In many ways, we are on the “apostolic edge” these days. I mean we are moving with Jesus into new territory, something like Paul, the Apostle (the “sent one”) telling the Romans: “I make it my ambition to proclaim the good news, not where Christ has already been named, so that I do not build on someone else’s foundation.”
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I think Paul’s idea is this: wherever he goes, Jesus is already there. He is just working with Jesus to make him known. We “name” what people already experience as the presence of God. Sometimes we do it in words. Sometimes we do it just by showing up as individuals and as a community who can be seen, known, and loved. There are many edges of our territory (the place we know, the place we have come to so far) where we border a place where Jesus is not named, yet. That’s an “apostolic edge.” And there are no walls on our border!
Extending the Table of Our Dialogue to Unexpected Places, in Unexpected Ways
The pandemic has extended that “edge” perhaps further than anyone might have imagined. Many churches are doing as much as they can online these days because of the pandemic, and we as Circle of Hope are no different. People are finding our YouTube channel and meeting us there, sometimes for the very first time. Our Sunday Meetings are online, for now, and we offer other opportunities for worship, learning, and connection throughout the week, because “Sundays aren’t enough.” The Circle of Hope pastors have a podcast called Resist and Restore, and it usually begins with them saying that they’re “extending the table of our dialogue” all the way to wherever each of us are listening. In my case, that dialogue extends all the way to Minnesota, and through the online “dispersed” cell I lead of people all over the country, it extends further to Texas, Wisconsin, and Illinois. Here’s a picture of a map I made of where people in my cell live:
Speaking of cell groups, as Circle of Hope our primary point of connection is and always has been through our cells– our small groups of ten or so in which “Jesus is the only agenda.” Cells are not a program we offer in some kind of transactional way. We try not to be transactional, and we don’t really offer programs. As we say in our proverbs, “The church is not a ‘thing’ that does things; it is not a building. We are the church and we support one another as Jesus expresses himself through us.” So cells are something else entirely. Again, as you can read in our proverbs:
– Our cells are the basic components of our living body in Christ. In them, Jesus is our “agenda.”
– Our cells are the primary place where we help one another grow as disciples, face to face.
Our pastors have been saying that our church was made “for such a time as this.” Because of COVID, in-person gatherings remain unwise, though the vaccines give us hope that may change soon if the country can get enough people vaccinated before the virus variants take hold. This inability to gather in person is a challenge for most churches, especially those program-based churches whose life is centered on a building and what happens in it. Circle of Hope has buildings too and they offer much to the communities in which they are rooted, but they are not the center of our life together. Being a cell-based church, we could exist without buildings and would still be able to connect with one another, be who we are, and do what we have been given to do. If Jesus is the lifeblood of our church, maybe cells are the arteries that bring that life to all the parts of our body. They’re certainly the way that our body grows, and this is still happening during COVID, even though cells are for the most part meeting over Zoom or other virtual platforms. What a blessing that we aren’t having to pivot away from a program-based, transactional way of “doing church” in a building in order to try something new during the pandemic. We are trying some new things, but we already know how to be the church together in an unprogrammed way outside of a building. Thank God!
Not Just Where to Be, but Who To Be
When my wife and I rejoined Circle’s covenant from all the way in MN in the fall last year, our pastor Jonny said we were out here on Circle’s apostolic edge. Since then, we’ve been working through what that means for us. One thing it has meant is that we’ve felt a real tension between the physical space we occupy in the Upper Midwest, and the life we’re experiencing together with the rest of Circle of Hope in Philadelphia. Right now most meetings are happening online, but what will it look like when in person gatherings are possible again? So we’ve felt a real yearning to also be physically present with the rest of our Circle of Hope family in Philly, and as I wrote in my last post, we’ve been discerning what to do about that. This discernment has been about where to live, sure, but also about what kind of people we want to be, wherever we might live. I think in short that we want to be “Circle of Hope people.” We want to be Jesus-centered. We want to live into alternativity as we embrace life together, immersed in Circle’s cell-planting movement. I’ve long talked about following Jesus by resisting capitalism, violence, and individualism, and Circle has held space for that kind of life for far longer than I’ve been talking about it. It’s no wonder then that we’ve reconnected with Circle during the pandemic, and we are very, very grateful. Likewise, it’s no wonder that we feel drawn to be back in Philly again with the rest of Circle of Hope, and have been actively discerning about making such a move.
So as I mentioned, my last post dealt with this discernment process we’ve been engaged in. A move back to Philly would be our third such move as a married couple, first one as a family with kids, and fourth one for me individually. I said in that post that we were approaching this decision in very uncharacteristic fashion, that is slowly and hopefully in a more communal way, with conversation partners beyond ourselves. We know that when we do almost anything by ourselves, we often do worse than if we had acted in community. We are made for community after all. We are made for mutuality, and as Jesus-followers, for being the church together. Our lives are not our own. We belong to each other, and to Jesus. So we didn’t want our decision making process about moving back to Philly to be driven by the same old impulses, impulses rooted in trauma, individualism, scarcity, and need. Instead, if being in physical proximity to the rest of Circle of Hope in Philly again represents a move toward the community that we are made for, we wanted our steps leading up to such a move to be rooted in community too. Our conversation partners have been very helpful in this regard, and we are grateful to them. Along the way I’ve realized, with the help of the writing of Richard Rohr and others, that I was trying to get this decision “right,” in very “first half of life” fashion. So I began to wonder what a “second half of life” approach to this decision might be, and that led me to ask questions like, “Is there a gift God might have for us in this? Might moving to Philly and the physical proximity to the rest of Circle of Hope that such a move would afford be such a gift?” I realized then that holding space for these kinds of questions might be the fertile soil in which an answer might grow, if well tended, like a garden. Notice I said an answer, not the (“right”) answer.
When the Time is Ripe, We Hope We Are Too
And over time, an answer has emerged. The truth is that we do feel called to be in Philly, physically close to the rest of Circle of Hope. We’ve already made covenant with Circle again. Circle of Hope is our church. They are our people, and we want to be near them. We are “Circle of Hope people” already. So the only thing questionable for us about moving to Philly is when to make our move, not if. We’ve also thought about our desire to get as “small” as we can, to live in a way that outwardly reflects our stated values of generosity, sharing, simplicity, and abundance. This was especially salient because we had an opportunity this coming summer to rent a Philadelphia house that dear friends of ours own. This possibility made abstract thoughts about making this big move very real and concrete. Our friends’ house is in a neighborhood that is much less affluent than the one we currently live in here in MN, and not coincidentally, much less “white” as well. We’ve talked for a while about wanting to be in solidarity with those that live on the underside of our privilege, and we’ve known that solidarity requires proximity. So moving not just back to Philly, but particularly to our friends’ house in Philly, presented us with a rare chance to really live like we say we mean to. We began imagining what our life would be like there, in that neighborhood. I think we hoped to occupy that “small” space in, as much as we could, a “small” way. We would want to be there hopefully just to love and be loved by those around us there as we do life together as neighbors. We would hope to be humble there, not imagining ourselves to be “white saviors,” but simply desiring to learn from our neighbors and share in their lives.
This begged some questions, though. After all, we have neighbors right here. We’ve cultivated relationship with a few of them and with one in particular it might be said that there’s an extent to which we’re “doing life” together, but there are others that, truth be told, we don’t like very much, and probably more than a few around us that if we knew them at all we might feel similarly toward. We’ve experienced some of our current neighbors to not be very welcoming to people who aren’t “white.” We’ve seen a Trump sign or two around. We might even go so far as to unintentionally categorize some of our current neighbors as “enemies.” Again, this begs questions:
- Aren’t we supposed to love our enemies?
- How can we move into a poor Black neighborhood in order to love and be loved by our neighbors there- who would be different from us in many, many ways- when we can’t or won’t love our actual, mostly “white” neighbors right here and right now, simply because we might hope that we’re somehow different from them? In other words, we have to wonder how wise it would be to move into a poor Black neighborhood in Philly as what you might call “failed” Minnesota suburbanites. We regularly hear Black folks telling “white” people who want to do anti-racism work to basically get their own house in order. Learn their history. Talk to their own people. So we had to wrestle with whether or not we might be skipping out on the work we have to do right here, right now- work that generally speaking Black folks are asking “white” folks to do, because we prefer to do what might seem to be more glamorous work, but which we aren’t actually being asked to do.
- The truth is, there’s an extent to which we may not like some of our neighbors here because they look and act like us, and we may not like ourselves here very much. Wouldn’t it be wise, then, to learn to love and accept ourselves, wherever we happen to be now, in all our belovedness, and then out of the wellspring of that love, move to where we feel called, to be close to our loved ones there?
So, then, if we want to get to Philly at some point and be loving neighbors to whoever is around us, we know we have urgent work to do in preparation for that now. Like it or not, we need to work on loving these neighbors here, especially if we don’t like some of them. If we think in a close-knit rowhouse community in Philly we might share resources and live in a genuinely neighborly way, why don’t we start practicing that now with our real neighbors here instead of holding out for our imagined ones there? So, we’ve decided to embrace the good gifts God is already giving us. Thanks to the accelerated use of video technology and other online tools brought on by this terrible pandemic, we are already living a deeply connected life as part of Circle of Hope now, right where we are in MN. We are covenant members, and are in a cell which I am grateful to lead. We share resources, even from a physical distance. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel like I’m “in” the Circle of Hope, centered on Jesus, and for this I am grateful. I and my family want to be geographically close enough to share more deeply “in real life” when the time is right, but for now we are resolved to keep learning, practicing, and preparing for that time, whenever it may be. Perhaps the time will be ripe for moving back to Philly in a couple of years, when our oldest son graduates high school. We hope that by then we will be “ripe” for such a move too, as we continue to develop and grow. For now, we are glad to be on Circle of Hope’s apostolic edge, living as Circle of Hope people right where we are. Who knows what God might do with our continued presence here and what seeds might be planted as we hold space here. Maybe something beautiful will grow. That would be pretty edgy.