Ben White's Adventures with softened hearts

Tag: NJ

Cells are Resistance

Cells are my resistance movement. And this moment in time demands resistance. I’m pretty sure I would be in utter despair if I didn’t have a cell. Circle of Hope organizes into circles of ten we call “cells” where we do the actual work of being Christians together- loving, laughing, lamenting and including the next person. Cells teach me how diverse people can actually love each other. Loving across boundaries is something I witness and practice, not just something I believe in. If this were all just an intellectual exercise, fueled by the power of my own conviction, I would be depressed. Many people I know are depressed. I think they need a cell. They need a place where God does the miraculous work of knitting us together in love. We participate, mind you; our mutuality is hard won. We have to trust each other with our guard down long enough to acclimate to our togetherness. Humans are tempted to default to separation, self-protection, bald categorization… but in cells we resist that temptation and our resistance can transform the world.

Everyone is talking about xenophobia this week. Some are on the defensive against the accusation.  Others are on the attack, accusing someone else. It seems we’re all thinking about our fear of strangers (xenos=stranger in Greek). Donald Trump’s executive order has suspended immigration from countries said to be full of dangerous strangers. And it has pushed the country’s conversation from seething disagreement to shouting freak-out.

I am amazed at how foreign many of my neighbors have become to me in the short aftermath. How did YOU get caught up in the wisdom of “America First”? Really, YOU’RE into this too? Why does Trump’s rhetoric appeal to YOU? I’m trying to nurture surprise and curiosity rather than outrage. If I plan on loviing someone long enough for them to trust me, I can’t start with outrage (but I do understand why some folks are leaning in to that anger right now.) I’m trying to live out the reality that our common humanity unites us. Jesus came to teach us exactly what that looks like, which is love for people who are radically different. He crossed boundaries, included strangers, and told us to do the same, explicitly. So I’m practicing loving refugees and people who are scared of refugees.

The goal is loving well. We do not need to have a refugee live in our home to be obedient, though that would be a sure-fire way to ace the test (if it were a test). We can love the people we are actually with. We can hold our hands at our sides even when our instincts are telling us in error that we are certainly going to get punched in the face. We need to be saved form our certainty that the other wishes to do us harm. We need to resist the division in our hearts that is getting built into massive walls. Cells are a place to do that for real. Our cells are a resistance movement. Yes, go to the marches if you need to, but don’t think your normal togetherness is not revolutionary. Let’s not get divided up. I defy the empire that wishes to divide and conquer us. I will love and be loved even when it’s hard to do that. Jesus will help. This is my primary form of resistance.

My cell meets on Thursdays in Gloucester City, NJ. HMU if you want to get in on it.

Holy, Holy Geese

I don’t think I can tell people enough that in Celtic iconography the Holy Spirit is often represented as a wild goose. To the Celts of ancient Ireland and Scotland, Ah Geadh-Glas (Wild Goose) was a more apt description of their experience of the Holy Spirit. How caged and docile is your experience with the Holy Spirit, how unlike a dove?

I’m sure if I studied the mourning doves that come to the feeder in my back yard I could find the appropriate mystery and wildness in them too, but geese have just spoken to me more in my life.

I started my early rising prayer life at Eastern University with the Canada Geese on the pond there. I trained the ducks to eat out of my hand, but the geese would have nothing to do with me. Only the nesting mothers would allow me near them and they scared me with their violent hisses. I’ve come back to the morning geese this fall because, again, I live by a pond (though this one calls itself a lake).

The geese are there waiting for me when I rise and then I wait for them to leave. And watching them go is the most wondrous part of them, and the thing about them that for me makes them best to tell the Holy Spirit’s story. They talk about going for a while and it’s not always at the same time. At first I thought it must be the angle of the sun–they usually leave soon after the sun crests whatever treeline it rises behind, but as I paid attention I could tell that it wasn’t nearly so exact.

geese-take-flightThe fun of it is I can tell when they are leaving but I’m never sure of the moment they will go. They flick their heads and grunt at each other, seemingly consulting one another about the every day revelation that it is time to fly to the best grass nearby. Scientists have studied this phenomenon and measured it. One study reported that this period of consultation lasted anywhere from nine to twenty-two minutes.

The wild goose then is a perfect symbol for the Holy Spirit because they are common enough (in Ireland and Scotland and Haddon Township, NJ where I live at least) but unpredictable and elusive. They can even bite you. Following the Holy Spirit can feel like an actual wild goose chase, yes, but if we give up trying to catch Her and instead be contented in watching and listening when She happens to be there in the morning (and who knows for how long?), we will love Her and She will shape us. And in many, many mornings She will still be wild but we may just be tamed.

Here’s a poem I wrote for Her.

Ah Geadh-Glas

O Holy Sprit, Ah Geadh-Glas,
I am familiar with your leavings,
Though uncertain of your path.

I could tire of the finding–
Leave your joy here in the grass,
But I’ll marvel at your going,
Walking water in noisy splash.

And I’ll wonder at your flying.
Flocked with kin above me, pass!
Make me happy, wild and singing,
O Holy Spirit, Ah Geadh-Glas!