At the Margins

Over the next few months Culpeper House will be losing some of the members of our community…  Josh and Sarah are returning to Florida to be with their families, Ryan is planning to move into an apartment with his brother, and Sarita will be leaving for Uganda.

Times of transition provide excellent opportunities to refocus.  Over the coming weeks we will be focusing on the vision that God has put on our hearts as a community and how to best structure ourselves moving forward.  This will help us better transition new people into Culpeper House as we move forward.

If you or someone you know is interested in exploring the possibility of being a part of Culpeper House, please e-mail us at info@culpeperhouse.org.

It’s an exciting time, but also a sad time as we will very much miss those who are leaving.

Another article about New Monasticism ran in the Boston Globe earlier this month, but I forgot to post it.

The Unexpected Monks

Ran across a wonderful article in the LA Times:

What chores would Jesus do?

It is well worth checking out!

Jan at Church for Starving Artists wrote yesterday about the need to hear one another’s stories in building authentic community.

Sharing our stories is so important. 

I’ve found it the best foundation to lay for any group whether a missions team, intentional Christian community, or sunday gathering.

It enables us to love one another so much better.  Suddenly I have a glimpse into why Susan does all those things that drive me nuts and it’s not so bad any more. I’m able to sit in silence less awkwardly becaue I now know why John never speaks. Knowing how Jim grew up affords me more grace when he snaps at me.

A practical suggestion, having done this quite a few times by this point, is to have someone who is willing to be particularly vulnerable go first and set the tone.  It’s also good to encourage everyone to have a turn, sharing only what (and if) they are comfortable, taking particular care to value however much or little is shared.  It can take people a really long time to share their story, so I’ve found, if it’s a small group, taking a weekend retreat with the primary purpose of hearing everyone’s story makes it actually less arduous and forms a great foundation for authentic Christian community.

I used to think that I truly enjoyed conflict.  While I was in primary and secondary school, I loved to debate and was quick to jump into a fray.  As I’ve grown older, I’ve abandoned debating (having the desire to win) and started discussing (having the desire to learn).  I’m quick to challenge prevailing wisdom and theology and to seek to get to the Truth.  For me, it’s a socratic excercise that is apart from my feelings and who I am.  It’s why I used to think I was not conflict averse.

The last several weeks though, I have come into the realization that I am completely and utterly conflict adverse if the conflict has to do with interpersonal relationships or who I am.  It’s why I don’t speed when I drive.  Avoid breaking rules.  Hate getting into trouble no matter how minor it is.  And choose to ignore conflict instead of resolving it.  Real conflict exhausts me.  I don’t want to hurt or be hurt, so I pretend it doesn’t exist. 

I’m happy to change what I think–in fact I love for people to show me where I am academically wrong as it means I can be correct tomorrow.  However, I am not excited about changing who I am. I avoid conflict when it means that I might actually have to change what I do–become less selfish, love on another person’s terms, do something I find boring or banal.  Changing one’s position theologically takes mere moments and comes at little cost.  Changing how one lives takes time, long, arduous time.  It’s costly and it hurts–the Refiner’s fire is always uncomfortable.  Conflict requires me to contemplate the fact that I am not who I desire to be, that I am broken, sinful, and imperfect.  However, it is the only route to growth and holiness.

We live in community so that we can grow and become more like Christ.  Growth often, if not always, requires conflict. It’s why we have a committment to not only resolve conflict, but to acknowledge it when it exists.  It’s the thing I find hardest in community.  I love being surrounded by people 24-7–serving them and sharing the gospel.  I am easy-going and love sharing hospitality and bearing joy.  I enjoy listening to other’s problems and binding up their wounds.  I am made for community and so much of it comes completely and utterly naturally for me–it seldom if ever feels like a sacrifice.  And what a blessing that is!  The thing is, it means that I can so often ignore the fact that I am broken, selfish, and sinful; that I need to grow, need to learn, need to sacrifice, and need to change.  That I, too, am in need of the Spirit’s transformation.

This morning I read a short blog post on Common Grounds entitled, “What does authentic Christian community look like?”

In it, Meghan Gouldin asks us to finish the sentence: “Authentic Christian community____________________.”

It’s what each of us living in community grapples with daily.  At least I hope we do.

Read her post and respond at

http://commongroundsonline.typepad.com/common_grounds_online/2007/07/meghan-gouldin-.html

The New Monastics

Download | Link

Artist: Speaking of Faith

Duration: Appx 58 min

Created: Thu, 10 May 2007

Category: Speech

Subject: Shane Claiborne

Interviewer: Krista Tippett

NPR’s show Speaking of Faith this week explores New Monasticism in an interview with Shane Claiborne.

It’s a question I am often asked. It’s also a question that makes me cringe. I mean, I know what they are asking, but I feel to respond with Grace Community Church or even Culpeper House is woefully inadequate.

I mean, as much as I love the people in each community and believe that they are in fact my Church, to describe either one simply as my Church denies a core reality of Church.

I mean, Church is not a destination or a club, it’s not something that is even geographical. It is much more organic than that. I believe that I am not only called to be a follower of Christ all the time, but to be the Church all the time. This simply is impossible if I define Church by an organization or building. Not to mention unhealthy. Christ spent much of His time in the world. We have created churches that are clubs, places that shelter us from the world rather than equipping us to love those of the world.

For me, Church is and happens whenever 2 or more followers of Christ gather for the purpose of seeking after Him (the above diagram is far from exhaustive). Sure, it’s something that happens on Sunday mornings, but it’s also something that happens many times a day in my community. We can be the Church when we are having dinner with friends, during late night conversations, during Bible Studies. I’m having Church when I spend time with the homeless downtown. I’m having Church when I spend time with His Gathering in Ft. Myers, Florida and when I’m eating breakfast with Stu. In fact, I’m having Church when I’m praying alone, as the Holy Spirit dwells in me.

I recently read a great book about being the Church, So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore by Jake Colsen. It’s available in print, but you can also download it online at http://www.jakecolsen.com/JakeStory.pdf. It’s not Shakespeare, but it was really interesting to me—it’s not social justice at all, but presents a view of the Church that is incredibly different and to which I’ve only recently begun to be exposed. It’s a very worthwhile read and, if you read it, I would love to hear what you think.

A new friend, Julie Foley, sent me an interview of Aaron Weiss of mewithoutYou that appeared in Busted Halo.

In it, Aaron provides a wonderful description of community:

BH: From what I’ve read about you, you’ve said that one of the turning points in your life is when you went to live in community with other people in Philadelphia.

AW: Yeah.

BH: How exactly does that work?

AW: Well, people who think that when Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself and love God—these are central teachings and central focuses of our life as Christians—not a belief in a doctrine of Christianity or an acceptance of a religious form but a life lived of love. And that’s going to play out as community. If you have a problem, and I love you, that’s my problem. If you have a joy, and I love you, that’s going to bring me joy. And we share it. We share everything. We share our struggles and our triumphs and our money and possessions. We share our faith and our hopes and our fears and struggle together and try to help other people around us who maybe don’t agree with us or have anything to offer us in return. Just living a life of service—that’s what I got out of the communal life that I tasted there. It’s just a simple life of love that I believe everyone is called to. It’s going to look different ways, but for me that was the realization that Jesus didn’t call me to a belief more abundant or a doctrine more precise. He called me to a life more abundant. He called me to a life where there’s fruit that you can taste and see and touch and smell and feel—tangible reality. “The kingdom come on Earth as it is in Heaven.” That was something where I’d read the words before, but it had never penetrated my heart before that the Gospel has social implications and an immediate relevance. That was tremendously liberating from this obsession with the purely spiritualized version of Christianity. When it talks about setting free the captives, that’s spiritual. When it talks about “blessed are the hungry and the poor,” that’s spiritual. Spiritually hungry and spiritually poor—that’s in there. But so is the tangible stuff. People need food and they need shelter and they need freedom, both economically and politically.

BH: Was it difficult, having grown up in this culture, to start
living that way?

AW: Ah…I wouldn’t say so, because it’s so bankrupt, the notion of just living for your own desires and pursuing your every whim and trying to ensure financial security. To store up money so that one day you can retire and have 15 years of relaxing until you die – has that worked for anybody? Has that given anybody eternal peace? Has that given anybody that sense of “I know why I’m here. I know the purpose of my life”? I look around and I see the failed American dream. People that are trying to claw their way to the top of the corporate ladder or some social group, and you realize that there’s no real contentment at the top. Whatever little ways that I’ve tried with the band—like, “Oh, we need to get on this label” —you end up wanting something else. Then you get on this radio station, and you want something else. You get in this magazine, and then you want something else. You get on this television station, and then what else? What else? What else? It’s never enough. Jesus calls us to less and less. He calls us to a simpler and humbler and more broken and emptied out lifestyle of service. To me, the moment that I realized that, it all made sense. It was perfectly clear. Everyone is called to that, and there’s room down there for everybody. But there’s only room at the top for one person. That would be a sad world, if our only purpose was to be the most successful or the world champion or the richest man alive.