The Oregonian just published this article a day or two ago that is all about the future of downtown Vancouver. As someone who loves downtown ‘couve and whose future is intimately connected to this area I find it very intriguing.
Loved this post from Jim Wallis’ blog. It is written by Shane Claiborne and it’s pretty powerful. You can read it here or I’ve cut and pasted it below.
Something sort of mystical and magical happened after a 19-year-old kid named Papito was killed on our block a few weeks ago. As our neighborhood ached and grieved and cried with his family, we began to create a memorial for Papito where he died – a familiar ritual in the inner city. Those who knew and loved him brought photos and flowers. Kids on our block brought stuffed animals or whatever they had and laid them on the sidewalk memorial. And everyone brought candles. But here’s where the magic happened. It was the next day that the east coast was to be hammered with one of the worst snowstorms since we’ve kept records. As the snow showered down, I thought the little candles, sheltered only beneath a little shanty of soggy cardboard, would not stand a chance in the blizzard. But on they burned. Hour after hour, even through the night they burned. And the warmth of the fire melted down the snow as it fell. Flake by flake melted from the warmth of the fire. The next morning I went out to find the candles still burning, on a little patch of wet sidewalk like an oasis of warmth glowing in the middle of 2 feet of snow encroaching on all sides.
The next week we held a prayer vigil at the local gun shop, praying for an end to violence … and specifically asking and praying that the owner of “The Shooter Shop” would agree to a voluntary “Code of Conduct” drafted by Mayors from all over the country who agree that these ten simple steps would prevent deaths like Papito’s. So on February 13, we walked in silence with friends and neighbors from the candle memorial where Papito died three blocks to The Shooter Shop down the street. And we carried candles. It was there that I remembered the candles gentle warmth as it faced the coldness of a winter storm.
As we gathered with dozens of other Christians from around Philadelphia to pray for peace, we were met by a counter-demonstration that had been organized by gun-rights groups. They shouted some of the meanest things I have ever heard. I didn’t mind them calling me a “scumbag”, and I even concede on the “you need a shower” comment … but then the insults shot like bullets – racial, economic, angry insults … some of them to kids from our block, some of them whispered just loud enough to hear, such as, “stupid immigrant.” As we started a sacred moment of silence to remember Papito and the other kids killed with illegal guns … the silence was pierced with insults and meanness. As we prayed the Lord’s Prayer it was interrupted with the singing of “God Bless America.” A deep theological cage match was happening in the heavens, it seems:
While I do not believe the folks we met reflect the character or views of most gun owners or even NRA members (heck, I’ve shot some squirrels for dinner back in Tennessee) … the ugly counter-protest was organized by folks who started off by saying things like this:
Be advised that Shooter’s Shop is located in a dicey neighborhood. You should have no problem in daylight, and I doubt the local neighborhood folks are going to mess with a bunch of NRA members, but carry your gun with you. Do not leave it unattended in a vehicle if you go where someone could break into your car and steal it!
–from the Web site, “Snowflakes in Hell” (which, incidentally, may flaw with my candle metaphor!)
So the fact that they are not from the neighborhood may explain some of the behavior we saw and their inability to lament the bloodshed we see on these streets from guns sold to straw buyers at gun shops like the Shooter Shop (not many folks are buying hunting rifles from a gun shop in Kensington … we don’t have many deer here).
There is no doubt that my grandmother was right when she used to say, “God doesn’t like ugly.” And the Scriptures speak clearly: We are not fighting against people but against principalities and powers – ugly, filthy, sick principalities and powers. When we look at Jesus’ cross we see what love looks like when it stares evil in the face. It is non-violent, it is forgiving, it is steady and courageous. It is this courageous love that exposes evil by making it so uncomfortable that it has to be dealt with. Colossians is correct when it says that as Jesus rose from the dead he made a spectacle of the cross. As he listened to insults, had people spit in his face, curse him, and kill him he knew full well that he was exposing the ugliness … and in the end, love wins over hatred.
When we came back to the house we got a chance to unpack things with some of the teenagers from the block who were at the vigil. They shared about how powerful it was to see us return meanness with kindness. We remembered how Martin Luther King said to those who were so mean to him: “To our most bitter opponents we say: ‘Throw us in jail and we will still love you. Bomb our houses and we will still love you. Beat us and leave us half dead, and we will still love you … but be ye assured that we will wear you down with our love.” As the early Christian martyrs said: “Grace dulls even the sharpest sword.”
We will continue to hold vigil and to pray for a conversion of heart from the gun shop owner. In fact, the steady witness is growing … more than 100 pastors and church leaders have drafted letters (like this one) to the gun shop owner urging him to seize this opportunity to lead with integrity and show irresponsible gun shop owners a better way. Please light your candle and send your letter to Mr. Haney. When he signs the Code of Conduct we will alert the press and have a huge celebration outside The Shooter Shop (I might even buy a new bb-gun from him).
This morning I woke up and saw the snow falling again, and the candles still burning (they’ve been burning for almost three weeks now) … they are still melting the snow. As I thought about the vigil last week, I had once thought we were sheep among wolves … but now I’m thinking we were just candles in the middle of a blizzard. And snow melts, but the light keeps glowing. We are to be the light, to be the salt … both of which can melt the toughest ice or the coldest heart.
Shane Claiborne is a founding partner of The Simple Way community, a radical faith community that lives among and serves the homeless in the Kensington neighborhood of Philadelphia. He is the co-author, with Chris Haw, of Jesus for President.
-Disclaimer- please don’t make this post into a political, theological, or theoretical argument. If you disagree with some of the stuff I suggest to my kid you can take it up somewhere else. The point of this post is my wonderfully inquisitive child!
I had some great moments today, and they were all quite thematic. This morning somehow we ended up talking about Mother Teresa. He wanted to know more about this woman who spent her life helping people. Who did she help? Why does nobody like those people? What did she do? Then he asked me to tell him about another person like that. So I stayed with the India theme and told him about Gandhi. By the end of it we had discussed Desmond Tutu, MLK, Nelson Mandela, and Roy and Patty Kunkle.* Through discussing these people he ended up asking questions about slavery, why people don’t like other people, skin color, and peaceful resistance. We talked a lot about loving everybody and about peace. It was a great conversation.
Tonight somehow I found myself singing and dancing in the kitchen with both kids. We were singing the kids church song “I’m in the Lord’s army”**. After singing it a couple of times I was internally a bit uncomfortable because I’m not really into the whole militant Christianity thing, so I decided to clarify for Jones what we were singing about. First we talked about the definition of infantry, cavalry, and artillery. Next we talked about the difference between the weapons that human armies use and the weapons that God gives us to fight with. At one point Jones says “Dad, we attack people with love…which means that we just love them a lot.” then I ask “but what if they’re mean to you? Isn’t it easier to hit them back?” and he says “No dad, I think I choose to love them anyway.” and then I throw down the kicker, “How about yesterday when mom made you angry?”
“I hit her”
“So it can be pretty hard sometimes huh?”
“Yes dad, but God wants us to make peace huh?”
“Yup. Even when it’s hard.”
We ended the night reading a book he has about Abraham Lincoln. The book talked about Lincoln’s fears about the nation being split, about losing the war, and about his passion to liberate all peoples. We talked some more about slavery…and then he went to bed.
Try to get the kid to do karate and he’ll quit after eight minutes. Talk to the kid about the struggle between good and evil, the struggle to wage a war of peace, and the challenge of loving your enemy and he’ll stick around all night! I love that kid.
* Roy and Patty spend lots of their time, energy, money, and vacation in Mexico. They work with the indigenous peoples and the local governments to build schools, play structures, homes, etc. They’re training indigenous workers, they’re now building childcare facilities, they’re making huge sacrifices and making a huge difference. I wanted Jones to realize that it’s not just far off people that give their lives fighting for hope, but even his best friend Zoi’s parents.
** The lyrics to this song are…
I may never march in the infantry
Ride in the cavalry
Shoot the artillery
I may never fly o’er the enemy
But I’m in the Lord’s army!
Yes Sir!
I’m in the Lord’s army!
Yes sir!
I’m in the Lord’s army!
Yes sir!
Consider this a tribute, a goodbye to Marcell’s Hemp and Latte House. I spent a significant amount of time in their house-turned coffee shop as it became my unofficial office. It was through Marcell’s that I met a whole cloud of men and women with amazing stories, who had an amazing impact on my life, and who live in and represent my downtown neighborhood. It filled a gap in my neighborhood where there is no other place of gathering. People came to this shop to be with their neighborhood.
The coffee was mediocre, the management was poor at times (sorry), it randomly opened and closed due to red tape (among other things!)…but it was a place where you could meet and talk to those whom you belonged to.
Sadly Marcell’s is gone due to a fire last week. I do not yet know, though I am fairly certain that it is gone forever. I grieve for the neighborhood because there’s no hub for us to gather at. I grieve for the relationships that I have lost because we no longer have a place to be together. I grieve my loss of an “office”. And I grieve for those who lost jobs.
Someone come and pour some money into that place and build us another gathering place. If you make it into a knitting shop I will fight you. If you make it into a minute mart I will fight you. If it ends up a house I will fight you. Give us a place to gather please.
peace.