Sunday, September 13, 2009

What's In A Name?

For four months a group of us have been "officially" dreaming of church in Strathcona. We have gathered together, we have prayed, worshiped, cared for each other, listened for God and to one another, played and blown bubbles together. We would consider ourselves to be church. You know, the body of Christ, the community of sinners and of saints, the family of God. I don't think that any of us actually doubt that we are a church. The trouble has been that we have not yet settled on a name. So, when we meet people in the neighbourhood and invite them to join us they say, "What's the name of your church?" We usually just refer to it as "Church in the Park". Then we have to explain which park, and since our park has no name, that gets kind of tricky unless you are someone who hunkers under the Georgia Viaduct to get some shelter from the rain or to turn a trick or shoot up lots of people have never really noticed our park. And when we say we have no official name and that we do not meet in a building right now, but under some trees as long as no one is sleeping under the tree we are accustomed to meeting under... well, then we start to get some funny looks and people back away slowly speaking in a soothing voice as though we were a dangerous bear whose irratic religious delusions should be avoided at all costs.

So, we have begun the search for a name in the hopes of lending some outward credibility to what we are experiencing as a beautiful, crazy, unpredictable adventure with the Spirit of the Living God.

Some of us were sent from a church (Kitsilano Christian Community), which has taken it's name from it's neighbourhood. It is a church that seeks to be located in particular geography and is committed to that place and to seeking the peace and welfare of that neighbourhood, not just the well-being of those who participate in the gathered life of that community. They are committed also to the idea of being a community, a fellowship, a people who belong to one another. And their imagination for doing and being these things is rooted in the tradition of Jesus, therefore they call themselves Christian (followers of Christ, a Greek title for Jesus).

But this is tricky for us in this new community because there are lots of different names that tell the story of this neighbourhood. In our 10 blocks by 4 blocks the names Strathcona, the Downtown Eastside, Chinatown, Japantown, The reserve off the reserve, Main and Hastings, or Hogan's Alley all describe aspects of our neighbourhood. What kind of name would speak of this place in ways that welcomes people who would identify with any of those descriptors of our neighbourhood? What name for our gathering communicates our commitment to this geographical space and to our neighbours who live within it? What name says that we are a people who are learning to love God and love our neighbour and that is what we believe it is to be church as opposed to church being the name of the building in which we meet (or not)? What is in a name after all? Footprints of colonization or memories of a history that only remains in place names since the people have moved on?

What is in a name? Stay tuned...

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Kids in the middle

A photo from Kids' Night

When Jodi pitched me the idea about spending a lot of time with kids this summer as part of my role in this new church, I was hesitant, to say the least. Having spent many summers working at a camp in SK, I felt burned out just thinking about doing more kids programming. Surely this was a stage in my life that had ended, and I was ready for more "adult" things.

So it came as a surprise to me when I looked back and realized that some of the most life-giving moments of this summer were spent with children. Some were at the Ray-Cam Community Centre, where, mercifully, the "programming" was done for me, and my only job was to hang out and get to know the kids. I also had some great moments during our weekly Kids' nights at Solheim, as kids of various ages poked their heads out their windows, saw us playing in the courtyard, then came and joined the fun. But most of these great kid moments happened during our Sunday gatherings in the park.

As a church sent to welcome and serve families, we have spent the summer experimenting with "intergenerational" services. I had paid lip service to the idea of intergenerational services for quite a while, but until this summer, I hadn't rightly estimated the cost, or the reward, of doing this.

It is costly. It requires more creativity to think about how kids can best participate in the worship and teaching, a greater investment of energy during the service, and willingness to be flexible when kids are cranky or distracted or when our plans just aren't working.

But the rewards are huge. Adult-oriented worship and teaching times can be inspiring and thought-provoking at the time, but to be honest, I rarely remember them in years to come. But I'm pretty sure I'll never forget the Pentecost service when the kids ran around us with shimmering pieces of red fabric, recreating the wind and the flames of fire that descended on the apostles. Or our refreshing water balloon fight on a hot summer Sunday following our reflection on Jesus as Living Water. Or the kids' entertaining reflections on differences between a "heart of flesh" and a "heart of stone." Also, because the kids join me on bells, maracas, drums and shaky eggs, I'm never the only instrumentalist during worship.

Unforgettable montage of Ezekiel's vision of the four-faced angel (Ezek. 1)

Our series on Ezekiel has been full of "aha" moments as kids pull items out of the "story bag," act out Ezekiel's dreams, and later ask "wondering questions" with the adults. Kids think of questions that adults wouldn't even dream of, and the lessons are so much more memorable when they come through the mouths of children.

Another Vancouver church plant doing intergenerational services posted this quote by John Witvliet on their website recently: "How ironic that children, of all people, should be treated as second-class citizens in the church. Jesus not only welcomed children, but told us that children are our teachers. Children model what true faith is like. When children are cut off or set apart from the worshipping community, both children and adults lose the opportunity to learn from each other."

Calum's drawing of the dry bones being given flesh (Ezek. 37)

It has been a privilege to learn from the kids in our church this summer. We're still experimenting with our liturgy, feeling out what "fits" us as a community, but whatever shape our worship and teaching take in months and years to come, I hope the kids will stay central.