Social Creativity: Zuckerburg Style

I've been wanting to see "The Social Network" ever since I first saw previews for it. I finally made it on Monday. I'm certainly glad I saw it - though the issues that have stuck with me were not what I would have predicted. Mark Zuckerburg's character is portrayed as something of a monster, which the reviews had all indicated. I'm going to dare to disagree. Zuckerburg, as has been proved in many ways, possesses above average intelligence. Finding a "normalized" niche for himself has clearly been an ongoing challenge. This was evident even in the brilliant opening scene with his girlfriend. What I find even more striking about Zuckerburg, is how blatantly his knack for creativity is rejected. Granted, I am certainly not condoning "Facemash" or any sort of medium which diminishes, females, or anyone else for that matter. Being called before the ethical council at Harvard was certainly an appropriate action. Yet, he clearly has a brilliant mind and was interested in creating something new.

As his idea for social networking evolved and expanded into Facebook during the course of the movie, I struggled to understand the law suits and arguments of his former best friend and the twins. Was it pure jealousy? Was it greed for personal success? Intellectual capital and creativity is not something that can be quantified. Granted, we do that all the time with the seeming products that come from such creativity and intellectual labor. Have we lost sight of the actual value of creativity for creation's sake?

This narrative from this movie has been running through my mind for the past four days. I have the privilege of working with young people in many different capacities. One of my most joyful tasks is to stimulate their imaginations and spark their creativity. Without railing on our educational systems, suffice it to say it's something I think we all need to work to restore to the daily lives of our young people. Revolutionary ideas are certainly not confined to Ivory towers. I don't have a solution for the casualties of Zuckerburg's particular situation, which has since resolved itself. It does make me wonder what our society might look like if we valued collaboration and creativity more than the bottom line.

Welcome Home!

Zebras assault the mind

with a blinding frenzy of direction.

Giraffes tower

high above the soul.

Gazelles trample the land

bounding toward home.

Elephants graze discretely

hiding along the horizon

Hyena circle their target

slyly playing their game.

Massai pepper the landscape

bursting with color and joy!

"You are very welcome here,"

your new home.

Peter

Beth & Peter at Ubuntu Day

Tonight over dinner, Jeremiah told us Peter's story. Peter is in the verbal Malika kids class at CTC, though he doesn't have a disability. He was a street boy who frequented CTC. Jeremiah fed him a few times and enquired after his story. He traveled with his mom and a younger sibling to visit family in Maai Mahiu. Somewhere along the way, his mom abandoned him. It appears she also suffered from a mental illness. His grandmother could not take him in as she is struggling too. CTC accepted him. He now lives with his teacher, Jane, but it is only a temporary arrangement.

Peter remembered all of our names on the first day. He also knew exactly who we were when we returned two days later. He is incredibly bright, but extremely delayed. At 10, he presents as 6 or 7 years old. We have begun a serious conversation with Jeremiah about a possible new initiative for street children. It would be in the interest of the community, future and present, to have a healthy, stable home for these children. All of the orphanages are currently full and/or overcrowded. They are only accepting children aged 5-10. So there are a large majority of children who are under-served as it is. Please keep Peter and all the street children of Maai Mahiu in your prayers.

I would take him if I could. He has captured my heart. Sweet, sweet peter.

Peter & one of his friends sporting our sunglasses.

The Beautiful Game

July 24, 2010

Ubuntu is an African concept that means, "I am because we are." Today was an embodiment of Ubuntu.

I will never forget today. it began by witnessing the slaughter of four goats. I cannot believe how easily the fur pulls away from the skin. The Masaii donated the goats for the Ubuntu celebration. The tribesman who oversaw the slaughter was an artist - plain and simple.

As Ken, Charles, Sam & I walked back toward CTC on the main road through town, we could see that a respectable crowd had gathered. As we drew nearer, my heart began to pound. There were Masaii and Turkana, children in every imaginable school uniform, old & young, rich & poor. They were migrating from tree to tree along the main road through town. Each tree was being planted by a representative of a respective group. As the dirt was shoveled, the group in focus led the entire community in song. The pavement shook under the rhythm - two thousand feet from the thousand souls gathered. After each tree was secured, the community erupted with cheers, applause, and tribal praise sounds. It was as if the significance of those plants was already worth celebrating for future generations. Truckers stopped along their side of the road. Shop-owners suspended businesses. All were gathered to make a joyful noise. In the midst of great diversity was a deep sense of eternal unity. In a community where violence recently ruined lives, the bonds of unity were strengthened deeply today. It was a glimpse of the kingdom of God.

Masaii children performing a traditional dance.

The day continued with hours upon hours of presentations - skits, songs, dances, and tribal traditions - from all of the assembly gathered. It was the most marvelous display of color, movement, and song I have ever witnessed. The celebration was soaked in healthy pride.

The festivities ended with a soccer tournament. Erase whatever images you have of soccer from your Western experience. There was no grass, no lines on the field, no cones, and the goals were not regulation size. It was a plain of dust, raw talent, and the jerseys and new soccer balls we had carried in our suitcases from Austin. The CTC team received the jerseys earlier in the afternoon and erupted into a chorus of "Ole! Ole! Ole!" ala World Cup. They had clearly been given a jolt from the new uniforms as they won the first round of the tournament.

As the sun set, CTC went on to face the team from the IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) Camp in the championship game. We ended regulation time and entered into penalty shots. You must realize that cheering section of hundreds had now lined the perimeter of the goal. Following each shot, the victorious team (shooter or goalie) fled to congratulate the player. After the first round of five penalty shots each, the game was still tied 0-0. As we entered the second round of penalty shots, CTC captured the tournament 2-1. It was pure mayhem. The team and fans took off running, and rounded the perimeter of the field.

Finally, they cruised back to the feet of Jeremiah. Each of the young men wearing a jersey hit their knees. The fans were still pressed in around them - young and old admiring their new heros. I assumed kneeling in prayer was standard post-game ritual for this team. I later found out the team was sure that the jerseys were blessed. They wanted Pastor Jeremiah to offer a prayer giving thanks for their success and their new blessed uniforms. I'm certain it was those young men who blessed our lives today.

God is good,

All the time.

All the time,

God is good.

Wisdom

July 23, 2010

We spent the afternoon at St. Paul's University. We had the privilege of sitting down with Esther Mambo, Vice Chancellor and Professor. The following are excerpts, as best I was able to recall them later that night, from our conversation with her.

Q: What are the struggles you have personally faced as an educated woman in your culture?

Esther: Young

"Being single, which is a calling."

Female

Educated

"I am too tall for the box they would like to put me in."

"Each of these things has become a blessing because I am doing ministry in the context God called me to."

"I spoke at a conference of 800-900 Mums in Western Kenya - representing six Dioceses. The Bishops from each Diocese decided to come and they were prominently displayed on the dais. All of these women were running around to take care of them because that's the way Bishops are treated here. Each of them got up to speak and said something about the end of the Anglican Church in the US. They all had something bad to say But I found that interesting, because the first chance they get, they will travel to the West. SO anyways, I am the last speaker an the whole time I am wondering what I am going to say because this is supposed to be a conference about women in the church. So I get up and begin by saying how proud I am to be a part of the Anglican Church because we have a woman primate. First women deacons, then, priests, bishops, and now a Primate. The whole room applauded. I knew I was in trouble then! I asked the women to enter into a conversation with me. I wanted to talk with them about what issues they had with the church. There were microphones spread around the room and I asked some people to record the answers with markers on chart paper. So women started sharing, "wife-beating." "Polygamy." And they went on. After all the Bishops had shared about the evil West, not one woman who spoke up shared their concerns. I want you to know that just because the people in power believe something, that does not mean they have listened to their people.

One courageous woman articulated a question directly to the bishops, "I want to know why it is okay for priests and bishops to spend money we work so hard to earn on prostitution and extra wives." The room was still. I told the bishops, "She asked you, not me." Each bishop down the line did not make a single comment until the very last one on the stage. He finally responded, "I don't know." At least he had the decency to say something. He was the only one who returned to the subsequent sessions.

Q: What gives you inner strength?

Esther: My grandmother, who raised me to believe I can be exactly who I am. Knowing that I am created in the image and likeness of God as a child of God.

Q: What gives you your drive?

Esther: Knowing that I might transform just a few lives.

There were many things about our conversation with Esther that will stick with me. However, I was most struck by a challenge that she articulated throughout her personal and communal narrative. As Christians and as Africans, how can we be defined by membership in the Body of Christ before our tribe, clan or nationality?

Sho-Sho Shambas

July 22, 2010

Today was another beautiful day - though the coolest so far in Maai Mahiu. We spent the majority of the day working in the Shamba (garden) with the Sho-shos (grandmothers). The grandmothers have partnered with CTC because their children died from AIDS. They are now the sole care-takers for their grand-children. Don't think of your grandmother though, because that's probably not the right image. Think of your mom - and that's probably closer to the physical appearance of these women. The average age of the grandmothers is 40-50, and they are physically indefatigable. They were delightful and patient with us as we fumbled to till the soil and plant the vegetables.

Rocky, the CTC manager of the gardens, has a beautiful sense of humor and honest passion for his work. I feel so fortunate to know him, Charles, the Sho-shos, the Community Health Workers (who showed us around the IDP camps), Muhammed (a resident we met yesterday from the IDP Camp), Dominique (the general manager at our hotel,) Paris (a young woman who works at the hotel). CTC is a family and I'm privileged to be a part of it.

Rocky & Charles

Paris & our dinner!

Threes

July 21, 2010

This morning I was jolted out of sleep around 5:30AM to the sounds of an angry mob. What sounded like a large crowd of males were banging on the gate of our hotel. I had no idea what was happening because I don't speak Swahili. A lot of things went through my head - the most prevalent emotion being fear. A large rock was hurled at my door not long after I crawled out of my misquote net. I attempted to lock myself in the my bathroom, only to discover that the lock didn't work. I hadn't felt at all unsafe up to this point, so it never occurred to me to check the lock. As it turns out, the men had chased a thief out of town and thought he jumped into the hotel grounds. They didn't catch him that we're aware of, but they probably would have killed him if so. The mob dissipated, and we were all fine, albeit quite shaken.

As you might imagine, we had lots of conversation about what had happened throughout the day. I was really struck to think about what might have happened in the states in a similar situation. My best guess is that there would have been a great deal of unnecessary gunfire and consequent injuries. The men with rocks and machetes were merely enforcing their community norms. Stealing is not tolerated, plain and simple. In a town where the police are corrupt, it's up to the people to take care of one another. I can't imagine living in a society like that. I'll take rocks and machete-wielding self-regulations within a community any day - though that's admittedly not what crossed my mind at the time.

We spent the rest of the day at a camp for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). In the presidential election of 2007, a Prime Minister and President of different tribes were elected. There was a great deal of resulting violence. Mainly, persons of the Kikou tribe were chased out of their homes, which were burned to the ground. Entire families were killed. People fled to community churches for safety, which were consequently torched. Around 3,000 people were killed, but over 30,000 were displaced. Some still do not know the whereabouts of family members today- 3 years later. 3 years later, many are still living in tents. Today, many of those families welcomed us into their humble tents and homes. They graciously shared their stories. The way that many of us would tell of our family heritage, our history as a recovering addict, or our triumphs as an athlete, each and every person whom we encountered today introduced themselves in the following manner, "My name is Sylvia, and I am an IDP." 3 years later, men and women who use to run their own businesses still have no source of income. In 3 years I earned a masters degree and went through a holistic self-transformation. I cannot imagine simply putting my life on hold for 3 years. No one should be treated that way. I am overwhelmed by the need. I am overwhelmed by the suffering. I am overwhelmed by the injustice. Yet, I am also overwhelmed by their hope, their perseverance, their joy, their hospitality, and their spirit.

God, give me the grace to tell their story.

Malika Mums & Kids

Two of the Malika kids and some friends, including Ruth (seated closest to me.)

July 19, 2010

Today we received a thorough tour of the town of Maai Mahiu from our fearless guide, Charles. We walked the neighborhoods, somewhat overwhelmed and silenced by the amount of trash. It was difficult to understand why so many children were not in school. Yet, also beautiful to receive simple, yet enthusiastic greetings from each and everyone, "How are you? How are you?" We visited Ngea Primary school, one of the poorest in the region, where we spent time in the garden later that week. We caught a glimpse of CTC's gardens throughout the community.

We also toured the CTC headquarters, learning more about each of their primary initiatives. We met the Malika mums, meaning "angel moms." These women are the mothers of the disabled children who go to school at CTC. Disabilities carry a huge stigma in Africa - even more so than other countries. A need rose up organically out of the community to have a place that is safe, an educational environment for the children, and a means of income for the mothers of these children. Currently, only children who can walk, or whose families can deliver them to CTC each day are able to attend school. Finding a way to meet the needs of those who are a few kilometers a way remains a huge priority for CTC. Several times a week, Special Education Professionals travel to Maai Mahiu to train the teachers/caretakers in specialized care. Liz, the group leader for the mums, explained their activities to us. They make L.I.F.E.bags - essentially what you would think of as non-plastic grocery bags - except they're beautiful. Each woman has a role in making each bag, and they rotate everyday. They make them in bulk or for individuals, but all the proceeds go directly to the mums to help support their families.

There are three main classrooms of Malika kids, "angel kids." The first classroom has children who are both non-verbal and do not have full control over their bodies. These are typically the children who have most recently joined CTC. The second classroom has both children who are verbal and children who are not. But it was also an amazing site to have Charles introduce the children to us and realize that they are all able to sit or stand - a feat which they were not able to accomplish a short time ago. The final classroom is full of some of the children whom we might consider "mainstream" in the US. They have more energy and spunk than most kids I've ever met! This group of Malika kids were soooo excited to show off for us. They sang us a few songs, "I wake up in the morning and I wash my face, I brush my teeth, I take a cup of tea, I go to school...", recited some scripture passages, and showed off their math skills on the chalk board. As we introduced ourselves, Charles quizzed the children as to who could remember our names. These children will pop up in the story again later in the week, but to say I was impressed would them would be a dramatic understatement. The main edict of the Malika program is, "Disability is not inability" - a lesson that I gather many of us could stand to be reminded of, no matter where we are.

I had to excuse myself from the room to get some fresh air before too long. The day had been a bit overwhelming, and seeing three classrooms full of children was about all I could handle. Charles came over to me on the bench and took my hand and offered a memorable question that he had heard from one of his systematic theology professors a while back, "Why did God choose to be glorified in children like this?"

Malika Mums dancing & performing on Ubuntu day (Saturday.) Jane, the woman pictured in the front, has a disabled daughter. But she lives at the IDP camp over 5 kilometers away, so she is unable to transport her daily. Jane is still involved as a Malika mum, in hopes that there will soon be a means for her daughter to come to school everyday.

God's Dancing Day

For the past twelve days, I embarked on a journey with the Community & Faith team to Maai Mahiu, Kenya through Comfort the Children International, CTC. While I did not take my lap top to blog every night, I did record my thoughts and experience the old fashioned way - a pen and paper, kids! The lessons I learned and stories I heard are much too important to keep to myself. One way I am trying to get the word out is by converting my journal entries into blog format. I traveled with a fabulous team of five others from Austin & Houston. Please realize that my reflections are just what I was able to see through my own lens. I hope this is just the beginning of many more conversations and trips to come.

July 18, 2010

Tonight is my first night in Maai Mahiu, Kenya. It is strange - I've journeyed so far, and yet i feel so at home. There is so little that actually separates humanity. The human condition is fundamentally universal. Yet we find so many ways to focus on the differences. It is a joy and a blessing to be able to focus on the beauty in humanity half way around the world.

After arriving at the Longernot Transit Hotel - where we will be staying all week - we took off into a rural portion of the Rift Valley. In the absolute middle of nowhere, we came upon a church building. Area tribes and churches had gathered under one roof to welcome the American visitors from CTC. Rarely have I experienced anything as pure. It was authentic songs of the soul. It was movement of the spirit and praise of God. One of the first songs they sang for us was about every person using the gifts they have been given from God. I traveled 9,000 miles and the first piece of scripture I heard was one that we've used so often at summer camp. God's presence is stunning.

We sat under a tree and had a feast that the women had been preparing for us all morning, Nyama Choma (roasted meat). The generosity of the Masai was apparent and deep. I spent the rest of the afternoon dancing with a little girl in a beautiful orange taffeta dress. Her smile was beautiful and her laugher intoxicating. As we were squatting and examining goats, she stood and said good-bye. Her mother had appeared on the horizon of the bush. How she knew she was there, I'll never know. My new friend took off running.

Later, Jeremiah, the Kenya director of CTC, explained how unique the village and the worship service was. Different tribes don't typically live and worship together, especially after post-election violence in 2007. Although tribal difference is the means by which it is described in Kenya, it was striking to me that we all find ways to separate ourselves from one another. I wonder why we do this. Because of a local rock quarry, people of all tribes have come together in this portion of the valley. As Jeremiah put it, "They have found a need for one another." I'm certain that it was God's dancing day!

The soundtrack running through my mind all day was an album new to me, Mumford & Sons'Sigh No More. The lyrics to "Awake My Soul" stuck with me throughout the day that was an overwhelmingly transcendent experience.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes

I struggle to find any truth in your lies

And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know

This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all

But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see

But your soul you must keep, totally free

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

You were made to meet your maker

(Sunset outside the Longernot Transit Hotel)

Penultimate Experience

Well, we're over half way through the week. The rain has not subsided, and fatigue is starting to set in. We took it easy this morning, and spent the afternoon working at the summer camp at Christ Church Cathedral in New Orleans. Many of our youth had already spent a day or two there this week, but we all got to go together this afternoon. It was a fantastic experience. Each of the youth had one, if not four, kids hanging on them at all times. They played games, spent time reading stories, taught karate, and sang songs. It was great fun!

Tonight we went back to St. Anna's Episcopal Church for their mid-week Eucharist. It was just as much fun as Sunday morning, and this time we got to share our experiences with our friends from Connecticut. Following the service, we were served dinner - delicious Nah'wlins red beans & rice - by the St. Anna's parish family. We also got to enjoy traditional New Orleans jazz by Doc Otis and the Junker Jazz Allstars. They were fantastic!

The emotional toll of a trip with such great intensity is starting to pile up. The youth are asking hard questions, not finding easy answers, and struggling with issues - personal and communal. None of this is bad - in fact, it's exactly what should be happening. But that doesn't mean it's not overwhelming. Each of us will come back changed. And we can't wait to share those experiences with you!

In the midst of tearful revelations, downpours, and challenging work - we've still laughed so hard we've cried every single day. It's ben an unforgettable week.

Tomorrow is our last full day of work. Then we're off to a final Cajun dinner, Zydaco dancing, and closing Eucharist. In the midst of packing, and trying to get things wrapped up, I won't have time to blog tomorrow night. But please know that we've had a wonderful trip. All is well. And we couldn't be more grateful for your love and support. Thank you, St. David's.

Goodnight, New Orleans!

Troubled Waters

Today we did hurricane clean-up work in the midst of rain from a tropical storm in the Gulf. It was WET - all day. During one particular downpour, we asked the youth to gather under the shelter. After a total of three and a half minutes they began asking why they couldn't work in the rain. Realizing there were no doors for us to lock, they just ran back into the rain and continued working to clear the lots. One youth boldly proclaimed, "This is nothing compared to Katrina! Of course we can handle this."

Reginald is a resident in the lower 9th ward. This morning he shared with me his story of the storm. After the levees had broken, he took a boat that he found stuck in a tree and went from house to house rescuing his elderly neighbors.

James is the caretaker at Annunciation, where we are staying. He gathered seven of his friends the day after the storm to rescue residents in his neighborhood. By the end of the day, only two of his friends were still alive. Tonight during compline, he took time to share his story with us. Let me just preface his story by sharing that James is no wilting flower - think Michael Duncan as John Coffey in The Green Mile. The man oozes wisdom. I've never met a grown adult who openly shares emotions when they are particularly tough. James began by telling us that after the storm, he cried himself to sleep 365 days a year for 3 straight years. Did you know that a Pampers diaper will allow a baby to float for up to an hour and a half? James found that out on August 30, 2005 as he was swimming the streets in the Broadmoor district trying to revive baby after baby that was floating on the surface of the water that flooded the neighborhood - not from a broken levee, but from a flooded sewage system. James spent the next few weeks in the New Orleans convention center. He described vivid scenes and shared images that I'll never be able to get out of my head. But most startling was his proclamation that, "Racism and classism will exist until the end of time. There ain't nothing you can do about that. But for those few days, God leveled the playing field. It didn't matter what you had, because you didn't have it anymore. We was all one." Each night from approximately 6PM until 1AM, a large group of residents in the Convention Center gathered for Bible Study. James also commented on the diversity of denominations and backgrounds of the participants. Once again, it didn't matter where people had come from, they were all praying to the same God. One of the most startling moments for the youth came when James reminded them what happened to peers their age. In the wake of the storm, many schools were shut down and children and families were shipped to various states. All students had to take entry exams. Those who were previously in 11th grade, may have been pushed back to 9th grade if they didn't perform well enough on tests. There was no advocating to be done. That was their new life.

Jean makes breakfast for us every morning. In the aftermath of the storm, she rescued 17 people from her neighborhood in the lower 9th ward and piled them into her four door sedan and drove them to Baton Rouge. One of the gentlemen was mentally handicapped. Upon arriving in Baton Rouge, he complained to the authorities that he had been kidnapped. Jean and her husband were punished and not allowed to sleep in the shelter that they had shuttled everyone to.

James, Reginald, and Jean have first hand experience in the business of saving people. Yet, in the telling of their stories, in the coming alive of the truths they have lived, they told about how they had been saved by Hurricane Katrina. Without exception, they had positive things to say - lessons learned from the storm, bridges built, and the power of an incarnational God.

Christianity is an incarnational religion. Jesus Christ came to be incarnate among the people. We are called to spread the Good News of God's love through relationships. It doesn't matter the depth of your knowledge of Christian scripture or theology if it remains in a vacuum. It is when the power of Christian love becomes incarnate through relationships that we are changed.

Despite obvious frustration and anger towards the city and the government, James preached (although I'm not sure that's what he would call it,) a message of reconciliation tonight. He ended with this proclamation, "It is because of you - volunteers - that our city is back. You all are the president. You all are the governors. You all are our government." The city is being transformed by the people who show up, who are present, and who spread the love of God.

Today one of the adults caught three of our youth gathered in an area with heavy brush holding hands and praying. Yeah, that really happened. The power of God in these people and this place is undeniable. And we are being changed because of it.

Good night, New Orleans!

Lower 9th Ward

I have to start tonight's blog by sharing with you a quote from last night's baseball game that I forgot to include in yesterday's post. So when I told you there were varying degrees of interest in the actual game, the most apparent indicator of that was one of our youth asking, "How many teams are playing?" at the beginning of the game.

Not once - during total indifference to a baseball game, working in 90 degree heat with 100% humidity, or while waiting in line for showers with 40 of their closest friends have the youth complained. Most (if not all) of the time, we haven't fully known what we were getting ourselves into. But the attitudes with which the youth have approached every task has been nothing short of Holy.

Today was our first day of work. Some of us went to a summer camp that is being run by Christ Church Cathedral. The youth who went to that site spent time working and playing with younger kids, which they loved. One of the challenging aspects of the camp for our group to confront was the lack of structure and resources that were being poured into the kids. It did NOT look anything like Vacation Bible School at St. David's. As one of our adult volunteers pointed out, "I'm certain that the people running this thing have not been 'Safeguarded'." Over and over again, we are confronting our own expectations and how that informs our ideas of "success." This is such important work.

The other members of our group headed to the Lower 9th Ward for a full day of work. We have made a new best friend, Ms. Jackson. (And yes, we have also found our theme song for the trip!) We have been paired with the Homeowners Association of the Lower 9th Ward, of which Ms. Jackson is the president. She introduced us to her neighbors and showed us around the neighborhood. Ms. Jackson lives three blocks from one of the levees that broke and flooded this area of town. Driving around was absolutely surreal. A neighborhood that used to be bustling and dynamic is still actively struggling to recover. There was a sign on the main road that proudly proclaimed, "Rebuilding our neighborhood," with the signatures of major city officials. Just below the main message was a graffiti response that read, "Five years too late!" In more concrete terms - there used to be 18,000 residents in the lower 9th ward. There are currently 2,000 residents. We were also able to drive around the streets on which Brad Pitt has been the catalyst for building environmentally sustainable, affordable homes for working class families. The dignity and beauty that has been brought to the community by this project is breathtaking! They have only just begun.

Our task for the day was to help clear overgrown lots where homes used to be. Families who used to live in the neighborhood and still own property, many of whom have not yet moved back to the city, are being fined $100 a day by the city for not maintaining their property. I don't spend $100 a day on anything. I can't imagine losing $100 a day on something that I am not physically present to control. Many of the residents are elderly and are not physically capable of maintaining their property. Others are simply not back yet - for a whole host of reasons. Our youth dove head first into the deep end. We were given weed wackers that didn't work, scythes that wouldn't stay attached to the handles, and saws that were rusted through. Not once did they complain. As we parked the vans and climbed out, there was nothing but overgrown brush, weeds, and a "massive sea of green." Block by block - they wacked, cut, snipped, raked, and hand-cleared everything in sight. By mid-afternoon we could see sidewalk, porches, and shrubbery that wasn't there a few hours earlier. As unglamorous as the job was, it was gratifying to be able to point and see how much progress we were making. The power of working with a group was also magnified as the old adage, "conquer and divide," came through in a big way.

This evening we had a presentation from Pete Nunnally, the director of Episcopal Community Services of Louisiana. He gave us an eye-opening volunteer orientation. Pete began by getting the youth to share their various assumptions and biases that had been picked up along the way about the city, Hurricane Katrina, and volunteer work in general. With maps of waterways, diagrams of the socioeconomic make-up of the city, and strategic points of city-rebuild programs, we systematically had our assumptions debunked. Pete held their attention for an hour and a half. And then they TALKED about it afterwords!!! Good things are happening here.

Our group looks forward to Compline at the end of the day and the time when everyone receives letters from their prayer partners. Please know that as the youth are serving others, learning about themselves, and glorifying God, St. David's is with us on every step of the journey. The youth are asking questions and getting to know each of our prayer partners through letters and stories from the adults hundreds of miles away. The youth are more engrained in their home parish and the world than when we left three days ago.

Two of the youth hijacked the computer momentarily and had this to offer about their Mondays. Emily Hodge said, "I am learning a great deal about community, peace, and loving your neighbor. I have met some great people from all over America, and I love them already. Bryant Bowyer added this, "I have learned about the unfortunate cards that truly amazing people have been dealt, and I am learning everyday that although the circumstances may look extremely grim, there is alway a way that I can help."

Thanks be to God! Good night New Orleans.

Zealous for Zephyrs

After a much needed night's rest, our day began at Lil Dizzy's Cafe in the Treme district. It's a greasy spoon of the best sort, where the youth indulged in "New Orleans style French toast," omelettes, and Soul Food. The food was exceptional! We have yet to enter an establishment - food, worship, or otherwise - where people do not bend over backwards to share gratuitous hospitality. Lil Dizzy's, named after the owner's grandson who plays saxophone, was no exception.

After sharing a leisurely Sunday brunch, we walked the two blocks to St. Anna's Episcopal Church. Greeting us on the walls of the garden outside of the church were laundry lists with the names of people in the immediate neighborhood who had died a violent death, listed by year. The list for 2010 is already taller than we are, and it's only June. I think it's fair to say that the youth entered with a bit of caution, not knowing what to expect. We enjoyed every minute we spent with the St. Anna's community. It is certainly more, "smells, bells, and whistles" than we're used to. But the youth were respectfully observant and quick to voice the practices they thought St. David's should adopt in our debrief following the service. Father Terry preached a fantastic sermon about the Cost of Discipleship. To say that his message came through loud and clear would be an understatement. The youth had lots to say about the ways in which his message applied to our purpose this week. It was the welcome after the peace that did me in. Father Terry took the time to greet us and thank us for being in New Orleans, "90% of the challenge of discipleship is showing up. And that is exactly what you've done for us. You have honored the city and people of New Orleans simply by being here. Thank you." We look forward to returning to St. Anna's on Wednesday evening for their Mission to Musicians program - dinner and New Orleans Jazz!

Our next stop was the French Quarter. For many of us, it was our first time in the quarter. The stories are too varied and exciting to relay here now, but be sure to ask us when we get home! We broke into small groups and went exploring with an adult and a few other youth. Beignets, jambalaya, gumbo, masks, and bead were all a part of this exciting afternoon!

Later in the afternoon we drove through some of the most devastated neighborhoods in the city after Katrina hit. In particular, we laid eyes on the spots where some of the levees broke and completely cleared entire areas of town. We've also been marveling at the Superdome and surrounding highways - where we know folks were camped out for days. When we got back to Annunciation, Lee Parker (one of our adult sponsors whose parents were living in New Orleans during Katrina,) shared a slideshow of his pictures from the same neighborhoods we drove through today the Christmas after Katrina. There has certainly been progress. But it's remarkable how much there is yet to be done.

We ended our day with a New Orleans Zephyrs baseball game (minor league, AAA). While there was a variety of levels of enthusiasm, all were proud of our 8th inning rally. Though the Zephyrs were losing 2-8 at this point, we managed to get into cheering/dancing match with another large group of youth in a different section on the next level up in the stadium. Yes, we made the jumbotron - MORE THAN ONCE. Although the Zephyrs lost, it was an epic evening for team St. David's!

Our youth have been stunningly quick to jump on board with my challenge of never complaining about the heat. We are convinced that being from Texas, we can handle the weather much more gracefully than the groups from Virginia, Connecticut, and Missouri. So whenever, someone makes a comment about the heat, our youth are quick to respond with, "It's just bright out here." Or, "This...this is like October in Austin." I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow, once the work begins.

Good night from New Orleans!

ROAD Trip

Well, today we barreled through most of the Eastern portion of Texas and through Louisiana to arrive in New Orleans around 5PM. Traffic was easy, the passengers were entertaining, and the company was unbeatable! We've begun our quest for the most tacky souvenir. In two so far are a bad 80's karaoke CD and some kickin rock-star sunglasses.

We are staying at Annunciation Mission in the Broadmoor district of New Orleans. We dined at Ms. Hyster's Bar-be-que. Talk about some SOUL FOOD! The restaurant was closed for the evening for a catering event. Ms. Hyster opened for us after some sweet-talking from my friend Josh, the group leader from New Caanan, Connecticut. 40 in tow from Texas and Connecticut filled the restaurant to the brim. What followed was, according to Bryant, "The best ribs I've ever had." We were smothered in baked beans, green beans, potato salad, "baked macaronis," chicken, and ribs. Family style comfort food was exactly what the doctor ordered. Upon receiving amply praise from the youth, Ms. Hyster discovered we were from Texas. She promptly responded with, "So wait! You're telling me we've beaten you in BBQ? That means we've now beaten you in football and BBQ!" Hilarity ensued. If you're ever in NOLA, you MUST visit Ms. Hyster.

Ms. Hyster also educated us about her neighborhood during and after Katrina. As you can see from this map, the Broadmoor district was in the area of town that was under 6-8 feet of water. That's taller than me, and most of the stoplights on the street.

Well satisfied, we headed back to Annunciation for some epic card games and tours around the swing set. Around 9Pm, we gathered with the full mission team of 61 from Virginia, Missouri, Connecticut, and Texas. Ice-breaker games helped us get to know our new found friends and mission partners. The evening ended with a lovely compline service led by the Rev. Justin McIntosh from Virginia. It's 11PM and we're exhausted - even if we don't know it!

Good night from New Orleans!

a NEW kind of Christianity???

I heard this very interesting piece on NPR this morning. I'm not personally familiar enough with McLaren's work to know exactly what the crux of his argument is. He certainly has raised an interesting point about both age & denominational discrepancies. Check it out!

A New Kind of Christianity

by BRIAN D. MCLAREN

March 29 marks the beginning of the holiest week for Christians — when believers reflect on the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. This year, there's something of a dust-up among evangelicals over core beliefs about who Jesus was and whether he is the only way to salvation.

Who is Brian McLaren, and what has he done to make these people so angry?

Who is Brian McLaren, and what has he done to make these people so angry?

It turns out that McLaren is considered one of the country's most influential evangelicals, and his new book, A New Kind of Christianity, takes aim at some core doctrinal beliefs. McLaren is rethinking Jesus' mission on Earth, and even the purpose of the crucifixion.

"The view of the cross that I was given growing up, in a sense, has a God who needs blood in order to be appeased," McLaren says. "If this God doesn't see blood, God can't forgive."

McLaren believes that version of God is a misreading of the Bible.

"God revealed in Christ crucified shows us a vision of God that identifies with the victim rather than the perpetrator, identifies with the one suffering rather than the one inflicting suffering," he says.

McLaren says modern evangelicalism underplays that Jesus — who spent most of his time with the poor, the sick and the sinners — saved his wrath primarily for hard-core religious leaders.

Mohler says McLaren and others like him are trying to rewrite the Christian story. And what alarms Mohler is that young believers are attracted to this message.

That's absolutely right, says McLaren. Consider the core evangelical belief that only Christians are going to heaven and everyone else is doomed. That may have rung true for his grandparents' generation, he says, but not now.

"A young evangelical, Roman Catholic [or] mainline Protestant growing up in America today, if he goes to college, his roommate might be Hindu," he says. "His roommate might be Muslim. His roommate might be Buddhist or atheist. So, suddenly the 'other' is sleeping across the room.

Taste & See

Magic Marker

just because it's not accepted, doesn't mean it ain't allright.

just another frozen kid who's tryin to make it thru tonite.

ordinary pens and notebooks, ain't no ordinary life.

all the freaked out measure i took tryin to make you sickos smile.

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

it's got a magic marker stain on its face and it needs a shower.

there's somethin sweet- waiting in the center: taste and see!

there's somethin sweet- waiting in the center-

don't nobody look at me! don't nobody look at me!

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

it's got a magic marker stain on its face and it needs a shower.

how many licks does it take to get...? taste and see!

how maky licks does it take to get- to the center where there's somethin sweet!

to the center wher there's somethin sweet!

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

ordinary don't mean nothin no-how- look what's ordinary now

look what's ordinary now

look at ordinary now

-Monsters of Folk

Barabbas

This week in Sunday School we will continue our exploration of Power & Passion in the passion narratives. We will focus on Barabbas.

Last week you all named people who have power – the President of the United States, the pope, your parents, your teachers, etc. You also named some of the characteristics common to many kinds of leaders. Making allowances for a variety of contexts, what are some of the ways in which you think people might respond to domination? I’m not talking about the kind of power your teacher exerts by giving you homework, or your parents display by grounding you. I’m thinking more of the context in which the Gentiles were oppressed by the dominant Roman culture. What are some possible ways that they might have responded?

Barabbas and Jesus’ names mean the same thing. “Bar” means “son” and “abba” means father. Thus, Barabbas = son of the father. Jesus also means “son of the father.” So Jesus and Barabbas are called the same thing. How are they different? Who are they?

Why does it matter that Barabbas was chosen by the people instead of Jesus? Who does Barabbas represent for us today?

Welcome, Lent

Below is today's blog posting from Bishop Andy Doyle of the Diocese of Texas. He offers a beautiful invitation at the beginning of this Lenten Season. I pray it will help you to consider what this Lent holds in store for you.

"As we enter the season of Lent I would like to draw our attention to the call of a particular Lenten discipline: prayer. We are called to a holy Lent which is the result of a number of disciplines--the first is prayer and the last is meditating on God's holy Word - Jesus Christ as revealed in the scriptures (BCP 264ff). I believe it is through the discipline of prayer and meditation that we are transformed and may better serve and bear witness to God's mercy in our lives.


I have a long and winding prayer journey with God and with Jesus. I first learned to pray the Lord's Prayer as a child. I remember that most of my prayer life as a child was as a petitioner and was most likely egocentric; but those are the beautiful prayers of children. I can imagine that God smiles at these prayers.

Adolescence brought prayers of sadness, joy and gratitude as I lived a somewhat difficult teenage life. These would lead to prayers of discernment about ministry. I learned to pray the Daily Office while in college and was introduced to daily mass. I studied prayer for a semester under an American Orthodox seminarian. He taught me meditation and contemplation. We read and sat together quietly. His name escapes me now but his ministry and mentorship provided a life-long lesson of sitting still with God.

I also was introduced to private confession during this same time, which has continued. I experienced the discipline of daily chapel and Morning Prayer in a deeper sense while I was chaplain at St. Stephen's School, Austin. This was reinforced at Virginia Seminary and today the Daily Office is my daily companion. When I left seminary I toyed with the Franciscan tertiary order but eventually landed on the Society of St. John the Evangelist as a support for the prayer life on which I had come to rely. I began to develop a rule of life, which I continue to this day.

Today, this takes the form of sitting quietly daily before I read Morning Prayer. I follow the ordo (liturgical) calendar of the Society of St. John, so I am praying within community each day. I pray for the clergy of the diocese by name throughout the week. I pray for my staff, along with a list of concerns given to me. I pray a prayer based upon the ordination service for a bishop and read (along with the scripture appointed for the day) a portion of the Archbishop's reflections on the ministry of bishop.

My prayer life has been healthy and sometimes it has not. There is an ebb and flow as I look over the years; however, as I get older my dependence on this daily routine continues to become more deeply rooted. I am out of sorts when I do not follow my daily feast of quiet, intercession, thanksgiving and meditation on God.

As I think back, I think the most difficult work of prayer begins after the conversation has gone quiet--meaning when I have forgotten to pray. After long periods of silence from my end of the connection, or in those times of deep questioning, I find it so difficult to know just what to say. I also remember how difficult it was to begin prayer. I remember it was hard as a child. I remember it was hard as a young adult. Perhaps we place too many expectations on prayer. I guess it is a human thing, but I can get so focused on praying "right" that I forget the sustenance of prayer, which is most often in the deep well of silence or in the questions themselves. I wonder if you find this true as well.

It seems so many people, ordinary people like myself, have a hard time knowing how to begin to pray. Richard J. Foster in his book entitled Prayer, offers a useful reminder for us all. "We will never have pure enough motives, or be good enough, or know enough in order to pray rightly. We simply must set all these things aside and begin praying. In fact, it is in the very act of praying itself--the intimate, ongoing interaction with God-- that these matters are cared for in due time. What I am trying to say is that God receives us just as we are and accepts our prayers just as they are."(R. J. Foster, Prayer, p. 8) So, I encourage you to begin or to begin again for the first time.

Find a comfortable, quiet place where you might pray daily. Write down a list of those for whom you would like to pray. Will you use written prayers from a book, the Prayer Book or other sources? Place them near by. Will you use a rosary? An icon? Set up your place and make it your deliberate place to be with God. Then go there each day. Go and be with God and open your heart to his companionship in your life. Sit quietly. Use words of prayer. Pray the Lord's Prayer. Pray a portion of scripture.

I encourage you to sit and be with God. Begin again, perhaps for the first time, a conversation with God. If you have a rule of life, dust it off and recharge it with committed time to follow its precepts. Pray, pray, pray. For it is in praying that we are truly transformed to be a witness of Jesus Christ. It is in prayer that we are humbled by the abundance of God's grace.

One of the prayers that I pray every day is the General Thanksgiving prayer at the end of Morning Prayer II, (BCP, 101). Along with thousands and thousands of Christians around the world each morning I pray, "give us such an awareness of your mercies, that with truly thankful hearts we may show forth your praise, not only with our lips, but in our lives, by giving up ourselves to your service…"

I hope you might join me in daily prayer and service this Lent and, with me, rediscover our conversation with God."

Somethin' Fishy

This week's Gospel text comes to us from the book of Luke. It's a fairly well-quoted passage because it has very specific implications for ministry. I think there are some fundamental issues at stake that are worth addressing.

First, I have to admit that I know NOTHING about fishing. I know that I enjoy eating fish that someone else has caught. I know that fishing boats smell fishy. I know that fishing happens largely before and after sunrise, and that it's very hard work. I think it's also interesting that I do not personally know anyone who is a professional fisherman. It is not as common as it used to be back in Jesus' day. Fisherman like Simon Peter, James, and John were responsible for feeding their families and often their communities. Meaning - many people relied on them for a fruitful day's work.

The fishermen had been working ALL night long, and had not caught a thing. When Jesus meets them on the shore, he invites them to put out their nets one more time. They didn't just catch a few fish - they filled BOTH boats to the point that they nearly sunk. This is a very clear indication of God's abundance. How have you experienced God's abundance in your life?

I think it's very significant that James, John, and Simon Peter put down their nets and decided to follow Jesus. Fishing was their livelihood. It was their communal means of sustenance. It was no small matter for these fishermen to follow Jesus out of town. Hearing God's call for our lives is not always an easy matter, nor something to be taken lightly. What would it take for you to hear God's call in your life? Do you think you would be as willing to drop your nets and follow Jesus that quickly? Do you remember a time in your life when you specifically responded to God's call to you?

Gospel for Sunday, February 7: Luke 5:1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

Home Town Hero???

This Sunday we continue our march through the Gospel of Luke. Things really start to head south for Jesus. After beginning his public ministry in Capernum, he returns to his hometown of Nazareth. What are the first images that come to mind when you think of your home town? Do you find a similar description in Luke's depiction of Jesus' experiences in Nazareth from Chapter 4?

In verse 24, Jesus tells us that "Truly, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown." What is a prophet? Can you name any Biblical and/or modern examples? What do those figures hold in common?

The last line of this passage cracks me up! It's a typical gloss, or understatement, that has been lost in translation, "But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way." Let's get real - the people were getting ready to throw him over a CLIFF. My logical brain tells me that running away from the crowd wasn't an option! So...you tell me - how did Jesus get away?

Gospel for Sunday, January 31, 2010: Luke 4:21-30

²¹Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ ²²All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?’ ²³He said to them, ‘Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, “Doctor, cure yourself!” And you will say, “Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” ’ ²⁴And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town. ²⁵But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up for three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; ²⁶yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. ²⁷There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’ ²⁸When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. ²⁹They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. ³⁰But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.