Hospitality

As I said before, the main reason I went to Guatemala was to continue my search for the answers to the questions "What is a missional community and how do you create one?" I had heard quite a bit about the work that Jorge and Annie were doing in Guatemala City and that it took place in the context of authentic missional community and I wanted to see it for myself.

So, what is a missional community? On the simplest level, we start with a group of people who are deeply committed to each other, to God, and to the world. Then we see that group of people learn to share life together (no lone ranger Christians, after all) and learn to reach purposefully into God's world to bring the light of God into dark places. All those biblical ideals like unity and sacrificial giving and unconditional love and so on are given a place to come to life.

It's easier to look at the world and say what missional community is not. It's harder to find places where it is actually lived out and describe what it is. That's what I wanted to do in Guatemala. I'll write more later this week about the story of Ciudad de Refugio and Jorge and Annie Cerritos.

On the most fundamental level, missional community--and in fact, satisfying life itself--seems to be about hospitality. I don't mean Southern Living, Martha Stewart hospitality, although there's nothing wrong with that if you can pull it off. I can't.

Hospitality is the act of welcoming, the lifestyle of creating space, the commitment to draw others in rather than shut them out. At it's core, missional living is no more complicated than this. Here are some stories of hospitality:

This is Won, aka Juan, who has come all the way from the Pacific Northwest to love Guatemalan children. He lives in the large house next to the Cerritos' home and cares for the children who live there and who pass through. While we were visiting, a mother abandoned her four children at the church. It was this young American man who stopped everything he was doing to care for those frightened children until things could be resolved.

This woman lives across from the church and is likely in her eighties. She took in four abandoned children and is raising them in the loving community of Ciudad del Refguio. She feeds and clothes them on her limited resources and loves them well. The children are bright and talented and go to school. More about them later. Without the love of this woman, though, they would live on the streets like so many children do.

Part of what hospitality means in the Cerritos household is the constant making of meals, cleaning up after meals, planning for meals, shopping for meals, and thankfully, eating meals! There are about 15 people who eat at the Cerritos table regularly (three meals a day, 7 days a week) as well as visitors like us and others who show up from time to time. As you can imagine, the work is constant and unromantic and hard. Abuelita (Grandmother) on the left and Sandra are making pupusas here on a griddle on a portable propane stove.

This is Norma, with one of the many children she loves and cares for on her shoulders. Norma is the oldest daughter of Jorge and Annie, educated in the United States and now sharing a room with Abuelita in her parents' home. She works all day in a children's home in another part of the city and then returns home to take her part in the ministry of Ciudad del Refugio.

While we were there, Norma ran a large VBS at the church, cared for the children who were always at the center of life at the Cerritos' home, translated for us, encouraged her parents and still went to work every day. One of our team told me about a conversation she had with Norma in which she asked Norma, "Don't you ever get tired of not having your own space? Don't you get tired of not having your own time, time for yourself?" Norma responded with genuine confusion: "Who owns time? Who owns space? I don't own time. I don't own space. Time and space belong to God." I don't believe that this conversation was just a breakdown in translation. I believe that Norma understands on a level I never will what it means to live a life of hospitality. Her relaxed openness to whatever life brings, her posture of welcoming and accepting is what hospitality is all about. I become more and more convinced that hospitality is what the gospel is all about.

Merry Christmas

I used to be the "Christmas Queen" around here (ho, ho, ho and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls . . . ) but that seems to be a thing of the past. These days, "good enough" has to be good enough.

This year, the best part of the season has been having all of us together for the first time in six months. In one week, Mowgli came home from India/China and Boo got her official acceptance letter to UMHB. It was an exciting week!

I have to think that was a cherished part of Mary's first Christmas as well. There was no real reason for her to accompany Joseph to Bethlehem except that maybe she just wanted to be with him, to be together in whatever adventure God had planned for them.

Of course, it turned out to be so much bigger than just Mary and her beloved husband and their new baby. This poem has captured my attention this year and it illustrates all that Christmas represents for us on a larger scale, reminding us that Jesus did not just come into the world so that I and my family could go to heaven when we die but so that the world might be reconciled to God and to itself. This prayer/poem is my Christmas gift for you:

It is not true that creation and the human family are doomed to destruction and loss. This is true: For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

It is not true that we must accept inhumanity and discrimination, hunger and poverty, death and destruction. This is true: I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.

It is not true that violence and hatred should have the last word. This is true: For unto us a Child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

It is not true that we are simply victims of the powers of evil who seek to rule the world. This is true: To me is given authority in heaven and on earth, and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.

It is not true that we have to wait for those who are specially gifted, who are the prophets of the church, before we can be peacemakers. This is true: I will pour out my spirit on all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your young shall see visions and your old shall dream dreams.

It is not true that our hopes for the liberation of humankind, of justice, of human dignity, of peace are not meant for this earth and for this history. This is true: The hour comes, and it is now, that true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth.

So let us move from Advent to Christmas with hope,
even hope against hope,
Let us see visions of love and peace and justice.
Let us affirm with humility, with faith, with courage:
Jesus Christ, the Life of the world.

~by poet, peacemaker and Jesuit priest Daniel Berrigan, who has been nominated for the Nobel Peace prize many times.

Peace on earth and merry Christmas~

Questions

The first thing people ask is, "So why did you go?" The truth is, I'm not sure exactly why I went to Guatemala. The simple answer is, "Because JTH asked me to." A little more complicated answer is, "I'd been thinking and praying for awhile about adventure and I thought maybe the invitation to go to Guatemala was related to that. A more profound and truthful answer is, "I went to Guatemala to learn."

The next thing people ask is, "What did you do there?" Well, I met some really amazing people, spent a lot of time waiting for the next thing, taught three parenting classes (sort of), spent some quality time with some other amazing people including my friend PB, washed quite a few dishes and experienced the wonderful hospitality of the Cerritos family and Ciudad de Refugio church. And yes, I learned. More about that later.

Eventually, people ask, "Have you posted any pictures online yet?" There are more on Facebook but here are a few:


This is the church--Ciudad de Refugio (City of Refuge). It meets in the garage of a family whose lives were transformed by the power of the gospel. The man with the microphone is Jorgito Cerritos, the son of the pastor and our host for four nights.

This is PB and Ryan and Juli, along with Abuelita (Grandmother) and Flori. Abuelita and Flori work nonstop to feed all the members of the household (upward of 10 and always changing). Here, Abuelita is making puposas for a special supper.

This is one shot of the view from our roof. The natural beauty of Guatemala is wonderful.

This is Annie and Jorge Cerritos who pastor Ciudad de Refugio. I'll tell their story later. This photo was taken at Pizza Hut.

Sustained but not sustainable

I have a dear friend who lives a very rich and full life who, when asked how she is doing, will sometimes say, "Sustained." It's not an overly precious answer. It's an honest assessment of how she lives her life and how she feels at that moment.

If you asked me right now how I am doing, I would take a page from Shawn's book and say, "Sustained," with deep gratitude. I feel sustained by a Source beyond myself, a stream of living water, a waterfall of abundant life.

When I look at what's going on--a deep commitment to Boo and being her mom, four trips to Houston in three weeks, including 3 three-day retreats, a full counseling practice that doesn't go away just because I'm out of town, curriculum to write and notebooks to finish, billing that isn't going to do itself, a growing group of young adults to teach and love and lead in missional community, an upcoming trip to Guatemala--I can feel an immediate wash of exhaustion and a rising sense of panic. However, when I ask myself in any given moment, "How am I doing right now?" the answer has so far always been "I'm doing really well. I'm feeling fully alive and grateful and awake. I have everything I need . . . for right now."

I'm really happy that I've learned more over the last few years about how to live in the now. "Be here, be now" has been my mantra for awhile now and I'm learning to live into it and the peace it brings.

On the other hand, I also know . . . I am sustained but this is not sustainable. Pray for me as I figure that part out. Bill Hybels said, "I am doing the work of God in the world at a pace that is destroying the work of God in my life." That is a very real and present danger. At the same time, that's not my current reality. Pray for me as I figure out how to say yes to God and no to all the other good ideas. Pray for me as I learn to step courageously into this life without settling for well-meaning busyness.

Life is really good right now . . .

A perfect evening in London

Everyone told us to see a show in London while we were there. As much as I would have loved to see Les Miserables on the London stage, we were doing the budget version of this trip and we do see shows as often as we can in Houston, so we decided to forego the "theatah." What we did do was to get fantastic seats at the Globe Theater for Henry IV on a beautiful Sunday evening, with clearing evening skies after a gray and rainy day. Here are some pics:

One of the best things was seeing original drawings and paintings of the Globe in the National Gallery and realizing how much the original integrity of the theater was preserved. I had never seen Shakespeare live before either and that was amazing.

Perfect Protest

In her new book, Brene Brown writes, "Perfectionism is a twenty-ton shield we carry around because we think it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing preventing us from taking flight." Over on her blog, she is following up by spearheading a Perfect Protest and asking her readers who blog to take part. The motto: "Authentic is the new perfect." The method: Taking a picture of yourself with your own protest against perfectionism.

Here's mine:

Have you ever wondered about the title of this blog? I need to tell you a story.

A long time ago, when the kids were really little, I was completely overwhelmed by life. I wanted to do everything right--be the perfect mom, the perfect pastor's wife, the perfect therapist, the perfect friend and daughter and wife, and of course, the perfect Christian. Unfortunately, I felt like I wasn't coming anywhere close. (The sad thing is, when I look back, I think I was pretty amazing!)

Anyway, C came home one day and found me in full-blown meltdown mode. I recounted to him all the failures of the day which led to a litany of all the ways I was failing to measure up on pretty much every scale. He tried to talk some sense into me but I was determined to argue him out of his high opinion of me. Eventually I wailed, "I'm just so flawed!" Silently, deliberately, he walked over to me, looked deep into my eyes and said, "Yes. Wonderfully flawed."

That moment changed my life. It became the title of this blog and the north star of my life's navigation. And now it's my perfect protest. Because authenticity really is the new perfect.

Another favorite

I also really enjoyed seeing Westminster Abbey. It feels a lot like a mausoleum and a crowded one at that, filled with carved stone memorials to every notable British person you've ever heard of and a lot you haven't. So, it had the weight of history but the hourly call to prayer reminded us that it is also a living parish church.

After we toured, we went back to the high altar to sit and contemplate what we had seen. While we were sitting there, we could watch a young artist painstakingly restore the thousand-year-old floor of the high altar and we could almost touch the place where every British monarch of the last 500 years has been crowned. Surrounded by all this monument to centuries of British dominance, the altarpiece reads, "The kingdoms of this world are become the Kingdom of our God."

A priest in long black cassock came over to greet us and welcome us and we took the opportunity to tell him that we were both clergy and to ask him what it is like to serve a church that is mostly visited by tourists. He was delighted to talk to us and sat down on the steps of the high altar as though he were sitting on a sidewalk curb and shared his conviction that his presence at the Abbey is "a witness" and how the hourly call to prayer and the sacred space speak to thousands of tourists every year.

On Sunday, we came back to the Abbey for evensong. To our surprise, we were seated in the choir along with a visiting choir from an English village church who seemed just as impressed by the Abbey as we were. The service was a little more contemporary than the one at St. Paul's and the organ and choir were beautiful.

Part of the evensong service every day is the singing or chanting of the Magnificat. Here we were, surrounded by the coronation site and place of burial of every British monarch and every prominent royal, admiral, general, scientist and author of the last 500 years, each memorialized with elaborate stone carvings and statues and listening to the words of the gospel reverberate: "He has scattered those who are proud in their thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty . . . " The contrast with the kingdoms of this world and the Kingdom of our God was a startling reminder of the upside-down, subversive nature of the gospel. I wonder if anyone is listening?