Year End Review

Most of us at the house make a point to set goals for ourselves each semester and review them at its close. In ministry, in a life like we live, there are so few ways to quantify results and really get a look a how you are doing. I just finished reviewing my goals for the fall semester and am pleased with the work that I have done but am more impressed with the feeling of joy I got as I just reflected on this last year. God has been so faithful to our community and we have done and seen more in this last year than most will in a lifetime. I always say, and really believe, that we have front row seats to life. As I reviewed the year I realize the inaccuracy of that, we have a good view because we are players, on the stage, practitioners, missionaries.
The year kicked off with our dear friend dennis driving into the back of a semi truck! Crazy old man won't stop for nothing though and never missed a step with the kids he has given his life to. Next, the Conscious slumber party. It was freezing out so our conscious party became a lock in. It was beautiful. Will & I and 30 homeless friends crashing on the floor together. In February I remember matt trying to 'showcase' stupid 'christian' books as our book of the month and being overly concerned that someone might take it seriously. Robby was busy in the other room building a bookshelf with a secret passage to what is now mommas room. March was crazy, There was a hostage situation a couple doors down from us and tactical units all over our street, We installed a garden at the good Samaritan inn for a drizly, cold, yet productive house day. We met tomas that month too and our homechurch finished the Gospel of John together. Oh and steve got an apartment! April was marked by a wave of confession as our community started to take seriously the role and power of this discipline among ourselves. A neighborhood addict, with whom we had been good friends broke into my car, was caught red handed, and asked,'can i keep the cd's?'. Gio and will had moved out and Chris and Ryan moved in, a tree fell on and crushed our neighbors house, and I spoke at underground for the first time in a long time about my experience of what is often called a dark night of the soul. We all prayed for and helped move in the girls who are staying in the telford house with hopes that we could be brothers and partners to these amazing women. David set a new bar for vulnerability and called us all into a deeper commitment to each other, sekajipo dropped his long awaited album, and tomas took brian and I to school us on the streets for a few nights. We mourned the closing of gullys, our beloved scratch and dent store, and we have been collecting and passing out blankets as the weather dropped. We started projects in the yard, build with salvaged material, have taken on the winter without using the heater, Chris has married and left us (for an admittedly better looking roommate), we celebrated mommas 62nd birthday together, another Christmas, 12 more conscious parties, 12 awesome community days, a very successful home church year,Halloween block party, thanksgiving dinner at the house, Christmas breakfast and at least 150 hours of house meeting time together. We also just saw Walter leave our place and move into a home for veterans where he will finally get the care he deserves. We have seen lives changed for better and worse, we have seen each other grow, fall, rebel, repent, and try. We are still slobs that don't wash our dishes, sinners that suck at life, and powerful agents of change because we are in the hands of God and at least trying to create a culture that is actually submitted to Jesus. Tonight, as we all gather to celebrate this year and look forward to the next may we smile and know that God has been good to us.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Christmas Time

Above are some of the gifts I made for Christmas gifts this year. Luffah, basil pesto, mint jelly, aloe juice, and vinegar veggies,all with ingredients from our gardens. It really was a great experience for me to feel the freedom (and ability) to make gifts for my family instead of fighting the annual battle with what i always perceive as obligatory materialism and consumption. I really enjoyed Christmas this year and had a great time with my family, Natalia's family, and our community.
Speaking of homemade gifts, David gave me my very own framed death certificate!
Time of death- Any given moment
Body removal service- 1.800.GOT.JUNK
Place of death- ironically close to the hospital.
It was legit looking. Notarized and everything. I love it.

There was also a small (probably a first annual) breakfast at our house on christmas morning for those who had nowhere else to go. I wasn't there but heard from those that where that it was a great time.

I am really glad to be part of a community that always practices hospitality and generosity. I'm glad to be with people that always hold the incarnation as a central reality and model for living. I am thankful for living in a place that is always available to those with nowhere to go. Its a place where 'christmas' seems ordinary and that is special to me. Thank you lake house for making the holidays ordinary. I love you all.

Momma's birthday

momma hates crowds but loves movies. Tonight was her 62nd birthday and there is quite a crowd of people that love momma. She has been so much to so many of us that people just kept coming by all night. as her movie collection grew so did her smile and her ability to handle the crowd. We often hit a threshold with her. I haven't figured out the exact number but I know when we hit it because she always vanishes. Tonight she got into one conversation after another and really seemed to be enjoying everybody. I really love her and the community that loves her as well. We got her her very own mini dvd player and she just hugged it and jumped up and down and said it made her cold go away. It was awesome. Thanks to everybody who came by to make this night special for her.
I am so grateful for her having shared another year of her life with us and am looking forward to many more.
momma, we love you!!!!

House Day - December 2010

We built, we burned, we bantered.

Smores, Twisty Ties, Dumpsters & Reflection

I remember a time when I waited five days each week for the weekend. I recall a time when couldn't perceive Monday through Friday as a time of joy; rather, it was the routine, monotonous interim between brief periods of fun and excitement in my life. In short, I remember a time when I spent most of my days waiting to live. And then I moved into the Lake House.

Twelve hours ago I was already knee deep in Monday evening. The night's responsibility to prepare dinner was mine, and I was entering the house two hours late due to a last minute appointment at work. I didn't want to let down my family of nine, but I was forced to prioritize a distressed client with a tight schedule, so I rested on my confidence that my community would understand the decision to serve others before ourselves. As I walked through the kitchen door, I found some of them sitting around with bowls of cereal and silent looks of desperation written across their faces. So... I got busy. I was moments away from shelling out $40 at Boston Market when Natalia, who knew my usual cooking partner was no longer available due to a phenomena called "marriage," instantly halted me and volunteered to help me cook. In her usual resourceful way, she scrounged up a bit of this and that until we ended up with a melting pot of various pasta shapes, sausage cuts, homemade sauce and twisty ties that I had forgotten to remove from the bundles of noodles. It was surprisingly tasty.

Before long, Jimmy, the tall, handsome Puerto Rican of our community, waltzed in ready to hit the weights as we normally do on Monday nights. Instead, due to the temperature outside (and inside the Lake House) we discovered ourselves huddled around the living room fireplace with other members of our community, cooking smores, fighting to stay warm and wondering when we might pass out from carbon monoxide. As people dwindled in and out the room, the conversation plunged a bit deeper until Jimmy and I were discussing our recent desire to rededicate ourselves to God. It had begun just yesterday during church when Brian, the director of the Underground, reviewed the impact that Jesus has had on the world over the last 2,000 years. Because of Christ's influence we have hospitals, universities and calendars. We have the very concept of hope and equality of the human race, which had not previously existed in ancient thought. With this in mind, Jimmy and I agreed that our lives would be a tragic waste if in the end we look back and realize that we did not turn the world upside-down. After all, we know personally the most powerful figure in the history of the universe, and we live presently in an age with such great need and injustice. Why shouldn't our lives serve as the conduit for Jesus' radical touch and transformation? How is it possible that our lives might become anything else? And why aren't our lives having that sort of impact right now?

As Jimmy and I were dwelling on the need for deeper devotion to God, Jon and David were in the next room hammering out some house documents for our ongoing communal formation. After they were finished, Jon was soon recruiting folks to accompany him on his journey to Home Depot where he would scavenge blocks of cement from dumpsters. Our house values simplicity and ecological sustainability, therefore we are always striving to do spend less and reuse resources out of concern for our neighbors and the environment. These chunks of cement, which were Home Depot's trash, would become the treasured foundation of our new shed. As everyone piled into Jon's truck and sped off, Jimmy and I stayed behind in order to wrap up our time together with an activity that each of us secretly wanted: prayer. We sat in my room and thanked Jesus for our new found inspiration to know and follow him, and we begged him to help us in this endeavor because we both knew all too well how prone we were to waning.

Jimmy left soon after while the rest of the house returned in time to find the fire dwindling and the room being invaded by frigid air. At this point, most of us would love to turn on the heater except that our electricity comes from a plant that uses coal which in turn pollutes and pains the communities from which it's mined. As opposed to being the covert partakers of an undue system that hurts people and the environment, we lit the fire once more and piled into the living room with our sleeping bags to enjoy injustice-free heat and a good night's rest.

I was half asleep when the doorbell rang at 1:00 AM, as it sometimes does at the Lake House. As Andrew answered the door, I could hear the rattled voice of a young woman explaining how she was nearly stabbed across the street. I will admit that as I lay there I couldn't help but think "Agh... I just wanna sleep. Do I really have to tend to someone else? When does it stop?" But in a flash i remembered what my oath to Jesus entailed, and that this was part of it. There was no way I could ignore her tonight and then say I love God tomorrow. So... I crawled out of the couch and followed Philip into the kitchen. As I introduced myself I noticed the tattoo that spanned both of her hands: "Don't Hate." How appopriate. As Philip slipped into his room to put on something warm, Andrew calmed her down and answered some of her questions, explaining who we were, what we were all about, and why we were all in our PJs together sleeping the living room... before long Drew and Phil had taken her home, and the night was finally over...

There is never a dull moment at our house. There are always ideas being born, projects being started, people dropping in and dishes being dirtied. I used to wait to live. Now, I'm more alive than I've ever been.

"For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it." -Matthew 16:25

Peter Maurin’s Personalist Gift to the Catholic Worker

by Carolyn Griffeth
reposted from Jesus Radicals

Central to Catholic Worker lore is the story of Dorothy Day’s conversion from a life of socialist agitation to a life of Catholic piety, a conversion which both magnified her longing to join the struggle of the poor, and stymied the participation she once had in it. For four years following her conversion Dorothy was reluctant to participate in any form of social activism, a trend she parted with in 1932 when she went to Washington, D. C. to cover the “hunger march”. Her heart was pierced by the countless ragged, hungry men gathered there. The next day at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Dorothy prayed ardently that “I might find something to do in the social order besides reporting conditions. I wanted to change them, not just report them, but I had lost faith in revolution, I wanted to love my enemy, whether capitalist or communist.” Were it not for this prayer, she later admitted, she would likely not have been so receptive to “the French peasant whose spirit and ideas [would] dominate the rest of [her] life,” who awaited upon her return home.
This French peasant, laborer, and itinerant scholar was Peter Maurin, who had immigrated to Canada in 1909, and then to the United States in search of his Christian vocation. This vocation eluded him throughout a decade of teaching and Catholic political activism in France, and then two more decades in the new world where he lived as a traveling laborer until World War One. This lifestyle created an in-road into a comfortable life as a French teacher. Like Dorothy, Peter had also experienced a radical conversion; at the age of fifty-three he walked away from the comfort he had struggled to gain in order to pursue a life of poverty, charity, and agitation, which four years later brought him to Dorothy’s door.
Not being one to talk of himself, Peter never revealed the details of his own inner-transformation, but rather when pressed by one interviewer explained dismissively that “a world in search of affluence and security had gone crazy, and I decided to be crazy in my own way.” One is left to speculate on just how Peter’s vocation was found. Peter is best known as an intellectual and as a synthesizer of the philosophy and wisdom of others. Being of such a nature, perhaps Peter’s conversion flowed naturally from the intellectual clarity and vision he arrived at after long studying the gospel, the lives of the saints, Catholic teaching, and the writings of a diverse group of philosophers and scholars. Peter formulated this clarity into a three-part program of action, a program that began with him, and through his graced encounter with Dorothy Day gave birth to the Catholic Worker Movement.
At the core of all Maurin’s thought lies the life and teachings of Jesus, the Sermon on the Mount in particular: “Blessed are the poor . . .” For Maurin, poverty was essential to entering into the life of Jesus and embodying the message of salvation Jesus preached, as was nonviolence or the love of enemies. One became poor because Jesus gave everything, even his life, to serve humankind. Voluntary poverty and nonviolence also gave witness to the primacy of the spiritual and prophetically demonstrated the orientation society had taken towards materialism and violence. The rumpled, old and only suit Peter Maurin wore on the occasion he met Dorothy gave evidence to the life of poverty he had chosen. After the onset of the Catholic Worker Movement, Peter had ample opportunity to model non-violence as a way of dealing with conflict. Dorothy relayed one account in the September 1948 Catholic Worker: When two men at Easton farm fought over an egg to eat, Peter refused to eat eggs or milk the rest of the summer, so that other might have more.
Peter also took to heart the teaching of Mathew 25:31: to serve those in need is to serve Christ. As the second pillar of his program he recommended Christian hospices, in the tradition of the early and medieval Christians, where the Corporal Works of Mercy would be practiced at a personal sacrifice. In Dorothy’s words: “We were to reach the people by practicing the works of mercy, which meant feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner, sheltering the harborless, and so on. We were to do this by being poor ourselves, giving everything we had; then others would give, too.” Peter did not hesitate to be the first to put his teachings into practice: “When a reader who had been sleeping in the subway came into the Catholic Worker office one day and disclosed her need (the apartment and the office were already full), Peter’s literal acceptance of ‘If thy brother needs food or drink, feed him, and if he needs shelter, shelter him’ meant that we rented a large apartment a block away which became the first House of Hospitality for women.” In the same spirit, Maurin would often stay overnight at Uncle Sam’s Hotel for forty cents a night, or simply sleep in the park because he had given his bed to someone in greater need.
Likewise, Peter paid great respect to the seven Spiritual Works of Mercy as described by the Catholic tradition: to admonish the sinner, to instruct the ignorant, to counsel the doubtful, to comfort the sorrowful, to bear wrongs patiently, to forgive all injuries, and to pray for the living and the dead. In particular, he embraced “instructing the ignorant” or “agitation” as his particular vocation, and sought to instruct Bishops and bums alike. One of his pedagogical techniques was reciting monologues that would continue uninterrupted until his point had been made and then listening to the fullness of his conversation partner’s ideas without interruption. Another technique of his, was to begin a conversation with one person in a crowded setting like Union Square but in a voice loud enough to attract others. In order to get profound ideas across to the common person, Peter wrote and recited Easy Essays, or pithy poems designed to get stuck in your head. With all these strategies it is no wonder John Woodlock of the Wall Street Journal wrote of Peter: “He can cram more truth into your cranium at high speed in a single hour than any ordinary person could do in a week.”
Nonetheless, one could argue that Peter’s pedagogy was a secondary factor in his success as an agitator; the greater factor was his unshakable belief that all individuals shared his interest in the big questions: What has gone wrong in contemporary society? And, how can society be recreated to better serve the common good and the flourishing of the human person? Moreover, he assumed that everyone was capable of grasping profound truths and willing to transform one’s life in conformity thereof. To this end, Peter proposed Round Table discussions as the first pillar of his three-part program. Round Tables were to compel the exchange of ideas across class divisions in order to understand the roots of social problems and thus forge radical answers.
Having found a disciple at last in Dorothy, Peter spent every day for the next four months, from three in the afternoon until eleven, following her around the house in order to give her a “Catholic education.” Respecting that Dorothy was a working, single mom, Peter would not only bring books, but also summaries of them, which he wrote as an act of service for those without the time to read the works he recommended. Peter’s summaries included a digest of Kropotkin’s Fields, Factories, and Workshops (1889), which concluded, from the study of peasant society, that the principals of cooperation and mutual aid, rather than competition, were the most natural tendencies of humankind. Other sources Peter eagerly brought to Dorothy’s attention were the English Distributists who decried the evils of industrialism and advocated a land and craft society, and the French Personalist, Emmanuel Mounier (1905-1950), who emphasized the absolute value of each person, made in the image of God, as the proper philosophical foundation for society. In the words of Mounier, Peter described his own program as a personalist one, a “green revolution,” which begins with an awakened sense of vocation that compels one to take an active role in history.
Another source of inspiration which Maurin brought to Dorothy was the example of the saints. Peter said, “In the Catholic Worker we must try to have the voluntary poverty of St. Francis, the charity of St. Vincent de Paul, the intellectual approach of St. Dominic, the easy conversations about things that matter of St. Philip Neri, and the manual labor of St. Benedict.”
“Peter loved St. Benedict,” wrote Dorothy, “because he said that what the workers needed most was a philosophy of work.” This philosophy flows out of the Benedictine motto: Laboreare et Orare—Labor and Pray—which emphasized an ideal unity between work and prayer, religious life and economic life. In his own life, Peter had seen the degrading effects of capitalism and communism, both materialistic economic models that emphasize wealth and production rather than the wholeness of the human person or the flourishing of human relationships within society. As an alternative, Peter proposed Christian communalism, believing that the development of one’s interior life was best fostered by a spiritually-centered communal life emphasizing poverty over affluence, self-giving over self-advancement, and cooperation over competition.
Peter cited Benedictine monasticism with its emphasis on hospitality, prayer, life on the land, art, and labor, as just such a model which could transform not only the person but also the wider culture. From his studies of monasticism, Peter also acquired the idea that human goodness can be fostered by appropriate structures. Therefore, Peter would formulate a daily schedule with set times for prayer, work in the fields, meals, rest, crafts, study, etc., for himself and whoever cared to follow. It was these small structures as well as the practice of the works of mercy, and the return to a village-like land and craft based culture, which fleshed out Peter’s idea of a “society where it is easier to be good.” To this end, Peter proposed farming communes or “agronomic universities,” to reintroduce city dwellers to the spiritual richness and simplicity of life on the land as the third and final pillar of his program. On Peter’s farming communes, community members were to live not only in cooperation with one another, but also in cooperation with their animals, which were considered as community members, and with the land, which was to be farmed using the most earth-friendly methods available—all of which was akin to living in cooperation with God.
Nonetheless, it is St. Francis, not St. Benedict, to whom Peter Maurin has commonly been compared, and who was arguably his greatest source of inspiration. The radical conversion Peter underwent coincided with his reading a series of books and papal encyclicals on St. Francis. In one of his Easy Essays Peter summarized the way of St. Francis, which he sought to emulate:

Saint Francis desired that we should give up

superfluous possessions.

Saint Francis desired that we should work with our hands.

Saint Francis desired that we should offer

our services as a gift.

Saint Francis desired that we should ask other people for

help when work fails us.

Saint Francis desired that we should live as free as birds.

Saint Francis desired that we should go through life giving

thanks to God for God’s gifts.

Like St. Francis, Peter was described by Dorothy as possessing “a freedom and joyousness that come from a clear heart and soul.” This joy and freedom flowed from his adoption of Franciscan poverty and the clarity he possessed about his own vocation, which was, in the spirit of St. Francis, to preach the gospel at all times in both word and action. Peter’s method of “agitation”, employed to awaken the human intellect and to compel one towards conversion, as well as his three part program, were his attempt to bring the gospel to the common person and to the social realities of his time. In short, Peter sought not only to talk of salvation (one’s growth towards holiness, or the full realization of oneself moving towards God), but to make salvation more possible by creating a spiritually nourishing culture.
It is remarkable how precisely Dorothy’s prayer “to find something to do in the social order” for the poor was answered in Peter Maurin. “Without him,” Dorothy concluded, “I would never have been able to find a way of working that would have satisfied my conscience. Peter’s arrival changed everything, I finally found a purpose in my life and the teacher I needed.” In turn, Peter found in Dorothy the student he had searched for, one with the capacity and charisma to put his program into action. Because of Peter and Dorothy’s student-teacher relationship, Peter has commonly been understood as the intellectual founder of the Catholic Worker Movement. Yet from the beginning, Dorothy sought that Peter would be known for more than just his ideas and even insisted that biographers writing about her write instead about Peter. In the end, Dorothy set out to write her own biography of Peter which, though unfinished, was recently published in Peter Maurin: Apostle to the World. Dorothy’s reflections within, make it clear that Peter was not only her teacher but also her spiritual mentor in whom she saw the “face of Christ.” Upon Peter’s death, Dorothy compared their time together to the time the disciples walked unknowingly with the risen Jesus, quoting Luke 24:32: “Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke along the way?”

'...to present her to himself as a radiant church'

She had embraced singleness and was single mindedly committed to Jesus. I remember talking with friends over the years about this girl that no guy could get. We called her her the big fish, one buddy always joked that she was Rapunzel in the tower. She was beautiful and her commitment and dedication to God made her that much more beautiful.
Tonight she gave up singleness and vowed to pursue God with Chris. Singleness was truly a gift that she cherished. She was free to go wherever God called and whenever He called. She was free to pour her life out into community and ministry. As they exchange vows I can't help but stand in awe and reflect on the depth of this union. It is no small thing.

As we prayed for Chris as a community before the wedding I was overwhelmed with joy for them both. They are making vows and immediately setting their eyes on the Philippines. There marriage is, from day one, about the kingdom and Gods purposes in the world. I love them both and am so excited to see what God does with these two lives. 

This blog marks the end of Chris's time in our house and the beginning of their life together. They will always be family to us. 

We are so happy for you both.

Joann your life is an inspiration. Chris we will miss you.

grateful

The holidays can be tough. Bad memories and good memories alike can stir ones heart to grief. For many, it is the time where it is most clear that they are alone and lonely. We opened our house to friends and a few strangers that had nowhere to go to celebrate thanksgiving and feasted. It was beautiful to see a 67 yr old vietnam vet sitting with a young punk rocker, a local black minister preaching to a white college student, to see one man who lives on the street serving everyone else while another fell asleep on the couch. What on earth are these people doing together? In what world do these people celebrate holidays together? I am a citizen of the world in which it happens all the time, a member of a communtiy that has embraced this counter culture, and a student of a master that has been growing us in his image each step of the way.

Ecological Consciousness

Our concern for nature recognizes mans place within the environment. Mankind and the societies that we develop are as much a part of nature as the trees and rivers. Mankind however has demonstrated throughout time our capacity for standing as an antagonist in this relationship. We have historically imagined in building our modern society that natural resources were infinite and that the road to the future was paved with infinite development. As Leonardo Boff has pointed out, these two presuppositions have proven themselves to be illusionary. We now know that natural resources are not infinite and that they are actually rapidly diminishing. This depletion of the earths resources directly, negatively and most severely affects the poor of the earth. Social injustice, which finds itself at the heart of our ecological mindfulness, is the manifestation of a violence against the most complex being in all of creation, the human being. Ecology should be both environmental as well as social and advocate sustainable development that attends to the basic needs of human beings without sacrificing the earth’s resources. We must also consider the needs and rights of future generations as well as the current needs of the earth today.
Because the society that has been developed over recent centuries is all consuming, it values humans based on there consumption, makes indulgence our modus operandi,  and also inhibits sustainability. There is a mental conversion needed in each individual for us to move toward sustainability. We have been brought up to consume and we also have within ourselves instincts of violence and a desire to dominate. In most cases our culture has only echoed these instinctual drives and in worst cases encouraged them. Many environmentalists disregard man as part of nature because we have set ourselves up as its enemy and sought to destroy and consume the earth. This is little more than a pendulum swing from our anthropocentric way of seeing the world to the opposite extreme. Mankind is as much a part of this world as any other element in nature. We must attend to the needs of man as well as other beings in nature such as plants, animals, or microorganisms, because they are all part of the delicate and valuable system of this planetary community. All beings are interdependent and live within an intricate web of relationships. Anthropocentric culture considers humans to be the rulers of the universe. We must repent of this idea, culture, and lifestyle. Jesus Christ is the only ruler of the universe and we are responsible for stewarding creation and are responsible for the deterioration of this planet and are paying dearly for our sins. It is imperative that we recapture an attitude of respect, adoration, and care for the Earth.

Revolution is here....

THE ENTIRE DEBUT ALBUM BY SEKAJIPO AND THE JUNGLE, ¨REVOLUTION OF THE MIND-STATE¨, IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR A FULL LIVE STREAM ONLY AT ONLY AT WWW.REVERBNATION.COM/SEKAJIPOANDTHEJUNGLE

Freezing Jesus.... I was naked and you clothed me

Brian's talk following our time on the street

A brief Pilgrimage, a permanent impact.

So my friend Brian and I took to the streets for a few nights led by our friend Tomas who has lived on the streets for years. He said that we would need to find our own squat to sleep. That was part of the experience and he was not gonna just tell us where would be safe or where he normally sleeps. The first day we met up with him in the middle of Ybor and he told us that we were unprepared and at least had to find some blankets. We went to a local ministry that works with homeless people and they gave us a couple. Not before they questioned us about being on the streets. (I am pretty sure she didn’t believe us but it was getting weird and she just gave them to us.) Tomas said we were far to clean to fit in but that we wouldn’t be for long. Since we knew that The Well has a meal they call The Banquet every Thursday in ybor we knew that we would be able to find some dinner that night so we put our minds and feet to finding a squat (a place to sleep). We found a few spots that seemed promising but at one we really liked I stepped in some poo and lets just say there was some paper nearby! Not dog do do! Not that we still thought this might be a good spot but as I cleaned up Tomas told us how important it is to bury your poop. We could think of several reasons that this might be a good idea but in the end his reasoning was that he wants God to be with him. What? Yup, Deuteronomy 23:13-14 says : “...when you relieve yourself, dig a hole and cover up your excrement. For the LORD your God moves about in your camp to protect you...” God doesn’t even hang around if theres crap there!! So on we went. WE ended up finding a nice spot behind a manicured section of the I-4 exit ramp. We stashed our blankets and stuff in the bushes and kept walking around the city. Below are a few reflections on the journey.

Pruning
As we walked he asked us what we would grab if we could get one thing from home. Shoes! i said emphatically. these are killing me. I already had blisters and we were only half a day into what I was learning was an itinerant life. Tomas granted my wish and we stopped by the lake house to swap shoes. The Lake House is normally great about helping guys on the streets but Natalia screamed at me as I came up to the house “Homeless people can’t just go home and get their other shoes!!” She was right and I still did get some better shoes. Then her hospitallity kicked in and she brought us all a drink on the porch and off we went. (By the way brians response was “hmm, that will probably keep changing, right now its headphones, tomorrow in would probably be socks and underwears, and after that who knows.” He is right the longer we were on the street the more basic our needs and desires became. All of our normal cravings and whims were silenced and a soda seemed indulgent. After the couple nights we spent outside his answer became clear. ‘A watch.’ I can’t tell you how slow time seemed to move and how clueless we were about when the sun might come up. THis morning we were wide awake just waiting for the sun to rise and he finally walked to a gas station to find out what time it was. When he got back he informed us that it was only 3:15 AM!! I wanted to cry. I was freezing, wet with dew, and just sore from laying on the ground.) 

We just walked and walked and walked. We did stop and relax at a few parks along the way but if we wanted to eat we had to get ourselves to the next meal site, plus we got shooed when we stopped for one of us to tie his shoes. We literally spent the second day walking to get from lunch to dinner. We walked all the way to Brandon for dinner. The meals were great and what a relief it is to sit down with smiling faces and enjoy a meal after walking in the dust and heat and scorn of everybody all day long. As I stood in a line outside of the salvation army’s Trinity cafe for lunch I was struck by the general joy of people with real struggles and I couldn’t help but think about my middle class community and its tendency to complain about everything. Literally drive to a restaurant in an air conditioned car, sit down at a beautiful meal, in a beautiful place, with a beautiful person and complain. It really staggers the mind. “God forgive me for I am a man of unclean lips and I dwell among a people of unclean lips.” -Isaiah 6

Coffee and the Morning Paper
Both mornings we were up before the sun and itching to move again. (Even though our feet were in blatant disagreement) We each had a few dollars which was enough to get us a coffee and dollar burrito at McDonald's each morning. I am telling you I have never enjoyed being in a McDonalds more in my life. We sat in a booth, read the newspaper, drank coffee and just soaked in the Micky D’s goodness. On the front page was an article about tampa discussing the banning of panhandling. What a great situation to have this discussion. We talked about the ways that we felt about this possible ban and what that might mean for poeople, like tomas, who really need help from others. How can it be made illegal to ask for help? How could anyone without any access to money ever sit in a both at Mcdonalds, read the paper and discuss their lives together? How could rich people disgust and disregard for the poorest members of our society hide behind the guise of public saftey. There have not even been any reported accidents other than one newspaper salesman three years ago. This is strictly about the potential for an accident OR bigotry and distaste. I was pleased to hear that the debate has been shut down for now as Joseph Caetano failed to get a second, so his motion to ban panhandling died. I was relieved. Maybe we should each take a minute to call or write those that stood against the ban and thank them for doing what is right.

http://www.tampagov.net/dept_City_Council/about_us/ here is a link to write the members of City council. 

By the way you may feel like this is a good debate and you are not sure which way you are leaning and thats ok. But these people are calling for an ‘immediate’ ban for public safety reasons without cause. Lets pray for them and their families and ask God to bless them, soften their hearts, and lead them to a place where they would feel the impact of their legislation. 

Pam Iorio is calling to make the ban county wide instead of just in the city.
Charles ‘Chip’ Fletcher, who was named by Iorio as the City Attorney

The City Attorney's Office is located at:

Old City Hall, 5th Floor

315 E. Kennedy Blvd.

Tampa, FL 33602

Tel: (813) 274-8996

Fax: (813) 274-8809

Assistant Police Chief John Bennett

Faith
Tomas says it takes a lot of faith to live on the streets. Trusting God for safety, rest, food, etc. The presence of peace is, to him, Gods presence. Incidentally that is also why he is so adamant about burying poop. That presence is all you have and you do whatever it takes to keep Him with you. Faith is everything in such precarious places.

Feet
Jesus was always on the move, a tramp, and he called disciples that would leave everything and follow him. Many times we think how hard it is for people to leave everything. It is, but with these blisters on my feet after walking around tampa with Tomas I can’t help but imagine how hard it would have been  to actually follow Jesus. TO get up and walk from town to town, seek out food and trust God for rest. When Jesus was leaving his disciples he said, if you love me you will do what I do. You will keep on walking. He promised that he would send a guide that would walk alongside them, and walking, being sent, movement, was implied.
Isaiah 52:7 says “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news”
Beautiful are the feet that are dirty, blistered, calloused, stinky, covered in ant bites, and still moving. They don’t stop because it hurts. They are on a mission and marching to the cadence of our Father.


Hilarity
Oh and when I found a bathroom at the park and it had no toilet paper Tomas asked me if I needed some 'shit tickets' as he offered me a stack of napkins. Then he warned that often times on the streets your body will use a lot more of what you take in causing your movements to be a little loose. Really? I asked. "Ya its called Tramp Splat" He smiled as I threw up in my mouth a little.

We are called to live and called to love

For me, life is full of undulations of the heart, waves that oscillate up and down and I wear it all. Right now, I am inspired and ridiculously amazed at how we live and how we love. Not that we got it right but that we try. We are trying to do mission. It is becoming real to me.

It has been difficult for me to bear this burden of mission. i have wanted to run to comfort and run to solace. But, on Monday, I woke up differently. Everything was more beautiful. The air around me, the sky above, the trees outside, and the people, of course the people were the most beautiful of all. I saw love all around, people who have it and people who so desperately desire it whether they know it or not. A friend of mine has been going to the Good Sam feeding lately, and after this last time I felt I could feel how she wanted to love and see love, how the faces of the poor actually resonated with her. And the men and women at the good sam, I couldn't help but see Jesus in them all. The broken and downtrodden, and they were happier than I had been for months. And grateful for watery mashed potatoes, stale chicken patties and bread on the verge of being moldy. And they are so thankful.

God is moving among us and within us. He is pouring himself out all around us and calling us to do the same.

A friend of mine from high school has been on an 11 month mission trip all over the world called the world race. I have been keeping up with her blog (http://emilymilroy.theworldrace.org/) and I am inspired by her willingness to go in spite of fear, and the diligence with which she confronts all the challenges God places in front of her. She has open hands and she allows God to move within her and use her to move. We strive to do the same, we strive to move according to His will. I have been pushing against Him lately because it started to hurt. He started to ask too much of me. But he never stopped loving me in spite of my resistance. He never pulled away but waited patiently as I went through being a whiny brat about it all. And finally whene I turn and wake up to Him, He reaffirms me that it is all ok. It is ok because He can replace the crap i have filled my life with, it is ok because as He asks me to let go of one thing, he fills that emptiness within my soul.

I live in a house where two dogs damage everything, roaches can never be fully killed, we find mice in toilets and someone uses a pair of tongs to throw it across our neighbors yard. I live next to a liquor store with street walkers on the corner. I live in a house where 10 poorly equipped, naive, selfish at times, arrogant at others, decide to commune with one another, to build and equip one another, to put each other in their place when necessary and pick each other up when they have fallen. And we don't do it because we love one another. We do it because we love God, and He loved us first. When you experience that it becomes an overflow of the heart and you cant help but love the people your are around. As Emily said in her blog, we strive to live with hands open, that the overflow of the love within our hearts meet each other and everyone we come in contact with. That the chaos that is the Lake House may help a life come to know Jesus, and help each other to remind us that it is Jesus that is our focus, nothing else. I want to desperately listen to the voice of God, and I pray that if I never reach the point where I can listen, that the desire to listen will be enough. I pray that each of us continues to be intentional in the way we live. Our actions will never be meaningless, each of them reaches into the souls of those around us, and into our own whether we pay attention or not. I love and i strive to love abundantly. I pray that it never ceases. That as I look around, I see Jesus in everyone, the good bad and ugly. As this post is, my life is a jumbled mess of emotion, thoughts, desires and people. I would have it no other way and I pray that it is God that separates it all out and uses me for what he would have of me. I thank each and every one of you for being in my life, putting up with my crap, and loving me all the same. Mad props.

Seek God, he is waiting for you with open arms and he will teach you, refine you, burn away the crap of your lives. It may hurt at times, but in the end you will be the beautiful creation, made in His image, that he intended you to be.

Love you guys

Death of St. Scratch & Dent

Dear Brethren,

May Gulley's rest in peace. It served us as loving and faithful companion for many years now. It allowed us to live a healthy and abundant life. Granola bars for 10 cents, tea boxes for a 25 cents, dented cans for 35 cents. They say you can't buy love, but the truth is, Gulley's sold love. It came in an expired and dented box in the spoiled milk isle.

We should place a picture of Gulley's on our wall. No other store has the ability to evoke so many fond memories (ex. Will eating a cup of maggot infested oatmeal. Me drinking a full cup of brown and rotted apple juice. Eating canned food that had a two year old expiration date).


Please respect Gulley's passing away.

Benji's Song

The mess that we're in is as common as sin,

But we've never been quite satisfied

With our petty offenses, our own recompenses:

The guilt, and the secrets we've cried.

So we collaborate and we systemize hate

Into broad multinational schemes

That don't stop with the murder of one poor sheep herder,

But rend all the flock at the seams.

If our minds can't dismiss our Judas's kiss,

Then we'll hide it behind the bright mask

That we wear in the crowd, where the cheers are too loud

To admit our own role in the task.

What is murder for me is a triumph when we

Pin a flag or a ribbon to claim

The dark deed as a virtue. Don't blame me if it hurt you

To blot out your memory and name.

And if all of the men and their wives and descen-

-dents have fallen and bowed in their shame,

Then the earth will fall last--the die has been cast

and the ash will remember our name.

After pillaging kin, our own house will cave in

On our crimes, our excuses, our pride.

Only then will our lust to ground men into dust

Will be, with our death, satisfied.

We Have Our Moments

Sometimes entropy can be observed by just looking at our community. Convictions wane, intentionality is stilled, & the aroma of apathy clings to everything. We become irritable, selfish, resentful, and unkind. The proximity that deepens our intamacy also amplifies our angst. We unknowingly retreat into the solace of isolation and deprive ourselves of the very cure. The past month seems to have been one such season.

Then, as though God had planned such a period for dramatic effect, He blows through the house like a rushing wind of intentionality, reconciliation, reflection, repentance, and restoration. Last night was one such night.

The night began as a cool evening at home with housemates, a few guests, wrestling matches and haircuts in the kitchen. It became a series of independently initiated & intentional conversations consisting of things like confession, repentance, reconciliation, personal challenges and convictions. I had the privilege of being either central to or at least included in almost a half dozen such conversations in one evening. (and in a strange way there was a common echo happening in them all) While it may sound like a tedious or stressful evening it is quite the contrary. Like a withered plant being watered, I felt restored and wanted to just bask in it. Nights like that remind us of why we live the way we do, correct the insidious ideas that have been eroding our clarity, and give us a taste of the communal life that beckons.

Gettin' Conscious!

INVICTUS

by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gait,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Rewritten by Dorothy Day
Out of the night that dazzles me,
Bright as the sun from pole to pole,
I thank the God I know to be
For Christ the conqueror of my soul.
Since His the sway of circumstance,
I would not wince nor cry aloud.
Under that rule which men call chance
My head with joy is humbly bowed.
Beyond this place of sin and tears
That life with Him! And His the aid,
Despite the menace of the years,
Keeps, and shall keep me, unafraid.
I have no fear, though strait the gate,
He cleared from punishment the scroll.
Christ is the Master of my fate,
Christ is the Captain of my soul.

יהוה אחד

Yesterday morning the eclectic collection of micro churches in the broader Tampa Bay area came together at the HUB (Huge Underground Building) to represent the love they have and the people they love. For some, that means African American girls, and for others, it's the local homeless, the self-deluded middle class, Haiti, Manila, Hamburg, St. Petersburg, the college students, the aged, the dying, or for us, it's the people who knock on our door. It was hard to answer the question of who we are or what we do. Do? We do stuff. And who we are is part of the Body: just one houseful of people trying to crack our door wide open to the neighborhood we love. It was good to see other pieces of the Kingdom, each with their own passion and calling, none of them encompassing the totality of the Gospel, each of them invaluable in their own expression of it. And we are one.

After the micro church showcase, we worked alongside our friends to move them into a new house where they have decided to enjoy the reality of christian community among women. It's good to have sisters. On Saturday at a wedding, I sat next to one of them, Lauren, and we watched the groom kneel down and wash the feet of the bride, who then knelt down to wash his feet in turn. I leaned over to her and said "This is why I love Christianity" and her smile nodded in agreement. We are blessed to love one another by serving each other as we would want to serve ourselves. We are excited to work with Lauren's girls, excited to see them flourish in service to each other. And we are one.


In the evening, after our normal house meeting, I took the liberty of testing the boundaries of christian community, of calling the bluff on unconditional love. It's a gamble that I've come to love losing, because each time I've packed my bags in preparation for rejection, for judgment or condemnation, each time I've expected these believers to act like 'those christians', I have seen their judgment suspended, giving way to mercy, seen their words quieted so they can listen. I see their spirituality, with all the doctrine, dogma and discipline that entails, swallowed up in the Spirit, Who is the same in each of us. And we are one.

Being Called To Something Greater...

Today was a continuation of a process i've been going through for a lil while now, but more heavily in the last week. During a personal retreat this past weekend, I saw a foreign movie based on the true story of a young girl who was beheaded for her involvement in the german resistance against hitler... it really challenged me. it caused me to look carefully at my own life, my own goals, and ask whether or not i was living for something greater, something worth dieng for. more than that, it also challenged me to give myself TOTALLY to a cause worth dieing for; not just halfheartedly. her story left me feeling ashamed and inspired.... not wanting this sort of feeling to wane, i decided i needed to keep feeding whatever this was taking place in my heart, so i got hold of a couple movies about bonefhoeffer and watched those, and once again i was ashamed and ispired. altogether i'm looking at these people's lives and learning that their faith/relationship with God informed every aspect of their lives. there was no separation between their "religon" and their "politics," or there "religon" and their "social life," or their "religon" and their "economics." it was all one integrated whole for them.

it's funny... people like sophie scholl and dietrich bonehoffer were not popular in their day. they were just ordinary people who gave themselves fully to a higher cause. they were ordinary people who did not shrink back from death. really they were ordinary who just lived their lives totally surrendered to God, and that is what made them extraordinary. that is what made their names great and worth rembereing throughout history. and those who only served themselves, who cowardly gaurded their own intrests and did not speak up against the evils of their day for fear of their own lives or family, their memory has faded away....

i'm not necesarrily interested in being remembered, but i want to live a life worth remembering. I want to live a life that really matters. Deep in my heart i want to give myself TOTALLY to a greater cause, for the betterment of humankind. i don't want regrets. My greatest fear is to stand before God and hear him say "i love you, i love you, i love you, but you wasted your life." i want to hear him say "i love you, i love you, i love you, and well done my good and faithful servant."

but if i'm honest i hold back because i'm afraid of failing, getting down on myself, feeling hopelessly screwed up and incapable of following Jesus, and then being paralyzed by my fear and discouragement. that seems to have been the trend. and i feel like God is worthy of more respect than that. God deserves better than that. He deserves someone who won't be "in and out" all the time. However, i'm sick of holding back. I feel that restlessness of not living wholeheartedly for a greater cause. I live in the shadow of knowing that my life is not totally devoted to something greater and it haunts me. i cannot be here anymore. to do so is suicide.

this is just a snapshot of what's been going on in my heart and mind this week. may the lord be good to me, be patient, and bring it to completion.