St. Francis Inn

Room at the Inn is a film made in 2006 about the Franciscan Inn and it's development since the 70's.   The guests remain the same.  The volunteers and FVM's come and go.  But the core team remains and has changed significantly.  The Fathers, friars, nuns, and the lay team wrinkled and grayed.  They have become more joyful and warm.  That's what thirty years of commitment, repetition,  and daily sacraments will do to you.

This life is available to all.  Common people turned into saints and hero's.   Could we, flawed as we are, be this in Tampa?  In some ways it's as easy as merely copying ideas and implementing them in Tampa.  More challenging, it's adopting the lifestyle of passionate sacrifice that is available to all.  The only requirement is daily renewal of intention.  We are both inspired yet guided by St. Francis Inn.   

The embracing of the Franciscan tau- "try, try again"

The Inn creates magic despite constant threats from the city due to loitering.  They provide a place and times of joy and celebration.  Yesterday Jon and I attended their annual block party.  The guests at the Inn, daily humbled by having to seek free meals due to poverty get a chance to celebrate life and all their blessings.   There were clowns and pony rides for the kids a mist the littered and disease infested street, under the elevated train that runs several times an hour and rumbles the place.   Delicious baked chicken and dessert.  A DJ whom we found out left years of professional DJ'ing to become a Father.  He now drives up yearly for this block party.  

The Inn is the flower that grows in a cracked sidewalk.  

Dear Tampa,

You may have heard the story of the two Buddhist monks that were walking to a far off destination. On their way they came to a river where a beautiful young woman was stuck and needed to cross the river. One of the two holy men approached her and asked if she would like some help crossing. Agreeing, she jumped onto the monks back and he carried her across the river so that she would stay dry. After setting her down she went about her way and the two monks continued on in silence. After walking the rest of the evening and arriving at their destination the monk who had not spoken to the young women let out what had been bothering him throughout the day."How is it that you would speak to, touch and even allow that young women onto your back?" he asked in a mildly accusatory tone. See these monks had a discipline of staying cloistered away from women and never touched or even spoke with them. The monk replied "Brother, I set her down back there at the river bank, why are you still carrying her around?"

I have thought about this old story a lot while on this time away from you. See I am torn. While I love the story and think the ways that we (Probably should say I) cling to dogma and legalism are dangerous and often, as in the story, keep us from loving others. This point of the story rings very true for me, however the ideal of detachment is a different thing.

Since being away from Tampa, you people that I love, you ministries and communities with which I have rooted myself are always on my mind. I keep wondering to myself how I can better detach for the sake of 'sabbatical.' Now there are things that I should detach from that have been really difficult for me since being away. Its hard to keep myself from constantly checking in on things with The Well and I know Natalia has been having the same struggle with the Eden Project. I find myself thinking about the time of day and being keenly aware of each time I know a meal is being served, food is being picked up, our micro-site is gathering to worship or an open mic is popping off. I know that routine and habit have etched these time frames into my mind and it should be expected but I also sense myself longing to be there and be involved in someway. I have some real attachments that a healthier me could break with. This, I think, is a kind of detachment that I should practice. The ministries are all in amazing hands and more than that God is moving among them. There is no need for me and that is both a sweet treat and a bitter pill to me. I see my need to be needed flaring up and I also see my lack of trust in God in marked relief here. So, to my friends and partners holding down the fort in Tampa, thank you for being enough and thank you for spending yourselves on behalf of the poor and hungry and lost in our city.

Now when it comes to "our city" I cannot (and shouldn't) let go. Philadelphia is a beautiful city with amazing people and work being done here. The Kingdom is coming in this place and there are seedlings of that reality everywhere. In terms of "home" in the abstract, I have been very at home here and found many brothers and sisters who I have been able to share in real community with. Our family transcends states and regions and, while it is contextualized different in different places, the culture of the kingdom, our true home, is powerful and present. I have a deep longing and love for Tampa that I believe is straight from the heart of God. I miss it. Not a night goes by that I don't lay in bed, processing what I have seen here, and choke up thinking about seeing justice, love and community bring true shalom to Tampa. Our City is worth committing to, worth fighting for and worth surrendering to the will and ways of God. Everything I see here in Philly stirs a dream for Tampa, a memory of Tampa or a critique of Tampa. I keep remembering GK Chesterton's words that we do not merely love places because they are great (for then they might stay the same and that would be a tragedy) rather places become great because people love them. He corrects any who might say that this is fantasy by pointing to actual history. Every great civilization began at some sacred stone or tree. People devoted themselves to a place, and because they loved that place they committed to it, fought for it and developed it. This is an attachment that I have found deep in my heart as I experience prolonged time elsewhere. I am still carrying Tampa with me.

As I have been meditating on detachment a thought has been occurring to me. Perhaps I am not clinging to or carrying it with me as much as I am in its grip, just as I am in the grips of Jesus. Maybe the tension I have been feeling is a good and right presence of two truths? Detachment is good and healthy in regards to our capacity to surrender everything in our lives to God. Our hands are to be open and all things are to be on the table. My capacity to let go, however, is found in the grace of God which grasps all of my being. I am not attached as much as I am possessed. God possesses my whole heart, though I often struggle to break free, and I guess he keeps it in Tampa.

You Have my Heart,
Jon

"If you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life"

On the outside what we've been doing here looks alot like what we do at home.   How is serving the hungry, having coffee with the homeless, and testing the medically uninsured for communicable disease any way different here in Philly than back home?  Here we are sharing crazy stories, being productive together, playing board games, and enjoying the simple pleasures of food like home-baked cookies with our neighbors.    Does this really feel different?  In some ways yes.  We get to "clock out"  .  But in others no- when the hours are over we realize that we are physically tired and must retreat to our room to read.  Ultimately we are realizing that what we do for work and what we do for fun are the same thing.  What we do is both the hardest and the funnest work that can be done.  

The City of Brotherly Love Sculpture

The Dirt Factory

Ok so check this out...The Lake House used to operate a fledgling composting co-op. We would go around the neighborhood once a week and pick up bins of compost from other houses in our community and dump it in the fairly large pile of decomposing organic material we had in our yard.  It was a beautiful mess. We ran the co-op for about a year and collected a little more than a half ton of compostable materials so that we could reinvest those nutrients into our communities soil. During that time we really struggled to have someone available each sunday afternoon to pick up from people and we had varying success with people using their bins. Eventually we stopped because of a lack of consistent pick up volunteers.

 

Today I saw how doable our vision was with just a few adaptations. We heard about and visited this place called The Dirt Factory in west Philly. As we drove to it I kept imagining a huge dump area with trucks and all the bells and whistles of a large operation. As we pulled up I was shocked to see a small city lot in the middle of an urban neighborhood will a few small compost demonstration 'backyard' set ups and then two huge composting containers. They found an overgrown and neglected lot in the city, contacted the owner and convinced him to allow them to do something for the community on it. Then the college had these two EARTH TUBS from a pilot project and gave them to The Dirt Factory at 'A very generous rate.'

Each unit can handle an input of about 100 lbs per day and can have as much as 3200 lbs of compost in it before full. Because of the size of these containers the internal temp of the actual compost reaches high enough temperatures to kill off seeds and other potentially unwanted life.(about 135+) They have a volunteer who simply turns the lid each day as the mixing auger spins and voila...Super fast compost production. They have teams that collect bags of 'brown' leaves and mulch to add to all the 'green' that their people bring in. They stockpile a large stack of bagged leaves to add as needed and then simply open their doors once a week for an hour and they have about a hundred households that are occasionally dropping off there compostables. We were there as they were open and just about everyone who showed up was either walking or biking so it seemed clear that they all lived within a very short distance from this neighborhood location. The drop off is free to anyone who wishes to use it and they are making small amounts of compost available for free to anyone starting a garden on there city stoops (there a not many yards in this city). Its beautiful!

Obviously there are people who would love this service and live too far to get their compost to the drop off location. Well another man with a truck has started a small business to augment this free service. For 15 dollars per month this man will drive to your place at an agreed upon time to pick up a nice 'composting bin' that your subscription gets you and deliver it for you to the drop off. Then each spring he also delivers about 30 gallons of compost to each household subscriber that wants it. Not bad huh?

Its very doable and I think I have some idea how to replicate that giant composter. It might be time to resurrect the composting co-op with a new model. As I reflected on the experience I think it would not have had as much of an impression on me if it was a huge operation that clearly had money backing it. That wasn't the case though. It was a small thing that seemed not to have much money involved at all and only a few people doing a small amount of work were keeping this thing going. I felt taunted and provoked by it!

Inside of an Earth Tub with fresh compost scraps.

Odors from the tubs are pushed through a bin of wood chips by a solar powered fan for filtering

Our new friend Rike sitting on a raised bed with a side bench

                                                     Finished compost, leaves in bags,Earth tub

The happy members bringing in their compost. 

                                                           The whole operation

                                                                Adding compost to the Earth tubs

                                                                        Operating Instructions

                                                                         Entrance

The One Thing

Click here to read this post at Ultimate Concern blog

What Not to Do?

This morning the Pope, during a mass at Domus Sanctae, talked about following Jesus as being much more than 'doing good' or 'a career.' I was really grateful for that word because as I take this sabbatical from full time ministry work, it gets confusing what exactly I should avoid doing. For example today I got a call from a new friend we made at The Simple Way and they had some extra romaine lettuce after their food distribution. They asked if we wanted it and you know I am not going to turn down food. We are actually getting by on very little and are grateful for any free supplies we can get our hands on. I drove over only to realize that they had an entire case of lettuce and a few other things as well. I immediately knew we couldn't use it all but we told them that we knew some folks that could and brought it home so that we can take it with us to the St. Francis Inn tomorow morning for the meals that they are making there. As I loaded it into the car I couldn't help but realize that this is the kind of thing I do everyday. So am I working? Am I in some way not keeping with the spirit of a season of Sabbath? You see when your in the privileged position of getting to do full time ministry these lines get really blurry. I know that food shouldn't be wasted or allowed to go bad and I know that there are people right around the corner who will rejoice for having received it. I remember Jesus healing on the Sabbath and correcting those who would rebuke him for 'working' as he did good. Today's homily from Pope Francis was really helpful as I reflected on this question. Following Jesus is not a career and you do not rest from following Him but sometimes when following Him he leads you into rest. This entire Sabbatical came out of a conviction and our efforts to faithfully follow Jesus. We are not here to stop being Christian or stop doing good for those things are not a career. I am, however, on a sabbatical from a ministry vocation so what is it that I am not doing? I am not formally teaching, I am not coordinating, coaching or leading others, I am not hunting down resources to further the work of The Well and I am not taking meetings or recruiting volunteers. I have taken a break from these tasks associated with the work and ministry of The Well and I have done this because I am trying to follow Jesus. So while we are here a lot of things I do may look like things I do at home...in fact they really should because I am still following Jesus. He still loves the poor here, still gives us opportunities to serve and give and listen and cry. Here I get to do it side by side with Natalia which is such a dream come true for me and I also get to do it freely and without any ministry goals or long term strategy. I just get to be, with my wife, with Jesus in Philly. Its pretty nice.

Combining Liturgy & Sociology for a Christian Ecology

Click here to view post at Ultimate Concerns

Community Farm day at Greensgrow Farms

Getting some great inspiration today from Greensgrow Farms

Mass and the Trinity

This morning we attended mass at the St. Francis Inn with it's ministry volunteers and leadership. It was intimate, simple, and powerful. Powerful because through a divine mystery we share communion with every person who has given their life to serve the poor across the world. Through the divine mystery of the Father, Son, and Spirit we are both led and comforted along the way.

Good Eatin'

So we were still waiting on recommendations from friends of places to eat in philly so we did a bit of research on our own. Turns out Guy Fieri did a D,D&D episode on a spot within walking distance from where we are staying so we hit up the Memphis Taproom.
It was a really cool spot with some delicious food. Reminded me a bit of Ella's in Tampa and also has a special weekend brunch menu which we just missed so you know we are gonna have to hit it up at least one more time while we are here.   

Arriving to Philly

We just got to Philly yesterday. We are boarded up on the second story of a four-story humble home on a busy street in Kengsinton, PA. The streets are full of litter and the train runs loudly overhead on pretty blue/green tracks. All the old homes are right up to the streets with no yards anywhere. The area has much heroin and many prostitutes. We are down the street from the St. Francis Inn (free daily meals) and the Catholic Worker Free Clinic.

As soon as we got here we "shopped" in the food pantry and got some good staple food and toiletries. Pretty much all we need so far as day-to-day food looks like it'll be covered between the pantry and the free meals. We started talking to some people about volunteering to cook and there is an HIV testing clinic and pharmacy that I may volunteer at. We'll see how it goes. There is a garden here too, it's a funny thing that spans several little allies and back patios from the surrounding houses. Each sections is chained up and you have to carry many keys here to get through all the locks.

We live with two young boys, two older kids that we have yet to meet as well as an older Burmese woman. Her name is Moe-Moe Aye and she mops and sews. Apparently her family only eats what they cook and no "american" food. This area has many Vitnamese, Chinese, Korean, and other Asian stores. They even have a kosher store with live animals they butcher right there.

We've been taking daily walks and reading alot. Jon is currently reading "The Different Drum" on community making and peace by M.Scott Peck, and I'm reading Isabelle Allende's "House of Spirits" . Daily we are reading short easy essays by Peter Maurin from a book called "Catholic Radicalism".

We are going to Mass tomorrow morning. The churches are huge, old, and beautiful.

The Prophets of Oakridge

We found out about these modern-day prophets while staying at the Washington, DC Catholic Worker community. One of their own, Michael Robin Walli, was currently imprisoned due to this protest action. During our stay, we signed a card that was to be sent to him.

"Last summer, in the dead of night, three peace activists penetrated the exterior of Y-12 in Tennessee, supposedly one of the most secure nuclear-weapons facilities in the United States. A drifter, an 82-year-old nun and a house painter. They face trial next week on charges that fall under the sabotage section of the U.S. criminal code. And if they had been terrorists armed with explosives, intent on mass destruction? That nightmare scenario underlies the government’s response to the intrusion. This is the story of two competing worldviews, of conscience vs. court, of fantasy vs. reality, of history vs. the future"

-Click here for the full Washington Post story: http://www.washingtonpost.com/sf/style/2013/04/29/the-prophets-of-oak-ridge/

Sabbatical Radicals

Think for a minute about roots. What comes to mind as you think about roots?  Roots are typically hidden beneath the ground. Though out of sight and often forgotten they are crucial to the life and health of the plant or tree. The roots absorb the water and nutrients that the tree must have to survive and bear fruit. The roots anchor the plant so that it may weather storms and remain grounded and stable. The roots also store nutrients as well as prevent the erosion of the very soil that it lives in. Roots determine the life and productivity of the entire plant. 

Now think about the word radical. What comes to mind? 

The word radical comes from the latin word radix which means "of or pertaining to the roots or having roots." It is also the word from which we get radish which is a delicious root vegetable which was creatively named "root." 

To be radical is to be rooted. 

This time away is, for Natalia and I, of and pertaining to our roots. We have grown and bore fruit, we have been pruned and weathered storms and we are grateful for the roots that have nourished and stabilized us.  During our time away we are turning our attention away from fruitfulness and concentrating on growing our roots as deep and wide as possible. We pray that as we go deep with Jesus and each other we might find richer sources of nutrients and grow ever more stable. 

We are getting down to the roots and going deep. This sabbatical is all about being radical.

The Dorothy Day Documentary

Washington, DC "Dorothy Day" Catholic Worker House

The Table is set for guests

The Catholic Worker logo, art by Ade Bethune

"Dorothy Day" house from the street, Washington DC

A basement full of anti-war propoganda

Jon helping out in the communal kitchen

Dorothy Day House garden, Washington, DC

Acts of mercy this place lives by

From the beach to the forest

The last taste of Florida is a beach of large sand dunes and sea shells.  The shell fragments here are primarily of a pretty grey-blue color.  Cars have beach access and are numerous on the shore.  We take a long stroll in the packed tire tracks.  Eventually rain threatens us  and we hurry back to the car.  

The next stop is Brunswick, GA at the Hostel in the Forest.   The entrance is a mailbox saying simply "hostel".  It is easy to miss.   A bumpy winding forest road takes you to a fairy land of sorts.  Wooden domes, homes on stilts, and boardwalks emerge.  There is a main office depicting the founders from the 70's.  The place is run by volunteers and travelers.  We are greeted with warm hugs, a "welcome home" and instructions to "follow your bliss".   We relax in the library and on the composting toilet.  Our tree house bed overlooks the labyrinth.  Its concentric paths must be raked daily, methodically, religiously.  We wonder how many years it's been re-created as the leaves fall.   
As we explore we come across yoga and worship glass houses as well as snakes and turtles.  For dinner we stand in a "thankfulness circle" and one by one, young and old, say where they are from and what they appreciate.  There are many "I am from the forest" responses.   A vegetarian feast prepares us for bed.  We spend the night reading about the Enneagram and Chilean dichos. 

And it Begins

As we head north, the scenery changes.  Everything becomes more vertical.  The trees start getting taller, the houses skinny and tall, the bridges higher.  There are more stilts and more balconies.  

The wildflowers turn into corn poppies and coreopsis.  The birds start singing different tunes.

Rain and fog make for somber travel.  We are mostly silent, but aware of each other and the road ahead of us.  Jon sings every word to Talib Kweli and Bob Dylan.

The first destination is Black Creek off Saint John's River.  We've made it across Florida and still get to enjoy palms and spanish moss.  A young couple great us.  They have a fresh baby boy and a backyard with a fishing pond.  We relax instantly.  The next day we travel to a nearby home on the river.  An infinity pool overlooks ski boats.  I meet Jon's childhood buddies and friends we haven't seen since our wedding.  When the day ends we are back on the road.