Looking for the Promised Community

I arrived late, because I over-slept. But I made it.

I was made later still by lack of parking. I drove around and around but couldn’t find a single space available. No one was in the parking lot to guide me to another place to park, or give me permission to create one. So I was on my own. I finally made my own parking space in the parking lot. Had I not been determined to be there, no matter how late I was, I would not have stayed. What was the point? It seemed no one there really cared if I, or anyone else as late as I, stayed or not because no one was outside to help with the obvious lack of parking.

I walked into the building, but there was no one there to greet me or guide me to a place to sit. I entered the room, which was very dark because the overhead lights were off and nothing but a few bright lamps lit the space. I stood in the doorway for quite a while, visible to most, if not all, the people, as I scoured the dimly lit crowd for a friendly face. One kind, recent acquaintance cheerfully greeted me, but the seats by him were filled. No one ever got up to lead me to an empty seat. Everyone was too busy talking to people around them, their friends.

Finally, as the musicians began to play again, I saw one friendly face and made my way to her chair. After a warm, long hug — we hadn’t seen each other in weeks — we chatted briefly and I thought to sit at her feet, since there weren’t any other free chairs nearby and still no one was offering to help me find one.

That’s when I heard it. The voice of my kindred spirit. I turned and saw him clearing a chair for me. Of course he would! He knows. He knows what its like to be in my place. He knows what real community is about. He understands that it must be purposeful and intentional, not random and "organic", whatever that means.

I sat with him the rest of the time.

I listened to a "talk" about community. About how it must be organic — yet no explanation was given what that means or what that looks like — about how it just happens and no amount of "systems" will make it sprout or grow; about how someone wants to move here because of the accidental and incidental "community" that exists when people unintentionally run into each other in the grocery store or at the local coffee shop. Big city flight to the appearances of community offered by a small town neighborhood.

I listened and felt sad. Sad for the speaker and sad for all who listened. If the speaker was describing what community at this place looked like, I didn’t want any part of that "organic" stuff. I’d just experienced a lack of welcome or help. If that’s what he considers community, no thanks. I can get that at the grocery store.

Real community rarely just happens. It has to be created. It has to be nurtured. And it has to be intentional. The kind of community described in the "talk" by the email-writer-big-city-mover soon to be in Nashville isn’t the kind we as followers of Christ are called to. It’s accidental. It’s nice. It’s good. And it should be used as an open door. But it’s not the real deal. The real stuff lies beyond the doors of communal living.

Real community is intentional. It is created when people intentionally build it, not just accidentally run into each other at Kroger. That’s nice and fun and wonderful and all, but what if the person who needs community doesn’t live in your neighborhood? What if they are at your work? What if they walked into your "gathering" just off the street?

What if I was that person? I would not have found it yesterday morning. I was not sought out by anyone who didn’t already know me (and very few do at this point, most of the folks I know having left already). No one was in the parking lot to help, even though there is a very, very obvious need for that. No one came to my aid as a stood as obvious as a naked statue at the "pulpit" of a Southern Baptist sanctuary, obviously in need. Yet no one was there. No one who did not already know me extended community to me. And only two from the other group who did know me sought me out.

Had I been in desperate need, I would have left still in need. And I would not return. Why should I? "Organic" community did not happen for me.

Days Go By

Can you believe it’s already August???? It’s hard to believe over half the year is already gone. It seems so strange to me to think that, in two more days, I’ll have been in Nashville for a year. Wild.

I came with such high hopes and big dreams. I guess that’s the story with just about everyone who comes here. But my dreams weren’t about the music industry. They were about Mosaic Nashville.

I remember dreaming about getting a big old house somewhere near Belmont or Vandy (I
didn’t even know those were "trendy" places at the time) where our team could have meetings and Mosaic LA’s overseas workers (aka missionaries) could stay while visiting our community and sharing what God is doing in their country and with their people. I already had some workers lined up in my mind that I wanted to come — my friends Brian and Lena, Joyce, Brian and Linda, the Clements, the Fudennas, the Harlans, the Burtches…. Oh, I was dreaming big. I had ideas for mission trips and cultural experiences. I was already investigating Nashville’s international flavors and thinking about ways to reach out to the international students.

I had so many hopes for our team! I dreamed of building team unity, of us coming together as co-laborers and growing into close family. No, I never expected us all to be great friends. I dreamed of us being tightly bound brothers and sisters in Jesus. I dreamed of us sweating and toiling and getting gritty and real with one another, and of forever changing the face of Nashville by redefining what it means to be a follower of Jesus (a "Christian") and what it looks like to build community ("church"). I ached for Nashville to know community like I knew (and still know, even though I’m so far away) at Mosaic LA. I still ache for that.

Big dreams. High hopes.

They turned into long days, even longer nights. Realities of team dynamics, of a team who wasn’t indigenous to either Nashville or Mosaic LA (save two of us), lack of team unity, a leader who didn’t know how to build team unity, chaos and lack of planning doomed our efforts from the start. Not to mention the logical chaos of seven people moving to a new city, looking for housing and jobs while also trying to get to know each other.

Then our leader left to take care of urgent personal crises. I was ready to bail. But Jamie, sweet Jamie, came in fighting and convinced me to stay. For a few months I thought perhaps my dreams could become reality. I even dared to dream again; new dreams, altered by the new reality of our little, but growing, Mosaic plant.
But some things end up being too good to be true. And soon enough, change came again, and chaos returned.

Perhaps I’m the only one in chaos now. Perhaps this dream I had wasn’t meant for Mosaic Nashville. Perhaps God has other things for me. I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I don’t have ANY answers.

But I DO know one thing: God brought me out here. This is where I belong. Maybe not for forever, but definitely for now. I felt it the moment I arrived, and every day since. Even with all the uncertainty in my life — all the where will I live? where will I work? How will I make ends meet? Who will be my friend? — I am still convinced beyond all reason that I belong here. I belong in Nashville. Every fiber of my being shouts it out every day, with every tree, every thunderstorm, every firefly, every sunset, every warm, muggy evening I experience. Its as if I were made for this place. Perhaps it’s just the Crockett blood in me rejoicing that I’ve finally come home…. but I really think its something God put in me long ago that’s finally getting its chance to fly.

I must confess, finding myself feeling once again community-less and once again without a roommate and in need of a place to live by mid-October, feels frustratingly like I have made no progress at all. Yet I know I have. I know so much better whom I can trust (and whom I can’t), what I want, what I need, what’s important, even invaluable, to me, and who I am.

I know these things because God has walked with me every single day of the last year. He’s made His presence powerfully known, whispered His love to me every day, loved on me, talked to me, opened my eyes to new insight and reminded me of lessons past, fought with me, wrestled me to the ground and broken my hip so I’d remember our bout (oh, how I treasure our fights!! The fact that He loves me enough to fight with me rather than just withdraw His love and affection until I "behave" or "get it together" or "live perfectly"!! What a gift it is to be able to get angry and yell and fight back without fear He will stop loving me, or withdraw His hand from me!!). He’s always provided what I need, usually at the last possible second; sometimes I thought He was late, but I was wrong. He has an odd sense of timing that is uniquely His own, but it always proves itself Good. He has taught me so many wonderful things! Given me such incredible gifts! Every thunderstorm, every firefly, every snowflake precious God-kisses on my cheek! By knowing God, and wrestling with Him over the questions in my heart, I know myself better. And I see a little clearer who it is He made me to be, and what He dreams for me.

I know that God gave me passion. And the passions I have, and the dreams borne from those passions, must find a place to nest. As they do, I will become more of the woman God dreamed up so very long ago.

Sacramental

sac·ra·men·tal adj. – Consecrated or bound by or as if by a sacrament; consecrated; anointed

This was a fun little quiz. Take it yourself and let me know what your results are.


You scored as Sacrament model. Your model of the church is Sacrament. The church is the effective sign of the revelation that is the person of Jesus Christ. Christians are transformed by Christ and then become a beacon of Christ wherever they go. This model has a remarkable capacity for integrating other models of the church.

Sacrament model

95%

Mystical Communion Model

78%

Servant Model

39%

Herald Model

39%

Institutional Model

11%

What is your model of the church? [Dulles]
created with QuizFarm.com

Dust

I saw a great little DVD called "Dust" last night. Rob Bell talked about being a rabbi’s disciple and what it really means. It was so rich with gold dust, things I’ve heard and yet never knew, things I’d been taught but never understood and things I’d forgotten in the passion of following Jesus.

Like this passage, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matt 29:11)

I’ve never really understood that. Someone last night joked that when they were a kid they thought Jesus was talking about egg-yokes. I always pictured one of those wooden things you use to connect two oxen or cows or something together to pull something. You know, the things that look like a guillotine noose, just minus the blade. Nice image to associate with Jesus….

But Rob Bell explained that back in the time that Jesus lived, Rabbi’s often took on disciples. No, they chose disciples. One had to be chosen to be a disciple of a rabbi. And The rabbi chose disciples he believed could learn all that he knew and become like him. It became a saying of a rabbi to his disciple to "take my yoke", which literally meant "become like me." It had less to do with "slavery" or "being bound" to something — as today’s teachings often tell us — than it had to do with learning and becoming.

When you became a rabbi’s disciple, you followed him wherever he went. Often, at the end of the day you would be caked in the mud and dirt of all the places your rabbi had been. It was seen as a mark of a true disciple and a saying arose, "May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi."

I recently found Matt 11:29 in the Message "version" (whatever its called). "Walk with me and work with me–watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly." This really gets that point across; that Jesus, our Rabbi, our Teacher as well as God and Savior and Redeemer and Lord, is inviting us to be like Him. Not just to follow Him, obey Him, learn from Him, but be like Him.

I remember as a child learning that I could be "like" Jesus — that I "should" be like Jesus. But in the same breath, I was told no one will ever be like Jesus because we are just human and He is God. What my child’s mind took away from those lessons is that, while I "should" strive to be like Jesus, I should never expect to be like Him.

As I listened to Rob Bell on that DVD, heard him repeat again, "The rabbi doesn’t choose you unless he thinks you can be like him." I heard Jesus whisper to me, "are you listening? Do you hear? Do you believe? Will you believe?"

Rob went on to explain that when Peter stepped out of the boat and into the water, he was proving he really was a disciple of his rabbi. He was determined to be like his rabbi and do what his rabbi did. If Jesus was walking on the water, then Peter wanted to.

When Peter started to sink, Jesus caught him and gently asked, "why did you doubt?" Who was Peter doubting? Not, Jesus — Jesus wasn’t sinking. He didn’t doubt Jesus, his rabbi, could walk on the water. Peter doubted himself. He doubted that he could do what his Rabbi did. Remember, rabbis chose their disciples based on a confidence the rabbi had that the disciple could be like him.

As Rob explained this, I again heard Jesus whisper, "Do you hear that? Are you listening? Do you believe? I believe. I have faith you can."
These two passages have been rattling around my spirit for several weeks now. God keeps pulling me back to them over and over and I finally see the connection between the two. I see what Jesus wants me learn right now:

I can be like Him. He. Chose. Me. He chose me because He knew I could be like Him. Jesus has faith in me. Isn’t that the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard??? Jesus has faith in US. Jesus has faith that we can follow Him and that we can be like Him. Not just obey. Not just follow. Not just journey together. But be like Him.

Rob Bell closed the study guide with the following words. They have echoed in my heart and spirit since I first read them:

"May you believe in God. But may you come to see that God believes in you. May you have faith in Jesus. But may you come to see that Jesus has faith that you can be like him. A person of love and compassion and truth. A person of forgiveness, and peace, and grace, and joy, and hope. And may you be covered in the dust of your rabbi, Jesus."

“Doing Life Together”

Is it just me, or is this phrase getting old?

I know. I’m being heretical here. Especially for people in the emerging church genre. It’s just… well, maybe I’m just getting old and jaded.

But it seems to me that "Doing life together" is the new hip thing to say/do, like it’s cousin, the Hollywood "doing lunch" thing. Doing lunch wasn’t always empty of real relationship, but often it was. People said, "Let’s do lunch!" and that usually meant a nice meal and lots of conversation – ranging from "doing a deal" to finessing a relationship for a future opportunity to "do a deal".

I get the same feeling from ‘let’s do life together’. It’s the new church-speak. And it feels as churchy to me as "I’ll pray for you". Not that either of those things is bad, they just don’t feel sincere. I realize there are some who truly are sincere when they say these things. I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about the rest of us who started using it as a short-hand and now it’s just a "bless-you"-after-someone-sneezes kind of reaction-phrase. We say it, but it’s lost its meaning.

Do a Google search on "doing life together" and you’ll come up with pages and pages — I quit after about 50. And still I don’t have a good idea what it means.

Life Groups I know. Community I know. Our oikos’ (our sphere of influence) I know. Challenging each other to walk along side of people, to enter their world and leave an imprint on them in the name of Jesus, simply by being who God created us to be; Encouraging one another to make disciples — to invite people to join us on our journey with Jesus and then teach them what Jesus has taught us — and to be disciples of Jesus ourselves, and to be mentors and mentorees; developing friendships, not just the casual kind, but the deep, rich, healthy relationships that last many years and are marked by conflict, forgiveness, humility and grace — these things I know. These things I want to do.

But "doing life together"…What is that? What does it mean, really? What does it look like? What does it feel like? Can you tell me?

India’s Big Screen Ideas for Jesus Followers

The price for following Jesus in India just went up.

Big-screen infomercial in India discourages conversions – (BP)

The president of the Indian Association of Producers, Artists and Technicians of Short Films and Television Programs, Devendra Khandelwal, said the public service-type short film was made to “educate” cinema audiences about Gujarat’s Freedom of Religion Act of 2003, Compass reported. The law prohibits conversion “by the use of force or allurement or by fraudulent means.”

As described by Compass, the act stipulates that would-be converts must obtain permission from district officials before they convert. Priests or religious officials also must contact district authorities before a conversion takes place. Failure to comply with these requirements can lead to imprisonment for up to four years and a maximum fine of 100,000 rupees ($2,294).

What people don’t get is that the cost of "conversion" is much higher than any monetary price. If not handled properly and with respect for the familial ties, especially one’s elders, the price is exclusion from one’s own family, community and society.

What India needs is not more Christian "converts". What it needs is Hindu Christ devotees, who worship only Jesus because He has proven He is worthy of exclusive devotion; and because of their love and commitment to Him they honor their families, their culture, their heritage and their country. Only then will the great news of Abundant Life in Christ spread across India.

I wonder what the American Church — we who claim to follow Jesus in this country — would look like if we had this obstacle?

Being Real with Ourselves

I found this blog, Being Real with Ourselves by following a link from my stats report. Neal Christopher is a pastor at a church called Sandals in my high school hometown of Riverside.

I really like the title of his blog. It just struck a cord with me the moment I first stepped "into" it. So often in my life I have not been real with myself! How can I be real with others if I can’t even be so with the one human being who knows me inside and out — ME?

And if I can’t be real with me, how can I be real with God? If I’m hiding from myself, who knows all (or at least most) of my secrets (some I’ve hidden so well, I no longer "remember" them) but is biased and subjective enough to always see things "my way" —if I can’t be real with such a biased audience, then of course I’m going to hide from the One, the only One, who can see all of me, who knows my every thought before I do, and knows even the secrets I’ve hidden from myself, and Who is not subjective and biased, but Just and Righteous.

"Being Real With Ourselves." I want that. I want that kind of community. I’m trying to be that now. It’s hard to break a lifetime habit of running. But I like the freedom I experience when I stop running and just get real.

You’ve got all things suspended
All things connected
Nothing was forgotten
Your love was perfect
You are Healer and
You know what’s broken
We’re not a mystery to you.

Mended – by Nathan and Christy Nockels

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing

But I’m moving forward anyway.

I’ve been looking around for new places to live. And I haven’t been paying too close attention to my budget to know if I really "should" be looking at places that expensive. Heck, I have a couple of months before I need to move, I guess I could afford a little time to dream (Wendy, are you sure you don’t want to move out here???).

I long for a community, especially one with some of my peers in it. I know that probably sounds retarded, but, well, it’s just that it would be so nice to have some older women here in Nashville I could actually hang out with. I miss my girlfriends back in LA. Women like Wendy, Kat, Leticia, Kim, Kim South, Rachel, Holly, Kristin, Joyce, Deb — and Conna!!!! (who’s no longer in LA). I miss being able to be with women who really understand and get where I’m at in life. Women who get me. Women I can feel comfortable with and just let my hair down; who get my jokes and movie references because they actually saw those movies in the theatre. —- Wow. I never thought I’d say such things. I sound so old, don’t I.

I guess that’s the truth I’ve realized recently. I really am old. At least compared to all these young girls around me at Mosaic Nashville. Youn 20s, some still in college, or just recently out. To them life is fresh and ripe with possibilities. They’re too young to understand crushed dreams, major heartbreak and the crashing in of reality and time. Oh, they think they have. I remember those days. Every new lesson from God was an earthshattering event. Every break up or crush that didn’t reciprocate was cause for deep soul-searching as to what was wrong with me (or him) that it didn’t work out. I was focused on God and living out my dreams and thought I knew pretty much all I needed to know. And every single woman around 40 was a person to be pitied and avoided. Pitied for her sad situation in life and avoided so I wouldn’t have to think about the possibility that I might end up just like her.

But then I got older. My 30s arrived and I started truly appreciating all that older women have to offer. I miss women like Karin, Carol, Kristin, Norma, Laura and Kim who were older and wiser than me and poured into me, gave me such sound counsel and encouragement. Its been hard to be the oldest woman in the group. Heck, the oldest person in the group. And I’m not even 40 yet.

I want to find some community with real women, not young girls still dreaming of womanhood. —No offense to all you 20-somethings out there.

I have found one woman friend, and I think I found another this weekend. It was so good to talk to someone older than me that could understand and relate to all I’ve gone through!! Two is a good start, don’t you think?

So off I go. Into God knows what. Looking for God knows what.

I hope I find it.

The End

It’s done. It is no more. What began as a small rag-tag group meeting in the park last August ended with a much larger and somewhat different group meeting in "the living room" for the last time.

Stones marked our journey, as we piled them into what will eventually become a lamp. I put one in just to mark that I was there once, like scratching my name into my desk on the last day of school.

I’m sad. Looking around the room tonight, I knew I had been a part of something unique and special. And I knew that we will probably never capture that again.

Some may argue that that isn’t a thing to mourn. They are mistaken. Every loss in life is worthy of mourning. We must take time to mourn, even the small losses in life. We must take time to acknowledge that our hearts are rended each time something or someone we love and have invested in is separated from us. If we don’t take that time, the wounds of our loss will become infected with bitterness.

I’m exhausted too. My eyes want to close even as I type. It’s been a heck of an emotional rollercoaster ride the last week or so, which is more wearing on the body than hard labor. And I feel it, to my bones.

But I also feel released, free. I’m no longer obligated or invested in Mosaic. It’s as if some invisible ties to "the past" have been cut (not sure what that means exactly, it’s just the way I feel) and I’m free to investigate the rest of Nashville, see what’s out there and if, perhaps, God brought me here for a different purpose than I thought.

This is what the LORD says– he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together, and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick:

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." — Isa 43:16-19

Apology

As I’ve thought over my posts on the Mosaic Nashville forum and over the posts here in my blog, I have come to the strong conviction that I really messed up here.

I have offended many and hurt others — and even done both to many people. That was never my intention or my desire. My blog has always just been an extension of my own mind; a place I could free put in print the things I am currently chewing on or have to say — to whom ever may stop by. It was never intended as a weapon with which to hurt people with my words.

I have heard from someone I care deeply about who shared with me that many of the AM Mosaic people are talking about my posts and wondering what’s going on with me. Because they don’t know me, or know my heart, my words have confused, offended and baffled them. It had been heavy on my heart even yesterday that I had, with all good intentions to the contrary, completely screwed up by speaking up on the forum and leaving links leading here where my words could hurt or offend people I don’t even know yet.

I am deeply grieved by even the possibility that my words have caused hurt and offense when my heart and intentions in writing those words were just the opposite. I’m so sorry!

Will you forgive me?