Just contemplating this poem. We are singing the Eric Whitacre arrangement of this in Chorale this semester.
Emily Dickenson
Part Three: LoveVII
I HIDE myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too—
And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
I am White.
I am White, but I am becoming increasingly aware that I have no idea what that means and how desperately I want it to actually mean something. How can I, a white American from the affluent Northern Suburbs of Chicago relate to anyone of a different ethnicity and culture if I do not first know and own who I am?
I am Angry because I recognize that the depths and sphere of institutional racism permeate into the circle of my community, my education and even my personal relationships with others. I see the brokenness of the the world around me but feel helpless to change the circumstances that promote this type of society.
I am Hopeful that, despite my current frustration and anger, God is still working and changing the world as well as my heart. He is inspiring and motivating, and although I am not quite at the point of action, he is beginning a work in me that will change me forever. I cannot unlearn what knowledge I have gained and because of that, I will continue to be broken for the oppressed and the marginalized until the work of reconciliation is done-- until we are reconciled to one another as a people united under God.
I am Angry because I recognize that the depths and sphere of institutional racism permeate into the circle of my community, my education and even my personal relationships with others. I see the brokenness of the the world around me but feel helpless to change the circumstances that promote this type of society.
I am Hopeful that, despite my current frustration and anger, God is still working and changing the world as well as my heart. He is inspiring and motivating, and although I am not quite at the point of action, he is beginning a work in me that will change me forever. I cannot unlearn what knowledge I have gained and because of that, I will continue to be broken for the oppressed and the marginalized until the work of reconciliation is done-- until we are reconciled to one another as a people united under God.
Friday, June 26, 2009
...of a community, a church and it's history
I'm in Chicago!! I have arrived! After months of praying and anticipation I am finally here. I'm here, after a week of camp training, "getting to know you" games, and telling the stories of my life, exhausted. While I am very tired, I also have great expectations for my experiences this month. I'm here in North Lawndale as an Intern for International Teams in Chicago. My internship experience includes both interactions with local churches as I serve as a Team Leader for their Camp Champ Day Camp program as well as interactions with the city, the community and discussions, discussions, independent study and reflections on topics such as race, social justice, poverty and oppression and how they relate to the Message of Jesus.
Before I embark on the process of sharing my journey with you, I want to provide you with the historical lens which allows us to see the neighborhoods of North and South Lawndale as they exist today. This is a simple abbreviated history, but I think it is helpful for understanding the issues and struggles the neighborhood faces on a daily basis:
North Lawndale was organized in 1857 as a Part of Cicero Township and was crossed by a French and Indian potrage to that is now Ogden Ave. It is one of the few cities roads that runs diagonal rather than in the block structure, but was maintained because of its historical function and significance. The name Lawndale was supplied by a real estate firm that subdivided the area in 1970. In 1989 North Lawndale was completely annexed by Cook County and in 1890 the completion of the Garfield branch of elevated train, splitting South and North Lawndale in two. By 1910's the Population doubled due to Sears, Roebuck and co. supplying 10,000 jobs and Western Electric Company's plant on the border of Cicero and North Lawndale. The neighborhood was, at that time, 1/2 of the population was Russian Jewish and by 1930 the population rose to 112,000. As Jews began to migrate to Northern communities in the 1940's and 50's, African-Americans began arriving in Chicago. This caused what is known as "white-flight"; due to racial fears manipulated by realtors, the white community and African Americans who had the means, left the city leaving the population 91 percent African- American. In 1968, riots following Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination caused the Roosevelt Road shopping strip to be destroyed. Between the years of 1950
and 1970 North Lawndale lost somewhere around 75 percent of its business establishments and 25 percent of its jobs. In the 1970 and 80s the population decreased by 60,000 to 61,534. In 1987, Sears Roebuck closed completely and dismissed 1800 people leaving the population by 1990 at just over 47,000, 43 percent under 21 yrs. and 44 percent below poverty level.So...that's quite a history lesson, but I think it has helped my understanding of the neighborhood and its circumstances greatly. The Church that I will be working with this summer, Westlawn Gospel Chapel, has been in this neighborhood for over 50 years and it's connections throughout the city are boundless. The past few years, Westlawn has partnered with 2 churches from South Lawndale, otherwise known as La Villita (Little Village), to do their summer camps. This may seem something not out of the norm for many, but in these neighborhoods it is something that represents great strides in terms of community. La Villita is the largest Latino neighborhood in the city and tensions between both La Villita and North Lawdale are strong. 3 churches unifying despite their cultural tension represents something huge in this area. I am so excited to be a part of it.
As (Bethany, Kait, Caitlyn, Tiffany, Park, Dan and I) talk about "Our Stories" and how we came to be the people we are as a result of our pasts and we discuss the histories of the places we are this summer, I am challenged to think critically about how race and culture are a huge part about the history here, and are not a huge part of my own history. I am white, very white. Unfortunately, that means that because I am a part of the majority, I have never had to ask myself "what does it mean to be white?" My identity has never included my race because I have never identified with anything but the majority "culture" of white, middle class America. As I continue to ask this question, I would love to hear your thoughts, input, discoveries, and stories if you would share them with me. I read today that "...we are in a story, like it or not. But always, for people like you and me and all humanity, we are in the middle of the story." I will be sharing parts of my story here and I would love to hear about parts of yours as well!
Until next time,
Sam
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Of God and Trees
Tonight I had a conversation with a friend about God. This is a fairly common occurrence with the majority of my friends, but this conversation in particular is stuck in my head. I find myself chewing on ideas as a cow chews upon it's cud. As I digest, I hope to share some ideas that are leaving a bit of residue.
Our conversation, or at least this portion of it, was focused on the variables of our Christian tradition and how we, as humans, attribute God with our wants and desires. We talked about how our perspective of Christ changes depending on what we wish him to be. In someways I found myself taken aback, defensive, wanting to claim that this as impossible. But all the while, I knew that I often attribute God to those things I wish him to be...the things I need him to be.
During the conversation I sat on my porch swing gazing out at my backyard. Listening to my friend on the other line, I glanced up at the massive tree that sits just on the other side of the fence that separates my yard from my neighbors. Looking up at the tree, I realized something. I have looked at that tree my whole life, marveling at its design, the intricate weave of its branches, the way it stands there with a certain wisdom about it. Although I have seen it, observed it and watched it since the first day I came to live at that house, I have only seen that one side of the tree. I have never seen it from any other angle except for that of the view from my back yard. I have only seen it from this perspective because, for one, I cannot physically see the whole tree at once. Even from a birds eye view I would fail to be able to observe it's roots or into its core. Secondly, I have never rounded the block to attempt to view it from another perspective. There has never been a pressing need to see it from another direction, in a different light.
What if God is like that. For one, we cannot physically comprehend God in God's entirety. Our human minds cannot fathom the depths of his wisdom, the oceans of his mercy and love, the scope of his being. And secondly, what if our human understanding of God is a matter of perspective? Can I see God in a way from my perspective without truly knowing how another may understand God? I think so. This does not mean, however, that Truth is a matter of perspective. This tree is a tree, there is no changing that. In an even more concrete way, God is still God, unchanging. He is the same from day to day. All of the "variables" of Faith are a matter of perspective, but the Truth, the unchanging God who is the same today as he was yesterday and will be tomorrow, is still found in the reality that is God and the reality of the death and resurrection of his Son.
So, maybe tomorrow I will venture to the other side of the fence and see what that tree looks like from my neighbors yard, after all, it is a beautiful tree and I have come to find a great comfort in it. I desire to see it from as many perspectives as possible. If I could, I would ask a worm what it looks like from underground and a bird what it looks like from high above. In that same way, if I pursue God in his muti-faceted being, how much more will I appreciate who God is? Regardless of my perspective or the variables that my perspective allows for, that does not change what is ultimately True.
Our conversation, or at least this portion of it, was focused on the variables of our Christian tradition and how we, as humans, attribute God with our wants and desires. We talked about how our perspective of Christ changes depending on what we wish him to be. In someways I found myself taken aback, defensive, wanting to claim that this as impossible. But all the while, I knew that I often attribute God to those things I wish him to be...the things I need him to be.
During the conversation I sat on my porch swing gazing out at my backyard. Listening to my friend on the other line, I glanced up at the massive tree that sits just on the other side of the fence that separates my yard from my neighbors. Looking up at the tree, I realized something. I have looked at that tree my whole life, marveling at its design, the intricate weave of its branches, the way it stands there with a certain wisdom about it. Although I have seen it, observed it and watched it since the first day I came to live at that house, I have only seen that one side of the tree. I have never seen it from any other angle except for that of the view from my back yard. I have only seen it from this perspective because, for one, I cannot physically see the whole tree at once. Even from a birds eye view I would fail to be able to observe it's roots or into its core. Secondly, I have never rounded the block to attempt to view it from another perspective. There has never been a pressing need to see it from another direction, in a different light.
What if God is like that. For one, we cannot physically comprehend God in God's entirety. Our human minds cannot fathom the depths of his wisdom, the oceans of his mercy and love, the scope of his being. And secondly, what if our human understanding of God is a matter of perspective? Can I see God in a way from my perspective without truly knowing how another may understand God? I think so. This does not mean, however, that Truth is a matter of perspective. This tree is a tree, there is no changing that. In an even more concrete way, God is still God, unchanging. He is the same from day to day. All of the "variables" of Faith are a matter of perspective, but the Truth, the unchanging God who is the same today as he was yesterday and will be tomorrow, is still found in the reality that is God and the reality of the death and resurrection of his Son.
So, maybe tomorrow I will venture to the other side of the fence and see what that tree looks like from my neighbors yard, after all, it is a beautiful tree and I have come to find a great comfort in it. I desire to see it from as many perspectives as possible. If I could, I would ask a worm what it looks like from underground and a bird what it looks like from high above. In that same way, if I pursue God in his muti-faceted being, how much more will I appreciate who God is? Regardless of my perspective or the variables that my perspective allows for, that does not change what is ultimately True.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
of oil based paint, swingsets and God's Faithfulness
I figure that even though I have not yet begun my ministry this does not mean that I can't share about my ministry and life here in Anderson Indiana as I prepare for this summer!
This past week I participated in a service event called Operation Foundation: Project Anderson. It was basically a week long service project where each day we gathered at Walnut park in Anderson, IN and then groups of us split up and went out into the city of Anderson to complete projects given to us by individuals and by the city. Being a part of the planning process, I have been able to see God' faithfulness throughout the process of this event, and I am in awe of how God can work through something as simple as motivating one individual to step forward and say, "yes, I am willing to help in any way you wish to use me". Each day I was able to see God working among the volunteers in the relationships we built and in the community as more and more members sought us out and asked why were there and others even came out to join the workers.
My favorite part though was the fact that each day I got to play with and talk with the kids in the neighborhood that would come to the park and play baseball, kickball, tag etc.
It was beautiful. I can't even describe how much I'm going to miss those kids.
One specific incident, however, will stay with me for a long time. Yesterday, I spent a few hours painting a swing set and since the younger kids on previous days were not so great with the paint, all of my helpers were 5th grade or older. As I was painting I was able to interact the kids as well as observe their interactions with one another. Yes, I know they're junior highers and to some extent they're expected to be punks who push the boundaries and test how much you'll take, but even so it was evident how the brokenness in their lives formed how they made assumptions about their world. They treated eachother with no respect and called each other names, bragged about their failures at school and were proud of their fist fights.
Even now I read this and say to myself, "Sam what did you expect? These people aren't you and why would you expect them to have the same conscience or internal motivation as yourself?" I guess I found myself shocked at what represented success among their group of friends. I had been joking around with them and talking with them for a while, and at one point when I was painting on a ladder they all made comments about how they were going to knock the ladder down from under me. At one point, one of the younger boys said "No, don't knock her down. You'll get in trouble and go to juvi andthen you'll get sued." This made me laugh, but at the same time my heart was breaking inside. This kid is so young, and yet there is already a disconnect between motivation because of rules and consequences and motivation soley on the basis of human compassion. He didn't say "No, don't knock her down because she'll get hurt. But rather his rational was based from what would happen to the other kid". I know they were joking and I know it's not a big deal, but all of this coupled with the interactions and statements made about how girls should be treated really got to me.
Here I was, in this neighborhood I've lived near for 2 years and yet I knew nothing about the interactions of the people, the social norms and the brokenness, not just physical but also relational. My heart is broken because I know that even though I made an effect, compared to the norms that have already changed, molded and hardened the hearts of the youth, I haven't done anything...well at least not nearly enough. I am broken because I see the little girls growing up believing that they are worthless, defined by the way men look at the, and incapable of breaking through the boundaries the school system puts before them. I see the boys growing up with standards that tell them that anger is ok and acting upon that frustration is the only way to show their dominance. I saw a community crying out for escape from this economic regression. Amidst it all I saw Joy and Beauty and Freedom.
I have been praying since the beginning of the semester after I reconginze how hardened my heart had become since first semester, that God would break my heart for the ministry he had provided me this summer. And although I know that this summer maybe nothing like this week, my heart is broken for those who see now escape from the expectation that society sets for them. It is broken for children who just need a hug and someone to tell them they are loved. It is broken for a world that is desperately in need of a savior and the faithfulness, joy and peace that he brings.
This past week I participated in a service event called Operation Foundation: Project Anderson. It was basically a week long service project where each day we gathered at Walnut park in Anderson, IN and then groups of us split up and went out into the city of Anderson to complete projects given to us by individuals and by the city. Being a part of the planning process, I have been able to see God' faithfulness throughout the process of this event, and I am in awe of how God can work through something as simple as motivating one individual to step forward and say, "yes, I am willing to help in any way you wish to use me". Each day I was able to see God working among the volunteers in the relationships we built and in the community as more and more members sought us out and asked why were there and others even came out to join the workers.
My favorite part though was the fact that each day I got to play with and talk with the kids in the neighborhood that would come to the park and play baseball, kickball, tag etc.
It was beautiful. I can't even describe how much I'm going to miss those kids.
One specific incident, however, will stay with me for a long time. Yesterday, I spent a few hours painting a swing set and since the younger kids on previous days were not so great with the paint, all of my helpers were 5th grade or older. As I was painting I was able to interact the kids as well as observe their interactions with one another. Yes, I know they're junior highers and to some extent they're expected to be punks who push the boundaries and test how much you'll take, but even so it was evident how the brokenness in their lives formed how they made assumptions about their world. They treated eachother with no respect and called each other names, bragged about their failures at school and were proud of their fist fights.
Even now I read this and say to myself, "Sam what did you expect? These people aren't you and why would you expect them to have the same conscience or internal motivation as yourself?" I guess I found myself shocked at what represented success among their group of friends. I had been joking around with them and talking with them for a while, and at one point when I was painting on a ladder they all made comments about how they were going to knock the ladder down from under me. At one point, one of the younger boys said "No, don't knock her down. You'll get in trouble and go to juvi andthen you'll get sued." This made me laugh, but at the same time my heart was breaking inside. This kid is so young, and yet there is already a disconnect between motivation because of rules and consequences and motivation soley on the basis of human compassion. He didn't say "No, don't knock her down because she'll get hurt. But rather his rational was based from what would happen to the other kid". I know they were joking and I know it's not a big deal, but all of this coupled with the interactions and statements made about how girls should be treated really got to me.
Here I was, in this neighborhood I've lived near for 2 years and yet I knew nothing about the interactions of the people, the social norms and the brokenness, not just physical but also relational. My heart is broken because I know that even though I made an effect, compared to the norms that have already changed, molded and hardened the hearts of the youth, I haven't done anything...well at least not nearly enough. I am broken because I see the little girls growing up believing that they are worthless, defined by the way men look at the, and incapable of breaking through the boundaries the school system puts before them. I see the boys growing up with standards that tell them that anger is ok and acting upon that frustration is the only way to show their dominance. I saw a community crying out for escape from this economic regression. Amidst it all I saw Joy and Beauty and Freedom.
I have been praying since the beginning of the semester after I reconginze how hardened my heart had become since first semester, that God would break my heart for the ministry he had provided me this summer. And although I know that this summer maybe nothing like this week, my heart is broken for those who see now escape from the expectation that society sets for them. It is broken for children who just need a hug and someone to tell them they are loved. It is broken for a world that is desperately in need of a savior and the faithfulness, joy and peace that he brings.
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