Category Archives: Community

The Gift of Character

Frank Capra’s It’s A Wonderful Life has been one of my favorite movies for years.  I make it a practice to watch it every holiday season because I love the message of the movie, Jimmy Stewart (isn’t he just amazing?!) and Christmas.  I also watch it every year because it is one of those movies that each time I see it, I find myself drawn to a different section of the film.  A few years ago I was focused on George’s anger at God as he stood on the bridge.  Last year I was fascinated with the bank run scenes, and the impact of the Great Depression.  This year, I have found myself drawn to one of my all-time favorite scenes in movie making history – the moment where George Bailey tells Mr. Potter “a thing or two” about the meaning behind the Building and Loan Society.

Maybe it’s because of the continuing recession, or because of my own anger at the Mr. Potters’ of the world.  But there is something about this scene – about the moment when George leans forward and tells Mr. Potter about the importance of treating people as human beings – that I just want to get up and cheer!

To me, George is saying something so important here, yet something we can so easily forget.  He’s speaking about knowing – really knowing! – that each of us has value, and that helping each other to live a decent life is important.  That all of us matter in this world, no matter how much or little money you have.  That having character is the greatest gift any of us can bring to the table.

What an awesome Christmas message.

Why Church?

I recently reconnected with someone I used to work with in hospice.  She is a lovely person, and asked me honestly why I had left the field, and moved my professional life from hospice chaplaincy to parish work.

“And why”….she continued  “this church?  A church that’s just beginning?  Why would you do something so unusual?  Don’t you miss hospice?  Isn’t this all planning and program work, and no time really with the people?”

To an extent, she is right.  Parish life, at least restarting a church with the intention of significant growth, is about a lot of planning and development work.  Where I used to spend all my days with people, holding hands and being part of an experience, I am now spending a lot of time writing, talking on the phone, planning and organizing.   I still meet with people, but it is much less frequently, and for very different reasons.

Hospice work is awesome, and I think it’s a program WAY more people should be involved with, both in terms of volunteering and receiving care.  But I have to say, I think the church is awesome too.  The ideas we are working with are just incredibly important.  How do we make a church that is relevant to people’s lives?   Does community really have a purpose, or are we all better off on our own?   What makes church – or any kind of spiritual experience – meaningful?

It matters because none of us can go it alone.

Community of Candy

Last night, we went through eleven bags of candy in two hours.

ELEVEN BAGS.

That’s somewhere in the neighborhood of two hundred pieces of candy. Give or take.

“Wow!” you might be thinking “She lives in a really dense area! There must be tons of kids on her street!” That would be my first thought too, except that I live on my street and know all of the exactly four families with kids who live on our street.

My street has become a “Destination location” for Halloween. None of us are quite sure how we got this reputation – perhaps it’s because the local Walgreens is at the end of the street, or maybe it’s because the family across from us actually dedicates their entire living room to Halloween and gives each trick-or-treater at least a POUND of candy – but we are now the place to be. Starting at 5:30 last night, the cars started to pull up and park, and children who live as far as two miles away begin unloading out of their vehicles to collect the bounty of our street.

My first year in our house, I was annoyed. Where I grew up in Minnesota, you trick-or-treated on your own street, visiting your neighbors and people you knew. The idea of getting in a car to trick or treat totally defeated the purpose to me, and undermined the spirit of a neighborhood Halloween. My second year I was slightly less hostile, but still bewildered by the astonishing influx of kids I have never seen before calmly walking up and down my street, joyfully collecting candy from strangers.

I am now accustomed to the annual pilgrimage to our street, and have come to even grudgingly like the experience. On Halloween, we interact with families and kids we don’t see the rest of the year. We speak to families from South Providence, a nearby area that struggles with poverty and violence, who tell me they like to come to our street because it is safe. We speak to young mothers with their babies, out for the first time, and teenagers who are trick-or-treating before a big dance. There are people from literally everywhere at my door, and suddenly, I have the chance to interact with people who are not in my everyday life, but who are part of my community, who I pass on the street, and who are in the city I call home. Despite the two hundred rings of the doorbell, and constant barking of our dog, Kayla, I actually enjoyed last night. It was great to feel as though I was part of something bigger than myself – a community I didn’t even realize was out there.