THE WEEKLY FEAST by Matt Wang

Back at the church I grew up in, we took communion once a month. And I don't think I ever really looked forward to it. 

The elements would be distributed while contemplative (bordering solemn) music played, and the pastor would then declare that this was Christ's body and blood, broken and shed for our sins. At some point after my baptism at 14 years, someone had taught me that communion was a time to reflect on Christ's death, and for my sins which required such a sacrifice. So for as long as I can remember, each communion I bowed my head in silent grief for the countless sins I knew I had committed in the last month (or longer). I tried to dredge up sufficient regret and repentance for my iniquities by imagining how torturous these mistakes of mine had been for Christ on the cross. Then as the offering plate came my way, I quickly gulped the grape juice and swallowed the dry saltine with heaviness in my heart, trying to believe that Christ's sacrifice wasn't all in vain since it felt like I was crucifying him over and over by my stubborn sinfulness. 

I rarely left those particular services feeling any positive emotions, aside from determination to not repeat those same sins over again. But in these past few months with the Fellows, I've been starting to look at communion differently. 

Each Sunday at Church of the Redeemer -- after the praise songs, the readings of the Word, the sermon, the recitation of the Nicene Creed, the prayers, the confession, the peace -- at the very end and climax of the service, the congregation is finally invited to participate in a feast. The members of the body are called up to the front of the room, from their kneeling positions of confession into a tall, bold walk towards the altar. Men and women in both clergy robes and lay-person attire offer me the bread and cup with a knowing smile, as if sharing with me a gift of sweets they had recently enjoyed themselves. The music is bright and joyful, swelling to a roar as the congregation gradually returns to their pews, the warmth of wine still on their tongues that are together exalting God for his mighty work and His anticipated return. And though the celebration is brief, the sweetness lingers as we leave the sanctuary, knowing that we will celebrate once again in just seven days - and ultimately at the wedding banquet, when Christ returns for his bride.

In our Church History course readings, I've learned that Eucharist has been practiced with different emphasis throughout history. The early church saw it as a foretaste of the heavenly joys to come, and in fact celebrated Eucharist with a full meal. (The word Eucharist is in fact literally translated "thanksgiving.") Around the Middle Ages, however, the focus of the service shifted to death, sin and repentance, and the manner of partaking was more akin to a funeral service than a feast. 

My early communion experiences had more of that Middle Age vibe; now, however, I actually feel like the elements are actually nourishing me as "spiritual food" with peace and joy. I haven't made up my mind on exactly what I'm consuming when I take communion, but I can appreciate how a physical, tangible thing like ordinary bread and wine can be of great spiritual value. It allows me to thank God with both my mind and my body for the grace He has provided and is still actively providing. It reminds me of the fullness of joy that will come someday with the fullness of Christ's kingdom, and that I am sharing the same hope of saints throughout the ages. And it is a greater and greater mystery each time I obey Christ's command to "do this in remembrance of me..."

ADVENT REFLECTION by Anne Spooner

Last week, in one of our Fellows classes, we were drawn back to the Magnificat – Mary’s Song. The conversation sparked my interest, and I found myself mulling over the mysterious and complex role of Mary in the narrative of Christ’s birth. Could it be that we have lost some of the radiance of Mary’s life? Within her story there seems to be a promise for the ordinary days behind and ahead of us – that no act is shameful, or even insignificant, when done in obedience.

Surely there is much to be learned from the story of a woman who was chosen at the beginning of time to be the second woman to usher in a climactic shift – one that transferred us from Eve’s death to the life of Mary’s womb. Mary was a normal girl. Joseph was a normal guy. And God chose to come into the world through the projected shame of a teenage pregnancy. Has that ever struck you? God chose what was weak in the eyes of the world – a woman under the power of her family, reputation, and betrothal, to be the conduit of His Word.

The patriarchal structure of the culture at the time of Jesus’ birth was contrary to Mary’s relational and moral agency. The male voice had front and center stage. This was not unintentional on God’s part. Yet, to despairingly claim that the historical narrative is only male dominated is to disgrace and pity the strong female voice that has been speaking for thousands of years. The Christian narrative should be the place this is most clearly seen: it was not Moses who took the first step to free the Jews, but his mother who had faith. It was not Joseph who was asked to carry the physical weight of Jesus, but Mary. It was not men who were asked to first tell of the resurrection, but women. 

Rarely is it mentioned that the Creator of the universe chose a teenage pregnancy to be his first incarnational ministry. A woman was chosen to be the only person in the world God depended on for His development into the Person He would become. Her body, designed to protect, kept Jesus alive. The umbilical cord was not a spiritual reality, but one Mary could tangibly experience as the food she ate grew a Child who would set her free. This freedom was not just from the poverty of choice she most likely faced, but from herself. The widening of her womb and the tearing of her own flesh made the way for Christ. Through the tearing of His own flesh, Christ would rip the curtain that separated us from life. The images of are deliberate. Can you let yourself be awed by them?

What child is this, born in the arms of a teenage girl? This is Christ, who declared Mary’s broken body the instrument for redemption. This is Christ, who would be torn to provide a new way to life, through the blood and narrow way of salvation. This birth is the image we carry into our day. Nothing done in obedience is ordinary; it is all cosmic.

Made Flesh
After the bright beam of hot annunciation
Fused heaven with dark earth
His searing sharply-focused light
Went out for a while
Eclipsed in amniotic gloom:
His cool immensity of splendor
His universal grace
Small-folded in a warm dim
Female space—
The Word stern-sentenced to be nine months dumb—
Infinity walled in a womb
Until the next enormity—the Mighty,
After submission to a woman’s pains
Helpless on a barn-bare floor
First-tasting bitter earth.

Now, I in him surrender
To the crush and cry of birth.
Because eternity
Was closeted in time
He is my open door
To forever.
From his imprisonment my freedoms grow,
Find wings.
Part of his body, I transcend this flesh.
From his sweet silence my mouth sings.
Out of his dark I glow.
My life, as his,
Slips through death’s mesh,
Time’s bars,
Joins hands with heaven,
Speaks with stars.

Luci Shaw, A Widening Light: Poems of The Incarnation

ACT JUSTLY, LOVE MERCY, WALK HUMBLY by Mary Elizabeth Caldwell

The Fellows are taking turns sharing what God is doing their lives as they grow as disciples and leaders. This is from Mary Elizabeth Caldwell (more about her at the end):

The Greensboro Fellows year has provided a great opportunity to wrestle with how faith and work interact. For example, we have been learning about justice and mercy, and how to enact them in our individual lives. 

One weekend in November, the Greensboro Fellows joined 14 other Fellows programs from around the east coast at a conference, where the theme was Micah 6:8: “He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

We learned walking humbly with God is the foundation for doing justice and loving mercy, and justice and mercy are really two sides to the same coin. You can’t have one without the other. The first is essentially making wrong things right, while the second adds compassion on top of it. 

The question posed to each of us: how do we carry out this Micah 6:8 mandate in our own lives? We fellows have done a lot of talking and thinking over this topic, but we also realized we have to act. 

In my own life, Micah 6:8 has played out very practically. For my internship, I have been at Hope Academy, a Christian middle school designed to spiritually mentor and academically boost 5^ththrough 8^th graders in a less-advantaged part of town. At Hope Academy, enacting mercy and justice looks like valuing those our culture says are less valuable based on appearance, age, social status, and/or academic abilities. This means showing them love and attention, learning their stories, beginning to understand their perspectives, seeing them as capable, and getting them to see themselves as capable. 

Over the last few months, I have been slowly learning how to do these things as my eyes are opened to this strong connection between what I believe about justice and mercy and how I live them out. However, the only way I can truly, genuinely do this is with God’s help. The key is that last line of the verse: “walk humbly with your God.” Without humility, priorities and motivations grow selfish, lazy, prideful, or any other similar thing. 

We can’t all change the world, but we CAN impact the situations surrounding us by identifying those areas of injustice and taking steps to right them.

Mary Elizabeth Caldwell graduated with an undergraduate degree in math and masters degree in teaching from University of Virginia. She was a leader in Cru (Campus Crusade for Christ) at UVA, and volunteers with Cru at UNCG in Greensboro. She loves to teach, tutor, mentor, and develop people. She swims for a hobby, and recently competed in a local swim meet. Her stability, wisdom, and kind heart is a gift to us all. 

WE ARE ALL BROKEN by Dodd Drake

"Honey, has no one told you it is ok to be broken? We are all broken. The ones to watch out for are those who don't know it"

Fil Anderson, with Journey Resources, shared with us today (Nov 8) during our "Faith at Work" lunch.  Our Gracious Abba has used Fil in powerful ways in many lives. I am honored to call him a friend. It was refreshing to hear him again. His humility and wisdom was like drinking from a snow fed mountain stream on a hot summer day.

The opening quote is from a wise woman Fil knew years ago. We are all broken. I know I am. The people who do the most damage (including ourselves) are the ones who do not walk humbly because they don't embrace their brokenness.  A vital part of our spiritual growth, and our ability to lead well, is to be aware of our brokenness. This is what draws us to Jesus, and enables us to serve and lead others in His healing love.

Here are some more insights from Fil today:

• There is a difference of living FOR God verses living WITH God. (one is performance based--the other is relationship/abiding based)
• We can be far better at telling others how to be with Jesus than actually being with Jesus ourselves. 
• One of the first ways we minister to others is by listening to others. 
• Be for people...like Jesus. When Jesus told Peter, "You are a rock," he was actually a crumbling mess. It is important we learn to be an encourager, to speak life into others, to call out the good we see in each other.
• "Always have your nose in the Gospels."
• We can learn a lot from St. Benedict and his plan for monastics under his care. He taught four key components for a rhythm of life: 1) Meaningful service and work; 2) Spiritual practices like worship, prayer, scripture reading, solitude and silence; 3) Rest/recreation; 4) Community
• Spiritual disciplines are like "working on your tan." We don't really do much work to get a tan. We put ourselves in the presence of the sun, the sun does the work. The same way with spiritual practices, we put ourselves in the presence of the Son. Transformation is something being done to us, not by us. And this is not just your devotional time, but in all of your life...in all you do...learning to be in the Presence of Jesus Christ. 

I wanted to give a few nuggets for reflection. The wholeness, healing and life we long for is found in God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit. We are all broken. It is ok to be broken. May our brokenness lead us to Jesus with deep hunger and thirst. May we lead others into His healing love. 

Dodd Drake

Director of Greensboro Fellows

The Magic of Experience

By Tressa Czysz

As I look back on the last 8 months, it's hard to find a way to sum it all up. And I think that's okay. Sure, I could make a list of all the fun trips we took, or rehearse our weekly schedule, or even share excerpts from what I've journaled this year, either in church, in class, listening to people's stories, or just reflecting on it all. But for me, the beauty isn't really in the details of what happened or fully captured by the pictures that we took; I think my favorite memories are the ones that were just experienced. It's the things that you couldn't really explain to someone else, those "you had to be there" moments that make other people roll their eyes, that are really special. 

Because every time that someone told a joke, it was the laughter that echoed throughout the room that was worth cherishing, even if I don't remember the joke or how to deliver it.
Closing morning prayer and family dinner with the Lord's prayer and the doxology was special for more than just the words that we recited, but the fact that we all came together and spoke and sang with one heart.  The fruit of week after week of seminary classes was in the conversations that occurred outside and beyond the classroom based on what we had learned and the things that we were wrestling with and trying to understand, and realizing that sometimes the greatest understanding is coming to the conclusion that some things are meant to be beyond our comprehension.  The sweetest part that I've found is having a mentor is sharing life, the ups, the downs, the questions, and the mess; no formula for mentoring will ever beat wholeheartedly welcoming someone into your home week after week to experience life together.

Even as I prepare to leave for Rwanda, I plan to take pictures and to journal about the whole experience, but I also know that there are sights that cannot be captured by a picture, and there are stories and experiences that cannot be summed up in a few journal pages. So much of life is lived in between -whether in the car traveling from place to place, or in the moments that don't seem significant enough to capture in a picture, but that fill all the spaces of our lives. There is a degree to which the best way for me to capture a moment is to just live it, and that is ultimately what I hope to do. Maybe I'll return from Rwanda with a handful of pictures and a few pages more filled up in my journal, but I'll get to look back and say that all things considered, I was present and experienced each portion of the trip to the fullest extent that I could. 

And I will look back on this year as a Fellow, and I will think of all the things that I should have written down, or the pictures that I should have taken, and I'll smile and remember that as I step into this next chapter, the greatest things that I carry with me are the relationships that I've built and the experiences that I've walked through. The pictures and journals stacked on the shelves may be covered in dust and someday lost, but who I have grown to be can never be worn out, faded, or lost. 

Living Different: To Know the Good is to Do the Good

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples,
if you love one another"
- John 13:35

"You are the light of the world.
A city built on a hill cannot be hidden.
Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.
Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.
In the same way, let your light shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."
- Matthew 5:14-16

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:
to look after orphans and widows in their distress
and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
- James 1:27

---

By Tony Nguyen

Through all my Friday morning's reading at Green Joe's, talking scripture and theology on Wednesday morning's, and digesting sermons from Sundays, I have come to realize this truth which has yet to leave my mind since I've began my time in North Carolina:

Life in Christ isn't just meant to be talked about or studied, but lived.

Though there is certainly a place for Christian academia and discussion (coming from a guy who works for biblical/theological scholars), I am making the point that none of that matters unless Christians live radically different from everyone else.

GSO Fellows after Cooper River Bridge 10K in Charleston, SC

Of the several books I've read recently is one by my boss and beloved brother in the faith, Dr. Benjamin S. Wall, titled Welcome as a Way of Life: A Practical Theology of Jean Vanier. Through Dr. Wall's theological appraisal of Jean Vanier and L'Arche,  the Fellows and I have had the opportunity to discuss the notions of welcome, care, hospitality, and what it means to live in community. (If you want to know how those conversations have been, ask me, ask a fellow, Dr. Wall, or better yet, buy the book!)

My point is, now that you, my fair reader, know that my friends and I have wrestled with the ideas of welcome, care, and community, it would be reasonable that you should expect out of any one of us to act in ways that are, to some noteworthy degree, care-full and welcoming (especially to the marginalized).

Furthermore, my hope is not simply that you would have one pleasant interaction with myself or some other who has mulled over such material. As a matter of fact, one act of hospitality alone from myself would make me an utter failure if I am striving to be a welcoming person. Rather, the greater success is, if one were keen to notice, that I would systematically do things in a welcoming, caring, and hospitable fashion over and over. Only then would I or anyone in this example be worthy to be described as virtuously welcoming, caring, or whatever other virtuous quality.

Aristotle puts it more articulately in his Nicomachean Ethics:

Like a craft, "We learn a [virtue] by producing the same product that we must produce when we have learned it; we become builders by building, harpists by playing the harp, just by doing just actions, brave by doing brave actions..." 

Applied to Welcome as a Way of Life, one becomes hospitable by exercising hospitality. Caring by performing actions carefully. Furthermore, one gains empathy for the disabled by being in routine contact with a person with a disablity. Kate Black, who has hosted the Fellows for dinner once a week for the past four years, is a perfect example of someone who is delightfully hospitable and welcoming. Cheers to you Kate!

On the morning of April 17th, Will Dungee, a friend and also pastor of Grace Community Church graciously led us Fellows in a morning devotional on being in step with the Holy Spirit.  He read Galatians 5 and reminded us of the fruits of the Spirit, which are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Again, speaking in the Aristotelian spirit, one becomes loving by doing loving things, joyous by doing things joyfully, gentle by exercising gentleness, etc. Likewise, it would seem the classical Greek philosopher Socrates has convictions similar to those of Christians striving to cultivate Godly virtues. He says:

"To know the good is to do the good" - Socrates

Someone who has become a hero of mine recently and certainly "knew and did the good" is the late Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The Rev. Dr. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor and theologian who lived in the time of Hitler's rise to power during WWII and, in light of his experience with churches in America passionately living out their faith, Bonhoeffer, was convinced he could not be a professing Christian and leave his compatriots to suffer alone in Germany. To that end, he left America to return to Germany where he would, among many great tasks, lead the Church and stand in solidarity with the Jews knowing full well he could die for his faith, which happened on April 9th, 1945 when he was hung at Flossenbürg Concentration camp dying at age 39.

Much earlier than Bonhoeffer did the heroes of the Bible understand that faith in the Lord manifests in the form of calls into obedient action: Moses led the Israelites out of slavery, Jesus' disciples fed the thousands, Peter walked on water, and Jesus himself hung on a cross in faithfulness to the Father.

Fellows and Friends at Lewis Barbecue in Charleston, SC

May I encourage you (and myself, for that matter) to return to the words from Hebrews 11 which recounts the works of those who've gone before us. Alternatively, I exhort you to remember from 1 John:

"We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us
--and we ought to lay down our lives for one another."
- 1 John 3:16

The Gospel, the story of how the God of Israel is revealing to fallen creation His kingship of it through the death and resurrection of Christ, has convinced saints over the millennia to lives extraordinarily peculiar and radical.  That call is still the same for believers today. Drawing from Matthew 5:

• Christians are not to be well-wishers,
  but to be well-bringers.
• We are not called to just want peace,
  but to bring peace wherever or to whomever we go.
• We are called not just to want racial reconciliation,
  but to actually fellowship and do life with brothers of color (or lack thereof).
• We are called both to pray and to be the answer to another's prayer.

"Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven..."

- Matthew 5:12a

Joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit. Christ calls us to act joyfully, that is, in joy. I find that joy is what sets the actions of a Christian apart from any others'. Not only is the Christ follower called to have faith, but he is compelled to show it by his lifestyle and actually is commanded to take pleasure in all he does for God!

How often have I looked back at myself doing something out of obedience but not joy and imagining how grumpy I must've appeared to others.

Now, there are many circumstances which God calls us into that are everything but joyous. I'm not saying we should laugh or smile in the first instances after a loved one dies. It would be abnormal not to express any sort of grief. What I am saying is that in all expressions of faith, it should be with a desire to be satisfied in the risen Lord.

It should bring Christians great delight in doing God's will.

Father Boules George of St. Mark's Church in Tanta, Egypt (one of two which suffered bomb attacks from terrorists this past Palm Sunday) seems to know a thing or two about having joy in the Lord even in the wake of tragedy. Assuming you clicked the link and watched the video, that is an exemplar of the faith God requires.

In closing, know the words of the prophet Micah:

"He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, love kindness,
and walk humbly with your God?"
- Micah 6:8

---

Blessings,
TBN

Growth

By Buddy Hocutt

            In a word, the principle function of the Greensboro Fellows Program is growth. The entire program is structured in a way that fosters growth in a variety of forms: spiritually, professionally, mentally, emotionally, relationally, etc. Internships play a part in that, as do volunteer hours, seminary courses, host homes, mentors, morning prayer, Tuesday dinner, Sunday worship, trips, retreats, and Rwanda.

            That's a lot of stuff to fit into a nine-month program. Each piece functions differently and all to varying degrees of success. They do work in concert, though, because of the one common denominator between them: people. More than anything, the goal of the Greensboro Fellows Program staff is to surround the Greensboro Fellows with the best folks out there; folks who have reached the pinnacle of their profession; folks who have changed the world; folks who have great wisdom; and folks who have made mistakes, learned from them, and prospered.

            I am not one of those people. Granted, my business card does say “Greensboro Fellows Assistant Director...” but that's a bit of a misnomer. Anything remotely related to the word “director” assumes a knowledge and wisdom that I'm not sure I have. It also assumes experience and a certain authority that know I don't have. Yet, somehow, I finagled my way into the position of Assistant Director of the Greensboro Fellows Program and here we are.

            Less than a year ago, mind you, I was a Greensboro Fellows myself, having my mind blown by the wisdom of those best folks out there. How then, and with what, am I supposed to lead a new group of Fellows barely 12 months later? I wish I could say I had some epiphany or that the Holy Spirit spoke through me, but I don't think that's the case (although someone else would be a better judge of that).

            The real answer is that I've been building the plane as I fly and learning a lot of lessons along the way. Ironically enough, the most important of those lessons have come from the very people I (as an “assistant director”) was supposed to be teaching – the Greensboro Fellows, themselves!

            From Tony, I've learned what it means to truly see others as created in God's image.

            From Michelle, I've learned what resiliency looks like in the face of grief.

            From Tressa, I've learned how to take the fullest advantage of the opportunities presented to me.

            From MT, I've learned how to lay my burdens at the cross when the world's pressures mount.

            From Rachel, I've learned to not be satisfied with easy answers.

            From Tom, I've learned to make the best of any situation and always persevere.

            And from Joey, I've learned how to fight against darkness and continue running toward the light.