by tashmcgill | Dec 1, 2015 | Community, Culture & Ideas, Friendship, Relationships
A year ago and a week ago, I passed under this bridge in a traffic jam, stuck again on Interstate 65. This piece of highway is a constant in my life as I travel between places and people I know.
I was stuck metaphorically too, stuck in a dream of a dream. The bridge is just a symbol, a lot of water has passed under this bridge since then. 372 days that see me further from one dream but closer to another. I don’t know what that dream is, but it must be a dream because it’s not yet real.
I think I must have grown up some but there’s a post-it note stuck to my computer screen that says “Everything I ever let go of had claw marks in it”, and it’s certainly true for me. I can feel the tingling in my fingertips. How much I want to hold to something, for something to be as permanent or certain as this bridge. I want to held on to; to be permanent and certain myself.
I’ve been learning you can’t hold on to what’s not real or permanent. You can’t hold on to what’s not holding you. Lorem Ipsum has no permanent home, just like a pipiwhararoa it flies from nest to nest looking for a place to call its own. No one holds on to Lorem Ipsum either.
Lorem Ipsum.
You probably recognize the phrase. If you’ve ever worked in design, printing, had to produce marketing materials or a website there’s a good chance you’ve seen this text. It’s ancient Latin from “de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum” (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book on the theory of ethics was popular with emerging humanist thinkers during the Renaissance so as printing technology emerged during this era, it’s no surprise that a collection of paragraphs from this text was used as dummy text to review typefaces.
Placeholder text is designed to look close enough to the real thing that it becomes invisible to the viewer. Originally so that a printer and publisher might agree the layout of the text or the choice of typeface on a page. Now, Lorem Ipsum is often used to fill out the design frames and suggest where text is required in marketing collateral and digital publishing.
A placeholder is used to fill space but leave no lasting impression. It looks and feels real but carries no meaning. It is yet it does not endure. Lorem Ipsum has survived for 5 centuries now only ever being useful for a moment, to fill the space before it is replaced.
I am not Lorem Ipsum, neither are you.
It’s a shame that some things you only learn after the fact. You learn the rock is slippery as soon as your foot starts sliding. You realise you’ve been Lorem Ipsum when someone starts seeing straight past you. You realise you’ve had all the good intentions in the world, but your friendship has carried no meaning, your words have floated off like feathers in the sky. When Lorem Ipsum is replaced with words you attribute meaning to – you no longer need the Lorem Ipsum.
I love words. And these words meant something to Cicero, to the great Renaissance philosophers and ethicists. Sentences constructed with intention just like I have been made with a meaning greater than the sum of my syllables – Lorem Ipsum is the real thing, not a dream. You have forgotten that I once, had meaning too.
Lorem Ipsum in the Debris.
I do believe some relationships are seasonal. And especially friendship can be deceptive, appearing mutual when both parties have different expectations and agendas. My shared stories and experiences create a narrative that we all own, my stories shared become your own and vice versa. We give meaning to each other but only if we mean it.
But no person should ever be Lorem Ipsum for another. We must be able to look each other in the eye and keep our promises – I see you, you can see me. If we treat each other like placeholders til something better comes along – we strip meaning from beauty and destroy our shared narratives. We destroy each other and ourselves.
Yes, we do this from time to time – we fill our world with those who are available to us although they do not always fulfil us. We allow ourselves to feel useful and meaningful. Of course, we do this because loneliness is a hungry wolf at the door. But once we start to feed the wolf on hollow bread, we cannot keep him from the door. Resist. Resist. Commit yourself to the meaning of those you share your stories with. And therefore choose carefully whom you love.
There is a shallow darkness in anyone that can live in such a way, to not know the ancient, wise, tenacious gift they hold in the palm of their hand. It implies an unknowing of themselves, because authenticity demands authenticity.
The storm change comes along and swept up in the river swell you become the debris on the bank. The difference between a seasonal transition in relationships and being Lorem Ipsum, is acknowledgement of the season change, thank you and goodbye. Without it, gasping for air and wondering how you missed the signs, you shirk off your sinking expectations and swim for shore.
Of course, you can choose not to become the debris. We all get caught out from time to time; not realising that while we laid out our words in perfect syntax, our Latin went unrecognised by the other. For being fooled into thinking my narrative was true, I have learned even more what authenticity looks like. I’ve realised even though people can hurt you by treating you like a spacefiller – I can free myself in a minute by letting go.
Choose not to hold on to people who don’t want to hold you back. Workplace comraderie, friendship on any scale, lovers, distant family – choose not to hold on to anything but the present moment and those who are willing to hold you. Even then, choose wisely from those who would hold your precious meaning in their hands. Letting go can feel like losing something until you remember the best thing you had in that friendship was what you made it, with your heart, your compassion, your love and soul. Even your hopes and expectations of the other were a good kind of dream. So you walk away losing nothing, because you still have yourself. You are the carrier of your meaning.
You have your purpose, becoming clearer in the days and by dream at night, a new old kind of dream. Instead of fighting the current below the bridge, you are now given the chance to cross it; a change in every direction – first up, then East instead of South and with a much larger view to the world. Remember your meaning.
You are a gift to the world, often unopened by many who drift by you but still valuable. An ancient treasure hidden in a field, a pearl inside a gnarly shell, a fragment of beauty that does not fade, an eternal force more precious than rubies. Your meaning is not taken from you by those who do not comprehend you. Perhaps they have not imagined you yet but still you are.
Cicero’s Lorem Ipsum (a fragment).
“But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?”
“On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain. These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammelled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains.”
by tashmcgill | Nov 30, 2015 | Community, Friendship, Relationships
You love fewer people than you think you do. And, if you need permission to care less diligently about some, in order to love others better – this is it. Feel free to hit delete.
I mean, of course, you’re kind and warm, welcoming and enthusiastic about lots of people when you encounter them in the street or with mutual friends. You’re never not gracious and friendly; making small talk while circulating the room. You listen to stories and remember to think good thoughts for those who are suffering and say a prayer if you are so inclined.
So, yes – you do care about people, in a general way of speaking. You care, in a general, non-practitioner sense. You care with the capacity that you have. You pay attention to your Facebook news feed. But you do not really love that many specific people.
Read that sentence twice. Follow the emphasis.
You do not really love that many specific, individual people.
You do not really love that many specific, individual people.
And that’s ok. In fact, it’s probably good for you. Indeed, I’m giving you permission, I’m asking you to consider loving fewer people, better. Let Love take on a heavier, more intentional meaning than when you talk about ice-cream or potato chips.
Our world is saturated with connection that lacks intimacy. Week after week, people tell me how brave and vulnerable I must be to write how I do on this blog or in social media. I share my reflections on an inner life and strangers halfway around the world are moved. I am moved because they are. I feel a sense of purpose in creating meaning for others. But I am not the meaning.
You see, I care about the people who read and engage with my words. I care that they are well, moving towards wholeness, being themselves, discovering bravery in intimacy and courage to use their own voices. I care, but I do not love you.
That’s ok. You shouldn’t need me to love you and you probably don’t. But some of us – the only care we receive is what comes back through those social media filters.
I can only truly love maybe 20 people or so. There are another 30 or so I love very much. There are another 30 – 40 beyond that I would feel their absence keenly from my world and be rocked by their tragedies. But I am an anomaly and almost none of those people experience my love through social media.
Most people only have room for 6 – 8 significant intimate connections outside their immediate family. That’s how many people you can truly love, engage and maintain intimacy with. I have a small family, I figure I get some extra numbers. I’m an extrovert, a writer and speaker. Part of my job is to connect with people. It’s almost effortless to collect people along the way and genuinely care about those interactions and outcomes. In the moment, when you’re there. And conceptually, afterward – even for a long time.
Anyone who lives in the present moment will find themselves well-connected to all manner of people; because we are able to give and receive in the moment of ourselves and others.
That’s life-giving, fulfilling and beautiful. It is the nature of Love when we are swept up in its outpouring to engage with others. It may be intimate for a moment but it is not lifelong.
With the exception of marriage (I still believe), our relationships are permitted to be seasonal. Not every fleeting connection was meant to last forever, but nowadays we accumulate relationships the same way people collect baseball cards. There’s always room for one more and always a new player joining the team. How are we ever meant to figure out the rules of engagement for every connection we make? How are we ever to find the time or the energy for all these connections.
Don’t get me wrong. Caring for people is great. Whenever you are able, care for someone. Caring is good and creates emotional connection, but Love will demand action too. We need to pare back our tribes so we can really care. To go deep again, not wide.
Love turns up in the middle of the night to a three word text message. Love is often invisible on Facebook, as a friend of mine reminded me. Caring for someone can happen in a moment; Love that follows through every promise grows over time. It’s a different kind of investment. You will learn this in the cruelest way when you realise someone you thought loved you, only cared. Then you will know what it is; to need to know the difference in how you love and how you are loved.
Loving some people and caring for others is kinda healthy. The ability to make connections deeper than Sunday coffee conversations and the ability to prioritize where you invest. More than checking Facebook status updates.
The trouble with navigating relationships in a world dominated by constant connection with people through social media, text and email – is that sometimes the ones you truly love are not the ones that dominate your time or your filters. Sometimes people get waylaid in their expectations and they want more Love than Care.
They forget that a Facebook or Instagram like
is not as weighty as a text message
which is not as weighty as an email
which is not as weighty as a phone call
and is not as weighty as your physical presence
when it comes to Love
because Love will always come with action.
Caring is enough, if caring is what I have to offer. But caring cannot get in the way of Love.
Hit Delete.
Facebook is an audience. A collection of people whom we’ve connected with. But my people, the people I love find themselves around my fireplace. The people I love eat my food. Still, the pressure builds to stay on top of triumph and tragedy through words and pictures on a dozen different channels. We love knowledge and some (most) are naturally curious. We love to discover what’s hidden or unknown. But a hundred connections that love real love and intimacy will never equate to the truth and power of being really known by a friend you love. Who hopefully loves you back. Those are sacred spaces, so you can’t have them or share them with all those people. No one has enough spirit for that. Except maybe Oprah. And even then, not even Oprah. She knows.
The power of real intimacy with a real person in comparison to the influence and energy of an audience. Neither is better, but they have different purposes and meaning in our lives.
So maybe you need permission to let some people go. To hit delete from your Facebook friends list, or eliminate the noise from people you care about to focus on the people you love. Delete pointless contacts from your phone. If you’ll never call them, don’t keep their number. Filter out the needless information and curiosities that fill up your day/mind/thoughts and open your spirit again to deep Love. If you are really brave, filter your little black book of calendar engagements too.
Delete me, if you need to. I get it. I care about you too and I want you to do a better job of loving the ones you Love. I want the same thing. You’ve got permission to gather yourself back from the hundreds of little connections draining your battery and making obstacles for true love.
by tashmcgill | Jan 3, 2015 | Community, Leadership, Youth Work
I have this running joke with a couple of teenagers I work with. They are daughters of dear friends of mine but also in my youth work circles. Sometimes they come and hang out on the weekends because we’re doing youthwork-y things and sometimes just because I’m offering caregiver duties to parents stretched thin. Either way, we joke fondly about my role as a Weekend Mom.
These girls, and so many others that I am lucky enough to spend time with have become my ‘kids’. It’s a term of endearment for me, although other youthworkers I respect dislike the terminology. I get that, I really do but there are some young people who transcend my ‘regularly scheduled youth work’ relationships and become part of the fabric of life.
What It Heals In Us.
Often, I will tell my friends how grateful I am for the opportunity to express something of a communal motherhood in the role they let me play in their children’s lives. It is a gift to be trusted to walk alongside young people, particularly when they are the children of other wise, gracious and experienced youthworkers and teachers! I get to play mom when parents go away or even take them on holiday with me. We share in one another’s lives, even birthday parties and school events.
“The first third of your life is about learning, the next third is earning and the last third of your life is about returning.”
A wise friend shared this saying with me many years ago. I’ve learned the parts are not chronological. We never finish learning, therefore are constantly earning and we ought to, as soon as we have anything of worth, start to return investment back into our communities. So it heals something in all of us (the question of self-worth) when we discover we have something worth returning, worth giving back.
It’s what keeps me coming back to youthwork and investing in people, over and over again.
The Gift Of Being A Youthworker In Your 30s.
By the time you’re doing youthwork in your 30s, things are probably (hopefully?) a little different to when you were at college or barely out of school yourself. It’s slightly different too, if you are single. You have capacity, a different set of resources to invest as well as a few more freedoms than others may have. The other great thing about being a youthworker in your 30s, are the young people who have graduated and become friends. They offer plenty of input as to what was helpful to them and not so.
1. Experience counts for something.
I don’t believe that the longer you are around, the better youthworker you are. Being a good youthworker has to do with learning, practicing, listening and being committed to developing your leadership and skills. A graduating youth worker can be just as impactful as a long-timer, but likely in very different ways than a youthworker who has invested years in learning about adolescent development and the challenges that young people face.
For starters, hopefully you’ve had the chance to read, converse and grasp hold of learning opportunities when they come your way. I’ve been lucky enough to find a few mentors (and friends) who have expanded my practice, my understanding and my abilities.
2. Youthwork is an intentional lifestyle choice.
Lots of young adults get involved in youth work because it’s an opportunity to meet and work alongside other young adults. It’s also something of a common practice for young adults who have grown up in youth groups to graduate and work within those youth groups too. When you’re in your late 20s and 30s, regardless of whether you are a fulltime youthworker or a volunteer, youthwork has become an intentional lifestyle choice. You already know the cost of weekends, evenings, extra gas mileage and the impact on your social life and family. There’s likely to be more of a gap between your personal life and your youthwork than there was when you were younger, probably more consideration of balance between the two as well.
3. Resource is probably a little easier to come by.
Having a group of teenage girls over on a weekend afternoon is a lot easier now that I’m older, live with fewer people and run my household. I have space that I can easily make available to young people, young adults and other youth workers to meet, spend time, eat and generally feel at home. A big part of my Weekend Mom routine comes from the reality of welcoming young people into my home. They come and eat, make food, laze about on the couch and know the Wi-Fi password. Extra gas money, a few extra dollars for snacks and activities are all far easier to come by now. It’s no big deal to take them camping for a weekend, when I used to spend enormous amounts of time budgeting for such days.
4. Your role can be Mentor/Friend/Aunty/Mom.
It’s challenging for a twenty year old to play more than one or two roles as youthworker. Even as a twenty five year old, there’s still so much learning about your own ideas of being friend, mentor, caregiver to be done and rarely can you step into the wisdom and security of a parenting role. Mentorship changes over time. It can be instructional, simply learning how to be in certain ways. It can be a devoted do-as-I-do discipline. Or it can be more ancient – the practice of encouraging someone in how to think their way through problems and questions. The joy of being a Weekend Mom, as well as youthworker, mentor and friend – is the way those questions come about.
5. You know when to stay calm and when to escalate.
We all know that not every youthful crisis is actually a crisis. But you have to learn to read the signs carefully, because the younger you are the closer to those same heightened emotions and new experiences you are. That’s potentially controversial, but I find it anecdotally to be true. What seemed overwhelming as a twenty-something youthworker feels very approachable and manageable today.
Something We Should Always Do.
That’s it – the gift of being able to return something from how we are constantly learning and then what we earn. It’s not just money, but wisdom, experience and the capacity for grace and generosity. We should be returning it back into people as soon as we grasp hold of it. So I think, that after years of wondering and questioning if I am done with youthwork and years of trying to figure out how to do it well – I’ve settled on it. There are young people and families who have chosen me as their youthworker and at times, a Weekend Mom. What a joy, what a healing experience – that I’ve grown into someone who has something to offer beyond my youthful exuberance.
by tashmcgill | Dec 30, 2014 | Bodies, Community, Culture & Ideas, Friendship, Mind, Relationships
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
There is family; whom you cannot choose and there is fraternity – the brothers and sisters you do choose.
Do I value friendship over all other things? Yes. Friendship – true, complete companionship outlasts all. Friendship is the root of love. You depend on your friend, but you are not dependent on him. It is in friendship that we learn to see someone fully as they are, we learn how to live with the differences between us and remain loyal regardless. We learn to see the truth of people rather than our ideal of them. Friendship will outlast romance, marriages, the birth and death of children, the death and decay of lovers, career changes. Friendship is a paradox – to hold another so close in your heart yet not be dependent entirely on them in the same way we need a spouse. Friendship spans continents and endures the years.
We live in a complex culture, hindered by lack of inhibition yet a proliferation of obstacles to true friendship between men and women. But if we are to navigate this complex culture, we must do with the art of friendship high in our priority. Not just friendship between like of our like, but friendship between the genders (and transgender). More than ever, men and women need to understand one another and engage with each other in meaningful ways outside the limitations of potential partnership and sexual liaison. (more…)
by tashmcgill | Dec 9, 2014 | Community, Leadership, Spirituality
It’s rare that I would choose to comment on current news in this forum. But I will today, because the last 48 hours or so have been truly abhorrent. When my friend David Hayward posted a supportive Facebook comment regarding Jim Marjoram this evening, it confirmed my conviction that this is worth taking a stance on. The reason why I’m writing about this? I’ve seen many pastors and friends post Facebook updates of sympathy, compassion and outrage but not address some of the underlying issues with the occurences of the last few days. But the most unreasonable thing has gone unnoticed, without comment from so many. Of 400 opportunities, only 1 voice responded and was heard. That voice was an embarrassment, a reminder of a broken humanity. Why so silent, 399? Why so quient? It’s easy to be outraged when somebody says something nonsensical, but the other, more justifiable atrocity is right under our noses and nobody has said a thing.
Here’s the short version of what’s happened to date:
- Jim Marjoram is a courageous man, trying to walk a reconciled life between his sexuality and a fundamental religion that would often rather not deal with him
- He wrote a book, called ‘It’s Life, Jim’
- His story deserves honour and attention
- He emailed details of the book to about 400 churches in NZ
- He got one response, that I won’t repeat here
- His courage and bravery should never have been treated with such disdain
- It’s a tragedy that this was the only response received from the broader Christian community
- This is absolutely not the ideal marketing solution
There are many Christians and people of faith who have been outraged in recent days by the words and actions of the self-proclaimed pastor of a church called Westcity Bible Baptist Church in Auckland, New Zealand. You can read more from media outlets about the story here and here.
Update: One of the most important points I want to make is that there is a lack of strategy in how this email came out, which means that the Church needs to think carefully and well about how to respond, so that the current voice is not the only voice heard. A number of Christian leaders have responded to Jim personally, as well as reaching out to Logan Robertson. Bravo. The Baptist Church of New Zealand has made an official statement – which I commend.
Here’s the summary. Jim is gay and Christian. He’s been both activist and grace demonstrator over the years that I have known of him, his activities and his relationships with many that I respect and love. He recently published a book that ought to be embraced with open arms by the mainstream Church – his story of being both gay and Christian. You can purchase it here and you should, because these stories are important and should be honoured. His story is one of trying to find reconciliation between sexuality and spirituality, two aspects of humanity that should rarely be separated.
Jim sent an email promoting the book to churches in New Zealand to support the release. He received one response: an independent, fundamentalist pastor who stated his desire that the author would commit suicide. When interviewed by news media, Pastor Logan Robertson reported that although not something he would want to do, he believed the Government should put homosexuals to death.
Not affiliated with the Baptist Union of New Zealand (an organisation with which I have been and remain an advocate); this person has managed to unveil a number of crucial lessons that all reasonable human beings ought to consider.
Here’s the frustration for me.
Lesson #1. For the Church – Did No One Pay Attention?
Are you freaking kidding me that this was the only response Jim received? 400 churches on the email list and no one had the presence of mind, the compassion or even the good conscience to reply to his email? Granted, I can’t speak for the elapsed time between when the email was sent and the ‘nil reply’ measure given, nor the quality of the list (I’ll come back to that) – but when the voice of Christianity is left in the hands of the minority, there is little ground to stand on for people to be horrified. I am deeply appalled that at a time when we ought to be able to embrace these stories with grace, compassion and interest – it appears there was no room at the inn for Jim’s story. A crushing blow, in the Advent season. There is no blame to be placed at the feet of the media for giving attention to the story, the worst part is that Logan Robertson’s voice was the only one to respond. In defence; many pastors receive hundreds of emails a week promoting a variety of Christian books, products and services. It’s very probable that many did not read the email. This does relate to the next point, regarding strategy.
Lesson #2. For Marketers – Did No One Check The List?
This will be highly impolitic to say, however, this appears to be appalling marketing practice. If a blanket email inbox dump is your best strategy, then it comes as no surprise that a unvetted, unchecked email list created such controversy. There’s a lesson in this for all would-be and professional marketers – when you’re dealing with a bespoke and important message, you better have a clear idea about who and where you’re sending that message. I wish that I’d had the chance to work with Jim on the strategy around the book release, because common sense rationalises the risk of sending unsolicited direct email to anybody, let alone regarding a topic bound to send chills down the spine of an Independent Baptist. Sound direct marketing and email marketing principles exist for a reason as aptly demonstrated by the complete mismatch of audience and message here. Whilst this might seem like trivialization, it’s really not because people are guilty of this kind of negligence every day. Regardless of what minor side benefit might be gained from the publicity in current form, the message of the book is now tainted with an altogether different message.
Lesson #3. For Activists – Don’t Stop Being Brave.
Realistically speaking, there is every chance that Jim’s book and his story may have largely passed under the radar of the average New Zealand Christian or the average New Zealand gay person. I’m really glad that this story made a way to the front page news because it matters that we stop tolerating this. I’m relieved to hear and see other Christian leaders publicly admonishing this young man because it matters so much, that the rest of NZ society understands we don’t share a single view on this. I’m also sad for Logan, because this kind of public statement is extraordinarily hard to recover from with an equal sense of public humiliation. We need people like Jim and others I know, who are brave enough to take these first steps to say publicly, ‘I will be both gay and Christian’, in order to educate, prove and disprove the lingering questions that may exist. That is activism – to prove something with your own life.
A Challenge In Conclusion
Believe what you will about sexuality and it’s expression alongside spirituality. My stand is simple. If you are remotely sympathetic to the Christian faith and you haven’t worked out which side of this story you would choose to stand on, you’ve got some stuff to work out. I’ll happily have those conversations with you – but there is no space in any kind of Gospel story or values I know that has room for the bigotry and hatred demonstrated in this man’s words over the last few days.
If you are a Christian, particularly if you are a leader in a Christian community – I challenge you to do more than simply express your sympathy or your shame in a Facebook post or a tweet. Engage your people in the conversation about restoring grace and humanity to those whose spirituality has been somehow overshadowed by their sexuality. Do more than give words.
Lastly; if you or someone you know is experiencing a sense of displacement or confusion in their faith or relationship with faith communities – may I recommend thelastsupper.com to you? You’ll find a community of people who are welcoming, vulnerable and honest. You’ll also find a leader and pastor in David, who is compassionate and remarkable.
by tashmcgill | Oct 14, 2014 | Church, Community, Culture & Ideas, Leadership
We live in a world where the contemporary sacred longs to be relevant and connected to the secular. In rural and small towns, this connection is easier to build in meaningful ways. In urban centres and sprawling cities, there is one resource that the church has in spades, that could revolutionise the way churches contribute to communities and cities.
What is that precious resource? Space. It is the one commodity that urban centres long for and churches have an abundance of.
If the broader contribution of the church to human civilisation is to patron the arts, then more of our spaces should be devoted to sharing space. Opening up space. People in cities and urban spaces are constantly constrained from pursuing their gifts, talents, business endeavours because urban space is so expensive and hard to access. Shared spaces and hotdesking in virtual offices is on the increase but what if the Church, in all those prime city and city fringe locations opened it’s doors to people who need space.
I don’t mean leasing our space either. I mean opening up the doors of our buildings in prime central real estate that often sit half unused and pouring that resource back into the communities that are longing for it. For the small and medium sized businesses that are in start-up mode, where every penny they can save on overheads can go into smarter and better products and services. Into innovation and invention.
We should splatter the walls of our cathedrals with the acrylics and plaster of our artists, sculpting, painting and making in the vast caverns of space that we devote to holy emptiness.
We should fill those spaces with good works. The works of hands and minds. There should be no caveat of Christian belonging either. Just being human ought to be enough to make use of the resources we provide – free internet, hot water, meeting rooms and desk space. Studio space. Creating and making space. So what if our bills go up slightly and we have to vaccuum more often? Think about the relationships we could build. Who cares if occasionally people take advantage? Think about the ones who won’t.
The point I’m making is that the Church mets week on week and searches for ways to be meaningful and build bridges into communities and cities in ways that contribute to broader society – when the easiest thing we could do is remember what the preciousness of our sanctuaries and spaces is all about. People.
I frequently recall the words of Mike Yaconelli, who wrote about the necessity of stained carpet. We worry so much about the straight lines and cleanliness in our welcoming space but there is an authencity to stains on the carpet and on the walls that says ‘humanity is welcome here’.
Humanity with all it’s mess and creativity. Our sanctuaries and buildings were always meant to be for people. Filled with people, resourcing people, providing help and shelter for people. Providing opportunity and support for people.
The Church often gets confused into thinking that in order to be meaningful it must be us that does the work. That the work must be of our hands. But often the greatest impact is had simply in what we can facilitate. What opportunities we create for others by our being.
A year ago and a week ago, I passed under this bridge in a traffic jam, stuck again on Interstate 65. This piece of highway is a constant in my life as I travel between places and people I know.