This is my fourth year and my 111th attempt to make my KNOWvember challenge happen. I have interviewed a lot of people, researched a lot of places, and learned about a lot of things. One might say I have spent way too much time on this weird little social experiment of mine, with not a lot to show for it - other than 111 posts and higher blood pressure. You'd think by now, I would have learned my lesson. Or at least improved my grammar or creative writing style. According to Malcolm Gladwell, I am still many years away from mastering this. In 2008, this Canadian journalist published his third book entitled, Outliers: The Story of Success. In it, Gladwell examines all the different factors that contribute to a person’s high level of success. One idea he repeatedly mentions is the "10,000-Hour Rule," which posits "the key to success and expertise in any skill, is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing the correct way, for a total of around 10,000 hours." This was not his original thought. The 10,000 hour rule has been around since the ‘70s. And it has been challenged ever since. As many would argue, this theory of self-improvement well...depends on a lot of other things. In an article he wrote in 2013 for the New Yorker Gladwell revisits his thesis stating, “No one succeeds at a high level without innate talent, I wrote: “achievement is talent plus preparation.” But the ten-thousand-hour research reminds us that "the closer psychologists look at the careers of the gifted, the smaller the role innate talent seems to play and the bigger the role preparation seems to play." In cognitively demanding fields, there are no naturals. Nobody walks into an operating room, straight out of a surgical rotation, and does world-class neurosurgery. And second—and more crucially for the theme of Outliers—the amount of practice necessary for exceptional performance is so extensive that people who end up on top need help.” Despite the fact that many people have debunked this rule for many different reasons, Gladwell still stands by this "magic number of greatness.” He cites all sorts of fun examples from a wide range of people who have achieved “world-class success.” Given his constant inquisitive mind, Gladwell wanted to find out the key of how these people got there. For example, why are the majority of Canadian ice hockey players born in the first few months of the calendar year? How did Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates achieved his extreme wealth? Or how did the Beatles became one of the most successful musical acts in human history and so on.
K. Anders Ericsson, whose research is the basis for Gladwell’s thesis, clarifies that the most important distinction between what Gladwell popularized and what Ericsson's research showed is that it's not about the number of hours of practice, it's about deliberate practice. "That's a kind of practice where you're not actually doing your job, you're actually taking time where you're focusing in on trying to improve," Ericsson says. Candice Elliott argued, “The 10,000-hour rule is not really about the number of hours you put into something; it’s about deliberate practice. If you want to become great at anything, it matters more how you practice than how much you practice.” Ericsson calls this a deliberate mindset, or to have a passion to learn that makes you really focus intently and deliberately on getting better. Let’s go back to me practicing guitar for 20 hours a week (which I will volunteer to do for the sake and authenticity of this article). Deliberate practice is practice with the intent to improve after each round. It more about “how” you practice instead of “how much.”
I bought my first guitar, a 1956 Gretsch Electromatic, from a shop on Sunset Blvd around the corner from my house in Hollywood. I was 30. After spending years hanging out with musicians, I figured it was time to learn. I found a guitar teacher, who at my very first lesson said this, “I can teach you to play guitar. Or I can to you play guitar.” Because you didn’t hear the inflection in his voice, or see him nod and tilt his head forward as he raised and lowered his eyebrows, let me explain what he meant.
He knew that he could teach me how to play with my head, learning scales and runs and tricks that I could build upon. Over time, if I practiced and put in my 10,000 hours, there would be a very good chance I would be a master guitar player. But, he wanted to let me that that he could also teach me how to play guitar that came from the heart and gut, that expressed emotion and soul. You know, like Hendrix. Since I wanted to learn fast, and didn’t have 10,000 hours to get there, I chose the latter. As Ericsson points out, on top of how long I practice, and how I practice, who teaches me what to practice is equally important. He writes, "In particular, when you do that under the guidance of a master teacher, so the teacher would be able to actually tell you what is going to be the next step here in your development. That is the kind of practice that we talked about as being essential to reach the highest level of performance." I had a neighbor who is a very famous bass player, like super famous. If you know bass players then you would know him. He has mastered the technical, and even invented a few tricks of his own that have become his signature. He has recorded and toured with other skilled and master musicians for close to four decades. He knows how to “play” guitar. But he also understands how to “play” guitar. One day, while my kids and I were washing the car in the alleyway, he stopped and ask the kids how much would they charge him to wash his car? They shouted out all sorts of answers. But I said, “I’ll wash and detail your car for bass lessons. And this was his response (I kid you not). “Deal. Lesson one. Stop playing the bass. I’ve heard you play and you suck.” I will add that it was all said in good humor and we all had a great laugh. But as he drove away with his dirty car, I knew in my heart he was right. I hadn’t given the bass 100 hours, muchless 10,000. Gladwell argues are no prodigies and people with special gifts in this world. “Research suggests that once a musician has enough ability to get into a top music school, the thing that distinguishes one performer from another is how hard he or she works. That’s it.” Since so many people have worked so hard to debunk Gladwell’s argument, maybe the rule should be amended to say, 50,000 hours. At least that will give me an excuse to play guitar a little while longer. But if I am busy playing I won't be writing. And if I'm not writing then I'm not improving. It's a vicious cycle. But at least this one has guitars https://www.edsurge.com/news/2020-05-05-researcher-behind-10-000-hour-rule-says-good-teaching-matters-not-just-practice https://howigotjob.com/articles/how-long-is-10000-hours/ https://www.listenmoneymatters.com/the-10000-hour-rule/
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As we all know, good-byes are never easy.
For those of us who follow the way of Jesus, we are given the assurance that we are never really saying goodbye. But more like saying, “I’ll see you later.” It might sound like a bit of semantic gymnastics, but it does offer us a bit of hope. Especially when the world around us seems so full of hopelessness. I’m sure the disciples had no idea what to expect when they dropped their nets and left their homes to follow Jesus. I couldn’t tell you if it was easy or hard for them. If their life, in the short term, got better or worse. What I do know is as they stepped into that space between, they did so together, in community. Jesus knew this would be no easy task. And so, before he leaves them, Jesus assures them that he will always be with them, only in a new way. (READ John 14:15-24 here) “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another teacher, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. I will not leave you orphaned...
Let’s begin by setting the scene.
Jesus is reclining at the table with his disciples. Their bellies are full of the last Passover meal they will share together. During the evening, Jesus has washed the feet of his disciples, including the betrayer. And he’s switched from referring to them as his students, to calling them his friends. In the previous verses, Jesus tells the crew that he will no longer be with them. He is going away. When asked where he’s going, Jesus simply tells them “I’m going away to prepare a place for you.” His vagueness makes his friends anxious. I’m sure they have a million more questions. But John only gives us Jesus’ answer that they will not be left orphaned. When I was looking for a passage to mark this occasion, I found myself drawn to this one because of the assurance Jesus gives to his friends and followers, who are us. A new teacher will come after Jesus who will move with us in that space between. That teacher, according to Jesus, is the Holy Spirit, or the Spirit of Truth. Some translations say Advocate instead of teacher. But I like how Eugene Peterson in the Message uses the word “friend” instead. There’s something personal about it. Whichever way the Holy Spirit is defined, the sentiment is the same. God has given us a teacher to teach us, an advocate to stand with us, and a friend to comfort us as we face the challenges ahead. Keeping this knowledge safe in our hearts, we know we will always have Christ with us as we move together in Anamesa. Thus, Jesus isn’t saying good-bye. Simply, “I will see you later.” He might have a new name, but his mission remains the same.
So how does this apply to us, today?
The Bible tells us Jesus will see his disciples again – post resurrection. That’s not what I’m talking about. Nor am I talking about seeing Jesus again in that place where he said he’s going to prepared for us. I’m talking about seeing him right now, in that space between heaven and earth. In the way we walk with intention, together in Anamesa. Let’s go back to that room, and sit around the table with Jesus’ friends. Amid the anxiety and uncertainty, Jesus reminds us all, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” The two greatest commandments, according to Jesus, are loving God and loving others.If we love him, we will make this our sole mission in life. Because by keeping his commandments we will see him, again and again, in every space we enter. We will see him in the face of the poor, and in the eyes of the one’s crying out for help. We will see him in the line at the food pantry getting groceries for his family. Or marching on our streets in protest to the injustice that remains unbridled. For when we care for another, and show love to those around us, we do also to him. If you say you love Jesus, then you can’t help but love those who you meet in all the sacred spaces of life. The call to love is first a call to Jesus: to know him, to live his life, and to walk his path. When we walk as he walked, we can love as he loved, and see others as he saw them – as beloved children made in God’s image. Therefore to love Jesus is to be forever connected to God. When we are connected to God, we are able to see God’s Son in all things. When we recognize this, that God is in all things, then we will be able to love others as if we are loving Jesus himself. Love is the spirit by which we must move ourselves and this church forward. God gives us the Holy Spirit to get us there by reminding us of who Jesus is. And what we are called to do. God has given us the same Holy Spirit that was given to Jesus, who sees a person open to salvation when the world only sees a conniving tax collector. God has given us the same wisdom that was given to Jesus, who sees someone who can reclaim a pure life, when the world sees only a woman caught in adultery, or a criminal pleading for mercy. God has given us the same power that was given to Jesus, who sees a solid foundation for the church when the world sees only Peter, a man of flimsy faith. This should make us all pause to wonder what Jesus sees in you and me. Or what others notice too. When a person looks at you, do they only see what’s wrong with the world, or do they see the One who redeems it? In the absence of a physically present Jesus, our daily practice of walking in his way makes the presence and love of God come to life in the world. This was our intention when I first gathered with about 35 other people in that space behind me to say hello to this new church plant here in Sherman oaks. Over that time we have learned the way of Jesus. We’ve learned what it means to be disciples and followers and lovers of the Christ. Today, we gather from all over the place to say good-by to a name, but our mission remains the same. We will keep our focus on loving God, loving others and serving both. This is the Way of Jesus. The way of God’s salvation, for us and for the world. Now we are being called to live that Way so others can learn from us. It won’t be long before Jesus’ friends realize that they too are not saying goodbye to their beloved teacher, but are in fact saying hello to the rest of their lives. And that they will always see him in all the ways they live out the gospel. Now it’s our turn to join them as we look ahead, moving forward, onward and upward welcoming every new day as a new opportunity to see Jesus and bring his way to life. Just as we welcome Jesus into our hearts, let us welcome his Holy Spirit, the very breath of God, the creator of all life. Just as we have opened our hearts to Christ, let us also open our hearts to the Spirit of Truth, the gift of God to empower the people of God to move throughout the world as the visible presence of God’s Incarnate love. And let us join together, in the name of our Creator, our Savior, and our Sustainer, to not just enter the holy and sacred spaces of life, but to define what it means to live in Anamesa, the place where we can always see Jesus, and forever be with him, to the glory of his name, Amen.
Much to the chagrin of my family, I love to tell people “I’ve been to all 50 states, but Kansas.” This isn't an intentional dig at this state - which I discovered I really know nothing about. I take some responsibility for this, but not all my ignorance is my fault. Twice I’ve had the opportunity to go to the Sunflower State (which is also known as the Wheat State, Jayhawks State, The Free State, and a bunch of other nicknames depending on who you ask). Twice my attempts have been foiled.
The second time I had a chance to go through was when my middle child and I drove our dog from Michigan to California. We had a chance to take I-80 that would let us stop in the state where Dorothy and her little dog Toto blew away to Oz. Or we could go south a bit and see Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, Texas. I’m sure you already know which way my daughter chose. “Hey dad. This way you can keep your record of seeing all 50 states but Kansas going.” That leaves me with the internet to learn about his state that was named after the Kansas River, which in turn was named after the Kansa people who lived on that land. The first Euro-American settlement happened in 1827 at a place called Fort Leavenworth, which has the second oldest active Army post in the country (west of Washington D.C). The state was admitted into the Union on January 29, 1861. Somewhere in between these two dates, Kansas became a hotbed for political chaos when the “the Kansas–Nebraska Act in 1854 pitted abolitionist Free-Staters from New England and pro-slavery settlers from neighboring Missouri against each other to determine whether Kansas would become a free state or a slave state. Thus, it was known as Bleeding Kansas” before the abolitionists prevailed. After that, Kansas would be unofficially known as "The Free State." Historically, Kansas has been an all-red, Republican stronghold; a phenomenon that dates back to that movement opposing the extension of slavery into Kansas Territory, which helped create the Grand Ol’ Party. Believe it or not, the last Democrat elected to the U.S. Senate happened during the 1932 election, when Franklin D. Roosevelt won his first term as president in the wake of the Great Depression. This is the longest Senate losing streak for either party in a single state. Kansas is known for many other things. Did I mention they think they are the middle of the country? Well they are in the middle between Nabraska to the north, Oklahoma to the south, Colorado to the west, and Missouri to the east. And in 2019, U.S. News ranked the state at #26 - right in the middle of all the other states. It is also known as America’s Breadbasket because it produces more wheat than any other state. In fact, agriculture uses up 88% of the 82,278 square miles that make the state. Besides wheat, they also produce a bunch of the nation’s corn, sorghum, and soybean supply. And of course, they are also well known for beef. You might recall that Kansas is also the literary setting for a story about a young farm girl named Dorothy Gale whose story is told in the novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. But did you know it is also the backdrop for Truman Capote’s 1965 best-seller In Cold Blood, which chronicles the events and aftermath of the 1959 murder of a wealthy farmer and his family who lived in the small West Kansas town of Holcomb? There are other famous Kansans as well. Dwight D. Eisenhower, the great general and two-term President grew up in Abilene where his childhood home and Presidential library still reside. Another was the famed female pilot, Amelia Earhart, who vanished in 1937 near the end of her flight around the world. People are still looking for her plane, which I suspect is in a wheat field in Kansas because that would be the last place people will go to look. Walter Chrysler, the automaker, was also born there in Wamego while the great postmodern author William S. Burroughs died there in Lawrence. Fun Fact: The first White Castle burger chain started in Wichita. Even though they don’t currently exist anywhere in Kansas, you can still find Pizza Hut and enjoy an ice-cold ICEE here in their home state. Speaking of food, because of its plain and prairie landscape, someone compared the topography of Kansas too an IHOP pancake, arguing “the similarities were simply too great to be ignored.” In case you want to run for President of this great country where Kansas may or may not be in the middle of, you might want to know that the Kansas City Chiefs and the Kansas City Royals are not from Kansas. They are from Missouri. I’ve been to Missouri.
Though millions of wagons and station wagons have traversed its green grassy plains, I have not. I have met plenty of people who once called this place home, but none have been like Wyatt Earp, Wild Bill Hickok, and Bat Masterson whose spirits still haunt the streets of Dodge City. But in my meeting of these people I’m almost convinced if you want to get a real taste of America, Kansas just might be the place. Perhaps, if everything works out, and COVID will stop being a thorn in my side, then I will see for myself firsthand next summer as I am scheduled to attend a conference in this mysterious land. Until then, I have my guitar and Jerry’s song “to make Kansas look like greener grass to me.”
The Canadian Encyclopedia writes, “Peltier was appointed Chief Water Commissioner by the Anishinabek Nation and has spoken about the issue of contaminated water on Indigenous reserves in Canada at the United Nations. For her activism, Peltier was nominated for the International Children’s Peace Prize in 2017, 2018 and 2019.” Autumn Peltier was born and raised on the Canadian shores of Lake Huron, one of the Great Lakes and the world’s largest freshwater supply. Peltier learned about the importance of clean water and respecting the environment from her great-aunt who was known as the “water walker.” As the BBC reports, “Inspired by her aunt, Josephine Mandamin, who walked the shores of all five Great Lakes to raise awareness for water conservation and indigenous water rights, Autumn began speaking at community events about the importance of protecting Canada's water.”
"Water is one of the most sacred elements in our culture because we use this water in ceremony." At the age of 12, she got international attention when she challenged Canadian Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau. Presenting him him with a ceremonial copper water bowl – a symbol of his responsibility to protect his nation’s water supply – Peltier told Trudeau, “I’m very unhappy with the choices you have made.” (Trudeau had recently support for several pipeline projects that drew sharp criticism from indigenous and environmental groups.) His only response was “I understand that. I will protect the water.” But even a young girl knows politicians promise anything when the cameras are on. Peltier’s public “scolding” gained her access and invitations to address conferences around the world. Speaking with passion and poise, Autumn Peltier has stood before the United Nations (UN) in New York, the UN General Assembly for the launch of the International Decade for Action on Water for Sustainable Development in 2018, and then again before the UN Global Landscapes Forum in 2019. Moreover, she has also received the Sovereign's Medal for Volunteers “for her exceptional advocacy and being an exceptional conservationalist.” And recognized and honoured as an Ontario Junior Citizen for her advocacy work. At the passing of her great-aunt in February 2019, Peltier was appointed her position as Chief Water Commissioner. Today, she is the “water walker” of her people. What she has accomplished so far in her life is impressive for anyone, at any age. But let us not forget that Autumn Peltier has managed to achieve all of this before she was old enough to cast a vote. When a child asked her, “What would you tell kids who want to speak out on behalf of others or the environment?” Peltier simply answered, “It is important to speak up on behalf of those who are too afraid to speak up. You can be the light in someone’s darkness.” Getting to KNOW her has made me take a more serious thought on the severe drought I am living in here in Western America. We all need to keep it in mind, because it is a situation that affects the entire country. We need water, clean water, to grow the food we produce. We are not alone. There are millions of people around the world are having to ration what little water they are able to get. And many have to boil it because it is contaminated. Then there are those who are being denied this basic human right due to greed, instability and unrest in their country. Water is everyone’s right. We need it to survive. We must not pollute it. And we must never hoard it. Like love, it should be given freely. Free of charge. And free of toxins, parasites, and any other harmful byproducts of our doing. I might not be a kid, but I want my kids and their kids to have access to clean water. I am glad I got to know this "kid" and to know that someone is doing something to protect this natural treasure. May we all be like Autumn Peltier and understand that "We need water to survive and live and that's literally the only reason we're here today is water." May we all be an advocate, not just for life but life lived in abundance.
Kids these days. Am I right? Thanks to Google and lazy teachers they get to learn all the cool stuff us older folk were never taught in school. Case in point, barley corn units. Now unless you are from medieval times (and not the entertainment restaurant) then there’s a good chance you’re like me and do not know what my daughter was talking about when she asked, “Hey dad, have you ever heard of barely corn units.” The answer was a you might have already guess, “No.” If your answer would have been “Yes! I do know what barely corn units are!” then you can jump pass my feeble attempt to describe what I learned today and go directly to the end of this post and read the other weird facts I learned while looking up the answer. Per Wikipedia, a barleycorn unit is an ancient “English unit of length equal to 1/3 of an inch. It is still used as the basis of shoe sizes in English-speaking countries.” That’s it. It seems my flatfooted daughter was putting her orthotics in her shoes when she wondered how they standardized shoe sizes. (Look, we all ask ourselves weird questions when it’s only us in our head, right?) I love her curious mind because it’s so much like mine. Thanks to it, here is the history behind this wildly unpredictable unit of measurement. On the website (appropriately called) Today I Found Out, they write, “During the reign of England’s Edward II (1284-1327), certain measurements became standardized. Most pertinent to the discussion at hand: Three barley-corns, round and dry, make an inch, twelve inches a foot, three feet a yard (ulna), five and a half yards a perch, and forty perches in length and four in breadth an acre. And while it seems like an arbitrary grain by which to with, Edward didn’t pull the idea for measuring things out of his crown. This method of measuring things, “and the cornerstone global trade” is nearly 4,000 years old. “In ancient Levant, 6 barley-corn were used to denote one Assbaa (a finger) and 32 Assbaas equaled a cubit (which was also 8 Cabdas (or palms).
While rumor has it that King Edward set the standard for shoe size system, it’s not actually be proven. One could argue “the only real contribution here was to set three barley-corn (specifically a kernel of barley-corn from the middle of the Ear to keep things as consistent as possible) as an official standard for the inch in response to pressure from tradesmen and the like who were fed up with the conflicting measurement standards of the day.” Eventually the marketplace would find agreement in shoe sizing. In his 1688 work The Academy of Armory and Blazon British genealogist Randle Holme writes that the shoemakers guild agreed that:
In other words the maximum shoe size was set at 13 which was exactly 13 inches. All other sizes were determined by counting in barleycorns backwards from 13. Give this standard, it’s obvious the NBA wasn’t around back then. Shaquille O’Neal has a size 23 shoe, which means I can fit a pair of my shoes in one of his! Today, an American size 8 is 1 barleycorn larger than a size 7. “The sizing generally adheres relatively closely to a formula of 3 times the length of the foot in inches (the barleycorn length), less a constant (22 for men and 21 for women).” That is to say, if my math is anywhere near correct, a man’s size 9 shoe means his foot is about 31 barleycorns (or 10 1/3 inches) long. And for while a woman who wears a size 7 has a foot size that is 28 barleycorn long (9 1/3 inch). It’s very close to the UK standard, but they set the constant at 23, which is unisex. Barefoot my daughter is one size. With orthotics, she’s a smaller size. Why? Because you might recall, I said she is flat footed. I assume she gets that from her mother’s Irish side.
In case you were wondering, the internet is filled with all sorts of things that can bring a person down or worse, make one feel hopeless. The company now known as Meta have faced criticism for their Facebook and Instagram apps that have given rise to pettiness, jealousy, and division. If you’re a teenage girl, you could add body shaming to my small and nowhere near endless list. Still, one can find hope and good stories that can inspire and lift you up. I don’t know when the idea came, but when I started KNOWvember I had no idea or any intention to be like the Instagram page Humans Of New York (@humansofny), which was created by Brandon Stanton to showcase the beauty in ordinary people in his community. His page, unlike mine, has 11.5 million followers which tells me there is a need out there. We are all just humans. Like the people found and featured online, we are all ordinary people capable of doing extraordinary things. Every day. One such person is Kevin Livingston, the founder of 100 Suits. This is how he tells his own story @humansofny Insta: “I still have the original flyer that I made: 100 suits for 100 gang members. At the time I was working as a bank teller. My manager allowed me to put a collection box in the lobby. People donated so many suits that I had to move them to the staff closet. I got written up for that, so I moved them all to my bedroom. Nothing in there but a bed and 100 suits. We handed all of them out that very first day. I brought a suit rack to her all the kids hang out on the corner. I gave each kid a haircut: lineup, fade, I can do it all. Then afterword I would fit him for a suit.” That is how it began. This is how hope is born daily. And faith is returned, if only to a small place in the world where most hope and faith seemed to have faded. That was 2011. I am al most positive that Mr. Livingston had no idea that four years later his vision and heart would become an official 501(c)3 non-profit simply known as 100 Suits. Ten years later, they are still turning lives around one suit at a time.
While this story is about Kevin Livingston, it reminds me of a woman who came into the church that I served. She and her husband had been living in their car after their moving truck caught on fire. They lost everything in that disaster. Not just their clothes, but also their documents and identification. I was used to being “hustled” by people looking for handouts. And truth be told, it never bothered me. But there was something about these two that I just loved. They had hope.
Working with a organization that helped unhoused people, I was able to get them a week stay in a very cheap hotel. While she was happy for that, what she really wanted was a job. She was smart, articulate, and kind. (She wore a wig because she lost her hair from chemo treatments as a little girl). What was stopping her from finding a job, in a town that had very little to offer, was she only had the clothes on her back. A violet-colored sweat suit, the only thing she could find in her size and price range at Goodwill. That wasn’t going to cut it. Before I began calling parishioners for donations the church secretary came in, unknowingly, and said, “XXX just dropped off her mom’s clothes. I put them in the storage room.” The woman whose funeral I had just officiated was the same size as this woman. With a room to shower, and a new wardrobe, this wonderful woman got a job the next day. Kevin Livingston’s story is this same story. Only it happens every day with him. “ I take a young man without any hope, and put him in a suit jacket, and a tie. He’s going to change his opinion of himself. He’s going to feel like his CEO of the world.” It really doesn’t take much to give someone some hope, or to restore their faith, or to build both in them if they never had it before. “I brought along one of those cheap $10 mirrors. I showed him his reflection. Then I had sent him straight to the job development person. I had no idea what I was doing.” His story reminds me of the extraordinary things ordinary people can do, if only we take the time to get to know others, learn their story, and offer to help wherever possible. “I had no clue what it would grow to be. Over the last 10 years we’ve given out 50,000. Whenever a man needs a fresh start, 100 Suits is there with a suit.” Over the years, they have expanded their services; partnering with the prison and parole systems to assist people as they transition out of incarceration. They also provide leadership and job training. And they work to address “socio-economic issues as well as injustice issues with its community involvement and activism, making positive changes in the lives of men and women in the New York City area. These solutions help those individuals get to a place of economic freedom help to reduce recidivism rates.” This place reminds me of Homeboy Industries out here in Los Angeles; a program created by one of my heroes, Fr. Greg Boyle, to help gang-members get off the streets with employment opportunities. It’s amazing how a person’s life can be change and transformed because someone takes the chance to love them and care for them. This isn’t always easy. Livingston has had his own struggles along the way. He recalls, “There was an entire month in 2016 when I was homeless. Every night I slept in my car, in the parking lot of JFK. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone. But I kept doing what I do. Each morning I’d wash up in the bathroom of the travel center. I put on a black pants, and a $5 black T-shirt. And I drove to work. I kept a single suit jacket behind my desk. First thing in the morning and slip it on, and I get a boost. No matter what was going on. No matter how low I felt. When I slipped on that jacket, for a moment I felt like CEO of the world.” Livingston didn’t let that get him down, nor did it make him throw in the towel. He persevered and as of today has extended the organization’s reach into the community to include 100 Soups, to address the food insecurity issues among seniors and the most vulnerable in their communities. Meals are cooked and delivered by men and women who were formerly incarcerated. As Charlene Rhinehart put in her interview with Livingston, which was featured in Black Enterprise, “Children, young men, and men of color need to see people like themselves represented in a positive light by “ordinary” people. Furthermore, it provides a framework for them to understand that dreams coupled with hard work lead to success and empowerment. It speaks to possibility, demonstrates hope, and has the capacity to spur someone else to pursue their dreams despite the lack of initial support.” With two offices now serving Brooklyn and Queens, 100 Suits lives up to their mission “to help underprivileged men and women improve their role in society build dignity and self-esteem, foster self-sufficiency, dispel stereotypes, and promote community involvement in order to build each other up.” This is what I think it means to be an ordinary person doing extraordinary things in the world. We are all superheroes, but not everyone has a suit to prove it. 100suitsnyc.org blackenterprise.com Homeboy Industries
In the jungles of Central America, Donut met ayahuasca (a tropical vine native to the Amazon region that when properly prepared is known to induce hallucinogenic visions). Which leads me to Mestre Irineu. On December 15, 1892 Raimundo Irineu Serra was born to African parents, and began his life in Maranhão, Brazil’s poorest state. Mind you, slavery had only been abolished here for less than two years before he was born. As the grandson of enslaved Black people, he grew up in extreme poverty. As such, education never presented itself as opportunity for him. Despite having many struggles and obstacles to face (and boy where there many), Raimundo Irineu Serra would eventually become the founder of Santo Daime, “a syncretic religion that incorporates elements of several religious or spiritual traditions including Folk Catholicism, Kardecist Spiritism, African animism and indigenous South American shamanism.” And like Donut, it would be the brutal and ooften violent realities of life that would lead a young Raimundo to seek the healing properties of ayahuasca. In a paper on Mestre (which means master) Irineu, Glauber Loures de Assis writes, “Seeking a better life, Irineu left Maranhão and made the long journey to the Amazon, to the territory now known as Acre. He arrived there in 1912, motivated by the government’s promises that rubber tappers could earn a prosperous living in the forest.” As I learned during a trip to Peru, the rubber trade would prove to be nothing more than a false promise to exploit the many poor who were flocking to the jungles to find a better life. What they got, including Mestre Irineu, was more slavery and more hopelessness. But it was here, while working in the rubber tapping industry, the Mestre began his service as a spiritual apprentice with some of the native Peruvians whom he worked with. This was where he learned the full power of ayahuasca, or “medicine,” which had been used for thousands of years by Amazon shaman for healing and receiving prophetic visions. “When he took the enigmatic potion, Irineu began to have spiritual revelations that transformed his life and his understanding of the brew. According to Daimista mythology, on a clear and beautiful night, Irineu took ayahuasca and, as he looked up at the moon, he saw a beautiful and wondrous lady. She asked him, “Who do you think I am?” Amazed, Irineu looked at her and replied: “My lady, you must be a Universal Goddess!” This female entity was later identified as the “Queen of the Forest,” and is also understood to be a manifestation of the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception.” Not long after that, he began receiving divinatory guidance which he developed into a religious doctrine that he finished before his long life ended. According to the Santo Daime website, “Mestre Irineu received the instructions from Mary to retreat into the forest for eight days, with only Ayahuasca to drink and boiled manioc to eat. In the forest he received the instructions for a new faith in which the Ayahuasca was to be called ‘Daime.’” Dai-me is a Portugues word that means “give me.” In many prayers and hymns sung in Santo Daime services, one often hears, “daime força, daime amor” which translates to mean “give me strength, give me love.” It is believed that the Universal Gooddess “directed her disciple to go through a series of fasts and trials, after which she granted him the right to make a wish.” It was his wish to be a great healer that helped people. He then “requested that she put all her healing powers into his brew. She granted him this wish, and thus Irineu Serra became Mestre Irineu.” And his followers would be knowns as the Juramidam. They were people from all walks of life, like Donut today, who were seeking healing and prophetic visions themselves. And most would receive it drinking Mestre Irineu’s special “brew” of “medicine, i.e. ayahuasca.
But how did I not know about this? I have a house church. No one has paid me to stay here for the night. No one. From their website, the folks who seem to have trademarked the name “champing” describe it simply as “the unique concept of camping overnight in historic churches, brought to the world by the Churches Conservation Trust, the national charity protecting historic churches at risk.” If you were vacationing in the UK, they have locations in Great Briton where for a fee you can do what most older men have been doing for years every Sunday in nearly every church. Granted, ministers probably shouldn’t promote people sleeping in church. But if you are a place that as beautiful, peaceful, and perhaps even haunted it might be worth moving aside the pews to make room for champers to enjoy a night in your sacred space. Like the Champing website adds, “Don’t forget that by supporting Champing, you’re also helping to preserve these ancient spaces for the future.“ Lanie Lee writes in Nat Geo, “many of England’s historic churches become hallowed hostels by night. While “champing,” or church camping, guests are given the holy houses’ key for a candlelit night by the altar—just skip your Sunday best for a sleeping bag.” The director of the Trust, Peter Aiers adds, “It’s a great way to commune with centuries of history, whilst escaping the push-button trappings of modern life.” Many of these small parish churches have been closed down. But some open their doors when they are not being used. They even set aside many of the stringent rules, and allow things that most people would frown upon in church, besides sleeping through a sermon. Marketplace interviewed people who have done it, and here’s what I learned. Most churches allow champers to have a party in their worship space. One person said, “They’re allowed to have drink in the building. They’re allowed to have music. We just have to rely on their good sense not to misbehave.” How wonderful is that? Isn’t that what church should be? A grand party? Jesus tells numerous parables about wedding feasts and great parties being thrown. This seems like a great way to remember those wonderful lessons. Carissa Larwood seems to understand “Churches aren’t just for harvest festivals, Christmas carols or a quick peer at the stained-glass windows and Gothic architecture.” Instead they are also sanctuaries where people can find…yes…rest! At first I was a little offended by this concept of champing. It seemed a bit sacrilegious. But what could be more sacred than to opening your doors to give people rest, or to gather with friends or spend a night alone in a place that is holy and sacred? Larwood writes this of her experience. “The night is filled with a rich kind of silence. A silence embracing soaring arched ceilings and sturdy stone walls that have echoed with a million whispered prayers. From my narrow camp bed, I can see straight down the nave to an altar where distant street lights catch the shapes in a 14th-century stained-glass window, and it’s so peaceful I can almost forget there’s a sprawling graveyard beyond the doors.” Isn’t this the kind of religious experience we would want people to have? Imagine seeing a church as more than just a building full of people who forget why they are there in the first place. Champing seems to offer that opportunity. “I have the key to the door – satisfyingly large and ornate – and the church is mine to do with as I wish. I could have enjoyed a bottle or two of non-consecrated wine, perhaps, or even tested the incredible acoustics by singing the entire score of The Sound of Music. Instead, I find myself early to bed, drinking in the atmosphere of this ancient, sacred space and marvelling at having it entirely to myself.”
According to the Churches Conservation Trust, all the proceeds go toward restoring the churches and providing jobs in the communities where the churches are located. “Quite often, the churches themselves do not have a ready source of income,” said Guy Foreman, head of enterprise at Churches Conservation Trust. “Champing is very much part of a suite of opportunities that historic churches can utilize to build income that helps support their upkeep.”
In the United States alone, for every new church that opens four will close. Many of these closing happen because there is a lack of money coming in to literally keep the lights on. And those that eek by, their space is really only being fully utilized one day a week. There is a historic church in downtown Los Angeles that voted to raze their building and put in its place a parking lot. Every Sunday, they set up tents on it for worship, which does not include the passing of an offering plate. Because the parking lot makes so much money, the church no longer needs to rely on rich donors to support their missions. Kathryn Post, whose wonderful story on the religion news website introduced me to this champing thing, tells the story of one organization who was inspired by the trend that they created something similar of their own. Mission Hotels, which is based in Nashville, has been around for five years now. They have “three refurbished churches no longer host weekly worship and instead host guests in beds fashioned with church pew headboards.” Like their compatriots overseas, most of Mission Hotels profits are donated to local charities. She writes, “Micah Lacher, owner of Mission Hotels, is a person of faith who sees the hotels as a way to continue the mission of the original churches. “We are providing a refuge and home for our guests with every stay,” said Lacher. “We are pouring into the community and creatively meeting needs for those who are underserved. These churches were doing just the same when they were in the spaces.” Per Post’s post, “Lacher estimates that Mission Hotel’s donations have been used to provide more than 100,000 showers, meals and beds through their nonprofit partners Nashville Rescue Mission, ShowerUp Nashville, Room in the Inn and People Loving Nashville.” If you ask me, well, that’s what church is all about. This is how we show our hearts, where, like I said in my sermon yesterday, “God has been champing all along.” If you want to go Champing in my house church, I’d be more than happy to welcome you. And I promise all proceeds will go to restoring this historic building that is in dire need of some TLC too. champing.co.uk nationalgeographic.com marketplace.org cntraveller.com religionnews.com
In my lifetime I have visited a lot of holy places around the world. But if I were to go Champing in any one of them, well it would have to be the Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona, Spain. My first time there, I just stood in the naive and wept. It is the most beautiful and colorful and imaginative place I’ve ever been.
This impressive and awe-inspiring church was the life work of the brilliant artist Antoni Gaudí, who began the project knowing he’d never see it through completion. My friend Julian once asked me “What would be that one project you’d like to do, knowing that you would never see it completed in your life time?” He had me write my answer in a sketch book I was holding. I just recently looked in that book. And do you know what project I wrote down? “To (re)define what church is.” Not to remake it or reimagine what it is, but to define it in all the ways I live my life. I feel like this is what we are called to do, and what we are doing today. We are a church, a holy body of people, redefining that definition by breaking the mold of what we have come to think church should be. In two weeks, we will become Anamesa. I have no idea what it will look like or become. But I know how and where it will begin. Not inside a building. But in a faithful heart where God has been champing all along. Today, Jesus and his disciples are leaving the Jerusalem Temple for the last time. When someone in his group makes a comment on its impressive size, Jesus had this to say: Read Mark 13:1-2 “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
To say the Jerusalem Temple was an architectural achievement might be an understatement. Today, it’s still considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. And for good reason. King Herod spared no expense to impress the wealthiest and most powerful rulers of his era. Scripture tells us that the Temple was the center of Jewish worship. And because of its geographical location, we could argue it put God in the center of the known world.
According to historical records, the Temple was roughly 3 football fields wide by 5 football fields long. The enormous stones of its foundation, the one’s referred to in this story, each measured 40 feet. The façade of the main entrance was covered with so much silver and gold that in the bright sunlight it blinded anyone who looked at it. It had sprawling courtyards, grand porches, covered walkways, and a monumental staircase that was a spectacular sight for sure. The paint wasn’t even dry on the place when Jesus very publicly declared, it would “all will be thrown down.” So you can imagine the shock the disciples must have felt when they heard it. You’d think they’d be used to Jesus saying weird things like this. But back at the campsite, they press him to reveal exactly when it all will happen. Read Mark 13:3-8
In light of all the bad news that is fed to us every day, I can see why some are uneasy with this apocalyptic passage.
Roger Nishioka writes, “Towering buildings are not supposed to crumble. Oceans are not supposed to leap out of the sea and flood miles inland. The ground is not supposed to shake under our feet. The sky is not supposed to form a funnel cloud and destroy the town. But all who have watched the world trade towers collapse, seen a tsunami flood a nation, experienced an earthquake or suffered through the powerful tornado know that such events happen.” If we think about all the storms we have weathered in the last 18 months, it’s hard to find any comfort when Jesus says, “This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” Still, it doesn’t stop a few of my friends from using these tragic events to formulate when the second coming of Christ will happen. Many have concluded that time is now. But Jesus said, “These are just the birth pangs.” In other words, “Something new is coming.” I might be skeptical of my friend’s predictions on the end of the world. But I do sympathize with their troubled spirit. I was in Indianapolis with my dad for the Men’s Final Four tournament, when I thought the end of the world was upon us. We had just left the restaurant after dinner when we noticed the streets – which had been packed with thousands of partygoers – were now empty. The only thing left were massive puddles and a lingering eerie feeling in the air. As we walked back to our hotel, we heard a sound in the distance. One we didn’t recognize until the hail started dropping. Empty wet streets. Sirens. Hail. You could say God was giving us a pretty clear warning that something bad was about to come. We needed to get to safety. And fast. Now my real fear kicked in when I realized we were standing in the middle of an empty stadium parking lot. I could see our hotel in the distance, but it was still a couple of blocks away. With nowhere to hide, we took off running. And made it to our hotel room just as the tornado touchdown on the very spot we had been standing. Still wet with rain, I was freaked out while my dad stretched out on the bed and began to read a book without a care in the world. To his credit, we don’t know when the end time will come. But we do know that we have been give this time to live, not in fear but in faith. So, it’s hard for me to imagine Jesus is using weird apocalyptic imagery to scare his disciples. Perhaps they were obsessing a little too much over what he was telling them. And perhaps Jesus said those things to remind them where to place their faith and focus. This is a wakeup call for us as well. We, like the disciples, can lose focus trying to figure out the signs of the time. We often allow politics, work, and bad news to take our eyes off the more important mission – to witness to the Good News that Jesus has ushered in. Let’s be real, we don’t know when Christ will come again. But we do know that Christ has already come and instructed us on what we are to do today. As long as there are natural disasters and human error that cause God’s children to suffer, there’s work to be done. This is a good of place as any to begin defining what church is.
St Peter’s Basilica, which is the home church of the Pope himself, draws millions of people through its doors every year. While it might be fun to go Champing under the roof of the Sistine Chapel, it seems contradictory to what God is calling us to do: to get out of the building and be in the world as the visible presence of God’s redemptive love.
God wants us out in the world defining what it means to be the church, the very body of Christ himself. Because the way I see it, of all the millions of churches, mosques, temples, and synagogues out there, not one is as beautiful or as impressive or stunning as you. God doesn’t need a building. God needs bodies. God needs you and me to show up in the holy and sacred space of life where there is real hurt and real pain and a real need for God’s presence. Buildings can be destroyed or invaded or simply shut down because of lack of funds or interest; proving that things made by human hands are temporary. But we are made by God’s hands. In God’s image. And through Christ Jesus, we are made everlasting. As St. Peter writes, we are “Living stones...chosen and precious in God’s sight...to be built into a spiritual house...through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:4-5). No fire, earthquake, or global pandemic can destroy what God has done in the world. Nor can it disrupt what God is doing right now. With us and for us through our Lord. In two weeks, we will kick off Advent with a new name. We chose this day, not because it’s the new church year, but because it marks a season of waiting for something greater to come. I’ll admit I have my moments of fear. I worry what changing our name might do with what we’ve already built. I see this gospel story as a reminder to be faithful in our waiting because something new is unfolding. Weird things happen that we have no control over. We can’t predict what is to come. But no matter what happens, we can prevail because we are the body of Christ, which not even death can destroy. Anamesa isn’t just a name. It’s a way to walk, and run, and cry, and laugh, and sing, and worship and love together in that space between. It is a way we come together in the name of Christ Jesus, to define the church, fully and faithfully. It is a way for us to show up together, as the light and love of Christ himself to meet the needs of those crying out. It’s a way to bring hope, and peace, and healing and restoration in our divided world where today it’s needed badly.
Work Cited
Content collected from original sermons on Nov. 15, 2015 and Nov 18, 2018. Bartlett, David L and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word, Year B. Vol. 4. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009)
By hanging it on the side of the dry cliff, above the valley floor, the structure was able to avoid damp and rot, not to mention flooding and runoff erosion. And lastly, because it is sandwiched between two peaks, “a bay-shaped valley is formed which acts as a haven and reduces wind erosion.” A monastery by nature is often a secluded community of monks living under religious vows. They often served as places where travelers could stay. This was especially true in the Middle Ages as there were very few inns during that time. Monks were known to also helped to feed the poor, take care of the sick, and provided education to boys in the local community.
“Because religion was prevalent at that time, and people were reluctant to stop at places that worshipped a different religion, the Hanging Monastery enshrined China’s three major religions so that more travelers could stay there.” As David Russel Schilling wrote, “Perhaps most amazing is that the monastery has withstood the test of time, withstanding wind, rain, and storms as well as the often violent changes from one Chinese dynasty to another.” I’m not sure this would be the place for me to live in seclusion. At least, like I said, not until I deal with my acrophobia. It’s just a little too close to heaven for my comfort. And given my inability to walk and chew gum, it’s also a little too far from the ground. Fun Facts: At 246 feet off the ground, this structure is higher than it is long.
Work Cited Schilling, David Russel. Spiritual Power of China’s 1500-year-old Hanging Monastery. (January 13, 2017). Song, Candice. The Hanging Monastery, Datong —3 Faiths, 1,500 years old! (October 2, 2021) |
Ian MacdonaldAn ex-copywriter turned punk rock pastor and peacemaker who dedicates his life to making the world a better place for all humanity. "that they all might be one" ~John 17:21“Prius vita quam doctrina.”
~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) * “Life is more important than doctrine.”
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