Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven
All the times I thought to reach up
All the times I had to give
Babies underneath their beds
Hospitals that cannot treat all the wounds that money causes,
All the comforts of cathedrals
All the cries of thirsty children – this is our inheritance
All the rage of watching mothers – this is our greatest offense

Oh my God
Oh my God
Oh my God

It’s 10:30 on a thursday evening.  I lock up the building, grab my bike and head home after a long day at the Underground (the church were I am currently an intern). 

Some would say my ride home is dangerous, but I say its beautiful.  The best view of Downtown Tampa is on my way home and you can only see it if you are walking or riding a bike.  If you are driving it goes by too fast to get a glimpse.  It reminds me to slow down and find the beauty in the part of Tampa that most people avoid.

As I make my turn and ride down Nebraska Avenue I see a police car at a funeral home.  Making things safer, I suppose…

As I continue my ride home I see a cop make a u-turn and park on the sidewalk about ten feet in front of me.  As I get closer it dawns upon me that the cop at the funeral home must of called another officer to stop me right when I get next to the car, the door opens and a young cop steps out and says, “hold on right there for a minute, sir.” 

I stop put my bike down and wonder what I did wrong. 

“Where is your light?,” the officer asks.” 

“I don’t have one.” I reply. 

“Well did you know you need a light to ride at night?” 

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well, I will just give you a warning, then, because you didn’t know.”

“Okay.”

“But, I need to run your I.D. to make sure you don’t have a warrant.”

“Okay.”

At this point, I realize what is going on here…I’m white with dreadlocks, backpack on my back, in a poor black neighborhood.  Anger rages inside of me and as the officer runs my I.D. I think about clever smart remarks I can make to this young officer.  (“By the way, I’m coming home from a church that cares about the poor, not just locks them up and I go to one of the top Universities in the world wanna see that I.D.” came to mind).

But, I didn’t say anything…I grabbed my I.D. and rode home.

It felt like the longest bike ride home ever.  I felt hopeless. 

Should I have fought this blatant stereotyping?

Should I have demanded justice?

What is right here?  Where is love? Where is grace?  Where is truth and beauty? 

All I see is hate.  All I see is anger.  All I see is someone trying to hastle someone trying to ride their bike home.

So, I have been watching this french film called “Hate” and it is about riots in the Parisian Slum areas during the early 90′s.  It is from the point of view of the poor youth who are extremely violent to the police officers they call “pigs.”  What is fascinating from this film is the main character Vinz.  He is filled with anger and longs for the opportunity to kill a “pig” because of the way they treat the poor in the slum.  Early in the movie we discover that Vinz has stolen a gun and is waiting for the opportune moment to strike whenever a police officer wrongs him or another again.  One point in the movie, they end up in one of the wealthiest parts of paris where the officers are incredibly respectful…a lot different from the cops in the poor area.  But Vinz doesn’t care.  He only wants one more cop to mess with him and he will get his revenge.  Vinz trusts that violence will solve the wrongs done to him…

We feel like that sometimes, don’t we?  When someone wrongs us we want to wrong them back.  We want to give them what they deserve.  We want justice through revenge.

The next day my friend Will and I were giving a ride to our friend “Mama” who lives at the house that I’m at this summer.  Mama has lived on the street for a long time, so I decide to tell her what happened and she replied with these words…

“Baby, don’t let that get you down.  These cops out right now are the new rookies trying to get some credibility.  That young man was looking for a fight.  What you gotta do, is just be polite and and respectful.  They are looking to get some credit on their record for picking up people and he probably thought you were an easy target.  Don’t forget Baby, you “won” now.  There wasn’t any warrant and he had to let you go.  Please don’t let that get you down.  You just need to keep on doing what you are doing and you will be just fine.”

Mama was a poet to me in that moment.  She gave me words that put everything in perspective.  That is what poets do, don’t they?  They give us a perspective that we would not normally see.

Poets never look for ways to get someone back.

Poets inspire.  Poets share.  Poets give.  

Mama may be a former drug addict, but she is my poet.  She is my teacher… 

Mama teaches me that we win…

Through Love and Compassion. 

Through Understanding and Seeing.

Through Grace and Mercy.

Through Beauty and Openess.

Mama captures me because of her grace and compassion to this young officer not her anger and frustration. 

Mama taught me that we win because Love always wins.

Justice is never gained through revenge.  It is only gained through love.  The fact that the officer knew that I live in and care about this neighborhood has to be good enough for me. 

I didn’t give that officer what he wanted, but I have to hope that I gave him something  more…this is the only way love will finally win.

You thought you might be a ghost.

You didn’t get to heaven, but you made it close.

“After my experiences with Christians I’m really surprised that I’m still one.” 

I said these words to my friend Craig a couple of weeks ago and it has haunted me ever since. I think I have a distrust and suspiscion for Christians because I have been hurt way too many times.  There is always an agenda for love.  “If you do this then we can love you.” 

I have never had the best experiences with Christians and sometimes would much rather hang out with non-Christians.  My whole life Christians have brought me down.  It was as if I was in a pool, drowning and as I was trying to swim up to catch my breath someone would jump on me and bring me back down to the bottom of the pool desperate for air.

But, then there is this Christ.  This Jesus that loves those who Christians do not love. 

The Jesus that pulls you up out of the pool to the air that you desperately long for. 

The Jesus that cares for the poor and the unlovable.

The Jesus that gives you an identity that no one can take away.

The Jesus that continually teaches me what beauty is, what life means and what truth can be.

But, I’m lucky not to have lost this Jesus…

I don’t know why people act the way they do and I don’t know how to get rid of the pain that Christians in the past have inflicted upon me and the grudge that I hold against them, but I do know that through this pain there has been joy and through this darkness I can still see the light.

I can see the beauty of this life.

I can see the wonder and awe of the world.

I can also see the intrigue of living a life following this Christ and I just can’t get away.  It is just that beautiful…

So, I was eating lunch with my friend Greg a couple of weeks ago when he explains to me that he found a camera earlier that day.  Greg lives in the woods in Chapel Hill and he immediately tried to sell it to me.  Greg and I have a good relationship so I told him that he should keep it and take pictures throughout the week.  My promise was that I would get his pictures developed and buy him some new film the following week…

Creativity is beautiful…

Creating God’s first Act…

We are “created” in God’s Image…

Our humanity is centered on the fact that we can create.  When we take away someone’s opportunity to create we take away their humanity.  This is taking the one thing that makes someone human, the one thing that brings someone dignity and the one thing that brings someone a sense of worth and purpose.

When we give people a way to create, we are restoring their dignity.  God created us to create…

Why is it that we find so much joy when we create?  Why do we find so much joy in art and music and literature? 

Think about your favorite music or your favorite artist…

Think about your favorite hobbies…

Think about your favorite books…

We find so much joy in creating and seeing other people create because we were made to do so.  It is integral to who we are as humans.  To create is to show our humanity and our ability to give beauty to our Creator and to others. 

Without our ability to create we lose our identity.  We become lost.  We become blinded.  We lose hope.  We lose Joy. We lose everything…

But, what would happen if a community gathered together and said we have had enough?  What if we decided to give back the ability to create to those who have lost everything…to those who are outcasts…to those who have no identity…to those without hope…

I wish you could see the excitement in Greg’s eyes when I told him I would have the pictures he took developed by the next Wednesday.  I wish you could see the excitement in my eyes to see the art that Greg was able to create. 

Create, create, create…it is what we were made to do…

Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order. – Virginia Woolf

Life is trying things to see if they work.- Ray Bradbury

The world is but a canvas to the imagination.- Henry David Thoreau

It is better to create than to be learned, creating is the true essence of life.-Barthold Georg Niebuhr

Never take a person’s diginity: it is worth everything to them, and nothing to you.- Frank Barron

Why have we decided that someones worth is determined by how useful they are?  It is as if we have turned the word love into the word useful…

It is no coincidence that when someone in our society is not useful we ignore, institutionalize or abandon those who we have no use for. 

In The Other Journal, Daniel J. Salinas  speaks of a time when his daughter, who was physically and mentally challenged, passed away and the pain he felt from the words of others.  He says at one point, “There must have been two options: “God heals her, or God takes her away.  I had people coming up to me saying, “She was better off now….”

He goes on to say, “Evidently, If anyone, like our daughter, for example, cannot produce, her life is meaningless, worthless.”

How many times do we think this way?  Unfortunately, I can count quite a few, for me.  We call people projects, clients or quick fixes without loving the unloved.  When will it be enough to love someone because they need love.  Why do we always bring an agenda to the table?

It pains me to see people that honestly believe that usefulness is the key to life.  I have a friend who is homeless and an alcoholic.  This friend left town recently and I have missed him.  My friend has been without love his whole life.  There is a local pastor in the area who built a relationship with my friend and my friend use to call him when he was very very drunk.  One night, the pastor had enough and took him to a treatment facility.  Yes, I believe that we need to help our friends when they are in need, but what the pastor told him is unbearable to think about.  He said to my friend, “If you don’t stay in this treatment facility then I am not helping you anymore.”  I equate this to, “If you don’t get better I am not going to love you anymore.”  My friend left three hours later……….

What has Love become?

That is not how love works…..we need to love until it hurts……no matter what.

“How can I love this person” is replaced with “How can I fix this person.”

“How can I serve this person” is replaced by “How can I get this person to contribute to society.”

They become bad “cases” instead of people who need love.

Nobody likes to be a charity case……

When will we be able to sit at the table and break bread with whoever will come?

When we look at someone what do we immediately think? 

Is it “that person is useless” or is it “that person is love.”

This is what Salinas has to say about his daughter whom people had made it very clear that she was better off dead:

“She was a bearer of God’s image, and that was more than enough reason to have lived.”

What does it look like to love those who are not useful?  Those who do not contribute to society?  Those who do not produce?  What does it look like to love those whom nobody else does?

Love…….What has it become?

My heart is in motion, for the song inside you……..

“I gave up Lint for Lent!”  These are the words of my best bud Dave who, honestly, is one of the most thought provoking people that I have ever been around.  There is not doubt that he can give the funniest most challenging comments of anyone I know.

He said this, jokingly, during a conversation about what some of us gave up for lent.  Because, honestly, we Christians talk about what we gave up during lent all of the time.  But, is that what lent is about?  Is lent about giving things up like chocolate and facebook?  Why do we have this constant obsession with giving up things and talking about it?  What the hell is lent really about?????????

Let’s start with me…….because I’m bad at this lent game.

Last year I gave up two things.  I gave up my bed (so I slept on the floor) and I gave up meat (including seafood).  Wow…….wasn’t I a good lent giver-uper……..

Well, not exactly.  Here is my confession…..

I longed for people to ask me what I gave up.  Why?  Because I could tell them what I gave up.  Pathetic, eh?  Ya, tell me about it.  Well, as you can probably tell, that lent did not exactly teach me much.  So, maybe I learned some discipline, but in the big scheme of things lent was about me and how much better I was than everyone else.  This is not lent, this is arrogance at its finest.

I secretly wanted people to ask…..still gets me every time I think about it.

But, honestly this is what we are taught about lent. Lent is a time when I give up something so that I can defeat my wants. 

So, I have tried not to talk about lent this time.  Yes, I gave up something, but it is more about what new things I am seeing……

Because lent is more than just giving something up.  It is a time to see the world in a whole new way–a radical way that reveals God putting it back together in the midst of our brokeness.

Lent is about re ordering our lives around God, instead of ourselves.  It is not about giving up things so that we can feel good that we accomplished something.  It is about entering into God’s story so that we can see the wonderful, beautiful things that are happening.

If it is about us, we might as well just give up Lint for Lent.

I used to hate when we had company over to our house becaus that meant one thing…….we had to clean.  Why?  I would ask.  Why do we need to clean for people to come over? 

My Mom always wanted the house to look neat and tidy for our guest.  I mean, who doesn’t?  She wanted to be hospitable to our guests…there isn’t anything wrong with that, is there?

This way to think about hospitality has been ingrained in me.  Hospitality has meant………”try and look the best you can for people when they enter into your lives and give them things they need.”  But, is this real hospitality?  Is hospitality really trying to create an image of providing goods and services?

My friend A.J. defines hospitality as “welcoming the stranger.”  This form of hospitality is defined by entering into the lives of other people who are different from me. 

I am slowly figuring out that hospitality is less about doing things for guests and more about entering the lives of people who are strangers to me. 

I have this problem…….its called the “I want to help people” problem.  The reason I call this a problem is not because it is bad to help people, but because sometimes I care more about what I can do for somebody than who that somebody is. 

A good example of this is “feeding the homeless.”  Our first inclination is always, “someone is hungry, we need to feed them.”  But, this is not hospitality.  This is not welcoming the stranger.  This is providing a good.  When I think like this, I am treating the person as a project to be solved instead of a person to build a relationship with.  This is why the “sharing of a meal” is so important.  When you “share a meal” you are entering the life of the other person.  This is welcoming the stranger.

It is time for us start entering into the lives of one another instead of making projects out of one another.  This is real hospitality.

The first time I saw hospitality of this sort was in a chemotherapy treatment facility. 

When my mom was battling cancer I would often go to chemotherapy with her.  It took hours so we had a chance sit and talk about all sorts of things. 

In this facility there was about 25 chairs and patients were constantly going in and coming out. 

This is a place of a lot of suffering, that is for sure, but it was also a place where I saw my mom welcome the stranger……….

When someone was new to the facility she would instantly start to talk to them.  She would ask all sorts of questions and try and learn everything she could about that person.  She would bring encouragement and empathy to her new friend and make sure he/she would know that they were now a part of each others stories……a part of each others hopes and dreams, but also a part of each others grieving and suffering. 

There was no goods or services offered here, just an offer to be apart of someone’s life. 

To welcome someone into your life and to enter into somone elses is true hospitality.  True hospitality is welcoming the stranger……..

Can you feel someones hurts? Can you feel there pains?  Can you feel their hopes?  Can you feel their dreams?

Hospitality is not about how many good things you can give to someone or about how good of service you can give to them……..Hospitality is about real people who have real lives and our opportunity to join them……..

Something she could be proud of, something she could feel     feel    feel

She said they not used to not having nothin real      real     real

That they don’t know how to act, don’t know how to feel      feel      feel

LUPE FIASCO

So, I have this friend named Keith……..

I met Keith about a month ago and he spent some time in Tampa so we instantly became friends.  We shared a meal together at Jimmy John’s.

We talked about church and politics for a while and then we got to some deeper issues.  Keith just recently lost his daughter to a very deadly disease and deep depression has plagued his recent days………

Keith is desperately trying to get back on his feet while dealing with this depression, but one day he just could not take the pain and checked into the hospital.

I get a call about a week after I meet Keith from a friend of his who told me that he was in the hospital and that he wanted me to get in contact with him.  She kindly gave me the number to the hospital and I quickly dialed the number.  After a couple of connections I finally reached someone at the psychiatric ward.  After talking to the receptionist it became very clear that I was not going to reach him or give him a message, for that matter.  They basically hung up on me because I was not family.  Yes, they are just protecting him, but it was still frustrating.

I had lost hope………..

A week later I get a phone call from Kieth!  He left me a message saying that he needed a P.O. Box so he could recieve his veterans checks and medicine.  Keith, having no real address, needed this desperately.

I agreed to pay for the six month fee, 35 dollars.  We decided to meet the next day and drive up to the Post Office…..

Wednesday rolls around and my friend Ben and I do hop in my car and roll out to have a meal with some folks that live in the woods in chapel hill, NC. 

As we eat, I ask one of the guys if they have seen one of my friends Wesley around.  “you mean Wes?”  one of them says to me.  “Yeah,” I reply.  “Well, Wes died, he was drunk and got hit by a car,”  The other guy says to me………………

This is a friend of mine……..

This is a friend who I promised to take to Florida in March…….that is less than a month away…….and now he is gone……

At the end of the meal when we were just about to leave one of the guys who stays out in the woods, Harvey comes up to my friend Ben and I and says, “Hey you guys driving?”  “Sure are.  Do you need a ride,” I reply.  “Yes, but you are not going to like were I am going…………..” he replied

Harvey was going to the Liquor Store.  He told me he was going to walk there anyway, but that he would really appreciate the ride…………

I really struggled with this…….especially because Wesley just died walking Drunk…………

What should I do?  Give him a ride to the Liquor Store? Or, let him walk?

I don’t know if there is a right answer………

I gave him a ride….my only hope is that Grace is bigger than this…..

I think that my friend Patrick said it best when he told me that……”It is always best to aire on the side of Grace.”

As we drove we learned that Harvey was a former Marine who has post-traumatic stress disorder, a widower (his wife died of a heroine overdose) and a man who loves his philosophy…….

As we talked I began to feel like we had a relationship going, but as we dropped him off the sadness I felt for Harvey, mixed with the sadness I felt for Wes collided and I LOST HOPE……….

That is until I picked up Keith for our Post Office visit.

Right when I saw him I immediately started smiling and so did he.  I reached out my hand to give him a shake, but he immediately grabbed me and gave me a big bear hug……..this guy made my day.

Keith is in a halfway house now.  He is making it…….as he tells me, “God is good!”

Then we were off to the Post-Office.  We got there just in time, but the lady said we needed a voters card to get a P.O. Box so we jumped back in the car and raced towards the elections office, grabbed a voters card an hurried back within minutes of them closing up. 

Keith filled out his forms and I paid the bill.  Then, what I saw I will never forget.  The lady hands over two keys to Keith and says, “Now, don’t lose these.  You will have to pay a fee to get them replaced.”  Keith’s eyes lit up and a big smile came to his face as he grabbed the keys.  “No mam, I’m definitely not going to lose these.”  Then he turned to me with that big smile and said, “wannna go check it out?”  “Of course!”

We walked down the hall and found the box and Keith took one of those golden keys and unlocked the little door and it opened right up. 

I have never seen someone so excited about a P.O. Box before in my entire life………

“There she is,” said Kieth.  “Isn’t she beautiful?”  “Sure is,” I replied. 

You gotta understand.  This is it for Keith.  This mailbox is all he has…….but Keith gave me a way bigger gift that day.  A gift way more valuable than any mailbox.  Keith gave me hope, faith and love………even after I felt like I had lost them all. 

When I dropped Keith off he said those same words that he said when I first met him, “God is Good.”

Amen.

- Mos Def

As I walk out the door of my Dad’s house in Orlando for an evening run on Christmas the depression hits.  I don’t know if any one else experiences this, but I always get depressed after Christmas.  Maybe it’s the overload of sugar…….Maybe it’s the stress of the next year ahead……Maybe it’s the longing for more stuff……..the stuff that we mistakenly call “gifts.”

Whatever it is it hits me every year.  And don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas.  It is one of my favorite times of the year, but I dread the time after Christmas. 

As I walked down the street longing for a nice run to make me feel better I see a friend of mine that I grew up with in my neighborhood who is a year younger than me.  We are going to call him James because I don’t want to use his real name. 

I almost said hi and just walked on by…you know the “hey how are you, okay i’m way to busy to talk to you” thing that we do.

But, for some reason I stopped and chatted with James.  I quickly learned that James had just been released from prison and is on house arrest for selling cocaine in downtown Orlando.  James comes from a line of drug dealers.  His Dad was deported back to Haiti shortly after they moved into our neighborhood because he was arrested for having a kilo of cocaine.  After graduating high school, James realized that he could make a lot of quick money selling cocaine so he took a cruise ship to Haiti to meet his Dad and smuggled cocaine back to the states.  James made a lot of money really fast………..then he got arrested.

He should be in prison, but the judge gave him house arrest because his lawyer proved that he grew up in a nice area and was a good kid who just made a bad decision.  Funny what the suburbs can do for you…….

This is the wealthy burbs of Orlando.  So, here our conversation began….

We started with small talk, but we soon graduated to some very deep issues after I told him that I want to live in the neighborhoods that he deals in.  (By the way, this conversation is going on while he is buying an eight ball (cocaine) on his cell phone and waiting for his brother to pick him up to go downtown to deal).  I will never forget what he told me after I told him the things I want to do with my life…….He says, “There can be a million Jonnos (he calls me jonno), but it won’t make a difference.  Just get a good job, make money, support a family and stay away.  You need to make a good life for yourself.  You see, those areas, they      have      no      hope………”

So we continued to walk and talk………three hours to be exact.  We talked about everything from drugs to racism, from education to violence, from politics to money.  Every twenty minutes or so James would get a call and he would set up a deal for later that night, but as we walked the calls slowly stopped………………

At around 1 in the morning James stops and says, “You know what, I was going to go deal tonight, but this conversation really enlightened me.”  I quickly replied, “Well, I hope I enlightened you as much as you enlightened me.”  Then he said, “My brother hasn’t came to pick me up yet and my phone has stopped ringing.  I think this night happened for a reason.  I’m glad we talked.”  We then parted ways after a conversation that I, hopefully, will never forget.

As I walked back down the street to my Dad’s house, in the neighborhood where money is no issue, where my old friend James is on house arrest for dealing cocaine and where I learned that there is another way possible I thought to myself…….

There is always hope.  And James, who does not believe it, just proved it to me.  Maybe, just maybe, it starts with one conversation at a time………….

Joy: noun 1.  the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation 2. the expression or display of glad feeling 3.  a state of happiness or felicity

What do they have to do with each other?

Lately I have been wrestling with the same thing.  I mean, can we really have joy in suffering?  Why suffer?  What do we do with that……

I heard great ideals growing up in church.  Every Sunday I heard stories of people who risked everything–risked everything to show what love looks like.  People who suffered and were constantly around others who were suffering.  But beyond the great ideals that I was hearing I was told to live another way.  I was never told to actually live like these people.  That would be dangerous!  I was told to stay in my safe little corner where I was most comfortable……because life is about being safe and comfortable, right?

My Pastor Tim has said multiple times that the thing he fears most for his kids is that they will follow the way of Jesus.  Why?  Because instead of being safe, instead of getting ahead, instead of making a comfortable life they will endure much suffering by turning the other cheek and becoming the least. 

Take a moment and think about one person who you believe changed the world for the better.  I will even name a couple……..Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Theresa…..I think you get my point.

Now think about that persons life. 

When we think about their lives we can see that they all went through some kind of pain and suffering.  Life was difficult, unsafe and uncomfortable.  But………….they          all         unavoidably       came          out       better          people.

Why is it that the people who are near suffering always seem to create something bigger than the suffering?  Why is it that these people make such a huge difference?  Why is it that these people have joy in their suffering?

It is because there will be death……..but there will be resurrection.

It is because there will be Fridays……..but there will always be Sundays.

What does this say to a church that is so far from the sufferings of the world?  Do we not believe in resurrection?  Do we not believe that good ALWAYS comes from the terrible?

We may endure suffering, but we must have joy. 

We must have Joy because suffering is not the last word………the last word has yet to be spoken.

This is a phrase that a good friend of mine has to constantly remind me.  He knows that I have a problem with anxiety…….I was once told that I even had an anxiety disorder.  If there is something to worry about…….I’m on it. 

Only until recently have I begun to see the root of this worry. 

I worry about me!

I worry about my stuff….my well-being….my grades….my safety…..my comfort…..

Why do I only worry about me?

I have begun to believe that this selfishness is the root of a lot of problems.  I would even go as far to say that this selfish worrying is hindering the church’s imagination.  Look at it this way…….we have two options………

We could……..

Worry about our safety.

Worry about the growth of our congregations.

Worry about our stuff.

Worry about our money.

Worry about our benefits.

Worry about our security.

OR We can worry about

Others……the others who don’t have a chance

The others who have nothing.

The others who are discriminated against.

The others who have lost everything.

The others who have no chance.

The others who just can’t take it anymore.

The others who can’t love themselves.

The others who have never felt love.

The others who are helpless.

Only then will we begin to find our place in the world.  Only when the focus is off of us and on those who need us will we see a message that is full of life.  Only when we focus on others will we see ourselves asking different questions….

Instead of “How can I get more money?” we will ask “How can I give more away?

Instead of “How can I become the best?” we will ask “How can I become the least?”

Instead of “How can I help myself?” we will ask “How can I help others?”

Instead of “Why are all these horrible things happening to me?”  we will ask “How can I help those who are suffering?”

If we are to follow Jesus, the one who taught us that the last shall be first and the first shall be last, we must shift our focus from ourselves to others.  I have worried about me and asked questions that will only benefit me for too long.

It is time for us to switch the focus from us to them…..because only when we start worrying about Right things and asking the Right questions will we begin to see that it is not about us……..

Only then will we begin to believe that, “It’s all going to work itself out.”

Only then will we see that there is a new way…….