say do not store up your treasures on earth, when consumerism is so rampant that it takes every ounce of self-control to maintain some sense of sanity in the weeks leading up to Christmas. As a child, not storing up treasures on earth was not a problem—my treasures consisted primarily in my Hot Wheels car collection. But now, even when most of my valued possessions can fit in my car, orienting my heart towards my true Treasure is an epic task in and of itself.

But Jesus continues to go on and on with a list of increasingly demanding ethical principles. This is not the Law of the Moses, with individual commandments that can be checked off a list. This Gospel is about metanoia—transformation—, a complete change of the way we interact with the world, moving from one form to another. Later in St. Matthew’s Gospel, when Jesus claims that his “yoke is easy and [his] burden is light,” I can’t help but scoff.

But nothing is more infuriating to me than the last verse of chapter 6. The New International Version translates it as, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” When I was taking a huge course-load and was overly active in extracurriculars my junior year of high school, I had this verse written across the front of my notebooks for my two most intense classes. It was a comforting reminder to take things one day at a time and not to get overly worked up.

“I don’t see why that’s infuriating to you,” you might be thinking. The problem is, I’m an anxiety-prone person. Worrying is what I do. I can usually stave it off by getting ridiculously over-committed and not having time to breathe, much less to think about all the things that could be going horribly wrong all around me. But as I’ve gotten more settled into my site placement and grown into a routine that doesn’t occupy much conscious thought, my brain has time to wander and, inevitably, to start worrying. When I hear Jesus say, “Do not worry about your life,” my immediate reaction is, “Well, that’s easy for you to say. After all, you are God.” Theologians have often argued about whether or not Jesus gave up his omniscience in taking on human flesh, using all sorts of metaphysical arguments. At least from my point of view, for Jesus to have the sheer audacity to say these words, he couldn’t have known the limits of human understanding. Telling us not to worry is akin to telling a fish to learn how to breathe air.

But that is the Jesus I encounter here, a Jesus who pushes me away from the conceit that I have absolute control over my life. My worrying is an attempt to control everything by figuring it out, and is actually implicitly a denial of God’s control in the situation. And though I don’t think that God takes offense at that, by worrying about everything, I’m not making room for God to do something. Instead, I am attempting to micromanage grace, to bend it to my will, instead of letting it flow through me.

Jesus’ words “do not worry about tomorrow” used to be words of comfort, then words of angst. But now, I am beginning to see that they are liberating, if only I will trust that God will take better care of my life than I would. “Tomorrow will worry about itself.”

Agents of Opening

2011-03-07T13:54:00.000-08:00

[Taken from a December 8th reflection by Nicholas Hayes for the Episcopal Chaplaincy newsletter]

These last two months I have been hard at work building a leadership team for Hope in Action at Harvard, the faith-based environmental and social justice campaign I am organizing on campus through the Chaplaincy as its Justice Minister. The work reached a new high point this past weekend, when six students and one Cambridge community member joined me to receive intensive training in leadership and community organizing from Leading Change, Marshall Ganz's community organizing training group at the Kennedy School. Over one and a half very intensive days, we formed a shared purpose, divided our roles, and began the difficult work of strategically planning a spring campaign, centered on interfaith coalition building for green justice in Cambridge.

Most meaningfully, however, we engaged in the work of sharing stories with each other, stories of why each of us was called to this work. Our stories had several common strands, but as I listened to them, what I heard emerging most clearly from all of my leadership team members was a desire--perhaps a vocation--to be agents of opening. We were a diverse group--from Episcopal, Catholic, Methodist, Pentecostal, Evangelical, and Humanist backgrounds--but all present came to the table holding a story of deep frustration with the religious--or in one case, atheist--communities they'd found around them (or found themselves within) earlier in life. And everyone's frustration had a common root: it was frustration at the way in which so often faith communities close themselves--even define themselves by closing themselves--to those outside their boundaries, to their Other. Whether it was the story of a church preaching the Christian gospel while closing its doors to the community of discomfortingly poor workers nearby, or the story a humanist community affirming to its members that they could be "Good without God" while denying the possibility that others could be "Good with God," each one of us had shared in an experience of painful awakening to our own community's self-enclosure. I call it awakening, because it was that experience which ultimately brought each of us to a table together, hoping to bear witness to a different kind of community, hoping to cross those boundaries deliberately left uncrossed by others with open minds, open hearts, open arms--hoping to be agents of opening,

I believe what we named in our common story that Saturday was not only our vocation, but the larger vocation of Christ's Church. What was Christ if not a profoundly boundary-crossing agent of opening? I pray that our work this coming semester will lead us further down this path, and shed more light for us and others on what still unbroken walls Christ's followers might yet be called to break open.

Though these words were written almost three months ago, the sense of call I articulated in them for the first time has only since grown.--Nicholas

Where Real Church Meets Real Life

2011-03-04T06:26:00.000-08:00

Originally written by Vicki Morte for Social Action Ministries on Jan. 25, 2011

Last January, I was a senior at Boston College, returning from Winter Break to my final semester with absolutely no idea what to do after graduation. Struggling to figure out what was next for me, I began to look backwards, carefully taking inventory of how I was already spending my time. I was volunteering at least five hours a week at a women’s day shelter downtown, and had been doing that for four years. I was spending hours reading, writing, and discussing Theology. I began finding a clear challenge to engender justice in the world laid out before me in the Gospels as I really read them for the first time. I was actively avoiding going to Mass on campus, despite the encouragement of my Theology professors, the Campus Ministers I knew, and many of my closest friends. I knew that, for me, a full understanding of social justice and an authentic experience of my faith required that I think about both, together. I was lonely in my newly growing faith because I couldn’t find a community that understood this connection in the same way that I did.

Now, a full year later, I’m almost halfway through a community organizing fellowship within the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts. Through the Life Together Program, I serve as the Minister for Justice and Action at The Crossing, a Christian community of radical welcome that’s working to truly live church out in the world. The Crossing gathers to worship at St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral on Thursday nights at 6 pm, and is a real spiritual home for people who are seeking a community that is genuinely invested in relationships and growth. Coming to The Crossing in the fall, I found the community that I was seeking, a community of friends who value and share in the understanding that lived Christian faith demands deep commitment to and radical movement for justice.

At The Crossing, we welcome all people to commit to each other’s mutual transformation into the fullness of Christ. That happens as we fall in love with God in Worship, as we grow in love for each other and ourselves in Community, and as we share love with the world through Action. Last year, The Crossing began work on a campaign for greater LGBTQ rights and inclusion, reaching out to and collaborating with advocacy groups around the city. The community also began building relationships with homeless youth in the area, particularly those who self-identify as Queer. This year, we’ve continued and grown this work, collaborating in bigger and better ways with other groups and providers. We’ve renewed our commitment to working with young adults who are homeless, forging a new relationship with Bridge Over Troubled Waters and maintaining our connection to The Home For Little Wanderers’ LGBTQ group home, Waltham House.

Following Worship on the fourth Thursday of each month, The Crossing offers Education for Action to the community. On Thursday, March 24, we will be welcoming Robb Zarges, Executive Director of Bridge Over Troubled Waters, and Caitlin Golden, Social Action Ministries Coordinator at the Massachusetts Housing and Shelter Alliance, to begin a conversation about youth homelessness and learn about the many ways that we can take action to support young people and end the cycle of homelessness in our city.

Be with us at 6 pm for Worship or join us at 7:30 pm for this special event. We’re excited to welcome you into this important and powerful work with us.

Peace,

Vicki Morte – Minister for Justice & Action @ The Crossing

If you are interested in attending the event, please RSVP to Vicki at vicki@thecrossingboston.org

Running Towards My Vocation

2011-02-28T11:25:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Kyle Boudreau on February 15, 2011

During these cold winter months, I am continuing to use running as a spiritual practice to keep myself centered and to reflect upon the important things in my life. As I dodge (or run right through) the puddles of slush and hurdle the humungous snow banks, I think about how I can connect with God and where God is calling me. While I know I am not called to run a marathon anytime soon, I know that I can connect with God while running as I look out at the frozen Charles River or the snow covered trees of Corey Hill. The beauty of nature reminds me that God’s love is all around me. As a result, I naturally connect with God as I am running the streets of Boston, Cambridge and Brookline.

As a part of my spiritual practice, I take the time to have a conversation with God and search for the places God is calling me. While I know I am not going to be a professional runner, I do know some of the things that set my heart on fire: building relationships, empowering people in a local community to solve some of their own problems and hearing people’s stories. My work at St. Stephen’s is a natural fit for finding opportunities to put these passions into action. I am doing my 1:1’s with parents, community partners and members of the St. Stephen’s congregation to really learn about the South End and its needs. I know that I have a lot of room to grow as a community organizer and often find myself full of self-doubt. Yet, the one certainty I am sure of is that I learn best by doing. I believe that the idea of a church-school partnership between St. Stephen’s and the Blackstone can work, but I will not get anywhere if I just sit around planning out ideas. It is important that I try out my ideas for supporting the school because even if they fail, I will learn valuable lessons about organizing along the way.

At this point, I do believe God is calling me to serve others as a community organizer. I believe I have some great gifts such as public speaking, determination and a love of people that will serve me well. Certain things will be challenging and I will be tentative to take action. Similarly, there are many cold mornings where I would rather sleep in than go out running and face the cold, harsh wind, but I only get better at running by doing. I know that God I know that I am able to connect with God more clearly when I am running, just as I am able to connect with God more clearly when I am taking action and meeting with people as a community organizer. Both require the effort to get over the initial hump, but once I am out there, it isn’t so bad. I continue to ask God for support on both of these efforts and I am rewarded with the beauty of God when I take action. I plan on continuing to simply ‘dive in’ to both my running and my community organizing, knowing that God is supporting me while encouraging me to ‘just do it’.

Organizing Wisdom from a Life Together Alumna!

2011-02-24T08:41:00.000-08:00

Submitted February 7, 2011

Two years into this deal as a “community organizer” I think I’m just realizing the real work of organizing. The realization comes down to something pretty simple, to the definition of the title.

Being an organizer takes a keen awareness of where energy exists and moving on that energy. It means seeing how a community works, what resources it has, what its needs are and helping match already present resources to existing needs. It’s about helping folks see that they already have the answers to the problems they want some one else to solve. It’s looking at the community with a different sense of eyes and organizing it so it fits right.

The job isn’t about me or the btcke team doing everything. It’s about the community doing everything or at least as much as we can do together. This isn’t always the easiest thing to ensure. People often want you to do everything (I often want to do everything) but if we (me or you) do everything it leaves a lot of time and a little responsibility on everyone else’s plate. The truth is, we ALL have something to give to this world. This is our home and the other people living here are our community members, our neighbors and it’s time we act like it.

We may be thousands of miles apart or living in drastically different place but deep down, we’re all in this together, that’s the truth. And, to see change, we’re going to need to start living by that truth.

Helping you realize that truth, helping me realize that truth, helping the global community realize that truth – that’s my job as a community organizer.

Natalie Finstad :: Be The Change Kenya Executive Director

Sermon: Putting the "Micah" in Micah Intern

2011-02-23T10:32:00.000-08:00

Delivered by Paul Hartge on January 30, 2011, at Christ Church Waltham

Have any of you wondered why my official title is a Micah intern? Probably not, but let’s pretend you had. It seems a bit odd, doesn’t it, to name an internship after an obscure Hebrew prophet. Why not name the position, “young adult intern”? The answer lies in the last verse of the Old Testament reading for today, Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God”. In my internship program, we strive to follow Micah’s threefold commandment through our vocations.

We are not the only ones who use this verse either. In the past ten years, Micah 6:8 has become a slogan for many Christians. The verse has been invoked in campaigns to fight poverty here and abroad including another Micah Project that does street outreach to children in Honduras. The reason this verse is so appealing is that it shows an alternative to the false dichotomy that is presented about Christianity. This dichotomy says that the Christian life is either about one’s personal piety and social issues don’t matter or that it should focus on fighting social ills and personal piety isn’t that important. Instead, Micah 6:8 shows that both are necessary. Working to create a better world and working to make yourself a better person, that walks with God, are equally important parts of the Christian life. And both should be done with kindness.

So what does it actually mean to follow this verse as a slogan of our faith? Does it mean donating to diaper depot, coming to service and doing a good turn daily. Yes and no. These are great examples of ways to follow Micah’s teaching and thus, to follow God. However, if it is reduced to a checklist, then the point is lost. One of the ideas that Micah is trying to convey in the broader passage is that God does not want us to follow a passionless checklist. Instead, God wants us to undergo an inner transformation that causes us to want to do that which is on the checklist and so much more.

One person who underwent this transformation, that I have been inspired by recently, is the late Archbishop Oscar Romero. From his writings it is clear to me that he answered Micah’s call with his life. He strove to let his soul be possessed entirely by God. Romero did this through an intentional and very deep spiritual life. This inner devotion eventually changed his outer work. When his friend was assassinated for helping the poor, he began to use his position of influence to speak out against the rampant poverty and violence in El Salvador. This ultimately led to his assassination. Now, Romero is almost universally respected as a modern martyr.

By devoting himself to God, to the point of Martyrdom, Oscar Romero lived out not only Micah’s description of a Godly life, but Jesus’ description of the Christian life, which he lays out in the Gospel reading for today. Like Micah, Jesus invites us to live lives of justice, kindness and humility. Except while Micah gives us a slogan with three key points, in the Beatitudes, Jesus gives us a cryptic and somewhat mystical list. This is a list that, as many have pointed out, seems to turn reality on its head. Even though these characteristics are often seen as important virtues, the world rarely treats these virtues kindly, or rewards them properly.

Yet, Jesus says that God blesses those who exhibit these qualities. Another translation of the beatitudes is “happy are those” instead of “blessed are those”. It still doesn’t seem to make that much sense that these characteristics would lead a person to be happy. But that’s just the point of the beatitudes. Working to further God’s kingdom in the world requires living in a way that society tells us will not make us happy. However, when we live this life, God will give us a contentedness, or even joy, that we would not have expected.

The question then becomes, what does this mean for us? What exactly does it mean to inherit the earth or see God and when exactly do these things happen. Are we supposed to act into these characteristics or just accept them when they happen? Sometimes, life thrusts these qualities upon us without our choice. We do not always choose to be mourning or to be in a state of poverty. Sometimes, these just happen to us. But we can all make the decision to act mercifully towards others, to cultivate a pure heart and to work to create a peaceful world. It takes a conscious decision to follow this radical way of life that Jesus calls us to.

I also think that we can live out the other side of the Beatitudes. I’m not saying we can force God’s hand. The pace that God works at is outside of our control. But I do think we can allow ourselves to be the vessels through which God blesses others. In this way, I think that the Beatitudes are not counterintuitive, but instead speak to our better nature. Who among us doesn’t try to comfort someone in mourning? When you hear of someone who is trying to work for peace in the Middle East, or in Sudan or the inner city, it only seems natural to call that person a child of God. When a young mother who doesn’t know how she is going to provide for her child comes to our doorstep, we can give her some diapers saying that this is part of the bounty of God’s kingdom, which is for you. Then, when someone stops you and asks you why you are doing this, you could tell them you are trying to live out the beatitudes. Or you could just tell them that that your life slogan is Micah 6:8.

Advent: Moving beyond opening doors

2010-12-16T17:16:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Isabelle Jenkins on December 15, 2010

For me, Advent has always been the wreath with the purple and pink candles and the calendars full of chocolate and covered in sparkles. Despite the fact I attended Catholic high school and a Jesuit college, Advent was never really explained to me, or, perhaps, I never really listened.

For the first time this year however, I had to listen. At my site, Church of the Good Shepherd in Watertown, my supervisor and the priest-in-charge, Amy McCreath, asked me if I would be willing to lead a justice themed bible study for Advent for some of the parishioners. My initial inclination was to say no because not only did I have no idea what Advent really was, but I also had no idea what justice had to do with Advent. How am I practicing social justice by opening a numbered door and eating the small, essentially tasteless chocolate inside?

After posing this question to Amy (using different words, of course), this mindset changed completely. Advent is Amy’s favorite season and, for her, it is perhaps the ultimate example of God’s desire for social justice. God chose Mary to bring into the world Jesus, the social transformer who turned over the tables in the temple, broke bread with the sick, the poor, and the needy, and was crucified for his resistance. In other words, God chose an unwed, common woman to give birth to God on earth. This is why Advent is the ultimate season for justice to Amy—what could model social transformation more than the time that glorifies the woman on the margins who brought God into being through the person of Jesus, the man who wanted to bring those on the outside to the center?

This conversation made something click in my mind. As a huge fan of liberation theology, I have always envisioned Jesus as a person who wanted to mobilize people to change the socially divided and marginalized world. Thus, Amy’s view of advent completely stuck with me. Advent is the time when we wait and hope for this vision of justice to arrive again. So even though I’m still opening those little doors and eating that chocolate, the counting down of the days is starting to mean something else to me. With each door I open, a little light shines through, beaming God’s vision for justice back into this world.

Bridging the Gap

2010-12-08T15:25:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Paul Hartge on December 2, 2010

One of the most memorable moments of my internship so far has been the joint pot luck between Christ Church and St. Peters in September. The anticipation of the event was actually quite nerve racking. Would people from Christ Church stay later for the lunch? Would people from St. Peter’s come early? Was anyone actually going to bring any food? Thankfully, it worked out. People from both parishes showed up, and there was plenty to eat. Not only that, but the two parishes were even mingling together. The best part of the morning was when we all sang “What a Friend we have in Jesus”, switching between verses in English and verses in Lugandan.

Since then, I have been attending St. Peter’s service and coffee hour each weak. It is a very interesting experience worshiping in a language that I don’t understand. The highlight of their service is Rev. Alex’s children’s story, because it is the only part of the service that is in English. Other than that, I’m usually completely lost. Normally, during the sermon I explore the Book of Common Prayer, the Hymnal or any other reading material I have in front of me (unless Rev. Christine switches to English in the middle of her sermon single me out and explain what she will be preaching on). Once in a while, someone will translate the service for me. However, what is most powerful for me is singing with St. Peter’s. Despite not knowing what I am singing, I am moved when I realize that we are all worshiping God in their native language.

After the service I stay for their coffee hour. I’m not sure Upper Fales Hall is ever as crowded as it is during their coffee hour. This is when I can really connect with people in St. Peter’s. I will chat with them and here stories of their immigration experience. One of the best conversations I had was with Andrew, a third grader. Andrew told me that his favorite thing to do is help people and pick up litter whenever he can. I think fifteen years from now Andrew should be a Micah intern.

I know that some people, in both congregations, are skeptical about the project of creating more fellowship between the two parishes. I am hopeful. At the potluck I saw children from both parishes running around the room. Why shouldn’t they run around the room together? In fact, I am already seeing that happen in small ways. Last week after the 10:00 service, Alisha, the daughter of the Senior Warden, asked me where her Dad was. I told her that Jonathan had to stay late for some meetings. Her response was that she was going to go see if some of her Ugandan friends had arrived, while she waited for the meeting to end.

The Rewards of Letting Go

2010-11-29T19:53:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Sarah Currer on November 27, 2010.

It is always nice to be reminded why what you do is important.

I’m something of a perfectionist and it can be hard for me to let go of a project when I feel like I can do it better. So I was in a tricky position when I found myself with two of my high school students trying to craft a letter in a delicate political climate.

I work with the Boston Student Advisory Council (BSAC), a group of high school students that works in partnership with Boston Public Schools (BPS) to put the student voice in education reform. I’m always impressed with these students and what they’ve accomplished and the passion and savvy with which they argue. But they are a little rough around the edges, and BSAC always has to be careful about the stance we take because we work within the organization we are trying to change. Recently, BPS has been in a highly publicized fight with the teachers union and the Superintendent has proposed several highly controversial changes to the Boston school system, including closing several schools. In light of these things a newspaper article highly critical of the Superintendent was published.

My job with BSAC is to support the students in their advocacy, and usually this involves setting up meetings, answering emails and researching the current state of affairs. But last Wednesday afternoon it involved me sitting down with this harsh newspaper article, two students, and the instructions to write up some sort of response. I had them read the article themselves without any explanation and then asked them what they thought. Through our discussion we reached the same conclusion that my boss had: the students should personally write the Superintendent. As they put down their initial thoughts I cringed a little internally and had to go do work at another desk to not say anything.

To my surprise, though, as they continued their back and forth on each word, sentence, and paragraph that they typed, the letter got more and more refined. The initial outpouring of sympathy and support, peppered with SAT vocabulary slightly misused and the awkward wordage that can come from English as a second language, was slowly transforming. As I answered their questions and they continued to pour over their work I became really impressed with the document they were producing. Their heartfelt, genuine emotions and unguarded turn of phrase were so much more meaningful than any precise and careful response I could have written, however beautiful my turn of phrase. Letting them take the reins not only gave them a better sense of the difficulties of political relationships and got them more personally invested in their project. It also produced better results! Their letter brought a smile to its recipient’s face and reminded me how powerful it can be to step back and let others speak up.

A Day at Diocesan Convention

2010-11-29T19:48:00.000-08:00

Submitted by Cara Mills on November 16th, 2010

On Saturday November 6^th the Episcopal diocese of Massachusetts held its annual convention. The entire Life Together Program was invited to attend and participate. Leading up to this day I was unsure of what the convention would consist of and how we, the interns, would play a role. I was excited to see how a diocesan convention was run as well as to see the many priests I work with on a daily basis in a new environment. I accompanied a fellow intern to Lynn the day before the convention to see the space and to prepare for the many tasks the intern program had been asked to kelp with the next day. St. Stephen's in Lynn is a beautiful church with an intricate history and a wealth of character. The church is full of long hallways, many small rooms, and multiple stairwells. As I was shown around the space I learned many details for the day like where the coffee would be served, what rooms lunch would be eaten, and how to direct someone in need to the nursery. I thought to myself, how are 500 hundred people ever going to fit in this building?

Saturday started early and dark. Upon arriving at St. Stephen's in Lynn I was assigned to direct traffic with many of the other Life Together interns. The two large parking lots were empty and the buildings quiet. I smiled at fellow interns across the road as we waved our welcome signs at one another anxiously awaiting the arrival of 500 expected guest. Slowly the cars began turning the corner and quickly the first parking lot was filled. All of us standing in the streets and the sidewalks were jumping and dancing with our signs attempting to stay warm in the cold morning air. Our excitement to see the many guests we had been anticipating all morning was returned through waving hands and friendly hellos out of the car windows. The welcome grew in its joyfulness as more and more priests and lay people filled the sidewalks and doorways. Old friends greeted one another and new introductions were exchanged.

I don't think this excitement faltered all day as the convention progressed. I was especially moved by the convention's acknowledgment of the Life Together program. It meant so much to me to see how deeply we are supported by the diocese. There was so much power in having everyone from the diocese join together that day. It was an inspiration to see how we are all working together for a common goal. Each of the people in the building that day was working to build faith communities and fight injustice in their own way. During the lunch break I witnessed the miracle of 600 people successfully fitting in to that building and sharing a meal together.

Becoming the Future Church

2010-11-04T09:18:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Paul Hartge on November 3, 2010

In January, I saw Rev. Dr. Soong-Chan Rah speak at Calvin College, my alma matter, as part of our J-term lecture series. He suggested that the concern over the dwindling church in America is misguided and that Christianity in America has a vibrant future, with ethnic and immigrant churches. I think Professor Rah is right, which is why I am excited about the work that I am doing with Christ Church in Waltham and St. Peter’s Anglican Church of Uganda, in Waltham.

Christ Church is a beautiful Episcopal Church and congregation that has been around for 160 years. St. Peter’s is a Ugandan immigrant congregation that meets at Christ Church on Sunday afternoons. My job is to facilitate more fellowship between Christ Church and St. Peter’s. By bringing these two congregations together, they can both represent what the church can look like in an increasingly globalized world.

This goal will not come without difficulties of course. Even though everyone at St. Peter’s speaks English, they have their service in Lugandan. Also, their parishioners come from a wide, twenty mile radius, so many can only make it to Waltham for Sunday service. There are also, of course, the cultural and theological differences between the two congregations that can at times create tension.

We can overcome these difficulties though. In September, the two congregations had a joint potluck. I will admit no one was quite sure how it would turn out until it actually happened. The lunch, however, was quite successful. Both the Americans and the Ugandans enjoyed trying each other’s food. We also sang “What a Friend I have in Jesus” in both English and Ugandan. We are now looking forward to having an Advent party together and doing a joint Bible study. I am also hearing from members of each congregation that they are interested in learning about the other’s culture. In their own way, Christ Church and St. Peter’s are becoming the future of the Church.

A Story of Now: St. Stephen's and the Blackstone School

2010-11-01T15:25:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Kyle Boudreau on Tuesday, October 26th, 2010

This year, I am charged with the exciting task of building a stronger connection between The St. Stephen's and the Blackstone Elementary School Communities. The tag line we use at St. Stephen's is "stronger communities = stronger schools," as we hope to make the South End a more desirable place to be by making the Blackstone a school where parents really want to send their children. I know this task is worthwhile because of my belief in the power of community organizing and the great opportunity for positive change at this particular school. The Blackstone Elementary School is one of Boston's "turn-around" schools. This means the school had to hire a new principal, had to require every staff person re-apply for their job, and had to hire at least 50% new staff. As a result, 85% of the staff at the Blackstone is new and teachers were brought in from around the country to invest in this school's children.

The students at the Blackstone are in dire need. On the 2009 MCAS, 88% of 4th graders either failed the MCAS English/Language Arts section or needed improvement. Similarly 84% failed or needed improvement on the math section of the MCAS. These students are falling behind their peers and need the support of the community. St. Stephen's is providing support to the Blackstone community in many ways. In addition to providing an after-school program for 90 elementary-age children, 30 of which come from the Blackstone, St. Stephen's has spearheaded an effort to renovate and reopen the Blackstone's school library and has approximately 10 volunteers serving in the library or in a classroom setting each week. Along with approximately 50 other partners, the South End community is making a strong effort to help the Blackstone improve its MCAS scores and provide an overall better learning environment.

However, there is much more work to be done. The library is still a work in progress and it will be a while before it can lend books out to students. Many of the students at the Blackstone need a mentor and need their parents to get involved in their school. I am making an effort to push for parental involvement in the parent council and I am continuing to look for strong leaders from the St. Stephen's community who can help make this partnership stronger.By empowering the community to make the Blackstone a school that parents really want to send their kids instead of a last resort, I can empower the community to make a stronger, more vibrant South End neighborhood for everyone.

Morning Prayer on the MBTA

2010-10-13T06:16:00.000-07:00

Submitted by S. Angell on Thursday, October 7th, 2010

Every morning greets me with one inevitability: commuting to work. I have decided to devote this time as a time of prayer. the transformational nature of a commute seems to be the perfect place to prepare myself to a day of striving for Justice. As I board the 47 bus at Lenox in Brookline I am surrounded by the “those who haves” just on south side of the BU bridge. When I depart the bus at Washington Street opposite Ruggles it feels like I am in a different world. From the well manicured lawns of Brookline to the Abandoned lots and discount stores of Dudley Square, it is hard to believe that these two places are just 2.1 miles away from each other.

The Bus ride provides me with 30 minutes of time where i have no immediate task. A perfect opportunity for prayer and people watching. As i leave the house in the morning I play on my ipod “A Prayer of Desmond Tutu.”

Goodness is stronger than evil

Love is stronger than hate

Light is stronger than darkness

Life is stronger than death

Victory is OURS through him who loves us

This has become my centering prayer throughout the day. It reminds me that we can win this fight and bring the kingdom of God through those stronger ideas. We live in a world that is dominated by the ideas of hate, darkness, and death. The duty of the church is to love, show light, and value life, in all forms. As i see the population change from the med students and doctors when I get on the bus to a dramatically different population as I disembark, I let that time be a time of reflection on the work I am about to do to further the cause of Justice in the world.

Closing Thoughts on Arizona, Jesus, Democracy

2010-10-06T05:31:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Caroline Hunter on Tuesday, October 5, 2010

In Massachusetts, it’s always been clear to me: Jesus was a Democrat. He often used flowery language and parables instead of giving direct answers. He was a neighborhood guy, but didn’t make promises about bringing about new prosperity. He rarely, if ever, had sex and constantly pointed out people’s hypocrisy. He was an Irish Catholic Democrat, to be sure.

For the past week, I’ve been in Arizona registering voters in preparation for the first big election since the state’s infamousSB1070 legislation was written. What a wildly, wonderfully different place!

Arizona is one-third Democratic, one-third Republican and the last third is Independent. After speaking to hundreds of people every day here for over a week, I’ve come to see that politics can be more than the cartoon I've come to see it as. Newt Gingrich isn’t just the guy with a squinty face spewing ignorant values into the public sphere; neither is Barack Obama the captain of a ship headed toward financial stability and national dignity. I am not an audience for either of them.

I am a person out in 100-plus degree weather working to get people to care about a political system of which I can't grasp a definition yet. Alongside my team of PromiseArizona colleagues, I am trying to figure out if I’m a narcissistic do-gooder with a political agenda that I refuse to expose even to myself; or if I am more akin to Glenn Beck, a man so sincere in bereaved, irate confusion that he spreads it to the otherwise-logical. From within the Catholic and academic hierarchies I've grown up in in Massachusetts, his apparent intellectual humility can be a relief; Glenn claims to not even know what he's going to say before he says it.

No, I don’t want to be an American Idiot, but I’m not sure anymore what defines one. Or if I want to participate in an American politics that can’t function without someone being pinned as one type of donkey or another.

I feel closer to Jesus this week because I’ve been getting a tan and getting my feet dirty on the ground here in Arizona. I feel more American in that I’m finding ways to reinvent myself in an environment different from what I have known.

Maybe those feelings are the same one. Maybe not. I only care about the people I’ll meet tomorrow, and with whom I’ll vote on November 2.

News from MIT: The Challenge We Face

2010-10-06T05:21:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Mary Beth Mills-Curran, Friday, October 1, 2010.

One of the largest challenges we face, at the MIT, site is trying to create sustainable, collective action, rather than just short-term service. This challenge also offers a large potential pay-off. We have struggled to figure out how we can engage the 70 people that committed to us last year in real collective action. It would probably have been easier for us to just plug into an existing organization, but none of them really had the collective community perspective that we wanted to develop. In addition, if all of the people who committed 1% of their time to Hope in Action were to turn out, we would overwhelm any single community partner.

Why Area IV?

Area IV is the neighbourhood that lies between MIT and Central Square. It is not only MIT’s immediate neighbour, but it also is possibly the most underserved community in Cambridge. It is home to a vibrant immigrant population, mostly from the Caribbean, but also from Côte d’Ivoire.

Our Strategy

As I see it, our work has two main components, which may be served by the same activities, but have different goals. The first is to honour the commitments we made last year. The second is the use

Last year’s time commitments

In order to give the people who commitments of time last year, we want to provide a number of “plug-in” service opportunities. This will probably consist primarily of encouraging them to become regular volunteers at non-profit organizations at work in Area IV. The main drawback of this is that we feel that it does not adequately satisfy our desire to engage in collective action. It is, however, probably the best thing we can do at this stage in our development.

Making our work collective

In order to make our work more genuinely an expression of collective action, we want to add several types of community building events.

Occasional large group service events possibly incorporating an environmental perspective.
Social Events--among MIT members of Hope in Action, and with both MIT and Area IV residents
Lectures, forums, films, or other more reflective/awareness-raising types of events

Moving forward to real collective action

The main work of this year’s campaign will be to figure out how we can take these relationships that we have built and transform them into collective action. In that vein, it seems like it will make sense to try to have a few members of the leadership team engaged in listening in the Area IV community. We spent last year listening at MIT, but now we need to listen in the community that we wish to serve. So for a while I guess we will just be showing up at events in Area IV and meeting people.

On the Justice Trail in Arizona, Part 2

2010-09-27T10:19:00.000-07:00

Written by Ben Whaley, Sunday, September 26

Tucson feels different than Phoenix. First of all, it's a college town. Secondly, even though it's much closer to the border, it feels removed from the political hotbed that is Maricopa County, AZ.

I can honestly say I attended more college-football related events in the last 48 hours than I did in the whole of my university career. Yesterday our team of volunteers hit the University of Arizona campus HARD. We registered voters at an ethics forum in the morning (did you know the AZ legislature is trying to cut the funding of ethnic-studies programs across the state.. and at the same time claim they're not racist?), we swarmed the UofA food court, we went to the tailgating, and we hit the post-game crowd at the local college-bar strip. I bet I registered a couple students last night that didn't remember getting registered this morning...

In all that chaos, it's easy to feel like this is just a numbers-game. It is, really, a numbers-game. Staying connected to our motivation is more difficult here. In Phoenix it felt like the challenge was right in front of us. Here, there are seas of apathetic students. Tonight, we went to a park and for the first time registered a high concentration of picnicking Latinos. It was great to see large families out enjoying the relatively cool evening, and it felt good that even though many of them told us they were undocumented and couldn't vote they were still excited and happy that we were out specifically targeting the Latinos that could vote. It was good to feel connected to the warmth of the Latino community that I fell in love with in Salem... the warmth that led to my desire to come to Arizona.

On the note of folks just flat out telling us they're undocumented... I'm surprised at how many of them actually do just come out and say it. I suppose we're not the most intimidating bunch (a gringo chico speaking terrible spanish, a UCC minister in a collar, a soft-spoken Philipino, and a young woman with the heart and soul of a teacher) but I'm still curious about what brings people to be so open with that information. I imagine, with all the danger of crossing the desert, and the added danger of living in such a threatening community, being undocumented is something to celebrate indeed.

The word mojado - or wetback, a colloquial slur for someone who swam across the Rio Grande to get into the US - is sort of a joke when uttered on friendly lips. But tonight, Cornelio taught us another reason. He approached one man to ask if he was interested in registering to vote, and the man informed him, "No, I can't, I'm a mojado."

"Yo tambien," Cornelio replied, "Porque estoy sudando." 'Me too,' he said, 'because I'm sweating.'

It's true. In this desert, todos estamos mojados.

On the Justice Trail in Arizona, Part 1

2010-09-27T10:17:00.000-07:00

Written by Ben Whaley, Friday, September 24

It’s no wonder tempers seem to flare so easily around issues here in Arizona. It’s hot. It’s hard to say anything else about my first impressions of Arizona. But have you ever heard the expression “where there’s smoke there’s fire”? I can tell you here it feels more like.. where there’s heat there’s fire. More than fire, an explosion.The logo of Promise Arizona (PAZ, the organization with which I'm volunteering to register voters in AZ) is a dove rising phoenix-like out of flame to symbolize the justice that will come after the struggle for immigrant’s rights here. But it's very clear to me that we're still in the flame.

Yesterday started early and brightly. As soon as we arrived, we were hooked up with Michelle (a fellow Boston-er) who's working on coordinating out of state volunteers for PAZ. Michelle has Boston connections to MIRA (www.miracoalition.org) and SIM (www.simforus.com) and knows the Massachusetts Immigration Rights scene well, so when I get back to Boston I'll definitely be emailing her for some perspective. She took us to lunch, we shared our stories of self, and then we got to work registering students to vote at a local community college. We had an awesome afternoon, registering votes at a ridiculously high rate (they tell you to shoot for getting one an hour and we got 8 in a half hour).

As the day died down at the community college (and after we were asked to leave by the friendly police officers), we headed to Ranch Market which is a supermarket chain in Phoenix. All the Ranch Markets have given permission for PAZ to come register voters in their stores, and it was soon clear why: 75% of their clients were Latino. They have a vested financial interest in immigrants staying in AZ.

This is when the day finally felt real, when the people we were registering began to take shape in my eyes. Many people I approached with my question "Excuse me, con permiso, are you registered to vote?" smiled and responded, happy that I was out doing this work. Many others showed wide eyes and shared nervous glances with their companions at being approached by a gringo with a clipboard. Their fear made me feel guilty - guilty for startling them, guilty for being a part and product of this country that is terrorizing them.

Others, still, seemed defiant of the state's new laws. I approached one woman and her daughter and when I asked, in my broken Spanish, if she was registered to vote, she laughed and fired something in rapid Spanish to her daughter. I didn't understand it, but the daughter told me "She can't."
"No problem," I said, "Someday soon I hope." The girl relayed this to her mother, who laughed again - a full, deep laugh - and said something else I didn't quite catch to her daughter, who looked hesitant.
"Dile, dile" the mother said, 'tell him, tell him.'
Finally the daughter said, a little sheepishly, "She says she's a wetback." We all laughed together for a long time right there in the aisle.
And then I said "Well... Bienvenidas."

Today, the work has been more difficult. We're told that Fridays are always hard days for voter registration campaigns, but I think we're all still feeling a little disappointed. We've been invited to leave a movie theatre and a grocery store. We went to a football game that wasn't actually happening. We tried a community college that was deserted on a Friday afternoon.

Voter Registration is not glamorous work. It's guesswork and luck and perseverance, so far, but it's also rewarding. Every completed form feels like a mini victory. Every new vote is a voice that wasn't being heard before. I only regret that there are so many voices that will not be heard in the election, voices that are proud and warm. But, like the woman in the supermarket, I have hope that if those voices are persistent they will one day be heard. And when they do speak, I hope this country gets to enjoy a long deep laugh in the supermarket aisle, a release after so much fighting and tension.

"Come, let us return to the Lord; for it is he who has torn, and he will heal us; he has struck down, and he will bind us up. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live before him. Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord; his going forth is as certain the dawn; he will come to us like the showers, like the spring rains that water the earth."
Hosea 6:1-3

A First Encounter with the Enneagram

2010-09-27T08:21:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Laura Zeugner, September 24, 201

This past week in training, the Life Together program delved into the complex world of personality typing. We spent time with the Enneagram, getting to better know ourselves and our community members, and ultimately putting this knowledge to use through type- specific spiritual practices.

As a lover of personality tests, I was excited to begin working with the Enneagram’s 9 types of being. I quickly identified my type as well as a few of my peers’ types. But for some this was a difficult process- there were many who identified with multiple types or with none at all. I am sure there are still also those in our group who doubt the Enneagram’s accuracy or importance.

I, however, immediately saw the attributes of my type at work within myself and could easily relate them to my spirituality. As a type 4, or Individualist, I am ruled by my emotions and value identity and personal significance above all else. At my healthiest, I can be seen as imaginative, creative, and unique. At my worst I become filled with emotional turmoil and can turn to self-indulgence or self-harm.

It has always been easy for me to believe in God, perhaps because I live in my heart and not in my mind, like some of the other Enneagram types. Once I had an emotional experience of spirituality, I did not question or over-think it, but embraced it and refused to believe that something I felt so strongly could not be real or true. It is also easy to understand that, as a type 4, some of the biggest questions I have for God involve my own personal call. And as for my spiritual downfalls, they often fall into the categories of self-indulgence or moodiness and melancholy.

Our work with the Enneagram has been extremely eye-opening for me. Not only in regards to my own personality and spiritual journey, but for the whole community’s. It’s fascinating to watch other types discover their deepest motivations and fears, and see how these present themselves in their beliefs. I plan on continuing to research my type and to use the Enneagram to help strengthen my relationship with God.

Remembering 9/11 along the Jesus Way

2010-09-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

Submitted by Patrick Burrows, September 14, 2010

This past Saturday was the ninth anniversary of the tragedy of September 11, 2001. Everyone remembers where they were when the news of the events in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania came across the airwaves. I was sitting in Mrs. Bowman’s 8th grade English class when our principal made an announcement in a choked voice that still stands as the only time I witnessed her emotions. For the remainder of the day, the entire school stared at the television, transfixed by the horror that was happening too close to home. For my generation, this moment in time sits as a pivot: that moment when suddenly, everything changed.

Last year, President Obama made a call to service in remembrance of 9/11 and of those who perished on that day. The Life Together program, in conjunction with the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts, organized its second annual day of service stemming from this call. We came to serve alongside our brothers and sisters from across Eastern Massachusetts, both inside and outside of the Church. Service in this way struck me as an act of radical protest. By serving, we protest against the violence and hatred of that day with humility and love–the opposite virtues–rather than with violence and hatred as some are wont to do. This is what Christianity is about: Love in the face of hatred and fear.

I had the privilege on Friday night of travelling with another intern to St. Stephen’s, Lynn to watch the premiere of the youth group’s short film, “I am Lynn”, which many of you will have the opportunity to see at Diocesan Convention in November. In it, I heard the youth of St. Stephen’s recount stories of violence and fear from their past that shook me to my very core. But the striking thing was not the fear, but the fact that these youth were able to stand up in the face of these horrific moments and show compassion, not only towards the people around them, but also on themselves as witnesses, survivors, or perpetrators. Though they would likely be hesitant to view it this way, the love I witnessed in these youth who have so much slated against them blew me away. Rather than buckling to fear, they counter it with love.

It strikes me, then, that three days after September 11, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Holy Cross. The collect of the day reads: “Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself…” quoting the Gospel according to St. John, 12:32. For first century denizens of the Roman Empire, the cross was the symbol of the most shameful, most horrifying way to die imaginable. But upon that cross, Jesus stretched forth his arms in a loving embrace, not bowing to the violence of that moment. And through that embrace, the symbol of the cross—once the incarnation of terror—has become the symbol of God’s saving act of love for us.

This is the Jesus way: to stand boldly in the face of terror, violence, and hatred and proclaim peace, humility, and love.

Extra!

2010-07-25T10:26:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from a recent email received by LifeTogether Program Director Arrington Chambliss:

Dear Arrington,

I write to share the news of some wonderful press received by the Diocese’s Relational Evangelism Pilot Project. Please click on the link below to be taken to the Alban Institute’s website, and an article written by The Reverend Sheryl A. Kujawa-Holbrook, former Academic Dean of Episcopal Divinity School. This article describes the Project, as well as its attempts to stem the tide of the decline of membership in mainline Protestant churches by engaging young adults in the compelling mission of God in the church and the world.

http://www.alban.org/conversation.aspx?id=9141

Hope in Action leaves campaign leader with organizing insights

2010-07-25T10:21:00.000-07:00

This post was generously contributed by Church of the Holy Spirit Mattapan's Relational Evangelist Kendyll Hillegas. It is a reflection upon what she's learned through working as a community organizer with the Hope in Action Campaign, 2009-2010.

Key Learnings, CHS 2009-2010

Don’t make assumptions – I guess this idea should be a no-brainer. And to be fair tomyself, I did understand it to a certain degree before I went to CHS, but at that time, itmeant something more like “don’t make assumptions about people before you knowthem” or “don’t judge a book by its cover.”

What I learned at CHS, is that “don't make assumptions” really means that if you want tounderstand a person or community and work with that person/community where they'reat, you'd better not assume anything about even the most basic circumstances. (Forexample, assuming that the directory at a church will be public because every churchyou have been to has always had a public directory).

On a deeper level, in its relationship to organizing, the specificity this phrasemakes room for has really been a key learning for me as well. In the past when ina coordinating role on events or projects, volunteer recruitment was often a task I'dundertake. However, after this year as an RE I've noticed that all those previousyears wearing the hat of volunteer recruiter, I'd had a gap in a crucial moment – theask. “Don't make assumptions” has allowed me to see what I was doing wrong inthose situations - assuming that the person I was asking had understood or taken themeaning I'd wanted them to take.

I think before I worked with this program, before “don't make assumptions,” eventhough I was very organized, I had a sense that everyone would naturally connect intheir communication. If by chance things didn’t go well (i.e. I had asked a volunteerto be somewhere at 9:30, they’d said yes, and then shown up at 10:15) I was alwaysbaffled. “Don’t make assumptions” has really become a broad principle for me, andhas informed the way I interact with individuals and communities who have access topotential resources.

People are more ok with emotions that you’d think, Kendyll – As a highly emotiveperson, I have in the past felt like I was more emotional/looked at the world through amore emotional lens than many people around me. Consequentially, over the years(in certain circumstances) I have become reserved with emotional displays and tend tofocus much of my emotive/creative energy on intuitive problem solving, and coming upwith very efficient systems.

This year I was very surprised at the level of positive response from young adults uponinitiating simple activities that seemed to me invitational of low-key levels of emotion,and interaction. One such exercise (something we did regularly) was the passing of acandle from one team-member to the next, along with an invitation to speak “1 wordfor where they found themselves that day.” Inevitably the team would respond with aNiagara Falls of heartfelt and honest reflection. There was no “1 word” about it – ever.The first time it happened, I remember thinking, “Oh, wow, they really like this.” AndI just couldn’t believe it because these were not individuals known for their gushingemotional displays or protracted reflections. But that really taught me that no matter howa person's countenance appears day-to-day, everyone needs a chance to integrate theiremotions into their experience of the world.

Everyone can be a leader (everyone) but not every role is suited for every person– Another phrase I would have read before this year and thought, “obviously that’s true,I don't need to learn that.” This year however, I really saw it in action and learned whatit means on the ground. Seeing Irmine Mode, Joseph Jean-Charles and Janell Duberry(I could go on) rise up into leadership positions has been so profoundly encouragingto me and has really reaffirmed that idea that everyone can lead. I still get chills on myspine when I remember how leadership at CHS told me I was wasting time with oneyoung woman - she simply wasn’t leadership material - too shy, too quiet, too afraid.Now she has now spoken publicly a half-dozen times, she’s just finished volunteering toearn her own cello, she has a good, stable job.

There was one point in the year though when I think I took that egalitarian ideal a littletoo far – I was convinced that everyone could do the same job (Recruiting, for example)regardless of their gifts/talents. I’ll be honest, I still have a large bent in that direction,but after this year it’s so clear to me that God created us to function as one Body withmany parts. Some team-members simply do not do well in a particular role, while theymay thrive in another. I think if we hold those two ideas in tension - everyone can lead,and we’re meant to lead as one body with many parts - we can do really incrediblethings.

LifeTogether worksite highlighted in Boston Globe

2010-07-19T11:39:00.000-07:00

The Dorchester Nazarene Compassionate Center (DNCC), a partner organization with a 2009-10 LifeTogether intern placement site, was featured in the Boston Globe this morning for its service to earthquake-stricken Haitians.

Intern Caroline Hunter worked as an English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) teacher at the DNCC through the Irish Immigration Center. She also worked as the IIC ESOL Program Coordinator this year.

Many reader comments on the article object to one of the Haitians profiled being given in-state tuition, arguing that illegal immigrants should not receive government benefits. What do you think? Write to caroline@diomassintern.org

For more information on immigration, refugee and asylum statistics, see the US Department of Homeland Security website.

Show up, fall down, love: a redemption

2010-07-18T22:00:00.000-07:00

Tis true, tis true, O Caroline,

the fault ascribed--alas!--is mine,

Though my honor may now be wholly spent,

In dust (and ashes) I repent

and do your trust again beseech,

begging forgiveness for my grievous breech.

Though now at risk of being thrice the liar,

I promise you what you require

By this night's end.

And if not by midnight then by one,

until the blaggard blog be done.

Till then, my long-forsaken dear,

though my verse be deadly...queer (?)

I importune your patience,

as you await your recompense,

And I await the restoration

of my once great reputation.

Most penitently yours,

Nicholas

-Nicholas Hayes, 6:05p.m., Sunday July 18 2010 to LifeTogether blog administrator in pursuit of his six-month-overdue post

The writing of this blog entry is something of a miracle. I’ve been committed to doing
a blog entry for LifeTogether since, I believe, the second week of January, and though reminded
regularly—at monthly intervals, at least—of my failure to make good on it, still I have
managed to evade my duty. At last, however, in the concluding week of the program,
conscience—and the concerted forces of Caroline, Waetie, and public shame—has
caught up with me. It may also be that as the program ends, I feel a natural need to
record some of my reactions. So, here I am.

Closing in on the final week of the program, many things—emotions, thoughts, regrets,
reminiscences—are coming up for me. (Since I’m an Enneagram 4, they’re all of course
of the utmost intensity, and all thoroughly tinged with melancholia). At moments I feel
overwhelmed by feelings of one kind or other, at other moments, almost frighteningly
numb. Within the cacophony, however, I’m surprised at persistent leitmotif, refusing
to stop trumpeting at me. I’m starting to think it may be the most important lesson
I’ve learned this year. Simply put, it reduces to this: love means not running away.

I was reminded of that on Tuesday, at our final SLAM Tuesday prayer meeting, as all of
us-- the SLAM house, Arrington, and John deBeer—sat gathered around our improvised
table made from a neglected door, spread with a wonderful, incongruous half-consumed
banquet of quiches and fruit salads, pastries and redundant yogurt. As the inevitable
food coma set in, John DeBeer broke the complacently falling silence to ask our house
whether we’d learned anything about the relationship between falling in love and loving.
Though I didn’t express it exactly in those words, the answer which came to me, with
surprising speed and certainty, was: love means not running away.

There were so many times this year when I wanted to run away. Some of them took
place right in those Tuesday morning prayer meetings, after the nice thrill of the “honey
moon” with intentional community was over. There were the mornings when I woke
up anticipating a conflict that I didn’t want to deal with, or those when I woke up afraid
(more deeply than I would have admitted) of being called out for not doing the dishes, or
those when I was just tired of showing up to these same people, so agonizingly different
from me at times, and plumbing the dwindling reserves of sympathy and attentiveness
week after week. The urge to run was intense, and often that meant running into my
head, into the future—or my imagination of it: checking out mentally. Why should I
have to care so much? I would sometimes wonder. “We’re not even together for a year.
We’re not family. Once this program ends, I’ll have no obligations. At the end of the
day, I don’t have to deal with this—what does it really matter to me? I can just move
on."

Yet I showed up to those meetings, and kept showing up. My housemates did too.
Showing up became our habit—our habitual choice—and we grew (mostly) to trust it,
even when we didn’t feel like it or want to, because at the end of the day there was
really no other genuine option, not if we cared for each other. And we did. So we didn’t
run away from each other: we showed up. That I wonder at, and will, I think, for a long
while.

There was also the urge to run from work. Man was that strong at times, particularly
around April 10th. There too I think of reluctant mornings, the mornings I’d wake up to
with a desire to simply stay in bed and forget—forget all the importuning emails and
meetings and phone calls. There was too much to do and too much to get wrong and
final failure seemed to be waiting for me just around the corner, grinning expectantly,
waiting to unveil to the world the rot underneath all my masks and fine performances.
Sometimes I did stay in bed, longer than I should have. But getting out became a habit.
Caring for my work, and the people I’d drawn into it, proved stronger than fear. So I
didn’t run away: I showed up.

I keep coming back to that as we prepare to take our leave of each other this week. In
spite of all the temptations to zone out, or begin forgetting prematurely, or to try and
convince ourselves that somehow this experience wasn’t as meaningful as we once
were so sure it was—we have to resist the urge to run away. We have to show up. I
have to show up.

Somehow, in spite of all the urges to act against it, feeling that sense of obligation alive
within myself is deeply joyful.

For the witness of my work, and the witness of my fellow interns in giving it to me--
Praise God.

~Nicholas

St. Stephen's Serving in New Orleans

2010-07-18T19:55:00.000-07:00

St. Stephen's in the South End, ever cultivating joy in service, recently went to New Orleans for a service trip with Church of the Redeemer Chestnut Hill. See a video of the trip from LifeTogether fellow Kathryn Kendrick below!

What is citizenship to a life of faith?

2010-07-08T20:36:00.000-07:00

Here are two interns' reflections upon the question: How are faith and citizenship connected?

"For me, God's call and good citizenship are one and the same. Jesus was all kinds of radical, but most radical of all was the way he lived and taught us to live: with the outcast, the enemy, and the unpleasant, as equals and as friends, sharing one table. A world at one with God is a world ruled by love, in which we cherish and challenge one another to live into our fullest potential as individuals and as humanity. If I am not a good citizen - if I am not living as though I am a member of creation, no more and no less than one voice in an incredible, complex and awesome universal chorus - I am not living into my birthright or my covenanted responsibility as a child of God and a follower of the radical Christ."

- Emilia Allen

Industry and Faith

work

machine

arms rotating, stop and go

this country is a workshop

each relationship a workshop

on industry

our love is free in its tinkering

stop and go, talk, rest, play

we are a machine

longing to be simple, to work

longing to find peace, to connect
we are a body
walk, breathe, leap, swallow, pace
our love is bound to a common biology of belief.
on joy
we meditate, found our lasting bonds
this country is a full dining room
elbows bump ribs as we move to rich dishes
body
peace

-Caroline Hunter

The Spiritual Practice of Trust

2010-06-19T16:03:00.000-07:00

By Kelsey Rice Bogdan

Last week I read an article in the Boston Phoenix about cycles of youth violence, and why they are so hard to break. In “Dead Kids”, author David S. Bernstein writes that youth who would not participate in violence under normal circumstances are drawn toward it in violent neighborhoods, out of a need to protect one’s self. The result is a dynamic “where the fear of violence ironically pushes adolescent boys to copy the same behaviors, and end up on the same paths, as those before them.”

This article especially hit home to me because of the impact two recent local shootings, that of 14-year-old Nicholas Fomby-Davis and 27-year-old Cory Johnson, have had on my communities. Fomby-Davis was a student at Dearborn Middle School, where Trinity Church has been organizing to turn the school around. I had assisted Johnson’s aunt as a lay worship leader only a few months ago when she preached at my Presbyterian church in Brookline. What struck me about the Phoenix article, in the context of these murders, was the fundamental role fear and mistrust plays in the ongoing violence.

Fear is in many ways fundamental to the human condition. I don’t talk about certain things with certain people because I fear rejection. Our country doesn’t have honest discussion about energy policy, immigration policy, or pretty much any policy these days, because we fear change and loss. And in some parts of our city, people kill because they fear being killed. And all of this fear affects each one of us. Slowly, bit by bit, the fear poisons us.

If I asked you to name the antidote to fear, you might respond with “hope.” But how do we live out hope? As our Hope in Action site here at Trinity Church stands poised to launch our college coaching program next week at Pathway Technology Campus in Villa Victoria, I find myself increasingly reflecting on the spiritual practice of trust as an expression of hope. If fear is born out of a basic level of mistrust, then trust becomes the ultimate counter to fear. Where mistrust leads toward dysfunction, the choice to trust opens us up to the interdependent life God intends for humanity.

I’ve been learning a lot about trust in my own life during the past few weeks. As I transition out of my position as a Relational Evangelist, I also prepare our Hope in Action community to carry on our work without me. I went on a short vacation a few weeks ago. The day before my return to the office, I realized with a sense of panic that I hadn’t done any work while I was gone. I had left all the work for others to do, leaving myself with no control over the process. And yes, I was afraid that nothing had happened.

And what did I find when I got back? Tara and Christopher had matched up our volunteers to students who needed their help in Villa Victoria. Laura had already planned out the next meeting agenda. Eric had made plans and requested volunteers for our kickoff event. The team had come together to do what needed to be done. And I heard a call to trust more fully in our community.

My impending departure from Trinity Hope in Action has made me realize more than ever that no matter how self-sufficient I am, I need a lot of help to accomplish the justice work that needs to be done. If I try to carry this whole project myself because someone else might not do it right, or not do it at all, then my mistrust limits the scope and impact of what we’re able to do.

As I practice trust, amazing things happen at Trinity. Last week we held two training sessions for our new coaches, which were well-attended and well-facilitated by Hope in Action volunteers. Next week, we will hold the first of two thousand coaching hours with adult learners. These sessions will increase Pathway Technology Campus’ capacity, allowing it to offer tutoring and life coaching services to adults, where they have never before been available consistently. This development is happening through the hard work of a team that trusts and supports one another to get the job done.

Admittedly, these are baby steps—they aren’t going to end youth violence immediately. But they witness to the way we’re supposed to live in relationship to our neighbors, ultimately turning the tide. Trusting can be difficult, and we shouldn’t naïvely do so. But in a world where our need to control destroys us, where our fear of one another kills innocent people in the street, it is time to cultivate the practice of relying on one another. Not only can it teach us more about how to live with one another in peace, but it can help us more fully lean into our fundamental dependence on a loving God.

Weekend of Service, Culture

2010-06-17T09:07:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by Diomass Intern Waetie Kumahia.

It was during Lent this year that I our entire group of Life Together fellows gathered to meditate and discuss what we would be giving up and taking on for Lent. One of the things that I decided to do was to restore my long lost habit of reading a blog called SomethingWithin.com. It is written for “Thinking Women of Faith” by the author, professor, and all around inspirational leader, Rev. Renita Weems. I think of her as a virtual friend in my head - someone whose opinions, expertise, and judgment reveal light on both the word of God and everyday current events. I discovered Rev. Weems on a search for integration of myself as a middle-class, first-generation, African-American woman. In searching to connect with a community of other women who follow Jesus, I sought to see what it looks like to bring all of ourselves and experiences into our reading of the Bible. Weems’ commentary has helped to challenge my consumerism, question the Black churches of America, and ultimately, expand my understanding of what a modern-day Christianity might look like in being lived. Commentary from her very astute readership on everything from world politics, and relationships, has allowed me to become enveloped into a circle of wisdom.

Perhaps one of the most important things I have learned from being a part of this blogging community is that for all of its social protection, and support for the African- American community, even those church communities have not been able to create anything like the perfect shelter that I imagined as a child. While for many years, I mourned the fact that my family and I were a part of a community where we were one of few families of color, the benefits of what I learned from this exposure would become evident later in life.

But, as a child of African immigrants whose culture already set us apart from African Americans, I imagined that a Black church would have made me more familiar with all of the various expectations and cultural codes that I always seemed to miss. Reading Renita’s work helped me to appreciate that each community has its own peculiar strengths and growing edges.

In college, I was amused and flattered by the many who mistook me as being from the Caribbean. There were a series of other events which fueled my curiosity interest in learning more about my people, the African people of the diaspora. My ensuing discovery of African interconnectedness led me to major in anthropology and to study abroad in Jamaica. At the same time, my desire to find a spiritual home led me to seek an even deeper connection with all things related to the cultural preservation of African heritages. My explorations included taking Haitian, Brazilian, and West African dance lessons. To this day, there is nowhere that I feel more in tune with a group of people than when I can leave my love of books and words to escape into a tactile, sweaty place where sharing love and creativity through dance is all that matters. There is a synchronicity that seems to quickly develop amongst people who are captivated by the deeper meaning behind the drum rhythms that roll rapidly off Jaiffar and Juju’s hands on any given night.

When I was asked to attend a conference at Sewanee, School of the South, in Tennessee, I saw it as another time where I would represent the Episcopal Service Corps and the Life Together Programs and then come home. I had prepared my notes for presentation, read up on all the various web sites so that I could answer specific questions, and then copied my handouts for the weekend. The part of me that had prayed on the flight, and had asked God to be with me and the participants, was clear that this would be a wonderful opportunity. I was clear that this would be a chance for these young adults of color to consider the possibilities for lay and ordained leadership in our church, and yet I was not expecting to be moved so personally my self.

But after arriving just in time for my presentation, Amaya, a young lady who I would find made sure that everything I needed was taken care of the entire time, began to minister to me and others while managing to take good care of herself as well. I soon learned that the conference would focus on six big sessions on:

Exploring Cultural Identity

Life as Mission

Discernment as a Spiritual Practice

Clarifying Questions

Exploring Our Questions

Living a Discerning Life

The most memorable session for me addressed our questions about how to build the church that we most want. Our leader and conference organizer, Jason Sierra, deftly helped gather people’s questions and complaints about the church into action plans, demonstrating and modeling what needs to happen to transform ourselves from those who remain observant in the pews into those who light our lamps and lead the way. As we took part in these activities, I could see the demeanor of the many participants change as they examined their own power and questioned any helplessness.

I am sure some went back to their communities to confront and challenge any feelings of isolation, but for so many of the participants who had generations of family members in their same church community, there was also a sense of true and solid Episcopal pride and a yearning to create even more progress.

As we jumped into the various exercises, I was pleasantly surprised that I would find such a deep well of generosity of spirit and a feeling of historical rootedness. In particular, as the group of people from the African Diaspora planned our contribution to the cultural share portion of the program, we were issued a challenge by Roxanna. Instead of breaking off into various countries and groupings, to make mini presentations that were based upon separate groups, such as, Ghanaians, Liberians, Jamaicans, and African-Americans, and then combining the presentation at the end, she asked the group to create something that could be presented as a 27 person unit. Yaw, our facilitator, and Darian, our note-taker, were exuberant about taking on this challenge and led us through the process with only a few bumps or snags that all ironed themselves out along the way. The end result was an inclusive and powerful exploration of challenging stereotypes about Black people using skits, song, and presentation. The other groups represented in the Cultural share were the Native Americans, several sub divisions in Asia, as well as a Latin American group, all of whom made varied and beautiful presentations, including video, dance, costumes, comedy, and power point.

Particularly moving to me was that several of the dances we participated in, gathered us into a circle, reminding me that there are many places to find the kind of spiritual community that might nurture me as well as my dance community has done in the past.

Later, we headed to service that truly brought together all of cultures into one for a period of time. This was the kind of service that I couldn’t have imagined as a child, but prayed might exist. I realized that I had never took part in an Episcopal Service where I didn’t stand out to myself, where I was just one in the number. During that service we sang in Lakota, we danced in the aisles, swayed and bowed, and even stood enveloped in silence. As we went forward to be smudged by a bundle of sage, the Holy Spirit moved us while we were covered in layers of smoke.

Over the course of this weekend, I did present information about the Episcopal Service Corps. We explored questions like: What does it mean to you to be an Episcopalian? What does discernment mean to you? What are some big decisions you’ve made in your life? How did you come to the decision that you reached? The answers were too great and varied to be shared here. But, more than my presentation, I think setting the resources and time aside for a gathering like this one will ensure that there are a significant number of people of color in the church taking on leadership in the future. And what stands out most to me is that we this weekend planted a big seed of possibility. It was an affirmation that the Episcopal church is a place where we all have the capacity to feel fully at home. Despite our few short days together, the House of God was established with force and power. I am convinced we all took this memory with us. All that is left is to use these models to build even more diversity and acceptance in the places we have come from. In building an Epsicopal church were we can all be at home, this is certainly one of the most important building blocks that any thinking person of faith could ask for!

Aside from the Main organizer of the Conference, Jason Sierra, names are changed to protect confidentiality of those present.

St. Stephen's Youth Sunday Service: "We will, with God's help."

2010-06-16T20:05:00.000-07:00

Over 50 young people participated in and led worship Sunday June 6 at St. Stephen’s Youth Sunday Service. Youth wrote and lead prayers, gave the sermon, served communion, greeted parishioners, played music, ushered, and sang to show that young people are alive and well in the church. Each youth was recognized by class and given an age-appropriate Bible. The Bibles were granted by the Massachusetts Bible Society.

Prayer for Peace

2010-06-10T20:17:00.000-07:00

LifeTogether Intern Kathryn Kendrick's placement site, St. Stephen's South End, is responding with organized prayer meetings through August to the loss of 4 lives in Dorchester this month. Check out the story on St. Stephen's blog.

Grace and service in the Episcopal Church

2010-06-08T03:58:00.000-07:00

Rachel Pattengill, Diomass Intern at Grace Church in Medford, contributed this post. She recently graduated from the seminary school of Nyack College.

A month ago, I was asked to speak at my old church in Nyack NY about the Episcopal Service Corps and the Micah Project; the following is what I shared:

Its a delight to be back here at Grace Nyack. This place has had a formative role in my faith journey. And its a privilege to be able to come and speak to you a little bit about that journey and the role that you all played in it.
In the late Spring of 2007 I was in a place of confusion about what sort of church I fit in. For many years I been part of an evangelical church, but that Spring I had been introduced to the Episcopal church here at Grace by my friend, Emily Wilkins, and so in this season of my life I found myself attending one church on one Sunday and a different church the next, alternating between my old evangelical church and here at Grace Nyack.
One Sunday during this time I left my apartment to head over to the evangelical church, and a girl from the building next to me ran up and asked if I could please drop her off at the mall, she was late for work. Sure I said, it was a little out of my way but I could do that. So I dropped her off and then got to the highway figuring I was running about 5 or 10 minutes late to the service - not a problem, I could just sneak in the back. So then I'm driving down the Palisades Parkway when all of a sudden I realize that I totally missed my exit! Oh well, I'll just take the next exit and wander the backroads until I find my church, it's OK I'll only be 20 minutes late, I'll still be in time for the sermon. As I approached the church, however, for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to make the turn into the parking lot. I found myself just driving past the church and pulling into a different parking lot at a nearby park, where I spent the next hour walking around thinking about why I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the evangelical church.
Some of the questions I was mulling over included: Why was I part of a church whose values were different from mine? Why was I still part of a church that didn’t affirm my call because of my gender? I was 25 years old and had spent most of those years dedicated to the evangelical church. And here I was in seminary preparing spend my life working for this church and I just couldn’t do it anymore. The thought of staying with that church brought me into a place of desolation. I just didn’t fit anymore; my values and my beliefs had changed over the years. And for the last year or so I had been going to the Episcopal church part time, thinking I was just taking a little vacation from the evangelical church, but now I didn’t want my vacation to end. I wanted more.
So now my question was, is the Episcopal church the right place for me? Is this a church I can see myself spending my life working for?
The following Sunday I entered Grace church not just as a temporary visitor, but as someone who was ready to seriously consider joining the Episcopal church.
For the next couple of years I was warmly welcomed into the community here at Grace. I met amazing people like Charlotte who greeted me every Sunday. And I met John and Mitch who invited me to be a part of the Adult Spiritual Formation committee, and Deb Adamy who let me help out with the senior high youth group and all those amazing teens. I got to help teach confirmation with Charlie Cross and Mother Emily. And I got to be part of the Acolyte team with Jeff and Pat and Cindy and Jeanette and Evelyn, whose joy in serving on the altar is infectious! I loved being a part of the community here. I felt that I finally found a place where I fit, here is a church that holds the same values of social justice and equality that I hold while also maintaining a deep reverence for the liturgical tradition.
In 2008, after I was confirmed, I started to think seriously about my future in the Episcopal church. I have felt called since I was 15 years old to dedicate my life to the church. So I started to talk with "Mother Emily" about the priesthood and she encouraged me to do an internship with the Episcopal Service Corps.
The Episcopal Service Corps is made up of 12 different programs throughout the States that provide young adults with opportunities to work for social justice, to deepen their spiritual awareness, to develop leadership skills through servant leadership, to discern their vocation and do all this while living a simple, sustainable lifestyle.
In the fall I joined the Micah Project, the Episcopal Service Corps (ESC) program in Boston Massachusetts. The Micah Project is one of two programs of the Diomass Life Together Internship. It is based on the passage in the book of Micah that says “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly before your God.” The program emphasizes spirituality, justice, discernment, and community. We live together in intentional Christian community, discerning our own vocational calls while serving the Boston area in social justice-related placements. We also work closely with the Relational Evangelists, a group of interns who are trained as faith-based community organizers with the intention of engaging more young adults in the mission of God by growing authentic community, deepening spiritual lives and making a difference in the world.
Micah Interns spend 30 hours a week working at a church or a non-profit site. We spend 8-10 hours a week in leadership training, spiritual reflection and vocational discernment. We also live in an intentional community where we eat and pray together 3 times a week and meet weekly as a house.
I spend my 30 hours working for Grace Episcopal Church in Medford MA where I participate in the life of the church, I help serve on the altar on Sundays, I help teach rite 13 and adult education on Wednesdays, I’m organizing a mission trip with the senior high youth group for the summer, I am part of the outreach and pastoral care committees, and I organized a campaign around hunger justice during Lent. I also work with college students at Tufts University, where we hope to restart a Lutheran-Episcopal Chaplaincy in the next year.

I have learned so much this year about myself and about what my purpose in this world is. I have learned that it takes all kinds of people to serve God.
I learned that we are meant for community, even when community is hard.
I learned that conflicts are an important part of relationships and the only way to become more intimate with one another is to work through those conflicts.
I have learned that it is better to work together and to empower others to use their talents and skills rather than trying to do things on my own.
Above all, I have learned that Episcopal church is where I belong. And I want to spend my life serving God and working for justice and peace in all that I do.
This program is something that I care a lot about - if any of you are interested in hearing more about it, or if you know anyone who would be interested in applying to these programs, I and my fellow interns would love to speak with you about it after the service. Thank you.

A Reflection on Glory

2010-06-03T19:16:00.000-07:00

This post is an abbreviation of a sermon given by Micah Intern Mac Stewart at St. Marks and St. Mary's Episcopal Church in Dorchester on May 16.

“Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.”

Glory. It’s one of those words that we hear a lot in church. We hear it every time we say the Lord’s Prayer: “for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever.” A commonly repeated phrase in our Book of Common Prayer is “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.” We just sang a few minutes ago the “Gloria”: “Glory to God in highest…” So we hear this word all the time in church. But not only here. The world outside of churches is pretty interested in glory as well. We love to see and enjoy big, beautiful architectural structures like Trinity Church in Copley Square, or buildings like Symphony Hall that ring with glorious music. I’m a huge sports fan, and I find this word used all the time in sports world. When my school, the University of North Carolina, won the national championship in basketball in 2005, the cover of Sports Illustrated the following week had a big picture of one of our players on the cover with the heading, “Return to Glory.”

So we think about this word often, in many different contexts, but given that we hear it so much in the context of church, many of us probably naturally associate the word as having something to do with God.

-We know that glory has something to do with beauty; and we say that God is the Beautiful One who is the source of all other beauty.

-We know that glory has something to do with goodness; and we say that God is Goodness itself, the One from whom all goodness flows.

-We know that glory has something to do with power; and we say that God is the All-mighty Creator who spoke and the world came to be.

In the Old Testament, this word is intimately tied to all the stories of the presence of God among the people of Israel. The glory of the LORD is the power that brings Israel out of Egypt. It’s the devouring fire that Moses enters to receive the commandments on top of the mountain. It is the goodness that is so good that Moses cannot look at it face to face and live. It is the weightinessthat demands awe, so that one cannot help but fall on the ground and worship in its presence.
And so with all these ideas floating around about where we often hear the word glory and about what this word might mean or what thoughts it might conjure up for us…with all of this in our heads, let’s turn to our lesson today from the Gospel of John.

The very first thing we notice when hearing this passage is the first five words: “Jesus prayed for his disciples.” Jesus is praying for us. And this is not just a quick blessing before dinner; this is the very last thing Jesus does before he is arrested, put on trial, and crucified. His last act, his last words before heading to the Cross, are this prayer. And then we look at what he is praying for. He prays a lot of things here, but there’s one thing in particular I want to draw attention to, the verse I started with: “Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.” To see the glory which Jesus had before the foundation of the world…What is this glory? Is this the glory of a beautiful sunset, of music that speaks to many souls at the same time? Is this the glory of the devouring fire on Mount Sinai, of the presence of God that leads the people of Israel through the wilderness?  “Father may they see my glory which you have given me because you loved me.” This is the glory of the love that the eternal Father has for the eternal Son, the love that a parent has for their precious child.

God says of Jesus: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” This is the glory of the sheer delight that two persons have in one another….the glory of a relationship….the glory of Love. That’s the new definition of glory, revealed in Jesus Christ. And my brothers and sisters, here is the good news: Jesus says to God: “the glory that you have given me, I have given them.” We are given a share in that glory, graciously, as a free gift, without cost or condition. We are invited into that relationship, into the love that the eternal Father has for the eternal Son. We are adopted into this life, the life of the Holy Trinity, as children of God. Jesus prays to his Father that “the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” The love of the Father in us. Jesus in us. This means that when God looks at us he says exactly what he says when he looks at Jesus: “This is my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.” Can we believe this? Can we believe that we exist for God’s delight? We are reminded of this every week at the Eucharistic table when we pray, “Holy and gracious Father, in your infinite love you made us for yourself…” That is what we are for. And that is good news.

Jesus prays that we would see his glory, and he shows us where that glory is found: in all the crucifixions of our lives. May the Love of Christ give us the strength to confront those places in our lives and in our world, and the eyes to see and the ears to hear the bright morning star that sings to us there, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has dawned upon you.”

A case of revival in Boston

2010-05-25T20:09:00.000-07:00

Hello, my name is Luke Dodge and I am an intern at Northeastern University Chaplaincy with Reverend Judith Stewart. This year I have worked closely with 5 Northeastern students on a leadership team to develop a partnership with an afterschool program that seeks to support Boston Public School students in their growth and learning. This year has been a great year, and I am excited to finish out the last two months solidifying this partnership, and celebrating the work done this year. Today I would like to share something that I care about, but is not exactly about my work at Northeastern as an intern for the Episcopal Church.

      Is there a revival coming to Boston? Revival is a word that is packed with excitement and eagerness for some, and for others it brings about feelings of misguided theology and maybe even oppressive manipulation. I don’t know how to define revival right now, and wish there was another word I could use because there are probably people that are already have sweaty palms by now hearing the word revival, so let’s just hold the term loosely and think positive thoughts. Let’s think about a more pure expression of the Love that exists in Jesus Christ, and through the work of the Holy Spirit. Let’s think about captives being set free, alcoholics depending on the Lord as their strength, and Bostonians smiling more. Let's imagine revival could mean a lot of things, some we probably don’t even know and God does. But let us not exclude that revival will mean more Jesus in Boston. It may be helpful to know just a bit about my faith before we dive in here so let me give you some background.

I believe I became a Christian when I was seven years old, and my Christian walk since that day has been largely made up of worshiping/growing in the evangelical community. When I seek God in my personal time I like to read the Bible, mostly the New Testament, pray from my heart, and invite the Holy Spirit to comfort me and empower me though my faith in Christ to do what the Lord has prepared for that day. When I seek God in community, I like to worship with lots of people by singing songs of praise, and moving my body to express that I love God. I am in awe of God during a liturgical Eucharist service, and consider this a new addition to my essentials for seeking my Heavenly Father, and his Son, Jesus the Christ. I share the details of how I worship to paint the picture of my faith. I guess I could say I am an evangelical Christian, but I don’t think that in this eclectic Christian society we can use simple words like evangelical to describe our faith, at least not for me. Oh yeah, a couple more things… I hate capitalism, I hate over-consumption, the prosperity gospel makes me want to puke, I think George Bush is an idiot, I don’t vote Republican right now, I am a member of Mass Environment, don’t use a dryer, and have not used a plastic water bottle in a while… and I think that it is ok, actually I think it is amazing, to tell people about who Jesus is. I say all this because for me it is good news that people can share the Gospel about Jesus, and care about something as relevant as the environment through their faith. Anyways, back to our question… Revival… Boston… 2010.

   "Hmm" One: During Lent young adults from around the country fasted and prayed for Boston. They prayed that our city would "know, love, embrace, rely on, and awaken to more of Jesus, and His promise of eternal life through faith in Him." The International House of Prayer University led this ministry and had 40 students come to Boston for Lent, and ended the 40 day fast with having over 300 students from the University come to Boston, pray for people in the streets, and hold five worship and prayer sessions, with a culminating service at a church on Tremont St. in the center of the city. This community continues to pray for Boston, and that God would come and show his Love for this city through the promise of Jesus.

   "Hmm" Two: Boston and New England are presently known to be some of the most secular areas of this nation, but this was not always the case. This region set the example for church planting and prioritizing Jesus. Harvard University was the first college in our nation and check out this quote -

"Let every student be plainly instructed . . . to consider well the main end of . . . life and studies is to know God and Jesus Christ which is eternal life . . . and therefore to lay Christ in the bottom, as the only foundation of all sound knowledge and learning."

-Harvard College Laws, 1642

The protestants came to Boston to have freedom to practice Christianity and see Jesus move, unhindered by a religion led by a government, and this was one of the most epic revolutions in the history of the world. This was what Boston started out as, and now we are identified with our secular ways. I think it would be cool to see God use this region to lead the way for our nation and how we might pursue the Christian faith.

"Hmm" Three: Phyllis Tickle has a lot to say about emergent churches and new expressions of Christian denominations. She has written a book that argues that we are in the midst denominational shift that happens every 500 years, where the Christian church… the whole Christian church, rethinks how we are pursuing God, worshiping, meeting, our ideals, our values, where we get our authority etc. So, that may get you thinking “Well, who is emerging, who is leading the way in this, where is this being seen?” She says it is difficult to know where the whole thing is going and which community is holding all these new ideals/expressions, but if there was a church doing this, it would be the Vineyard denomination. Back to Boston here, one of the largest Vineyard communities in our nation is in Boston, and is thinking of changing their name so that they can lead the way in what God may want to do through their unique community. A few things about this the Cambridge Vineyard: They invite the Holy Spirit to come and heal people every Sunday, they are welcoming to the LGBT community and make space for them to come to the church, they worship with praise songs and sing at the top of their lungs, and they practice lent as a church body by making a commitment for 40 days to take on a new practice to grow in their faith… as you can see this is a unique community. Oh yeah, it's in Boston. Do you see what I am saying here?

So, I do not have a clue whether there is going to be a “revival” in Boston. I don’t even know what I mean by revival... people deciding to follow Jesus or a different expression of church services. I don’t know if International House of Prayer University is a sketchy community, or a group of holy followers of Jesus. I don’t know much about what people think about Boston, or how many churches are in Boston today. I am unclear on some of the theology of the Vineyard and unsure of how Phyllis tickle would think of a revival in Boston. I am sure that when I hear revival I get excited. I am sure that Jesus has changed my life, and I want more people in Boston to know about Jesus. I am sure that this day we live in is unique, and I know the way we do church is changing. I am sure that if something is happening here in Boston, I want to be a part of it.

Luke

Discernment Days

2010-05-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by Kelsey Hanf, Micah Intern with Jubilee Ministries.

One of the unique features of the Micah Project is its commitment to discernment. As the Episcopal Service Corps website proudly proclaims, in a time when most are being asked “what are you going to do next year?,” they ask the bigger question: “who do you want to BE?” Discernment is a core theme in our life together, constantly being highlighted in our Friday training time together. From spiritual practices that allow us to go deeper into our faith and identity and learning communities that nurture our growth through the year to specifically defined “discernment workshops” that let us more deeply explore specific discernment methods, our weekly time together offers many opportunities for growth through discernment.

This Friday the Life Together interns were graced with another such workshop, a self-designed panel featuring individuals from throughout the diocese who offered both their stories and their advice. Much in the spirit of our own diversity of experience, gifts, and desires, the panel included people from a wide variety of backgrounds: a young priest and former filmmaker, a pediatrician who specializes in global health, the diocese’s vocational discernment officer, a former Carter administrator and current diocesan treasurer, and a young mother working in financial industry e-learning.

While the advice offered by the panelists- including one woman’s advice to “not think about what you want to be, but what you like to do”- was insightful, it was the stories they shared that shaped the character of the conversation. In a world where we are often told we must choose goals and pursue them, these stories reminded us that there is no straight path to our destinations. In many ways they invited us to explore the fact that having too strong a goal can in many cases prevent us from engaging in true discernment, from a real openness to what God truly wants for us in our lives.

I did not leave last Friday’s training with a better idea of what I want to do, or even of who I want to be. But I did leave with a greater respect for the journey and a greater peace regarding the winding paths that life will inevitably take. And if that is the one thing I take away from this year of Life Together, it will be enough.

Before April 10, 2010: "I would have said you are crazy."

2010-05-13T07:42:00.000-07:00

This post was written by Janell Duberry, leadership team member at Church of the Holy Spirit in Mattapan.

Hope in Action day on April 10, 2009, for me, was a success. It was beautiful to see how many people came out from each site to show their support for the campaign. We had a great location outside, which made the event open for everyone to see and hear what was going on. The day's Agenda was organized well. I loved the public narratives, Marshall Ganz gave an amazing speech, and the closing prayer from Bishop Thomas (who confirmed me three years ago) really ended the event the right way. I felt that time-management was one of the key things that made the day so successful. Whether it was welcoming people to the event, or helping with registration, guiding the guests through Trinity Church, or helping setting up lunches, everyone from each site pitched in to help keep to the day's agenda. This movement and this day’s event symbolized what Hope in Action is about. We were a group of individuals from different backgrounds and places working collectively to help make a difference.

For my particular site at the church of the Holy Spirit, I was happily surprised to see the number of members who came out to support us. Like everyone there, we could have been anywhere on a Saturday afternoon; we chose that to be at Trinity Church to show our support for economic justice. What I loved most about the day was the collective decision-making process and how each leadership team member facilitated their own small group. I was nervous because I had never facilitated before, but excited at the same time. It was amazing to see how everyone was engaged in conversation and respected each other’s ideas and opinions. I found it quite informative because some of the things that were mentioned, I wasn’t aware of. An example of that is that a majority the families of the students who attend the after school program do not attend the Church of the Holy Spirit. We touched on issues that we knew were problems like the lack of tutors - only one tutor for every ten kids.

We recognized the need for more activities like science workshops, the arts, dance, photography, etc. to keep the children stimulated, and I think it was the first time that we were really were able to hear feedback from the members. What their likes and dislikes were, what some of their concerns were and how we can work together to make our 'Youth with a Choice' tutoring program even better. What also made the experience so great was being able to put a name to the faces of people from church: people you see and may had said hi to but never really knew their names or had a conversation with. Another positive was that, unlike previous community organizing events I've attended this year, the decision making process didn’t feel rushed. We had time to have a really great dialogue between one another and everyone in the room appreciated it.

When I was first approached to be part of Hope In Action and to join the leadership team, my reaction was NO. I do not have time for this and do not want to be bothered. Then I attended the MLK campaign kickoff event, and seeing how passionate people were was contagious. This campaign showed me that I too could be a leader; that we all can take on leadership roles; and that we shouldn’t sell ourselves short. Being part of this movement required me to step far out of my comfort zone. Public speaking is a fear of mine. If you said that I would be getting up in front of hundreds of people and giving a public narrative, I would have said you are crazy. The campaign at times was stressful and scary but I am part of something that is bigger than myself, which gave me a sense of empowerment, pride, and purpose.

Hope and youth gather in April 10 rally for justice, equality

2010-05-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by Micah Intern Caroline Hunter.

On April 10, 2010, the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts had no class. Or at least it didn’t see class.

Or race, gender or sexual orientation.

The Diocese hosted the culmination of Hope in Action, its campaign to engage youth in working for economic justice in Boston, on April 10. Several hundred people gathered in front of Trinity Cathedral in Copley Square for the event, which included a discussion of how to use the campaign’s resources; live music performed by a group of the Diomass Interns; and a speech given by community organizing veteran and lecturer in Public Policy at the John F. Kennedy School of Government, Marshall Ganz.

Although hispanic, black, asian, white, straight, gay, poor, wealthy, young, old, religiously active, atheist, New-England-native and many-other-locale-hailing individuals were present, these distinctions paled next to the passion for economic justice exhibited by the group as a whole.

At the event, teams from seven churches and universities around Boston committed and decided how to apply 1% of their time and/or money this year to social justice projects of their choice.

Examples of 1% commitment projects to be launched are: renewing the library of the Blackstone Elementary School in Dorchester, advocating for education reform in the Boston Public Schools, and mentoring Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender youth in Waltham.

The Hope in Action campaign is part of a pilot youth and social action initiative in the Episcopal church called the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project. One young adult Relational Evangelist from each of the seven project sites has recruited a leadership team in which they practice ongoing discernment about their values and goals as a group. April 10 represented the intersection of the campaign’s different threads of justice work. For more about the event, see this article about Hope in Action on the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts website.

Phone-a-thoning to the Finish Line

2010-05-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

This update was contributed by Kendyll Hillegas, Relational Evangelist at Church of the Holy Spirit in Mattapan.

This week at Church of the Holy Spirit, as the Leadership Team transitions from "Full-Flung Campaign" to "What on Earth Do We Do With All of the Volunteers We've Recruited?" mode, we're preparing for a phone-a-thon. Over the 11-weeks of the Lenten campaign, we recruited 46 1% -'timers' (our definition for folks who are giving 1% of their time for 1 year).

During our phone-a-thon on Sunday May 2, we plan to line up all Leadership Team members (and some other young adults from the congregation) with cell phones and chargers in hand, and hit (most importantly) that list of 46 "timers" to invite them to a Volunteer Orientation and Celebration day that we'll hold at CHS on Saturday May 15. Then, we'll also call our "financiers" (you can probably guess what that stands for - the folks who are giving 1% of their income) and give them the final info on where to send the checks. And that's the news from CHS!

Hope Moves Into Action

2010-04-12T19:34:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by Relational Evangelist Kelsey Rice Bogdan.

Seven months ago, as the long-delayed summer of 2009 finally brought Boston the hot and humid days for which summers in Boston are known, a group of enthusiastic, hopeful interns gathered in the undercroft at Trinity Church, Boston for training in community organizing. Both Trinity’s undercroft and community organizing were unfamiliar to me then, but would later become central to my day-to-day life. And while it took me months to fully understand some of the skills and strategies we learned in those warm August days in Trinity’s basement, one thing was clear—on April 10, 2010, we eight community organizers were to bring 500 people to an event that would signal their commitment to economic justice and the overall impact of our campaign.

So it was fitting that on April 10, we would once again start the day in the undercroft at Trinity Church, this time to welcome hundreds of people to our celebration and action on Copley Square in the heart of Boston. The cold winter days between August and April had been full of small victories—young adults growing in their leadership capacity, congregations revitalized by the energy and passion of their younger members, greater awareness of the entrenched, systemic economic inequalities in our city. There had also been struggle and frustration. But on April 10, a pervading sense of hope eclipsed all of that. As the sun shined down and signs of returning life surrounded us in Copley Square on Saturday, I felt hope that perhaps we could address the injustices in our city. Hope that people really did care about standing in solidarity with those in need. Hope that God really is at work in our efforts.

And for me and my colleagues in the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project, hope that this event would be a successful end to the task our leaders—Rev. Arrington Chambliss, Kate Hilton, Jason Long, and others—had handed us back on those humid training days in August. But no sooner had our Trinity community made its decision to support adult learners in Villa Victoria through academic coaching than people began approaching me to ask, “What’s next? What are we going to do now? When will we meet again?” I realized then that April 10, far from being the end of the Hope in Action campaign, was really just a transition into another phase. On April 10, we did celebrate the close of one chapter, but we started another as well. Our Hope in Action event signaled a shift from hope into action, talking into doing.

What Saturday taught me is that justice isn’t like the term paper I wrote about mentoring last year, or the development consulting work I did for a faith-based nonprofit a few years back. Those were finite projects, tasks that I could finish and move on. The struggle for justice, on the other hand, has no starting and ending date, no term paper to signal that you’ve completed it and can take on the next challenge. The work for justice keeps drawing us further and deeper, into more complex challenges and new understandings. It constantly draws us into action, reflection, and further action based on that reflection. It is a lifetime pursuit.

In this, justice work parallels the journey of faith. If we’re really honest with ourselves, we rarely “solve” the great questions about God and move on. We sit with them, wrestle with them, live into them. We are always searching for God, but what we end up finding is ourselves—our vocation, our purpose, our way of acting in the world as a response to God’s love. And if justice is one of the characteristics of God, one of the realities God desires for the world, then it makes sense that justice won’t be complete on April 10 or any other day. We will work, learn, and grow in the pursuit of justice until the day when God makes all things new.

So for me and my fellow Relational Evangelists, it’s time to get back to work and begin converting all that hope of the past seven months into action. We are only just beginning!

A Letter to Judas Iscariot

2010-04-03T07:11:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by Caroline Hunter in response to Matthew 16:47-27:6.

Dear Judas Iscariot,
     If only you had never repented, you wouldn't have had to hang yourself. You wouldn't have been advised to carry out self-retribution by those whose protection enabled your sin. Your wouldn't have felt the weight of your soul-friend's heart as he learned that you had left him alone to face violent crowds.
     Judas, your worst sin was not when you betrayed Jesus to the authorities, but that you did it with a heart that was still half-living. How dare you invite others into your life when it contained such corrosion? Why didn't you live alone, with no friends, no goals, no political connections with which to kill those whom you claimed to love? If you hadn't betrayed Jesus, somebody else might have, but it didn't have to be you!
     You, who said "Not I, Lord?" in the company of all the disciples, who had learned of a new way to live with your humanity and without violence, who had been a source of hope and joy for others. You gave yourself to darkness before another person had the chance to be born as light into your life.
      What made you believe that Jesus was an obstacle to your safety, to a life of kindness to yourself? What weird visions did you see as the threat of death began to dance circles around you? Did you accidentally stumble away from yourself before waking up in horror and repentance? Was there a part of you saying in tears all along, "Not I, Lord?"
   I cannot imagine the moment you realized that your betrayal had been neither necessary nor something for which there was a place in Jesus' Kingdom of God. I think of my own failures in faith: I believe that my future will be dark and strange even though my Father has promised to guide me; I see people as what they hold against me instead of for the kindness they have to offer; I refuse to look at myself in the mirror in order not to see my unashamed enthusiasm for life. I find comfort in burying my sins alone rather than admitting them to an unknown authority. I plot against Jesus' life with you, Judas, so that I won't have to open my heart to a world that has unconsciously torn me apart so many times.
       Judas Iscariot, show me how it is good to repent. Show me how to keep looking for my Father in life and in death. Will you help me when I come to see all of the life I could have saved by believing? Let me not wonder with you, "Where have I gone?" Save me, as Jesus must have saved that part of you still saying "Not I?" after your body had died hanging from a noose. Let me be human, rather than an artificially preserved soul in a sterile, modern world. Judas, give me courage to love this fleeting, imperfect life.

Yours,
Caroline Hunter

Thy Kingdom Connected

2010-03-27T12:20:00.000-07:00

This post was contributed by LifeTogether intern Justin Harvey.

About a month ago, we had a spontaneous dinner party at our house, which started with one person getting coffee with us and ended up with seven of us in our home, eating soup, drinking beer and having great conversations. There was August, the guy who works at the grocery store in our village square and whom we befriended; there was Stephen, the realtor who got us our apartment when we moved to Boston and whom we’ve become good friends with; then there were Luke and Martha, a few coworkers of Skye’s at the bakery she works at, and one of their friends… During it all, I thought to myself, “Ohh so this is how networks work.” Every person there had come into our lives in a different way, but all of them were connected; the apartment we live in, the neighborhood we live in, the jobs we have, the local businesses we frequent.. they’re all connected! And this network, the random-yet-connected gathering of folks gave birth to life – good conversation, laughter, sharing of stories – all of which are life giving practices. Experiences like that make you stop and think: what if this is how life – how church - is supposed to be?

The reason that networks are on my mind – and the reason a question like that is particularly on my mind – is because I’m reading through the new book by one of my professors from grad school, “Thy Kingdom Connected” by Dwight Friesen. Dwight highlights that life is really all about networks, and challenges us to view the earth, our cities, our neighborhoods, and yes, the church, through a new network-lens. He does this by looking at and weaving together elements of network theory, the physical sciences, and theology, which might sound overwhelming, but I found it very accessible. One of the ways Dwight helps us see leaders as connective is in what he calls "the parable of Google." When you or I go to Google, we rarely go there for Google's sake: we go there to find links, to discover other places on the web. If you think about it, it's quite remarkable. Their success lies in their ability to connect you and I with the information we are looking for, but Google doesn't generate content, they link us with those who do. Google possess no authority over us other than that which we give it; instead, Dwight says, " its authority is earned through consistently serving its users by giving away the very connections it has." We have come to trust Google. But the moment Google no longer connects us in the ways we need, we'll find another site that will do that for us. The church, then, has much to learn about this kind of connective leadership, as it's leaders "humbly serve those connected to them, linking them to others even at great personal cost."

I highly recommend you pick up a copy of his book. It’s already reshaping how I see life, including incidents like the one above.

Grace Church Medford Hosts Lenten Food for Thought Campaign

2010-03-24T21:06:00.000-07:00

In the fall Grace Church Medford’s Priest-in-charge, Noah, and the Junior Warden, Linda, approached me and asked if I would use the tools I’ve learned through the Hope in Action community organizing training to organize a church-wide campaign on hunger issues. I immediately began the groundwork. I started having 1:1s with parishioners, looking for people to help me organize this campaign as well as for the resources that we have in our church and in the community. Working with a team of leaders, we started reaching out to local food pantries and soup kitchens, asking them about their ministries and what kind of help they would need from our church. We then reached out to local agencies who work with the hungry and food insecure to find ways to partner with them. By January, the “Food for Thought” campaign was just about organized.

The purpose of the Food For Thought Campaign is to unite the Grace Church community in a fight against the injustices of hunger. The goal is to help eradicate hunger in our local community by giving generously of our time and resources. We will continue to share the compassion of God through our service to others.

On Sunday February 21st we kicked off the campaign with a luncheon and panel discussion after our 10am service. The panel included volunteers from three local food pantries and soup kitchens, St. Luke’s, St Francis, and the Unitarian Universalist Church of Medford. After the discussion, we asked everyone to make a commitment to participate in this campaign through volunteer work, financial donations, or donations of food.

We began a food drive with the goal of raising 144 boxes/bags of food, enough to fill the stage in our parish hall full of food. Families were asked to fill a box or bag each and bring them in. Volunteers would later help bring the food to different food pantries. Other volunteers would help serve food in those food pantries and soup kitchens.

On Wednesday evenings we began a Hunger Justice series. Our first and third speakers were from Project Bread. They spoke to us about what food insecurity and hunger looks like in Massachusetts and the different programs available to help alleviate and eventually end hunger. Our second speaker was from Episcopal City Mission. He spoke to us about the difference between charity work and justice work in addressingpoverty. His presentationalso helped us to start to think of what we can do as a church to address hunger and food insecurity on a systemic level. And This week we will have speakers from The Food Project and Gaining Ground who will speak with us about community supported agriculture.

The youth have learned about hunger issues during Sunday school and gone on tours of local food pantries as well as had the opportunity to volunteer at a soup kitchen. A group went to Over Look Farm and learned about hunger in other countries. And a group of our teenagers will be going on a mission trip to New York City to work at food pantries and soup kitchens with the Youth Service Opportunity Project.

The campaign (which ends on Easter Sunday) has been a great success so far. As a church we have learned so much about hunger and are finding more and more ways in which we can get involved to eventually end hunger in our community. For more information about what Grace Church is doing, please check out our blog.

St. Stephen's South End participate in Diocesan Youth Event

2010-03-17T17:20:00.000-07:00

posted by Kathryn Kendrick, Micah Intern at St. Stephen's South End
also visit http://ststephensbos.wordpress.com/

St. Stephen’s brought 8 people to the Sr. High Retreat at Barbara Harris Camp February 5-7. This was our first overnight Diocesan event, and it was AMAZING! We had 4 girls, 2 boys and 2 chaperones participate in fun and fellowship with youth from all over Massachusetts in Greenfield, New Hampshire. We had more than 100 people representing over 15 parishes from the diocese, including Our Savior Somerset, St Mark’s Burlington, St Barnabas’ Falmouth, All Saints’ Chelmsford, St Stephen’s Lynn, Christ Church Andover, Old North Boston, St James’ Amesbury, Trinity Weymouth, and a bunch of kids from Youth Leadership Academy (YLA) from all over the place. The theme was “Zoom-Out” which focused on taking a broader view of our lives and ministry in the world. The retreat was largely run by the Diocesan Youth Council, comprised of youth from all over the Diocese, who shared their stories, organized worship, led small groups as well as other games and activities for the weekend. St. Stephen’s youth actively participated in worship, small groups, team building games, basketball, singing, dancing, yoga, hiking, journaling, and eucharistic bread making. It was a fantastic weekend that inspired youth to strengthen their relationship with God and one another. We look forward to upcoming events with the diocese and have begun planning our own youth-led service at St. Stephen’s!

“While I was on the retreat I met some great people! People I wouldn’t have met if I didn’t attend the retreat. What I loved the most was the strong vibe between everyone. I was comfortable with expressing my feelings during the bible study and during the small groups. I also enjoyed the band “Attaboy” their music got me going! I had a wonderful time and I can’t wait to work at BCH this summer!” –Atiera, St. Stephen’s

“I liked being at BCH because it was out of the city. It was so quiet and I could actually see the stars. We played basketball and I did yoga for the first time. The program and small groups were easy to relate to because they were led by young people my age. I would love to be on Diocesan Youth Council and I can’t wait to go back next year.” Michael, St. Stephen’s

A honeymoon, Haiti and Chile

2010-03-17T15:27:00.000-07:00

Thanks to diomass intern Waetie Kumahia for this post.

It is was a Sunday in 2002, and I was feeling fresh-faced and
inquisitive about everything in New Orleans, Louisiana and the
potential to move there for a teaching opportunity at the Isidore
Newman School. My research had told me that the House of Blues
Gospel Brunch was one place to prioritize during my visit, and the
passion and beauty of the worship that morning made it so none of us
listeners wanted to leave. When we did pour out of that sacred
building and into the humid streets, I left with the desire to reach
out further to the city that had so quickly embraced me. But, as I
began to talk to mothers, gamblers, and restaurant owners about their
experiences living there, many cautioned against my decision to move. One
elderly woman warned, “Those who make it here, usually strive to get
out”. Or I was told how the combined effect of dependency on tourism
and the lack of any restrictions around the opening and closing of
bars made it so that the local man, with three children and bills to
pay, could gamble his life away at any time of night. It was not hard
to see how all of this could be prohibitive to the city’s
infrastructure and social ties. In the end, my decision to move back
to Boston for another opportunity was only partially tied to these
admonishments, but they did stay with me.

Three years later, I thought of those words and the people of
Louisiana on the morning after my wedding day. It was raining heavily,
and my husband and I had awoken in our hotel with great plans for our
honeymoon and a future that we prayed would be marked by blessings
and favor. Yet, when we turned on the television that day, and for the
remaining five days of our honeymoon, the tragedy and mayhem of black people, marooned and suffering, was always within view. Our horror and guilt as we sat-- passively, thinking about the cost of our lavish affair and how it might have been used differently ---all
of this was palatable in the seemingly acrid taste of our dinners by
candlelight. The memory of these times are etched in with the early
days of our young marriage as we both realized that the honeymoon was truly over and real marriage, and real life had begun.

And here we are in a week like this, where we watch our neighbors flee for shelter from the rain on Monday, where we complain that our basements are flooded, and my husband and I are curled
up safely in bed at night. Here we are thinking about Haiti, thinking about Chile, and thinking about our mortgage. I am wondering what more I can do aside from sending a text to the Red Cross. I think about those people who drive around with bumper stickers that say, “What would Jesus do?” I think, in this case, I know, but in the din of my responsibilities and personal life, Waltham seems as far away as Haiti. Not a day goes by during this year of service where I don’t realize
how much bigger and greater God’s plans are for me than what I
imagined at 22 while walking the streets of New Orleans. Today, as I
discern my next steps, I pray that my heart and mind will be open to
the irony and unpredictably of the next leg of my journey.

BOOM! We are Christ's Body

2010-02-26T05:32:00.000-08:00

Below is a sermon given by Micah intern Tyler Bridge at The Crossing. It was written in response to Luke 4:14-21.

Luke 4:14-21

Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me: to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives: and recovery of sight to the blind,; to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Initially when I hear this story I want to say, “Boom! That’s my Jesus!” I want to run around proclaiming to everyone how awesome Jesus is. I want to say, “Did you hear that? Christ is the Messiah. He’s going to bring good news to the poor, release the captives, restore sight to the blind, and let the oppressed go free.” But then I begin to dig deeper. I remember that as Christians we are called to not only admire and follow Jesus, but we are called to be like Christ; we are called to be Christ’s body.

      I hear that a lot these days. “We are Christ’s body.” And I find myself asking, “What the heck does that mean?” And it wasn’t until recently that I was able to answer this question for myself.

      I am a small-town West-Texas boy working for the Diocese of Massachusetts in an internship program that holds intentional community living as a key component. I have been thrust into a house with 6 other interns, and we are expected share our space, our time, and our emotions with one another. (Does this sound like Episcopal Church reality TV show to anyone else?) Every Tuesday morning, rain or shine, happy or sad, awake or asleep, we have a meeting to discuss our community. What is going on, what is going well, what is not going so well, who is overcome with joy, who is angry, who can’t stop laughing, and who is steeped in sadness? (You know the questions one usually gets asked on Tuesday mornings.)

      One Tuesday I had had a particularly difficult week both as an individual and as a member of the community. It was the week before Thanksgiving, and I had just returned from the rather difficult funeral of my grandmother, Memaw is what we called her. My Memaw played no small part in my development both as a person and most importantly as a Christian, and dealing with her death and funeral was enough to inundate me with sadness. But going home to Texas is also something that brings me a lot of pain, and on this trip not only did I have to endure an alter call at the funeral service of my beloved grandmother, but also my mother and the pastor of her church telling me that I should really take a “serious look at my faith, and that I should reevaluate my personal relationship with Jesus Christ.” These weren’t words of encouragement. Quite the opposed in fact, they said all this because they fear that the way I choose to practice my Christianity is a perversion, and they think I am missing the mark because I don’t have in their eyes a “personal relationship with Jesus Christ”

     And that’s where I was sitting on a plane, flying back to Boston, questioning my faith, and realizing that the person that had been my spiritual guide for the past 25 years was not longer on this Earth. I came into our community meeting that Tuesday feeling detached, lonely, and broken, and our time together reflected that struggle. As I looked around the room, it was like the members of my community had each been facing similar challenges of individual and community life as well. We needed a sign, we needed love, we needed healing, we needed Jesus, and we got it. We gave voice to our pain, we sat together, we cried together, and with the help of each other we were able to overcome our fear, our loneliness, our brokenness, and at the close of our meeting, as I sat with tears in my eyes, feeling totally reconciled both with my community and with God, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I ceased see specific individuals within my community, but I realized that all I saw in their faces was the face of Jesus. That’s what it means to have a “personal relationship with Jesus Christ,” and that’s what it means to be Christ’s body.

      I see Christ here in the life of this diocese as well. I hear Christ’s voice when Jamie leads us in the full-bodied worship experience of song. I feel Christ’s footsteps when we gather together hundreds of youth from all over eastern Massachusetts at the Barbra C. Harris camp and conference center for the High School Youth and the Pre-Confirmation retreats to learn about and explore our faith, and we spread out over the entire Jack Dorian Center and dance to our hearts content, I see Christ’s hands in the work of the Hope in Action campaign, a campaign lead by the young adults of the Diomass intern program, and I feel Christ’s open heartbeat in this community today. A community that is willing to throw open your doors to me and Jamie and Rev. Steph to live and share and expand our faith through our common bond of Jesus Christ our Savior. I recognize Christ in all of these things because I recognize Christ in all of you.

      In this story Christ is the one who is going to change the world, but do we just sit at home and let him do it alone? I think the answer is a resounding, no. We are Christ’s body, and if we expect him to reconcile this broken world then we are going to have to mobilize his hands and feet. We are the ones called to bring good news to the poor, we are the ones called to release the captives, restore sight to the blind, and let the oppressed go free.

      We are Christ’s body. We are the ones called to do God’s work on Earth, because we are called to be like Christ in everything we do, everyway we do it. So imagine you are Jesus in this story, you are handed the scroll, you get up to read, and when you are finished you sit down with all eyes fixed upon you, and you say “I am like Christ, and I will fulfill scripture with my life.”

Finding worship in play

2010-02-25T17:36:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by LifeTogether intern Mac Stewart.

The other day, I came across this passage in a book I am reading:

“Worship can be seen as the explicitly religious form of play. Worship may possibly be experienced as an island of rest on a working day; it may possibly be experienced as a bout of labor on a day of rest. But it will be best experienced as the resolution of work and rest in play. It will then be genuinely re-creation.”

Worship is religious playfulness. I love that idea. For one thing, the idea seems to tie together nearly all of the themes that have, this year, taken hold of my walk with God in the world. To be playful requires you to be present, to be aware of who and what is going on around you, to be mindful of this moment without the conscious interference of guilt over what you have or haven’t done or anxiety over what you “ought to be doing.” It requires you to be in this moment with joy, knowing the simple pleasures of skipping rocks on a river, or playing catch with your dog, or belting out your favorite hymns at the top of your lungs to the chagrin of your intentional community housemates (e.g., “One Bread, One Body”). As the passage suggests, play can become a place of appropriate balance or rhythm within the repetitive cycle of work and rest. Above all, playfulness embodies a posture of gratitude: thanks and praise for the sheer gift that we exist.

The more immediate reason that this passage stuck with me, however, is because my work at the moment has me thinking about play. The church in Dorchester at which I find myself (as a Micah Intern) is attempting to install a new playground to replace our old “playground” (a wooden swing set with rotting wood and zero swings). As I speak with playground vendors and try to raise support from partner churches for this project, I can’t help repeatedly returning in my head to the question, “What good is a playground going to do for kids in such a poor neighborhood? They need education for a future, not a place to waste time on a jungle gym.” A perfectly legitimate question (and, incidentally, our church also has in the works an SAT prep tutoring program). But I think, with inspiration from the author quoted above, the following counter-question might serve as strong motivation for me taking this project as seriously as any SAT prep course: “What good is a future without a place to play.”

"doing the dishes..."

2010-02-16T19:32:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by Justin Harvey, The Crossing's Diomass Intern.

Washing dishes is one of those mundane tasks that we all face sooner or later. Some love it. Some hate it. I would venture to say the majority of people try to avoid it. Working at coffee shops for the past few years, I did a fair share of dishes on a daily basis. One day while wiping a dingy towel through another coffee mug, this Scripture passage came to mind, and I now cannot wash dishes without thinking about these words in Luke 11:37-41:

"When Jesus had finished speaking, a Pharisee invited him to eat with him; so he went in and reclined at the table. But the Pharisee, noticing that Jesus did not first wash before the meal, was surprised. Then the Lord said to him, “Now then, you Pharisees clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside you are full of greed and wickedness. You foolish people. Did not the one who made the outside make the inside also?"

And here’s where his words hit hard (for this reader at least):

"But give what is inside the dish to the poor, and everything will be clean for you.”

I won’t attempt any commentary on this passage at the moment, because it gives me so much to ponder. I do, however, welcome your thoughts, dear friends, on how this speaks to you. And maybe the next time you are doing the dishes, you’ll join with me in pondering these words of our Lord.

2010-02-12T16:59:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by Relational Evangelist Waetie Kumahia.

One of the wonderful opportunities that has come with this year of service is the opportunity for deep thinking and listening. As we have slowed down to examine the intricacies of how we build and sustain communities, we have been guided by our belief in the power of God in the midst of our relationships. Most recently, several of us attended an MIT conference sponsored by Trinity Wallstreet, and hosted by MIT Chaplain, Rev. Amy McCreath. The conference, Building an Ethical Economy, was organized by MIT's Technology and Culture Forum, and helped us look at both micro- and macro- examples of what this work can look like. I was particularly challenged by our charge to examine how our entire use of money reflects our true priorities. It was clear that many of us could imagine ways we could better align our spending with God's will for our communities. This has become especially clear in the midst of the crisis in Haiti. Everything we discussed during the conference has been great inspiration for me as I am planning my sermons for the congregations of St. Mary's in Dorchester and Christ Church in Needham this week.

And, as we prepare to enter the season of Lent, I am more committed to examining the things and patterns of consumption that have the potential to separate me from other people and my God. When I was making my New Year's resolutions, these ideas were not first and foremost in my thoughts. Instead, my work with young adults in Dorcherster, Bunker Hill Community College, and our church communities was pushing me to see the greater power of acts of service when we do them together. But these efforts are now reminding me of a book I read at the beginning of the year: The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical , by Shane Claiborne, a book that was a gift to all of the Life Together interns. At the time, reading this book seemed fantastic, like a romantic series of events in the life story of someone completely touched and directed by God. Turning back to this text now, having learned what I have learned, experienced what I have experienced, it all seems a little more within reach. Not because it seems any easier, but because I realize that it is only me (and my desires for comfort) which take me away from a life that looks more like a continuous fellowship with others.

So, what about you? Are you struggling on the path? Or if you have figured something out about how to move forward on this path? If so, please feel free to share what you have figured out! Thanks for Reading, WK

Consider this your sign

2010-01-19T20:22:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by Micah Intern Ben Whaley. It is a sermon he gave on Thursday, January 14 at The Crossing worship community in downtown Boston.

So… I have a ritual of doing holy reading each week. And I do it on Saturday nights, just before I go to bed. And you might be thinking that I do this reading then to prepare myself spiritually for church on Sunday mornings, but no.. I do this reading then because that’s when Post Secret updates.

Post secret is a community art project that allows folks to mail in post-card sized secrets and confessions to this artist who posts them on his blog on Saturday nights. Sometimes the secrets are funny, sometimes they are intimate and painful. But this week I was especially moved by a post card that wasn’t a secret at all. It simply said “This is whatever sign that you need it to be. Good luck.”

I don’t know about you guys, but I often find myself looking for a sign. I remember a year ago now I had just graduated from college with a degree in theatre and no idea what to do with it. I loved the kids I worked with as a youth minister, but that wasn’t a full time job and I really had nothing else to do with myself. I was standing around with my hands in my pockets, constantly praying, “What next?” and waiting for God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit to give me the answer. Little did I know the answer would come from my friend Clay. He suggested I do this thing called the Micah Project. And here I am in this internship, living in an intentional community and serving the young people of St. Peter’s/San Pedro in Salem. I’m finding myself really filled by the work I’m doing – mentoring, advocacy, community organizing. But I also know it’s temporary. I’ve got about six months left in the program, and then I have no idea what’s next. I am exactly where I was a year ago today, asking for a sign.

And as I started working on this reflection, that question wouldn’t let me go. And I heard that question echoed in Jesus’ voice as he sits at the table arguing with his mother about his future.

Woman, it’s not my time yet, Jesus says. I’m not ready. What is Jesus waiting for I wonder? Is he hoping to have a little more time to prepare before he has to go to work? Does he have a plan all set for his entry into ministry? Is he waiting for a sign? And why does he change his mind and decide to take his first step here?

Here he is a guest at his friends’ wedding - two people who are in serious danger of being shamed. To run out of wine at their wedding celebration would be a serious embarrassment. But, like Jesus says, why should that matter to him? Remember, this is the first miracle we’re dealing with. Up until this moment, Jesus hasn’t done anything crazy. He hasn’t said anything radical. Sitting at that table with his friends, he’s just an ordinary guy and he could very easily choose to continue living a normal life, according to his plan. He could go back to Nazareth and be a carpenter. He could wait for a moment when the properly applied miracle would gain him hundreds or thousands of followers in a single moment.

And so Jesus has a choice to make – is he going to follow the plan that he has and wait for the opportune moment. Or is he going to use the power that he has to help the people that need him?

I think about the way we choose to respond to the needs of those around us.

I think of the pain of our brothers and sisters in Haiti as they wrestle with the aftermath of this earthquake and I am moved by how quickly we as a diocese are mobilizing ourselves to support them. But it seems like in times like these there can hardly be a question – what we can give, we do.

I don’t think the choices are always that clear in our day to day lives. You don’t always get a phone call from a friend saying “Go to Boston!” Sometimes, like Jesus, you just have to take the first step. Even when the calling seems inconvenient or ill-timed.

What call have you been putting off?

What’s holding you back?

Are you looking for a sign?

Well, consider this whatever sign that you need it to be.

Phyllis Tickle brings generosity, rich understanding to LifeTogether visit

2010-01-15T14:40:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by Micah Intern Natalie Finstad.

She may have titled herself a “one-trick pony” but those of us who spent the afternoon with Phyllis Tickle, author of The Great Emergence know this demarcation is deceiving. Filled to the brim with knowledge of polity, history, science, and philosophy – Phyllis came to teach us much more than just “one trick.” Guided by the Spirit, she bore news of a movement currently transforming the church. She came, not to “endorse” this movement but to share her “observations,” additionally she shared with us her soul.

Her soul was beautiful. In my years working with the church I have met many people, rarely do I encounter a person as authentic and graceful as Phyllis Tickle. Her wealth of knowledge – overwhelming to us novices– rolled off her tongue like nursery rhymes. In addition to her knowledge she had a grace about her that made you feel loved. Through all her learning and teaching and writing and traveling – she has not lost sight of the goodness of God which resides in each one of us.

This quality certainly results from her full encounter of humanity. Phyllis is without a doubt a product of a rich life. At 76, she has seen almost everything: a parish community hatefully shun a divorcee, birth control’s effect on theology, gay men become priests, women become breadwinners. All things her childhood church swore would never happen, yet they did and Phyllis is here to bear witness.

She came also to bear witness of facts – emotions can hardly carry a movement as powerful as Phyllis describes. Phyllis talked about the inevitable 500-year cycle of the church. According to church scholars the church experiences a major shift of sorts every 500 years, The Great Schism and The Great Reformation are both examples of these. These shifts occur when political, social and religious climates are ripe for change. Phyllis Tickle believes we are as ripe as can be.

Political and social causes such as the: family planning movement, women’s liberation movement, gay rights movement, abolition movement and the normalization of divorce have caused us to evaluate how literal scripture is really to be understood. Church rifts over issues such as these are abundant and more often people are seeking other venues to experience God. Whether that may be a home meeting of Christians, an AA meeting, a social justice cause or a quiet meditation pillow – the traditional church is losing ground because of its refusal to acknowledge the urgency of these matters.

What’s the result? The Great Emergence.

Out of this turbulent time the church is emerging in a new way. It’s letting go of the traditional hierarchy and acknowledging the power of the Spirit and the Christ in us all. You can see this type of church in many different cities, many different denominations and many different forms. Phyllis described a Catholic Church of 150 whose entire congregation gathers at the alter, something once reserved for priests alone. She talked of Episcopalians who are willing to throw away our “Episcocrat” status and instead welcome the homeless, poor, outcast and unbeliever to the Lord’s Table. She talked about Christians around the country, returning to the central message of how Christ lived and how we can best emulate him. She said this was spreading like a wild fire and it wasn’t up to us to validate it – rather we better just acknowledge it.

I can say without a doubt that we here at Life Together are acknowledging it, even better; we’re a part of it.

Phyllis Tickle says you can tell an Emergent Church by the order of the 3 B’s. Traditionally churches have matriculated members by this process: first you BELIEVE what we believe, then you BEHAVE like we behave and finally, only then, you BELONG. A central part of the Great Emergence is a reordering of our B’s. First and foremost, you BELONG, no matter what. Then, if you hang around, you’ll BEHAVE like we do – primarily referring to the behavior of practicing Christian traditions. And finally, it’s in the experience of those practices that you BELIEVE.

I have never experienced a BELONG> BEHAVE> BELIEVE culture such as Life Together. The night before our training started, many of us gathered together to share in a meal. It didn’t matter where we were from, what church we grew up in or what our core belief about salvation was – what mattered was that we belonged. Together, we made up Life Together; we were an "us." Quite quickly, we began behaving similarly: we read the Holy Scripture, we celebrated Eucharist, we worshiped through song, we served our communities. We did all this in the name of Christ. Sure enough, slowly but surely, we came to believe. We came to believe that we all are carrying a powerful and urgent message. We came to believe that we are bearers of good news that needs to be loudly shared and proclaimed. We all believe that Christ is the center of this message and that in His power we can do anything. I’m not sure we would all have checked the believe box about that statement August 21st when we first met but I believe we would now.

The Great Emergence is about that slow and steady progress towards a powerful and intimate relationship with Christ. It’s about breaking down barriers and co-creating the church we want to be. Phyllis Tickle carried that message loud and clear. She may only have “one trick,” but the ability to arouse and inspire in the name of Christ, that’s a incredibly good trick to have.

January Flowers Bloom in Dorchester

2010-01-13T17:31:00.000-08:00

Relational Evangelist Kelsey Rice Bogdan wrote the post below. The picture was added separately and is from an image search for 'spiritual garden' on altavista.com.

The business of planting seeds sometimes seems like a lot of work with very little to show for it. In the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project, we spend a lot of our time planting seeds in coffee dates, church services, volunteer fairs… anywhere where we can learn a little bit about others’ dreams for the world and inspire them with God’s dream. But as this fall wore on, I became impatient to see those seeds grow into full-blown flowers. We listened a lot, we talked a lot, but I longed for the time when we would see more fully how God is bringing about justice through our fledgling campaign.

Well, I can now say that I see some flowers blooming. The Hope in Action Leadership and Organizing Training, January 8-10 at Epiphany School in Dorchester, brought together more than 70 people from all over Boston and Cambridge to develop skills that will empower us to be agents of change in the community. A major part of that training was learning the practice of public narrative, a form of storytelling intended to inspire others to action. The library at Epiphany School was abuzz all weekend with clusters of people huddled together, listening intently to one another weave stories of hope and possibility based on their own experience. Some told humorous stories, such as the Hope in Action site event that seemed beset by every catastrophe imaginable only to create a powerful and meaningful action in the end. Others shared stories of courage, such as the woman who stood up to a group of men for verbally abusing a young gay man on a Boston street. And some were stories of pain and loss translated into work for justice. All these individual stories wove together to create the story of Hope in Action—one in which we speak with a collective voice to say that we have the power to act, and we will use it.

But why do we tell our stories? How do we presume to think that a roomful of people in Dorchester, coming up with stories about their experiences, is supposed to make any difference in the world whatsoever? What I discovered this weekend was that every time someone gets up to tell her story, she claims an agency she didn’t have before. One of the most powerful moments of the training for me was on the last day, when one young woman got up and told that room of 70+ people what it was like to find yourself homeless. It wasn’t just the story that drew me in, either—what moved me so deeply was the power the speaker claimed through storytelling. In the very act of talking about such a devastating experience, this woman refused to be the silent, downcast figure we so often associate with homelessness. She refused to allow others to define her, to talk about her as a statistic or an abstract problem. She challenged us to understand her experience in the context of her essential personhood, as a beloved child of God. And she invited us to be transformed with her in the end. After getting back on her feet, this young woman now works at a homeless shelter. She provides others with the generosity and respect so often denied to her in her own experiences. Those of us who heard her story are now also called to offer respect to the homeless we meet because of her narrative. And that is the beginning of power, for her and for us.

As I listened to so many stories this weekend, I realized that I was seeing the blooming of so many seeds we had planted in the fall—seeds of hope, seeds of empowerment, seeds of God’s dream for our world. It happened every time someone shared, saying in essence, “Yes, I am important! I am beloved! I am going to make a difference!” That was worth the work this fall. And it is only the beginning.

Immigration rights and social media strategy

2009-12-23T12:42:00.000-08:00

This post was contributed by Micah Intern and LifeTogether blog coordinator Caroline Hunter.

Above is an interview with Dimple Rana, co-founder and co-director of nonprofit Deported Diaspora. Deported Diaspora works to support those under the threat of deportation both in the US and abroad.

I conducted the interview at an event through my internship called the
BeTheMedia mini-conference. It was sponsored by Third Sector New England and Progressive Communicators Network, and offered a group of workshops focused on racial justice and using social media. As the English as a Second Language (ESL) Program Coordinator at the Irish Immigration Center (IIC), I needed first to get the message out to the public that The Irish Immigration Center needs and has an ESL program because we serve

more than just Irish Immigrants.

We currently serve learners from Colombia, Russia, China, Guatemala, Haiti and other countries. I also wanted to learn as much as possible about how to use social media to promote immigration rights equality. As I have learned since starting at the IIC this fall, even tax-paying, family-oriented U.S. immigrants often face large obstacles to receiving basic labor and healthcare rights. I listened at the conference for ways I could use social media to connect with others who want to promote immigrant rights equality; I learned about how to build relationships online, and to help those relationships evolve alongside one's nonprofit organization.

Some highlights from the social media tips:

1. Social media is a way to connect with others of a like mind. Talk (type) as if you were having a conversation with those people. If your colleagues would be bored or annoyed in person by what you say, they will be on the Web also.

2. Be consistent. A danger of using social media is the temptation to dabble in many different communication tools while evaluating the usefulness of none of them. If you're going to use a tool like Twitter or ConstantContact, keep a close eye on how it works. If it doesn't work, figure out why, so you can find something better!

3. What's the difference between social life and social media? It's different for each person, so definitely ask yourself this question. Informational boundaries will give your communication a sense of purpose.

If you're interested in learning more about the Irish Immigration Center ESL Program, email me at chunter@iicenter.org for volunteer opportunities and resources!

See LifeTogether Lead

2009-12-17T19:39:00.000-08:00

Click the image below to see a full reel of Youth Programs pictures from St. Stephen's in the South End

Check out more on flickr:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/44124971@N04/sets/72157622834109753/

Here are some pictures of St. Stephen's at the 7th Blackstone Community Meeting:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/44124971@N04/4168439566/ and at

http://www.flickr.com/photos/44124971@N04/4167676049/
St. Stephen's Chapel before going to Blackstone School.

Below, see Relational Evangelist Waetie Kumahia (center) celebrating social justice in action at St. Mary's/St. Mark's in Dorchester:

Watch for more photos as we work to live into advent and the call to faith through service.

St. Stephen's South End kicks off Hope In Action Campaign, receives community recognition

2009-12-10T20:31:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Micah Intern Kathryn Kendrick for contributing this post.

The past two weeks at St. Stephen's have been wonderful. I am the Christian Education Coordinator at this parish where kids come not only on Sundays, but 6 days a week.

Last week, St. Stephen's held its first Hope In Action Campaign event. We had over 50 people from St. Stephen's attend the meeting at Blackstone Elementary School, the second-worst performing school according to MCAS test scores. During the meeting, St. Stephen's was given recognition for being an organization that maximized the use of it's resources and was committed to strengthening the surrounding community. I was invited to design a t-shirt and a button for the event, so that we could be easily recognizable as a team and promote community organizing in the neighborhood.

Mary Oliver, a Pulitzer Prize- and National Book Award-Winning Poet visited St. Stephen's last Thursday with Bishop Tom Shaw. She was given a book of poems written by the children at the After School Program. Thursday night, she had a poetry reading at Coolidge Corner Theater and 100% of the proceeds went to St. Stephen's B-SAFE Summer Program.

Sunday School - I am the Sunday School coordinator for the three classes that meet Sunday. and every week I plan two classes and teach one. This past Sunday all groups participated in Las Posadas, an event that helps us better understand the experiences of Mary and Joseph while they were awaiting Jesus' birth.

Church of the Holy Spirit Mattapan's young adults strike up canned goods and fun

2009-11-27T09:18:00.000-08:00

Young adults at Church of the Holy Spirit Mattapan (CHS) recently hosted their first service event of the year, a bowl-a-thon and canned food drive at Ron's Bowling in Hyde Park.

About 10 CHS young adults turned out to help make the event a great time to relax, reconnect and most importantly -- take part in some very competitive candlepin bowling.

LifeTogether Relational Evangelist Kendyll Hillegas coordinated the food-raiser through her internship with CHS. "All-in-all, an excellent evening," Hillegas said. "We're excited for our next event coming up in December. Watch the wires for news!"

Click below to read more about Church of the Holy Spirit Mattapan's young adult service work.

How to reconstruct your mind in one week, five easy steps

2009-11-21T16:50:00.000-08:00

This week was wild, and I am thankful for it.

As a Micah intern in the LifeTogether program, I have a wide array of learning and activism opportunities available to me. I never thought that one week could bring so many of them together. Between my work placement as ESL Program Coordinator for the Irish Immigration Center, my leadership role in the progressive Christian worship community downtown called The Crossing, and a tip from an in-the-know fellow intern, I have gone nonstop for the last six days. Such is LifeTogether.

On Monday, I attended a training in how to help the learners in my ESL program advocate for themselves and ask pique questions in order to play a role in making the decisions that shape their and their families' lives. The organization which gave the training is called The Right Question Project, and I am grateful to have a supervisor wise enough to know how useful their help can be (and was.)

On Tuesday night, I attended the Cooperative Metropolitan Ministries' 43rd annual Meeting and Awards dinner, whose theme was "Social Change and the Spirituality of Hope: Dialogue and Action in Interfaith America." Christian, Muslim, Quaker, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist leaders all spoke on their faith traditions and how to apply them to the world and its current challenges. I met a group of intentional community-ers who also live in Brookline at the Kavod House and got a dinner invite from them. Mingle, network: check.

Wednesday night was more relaxed. I helped out with a regularly scheduled class at the Irish Immigration Center, and had the privilege of helping to teach for about 15 minutes.

Thursday brought Transcriptions, a transgender open mic night hosted by The Crossing. The event included poetry, a comedic routine, vocal and instrumental performance, memoir-style narrative, confessions and more. I can't quite explain the atmosphere of the event - strange, real, warm, catharsis and support are five words that come to mind. I had to leave at quarter past ten when Ms. Transgender New England was rocking out while being recorded by Emerson students for a documentary. That was awesome in iteslf, and I was sad to go. Then I heard that there were five interviews with the night's performers after I left. Fellow intern and relational evangelist at The Crossing Justin Harvey told me that the night kept up its delightful and enchanting spirit until half past eleven.

Friday night put me in front of an entirely different stage as I watched an operatic performance of The Crucible, assistant directed by another of my fellow interns. It was truly haunting as it was set in a large, old gothic church and brought up what I saw as some of the same issues of justice and relevancy that the LifeTogether program is exploring this year.

Today, Saturday, I took it easy. After having circled around from advocacy training to interfaith celebration to transgenderism to an excellent opera, my mind is ready for another sabbath in the weekend.

General Convention '09, Boston: Pictures

2009-11-08T20:22:00.000-08:00

LifeTogether against blue skies and the Pru

Did you get a party favor from our display booth?

(There was also a lot of good info there, which you can find on this blog and in the links on the upper righthand corner of this page)

Trinity Church in Copley Square served as a spacious host for the convention

Rachel and Tyler are happy...maybe because the auction was a huge success?

Can't wait to host that $450 dinner at the LifeTogether house in Allston!

Thanks to Kathryn Kendrick for taking the above pictures.

Church Business: The Most Boring Thing That I've Come to Love

2009-11-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

This post was written by Relational Evangelist Kelsey Rice Bogdan.

If you've ever sat in a long, slow business meeting at work, you know how downright dull they can be-- the endless budget numbers, the minutiae that people continue to discuss long after you've ceased to care, the occasional fights that leave one party or the other bruised. Now, when most of us think of the things we love about church, on the other hand, we think of the inspiring worship or the warm hospitality of a church potluck. Maybe we think of a transformative mission trip to the Gulf Coast. My guess, though, is that most of us don't think of the church business meeting. It's like a meeting at work, except that we're usually there on our day off. And the church business meeting, whether it is in the vestry of the local congregation or a meeting of the entire denomination at the General Convention, also becomes the battleground for some of our most un-Christian and public fights. I've been to many denominational business meetings over the years, and seen many of the ways in which they cast light on how far from God's vision of justice and love we really are. All in all, it doesn't seem like much fun.

And yet, I must confess that sitting on my pew at Diocesan Convention here in Boston, listening to some guy give an extremely thorough Power Point presentation on clergy compensation at 9 am on a Saturday morning, I had a feeling in my heart that John Wesley once described as "strangely warmed." And I realized that I love church business meetings. We spend a lot of time talking during worship about what it means to be Christians in our everyday lives. We may go chat for a while at coffee hour after church, or maybe we go volunteer with our church group in the walk for breast cancer once a year. For some of us, those are the biggest training grounds for living out our faith. But the church business meeting... that's the place where we begin to really practice what it means to live a Christian life. Because it is there that we must learn how to talk across difference. It is there that we are faced with the complexity and beauty of the body of Christ in all its fullness. It is in the church business meeting, boring as it is, that we can open ourselves to the Spirit's teaching about the everyday task of discipleship-- not a series of "mountaintop" emotional highs, not always full of glorious organ strains or richly colored stained glass, but the faithfulness it takes to deal with the little details that make a big difference to our sisters and brothers.

Take the aforementioned clergy compensation discussion. While it may not have the excitement of a discussion about mission (which was actually yesterday's really inspiring presentation), the Diocese's decisions about paying priests and other workers makes sure that those people have the resources they need to continue their ministry to all of us. And it is a justice issue, too-- we can't demand justice for the world's workers in the name of Jesus Christ if we don't pay our own laborers their day's wages. The decisions we make here are a tangible expression of how we live as Christians in the world, and give force to our witness to Christ. This IS the body of Christ at work.

Plus, let's face it-- church business meetings are just plain funny. Where else can you see Bishop Tom Shaw's 15 years of distinguished service to the Diocese commemorated by-- and I'm not kidding--a bag of manure? Follow that up with Bishop Bud Cederholm leading all of us in a rousing rendition of "Sweet Bishop Tom," to the tune of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline," and you've got stuff to put a smile on your face all day. Last night at a fundraising auction, a homemade Episcopal-logo Snuggie fetched double the price at auction of a Josh Beckett-autographed baseball. Where else would that happen? Where else would anyone pay $650 for a SNUGGIE?!

So if you want to see the church at its most authentic and, yes, heartwarming, take your precious Saturday and check out some church convention or business meeting. You may need a big cup of coffee to stay awake, but if you pay attention you'll find yourself drawn deeper into discipleship and real Christian love.

Convention was amazing!

2009-11-06T20:49:00.000-08:00

Hey y'all, name's Luke Dodge, and I am a relational evengelist at Northeastern University. Tonight was my first Episcopal Convention experience... and it was amazing! The day was filled with many positive moments, and I would like to highlight two of them.

The first was when I witnessed the incredible energy of a bursting crowd of 700 church members as they stood to their feet with a torrent of support after hearing Jason Long, the assistant director for the Life together program, tell his story and dream that he feels God has for a 'new church' that is intentional about seeking to love others.

The second experience that really stands out for me was during the fund raising auction. Bishop Tom Shaw and other priests eagerly bid their way up to $800 dollars to have dinner with us at our intern house in Brookline... I was overflowing with joy in the moment of seeing this demonstration of a church supporting a young adult movement that is so close to my heart.

Today was an amazing experience, containing just a few of many God moments during this year at the Life Together program.

20 interns turn out close to 400 volunteers for September 11 service

2009-11-04T05:50:00.000-08:00

Who you gonna call when you need to mobilize 60 people to pick up 2,000 lbs. of trash in one day - in the pouring rain?

The Diomass Interns.

This September 11 and 12, a group of twenty young adult employees of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts, collectively called Life Together: The Diomass Intern program, recruited over 350 church and lay volunteers to participate in local community service events. One of these involved drawing over 60 people up to West Newbury to pick up trash from the property of the church-owned Emery Spiritual Retreat House.

LifeTogether is a strategic ministry project begun with the support of Bishop Tom Shaw to increase youth awareness of the intersection between the Episcopal faith and community action.

Other service events included painting a mural at St. Stephen’s church in Lynn, at which Joshua DuBois, President Obama’s Director of Faith-based Initiatives, made an appearance.

Interns are based at 12 churches and 7 nonprofit community and faith-based organizations. There is a network of over 50 diocesan and community-based leaders supporting the lives and work of the interns through their eleven month term of service.

It encompasses two programs: The Micah Project, through which twelve of the interns are working to build justice in community site placements; and the Relational Evangelism Project, a group of eight additional interns working to recruit youth into leadership roles in Hope in Action, a diocesan campaign to alleviate national poverty.

A third aspect of the Life Together program is living in intentional community; 15 out of the 20 interns live in housing provided by the diocese and have committed to developing a living model for youth engagement in the Episcopal church.