Karis Karis How Does Your Garden Grow?

A garden provides one of those 'more than food' opportunities in the middle of the concrete canvas of downtown. We are always on the look out to add value to our work - to be more than a provider of meals but to go after that immeasurable add-on - the soul part of kitchen. How can we set the table with more than just the consumables?

Our partnership ith More Than A Roof provides so much as our work continually dove-tails. They also want to be more than housing providers - they, too, seek the 'more'. 

The garden under the caring 'gloves' of Nellie is one such project. The housing piece is decorated and made more like a home in the city with the garden on the back porch. It is with a special sense of provision that the greens hit the buffet table. This is now the season again. The run of warm days spelling an early start to summer harvests.

“All for the purpose of creating communities where ‘ people blossom in the city like the grasses of the field’.Psalm 76:16”

Soul Gym

Must be more creative...must be more creative....

Today I pray for a creative spirit to grow bigger in me. I don't want to be dumbed over and numbed down to the real and exquisite beauty that is all around me.  I need your help , O holy spirit, for my eyes have grown accustomed to the gray and my feet are used to treading along the well-worn path.  Lead me down a new road and let me be inspired by beauty.

If 'He has made everything beautiful in its time', then I am on a treasure hunt to find the moment when I can witness the unveiling.  Eccles 3, 11

The Good Neighbour

I take my neighbourhood to mean about a 2 block radius – back, front, left and right.  Like a small square box that defines my part of the city.  These are my people.  My neighbours.  I feel at home as I round the corner past the Salvation Army Thrift shop, past the Gas Station, around the roundabout and then into ‘Kits Yard’ which is home.

Our street changed this last month.  Really changed.  The City of Vancouver striving forward with its plans to create a greener, friendlier landscape, blocked off the top and the bottom of our few blocks so that it is a true cycle-way. The street remains driveable but is harder to access from the two main arterial roads. It creates a quieter, more cyclist and pedestrian friendly zone. More exclusive.  The City has determined that the automobile is not really wanted here – or at least is a ‘second-class’ form of transport.

Our efforts to create safety and a clean environment can come at a communal price. You can’t smoke here. You can’t drive here. You can’t rent this space out. You can’t have pets here. You can’t park here. You can’t cross the street here. You can’t cycle here. You can’t drink alcohol here. You can’t sell anything here.  We are so used to rules.  Defining our behaviour.  Regulations.  In fact, we seem to be creating more and more rules – for the common good?

Our rather quick movement towards a knowledge led society rather than a values or morally led society make these changes something that everyone HAS to know – more that parents will teach their children.  “But why can’t we just knock that wall out and make a bigger play room, Dad?”

Pity those who don’t know. Those who have limited access to knowledge networks and information channels.  “Didn’t you know after this week you won’t be able to use a single ticket to get onto a train – you must have a Compass Card.” How will they find out especially those for whom English is a second language or just don’t connect with media services. 

In some ways education becomes more important now – or at least a basic level in order to learn the rules – and to keep up with the changes.

A neighbour can be someone who distributes information to those around. Not a know-it-all – but someone who connects with others and discusses what is going on around us.  We can’t lose touch with each other or many will be left out of the loop.

-             CONNECT WITH SOMEONE ON YOUR BLOCK THIS WEEK     -

Cooking and sharing with the Poor

In Luke 14 Jesus tells us when you cook a really good meal or banquet then invite the poor, the disabled and the blind and you will actually be blessed.  Dont just invite your friends and family.  

Those listening to Jesus knew that to share a meal or be invited to a meal was to become a friend. Because of the cleansing rituals, it was almost entering into a covenant with another. a special relationship between those at the dining table. 

So Jesus, by suggesting that the meal be shared with those who are struggling and living on the margins,  is asking us to pull down a wall and open up our hearts and our homes to those who have been disadvantaged through poverty or because of a disability.  It is an invitation for friendship with the other as Jean Vanier insists in his excellent little book, Encountering the Other. This is the very heart of the gospel - it moves us from simple generosity and giving towards a more powerful way of entering into relationship with the other.  It dissolves the gap between the giver and the recipient and says 'Come join me at my table'.

I'm Afraid of Me

In 2010 I was ordained.  Ordained as a Pastor, Minister of Religion, Reverend, or member of the clergy. Whatever you want to call it.  To be ordained didn’t seem very significant actually.  It didn’t change anything.  I still did the same tasks, mixed with the same crowd, and cleaned the same house. I struggled for a while. Had I earned it?  At one point I made the decision to just accept it. The small print says that it is indeed a spiritual gift, not of any earthly worth, but given by God in order that I might equip others.

So I began to look instead at honouring the ‘badge’. Ensuring that I represented my ‘uniform’ well. I was to spend time straining to act justly, to love mercy and to try to walk humbly (Micah 6).

Then we moved out of pastoring within a church. We planted ourselves in Vancouver. Here, my pastoral landscape is very different. I don’t serve a particular congregation. I don’t work within the walls of a church. But I have found a new parish. A new set of pews. My parish-in-ers have become more like parish-out-ers.

My pulpit became the street, the bus, my desk, my neighbourhood and anywhere I find myself with other humans.

I have called many of my old practices into question. I am like a Neurosurgeon trained in traditional surgery who now recognises that the key-hole method is the way to go. More organic and gentle. Less brutal. So I am trialling new ways of demonstrating Jesus. Some work – some don’t.   Some believe me, some walk away, some grip my hand and beg me to walk with them.

I have become acutely aware that I am surrounded by a common humanity – we are all in this together.  We are all God’s children – I am just fortunate enough to have been personally introduced – and somehow have sustained a robust belief in the source of that humanity – Christ.  I am called to become deeply affectionate towards all of life.  Called to treasure those that God has made.  Wanting the best for them.  This must be the Love.

The lines in the sand are faint now – I am less sure of who is in and who is out – we are all being pushed forward in this wave of life.  I surely just want to point others towards hope. I want those around me to see the Jesus that I love.

I am, however, afraid of me. Afraid of my own ability to fail in this. I often turn bad. No-one is looking. My tendency is to draw those lines of judgement again.   My religious bigotry lurking nearby. It’s tough. I’m still a pastor.  A very ordinary one.