an addition to my last post…

Doug, upon reading my last post, told me about this expression known as “chancing your arm,” which means to take a risk in the hope of achieving something worthwhile. Soon after, he emailed me with the background of this expression, and I share that background with you here.

 

It’s often said that the origin lies in a famous incident during a feud between two prominent Irish families, the Ormonds and the Kildares, in 1492. At one point, Sir James Butler, the Earl of Ormond, took refuge with his followers in the chapter house of St Patrick’s cathedral in Dublin. After a while, Gerald Fitzgerald, the Earl of Kildare, came to realise that the feud was nonsense and tried to make peace. In order to prove that no villainy was intended and that his desire for reconciliation was genuine, he cut a hole in the door and thrust his arm through. In doing this, of course, he was placing himself at the mercy of those inside, who could easily have cut it off. However, his hand was grasped by Butler and his peace overtures were accepted.

 

reconciliation, part 2: a vulnerable hand

First, allow me to apologize for my misleading titles on these blog posts. I posted the last one while hanging out with my friends Dave and Kathryn and watching NFL, so I may have been a little (or a lot) distracted. This is part 2. The last post was part 1. The first one was just an introduction. I’m sure so many noticed this, and I didn’t want you to lose anymore sleep over it.

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to go with some Explorer Scouts (high school aged youth) and several adults from both the Scout program and the church on a midnight hike through the Mourne Mountains. We stopped at a cottage (where we would later grab a bit of sleep) to drop off our sleeping bags and pack some “lunches” that were really midnight snacks. We left for the trail around 9pm. The weather was tough, so we had to change course a couple times. I have never in my life experienced wind that heavy. It was also rainy and misty and quite cold (at least, according to the boy who’s been hanging out in Alabama the past five years). The mud that got all over my rain trousers and boots took hours to clean off the next day, and that’s a sign of a good hike.

We had made it as far as we could go and back down by shortly after 2am. We had some tea, a bit of sleep, and woke up early to have a hot breakfast before the drive back to Belfast.

The more I think about my work here with the Ballybeen housing estate, the church congregation, and reconciliation as a whole, I keep thinking back to the hike in Mournes. Maybe it’s because I haven’t yet caught up on my sleep, or maybe because the whole “life is a journey” cliche is itching to enter one of my posts, but that hike meant a lot to me and complimented much of what I’ve been feeling. So allow me to indulge in the cliche of using my hike as a journey metaphor.

I know that going on a hike such as this in the midst of my two days off seems silly to some, especially when I’ve had quite the cough the last couple weeks. But I wanted to go on the hike, not because I wanted to be out in the cold and damp and dark, but because I wanted to be with those people. I wanted to do something that was somewhat difficult with others, knowing that in even the smallest moments of challenge, we open up to one another. My conversations and experiences with these folks were worth making the cough worse and causing a hiccup in my sleep cycle.

I ask that you take a “wee” gander (That’s Northern Irish talk) at this clip. The scene is from the movie Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. For those of you who haven’t seen it, shame on you, and allow me to offer some background: The two characters in this clip, Harry and Hermoine, are on a journey to destroy several evil objects, one of which is the locket that Harry removes from Hermoine’s neck during the clip. The “dark magic” in it causes the person wearing it to be very irritable, to say the least. In addition, their good friend, Ron, left the journey in a fit of anger. They both have taken the argument with Ron and his leaving very hard. Both Harry and Hermoine have been very sad, lost (in several ways), and weary from a tough journey that seems to be leading nowhere. Without further ado, enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFe0OR-Vaww

Have you ever had one of those moments? Ever been in the midst of a journey that seems to tear you apart more than heal you? Yet, at some point in the traveling, another on the same or similar path takes your hand and leads to the dance floor?

The truth is, we’re all in this world together. We all live in the same dysfunctional, violent, and beautiful, magnificent world. We all are journeying on this road called life. No matter what context, what ethnicity, what nation, what religion, if any…we’re all inhabitants of the same Earth.

And we’re all on our own individual yet unified paths. As David Lamotte once said in the beautiful setting of Montreat, NC, “I used to think that music was a gift to unite us. However, I now realize that we are already united as human beings. Music is simply a medium that allows us to see it.”

John Lewis, State Representative and Civil Rights activist, said while speaking on his experiences in the Civil Rights Movement at Montreat, “We may have come over (to America) on separate ships, but we’re all in the same boat now.”

What of this unity? What does this have to do with how we live our lives as human beings?

A few weeks ago I had the privilege to attend a Taize worship service at a Catholic Church just outside of Belfast in Bangor. I went with Doug, Karl, and Kendra. Here’s a link to explain a bit about Taize, if you’re curious:

http://www.taize.fr/

Crowds of young people from all over the world pour into Taize, France every week in the hope to feel a spiritual presence (for the vast majority, from a Christian context) in the unity felt among other young people from all over the world. That’s what makes Taize so interesting. It uses ancient worship practices to build bridges and connect young people that all journey through and exist in the same broken and beautiful world.

There’s something spiritual about feeling connected to people, isn’t there? Don’t you enjoy playing the game, “Oh, you were just in Nashville? My sister-in-law’s dietitian lives there. Did you meet someone with the last name, Dudemeister?”  We often know that when we ask questions like this, the person to whom we’re talking won’t have met a Dudemeister. But we try anyway for the sake of conversation, but even more, for the hope of feeling that small high of being connected.

But how often do we take time, especially in the darkest twists and turns of the road, to invite one another, and accept invitations to, however brief, indulge in a moment of embrace and laughter?

Reconciliation is natural, organic, and pure. We, as humans, desire to be connected to one another, sharing our stories and experiences. Yes, there are aspects of our own experiences and contexts that divide us and cause us to see the world differently, but that also gives us the opportunity, when we approach one another with sensitivity, grace, and love, to listen to and learn from our sisters and brothers. Sure, the idea that we can set aside all of our passions, convictions, and disagreements and become a big mass of friends holding hands singing Kumbaya is unrealistic. But we can (and I love that I’m able to say this) learn from Harry, and when we find another struggling, reach out a hand, and bring them to the dance floor. Notice, too, that this moment in the movie clip wasn’t intended to be solution to the hardship being faced. It was simply a moment to remember that even when things seem so broken, so twisted, so confusing, so beyond repair, we still have the ability to laugh, to enjoy the simple presence of another, and the opportunity to set aside disagreements and struggles with each other and embrace our common ground.

Difficult journeys, whether they’re in a place coming out of violent conflict, in our own homes, across the globe, or simply trying to climb a mountain at midnight, are easier when we offer a hand to one another (and are also willing to take the hand offered), even if that hand is only for a brief moment of dancing and laughter. But that’s the catch to reconciliation on every level, isn’t it? Someone has to extend a vulnerable hand first.

adventures, through the lens of my camera

I’ve had these photos building up on my camera’s memory, and I’ve been applying pressure upon myself to come up with some profound way to use each of them. But this is unnecessary and, frankly, tires me out.  So here are some photos of everything that I’ve been getting into in Northern Ireland:

 

some of the mums and tots from the Sticky Fingers group.

YAVs meeting with Doug. "Where's the coffee?" is the theme for most of us on these Monday mornings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Karl's in the zone while he preps for some "pre-meeting" music.

Simon took my picture at the Northern Ireland v. Estonia match. I promise to soon get pictures with all these people I keep rambling about.

These were some of my tools for building drums for all 30 cub scouts for our "Keeping the Beat" rhythm piece during Scout Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Political posters in the Linen Library in Belfast's City Centre.

 

Before our Scout midnight hike in the Mourne Mountains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Several of us on the hike near the Mourne Wall.

 

Desi, the Scout leader, getting ready to cook some sausages before we head back down the mountain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My bed in the cottage where I found some great sleep (all three hours of it)!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Through the gap is where we hiked. The tops of the mountains are, of course, covered by the clouds.

 

The cottage where we met and prepared before the hike, where we briefly slept after the hike, and where we had our breakfast. It was built in 1843 as a school for all the primary aged kids of the farmers in the area.

I apologize for the blurriness of some of the photos. It was a bit on the cloudy and dark side, so to get a picture, I had to make the exposure last longer (or whatever cameras do when you turn the flash off).

As always, thanks for visiting my blog. Part 2 on reconciliation to come in the next few days and soon after that, a deeper look into The Troubles in Northern Ireland and the “coming out of conflict” in which this country finds itself now.

reconciliation, part 1: what is God about?

Doug opened the conversation Monday morning with a question: “What is God about in this world?”

Makes one think, doesn’t it?

God, as seen in the life of Jesus, is about a new way of life called the Kingdom of God. This is a way of being in the world, interacting with all of our sisters and brothers with love and grace, recognizing the gifts of the entirety of creation. Jesus does not portray God as being near as concerned about where we go after we die, as many Christians seem to be today. God is not about calling us to somewhere else, but is about calling us to join in God’s work here, now, on this earth. Sometimes, our humanity gets in the way of this work, of this cultivation of the Kingdom…

violence,

prejudice,

greed,

deceit,

war,

and so on and so on…

And that’s where reconciliation comes in.

Jesus is portrayed in the gospels as doing some pretty weird things. I’m sure that many of us have struggled with one or two of them before. I love talking to folks that will define themselves as unchurched, atheist, or agnostic. I enjoy talking with them because they will say so many interesting things about Jesus. If they haven’t ever been introduced to a church setting and learned about Jesus through a “churchy” framework, then they see him for the rebel and unorthodox (and quite odd) teacher that he was, full of love. Even those who were raised in fundamentalist churches and then, due to this upbringing, have become atheist or agnostic, or are perhaps searching (as we all should, from time to time), will say that they love Jesus, in spite of those judgmental hypocrites who talk about him the most (majority of the atheists I know fit into this experience, having been a religious studies/philosophy major at a public university in Alabama). Funny, isn’t it? I think some fellow named Ghandi had a similar experience.

Some of the stories that always bothered me about Jesus are starting to make sense now. For example, the story about Jesus saying, “I did not come to bring peace on Earth; I did not come bringing peace, but a sword.” (Matthew 10:34) always bothered me. “How could the Prince of Peace, the teacher of enemy love, the man who disarms Peter in the garden, say this?” I would often ask myself. It wasn’t until I had a conversation with a pastor and two former migrant workers from South America that this quote made sense to me. From the perspective of the South American gentlemen, Jesus was illustrating how he was not on Earth to support the current status quo. That is, that Jesus was not in favor of the current religious institutions that held to power and arrogance and were filled with corruption. Nor was he a big fan of the Roman Empire, a vast empire who’s well-being was supported by a rigid hierarchy and the labor of the lower classes. The Roman Empire was greed and power-driven, and had little to do with humility. The empire was quite cozy with the Jewish leaders in Jesus’s day and place. So, for these two men, from their context of extremely low wages and long hours of back-breaking work in an oppressive system, they liked seeing a Jesus that wasn’t a fan of oppressive systems. This was someone who could save, a God-on-earth that used love and a way of living that could cultivate a fairer economic and social system. This verse, in fact, came to inspire a movement and ideology known as Liberation Theology. It reminds me of a quote from Cynthia Rigby, a professor at Austin Theological Seminary, that has a lot to do with this question of, “What is God about in this world?” She says this: “God is on the side of the counter-movements that oppose injustice.”

Another difficult passage for me has been “The Cleansing of the Temple.” I have pictures of a drawing here that may help me illustrate my points.

The Temple is divided into sections. These sections are designed to separate different groups of people. The Holy of Holies is where the Ark of the Covenant was said to be.

That was in the room known as the Court of the Priest, so only priests were allowed to got that far.

Before that room was the Court of the Israelites, which, naturally, meant only grown male Israelites.

Before the Court of the Israelites was a Court only for Israelite women and children.

And the last area, the last room at the front of the Temple was the Court of the Gentiles, and anyone could be there.

The story of Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple can be paraphrased like this:

Jesus and his disciples are traveling into Jerusalem and they enter the Temple. In the front courtyard there is lively business, as many Jews have traveled here for Passover. Jesus sees how there are those making profits by selling animals used for sacrifice (and much of this escalating as some sellers are taking advantage of pilgrims who feel that a necessary part of their journey to the Temple is to buy animals for sacrifice). Obviously, this front area of the Temple has become less about Passover’s meaning and more about business, maximizing profits, and commercialism.

Jesus gets angry and “drives out” those doing business in what seems to be intense rage, as he shouts and overturns tables.

Again, this took place in the Court of the Gentiles. Now, obviously, this was one of those passages that was tough for me when it came to seeing Jesus as the Prince of Peace and Slaughtered Lamb. However, John‘s gospel account paints the most violent picture as it describes Jesus making a whip, and it still doesn’t make it explicit that Jesus hit anyone. I can understand “driving” people out without having to hit someone. What I’m saying is that I don’t believe he hurt anybody. Feel free to disagree, and understand that’s not the point of my use of this story. The point is what Jesus says. Ask yourself, what does he say when he yells at those who are trading? Mark has three important words in it, not found in the others, abut very important I believe. What are these three words in Mark? Can you guess/remember what these words are?

In the others, Jesus says:

“It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.” [Matthew 21: 13b]

In Mark, “for all nations” is added.

“Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” [Mark 11: 17b]

Many forget these three words found in Mark, yet they hold such significance.

And what is this significance?

Here’s a hint: In the gospel of Matthew, very dramatic descriptions are used to illustrate the intensity and implications of the crucifixion. The sky turns black, there’s an earthquake, and the curtain in the Temple is torn. This curtain was over the Holy of Holies.

To me, and I hope to many others, Matthew’s telling of the story in such a way shows that with this act, God is accessible to all people. Not that God wasn’t before, but Jesus, in his teachings, revealed that following him was not for one particular kind of person nor a specific ethnicity or tribe. Anyone can follow his dirty feet in a life of humility and sacrificial love.

The curtain, like the hierarchy of the institutionalized religion, could not contain nor did they have a monopoly on the Spirit and Creator of the universe. And it showed that the Empire Values that were so highly exalted by the power and social system of the Romans could not keep the values of grace, enemy love, and servanthood under their thumb through a crucifixion.

A professor of mine once said, “The crucifixion was like a camera flash going off in a pitch-black room. For a brief moment, humanity saw itself in its truest form: Hideous. Even in the best political and religious systems the world had ever known, we killed a perfect person because he was so full of radical love and forgiveness, so full of such goodness, that it threatened us.”

So what is God about in the world?

Friends, I believe that in Jesus’ life, in his teachings, and in the moment of his death we see a God that is full of love and grace that values each human being and all of creation.

In Christ, God was reconciling the world to God’s self – not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. [2 Corinthians 5:19]

God’s dream for this world has nothing to do with violence and destruction. God’s dream has to do with love and forgiveness. It has to do with the breaking down of the status quo’s, the walls that divide, and the systems that would seek to gain from oppressing the poor. God’s dream is for us to recognize our unity as all being together on this beautiful planet.

I love this portion from a series booklet for a Northern Ireland program written by Doug, my site coordinator and friend. The booklet is titled, “A Biblical Basis for Cross-Community Work.” Here, Doug is revealing the call for Christians to be active in peacemaking and reconciliation. I will close offering Doug’s words:

“Although the Bible is filled with stories of conflict and even warfare, its overwhelming testimony is that God is active in healing the brokenness which exists in individuals’ lives, families, communities and in relationships between different races and nations. Wherever God is seeking to create such wholeness and peace, Christians are called to proclaim and participate in God’s action.”

reconciliation: painting an introduction

Today’s music track is Fix You by Coldplay, performed by the cast of Glee. Yes, perhaps on the cliche side, but somewhat appropriate nonetheless, especially as I have heard that Glee’s version aired this past Tuesday.

I’ve been trying my hardest to understand how reconciliation is achieved and worked toward in a society “in the big picture of things.” Since I have begun at Dundonald Methodist and DFCI, I have seen the “zoomed in” picture, if you will, as if I am standing inches away from a large painting, only able to see portion of what the artist had intended to be seen…

So, the next three posts (seeing as how I don’t want to put too much in one post at a time), I hope to offer a look at what I am doing “in my little corner of the world,” while also looking at what I have learned of the reconciliation process for Belfast and Northern Ireland, and even further, for the world. I hope to engage words of many before us that have worked for peace and reconciliation and teachings of Jesus that illustrate his calling and the Spirit’s desire for all of creation to be part of a reconciling journey.

Here’s a bit about the part I’m currently playing in this process:

I have been working on Mondays and Thursdays with an after schools program for primary-aged children here in the estate, alongside other volunteers that are often parents of the kids we serve. For the record, it is through this program called PAKT (Parents And Kids Together) that I have recently received my new nickname while leading recreation from a little and very enthusiastic girl. The nickname is Paddy McGuinness. I have learned that Paddy is actually a real person from UK reality TV. Oh, reality television, thou art such an inspiration to so many (Yes, sarcasm). It does, however, make me smile and let me feel like they feel welcome to mess with me by having a nickname. I also have been interacting with a “mums and tots” group on Wednesday mornings called Sticky Fingers, which has truly stretched my comfort zone, being that I am the only male above the age of 3 in the building. The mothers/carers/grandmothers have been delightful, eager to chat with me and make sure that I’m settling in well. One day, I’ll learn how to properly interact with a baby other than staring at one in intimidation and fear. Also, I have been taking the youth group with a young lady and new friend named Kathryn (she and her husband have been wonderful) on Sunday nights, and I work with Scout groups on Wednesday evenings (High School aged boys) and Beavers on Thursday evenings (I guess they’re around 5 and 6 years old, gauging from their general size and attention capacities).  My role here is continuing to expand as I start working with new programs and connecting with new faces in Community Development and work in East Belfast and Ballybeen, specifically. It’s been a true blessing that David (the minister of DMC) and Sally (director of DFCI) have been so open to allowing me “the green light” to take on and begin to brainstorm ways that I can offer my experience and insight, while also being stretched and immersed in new situations and forms of outreach and ministry.

Just like that painting that I’m standing so close to, I feel such an urge to take a few steps back and behold the entire piece of art. So I asked Doug if he could take time during one of our Monday morning YAV meetings to discuss with us “The Big Picture of Reconciliation.” He was happy to do so, and that’s exactly what we did as a YAV group this past Monday.

After our discussion, I realized what a privilege it is to stand so close to the painting, to see the brush strokes with such clarity, imagining the care the artist took in shaping that one square-inch. At the end of the day, that’s what this kind of service and ministry is all about; zooming-in to get a closer look, sometimes getting so close your eyes begin to hurt…but it’s giving such attention to small, square inches like such that come together to make something that looks like this:

Le Promenade by Claude Monet