Day 1

When were you most grateful?

Quick and Dirty Answer
This fall, for reasons I'll approach later, I moved to an apartment. Now, aside from that one time I lived in a trailer for a year (oh, the glory days), this is the first time I've lived alone. Back then, I lived right next door to my bosses, all of my meals were prepared for me, and all of my expenses were paid. Yes, I am grateful for all of that, but that was 2009. This was 2011. So back to the apartment. The barren apartment. When I signed the lease, I didn't own any furniture besides the chair I'm sitting on right now and the bookshelf that now holds all of my books, haphazardly shoved in any way they can fit. What could I do? I'm not exactly sitting on a pile of money (the best furniture piece, in my opinion).

In the office, Cal mentioned a friend from church who was also moving, but her problem was too much furniture! What a coincidence! Originally, I was told she had a bed (necessary), a dresser (neat), and some end tables (how cute). After talking via e-mail for several weeks, I finally made the trip into the burbs and met this mysterious helper. We got to talking and it turns out she also had several bags of clothing to take to Goodwill, which I offered to abscond with. Then she offered me a TV stand. Well, I don't have a TV. Then she offered me a TV. Then another TV stand and... well I didn't take her big-screen 42" plasma screen because I would hate to have crystal clear HD picture and not afford cable. In the end, this woman gave me all of the furniture I needed to live, minus a couch (yes, needed to live). A few days later, someone at work offered me a couch! Money! I owe it to Cal to thank her for connecting me with what constitutes a free home, as well as her modern glass kitchen table that will soon become a decorated glass kitchen table.

Long-Winded, Boring Answer Cast your memory back to September of 2009. See, I warned you this would be a long story. When I agreed to work for BVS, I was nearly completely ignorant of the Church of the Brethren as an institution. The only reason I had ever heard of Brethren Volunteer Service was because of a disaster relief trip earlier in 2008. The church I was raised in was definitely Brethren genetically, a snapshot of the struggles we face denominationally.

It was an aging church, with most of the regularly attending members well into their 60s and beyond. In high school, I was one of two youth, and I never attended summer camp, workcamps (yes, I know, it should be two words, but it's as close to a trademark as the Brethren will get), or National Youth Conference. I was unaware of the denomination's peace stance. We had a member of the National Guard in our church, whom we prayed for each time he toured in Afghanistan, a man who was as solid a foundation of our family as the elderly members who had attended since they helped build the church. And no, I do not remember ever learning of the CoB's historic peace stance.

To tell the truth, none of that mattered to us. You could tell me story upon story of how great our founders were, or how holy some random people along the way have been, but they're just stories. And at the little church in Richardson Park, I dare say we wouldn't listen very long. The one value that was instilled in me, which came about not through Sunday school or in a sermon, was the importance of sharing your faith in a way that proved it was true. I'm talking about distributing food in the neighborhood, hosting NA meetings, traveling to disaster sites and rebuilding houses, and washing each others' feet. You didn't have to tell me we were Christians, or explain who started the tradition. What was important was the doing.

I can't remember when, or explain why I first felt angry at the institution of the Church, I think it was a teenage thing that stuck because that was the environment that I happened to be in at the time. Aside from hearing that the same person was our Annual Conference delegate each year, I didn't know enough about the church as a whole to be upset about it. It was enough to know that we gave money to support something that wasn't immediately serving the outside. Relax, Elgin friends, and read on! Mostly, perhaps, because in my mind, the Kingdom of God should be so busy doing its job that it doesn't have the time to argue over who's in and who's out, which is all I perceived as the function of the higher church body. How can you afford the time to rally against such a cause as gay rights within the church? Shouldn't we be spending our time as if it were a gift? Sharing it with someone in need of a friend, rather than a sister who doesn't need another enemy? And why hang out in hotels for a week in some random city, paying thousands of dollars to sing hymns in a hideous, echo-filled exhibition hall?

Fast forward, then, to 2009... wait, we already were in 2009, but looking back further. I still don't understand the plot of Back to the Future. Anyway, here we are. Not here, 2009. Elgin! SO, my story becomes something of a cliche, with the ignorant country boy moving to the city. Only, it's the ignorant Christian boy moving to the brain stem of the Church.

Immediately, I was forced to confront my biases. No longer was the church a faceless institution, an relic from the dark ages, still hell-bent, feeble as it is, on ruining the lives of people it judges unworthy. It was my boss, finding solutions for struggling volunteers, and helping non-profits find the workers they need to keep running. It was the workcamp office, planning service opportunities for hundreds of youths each year, introducing them to an alternative to the mainstream on-demand lifestyle. It was deacon ministries, helping enable members of all of our churches to serve their members.

It started to seem less and less like an insane despot, and more like an insane bunch of humans - broken, yes, and always struggling to serve the overwhelming needs of the church with limited resources. It's easy for me, in desiring to serve the world, to neglect the need for support of the church itself. Gosh, how bad of a Christian am I that only now in reflecting am I reminded of Paul. I bet being put in prison was the only way to make him sit still and write out his plans. It must have been maddening not to be able to visit his friends and see their growth in Christ, and yet somehow it was needed. Think of the wisdom that would have been lost if Paul has spoken in person the words we have in the epistles! The church needs leaders or it faces the danger of fracturing apart over petty arguments. Even today we face difficult questions, and we must find the spirit that unifies us as Christians. We cannot do it without a common faith, a common goal, and the guidance of Christ.

Maybe I still get upset over catering our Christmas lunch, but it's more important to be there with my sisters and brothers than it is to protest something so insignificant in the grand scheme. Perhaps it is blasphemous to mention Mark 14 here, but hear me out. We will always have the poor, and our community does not exist to shut them out, or keep a safe distance away. Then it is good for us to take time to restore ourselves, eat together and sing hymns of praise to our God, if only we follow through after we're finished.

I was most grateful when I learned the importance of the Church, and saw God in the face of each part of it.