Today is Ash Wednesday; the beginning of the Lenten season—that period of time where Christians commemorate the 40 days prior to Jesus’ death.  It is a season in which introspection, awareness, and the laying down of one’s own habits of thought and deed hang large upon participants.

Death—endings in general—is always something we step towards.  It is the journey of thousand choices.  And this is important.  At least it is to me.  I look back, just three years removed, and watch my former self step, one at a time, towards the end—of community, of faith, of my marriage, of life-long friendships, of a career.  I witness, with sobriety, how impacting the decisions leading up to those spaces were.  At the time I felt myself to be the victim of circumstances greater than my control.  Today I realize I was not only the victim, I was also their author.

This side of those realities I find myself largely healed.  I am happily remarried; my family has expanded—I now also have a young daughter in addition to my two sons.  I am also a part of a lovely faith community that, while different in many ways from the decade long project I helped create and perpetuate, is sustaining and life giving.  I am privileged to experience the renewal of many old relationships and the tender pregnant bud of new friendships.  And, perhaps most of all I have rediscovered the center of my being as faith, a vision of divine embrace, and God’s grace.

Yet, here on the evening of Ash Wednesday I acknowledge the endings that have come about in order for life to bloom.  Those steps, leading to a place of goodness and mercy, were painful ones—and I continue to grieve many of them.  I recognize that grief and joy are not sequential; one does not cause the other.  They are parallel processes.  Today’s happiness co-exists with yesterday’s sadnesses.  They are well acquainted.  This is as it should be.  And today helps me remember that.  This season, and today particularly, lets me recall that grief, endings, and ultimately death, walk along side of us unrelentingly as our constant companion.

For the next forty days I intend to hibernate; to pull the plug on my public processing, mostly in the form of social media.   I won’t be facebooking or tweeting or blogging.  It’s a way of turning my gaze and my voice inward.  For that I expect to feel refreshed at the end of this time.  But it is also a way to be reminded of the endings that exist within the paradox of my short 32 years.  Success and failure. Joy and Sorrow. Laughter and Tears.  Leading and following. Giving and taking.  And ultimately Life along side Death.

I’ll see you on the other side.

I contend that our selves are limitless in potential. We illicit new identities at any given moment. I am left wondering any time someone offers the phrase “be yourself” what in the world that actually means.

Instead, perhaps we ought consider being one’s ‘deliberate self.’ this means to ‘rise above’ the impulse to ‘become the slaves of our passions’ and instead to act with ‘courageous devotion’ to a moral cause–” a single composition of personhood.

Reblogged from BRITTIAN BULLOCK:

About 13 years ago I actively stepped away from traditional modes of Western Christianity.  For me this meant embracing community over individualism, flat-leadership over top-down hierarchy, experience and experiment over theory and theology, God’s original intent over and against a Fall-comes-first mentality, the Word incarnate instead of the Word as a bunch of words, and so on… In short, I became a part of the glorious “trail of Blood,” the footnotes of Church History.  What I saw, tasted, and …

Continuing in the vein of looking at community–several people have asked a bit of my experience with this. I posted this earlier last year and it details some of those lessons.

The heart outstrips the clumsy senses, and sees … an undistorted and more veritable world. All things are perceived in the light of charity, and hence under the aspect of beauty: for beauty is simply Reality seen with the eyes of love.

Evelyn Underhill

I can honestly say that within Western culture I know of no instrument so capable of group destruction, self-harm, or identity suicide.I also have never witnessed anything which houses such potential for personal awareness and ultimately transformation.

Oh I don’t mean community like many people seem to be satisfied with today. The label gets (mis)applied to countless endeavors that all smack of individualism and that bear little resemblance to authentic collectivism. Community is more than a potluck, or a game night, or a smattering of like minded friends coming together to chat about their samenesses. It is certainly more than a Facebook group, or regularly updated twitter account. At least community worth its salt is more than that. But what, then, is it?

Here I have to say that this kind of commentary is not really the objective of this post.  You’ve gotten me off topic already.  But, to satisfy your curiosity I’ll lay out several brief thoughts on what community might actually consist of.  Firstly, it is a sort of open-closedness, if that makes sense. It is a purposing to stand hand in hand with a variety of others, for a variety of reasons, and to say somehow–”These are MY people.” while not obscuring the fact that countless others, yet unknown, could equally fit such a description. In other words saying: “These are my people and there are more besides.”

The reason why none of those things listed above qualify for actual community is because none of them cut deeply enough. They each allow for a degree of self satisfaction, personal composure, and non-disclosure that is antithetical to truly existing as a communitarian.  This then becomes another element of true community–it is givenness.  Allow me to illustrate from a Christian reference.  Jesus mentions a protocol for resolving conflict in one of his teachings.  He says, “And if you know you’re brother is offended by you–go to him…”  In this thought there is a closeness that cannot be reduced to Skyping.  This kind of closeness is proximate and it is invested.  It means nearness to the point of walking across the street and knocking on the door. It is investment to the point of being able to have real, meaningful conversation that goes to the sub-text of what’s really going on.

Authentic community cuts deeply precisely because you have bared your chest and stepped into knife’s range; you are now capable of being wounded.

The final thing I would say in defining community is that it is always bigger than one person or special interest group.  True community is owned by every person within it.  The vision is collectively owned.  It really does not matter how that vision is generated–from outside or inside, I think it makes little difference (though practically I am dubious that any closed system is really capable of producing its own steps forward–I suspect it always comes from outside or above; can you ever push a car downhill from behind the steering wheel? no, you must get out and then exert the force)–but, it must be adhered to.  Each person in that union has to absorb such a vision into their being.  It must be a conscious, chosen, and discernible agreement to go forward.  When this occurs the community ceases to be a collection of individuals and begins to function from the whole.  It moves as one, functions as a totality, and operates independent of any unique part.

Now, having said all of that, having given a brief disclosure about authentic community (that it operates out of an inclusive/exclusive paradox, that it is proximate and dependent on givenness, and that it functions as a whole and never just as one persons wish-dream), I can then move on to surviving it.  I mean this somewhat tongue and cheek.  You’ll not survive it, not if it is working as it should.  You’re concepts, ideas, fancy novelties will be crushed; you will lose yourself in order to find yourself.  But the other thing here is this–because community is fluid and living, a positive and healthy group can become toxic overnight.  In that moment you will be damaged.  That is what you need recovery or surviving from.  Most people I have known who have experienced either pseudo community or community-gone wrong need to be nursed back to health.  The list below is then two fold–first, what to do to prevent that from happening to you, and second, what to do if you’ve walked away from a burning wreckage.  Without further a due,

Five Principles for Surviving Community: 

1. Awareness, Awareness, Awareness

The old story goes something like this: a man comes to a guru who is meditating, proceeding to ask him what he must do in order to acquire enlightenment.  The guru writes on a piece of paper: “Awareness.”  The man, looking at the word, asks for clarification–how can he achieve awareness?  The guru writes again the word, “Awareness.”

That’s the point and it is the procedure: awareness.  Community will gain you awareness and awareness will gain you community.  One leads to the other and leads into itself.  They are intimately intertwined.

Before you seek out community, know why.  Why are you drawn? Why have you chosen this?  Why have you been chosen by this?  What is calling to you here?  What do you hope out of this?  So you believe in community–who cares!  Show me who is doing the believing first!  Know thyself.  Too many want relationship and never know it is because they are needy and insecure.  When they achieve relationship they then proceed to unconsciously destroy it through control and excessive neediness.  They then wonder why it didn’t work for them.  The reason is, them.  Sadly these people will often fail to understand how they contributed to the collapse of their community.  They will then take all of those hidden motives and destructive tendencies into the next experience, without ever having addressed the root issues.  What is needed in both the seeking out of community and in the surviving is self-awareness.

2. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine….

Any group that says it begins tabla rasa, blank slate, spontaneously, as the ferment from what will come, without any pre-concept is deceiving you and/or itself.  Community defined by spontaneity or nonchalance will find itself dominated by unexamined beliefs and privileged positions; deep inequality.  I have seen this over and over where an eager minded leader or set of leaders wish to place the emphasis on “liberty” or natural formation within a group– “let the vision come as we go along. let the definitions naturally emerge–”  The reasons are noble. The motives are good.  Two things however: First, NON-VISION is a vision; this should be obvious.  We used to joke that the guy who speaks up and says “We don’t have a leader!” is always the leader.  Second, when you build on undiscussed or unexamined assumptions–the environment that is always created gives deference to the strong, the powerful, the privileged of thought or information, the assertive, or the sneaky.

Liberty is the enemy of equality; the two will not coexist well.

Instead of suggesting that there are no assumptions or a limited set, draw the lines very broad.  Set the boundaries widely.  Discuss the constructs present.  The community should know what it is about.  This creates safety for its members.  It also avoids gaminess.  Flexible forms and gentle boundaries allow for differentiation where members understand who they are in relationship to the group and to others.  If you are searching for community and come across one that suggests a great level of openness to identity shaping–RUN LIKE HELL!  (Hows that for helpful advice?)

3. Give Others the same grace you’ve given yourself

One of the things that happens in community is that our expectations of others builds and builds–meanwhile, often our expectation of ourselves shrinks.  We observe our own inadequacy. We see that we are faulted and foible-proned creatures.  We therefore forgive ourselves.  Most often this comes in the form of making excuses or justifications for our actions. This is a form of self protection.  However, it is also a highly developed way of extending grace to the person who most often matters the most, OURSELVES.  Here’s the rub. Within community–learn to take greater and greater consideration of others, and less and less consideration for yourself.  Stop being so damn sensitive to your needs–but start being ultra sensitive to others’.

Churches’ exit doors are filled with people who weep bitterly about failing to be fed.  I think most organizations can echo this.  People don’t feel they are being trained adequately or given enough of a platform or handled properly, etc…  Stop.  Just stop.

 You will never be fed enough, given enough support, provided with the needed outlets.  Why?  Because the group is bigger than you.

Not only that there are more people than you, but that it is a whole.  If it is truly community then what is so desperately needed is a reality check where your thing is seen as being in relationship to what you are giving, not only what you are getting.  That feedback loop is indispensable.  Live with it.

I hope this doesn’t sound like a “COWBOY UP!” kind of comment. I simply mean to say that if you’re ever going to make it in the brow beat of life with others you’re going to have to get a lot more sensitive to others, and much less sensitive to yourself.

4. Find Fulfillment, Focus, and Friendship outside of the community

This seems paradoxical doesn’t it?  Isn’t community for fulfillment (we were made for relationship with others), focus (vision always extends to a collective and never only to individuals) and friendship (why else would we feel a need for community if not for the loneliness that exists within)?  I would argue that all of those things are true and will be made true within the properly functioning collective.  However–they will never come about if that’s what you’re looking for or holding on to.  You will always be disappointed.  I’ve seen it too many times.  Put energy into your family–love them, draw nourishment from them.  Seek vision that is larger than what is being served at the group level–outside sources, external voices, and overarching themes that locate the community within a larger narrative.  And have your best friends be outside the community.  This isn’t insurance in case the group folds–this is about making sure you don’t exert the overwhelming pressure upon the group for it to become those things.  If you demand that every one in the community serve your need for friendship then you will become cliquish and exclusive.  There will be insiders and outsiders. And no one will be satisfied, least of which you.  Similarly–let your big vision include the community, but don’t let it be the community.  If it is you will suffocate the group and then when it dies so will your vision.  This is some of the most tangible, practical, experience based advice I can give.

5. Risk Again

Chances are that if you’ve lived through an attend able, attainable, visible, viable, locatable, identifiable, intentional community that matches somewhat of what I’ve described then you’ve been burned.  Or, perhaps you were the one who burned others.

The truth is that human relationship is a nourishing flame–it sustains and grows, but it will hurt those close enough to it to enjoy its riches.

Accept the risk as connected to the reward.  It is worth it.  The alternative, culturally, is shallowness, self-limitation, and poverty of spirit.  You can neither know yourself or know God outside of collaboration with others.  If that is true, and I believe it to be, then this is something you must attempt, over and over again.  Learn your lessons.  Identify what happened the last time.  Listen carefully to what it says about you, and you in relationship to others, and then apply those.

To be honest, I know something of losing things you care for.  I have squandered love that others have given me. I have taken for granted the web of connections that mattered more than the content of ideas I imagined I had. I have invested in shallow and self-serving efforts and let depth building ones fall to the way side.  I have also had things taken from me, been taken advantage of.  I have seen love from both sides.  I have hurt and been hurt.  I have started communities and have ended them.  I understand the fear that rises up in someone who has been to hell and back again.  I get it.  You can barely imagine being vulnerable again.  You can hardly think of opening yourself to another, or to others.  And perhaps you, as I, hear the voice that not only asks how you will be damaged, but also wonders candidly what kind of damage you’ll do.    I’m there too.

Here is where I begin to appeal to spirituality–as I believe God to be something of a circuit breaker.  Addictive cycles are shattered in the blink of an eye, as if they never existed; relational wounds that seemed endless in scope are healable; patterns of behavior are lifted in the light of the Profound Depth of Meaning which is God’s presence.  We see ourselves as we are, and experience the acceptance that comes in the compassionate face of God.  We then sense the inspirational surge that calls us to be more than we thought we could be.

In other words–risk comes down to putting one foot in front of the other, taking steps into the dance, often unnoticed, one after another, and then rising somehow–until at last we discover our feet no longer touching the ground.

Today, in a Europe more secular than it has been since the last days of pre-Christian Rome, the culprits are

an aggressive scientific atheism tone deaf to the music of faith;

a reductive materialism blind to the power of the human spirit;

global corporations uncontrollable by and sometimes more powerful than national governments;

forms of finance so complex as to surpass the understanding of bodies charged with their regulation;

a consumer-driven economy that is shriveling the imaginative horizons of our children;

and a fraying of all the social bonds, from family to community, that once brought comfort and a redemption of solitude, to be replaced by virtual networks mediated by smartphones, whose result is to leave us “alone together.”

Today there are over 500,000 persons with disability living in some form of out-of-home residential care in the United States (this number only includes the state funded living situations–and does not include privately funded residence or the homeless disabled population).  And approximately 40,000 of them are in facilities that serve more than 20 people—we call these institutions.  For the most part you hear the same story in these places.  Their inhabitants have been extracted from communities of origin, from their day to day lives, from their families; taken from their parents and most nurturing source of care—usually with the promise of better or more specialized attention.  And it’s obviously traumatic.  The sense of abandonment, of being herded away, of being conveniently displaced is unavoidable.

So the system tries to resolve the glaring injustice by routine visits back to “the real world.”  The segregation of society for persons experiencing disabilities gets solved with field trips—giving them a taste of what it’s like to be a part of what they were removed from.

Occasionally you can see a group of people with disabilities on an outing.  Every other Monday one of my friends, Shawn, gets to go bowling, or play basketball, or venture outside of his residential facility.  It is probably the thing he most looks forward to on his calendar. If you’ve ever watched this, you’ll recall the potential awkward moments that accompany these field trips.  The excitement is high, the residents are often difficult for the provider to manage, and interaction with the public is usually inevitable.  Thankfully, it’s mostly amiable.  Incidents are low.  Satisfaction is high.  And if it’s not…well, perhaps next week we’ll get a different sort of activity.

The goal is to get institutional occupants to see the outside world, to experience life “on the other side.”  But seeing what life is like, visiting the action as it is happening, isn’t enough. Getting access to the community isn’t the answer.  Being apart of the community, living life among friends and relatives and loved ones—that’s the hope, that’s the dream.

I expect a lot from our culture.  Any society based on the equality and opportunity of all, not merely the temporarily able bodied, should work to radically include and integrate with those living with profound barriers.  But I get it.  Convenience is king.  It’s easy to rest assured, when those challenges are out of sight, out of mind, and someone else’s area of speciality.

Making It Personal

Now, here’s what I don’t understand—Christianity, my tribe, a faith founded on God’s preferential love of the wounded, the broken, the hurting—to the extent where deity inhabits the form of a suffering savior in the person of Jesus—a faith, that proclaims God’s great love for all, not merely the popular, the able of body or mind, the overcomers, or the momentarily good enough—Christianity—is just as vacant in its inclusion as society at large.  Though the implications are far worse, because it means we have forgotten our first love, the Crucified God, the wounded lamb.

If your brand of Christianity is program heavy—then where are the programs for those who experience disability?  If you favor “the conversation” and dialog groups, theology pubs, and open forums, then where are your friends with challenges at these events?  If you are a Christian who is an activist, a social justice crusader, when did you last take the time to sit and give time and your presence to a person with profound delays, or was it merely the inspirational or the rational?   If you believe in working with your brothers and sister of the faith, being in vocation with them—then where are those with disability in your work group, when have you hired them, suggested them, or even thought them competent enough to keep up?

The conferences in today’s Christianity, both conservative and progressive, take on issues of mission and justice and reconciliation—but I have yet to see a speaker on the main stage (or break out sessions for that matter) addressing the largest concern of our age—disability (60% of people who are immediately homeless also live with a major disability, 65% of people diagnosed with clinical depression experience disabilities, etc… Disability is the center of the wheel of marginalization).

I don’t mean to accuse.  God knows there are so many things to care about, so many issues of the day, needs to mend and amend; it’s hard to keep up.  I only mean to say this: you cannot address social justice without addressing the systemic and accepted inequity for those who have disabilities.  You cannot speak of inhabiting communities and living in relationship to your neighbors, being faithful expressions of the local church, without speaking of the ones you don’t see, for they have been shoved aside.  You cannot talk about the wild movement of the spirit across the spectrum of spirituality and artistry without beginning to acknowledge God’s radically creative impulse housed in those vastly different than much of society, who are also currently excluded.

If culture has conveniently excluded, Christianity has equally neglected—but ours is the greater sin.  We worship a crucified and wounded God.  We say we stand for those without voice, and give hope to the hopeless.

Show me.  Better yet, show the hungry, the broken, the starved for relationship–our brothers and sisters who’s best memories are peep shows into the lives they have been excluded from.

I believe that we have no real access to who we really are except in God. Only when we rest in God can we find the safety, the spaciousness, and the scary freedom to be who we are, all that we are, more than we are, and less than we are. Only when we live and see through God can “everything belong.” All other systems exclude, expel, punish, and protect to find identity for their members in ideological perfection or some kind of “purity.” Apart from taking up so much useless time and energy, this effort keeps us from the one and only task of love and union.

People who have learned to live from their center in God know which boundaries or edges are worth maintaining and which can be surrendered, although it is this very struggle that often constitutes their deepest “dark nights.” Both maintaining and surrendering boundaries ironically requires an “obedience” (Romans 16:26) because it requires listening to a Voice beyond your own.

Richard Rohr

What an interesting phrase. It is one part humility and one part certainty. It is on one hand abject failure and forgiveness and on the other stretching towards some bit of perfectionism.

And I can’t help but wonder that we wish to divide the two in a person. We wish for humble and never certain or perfect and never having faltered. We arrange ourselves towards those ends too. Ambiguous or objective, rigid or repentant.

Yet I’m drawn to the connection of the two. And it speaks to a person who has experienced deep failure and at last may hold, loosely that which they consider right and true. Because they at last know the end of both error or rightness is the love of God.

A lover of God, one who has been loved by God…this is always the one filled with grace and truth. A walking contradiction, and Better for it.