Two powerful quotes, one is from my latest read by Charlie Angus, from the throwback punk scene, talk then act. The other is tied into a meme/quote of Pope Francis, first you pray then you act. Both speak to a deeper thing about our world, getting off the sidelines, and actively working towards the change you know you are called to. The purpose of one’s life, that deep root that shapes the different moments of vocation in life.
As in Angus’ memoir he shares of the talks with his partner about a house of hospitality, and it stalling in the talk phase, until she calls out the need to act. It is intriguing to be contemplative reading his stories of the early days of Angelus Catholic Worker House, the intersection of his own pop (punk) culture, political justice, and actions. Angus sharing about Dorothy Day (who I encountered in seminary, after a professor shared about her with me seeing my stack of Woodsworth, Douglas (yes CCF & SoCred one), MacPhail, Blaikie, Fox, Spong, Borg to name a few. The starter of houses of hospitality, in Calgary there was an intentional house plant such as this in Bowness for a season in the early 21st Century.
But I digress, the sharing of this arc of his own story, had me reminiscing of my own ministry life. There can be many times when we look back on a life experienced, where, we default to the human condition of what could be better, what went wrong. Or we can look to what the blessings were, what we learned. I had stumbled back into the faith as a young adult, thanks to my Nan, and literally as a biblical illiterate stumbled into a Sunday School, then a youth pastorate, learning and growing, finding my way from philosophy to Alberta Bible College. In the first day of the first youth ministry I planted, brought me with them to the Mustard Seed for our first event, to serve a meal (a kind of mission team building). This wasn’t my first experience in justice or service work, but the staff and guests connected. It was followed up shortly after with a week long ministry as part of my first term in Bible College.
Which led to being a volunteer, and my first night, meeting the advocate, and becoming a volunteer to take some guests to the local Y for activities, and spending Tuesdays there as a volunteer, learning of faith in action in a different way. New mentors, shaping my understanding of what the sacred stories meant. As I walked in learning, it resonated with different stories and teachings around the life of St. Francis. I would have the Mustard Seed intersect my life formally for almost 13 years, a donation drive was the way I kicked off my 2006 Campaign to show my value set of helping, and how different from the value set of my incumbent opponent to be a Member of Parliament.
I was blessed to walk with people, sometimes at birth, baptisms, weddings, heart ache, and joys, walking the end, saving a life, holding them as they transitioned to the next life, celebrating sobriety, celebrating slowing down the substance use, encouraging to begin again, aiding in discovering hobbies, rediscovering purpose, being able to be who they were. Whether it was outreach to encampments, basic services, meals, donations, Street Level, emergency beds, step up housing, transitional housing, to Permanent Supportive Housing. Walking with team members who were paid staff, passionate volunteers, brilliant practicum students (some students discovering their passion, others realizing this was not where their passion was). Some folks in my life for a season, some recycle back through, others becoming friends.
It also led me to be involved with the housing program at the Calgary Drop-In Centre as case worker to manager, still loved connecting with other housing programs as I was fulfilling leadership, but not fully titled and sharing the business card that said case worker. They appeared confused, and truly, what did it matter, it was the work that made the difference, not the title.
My health took me out, and it was hard to process the grieving of loss of vocation, and not having time to fully deal with the health and need to change vocational pass. But it set up a blessing after 20 years, to pivot to teaching, and the first 4 years being involved in equipping new community builders and world changers. Aiding and seed planting (I hope) whether at the community/vocational college or bible college. Discerning not just the theory and skills, but who they were in the scope, where they were meant to be, and how to see the intrinsic value in the one before you.
Or as I would share, and have shared, the Belonging Pyramid designed through my journey. A simple inverted pyramid resting on a heart. The heart is Great Commandments, the top of the inverted pyramid (or easiest) is accessibility, then inclusion, with the hardest being belonging. Being known, being valued, connected in person, worth and purpose.
I look back as I sit and look forward, pondering, as the journey has taken me through monastic and pastoral formation. I journeyed with the Secular Franciscan Order as a place of connection, when I had transitioned to the Third Order, Society of St. Francis when I returned to the Anglican Church to build children and youth ministries for a season. I had transitioned from the Order of Ecumenical Franciscans . Each of these opened up new spiritual directors, and formation for me in living the Gospel of Life, that is trying to live out the teachings…that pesky mulling/contemplating then doing. Three years ago, when I almost lost my son, I renewed connection with my Franciscan roots, through an online community The Franciscan Order of the Companions of Jesus I wish there was a more connected way to be, I have looked to the looked CiM (an Ignatien third order that may allow for face to face but have not heard back). These Franciscan roots started back in my first church as an adult while working at a bookstore, trying to figure out prayer, and finding The Lessons of St. Francis of Assisi by John Michael Talbot that started this over 25 year journey with, as my Dad dubbed them when I was doing vows, the shit disturbers of the church.
I ponder more, and mull, looking to the church itself I was a minister in and what it meant. There was bumpy to downright hurtful times. But in the midst, I was able to be apart of so many blessings of folks lives. Children, youth, young adults and seniors having their aha moments, discovering who they were, sometimes realizing their own worth that no one had ever allowed them to see. Connecting their voice to their choices, and seeing the talk-pray-act in real time. Seeing the mystery, as things flowed into communities in traditions that were not expecting renewal or active youth, seeing neighbourhood youth coming to places of authentic belonging. Whether in churches or youth centres or times of being apart of in school or correction centre mentoring roles.
It is always a unique struggle when asked to identify where I am in the church. I have travelled through many traditions, have certificates, diplomas and degrees from varied spots as well. I have a fondness for my season in the Roman Catholic Church. The Basillians who cared for the parish showed how a community needs to react to remove the barriers of accessibility and inclusion so authentic belonging can happen. Showed that, the miracles like the feedings, were possible to remove financial barriers when risks were taken to build belonging the sin of fear of lack was proven wrong. Whether it was filling food cupboards, toys for children, showers for families sleeping in the church to an elevator for a person with an assist device, the response of belonging through love was there.
Just like in the shelters and housing, when we stopped holding the resources out of fear of running out, and let them flow, we never truly ran out, there was always enough to respond to the need.
I may never have always had treasure to give, but I give time, and stuff, and I hear, sometimes there is talent that is shared. Sometimes it has ended well, sometimes harshly, but when I reflect back, the good outweighs the bad. The lives made better, including my own, are what matters. The opportunities to innovate, to risk, to share life whether in the old school church buildings, para-churches, prisons, dementia wards, hospitals, coffee shops, restaurants or my home as a house church.
These are the foundations; the mentors met and guided by, those walked with, adventures and journeys shared; that built to this moment. Some healing. Some decisions. Next steps, and seeing where next.
As I take time to pray.
Then perhaps talk.
But some of the act is already happening, perhaps you’ve seen or heard or been part of.