Courage

Doug and I will be joining the Toronto Mennonite Church later this month. It is so Duke Divinity to be becoming Mennonite. However, Doug has found really satisfying work on the streets of Toronto ministering to the homeless and is completely at home with the Mennonites. I can't say that I really have any theological disputes. I am still longing for the day in which the Amish rise up, get on their horses, and start preaching pacifism in the US like the early circuit riders. Ahhh! If that is not a pleasant dream. Two weeks ago a very timid Marine came to our church to speak... a war resister.... who fled the war and Iraq in part because his superiors commanded him to practice shoot to kill-make-them-look like insurgents later policy. In part because of the dehumanization of the fellow soldiers he met there. He told a story of another soldier pulling out a wad of picture (including a marine lighting a cigarette off a corpse, a man with his head split open, and a man crying over a dead baby) and laughed and glouted about them. It was clear that all this guy ever wanted to do was be a soldier. That he had no idea what his place in the world was now. That he was harldy ready to be placed in with a crowd of pacifists or to be a public figure in any way. I left very impressed with his moral courage. It is clear that this young hispanic fellah lost everything: his cultural mooring, his occupation, his familes support, when he decided that the war practices were immoral. Of course we all know that such people are always liars, pawns of the left, fabricating their anti-American stories because they are not brave enough to stand combat. Ridicules. Lord Jesus. Alone Lord. Please free us from our idols.
Chilling New York Times Article!

More accurate info

The name Yanna Corin. The birth weight 6lbs 4 oz. No need to give oxygen at birth. Heather is going to get to see the baby today having got a pass to go to the other hospital.

Another Update

They are doing a C-section. The bad news is that Heather is not going to be allowed to follow the baby to the other hospital for its assessment. In fact they want to keep her in bed for 4 days!

Keep Praying!!

Heather Tigchelaar

She is at 8 cm.

A prayer

Lord God, Creator of the Universe who brings life out of naught and who hovers over the water of our chaos bringing order and shaping justice. We Pray for Heather and her baby, for Mike... We have long been asking for a healing. Perhaps, it will be a healing by the efficacy of Doctors. But, Angela has prodded us to ask for a miracle. We still ask! And Hope! Keep Heather safe. Keep her strong. Fill her with the strength to make a womb for this babe in this world in her strong fierce love and yours. Amen

Latest News on Heather

No new news. Heather is having a long labor. This morning at about 11 she was still at 5cm. Keep praying.

Struggling to be born(e)

We are still nervously awaiting news about Heather and the baby. Writing a blog entry gives me an excuse to be on the web so that I can check my email every couple minutes. Last night Doug and I had dinner with another couple interested in the community venture. They have quite a lot of experience in community living so I am sure we could learn much from them. Tomorrow Steve will be moving in.

Doug, Jo, Sim and I have lived in Parkdale for almost a year now. The community commenced in late November. From that perspective we are making good progress on community living. But, with Angela and Ben away most of this month and Doug and I gone for most of next month things seem pretty scattered. I am anticipating a big coversation in late June about community matters and maybe a camping trip. :) If any of you are interested in coming to join us feel free.

Just checked my email. No news! Keep praying and I'm going to try and call Heather's dad.
Jodie

Call for Prayers

My dear friend Heather is in labor with her baby today. They are thinking that they might have to do open heart surgery on the babe soon after the birth. Pray that won't be necessary. That the baby's heart is healed.

What People Are Up To

I added two links on the side bar--one called Doug arguing and the other called Jessica's work. They are just that. Doug posts with some regularity on a theory and theology website.
Here is a taste: Here is Doug I also found this moving publication by our friend John K. I am not sure of the date. It looks like Angie is running:


Ben is going to cross the podium and from henceforth will officially be Doctor Ben.

All this news (except Ben's) is brought to you by Google and Jodie.

Some Thoughts

Now it is feeling like Spring. We have a set of very nice tomato plants sitting on the window sill, rain everyday, the world a riot with purple, Dandelions already to seed, and grass growing faster than one can mow. I have been busy working through 18th century Asylum publications. Of particular interest is an Asylum Literary Magazine from the 1850s. My attention was caught in particular by one article in which the patient viewed the Asylum in light of the New Testament command that if you find yourself persecuted by a city--flee!
Augustine once commented: "Crazy people say and do many incongruous things, things for the most part alien to their intentions and characters, certainly contrary to their good intentions and characters; and when we think about their words and actions, or see them with our eyes, we can scarcely—or possibly we cannot at all—restrain our tears, if we consider their situation as it deserves to be considered." St. Augustine, City of God.

I am hoping that in my work I am capturing some of the pathos and tragedy that Augustine grasps in this selection. Doug is working with such issue in a visceral way as a street pastor with Lazarus Rising. Perhaps, one of us will eventually be able to articulate our thoughts on these matters. For now, we are left a little shy of Augustine's tears, yet still touched by sadness.

New Member

We have invited another person to live here at the home of the PROTESTANT SLACKERS or perhaps at Christian Community Parkdale (CCP)giving us a more Soviet era collective farm feel as is Doug's preference. His name is Steve. He is in his early 60s and perhaps eventually he will chose to write more about himself. This is a big decision for us so please keep us in your prayers. Above are some pictures of the 'hood... In case you were curious.

My ongoing attempt at this act of worship

While this may look like I am posting as Jodie - I'm not....It's Angela sneaking in on an opportunity to post.

I am off tomorrow morning for three weeks in Vancouver. I had visited back in the beginning of April to introduce Jacob to his family and be part of an A Rocha retreat. It was both very hard to be back and a bit like being held in the embrace of the community there and sent off again to Toronto.

The retreat to Galiano Island immersed me in the world of birding, the green and blue colours of God's creation, and what seemed to me, the surreal world of academics, environmentalists, and hands-on people who all have incredibly caring hearts. Well, I don't count myself an academic, I do love God's creation, and have a passion for people and relationships...perhaps I will fit in somewhere. I returned to the paved world of Toronto and wondered in dismay how to make a connection not only between the urban and the wild, but between Toronto and British Columbia, between me and a much different board, between people and A Rocha, and throw in a strong desire for social justice and a yen to meld it with the environmental...so what's my role and where do I start??

I have concluded I am a seed planted. We all will see what grows, trick now is to discover what or who is my water and sunshine.

Christian community:
I was struck recently that in our walk with Christ we move towards becoming more Christ-like. Anyway you put it, we are clay being molded by God, we are running a marathon, we are being born again in a new life. It all comes down to one thing; this is a process, a living into the life God would have us live. There is no majic wand that will make me be full of grace, do my chores on time, love everyone well, not grumble under my breath or push me to clean up my socks laying around the house. Angela, give yourself (and others) a break - we are living into this crazy, chaotic vision God has placed before us.

I am a seed planted with others as a community to be Christ followers to each other and planted in this neighbourhood to be Christ followers to others. This is my ongoing attempt at an act of worship I am just beginning to live out.

Doug's Sermon: Standing in Common by the Name of Jesus

Doug preached the following sermon at the Warden Woods Mennonite Church this morning:

Standing in Common by the Name of Jesus

Drunk? Who? Us? We are not Drunk it is only 9 am in the morning. Thus, Peter, in Acts 2, answers crowds perplexed at a group of uneducated Galileans speaking in the language of the Parthians, Medes, Elamites and a host of others - a host of Israelites gathered in Jerusalem from as far away as Rome for the first national festival since the execution of the agitator from Nazareth. What did THIS mean? Why some scoffed—“THIS-- it is only Rude Galileans and CHEAP wine” other paused to listen to Peter’s speech.
Apocalypse NOW. The Day of the Lord has come. And the Spirit is poured out to overflowing on the flesh of men and women. The vision of Joel is being fulfilled: Daughters will rise up and prophesy! The Very Old shall dream new dreams…slaves shall lift up their voices and be heard .…. And EVERY one who CALLS ON THE NAME OF THE LORD SHALL BE SAVED.
Some more than paused to hear this message. They became faithful. Faithful to a renewed political movement. An extraordinary movement in which all things were held in common.
In the text for this morning Peter and John stand for questioning, questioning for their part in healing a handicapped panhandler. “By what power or by what name did you do this?” What medical board authorized you to heal? Are you properly licensed? What power, dunamas, has moved you to act in such a way? But perhaps this isn’t the question at all. Peter and John insist on attributing the healing to Jesus, but the inquiry seems bent on who authorized them to speak in the temple. They are arrested while preaching and released with a solemn charge to speak no more in Jesus’ name. Over and over again the first few chapters of Acts underscore the importance of the very name of Jesus. It is a question of authority nearly every time. It is a question of power, of political allegiance. The very name of Jesus, it seems, is subversive.

In the Sunday School hour, I spoke with some of you about the causes of homelessness. We made a long list of reasons why people might end up on the street. As I said then, many people suffer the effects of more than one of those reasons. Some people wind up on the street for, really, just one of those reasons. A lost job. An injury or a disability. When I think, however, of people afflicted by a multitude of street issues, my mind goes first a foremost to a man named Jeff. The causes that keep Jeff on the street are legion. The first time I met Jeff, I was on a street outreach walk. I was so new on the job that I didn’t say a word, but only listened as Jeff spoke with my outreach partner. His wheelchair was broken. One of the footrests had been completely destroyed by another fellow on the street whom I later found out had once been Jeff’s lover. Jeff is aboriginal. He would have to wait several days or even weeks before all the bureaucratic work with ODSP could be completed and his wheelchair fixed. Of late, at night, Jeff has taken to plugging his electric wheelchair into a socket on the outside of the building at Sanctuary. He has at least a drinking problem. An empty flask of Listerine sat abandoned under Jeff’s chair the last time I saw him. And, oh yeah, the chair is broken again. One of the wheels completely flat. Jeff has apparently lost any sense of hope. There’s a permanent spot set aside for him at one of the handicap accessible shelters, but he rarely uses it. More often than not, he simply urinates in his chair without so much as an effort to make his way to any number of accessible washrooms in the downtown core. I’ll be honest. I probably have as little hope for Jeff as he does for himself. If the Lord is my Shepherd, he’s certainly not Jeff’s. [pause before slowly reentering exegesis].

The setting for our passage from Acts 4 today is tongues of fire, the spirit overflowing, and a community of women and men living together and sharing all their goods in common. Acts tell us that many became faithful as a result of John and Peter’s Pentecost message. They numbered about 3000 and they took to breaking bread together and to praying. While according to the church’s calendar we remain between the Resurrection and Pentecost, the lectionary reading for today has us circling around Pentecost already. This is what it means to live out the Resurrection. The community of Jesus and the Holy Spirit is growing exponentially. The powers that be are taking notice. But, what really gets the authorities’ attention in a big way is a healing, a healing and a sermon that adds 5,000 to the 3,000 of Pentecost.
Peter and John meet an old, lame beggar at the gate called beautiful. He asks them for money. Peter answers I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you in the NAME of Jesus Christ of NAZARETH. Get up and walk…
And the man “entered the temple with them walking and leaping and praising the Lord.”
Peter takes this opportunity to preach a sermon. He claims that this act of healing is proof that Jesus is who he said. As chapter 3 verse 16 puts it: It is faithfulness to the NAME of Jesus, his name itself that has made this man strong.”
In the middle of such speaking Peter and John are seized. Fearing perhaps the same fate as their Lord they come before the rulers, elders, scribes and the chief priest, Caiphas to be questioned. It should be noted in passing that there are no Pharisees here. Eventually, Peter and John are freed. Those who have taken them captive find no way to punish them, as chapter four says later, because of the people, who were praising God for what had happened. Along the way, Peter and John speak the famous words “We must obey God rather than men, for we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard.”
As the story continues in chapter 4, John and Peter return to their friends, where there is a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit. And, in a repeat of chapter two, we are told in verse 32 that, “the whole group of those who were now faithful were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.”
A few weeks ago, I spent time in Ottawa at Street Level, a conference for “Truthtellers and Peacemakers” put on by the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada’s National Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness. Sister Sue Mosteller and Bill van Buren of L’Arche Daybreak were there to focus our attention on a spirituality of brokenness and presence through stories, joke telling, and reflections upon art and Scripture. Of the plethora of poignant stories shared at the conference, perhaps most poignant for me was Bill’s story. Bill, who has an intellectual disability and a high-pitched, contagious laugh, was the first core member of L’Arche and traveled and spoke for years with Henri Nouwen. Over a long period of time, Nouwen and others urged Bill to make a life book, a collection of letters, pictures, and other scraps from his life. After constant refusal, Bill finally agreed with the caveat that nothing from his first sixteen years of life be included. You see, before Bill arrived at L’Arche, he was homeless. Decades later, Bill is one of the fortunate ones. Rather than revolving his way through asylums, group homes, boarding rooms, and further stints on the street like so many others similarly situated, Bill has found supportive housing in the context of a permanent Christian community, for the entirety of his adult life. This story is an inspiration for the work of Lazarus Rising, indeed.

And as I sat listening to Bill and others at the conference, a name and a face kept forcing their way into my mind. There’s an older man who is a vital part of the community at Sanctuary. In his early sixties. Hunched over a good bit. Long white beard. He faithfully leads outreach walks on Monday and Friday evenings. If you ever come out for one of Lazarus Rising’s walks on the third Friday of every month, you’ll meet Frank. I’ve learned a lot already from Frank. At first, I guess I just assumed that he was a staff member. But he’s not. Just before we went to Ottawa, we learned that Frank has been on the streets again for a few months. Unlike Jeff, Frank is one of those who is out on the street for a single reason. At some point in his fifties Frank lost a decent job as the result of a merger, a job he’d held in an office downtown for years and years. At his age and with his routinized disposition, Frank was simply not able to begin a new career from scratch. He has a reasonable sized RSP that matures when he’s sixty-five, one for which he’d incur sizable penalties for early withdrawal. The folks who run welfare have found out about the RSP and are insisting that he has to take the penalty, make use of those funds now, and that he can go back on welfare when he is penniless again. But Frank is loathe to take any sort of penalty, he’s had sixty-five as a goal in his mind for some time, and so, he’s on the streets again.

As I racked my brain in Ottawa, wondering who might take Frank in, I considered challenging Mennonites in the GTA to take Frank or someone like him in when I had opportunities to speak such as this one this morning. But then I got to thinking, you know, my wife and kids and I live with another couple and their kids in a situation that’s trying to model itself on these early chapters of Acts, would we be willing to take Frank in? Frank has no substance abuse problems, no psychiatric diagnoses, no history of criminal activity, and yet there is something about the way our society works that tells us that it would be dangerous, wrong, extraordinary to take Frank in. Someone else should do it. It’s the government’s responsibility to deal with these people. The real problem is with the welfare folks, right? What’s needed is more money, lest stringent regulations. But what about the kingdom of God? What would the folks in Acts do? Well, I couldn’t get these questions out of my head. And so, we are in the process of seriously considering inviting Frank into our community house.

You know, someone asked me just the other day if I really thought an end could be put to poverty in this world. I assumed they had in mind the recent head-line grabbing, bracelet wearing “Make Poverty History” campaign. I was and will be rather blunt. Taking a very small percentage or even a very large percentage of G-8 countries Gross Domestic Product and setting it aside for the poor will not end poverty. Poverty is and will be a continual by-product of our entire economic way of life. We could get everyone off the streets tonight, and a new crop of homeless folks would begin arriving in the morning. An assault on poverty can only be launched from an entirely other political and economic perspective. In point of fact, these early chapters in Acts finds us near the beginning of what is the most fecund moment in revolutionary political history. This is a time before the Constantinian sell-out of the Church to state violence. This is a time before a deep rift between Jewish and Gentile Christians. This is a time when Jesus’ teachings regarding wealth and poverty are taken so seriously that Church members begin holding all things in common. And this is also a time when Jesus’ disciples are determined to multiply into militant cells. In short, from the Resurrection through the first fourteen chapters of Acts, we have record of a time when a group of pacifist radicals who reject the law of empire in favor of God’s law are militantly recruiting for membership in their communist collective. Can you even imagine the violence of reactions to a similarly committed collective in North America today? Communism. Pacifism. Radical Missionary Recruitment. A rejection of secular Law. Now that is a recipe for a political nightmare.
But what about Jeff? Our native friend in the wheelchair? I began by talking about Jeff because he’s someone I can’t even imagine reaching. I’d like to say that the Holy Spirit moves as she will. I’d like to say that its still possible that a Christian follower of a radical political movement might eventually be able to pass by Jeff on the way to worship and say “In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise up and walk.” It would be lovely to rejoice with a paraplegic “walking, and leaping, and praising God.” But you know what, I can’t honestly say that I believe that that will happen. Do I believe that God could and might still do such things? I constantly tell myself that I do. [long pause]

As we move in the life of the church toward Pentecost, it would be lovely to see the Holy Spirit create a community of 3,000 Christian Communists. It would be lovely to be a witness to the type of sign or wonder that would immediately add an additional 5,000 people to share all things in common. 8,000 or more radically faithful people of God with a common purse. And, what’s more. All of this happens in Acts, in a population the size a small North American town!
Could it happen here? Now? The twenty-first century? In Toronto? It is only in the name and by the power that has gathered us together here this fourth Sunday of Easter that we even dare dream such things. [more quietly] Jesus. Of Nazareth. The Messiah of Israel.

Mayday at Calvin.

To celebrate this year's May Day I am planning on learning Spanish. Perhaps, soon you will see side-by-side my rudimentary Spanish with my rudimentary English. If anyone is interested I am including a link to this years Chime's spoof edition. Spoofing daily devoes and DeVos proved inimical to the new Calvin spirit. Here is the pirated version: www.calvinspoof.com
Rumour has it some chime's staffers head rolled and they were banned from printing it.

Commencement speeches are not authorized by the administration. Oh no, it is just an honor to have a sitting president. However, Chimes clearly now requires official authorization. The donors we are courting prefer saber rattling to rib tickling.

Spring Semester

I am hating schools with and almost pure hatred right now. Almost any other works is more appealing than finishing up this last paper of the semester.

For a second I will pretend that I have actually enjoyed Spring. Ahhh Spring. There is nothing quite like the filigree of buds against the true blue sky.. and yes, with ee cummings I enjoy the all that is true and infinite and yes.... I am not feeling reborn though. Nope. No Osiris here.. No Golden bough of spring. I am still in the garlic rut of mud of the nearly spring. So, I am worrying about school work again. I need to stop!

Easter is all over. I have had random thoughts of taking in Eastern Orthodox Easter next week as everything just seemed to have gone by too fast. We attended church up in Buckley and instead of a strident version of "Up From the Grave He Arose" we sang some bland chorus that I've never sung before and will never sing again. Whatever side your are on in the politics of praise songs... They can neither carry Easter Joy nor Good Friday pathos. The only way I can recover from "Were You There?" is to confidently sing Christ, the Lord is Risen Today! This year I had the sorrow with out the release. I've tried to sing "Christ, The Lord is Risen Today" by myself but the Alelluias always end up sounding like cat torture.

An unplanned, unexpected life...

I suppose the title brings unexpected pregnancy to mind. I have been thinking to day of the iron cage of planned life. I seems that if we as modern American could say in a word what makes for a good life it would be that it is planned. It is in are planning in minutiae, perhaps more than the culture of death, that makes the Unexpected pregnancy such a big deal. Perhaps, all this planning is the origin of the culture of death?

Perhaps, this only my way of justifying what is anything but a planned exsistence: The dishes all over the kitchen, the dried boogers on Simeon's nose, and the lapse in thoughtful replies to old friends conform to no aesthetic. If when the day is done we are not any steps closer to financial ruin, we can still get to our beds at night, and our children have been kept sound--we count it a successful day, crawl into bed and comment that "Tomorrow we need to wash these sheets."

But, I do think that the whole project of creating shalom in our homes, and in our sub-conscious does tend to mitigate against (at least sometimes) being agents of shalom in our worlds, and churches, and amongst our friends, and old tired bothersome family members [the one's who no longer look cute with strawberry Jelly smeared on their faces.]

All that said. I'd really like to get organized. I'd really like to enact a plan. And I am hoping the next month things will look more sane and our house could reflect a hospitable welcome. But, I still suspect that upon coming into our homes you might first be welcomed by two toddlers with noses still red from a recent bogger scrubbing (one of whom could tell you if you asked her about the mess that is hiding up in Mama and Dada's room.

a friday night discussion

Doug and I have decided to post together. Dear Friends, it has come to my attention that (no, I don't like that) ... how bout. Lets just go watch our friday night movie.

No, I think that we should post something together so that we can be exemplars of how a good marriage should work! (J)

Why is watching movies on a Friday night a bad thing?

I am &*(&*(& sick of being the only one who posts to this &*(&*(& blog!

But, I just posted earlier today! Give credit where credit is due.

Well, you SHOULD post as it is more or less the case that Robert and Lauren are the only ones who read this thing anyways. I know they like me and all. But, really they are looking for news about YOU.

John Knoester.

That reminds me is his middle name Clarence or Carl? I have been under the misconception for well-nigh 6 years that it is Clarence and then I get his Wedding invite today and it says Carl. What do you make of that???

John would rather share a middle name with the first name of a famous theologian than with the angel from ITs A WONDERFUL lIFE?

Well, does it really matter they are both Universalists?

Angela and Ben and Jacob (but not Charlie) are in Montreal.

What does that have to do with John Carl?

I don't know.

You know what Doug. I think we should go watch that movie. So much for showing how well we work together as a married couple.

Yes, forget about all that exemplar crap.

Update on my work

I recently attended a conference for “Truthtellers and Peacemakers” put on by the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada’s National Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness. Many there were impressed by Street Level’s clarion call for evangelicals who walk alongside poor folks “to add to material action a clear, creative, and challenging public voice,” a public voice insisting “that homelessness will be a priority” for Canadian “policy makers concerned with justice and mercy.” Almost everyone there signed their names to the Roundtable’s Ottawa Manifesto (http://www.streetlevel.ca/manifesto/) which was published in last Monday’s Ottawa Citizen. As an American leery of nationalism, I was nevertheless blessed simply to be present with three hundred and fifty delegates, 75% of whom occupy their time as front line workers with those who are street involved. Steve Bell sang. Ten year old Hannah Talyor of the Ladybug Foundation delighted the crowd by speaking in one of the plenary sessions, and Sister Sue Mosteller and Bill van Buren of L’Arche Daybreak daily focused our attention on a spirituality of brokenness through stories, joke telling, and reflections upon art and Scripture. In two of our other plenary sessions, Sanctuary’s Greg Paul called our attention to the potency we have been gifted with in the stories of those we encounter, while Rick Tobias of Yonge Street Mission spoke prophetically of the absolute necessity for those who would fight poverty to stand against violence, especially violence against women and children. My imagination was fired by a workshop on mobilizing volunteers and Ray Aldred’s session on First Nations reiterated just how important an intergenerational atmosphere is both for those who find themselves socially isolated and for the wider church. Of the plethora of poignant stories shared at the conference, perhaps most poignant for me was the story of Bill van Buren. Bill, who has an intellectual disability and a high-pitched, contagious laugh, was the first core member of L’Arche and traveled and spoke for years with Henri Nouwen. Over a long period of time, Nouwen and others urged Bill to make a life book, a collection of letters, pictures, and other scraps from his life. After constant refusal, Bill finally agreed with the caveat that nothing from his first sixteen years of life be included. You see, before Bill arrived at L’Arche, he was homeless. Decades later, Bill is one of the fortunate ones. Rather than revolving his way through asylums, group homes, boarding rooms, and further stints on the street like so many others similarly situated, Bill has found supportive housing in the context of a permanent Christian community for the entirety of his adult life. An inspiration for Lazarus Rising indeed.

Update

This is a busy month for us Protestant Slackers. Jodie's papers are all due: one on typology and Roger Williams, another on eugenics and a 20th century missiologist, and the last one on a 19th century literary magazine published by asylum patients. Doug just returned from a conference on street ministry. Ask him about it. Angela and baby Jacob are off to Vancouver for a meeting with the board of A' Roche. Ben is off to Montreal to conduct some experiments, and Johanna, Jacob, and Simeon daily learn more than any of us could handle at our current stage of development. :) We enjoyed Heather's visit. We are still praying daily for her little baby. Heather is beautiful and healthy looking and full of love and spunk and courage. I just puttered out on the lenten reflection. I wish I would have kept going.

News

Heather is coming to visit tomorrow.

Jacob is rolling over.
Simeon just got two molars.
Johanna learned to write "JO"
Angela is applying to work PT in food security.
Holly got sprayed by a skunk
Doug was commissioned today with at Toronto Menn. Church for work with the homeless in Toronto.
Here is the liturgy:
People: As God’s Spirit calls and the church commissions,
the servants of Jesus Christ are scattered in places of need
throughout the world.
In company with your faithful people in every age,
we have called out those with gifts for your service, O God.
Fill Doug with the love of Jesus Christ
and the power of the Holy Spirit
as he carries out the ministry of Toronto area Mennonite churches

Doug:

Grant me wisdom, patience and hope when I falter.
Give me joy in serving your church
and keep me faithful to this calling to minister to the people of Toronto’s streets.
May they be for us an icon, opening to the riches of your presence.

People: We accept your service as an extension of this congregation
and pledge our support of your ministry.
We join with you in seeking first the peaceable reign of God.
Consider your assignment as God at work in you,
ministering to human need.
May you be given a deep love for those among whom you will work,
And may Jesus Christ be known through you in word and deed.
Our prayers will continually support you.
Go now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit

Hymn 545 Be Thou My Vision


Jodie gave here first lectue on the Scopes trial: Here's a taste
In the aftermath of the Scopes trial, the fundamentalists seemed for a long time to disappear. In reality they had moved under ground. Leaving the hollowed halls of Princeton Seminary, the biology department at Harvard, and the First Presbyterian Church of NY, they begin to establish or strengthen their own institutions - places with out recognizable names, places like Buckley Gospel Tabernacle, and The Open Bible Church, booming churches such as Thomas Road Baptist and colleges such as the Bible Institute of Los Angeles - they began to establish Elementary schools, secondary schools, and colleges, seminaries and new denominations with new mission boards and new popular figures. In the mid 1970s in the wake of Vietnam, Roe v. Wade, the turbulent sixties, and Watergate, the fundamentalists reemerged in American Political Life. Jimmy Carter’s more benign Christianity can be seen in this light, but it was ultimately rejected and replaced by the strength of Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson’s Moral Majority which was critical in ousting Carter in favour of Ronald Regan. By the mid 1980’s, fundamentalism had initiated one of the largest cultural revolutions that America has ever known. It took up lessons and language from the black civil rights movement and organized itself into a stunning and well oiled machine.
Today, originally fundamentalist organizations have broadened their tents politically and religiously and go more often under the banner of Evangelicalism. Once again, those opposed to evolution have entered into the fray in Ivy League institutions, national politics, and the media. Today, however, there is one crucial difference from Dayton, TN 1925. The spokesmen for evangelical opposition to evolution are no William Jennings Bryans. Rather than a popular democratic progressivist opposed to big business, eugenics, and militarism, the champions of Creationism today are fully aligned with the forces of economic Darwinian capitalism, might makes right militarism, and those who oppose unions, social welfare, and affirmative action. Meanwhile, the democratic left seems not to have learned the lessons of past eugenic programs and insists on the scientific merit of renewed attempts to clean up the human gene pool.

Community Meeting from Angela

Dear friends,

This weekend our new community got together to dream and plan. No name yet - except for Jodie's appropo Protestant Slackers - in response to being a block away from the Catholic Worker houses. Perhaps we should come up with a translated version of it in latin to make it sound cool.

My Brother's family house-swapped with us - so we ended up in the small town of Beamsville and they ended up in big city of Toronto. A plus for both of us! Especially for the kids - as they both had a house full of new toys to play with.

Friday night was a night for relaxation and gaming. We had a gender war for Trivia Pursuit. The woman were kicking butt for most of the game, but fell behind in the very end, to lose to the guys who pulled up from behind in their maiden game together. Which, according to Trivia Pursuit, is something that horses in their maiden races never do (win that is).

Saturday we started off with a great breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes to energize us for a day spent indoors. Johanna and Simeon were babysat by my niece Erin and her friend for the day. The kids loved a day spent with their very own playmates.

Now to the matters we spoke about:
Our long term mission statements
Our short term vision
Spirituality
Sharing Resources

Everything we came up with is open for comment, and we just started the foundational conversations.

Some of the highlights include:
- plans for a garden this summer,
- welcoming someone into our house in May,
- creating a space for meditation
- beginning Wednesday evening worship times together (Lenten season a great time to start) - along with weekly reflections on the blog
- a discussion of what a common purse looks like and how we might move towards this as a community
- a discussion of financial priorities
- starting a car coop with our van with people around the neigbourhood, basically being more conscious and deliberate with our use of the vehicle (saving money... :-) )

This is obviously a short summary of day long conversations and we will hopefully be putting together minutes that will include mission statements that we were working on as a group as well as more details of the common purse and other items.

Love to hear any comments,

In Christ,

Angela

Lenten Reflection 6

A Better Resurrection
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.
My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perish'd thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.
Christina Rosetti

The Look


The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word,
No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene
Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord
Looked only, on the traitor. None record
What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen
Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call.
And Peter, from the height of blasphemy -
'I never knew this man'- did quail and fall
As knowing straight That God; and turned free
And went out speechless from the face of all
And filled the silence, weeping bitterly.

The meaning of the look

I think that look of Christ might seem to say -
'Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone
Which I at last must break my heart upon
For all God's charge to his high angels may
Guard my foot better ? Did I yesterday
Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun ?
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray ?
The cock crows coldly. - Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy final need is dreariest,
Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here;
My voice to God and angels shall attest,
Because I Know this man, let him be clear.'

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Lenten Reflection 4

He became the kind of man we do not want to be: ECCE HOMO! Behold the Man! is not a statement which arises from the confirmation of our humanity and is made on the basis of like is known by like; it is a confession of faith which recognizes God's humanity in the dehumanized Christ on the the cross...

God is not greater than he is in this humiliation. God is not more glorious than he is in this self-surrender. God is not more powerful than he is in this helplessness. God is not more divine than he is in this humanity. The center of everything that Christian theology says about God is discovered in this event.

J. Moltmann, Crucified God.

Lenten Reflection 3

HOLY SONNETS.

XIV.


Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

lenten reflection 2

Till Christ shall be fully formed in you
A reading from Augustine's explanation of the letter to the Galatians, 5th century
So the Apostle says, ‘Become as I am’ who though born a Jew, have now learnt by spiritual insight to treat all carnal matters with contempt; ‘for I also have become as you’, which is to say, I also am a man like you. After saying that, he very properly and becomingly added a reminder of his love for them, fearing no doubt that they might otherwise begin to suspect him of having turned against them. So he says, ‘Brethren, I beseech you, you did me no wrong’, as if he would prevent them form thinking he wanted to do them wrong.
He even calls them ‘my little children’, so that they would imitate him as they would a parent. ‘With whom I am again in travail’, he adds, ‘until Christ be formed in you!’

Now Christ is formed in a believer through faith implanted in his inmost soul. Such a one, gentle and lowly of heart, is summoned to the freedom of grace, and he does not boast of the merit of works which are of no value. But from the grace itself there is a beginning of merit, so that Christ who said ‘As you did it to one of the least of my brethren, you did it to me’ can call him the least bit of himself. Christ, then, is formed in him who accepts his form; and he receives the form of Christ who cleaves to Christ with spiritual love

The result is that through this imitating he becomes, in the measure permitted to him, the same as Christ whom he imitates. ‘He who says be abides in him’, says John, ‘ought to walk in the same way as he walked’.

But since human beings are conceived by their mothers in order to be formed and once they are formed are brought to birth through the pangs of labor, we can ask what is meant by the words, ‘with whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed in you!’ We can take ‘travail’ to mean the anxious care with which he was in labor so that they might be born in Christ; and now again he is in travail because of the danger he sees them in of being led astray. The anxiety of such concern about them, which leads him to say that he is in some way in travail can endure ‘to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ, so that they may no longer be carried about with every wind of doctrine’.

Hence, it is not in reference to the beginnings of faith by which they were born, but concerning the strengthening and perfecting of faith that he says, ‘with whom I am again in travail until Christ is formed in you’. Elsewhere he commends this sort of travail in other words when he says, ‘There is the daily pressure on me of anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall and I am not indignant?’

Ash Wednesday

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish, which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee and flee before Thy glance.
How art thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish that once was bright as morn!

Now from Thy cheeks has vanished their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished the splendor that was there.
Grim death, with cruel rigor, hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor, Thy strength in this sad strife.

My burden in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee, wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee; Redeemer, spurn me not!

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

My Shepherd, now receive me; my Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me, O source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me with words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me to heavenly joys above.

Here I will stand beside Thee, from Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me! When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish in death’s cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish, Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.

The joy can never be spoken, above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of Life, desiring Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring, I’d breathe my soul to Thee.

My Savior, be Thou near me when death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me, forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish, oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish by virtue of Thine own!

Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.

Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot

Ash-Wednesday
by T S Eliot

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

II
Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.

III
At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.

IV
Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

V
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people.

VI
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

TRACES

Today I poured through old email messages attempting to find an attachment of a paper I wrote. I wasn't quite expecting to find so many memories. An "acceptance" letter from Duke Religion Department with the addendum that we won't fund ya asshole, evites to parties, well-wishes upon the birth of Johanna, church business from my summer internships, old interlibrary loan reminder, and at the very beginning a note from Doug about our impending nuptial. I also found old discussions about Christian community: Doug's tortured letter to Naj and Anne, News of Mike and Heather's trip to Chicago, John's lobbying to have all the community kids named after him, and his excitment with Johanna and Jonathan, and most recently notes from Ben and Angela about when to expect the delivery truck. As a budding historian I don't know what sense I would make of my own records. The facts are there: marriage, birth of children, intimate friends. There is also a considerable academic history: the theology of disability, bio-medical ethics, law and the new testament, sin and sanity in Aquinas and 19th century America, and most recently Foucault and the tangles of what he calls biopolitics, and cultural history. But, I wonder if I could ever reconstruct a life from this material. A life that looks anything like the day-to-day of Durham or Toronto. Anyway, as I continue to think of myself as my own historian I will keep you posted.

happy birthday johanna

Johanna Nancy Hatlem turned three today. She enjoyed a green cake, green ice cream, and spagetti dinner. She got a three wheeler from Grammi Deb so watch out if you happen upon Toronto, CA sidewalks.

Sunday Night Prayer

Father God,

Thank you for full moons on the snow and for cats whose tails are too large for their bodies and for impish toddlers. Thank you for love over and above us and all around and for the way your wake can be felt in the chills of a cold winter night. Thank you for homes to return to and for friends to mend us. Forgive us for allowing ourselves to be sheltered from the cold of other's nights. Forgive us when we forget not only to care for our enemies but when we even fail to care for our friends--even the very gift friends whose love burns at the center of our hearts. Forgive us for not knowing when we do wrong. For not fighting apathy and the seductions of our own schedules. Mend our hearts that pentitence has broken so that we will not become proud in our confessions but merry in the grace that binds us to you and tears us from ourselves. Give us joy that sees in strangers the possibility of conversation with you and towards you and the thrill of experiencing the freedom of your law. Amen

The first three months

Our life together here in Parkdale is now about 3 months old. As we can see daily with Jacob (who is 2 mos. old) this is a vulnerable and exciting age. Jacob has learned to smile. We too are learning to negotiate one another--read each others expressions and nonverbal cues and the inflections in each others voices. Jacob is looking around soaking in the world. We too are soaking in this neighborhood and learning about it--learning slowly (much slower than Jacob) about this new world we are entering. We are experiencing little victories--a table that could ultimately seat 20, finding church communities, finding fresh veggies, keeping our spaces hospitable, sharing our vision with the local newspaper, and finding jobs for Doug and Ben. We are also experiencing setbacks. We wish there could be more of the original new year's crowd about. We feel weak with all our commitments to budding families, school, and new jobs to start creating rich networks or inviting the people that already have expressed interest to our table. We still might need sometime more of nuturing and comfort and peacefulness. However, we are here. Hoping that we have given birth to something really special.

From Ben and Angela

Hello, Ben here. Job is going fine at Mt Sinai, it feels good to be 15 seconds away from the ER in case anything goes horribly wrong. (I'm just kidding, nothing can go horribly wrong.)


Hey all - it's Angela here - I can't remember my password, so I'll probably sign out as Ben...

We began our visioning process at our community meeting in preparation for our retreat in mid-February. It was good to begin talking about things that have been on our hearts for a long time and realize that we are really doing this community thing.

Our lives continue in a daily routine or not so routine of child care, work, meeting people, baby yoga, dishes, dishes, and paper writing. Our lives swirl around each other during the day, we converge around dinner and then swirl off again - often touching during the day at various points sharing life's events. Oh and lets not forget our visits to St. Josephs hospital that have also become routine.

I am discovering the art of allowing caring for my child to be an accomplishment in and of itself - something I am allowed to check off my checklist of my oh so guilty calvinistic work ethic mind that pushes productivity driven by tangible daily deeds and activities. Yes, breastfeeding can be checked off, and that dirty diaper, and that rocking to sleep and that gazing into eachother's eyes for endless moments marveling in the beauty of my child....

Updates:

Doug just return from training with the MCC in Akron. He learned that he is an INTJ and that his wife is an INFP. :)
Johanna has been quite sick since our return, she has been taking antibiotics, might have pneumonia, however, she is def. getting better.
Jacob is so cute. His face is filling out and he has these "knock ya dead" big brown eyes.
Angela, is recovering from an infection.
Ben is in the third week at his new job as a researcher at Mt. Sinai Hospital.
Jodie is Ta-ing for a class in Church history and grading for a class in The Gospels.
She is keeping busy writing a paper on Weber and Foucault and taking care of Johanna.
We met for a community meeting last night and decided we miss you all.

What is up with you?

A Time To PRAY

I want to find a time to pray for Heather and Mike's baby. The little guy or gal is facing a heart surgery right after birth. We want to find a time in the day to coordinate prayer. I was thinking that each of us could make a pact to pray every dinner for our little babe.

Baby's Name

Jodie,
"His name is Emmanuel." ..... And "no" I am not Isaiah.

New Community Member

Naji and Anne had their third little boy today - guess that means I need to go buy another Walter book. The little community is certainly growing! We'll try to do our part beginning in 5 months (Brooke would prefer I say 17 here).

Untitled from BC

Well, here it is. I am officially a blogging member of the community, with full administrative rights. I'd like to dedicate this posting to John, for his encouragement and care throughout the years and for his supportive comments blogged on 30 December.

Toronto Star Article

An experiment in `new monasticism'
SHARING | Two young families pool their resources to live in the style of early Christians, writes Leslie Scrivener


Jan. 8, 2006. 01:00 AM


In the little Parkdale house they share, two young families sit down to dinner — a scene that would be completely ordinary were it not for the reasons they live together.

There's a comfortable feeling as the parents and children link hands and begin their meal with a prayer. Books on the side table reveal a bit about their interests: Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer's book on living in a community, and The Political Theology of Paul. That's St. Paul.

Though it doesn't look like it, these two married couples — with their babies, donated furniture and Holly the dog — are living what they call the "new monasticism."

It's a movement that started about a decade ago in the United States and has been slowly spreading there and now in Canada.

The two families, which are in their third month of communal living, share their beliefs in the same way they share the cooking, cleaning, child-care — and all the money they earn.

When Ben ElzingaCheng was offered a job as a research technician at Mount Sinai Hospital, after his arrival in Toronto in November from British Columbia, he and wife Angela sat down with the other couple to discuss whether he should take the job.

Angela, a community organizer had just given birth to their first child, Jacob. The other couple — Jodie Boyer Hatlem, who's working on her PhD at the University of Toronto, and street pastor Doug Johnson Hatlem have two children: Johanna, 2, and Simeon, 11 months.

How would Ben's working full-time affect their little community? In the end, they decided he should take the position.

Doug and Jodie, who are Americans, are pacifists deeply opposed to the war in Iraq.

Ben and Angela are Canadians who feel the same way.

These four monastics are all Christians who grew up in middle-class, evangelical families.

They reject the consumerism of North American culture and they are dedicated to living simply, offering hospitality to those in need, sharing what they earn and practising peace-making.

In a way, each of them has gone beyond the traditional Christianity in which they were raised.

"I go back to my faith community — my church — and tell them we're pacifists and it's almost like it's heretical," says Jodie.

Doug grew up in a fundamentalist Baptist congregation, but his life was changed when one of his university professors, a Mennonite, introduced him to the concept of pacifism.

"I couldn't shake the idea that you can't take the gospel seriously if you don't take seriously the pacifist spirit of early Christianity," he says.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They share their beliefs as they share the cooking, cleaning, child-care — and all the money they earn

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"With all the Bible-thumping I'd been raised on, I fought hard against it, but ultimately I changed."

Says Ben: "When I was growing up, my family's church focused on personal salvation. The most important thing was evangelism and reaching non-believers. And if you worked hard, God would reward you.

"But I wanted my faith to be a bit more real. I always felt a disconnect between what my faith commanded and how I was living my life, about actually putting faith into action.

"If I had a career and a house and family and went to church on Sunday, it wouldn't feel real."

Angela's family was committed to Christian education and she later worked organizing communities — one was to help families in Grand Rapids, Mich., have more influence in their children's education.

"I've been pushed beyond how I grew up," she says. "Here I can offer hospitality in ways I wouldn't do myself. I grew up middle-class, my education is high but I want to live differently."

They model their lives on the first Christian communities. Those early Christians, as described in The Acts of the Apostles, rejected private ownership and shared their possessions communally. Those who owned property sold it and gave the money to the apostles to be distributed to those in need.

According to Stanley Hauerwas, a theology professor at Duke University in Durham, N.C., new monasticism is exactly what Christianity needs now.

"We are watching the death of Christianity, particularly Protestantism," Hauerwas says. "It's become so deeply accommodating to the world, people are thinking: `Why you would bother with it?'"

How accommodating?

"The war. Christians don't have a problem with the war .... The other accommodation of the church is money. Christians think we need a lot of it. They want to be upper middle-class and believe in Jesus, too.

"They worry about how gays are destroying the family and don't get the fact that what's destroying the family is money — not gays."

A block from Duke University, in a poor black neighbourhood, is another new monastic community.

Ten people, blacks and whites, share meals and open their doors to neighbours in need. Recently released prisoners and people who have lost their apartments because they couldn't pay the rent have been invited to stay.

The Durham monastics have been inspired in part by the Catholic Worker Movement, which also has a community in Toronto that includes James Loney, one of the four Christian peacemakers who were taken hostage in Baghdad on Nov. 26.

Catholic Worker groups stress hospitality, voluntary poverty, prayer and community living.

Back in Parkdale, where life together is only a few months old, the two couples are still sorting out exactly how they will practise their new monasticism as they get to know their neighbourhood, find work and welcome a new baby into their midst.

"But we have prayed about this a lot," says Ben ElzingaCheng. "This is the right thing to do."

waiting for Elijah

Jessica spent New Year's here and a good time was had by all.

We really need to consider our next steps as a community. We have room for one more person. We wonder if we should fill it or whether we should save it for Elijah.
We are in a rushrushwaitwait sort of pattern right at the moment.

So, I have been trying to remind myself to do the good that is set out before me. However, I don't want that to devolve into some pitiful Calvinist ethic (sorry to all my Calvin friends) whereby we fulfill our calling by being a petty bureaucrat for the state (I think a street sweep might actually be a holy occupation.) I guess what I am left wondering is if I should be out there chasing down Jesus or if I ask hard enough he might just come knocking on my door. Behold, I stand....and I was everywhere naked, and hungry, sick and worn.... How have I got to this point where I can't see him. Ok. So, this is the sort of introspection I promised myself I wouldn't bother the blog with. However, I'm going to end with prayer and I hope you can pray with me.
Lord, help me to stop being such a shortsighted, caught up in my own worried world, fool. Please help me to stop being so suspicious of all the people you bring into my life: catergorizing them, judging them, dispensing with them... Allow me to come into the bold faith of one of your true disciples and please fill me with your love that (truly) moves the world and each of us to eternal life with you. Amen.



Any New Year's resolutions you would care to share?

Jessica is here!

The Car is dead. Merry Christmas!

So are little purple-ish civic is finished. We were heading up to Buckley on the 23rd and she broke down. Luckily we got to a gas station and weren't stranded. We ended up having to rent a car, load our present in it, and leave the car problem for the New Years (there may be a chapter II.) However, it looks like Ben, Angela, Jacob, Johanna, Simeon, Doug, and Jodie are now the proud owners of a big, blue van. We have a communitymobile (for better or for worse) so we better find some place to drive.

A cRAZY pEACE

I already indicated that this is not going to be the most contemplative Christmas. Kids are wonderful but they blast the stuffy notion that worship is all about being quiet, and thoughtful, and quietly introspective. There are moments: candles lit in the dark, little eyes mesmerized, Johanna's little voice singing "Away in a Manger..."

...more often Johanna is dragging Simeon (or our Dog Holly) around the living room trying to wrap him in swaddling clothes and demanding that I put a bedsheet on my head and play Jo'fef to her Mary.

I can't say that I mind. I haven't felt altogether introspective as of late anyhow. Those of you who know me closely might be able to discern that this is not an altogether bad thing. It has been good to be busy, to not get caught up in the host of things that buzz around my head to no end... to banish doubts and just do. So, I am glad for the jubilating, crazy peace around here..

catching up

so, jode, you can celebrate that i actually figured this thing out!!!
yes, though i walk through the silicon valley of techies, i remain in cyberspace darkness.
so, i'll write!!!!

i am just finishing an evening at Jeremiah's Promise (where i will be working full time in the new year--living there half of the week!) filled with gifts for three of our young ladies (ages 18-20), my three -workers (the founder and director, the resident manager, and our social worker) and one of our former girls and her baby (who greatly enjoys chewing on tissue paper). i received some lovely gifts, but they just aren't me. i really hate when that happens--you know a big gift certificate to a sushi restaraunt to a girl who doesn't eat sushi! so...the joy will be in blessing others with some of my gifts. i seem to find that i have more fun giving gifts that people really enjoy anyways. =)

you'll find out slightly more about my new job in your christmas letter--sorry john, your's hasn't gone out yet. the cards are going out in shifts! some, like most years, will be after the fact, but hey, i'm all about spreading out the joy for longer periods of time! ;)

and did someone say boggle!!! wow, i haven't had the joy of playing for quite some time. yes, we will indeed do so in times to come.

did any of you see the movie "the chronicles of narnia" yet??? it is AWESOME!!!

hmmm...i'm being very choppy in this vignette. alas. sorry. just to let you know that things haven't changed in my personality too much, let me mention a few tidbits from my quirky file. while in a rush, i spilled coffee on myself the other day. i also wonder if i have early altzheimer's (not to be overly joky b/c my grandmas does have it and it's tough!) b/c i never cease to amaze myself at the number of times i leave things behind. i'm worse than when i was a kid!!! i recently received my favorite ice cream from a friend--bubble gum!!! now why is it that this wonderful flavor is reserved for creameries and NOT the grocery store???

surprise of the year: angie needs to reform her diet. yes, heath, after all of your imploring of me to cut my sugar intake, i'm finally realizing the need to use this addictive substance sparingly. you see, western medicine can no longer help me in certain areas. my allergies remain a constant source of nagging and hopefully comic (and not only tragic) relief. however, there is nothing comedic about the headaches, sore throat, thousands of used kleenex, and sinus pressure. yowza!! so, my allergist, after having had 7 years of allergy shots as a kid and 1 1/2 years as an adult, said that my shots weren't working and he couldn't help me. apparently, i had exhausted his expertise, not to mention umpteen different vareties of allergy drugs on the market. soooo...i'm joining the ranks of the medically disenchanted seeking healing and health via vitamins, minerals, better diet, deep breathing, etc. ahh...yes. just a short time ago i was laughing at the thought of visualization. i tried it in one of my counseling clases and just felt absurd. well, the tables have turned and i'm open to so much more. no, i'm not even thinking about anything remotely related to eastern religion but i am open to prayer healing, fasting, yoga, eating whole garlic cloves (great antioxidant but disgusting tasting!!!!), and the like. this will be quite the journey. the new year shall prove the strength of my committment!

speaking of health, please be in prayer for my dad. a few weeks ago, he mentioned to my mom that he experienced something that felt as bad/or worse than a heart attack. of course, being the dutch farmer that he is, he did not wake my mom in the middle of the night when it occurred!!! so, like me recently, he had an endoscopy--sticking a scope down into one's stomach. he then had a biopsy to see if there was any cancer. his father died in his early 50's (same age as my dad) of throat cancer--which my dad has always said would be his fate. dad has not gone back to the dr. yet, so we don't know the status.

alas--nothing new in my love life--but i think a guy asked me on a date--a mention of coffee or dinner from someone at church on the prayer team, of which i'm co-leader. hmmmm....not crazy about the guy, but i'll try not to "kick him to the curb" too soon as i'm often accused of doing among the girls. ;) the closest thing to love in the romantic sense i've experienced lately is more of my roommates getting married. yasi will get married in early feb. so again i am roommate hunting. i have a revolving door of marriable ladies. but, alas God is ever faithful in providing new roommates, a job where i can build family-like relationships (in time), and a few solid guy friends who stand in the gap of showing me the care, love, and consideration of a the opposite gender that has taken me longer than the average female to discover.

i will close with a verse that i've committed to memory and have come to love from isaiah 30.

"repentance and rest are your salvation,
and quietness and trust are your strength."

may the Lord grant us an increasing measure of these.

with love bigger than distance, deeper than daily experiences, and more faithful than my blog entries,
ang

hoooooooooooooray!!!

Winter Solstice

Perhaps it is just the waning of the days... But, I am sad about the paired down New Year's Eve extravaganza, sad that I can't seem to get even an e-conversation going, frustrated with telephones, and jetplanes, wishing that I could see you all more, together, in one room, again, soon, pregnant, or not, flirting with soon to be wives, or knitting, or grading, or worrying, or joking, or making lasagna. Yet, I am lucky in that I CAN see Angela nursing, and worrying, and planning, and making buddah :) kole (sp). Glad that we can be here for this important new start and hoping that we are making a welcome here for the new parents big enough to make our community proud.

Christmas in Iowa

With Jodie's encouragement - this is my first real attempt at posting on this blog. It's 6:30 AM and I am once again wrestling with the sermon I have to give in just 3 hours. It's cold, windy, and snowy outside - another typical Iowan winter. Yet, there's a beauty about this season that I can't get over. The crunch of the snow under one's feet, the iceicles hanging from the trees, and simply the stillness that's in the air reminds me again and again of one of my favorite verses - "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10) ..... In the midst of the busyness of this season (and for some of you 'parenthood') I pray that each of you will be able to simply take time to know ... that He is God. .....
In His Everlasting Love,
John

New Year's Discussion

I am for one missing the big new year's plannnings. We are hoping for a community here that will spring up as big as our dreams at all of those meetings. Yet, I have been wishing to have the New Year's gang stalking us a bit more, making sure we are handling things all right, worried that we haven't forgotten you, ready to step in and give us advice....

I am even missing boggle. If I could be at the Cabin, or Anne and Naj's place with everyone I would even be a good sport about boggle. I would only tease John judiciously. I might even relent an play a game of MONOPOLY with him. Of course, I wouldn't play to win just play so that John wouldn't win (even if that meant joining in a co-op with the rest of the players.) I would enjoy getting another chance at Apples to Apples and I would let you all take turn babysitting our snotty nosed kids.

and he shall reign forever and ever

We still are asking for prayer for the CPTers. The deadline was extended from last Thursday to last Saturday and now no news (except perhaps an Iraqi man sent to help advocate for them may have gone missing as well.) I am not entirely sure if I titled this entry that out of irony or hope. This is only to say that it is frustrating to hear the proclamation "PEACE ON EARTH" and yet see no peace... (just the perpetual crosses borne as the Peaceful challenge power). At best, Peace on earth, is a prayer. One that in the present state of the church (especially in the states) only seems unsubversive somehow at Chistmastime. Yet, may all that worship America be flung off their thrones and out of their vain imagining and may Christ indeed reign forever and ever.

PJ Time

Here is a picture of Johanna and Simeon. One of Jacob is forthcoming.

Christmas

Its beginning to feel a lot more like Christmas around here. There is certainly nativity around here with Jacob suckling vigorously. Johanna can often be found "reading" her Christmas book on the couch and I must admit some pride of generativity when she says "there was no room for them in the inn" or "they were sore afraid." Finally, Doug is doing his best to be with those for whom there is not room. Life is slowing down for me, classes are done, and I am looking forward to some rest. Simeon is crying off his little head as I write....not wanting to take a nap.,
So, wailing, suckling, and the phrases of the Christmas story envelop us here.
We are attempting to carve out some Holy spots of contemplation... and yet... who knows if Christmas has ever been a time for contemplating ... getting forced around the country, counted, jostled, trying to make a birth in a stable work and then fleeing in the middle of night to Egypt. Doesn't sound too contemplative. So perhaps, it is ok that we work in our bits of awe, now and again, in the midst of bustling.

Kidnapped CPTers...

The group that has kidnapped the CPTers has announced that they will kill them by Thurday if the US doesn't release prisoners. Please Pray.

And they called their son

Angela and Ben will have to tell you.
Doug and I were just outside the room keeping watch over our little flock at night when WHOA this little guy took over for his Mom and let out a very lusty cry.... It was an amazing experience. No Angel heralding...just Angela's announcement: We have a whole baby.... yet a trenchant reminder that love and life are not exceptional states but a recurring truth.

He is a ruddy, black haired, brown eyed little guy.... with a good set of pipes.

Please keep Ang in your prayers as she recovers.

It's a ....

Tiebreaker!!!

Angela, Johanna and Jodie

Ben, Doug, Simeon

As of 4:20 this morning we have a new addition at 74 Dunn. Future community votes that divide along gender lines will no longer end in stalemate. It's a .....




......







......






.....





... BOY!



Born at home. No medication. Active labor around 7 1/2 hours.

No word yet on name, size, length, etc.

Updates to follow later this morning hopefully.

I most definitely win the gobs of money in the prediction pool.

Kidnapped Christian Peacemaker Team

One of the four Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT) members captured in Iraq is from our neighborhood here in Toronto. Jim Loney was leading the team that is currently being held. Jim co-founded and continues to live in the Catholic Worker houses that are clustered on the street right behind us and are owned by our landlord. We had not yet had a chance to meet Jim as he has been in Iraq, I believe, since we arrived. See CPT's statement on the situation which blames the U.S. and the U.K.'s illegal war for the kidnappings and affirms the team's conviction that 'violent force ... should not be used should they be kidnapped, held hostage, or caught in the middle of a conflict situation.'

Please pray for Jim, for Jim's fellow Catholic workers, for the other team members and their friends and families, and most especially that the situation would somehow help to reduce violence in Iraq and demonstrate a different Christian way of being in the world.

Newspaper Article/ Baby

We met with a reporter from the Toronto Star tonight who wanted to talk about our emerging community and the "New Monasticism." Please pray that the article will be a boon to the community and aid in its growth. Angela has been nesting. The baby could come anytime now. Yikes!

Thanksgiving

My parents. Glad they made it another year! Blake's wedding. The new community coming. The chance to study. Flannel sheets. Yellow yarn. Doug. My students especially my little Jesuit and my Irish lass. Doug's work. Johanna's funny comments. Today when I asked her what is a family she started to sing: We all live in a yellow submarine. From whence who knows. It is so amazing to be part of birth and new life especially when you see that new life begin to bring new things into the world: a new voice, new thoughts, new energy, new love.... Simeons toothy smile. Friends. Friends. That I am still somehow Christ's.

Things

Angela and baby are doing well. The babe is most certainly getting more and more in a birthing postition. It has been amazing to watch Angela's belly drop before our eyes. I am amazed by Ben and Angela. They are doing a good job of planning and resting. Angela looks like some sort of Mother goddess. She has been more help to us than we have been to her. It seems we (Doug and I) are destined to be more in others debt than vice-versa. Doug is doing a good job as street pastor. He is fearless, friendly, compassionate and tough-minded. Exceptional in his ability to be tender and firm. I think that good things are going to come to our community life out of his work. Ben is getting good leads on jobs in labs. Johanna and Simeon have been screwed up a little by our vacation and the new people in the house they are acting like real ratskallians at night. School is going well. I am enjoying teaching but hate passing out grades. I made a girl cry the other day. U of T's grading philosophy is not mine but alas..... Other than that I am working my way into a decent thesis proposal.

Pennies for the Homeless

[Doug approaching the southeast corner of Yonge and Bloor from the South]

:Pennies for the Homeless?!

D: What do you need, I'll get you something?

:A couple of dollars.

D: I'll get you a hamburger or coffee or something.

:But they might be closed, they closed at eight.

D: there's McDonalds or coffee shops that are always open right there.

:okay. let's see. they close at eight sometimes


[walking into Harvey's, one of a chain of fastfood burger joints]

D: what do you want to get?

:I'll have a hamburger with everything on it and a small coke


[D: gets in line while :sets up at a table nearby]
D [with the burgers and a pepsi, starting to sit]: oh, I'll get a straw for you.

:don't worry about it

D: so what's your name?

:Iranee

D: Ira
I [interrupting]: Iranee, it's the masculine form of Irene.

D: Iraneus is my favorite theologian, one of my favorite theologians.

I: ah, most people don't know it ...

D: so what brought you to Toronto [guessing from Montreal by the name and the accent]

I: The two race tracks. They're the best in the world.

D: ahhh

I: If someone tells you races are fixed they don't know anything. It's not fixed. It's all logical. The riders can look at the lineup and tell you if they are going to win or not ... [more on horseracing] ... So what do you do in Toronto?

D: I just got a new job. Pastor. Started last week.

I: Where?

D: It's with the Mennonite Central Committee. Street Pastor. They have me starting with Sanctuary. Right up the street here, you probably know them.

I: A good place. They do good work for the homeless. I do the races ... I just stay out doors for the winter. Like the fresh air.

D:Yeah

I [launching into a long, long lesson on picking winners]: ... There are four kinds of horses: Frontrunners, Closers, Man-of-War (they can do both), and followers ...

D: Yeah

I [more on the lesson]: ... At the track 90 percent of people lose, 9% break even, 1% win. It's not fixed though. You gotta be smart. Study hard.

D: So are you in the 9% or the 1%.

I: 1%

[I: pauses, thinks for a second]. I just hurt my shoulder, my hand, gotta borrow money from my friend. You know.

D: Yeah.

I: [launches into another soliliquoy, this time on the track's superiority] ... best in the world ...

D: Better than Del Mar, I'm from Southern California.

I: Oh yeah ... [more on the track, now on its relation to picking the horses]

D [having finished his hamburger, cleans his place and siezes on a break in the lesson]: Gotta go, told my wife I'd be home by 8:30 and I'm late already.

I: But you learned something didn't you?

D: Yeah, if I ever go to the track ... [mutters something about not having enough knowledge yet as he heads toward the trash can]

I: Could teach you everything I know in a month and a half.

D: I'll probably see you again since I'll be at Sanctuary.

[D: heads out the door and makes mental note: next time I'll sieze control of the conversation at the start. It'll be all about Iraneus' recapitulatory Christology and political demonology]

At 1:26 PM, John said...
I'm guessing a girl on December 8 at 7lbs 9 oz. ....By the way Jodie - how do I make a 'post' instead of just a 'comment' on this website? I want to be on the homepage too and not just 'hidden!' :-)
At 11:11 AM, Elizabeth H. said...
This post has been removed by the author.
At 11:13 AM, Anonymous said...
John, That guess isn't exactly original. I think that you are just copying me. Jodie
At 12:32 PM, Benjamin ElzingaCheng said...
I'm putting money on Dec 12th, boy, 6 lbs, 8 ounces.Ben

The Coming Child

OK. So I am guessing a girl, born on December 9th, 7lbs, 8 ounces.
Jodie

Angela, Ben and Baby Frisky arrive!

Angela and Ben have arrived! Angela is looking fit and beautiful. They are getting their room ready to have a homebirth! Our community house will be blessed by birth! Doug starts his job this week with the MCC. Angie is also on the verge of being offered a new position doing relational ministry with girls emerging from foster care. Heather, too, we have heard has gotten a job organizing volunteers for 10,000 villages. Would love to get fuller updates from all of these folks in the future. I am currently slogging through end of the year course work and am trying to find a place that fits at the U of Toronto.

Shelter from the Storm

Johanna and Simeon and I trailed along to sanctuary for our first worship service (the ministry Doug will intern with as a preparation for his work with the MCC.) I am really struck by how nice things are coming along for our community. Our home is inexpensive, yet capacious. Our location is close to the nerve cell of so much social justice work. Doug's job is with thoughtful, creative, and engaged folks. That can jam in a way to deeply please us Dylan fans. We are finding place and moorings with in a very large, intimidating city. There are also so many moments of delightful serendipity as Ben and Angela's friends and family back in Vancouver recommend ministries, churches,and people that we too are being drawn too. At times I wish for the big, common project feel. Especially as we paint and try and make this place habitable. Ah, a nice Saturday with everyone here in work clothes taking the vines off the walls, cleaning the basement and the background, fixing the downstairs bathroom.... and then a picnic to follow. Yet, I am content with the known faithfulness of friends, acts of correlation and the hope for bigger and better tomorrows.