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About admin

In the process of starting a new grassroots movement in downtown Vancouver, Washington. In the process of fighting terminal cancer. In the process of learning to be a better neighbor, husband, father, Christ follower, and friend. As initiators of the Grassroots Conspiracy we hope to be a part of a movement of hope, imagination, and transformation in our developing downtown neighborhoods.

F&$%ing Ironic!

Alanis Morissette’s got nuthin’ on me. She wants to talk about irony? A traffic jam when you’re already late? Not so ironic unless you happen to be a city planner. Ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife? Maybe if you just cleaned out your kitchen and threw away all your knives. Meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his wife? Nope, not so ironic unless you happen to have just had your spouse cheat on you. Yeah, Alanis didn’t really get irony. But I think I’m starting to get it.

Oh the irony. Let me see if I can’t capture it a bit…

We’ve started a movement marked by the phrase “we’re inviting people to die to self in order to live for their neighbor” and now in a great ironical twist we are seeing the emergence of this movement in our neighborhood in the midst of literal death. Jess and I have lived our lives (at least the last five to six years) to this end, learning, growing, and pushing ourselves toward this way of life only to see (potentially) it happen without us.* We’ve attempted to see an experimental community that is willing to love in radical ways, willing to respond to the needs of those around them in sacrificial ways which demands first a posture of hospitality and listening, we’ve always accidentally been on the front edge of innovating and thinking through new ideas and realities…and now…ironically, we find ourselves once again guinea pigs to our own experiments. Ironically we’re not the ones being able to love others but are instead are being overwhelmed with love, with people responding in creative ways, and with people trying to figure out how in the hell you show hospitality to a family whose only commodity is their precious time. Oh the irony of it all! I could go on…the list gets quite long…but ironically I prefer shorter blogs.

This is just too effing ironic isn’t it?! I mean, come on! Alanis, you’ve got more skills than I, but you didn’t really get the whole irony thing. Let me take a stab…

And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think

It’s like getting cancer when you’ve got no family history

It’s starting a movement about metaphorical death then you end up dying

It’s the idea of inviting others to love your neighbor only to be loved yourself

Who would’ve thought…it figures

Like my previous blog post attempts to capture, what’s emerging in our neighborhood is amazing and beautiful (and I didn’t even write or share about what is happening amongst the amazing co-conspirators who are shaping the Grassroots Conspiracy movement!) But seriously…it is incredibly ironic…painfully ironic…humorously ironic…annoyingly ironic…oh the irony.

 

* Again, don’t get too caught up in the freedom in talking about death. I prefer to speak as if death is the reality (because medically it is) while keeping hope that Jesus will bring an alternative reality. Also while Jess will still be a part in whatever ways she wants or is able, it will nevermore be ‘us’ insomuch as we’ve been partners in most everything we do.

It’s Not About the Money

It’s not about the money–it’s about the story being told. As with everything since May of last year when I was diagnosed with a tumor in my spine it has always been about a fascinating and wild story that is unfolding from moment to moment.

Today we were overwhelmed by our neighbors again. Three Main Street staples (Vancouver Pizza Co., Compass Church, and Yogurt Time) graciously opened up their doors to gather people together and fund raise to help care for our family. I, in the meantime, hid in my home because I was not feeling good, because I was tired, and because my son was sick. Every Sunday we host the Arnada Community meal where anywhere from fifteen to forty people from the hood come over for lunch–so as the fundraiser was happening many of our community meal folk got their slice and just brought it on down. It was so good to be with them, to be with my people, and to have the freedom to do so in a less-than-healthy and functioning fashion. In the end, however, we couldn’t resist the opportunity to go down to Main street to say hello and to get a little froyo action…and, again, we were overwhelmed by the love and support of our neighbors! There’s no good words to say it but y’all are amazing.

Ok, back to what I was going to say…

Yes, we heard rumors that people gave generously and that lots of pizza and yogurt were purchased…but it’s not about the money! It can’t be. It’s not a good enough story for it to just be about that. The story has grown larger than that. Time and time again the medical bills have been paid. Somehow or another our regular bills and our medical bills get taken care of because we are a part of such a loving, compassionate, and generous community of people. So I can honestly say that I’m not worried about the money. Don’t get me wrong, the money is important and it is a great story and it is a part of the story and I should be using commas in this sentence. But my story the story that is unfolding through us in our neighborhood is larger than this! Let me see if I can explain it a bit…

The Grassroots Conspiracy movement is defined by experimentally living into a handful of rhythms that we think are transformational for the individual, the family, and the neighborhood. One of these rhythms can be summarized by saying that we try to engage within three circles of activity: inclusive community, worshipful life, and being a blessing.*

Blessing and Responsiveness

Being a blessing can be seen when we mow our neighbors yard, when we volunteer at the soup kitchen, when we scrub graffiti off the local shops walls, when we care for single moms, etc. But being a blessing is not actually about activity–it is all about responsiveness. It is about responding to those around you, which requires listening, which requires showing hospitality, which requires creating space in your life, which requires a posture of openness to others. We can fill our schedule with doing nice things, with volunteerism (which is a good thing), with activity. But this doesn’t mean that we’re truly being a blessing. Responsiveness is all about the other person whereas activity can often become about me. The opportunity to respond rarely happens when we want it to, it happens in the middle of life, in the middle of chaos. Activity happens on my own terms, within my planned schedule, and in a context that I’ve chosen. Responsiveness demands that we’re willing to stop what we’re doing to be present for someone or something else. Being responsive kind of sucks. It’s hard. It requires much.

It’s Happening

It’s my belief that we are seeing a movement of responsiveness develop in our downtown neighborhoods. It gets me excited more than you know. I think that what we witnessed today was a community of people who responded quickly, without much fan fare, without much warning, and without much pushiness to a felt need that they observed. It’s not about the money that was fund raised (though we are incredibly grateful in more ways that I can express!!), no, it’s about the developing story of responsiveness that is being told. We, and our neighbors, are learning to be a blessing to others. We are learning to respond to needs when they arise. That’s pretty frickin’ amazing, pretty frickin’ beautiful, and it makes me want to sob like a little baby. Those who follow the ways of Jesus refer to this as gospel living. Jesus referred to this kind of stuff as the kingdom of God breaking into the world. Some just say that we’re learning to be nice. Whatever verbiage you use, the idea is that these moments remind us of how we are intended to live, of who we are intended to be, of what life together is supposed to be like. We get glimpses of it in these kind of Sunday afternoon moments, but in general we live in anticipation of how things should, could, and will one day be!

I personally live in a painful tension. On one side I’m pissed that potentially I won’t be around to see this movement develop. This is what I’ve lived my life for and to think that it could emerge without me makes me incredibly jealous! I want to watch! I want to participate! I want to be a part! While on the other hand, however, I have an incredible sense of peace (and I even feel a bit bad) because while y’all are seeking to live into a reality that will never fully and completely be realized this side of eternity** I will be basking in it fully. I’ll be done waiting, I’ll be done living in anticipation, I’ll be living it up as God originally planned.***

So it’s not about the money–it’s about a new story that is being told. A story that is marked by a way of life that seeks to bless others as we live close enough with them to hear their needs and respond appropriately. It requires much and it might not last, but it’s moments like today where our imaginations no longer need to dream but where we are actually able to see and experience what life together can be like. That’s something to be excited about.

 

* I won’t ever try to pretend that most everything good is stolen from someone else! We’ve borrowed and adapted this from a book called Tangible Kingdom. Good stuff.

** This blog’s too long already to attempt to flesh out this idea further. The idea here is that the world is broken and messed up (hard to argue with that) but that at different moments we get glimpses of life as God intended for it to be: loving relationships, selfless sacrifice, choosing peace over violence, etc. Those things (and we could list off so many more) are not the norm but Christians believe that when God restores all things to his original purpose and intended beauty those things will become the norm. Until then we keep trying to “usher in” life as it one day will be while knowing that it won’t be a full reality until God does his ultimate restoration thing.

*** I could be way off here. I’m not going to be foolish enough to claim that I’m fully aware of what life after death is going to be like immediately. You may be more aware than I. But I do think that whatever happens post death for me it’s going to be some sort of equivalent to sipping mai tai’s by the beach with a body that doesn’t suck.

 

Be a Ben–Really Bad Metaphor (part 3)

Today has been a glorious day…kind of. My gnarly ear infection, while rendering me rather deaf, has not caused the same pain that it was causing for the previous week. But even beyond the pain reprieve I was also blessed to spend some time with my sister and my bro-in-law Ben.

Ok, if I were to be totally honest, Ben is forcing me to write a blog about him. His self-esteem is quite precarious and I fear that if I do not write about him he might crumple in such a way that may be detrimental to my nieces and nephew’s health. So for the sake of the family I’m choosing to write about him. Remember, it’s for the kids.

Though, this does remind me of an important lesson that we should probably be made aware of. For a period of time I tried to make a series of quality metaphors that sought to transform not only the way we live but virtually everything about how we understand the world.

So with that in mind, here is today’s–Ben inspired–important metaphor:

Ben himself is a metaphor. Yes he’s human–but aren’t we all? Yes, he’s a man–but aren’t we all? No, literally we are not ALL men, but illustratively we are because we all want what all men want: satisfaction. And in this satisfaction we strive to become better men. Better humans. Better Bens. If we are able, if we achieve such a noble goal so to become better Ben’s then we’ll achieve something even more extraordinary–we’ll achieve ultimate manhood. Not a manhood as Braveheart might invite us to define it, but manhood as Ben would have us define it. Doing dishes, respecting our neighbors, eating strawberries, folding napkins, and even (if we’re lucky) downing a beer or two with friends while frolicking in the snow wearing nothing but our childhood snowbibs adorned with rainbows and old cigarette burn marks. So live, be free, frolic. Be a man, be alive, be a Ben. But don’t destroy what we’ve all been working for: equality. Equality between all peoples regardless of race, sex, ethnicity, language, nationality, economic status, place of birth, or citizenship. Equality. That’s what it means to be a Ben. That’s why today has been so wonderful– Ben invites me to a way of life marked by equality, manliness, and-above all-satisfaction. So be satisfied and drink of the sweet nectar known as Ben.

VIDEO: Sifting at Exponential

Jess and I spent an amazing couple of days in Orlando, Florida at the annual Exponential Conference. To be perfectly honest, Jess and I don’t belong very well in many circles. We kind of fit in the church planting community (in other words we start new churches) but the manner in which we’re going about things does not lend itself to a complete match. We kind of fit in the non-profit neighborhood development world but the spiritual bent that we bring to it does not lend itself to a complete match. We’re a part of the Christian community but we don’t go to church. Jess fits the urban hippie community but the reality is that we’re recovering homeschoolers. We can’t be a part of the homeschooler community for oh so many reasons that I won’t go into here. We just don’t fit in any box very well and it can be down right frustrating. BUT…BUT…going to this conference every other year always brings blessing. It’s a good scene, filled with good people and good books (what more do I need?) This year, especially, the content was inspiring. Instead of talking about how to start new churches (which is a good thing to talk about) they instead focused on how to be the right kind of person who is able to start new churches. In other words, the focus was on the being more than on the doing. And I like that. It’s less about being a rockstar pastor and more about being Jesus-filed lover of people, a good husband, and a loving dad.

Well, within that vein they asked me to briefly share a word from my story to start off the conference. I asked my mom to record it (Oops! Bad idea to ask the woman who birthed you to record a video with a steady hand while her son talks about his death! Cruel cruel request)

I’m hesitant to post this video for a few reasons:

  • It reminds me of the 50lbs I’ve gained over the last 9 months
  • It annoys me to see my wife just sitting there as a gorgeous prop when I know she’s got tons to say…more to say than what came out of my mouth and probably more articulately.
  • It reminds me of the fact that when I got up there I completely forgot everything I wanted to say…and I hate that.
  • It reminds me that I actually got nervous…I rarely get nervous! I hate getting nervous!

Here’s why I am posting it:

At the end there are five thousand people raising their hands in solidarity with my family praying for my healing. The amazing thing is that each of those pairs of hands represents a different faith community from all over the United States. IF God does not choose to bring healing it ain’t gonna be because we didn’t bug the hell out of him! That’s for sure! It gives me great confidence that if I die I can rest assured that it was not without a fight–both on the spiritual level, the medical level, relationally, medically, metaphysically, emotionally…and whatever other -ally is available.

Thank you Exponential folk for letting me play this small part. Thank you for supporting my wife and I. Thank you for everything! I hope that whatever happened to bumble out of my mouth was both beneficial and generative as we all committed together to be honest about our sifting and how it is shaping both us, our families, our churches, and the faith communities that do not yet exist.

peace.

Glasses

$3.99. For $3.99 you too can look like a cool hipster church planter. They’ve done studies you know. Anyone. Literally anyone who puts on these glasses is instantly transformed into something wholly new–something wholly beautiful–something…well…something simply amazing.

Hipster?

Church planter?

Clark Kent?

Fred Armisten?

Trust me.

Feel free to borrow them. These glasses don’t belong to me. They’re too powerful to belong to just one person. No, these glasses belong to you, to me, to the community. They are we and we are us and we are all together…

(sorry for this post. Too much coffee this morning?)