Community on Pilgrimage: LA/Tijuana Trip Part 1

It's been a week since Kristin and I reentered our cold home in Indianapolis after our journeys in Los Angeles and Tijuana, Mexico. To give you a short background, our trip was a pilgrimage trip which I'd like to quickly differentiate from a mission trip. Parker Palmer gives a good insight into pilgrimage for us that I was privileged to ponder on our outbound flight to LA.

"... The ancient tradition of pilgrimage is a transformative journey to a sacred center full of hardships, darkness, and peril. In the tradition of pilgrimage, these hardships are not seen as accidental but as integral to the journey itself. Treacherous terrain, bad weather, taking a fall, getting lost - challenges of that sort, largely beyond our control, can strip the ego of the illusion that it is in charge and make space for true self to emerge. If that happens, the pilgrim has a better chance to find the sacred center he or she seeks. Disabused of our illusions by much travel and travail, we awaken one day to find that the sacred center is here and now - in every moment of the journey, everywhere in the world around us, and deep within our own hearts." Palmer, Let Your Life Speak, pp. 17-18.

I feel like I need a couple days to sit on this quote, don't you? It is a beautiful description of this sort of journey. In contrast to this, a mission trip is about a group who goes to a domestic or international place to complete a mission for them, typically work projects. I believe that mission trips can be beneficial if done right, but it's important to differentiate our trip because it wasn't about completing projects for others. While we helped several people we met with a few projects, the focus of our trip was to have eyes to see and ears to hear the people, places, and things we encountered, and in the midst of this the Sacred Center, which for us is the homeless savior, Jesus.

Remember the bad weather and getting lost portion of Palmer's description? Yeah, we experienced this directly after we collected our bags at LAX. No one in our twelve person group had navigated the city-unto-itself airport enough to find the city bus stop which is where we needed to catch a bus to downtown. After standing at the wrong bus stop for thirty plus minutes we got the gumption to ask around, only to be given the answers by a driver of the wrong bus who acted annoyed by our touristy ignorance. Another 30 minutes passed in waiting and taking the short trip on an airport shuttle to the correct bus stop. The group of benches and signs under a small shelter had enough covering to keep us from being soaked head-to-toe by el niño (Spanish for 'the niño!'), but not enough to keep us dry from the rain traveling sideways because of the fierce winds. Our bus pulled up at 1:55, only 51 minutes after it's scheduled departure of 1:04, and we were off to downtown LA.

Following a slight drying of our clothes on the bus, we embarked on a short walk which took us directly through what's known as Skid Row to Union Rescue Mission. Our leader, Larry, who would join us midweek for the Tijuana portion of the trip, had told us to ask for the volunteer director, that we would be serving meals, doing food preparation, and sleeping on the roof. The limited information we received for this as well as for our travel meant we had to figure stuff out and make decisions on our own as a group. It proved to be a good process for the twelve of us. And we miraculously did it with little tension and no conflict that was mentioned at least! Although much of Larry's style throughout our time as a group has been to purposefully not communicate plans until the last minute, this was the first time this happened that we were without him. In retrospect I'm quite proud of our group for the way we figured things out, relied on each other, and dealt with tension by good communication. It was a good reminder of why we pursue community with one another.

Community on pilgrimage, the title of this blog, is what I am describing here. What we recognized when the weather was wet and the way wasn't clear was that we have each other. What we've been told in these circumstances is that you have yourself and that is enough (and today yourself is not only you but whatever information-giving device you possess to show you how to find cover and where to go). I firmly believe that the way is too much to handle on our own. This is why in this particular moment Angela, Graham, Kristin, and I had homemade muffins to go around and temporarily fill the food lack until dinner. Shawn, Nick, and Jesse were incredibly good at making us laugh. Jeff and Brian pitched in to help me ensure we were going the right direction. Kari and Kayla were taking pictures of our wet group and smiling at the results. Then there was Tom, who was quiet and fatherly, waiting patiently for the late bus to arrive (while the kids impatiently went nuts). All uniquely ourselves but all in for the journey together, unwilling to go onward alone. Because of this we got a glimpse into the aforementioned Sacred Center that we'd run into several times in our travels.

Provision: An Oh Nine Reflection

"God will provide" has become a buzz phrase in the Christian culture. At times it has become a platitude for the person who wants to say something but not do anything for those suffering from financial or other woes. As I'm in the middle of looking through the rear view mirror of my/our life in 2009, God's provision keeps surfacing. The aforementioned phrase hasn't just been a buzz but appears to have been truth for us. Whether it was the provision of our family and friends to bring, feed, and house nearly 200 people in Indianapolis for our wedding festivities, a random 500 dollar check showing up in our door the day our rent was due and we didn't have enough during Kristin's unemployment, Kristin getting what she describes as her dream job at the right time, or the provision we've received since I took a step of faith away from my stable job to the unknown, it's hard to argue with the truth of the phrase. At the same time, I find myself reasoning away that it was by forces other than God at work by which we survived and thrived. In other words, I try to use logic to explain away the reality of God's provision. I'm not too proud of this, but I think it's important to genuinely bring this wrestling before those with whom I am in closest relationship. Let me unpack:

Logic #1 - First off, we have family and friends who care incredibly for our wellbeing and have known our needs in the previous year and responded accordingly with great generosity. They have the ability to do this because they are in the richest nation the world has ever seen and in the top 1% of wealth of the world's population. This in no way is to downplay their sacrificial generosity, but to speak to the reality of where we live and the monetary success existent despite the economic recession of 2009. In other words, I can tie the money given to us to people with whom we are in relationship and in most cases tell you how that money came to them (jobs, investments, etc.).

Logic #2 - Because of #1, I ask the question of why would God not be more concerned in his provision for his children around the world who are not surrounded by the wealth that we are? Couldn't the thousands of dollars be given instead to those who need it more than us? I mean, if these thousands of dollars weren't provided, we would have other options - moving in with friends or family, selling our many possessions, attempting to get more lucrative employment, food stamps, etc. These are other options that the majority of the world's population do not have. While I'm grateful we've been able to reside and eat in our warm or cool house depending on the season, I'm bothered that there are homeless or foodless who follow after the same God we do who appear not to be provided for as generously as we are.

Logic #3 - Because of #2, I wonder if I am falsely throwing around God's name for this provision because I want to raise myself up as a spiritually attuned person who is favored by God more than others.

I have to say it hurts to even ask these questions. I am exposing an ugly part of myself to you readers, some of whom have been the generous folks who felt led by the Spirit of God to give to us. But isn't it only by doubt and questions that we can come to a more genuine faith? Because I'm wrestling with the unbelief that God didn't provide this money, I think my belief will in turn be stronger that God DID provide. What I believe right now is that God did provide for us, miraculously as some of the stories revealed and also through generous people who were moved by His Spirit. But it just doesn't make sense sometimes because I feel so out of whack and not spiritual most days. I wish that God would use the energy that's put toward us to rescue His children from slavery and sex trafficking. I'm just an out-of-control, bumbling idiot who doesn't deserve God's provision or any sort of grace. I feel like a lazy son of a bitch who doesn't have a job and is living off of other people's gifts. Yet somehow through this doubt and wrestling, the Spirit is showing me that the life we're leading is the way of Jesus for us in this moment in time. That although I feel like I should just suck it up and get a job like everyone else, The Spirit is revealing this thread of provision in 2009 to remind me that where we are at is right and good. That despite my many shortcomings and failures to perform in the way I feel like I should, God's grace is real and pursuing me with fury.

For these reasons, I'm thankful to God for this immense grace that I want to deny for the logic above but am moved to receive instead. I'm grateful for our community, the hands and feet of Christ, who have believed in me, believed in Kristin, and believed in us enough to give of your time, energy, heart, and money to see that we continue on the path of life on which God has called us. And I'm thankful for 2009 and the Ebenezer it is now in my memory due to the incredible stories of heartache, celebration, freedom from bondage, and the belief that God will truly provide. To 2010 we forge ahead with this recognition, and because of it, risky courage to continue. And it's in this risky courage that we pour our lives out for those who I mentioned earlier, many who have no one fighting for them besides their Creator (who is quite the Advocate by the way). Please join us.

Remember! Ebenezers and Cairns

“Samuel took a single rock and set it upright between Mizpah and Shen. He named it “Ebenezer” (Rock of Help), saying, “This marks the place where God helped us.” 1 Samuel 7:12, The Message, by Eugene Peterson

Cairn |ke(ə)rn|

noun

1 a mound of rough stones built as a memorial or landmark, typically on a hilltop or skyline.

• a prehistoric burial mound made of stones.

Entry from New Oxford American Dictionary.

“Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come. And I hope by thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God. He to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood.”

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” Originally composed by Robert Robinson.

When Samuel raised the Ebenezer, he was remembering the Lord’s deliverance of the Israelites from the hand of the Philistines. “Thus far has the Lord helped us,” it is translated in the TNIV. Originating in the Gaelic tradition, a cairn is similar to the Ebenezer. It is built as a memorial of one who has passed, an event, or a landmark showing the path. A cairn also signifies a remembering like the Ebenezer, where one commemorates an accomplishment and offers thanks by way of the physical symbol. In my recent summit of the highest point in New York State, Mt. Marcy, cairns were placed to show the path up the snowy pass above the tree line. Eyes fixed on the cairns, we were led to take the most direct path up the icy rock face.

We find ourselves in the season of Advent, where we remember the events surrounding the birth of Jesus. All of the stories, prophecies, and symbols of the season have been Ebenezers or cairns for 2000 plus years. They commemorate the immaculate birth and person of Jesus. They also remember the hardship surrounding this event: the shame Joseph had to work through that his 14-year-old fiancée was pregnant; Herod’s genocide of all boys Jesus’ age, therefore prompting Jesus’ parents to flee to Egypt for protection; and a stable filled with animal droppings is not the most comfortable or sanitary place to give birth to a child! Yet, as we celebrate this season, we raise an Ebenezer to remember God’s overcoming of these trials through the miraculous birth and life of Jesus.

As Advent prompts us to remember these events, it also prompts us to remember the happenings of the previous year of our lives. What are your cairns or Ebenezers from 2009? How have you been shaped through the events, celebratory or painful, or both? When did you feel joyful and content and when did you feel angry and despairing? Do you look back on these various events and emotional seasons with gratitude or regret? Why? How was your relationship with Jesus impacted or changed by these moments? Do you feel like you made strives forward in that relationship, stayed in the same place, or fell backward?

We must take the time to answer these questions before we look ahead to the New Year. Answering these questions is placing a metaphorical cairn in our memory to remind us of the happenings of 2009. And maybe it would be beneficial for you to gather rocks from your yard and build a physical cairn and scratch 2009 into it. Whether or not you’ve come to a place of resolve with these things and their impact on your life, this cairn will remind you of the event’s significance in who you were, are, and are becoming. You can then go back to it when you face a similar moment in the future and be reminded of what happened in the past. Through this process of invoking the good and the ugly of this last year, I would hope you then can honestly sing the song mentioned earlier: “Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come. And I hope by thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God. He to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood.”

Advent Reflection #1

A little Advent reflection that happened upon me on this past Saturday:

Several minutes before 9 am on Saturday morning, I lumbered out of my car to the front step of the Porch's building. I did not want to be there as I had returned the night before from a tiring backpacking trip that ended in 18 hours of driving. But I knew I needed to be there for reasons I knew and didn't know. The occasion was a group from our sending church, Trinity, graciously offered to serve us as we prepare our building to be a place of refuge for us and our neighbors in Fountain Square. Today it would be a painting party that ended with an authentic Mexican lunch from our neighbors at Armandos. Because the door was locked and nobody there, I sat down on the front step of the building and immediately realized that with my full post-backpacking beard and double work flannels, I could easily be perceived as a man who found temporarily lodging on the front step. I chuckled as I thought of the perceptions of those I know and didn't know from Trinity driving up and seeing me on the step. And I also remembered that Jesus didn't have a home so I was in solidarity with him.

Once the laughter subsided, I had this sense that I have to admit is rare because of my busy mind and fast life - God, not in an audible voice, but in an obvious nudge of my spirit pointed me to open up my Bible and go to Isaiah 58. In my stubborn weariness, I sensed the Spirit pushing me to share this with the group later in the day. They all arrived and we laid out the painting plans as well as encouraged folks to take a break and walk prayerfully around the neighborhood.

As we finished what was a successful and helpful time of work, we gathered to reflect on the day, especially the times people had praying in the streets and throughout the building. There were some incredible words of encouragement, challenge, and prophecy spoke, specifically regarding how our people and place can and will be used for the good of God's Kingdom in Fountain Square. And then came the words from Isaiah 58, specifically 6-12:

⁶ "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?

⁷ Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

⁸ Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.

⁹ Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
"If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,

¹⁰ and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

¹¹ The LORD will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.

¹² Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.

Earlier in this passage Isaiah calls out the people of Israel whose spiritual practice of fasting had become one that leads to discord between themselves and oppression of others. Their call to be the light to the nations was compromised because of the darkness they had created and were creating by their actions. So, Isaiah above lays out the fast that pleases God and prompts Him to intervene for the good of His people.

While we weren't literally fasting during this time, this passage was a combination of admonishment and promise to those of us who had worked, walked, and prayed that morning. We were literally in the midst of rebuilding an ancient ruin, raising up the age-old foundations with our work. The paint being lathered on the walls made us repairers of broken walls, and we were restorers of streets with dwellings because of our prayerful and peaceful steps walked in the neighborhood. What I then realized was that we cannot be called these things truthfully unless our activities, our worship gatherings, our spiritual disciplines, and our pursuit of community are done in accord and alongside of the just and merciful way of Jesus: loosing the chains of injustice, untying the cords of the yoke, setting the oppressed free, sharing our food with the hungry, providing the poor wanderer with shelter, clothing the naked, and not turning away from our own flesh and blood.

This Advent, we have the chance to prepare the way of the Lord by our activities and actions. Yet I, and we as the Church, still buy into the Christmas where we light the advent candles, read the Scriptures of prophecy of Jesus, sing the carols, attend the Christmas Eve service, yet my/our actions do the exact opposite of what Jesus brought, brings, and is bringing. By our excessive gift-giving, decorating, and gorging of food among other things, we tighten the chains of injustice, tie the cords of the yoke, further imprison the oppressed, hoard our food and overeat, neglect the poor wanderer on our way to our gas heated homes, buy more clothes for ourselves that were made in sweatshops by the naked, turning away from others and focusing on ourselves. I'd like to believe there is another way besides this, because I've tasted it in the last couple years as I've attempted to divest from the unjust ways of Christmas. To be the "spring whose waters never fail" we must drink from the living water, Jesus, who this holiday remembers, expects, hopes for, and celebrates. And this is not done only with the words we read, we sing, or we speak at Christmastime. These words in themselves are hollow without actions. The most helpful website I've found for these actions is Advent Conspiracy: http://www.adventconspiracy.org/. Watch the video on the main page, browse the site, and ask the Spirit to lead you and your family/community to the further actions they encourage. And encourage and challenge friends, families, and strangers to do the same.

A Weekend's Irony

I found this last weekend ironic. Let me tell you why:

Friday and Saturday:
We attended a conference at Englewood Christian Church here in Indianapolis called "Through the Consuming Fire: Economic Faithfulness in an Age of Consumerism." The conference focused on how biblically we as the church are to respond to the over-consumption epidemic and gave some prophetic and practical tools as to how this can be lived. This season, more than ever in my life, the amount that we consume as North Americans has disturbed me immensely. This is probably because in the training school of which I am a part we've watched various films or short videos that reveal the monstrosity of the problem and its effects on us and the future generations to come. And then came this conference which further exposed me to the detriments of over-consumption but opened me up to the way people locally and globally are radically living against this strong force.

Saturday night:
After leaving the conference one discussion early and taking a much needed power nap, at 5:30 pm my church community of 30 strong gathered at our old store front property in the Fountain Square Neighborhood. At this building, formerly known as Tobacco 4 Less, there was caution tape around the area where our church's skilled laborers are installing bathrooms, framing up walls, and hanging drywall. We are taking a building that looks nothing like what you'd think of a traditional or contemporary church and making our best efforts to transform it into a place of refuge for us and our neighbors. This building was forgotten, yet because of the sweat and toil of many laborers it's being restored into a welcoming place to all walks of life. In the midst of the chaos of this building off the main street in Fountain Square, we focused on the slowness and peace that characterizes the advent season thanks to our friend Kelly Mitchell. She reminded us that Jesus' birth wasn't about fanfare but was a simple yet glorious happening. Our practice of remembering this event on the Christmas holiday in the U.S. has become twisted into disgusting consumerism, yet we have the opportunity to restore what is forgotten as Advent commences this coming weekend.

Sunday:
Still deeply thinking and conversing about consumerism with others and then BOOM! Kristin's parents are not feeling well and can't go to use their Colts season tickets for the Colts vs. Patriots Sunday night game, so they offer us the tickets to sit 22 rows up behind the Patriots bench on the 35 yard line. I don't know if any of you could have thought of a more ironic juxtaposition - going from the constant thoughts and conversations about curbing our personal and corporate consumption followed by personal attendance of a NFL game. And not just any game... according to people who care more about football than we do, claims were being made that this was the most important game of the NFL regular season. And it proved to be one of the most dramatic games ever in the fourth quarter, ending in a narrow Colts comeback victory that brought an incredible electricity to the stadium and the streets we walked returning to our car. Although I found myself intent on watching the game and the sideline antics of the Patriots players (especially Tom Brady), over-consumption was in the air. From the game's inception at 8:20 until the game's end close to 12 pm, people all around were endlessly eating and drinking stadium food and "pee beer" (I'll let you guess why I call it that). Included in the eating was Kristin and me splurging on a $3.50 soft pretzel! Throughout the game messages were telling us that we needed to buy this or do these things to enhance our life. And we were sitting in a one-year-old stadium funded mostly by taxpayer dollars, which reveals our absurd entertainment priorities as a culture.

Although the game was exciting and fun to be at live, I was disturbed that the things of over-consumption I've described in relation to the game have become norm in our culture. That the over-consumption of food, alcohol, and other consumer goods is now what defines us. And then my attention was brought back to the season we're entering into and why we celebrate it - Jesus was born to a 14 year old girl in a farm stable in no-man's land, a reality that is completely other than what I had just experienced.

May this juxtaposition be for us a reality we face this Advent, maybe not to the extreme I have. And at the same time let it be a reminder of the accessibility of Jesus if instead of fast we choose slow; if instead of more we rest in enough; and instead of being over-consumers we become consumed by what Jesus' birth represents (love, justice, peace, freedom, reconciliation, shalom, etc.)

And check back for more posts in this light over the next month.

Airplane Disturbances

Disturbance #1: There is a distinct culture on airplanes that disturbs me. It's as if our sense of entitlement is contained into a small space and you cannot escape it's foul aroma. Because you can't open a window and air out the stench, it sits with you and becomes annoyingly normal to the point where you begin thinking and speaking it. In this case as I flew to visit my parents, I found myself thinking the same sort of entitlement thoughts that my co-flyers were uttering. We had just landed at Washington D.C.'s Dulles Airport and headed towards our gate several minutes earlier than scheduled. Most of us, including me, were heading to another terminal and another gate to catch our connecting flight to our final destination. We pulled up to our gate only to find it occupied, which usually means we sit on the tarmac for 5-10 minutes until the departing flight pulls out of the gate. Instead, as we found out from our flight attendant, our gate was switched to a completely different terminal on the opposite side of the airport. A vocal and quite unified moan echoed throughout the plane. Internally I wrestled with the inconvenience of the situation due to my short time to get off of this flight and to my next one: "Why couldn't the pilot have communicated to the airport staff before we taxied to the occupied gate? It would have saved us so much time!" We slowly got to the next gate and after quickly exiting, boarding a shuttle to a different terminal, walking the length of that terminal to the gate for my connecting flight, I made it with only a few minutes to spare. Phewww, that was close.

As I boarded the next flight the absurdity of the prior situation entered my mind. We just traveled 600 miles in a little over an hour and we are complaining about an extra 10-15 minutes in the plane. I'm openly admitting that my consideration that this was inconvenient equals pathetic. I should have been more concerned with the nature of my fast-paced lifestyle that exploits the earth and treats anyone who interrupts or slows me down with disdain rather than respect and love. Or maybe I should have been considering how flying is a club that values the "haves" (those who can afford to fly) and excludes the "have-nots" unless a generous person purchases their ticket. My/our sense of entitlement from the "have" club demands efficiency and comfortability above all else. It's a slap in the face to the way of life that values loving God and loving others above all else. I was convicted of this and vowed that I would enter my next flight in a posture that attempted to value love over and above entitlement. This admonishment led me into...

Disturbance #2:
I was one of the last on the next plane to Raleigh that is barely half full. I noticed that there was only one man occupying the exit row of 10 seats in total, so I took a more spacious row to myself despite the fact that this wasn't my assigned seat. I didn't think twice about it because it was obvious that 9 more people were not going to board the flight and all sit in this area. I was right, and nobody sat in my row or any of the exit row for that matter. As we were about to leave the gate a man who appeared to be of African descent left his crowded row in the back of the plane to sit in the exit row across from me. The flight attendant quickly approached him to inform, "If you want to sit here you have to pay $40 so I would suggest moving back to your original seat." He responds, "Well, I don't want to pay $40 so I will move back." He packed his bag up quickly and moved back to his more crowded area.

This angered me. What the flight attendant failed to recognize was that I never paid the $40 to sit in more comfort, so I was committing the same offense as this man. I want to assume that she thought I belonged there and it was obvious that he didn't because he moved from his original seat. At the same time I thought about how he was black and I was white, he had to move to the less comfortable seat in the back while I remained in comfort towards the front. My heart of justice cried out at this moment but my mouth did not utter words of injustice to the flight attendant nor the man who faced this. I watched him move and her walk away and wrote this down: "I am asking, you, Jesus, right now what you would do or what you would say in this situation, while being treated like a have and watching another be treated as a have-not. Would you say something regarding the injustice of the situation? Would you fight for the man to remain seated there or quietly move yourself back to your assigned seat which was more crowded and strike up a conversation with those seated next to you? I have to say that I'm quite content only writing about it, and not, I'm not going to say something or move. I'm quite content in my indivudual row of comfort - and there was just an announcement that I am now required to stay in my seat with my seatbelt fastened, so I would be breaking the rules if I was to move to my assigned seat."

I'm disturbed by my reactions to two disturbing situations. Certainly they were not life or death, but my reactions reflected death more than they did life. What I am slowly learning is to have eyes to see and ears to hear like Jesus did and like Jesus does if I am to listen to the Spirit. It's not comfortable, but I'm beginning to recognize that the way of Jesus is quite uncomfortable and disturbing most of the time.

Pilgrims in Toronto Part 1 – To Be (Un)Known

One week ago today I returned from Toronto, Ontario that commenced a new beginning for me. For those of you with whom I haven’t talked in awhile, I’ve committed the next nine months to the “Kingdom Living Training School” through Common Ground Christian Church, a sister church to ours in Indy. This is a school purposed to nurture and hone the gifts that God has given us through dialogue, prayer, teaching, serving, retreating, and engaging in missionally-minded trips to Toronto, Ontario and Tijuana, Mexico among other local places. You can find out more by visiting the website at http://www.cground.org/Training_School_89e1e19be358e148.html/. KLTS also includes part-time work here in Indianapolis where we can use our gifts practically. Ultimately, I believe that this training will allow Jesus and others to impart a further understanding of who I am created to be, I will walk with others in that process, and because of this we will be released together to radically alter the spiritual landscape of the Church of Indianapolis. Hit me up with more questions about the school and about the direction my life is going.

So as for Toronto…After a long day’s drive we settled into our simple accommodations, only to later be unsettled by the reality of homelessness in what I believe is the largest city in Toronto. It’s not that any of us didn’t expect to have encounters with those without homes; in fact, we were anticipating these to be frequent. Allow me take you to the scene of our first encounter: There’s a quick passageway from Dundas Square, aka Toronto’s small version of NYC’s Times Square, to a quiet rectangle adjacent to the gorgeous church building of Trinity Church (forget the denomination but should we care?). The passageway is through the Eaton Centre, which is the shopping mall central of downtown Toronto. Although the beats of music from Dundas can be heard faintly, there is a calm and silence over this refuge. Our guide, Larry, begins to tell of Trinity and their mission, and my eyes wander for a moment to an advertisement on a building’s north wall of an overly made-up woman promising that if we purchase the product she is wearing that we will be as attractive as her. Chuckling inside at the absurdity of the ad and its juxtaposition to our current locale, I refocus my attention to the conversation.

Larry brings our attention to a small bulletin board with glass covering the front. On this board are numerous sheets of regular paper, the first a two- paragraph description from Trinity indicating that this is a memorial for all the homeless people who have passed away since the 1970s. The other sheets are filled with years, specific dates, and names of the specific homeless man or woman who passed away. Several people stayed and read the memorial while others of us scattered around to seek moments of solitude after a day full of conversation and noise. Adequate time passed for me to quiet my heart and mind before I entered into the memorial, which I approached with a somber curiosity. Two things jumped out and grabbed me – the first being the amount of John and Jane Doe’s that were listed indicating that some died without a name to the people who found them dead and no family or friends to know that they had died. The second was a divine nudge I had to seek somebody out who had passed on my birthday, September 26th. I started in 1984 when I was born and browsed until the year 2000 when I found someone who died on my birthday.

His name was James Haine. Here’s what I wrote about James and the John and Jane Doe’s after I left the memorial with grief and leaned myself against the concrete wall of the Eaton’s Centre’s north end:
“James Haine, you died on my 16th birthday. You died homeless while my friends, parents, and grandparents celebrated my further passage into adulthood. I was showered with gifts by many while you, probably unknown and disregarded my most, fell out of this life into another. What is it like to be unknown? As we walked the streets of Toronto today, I’m disturbed by this disparity between the known and the unknown. I am known, the members of this group are known by many and becoming known to the group while we pass person after person who are unknown by most. It is a fundamental longing for a human to be known. Not just a longing but a genuine need and a fundamental one at that. How did you, James, and your brothers and sisters without a roof over your heads, live knowing that you would die unknown?”

This question brought me much grief. Because I listened to this grief in Toronto, I was able to more genuinely enter into solidarity with the people for whom I believe Jesus had a special affection – the homeless, addicted, poor, prostitutes, disregarded, disenfranchised, and unknown. I was reminded by Larry and now that I reflect on my experience my memory is evoked of the posture Jesus took toward the unknown and disregarded in comparison to the religious. It’s painted for us clearly in John 8:1-11 – Jesus is teaching outside the temple and the Pharisees drag in an adulterous woman. They cite their laws that require them to stone this woman to death, yet Jesus challenges them, “If any of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” They all leave yet Jesus remains, comforting her in the reality that she is not condemned, but forgiven and given another chance. As they leave the scene, I imagine Jesus looking into her eyes with great compassion declaring, “Go now and leave your life of sin.” While the religious desire to end this woman’s life so they don’t have to live with her uncleanness, Jesus sees into who she is and exemplifies a new way of life that I like to think is about knowing – her knowing Jesus while being known by Jesus more intimately than her husband or the other men she gave herself to sexually. This knowing is what Jesus asks of us – for us to know him, to be known by him, and know others in that way as well. It is a fundamental need of humanity.