Marking Time

As I go off to teach at an inner city grade school (today’s the first full day of class), where I stick out like a sore thumb, here’s a reminder below that it’s okay to feel like a man “in exile” now and then.

[Note: this is a cross-posting from something I put up at a simple desire, a Mennonite scripture commentary blog for which my friend Will invited me to do entries now and then. Click the link on my blogroll to see what's going on over there, and to get a little espresso shot of scripture while you're at it.]

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“Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” –Jeremiah 29:7

 The hustle and bustle of a big city, and the difficulty of finding community and connection in that city or metropolitan area, can cause anyone to feel a bit “exiled” these days.  It’s a paradox. We’re surrounded by people, but still feel we’re on our own. Our society talks about this dilemma as “falling through the cracks”, “keeping up in the rat race”, “looking out for number one” –all harsh images implying that life is a gauntlet one must run, and run alone. 

This Jeremiah passage reminds us that a life of faith in this context is in fact a challenge. Not a challenge to entirely disengage from the needs and values of our society, but to be a beacon of hope within that society. While I’m no fan of the “prosperity gospel”, in which some believers take passages like this to spiritualize a very earth-bound materialism (”I know God loves me, just look how He’s prospered me!”), I also do not believe God endorses economic poverty as having any virtue in itself. God is still the God of abundance. He just wants everyone to share in that abundance.

Thus, in His eternal concern for justice and peace, God has regularly “carried” us into these complex relationships with people from other communities–even competing communities. We cannot easily demonize our enemies if we still have to go on living among them. By sharing circumstances with non-believers, and especially by serving those who do fall through the cracks, Christians create a witness to another way of living, freedom from want and freedom from the yoke of materialism. The good news of Jesus is not that we can’t own anything, it is that we don’t have to define ourselves by the level of our wealth and prosperity.

To be employed, to make plans for the future, to want social stability: these are all good things. While still recalling Jesus’ advice not to worry about tomorrow, we need to pray that, for today, we can make friends across traditional boundaries of race, class, geography and the other “foxholes” that push people apart, all of which keep us in fear of the interdependence God demands in order to live the kingdom way.

“We don’t need no… education. We don’t need no… thought control. No dark sarcasm in the classroom.” -Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2; Pink Floyd, 1979

The school year starts this week for many grade schools and high schools nationwide. And let me be the first (this year, at least) to say we definitely do need sarcasm, or at least an appropriate sense of humor, in the classrooms of America. (I’d go insane without it.) As for the other two needs, I’m a teacher, so I’m at least committed to the principle that kids do need an education, as well as needing training in self-discipline (not the same as thought control, but indirectly related). I’m not always sure I’m the best guy to provide it, but here I go again, giving it a try.

I can be a mess sometimes: utterly disorganized, a terrible procrastinator, a poor listener, unconcerned with “the facts”… all living proof that a lack of self-discipline can be a real burden. On the other hand, I have plenty of empathy for my students, especially the ones who –due to either their own nature or the models they’ve had in their homes– struggle with the same problems. Luckily I’m not teaching in subject areas that require a high amount of structure, because I’d totally screw that up.

This year I’m teaching P.E. to K-8 students at Chicago Mennonite Learning Center, in addition to the Fine and Performing Arts I taught last year. Though the lesson particulars are not all clear, and though there may be a few clumsy moments when I try something that just doesn’t work, I think that bridging the two curriculum areas is actually a good idea. They’re both big parts of our modern culture. In the era of High School Musical’s  singing jocks, and Olympic swimmers posing nude in Playboy, we can’t pretend anymore that there isn’t a lot of crossover and confusion between the values and ideals of the entertainment industry and those of the sports world.

Plus, there’s a few natural similarities: both arenas often involve a trade-off between team efforts and individual talent/roles (team=troupe=band… and if you’re U2 or the Black-Eyed Peas, you may even be playing in the same arena that the local pro football team played in yesterday!). Both fields also require good communication, much practice, and decent social skills in order to excel (though I admit the social skills of some stars, in both fields, sheds doubt on this last point). Both reward creativity, adaptability and improvisation. And both are, ultimately, about self-expression through brain and body, and the opportunity to shine.

The advantage of teaching at a Christian school is that I can go a bit farther in teaching about many of the key values that come into play in both areas: fairness, following the rules, honesty, healthy competition, practice, responsibility, unselfishness–things like that. Sure, those are values that any teacher is trying to convey. Still, I’m glad I have the solid moral backing of thousands of years of church teaching to supplement my lessons (for example: “let us run with perseverence the race marked out for us”, as St. Paul once wrote). And Jesus, puzzling though he is at times, is the Great Teacher, as well as an eternally enthusiastic spectator, and the perfect “involved parent”.

I also think He’s a good coach, theater director, referee and storyteller, but maybe that’s just me.

School is IN!!! Don’t be late to class, kiddies.

It’s 1am Sunday, I’m in Wisconsin, and I can’t sleep.

I could blame it on the full moon… I’ve always been oddly energized when it’s full. But that’s not it.

I could blame it on the loudmouths out on the lake somewhere, still whooping it up. But I didn’t hear them until I got out of bed and came into the family room, by the open back door. So that’s not it either.

Here’s the problem: I’m up late thinking of an old friend, who I’m worried about. Thus I am slightly envious of this boat party (probably just 3-4 young, carefree goons on a pontoon), because they remind me of wild times in my own youth, with the aforementioned old friend.

He’s been avoiding me for about a year now, because I made the mistake of lending him money, and he couldn’t handle the repayment plan we agreed on. So now he’s ashamed. Again. This guy’s had a rough life, and made some choices he’s not proud of. But I never gave up on him.

I’ve considered forgiving the debt, but I suspect this would not be the best thing for him. I have another friend who went through Debtors Anonymous, who did manage to gradually repay me on an even larger loan, taking several years to do so. So the victory in this second friend’s life –the chance to say, “I did it. I’m dependable.”– is the same victory I want for the first guy.

Tonight I was up rehearsing what I’ll say to Friend #1 when I track him down. (He goes “in the wind” for extended periods, but we always reconnect.) I wonder if the repayment plan I drafted didn’t give him enough time to get back on his feet. I wonder if he even wants to call me, but can’t face another mess he feels bad about.

But mostly I just miss my friend. If I could have him drinking a beer with me on my little bass boat next month, both of us laughing about something exceedingly juvenile, I’d forgive him his debt (and forgive the pain he caused by blowing me off, by losing control of his life again).

Friendship is more precious than money, without a doubt. But money makes us lose sleep. Ain’t that a bitch?

Is it silly for me to worry about what I might accidentally say on my blog, or who I am linking to, because maybe someday a reporter or employer or enemy will throw it back in my face and ruin my reputation? What if I want to run for political office? How careful do we have to be nowadays, if we’re not going to just sit still and say nothing?

For example, a phrase I used in the title of one of my posts back in the spring just happens to share a name with a very disreputable site. Aw heck, let’s just say it… a porn-related site. (No, really? There’s porn on the internet?) I didn’t know this at the time I wrote my post. My own post had nothing to do with porn. I just thought I was changing a few letters around and making a clever pun. But now I’ve had a few months of Googlers (I suspect), who when they key the phrase in, see my post come up in a list with other stuff more directly related to that no-no site, and they stray over by me for a look-see. (They’re probably disappointed and run away quickly, though… I have a terribly unsexy physique…)

Or remember when rabid anti-kiddie porn crusader Pete Townshend of The Who got caught in this bugaboo of guilt by association a few years ago? By doing research, by not looking away, he was pegged by authorities as a habitual consumer of the stuff. No conviction, not even a trial… just alot of damaging controversy. As an artist and private citizen trying to root out the true guilty parties (or at least achieve some healing of his own painful past), I genuinely believe Pete got shafted on that one.

I’ve also heard inklings of criticism lately about situations where website #1 links to #2, which #1 has no control over, but thought trustworthy… only to find themselves accused later that the #2 buddy-site is “just one click away” from some neo-Nazi screed or other venomous material, perhaps buried deep in a forum somewhere. Well excuse me, but isn’t the whole point of the internet that we start out six degrees of Kevin Bacon away from each other, only to see these weird connections grow, in ways beyond our control? Sometimes it’s fascinating to find you are part of a network that you formerly didn’t even know existed. But if you occasionally get caught in an unwanted web as well, what can you do about that?

Sure, it does matter who you hang with, digitally speaking. I’m not saying it doesn’t. There are good reasons I don’t have Rush Limbaugh or some death metal band as part of my WordPress blogroll on the right. I’ll always be judged to some extent on the company I keep. Unfortunately, the most vocal free-speech advocates nowadays tend to be the ones trying to rationalize and get attention for their own particular brand of sensationalistic crap. In movies, literature, journalism, music, in any cultural product really, a work is not automatically high quality just because it takes some risks or pushes the outside of the envelope.

Yet I also hope to remain openminded enough to hear out somebody that I don’t completely agree with. For example, I’m probably not as liberal as many of the folks at Neil Young’s Living With War site over on my blogroll, but it’s still material I feel is worth looking at. On the other hand, I’m not a public tv network. I don’t have to give equal time to all perspectives. Any good writer or editor will tell you their role is not ultimately about using or limiting free speech, its about exercising good taste and good sense.

If the whole recent Michael Vick thing has reminded us of anything, it’s this (a great line form an old They Might Be Giants song, Your Racist Friend) :

“You can’t shake the devil’s hand and say that you were joking.”

But what if you didn’t know it was the devil? (And in case anyone misinterprets what I’m saying, let me be clear: Michael knew. Don’t be “like Mike”, kids.) The devil is always lurking out there somewhere, after all, trying to trip us up. Deception is his whole game. In the new wild west of the internet, how can I keep from being gunned down by any hack with a keyboard?

While driving home from my mother’s last weekend (an hour’s ride that I’m pretty bored with after 20+ years), I proposed a radical idea to Sue. Now I want to see if it will get any traction on a national basis. The idea: a complete one-year moratium on all road construction, on both highways and local roads.

Whadya think?

I realize that in crowded northern climates like the Chicago metro area, thanks to winter weather and big brutal trucks in particular, roads can get pretty bad over time. So maybe it is work that has to be done. But does it always have to be done? Once every three miles, from April to November? Will a road with two lanes ever leave both of those lanes open for a full five-year stretch, or are our “developments” and civic ambition too compulsive, as we chase the illusion of a perfect infrastructure? Plus, who’s paying for all this road/sewer/tollbooth construction? Any chance we can improve our schools with that money, or get better medical coverage for our citizens instead?

There’s a biblical concept called the jubilee year, where the whole society just decides to give each other a break, in various ways, for a year. So I’m just saying, when is my car’s jubilee? Who do I talk to if I want to say “No more stripmalls, please”? Why is “new home construction” the gage so many people use to measure societal health?

Finally, just so I’m not coming across as utterly whiny today, let me say I am in favor of one kind of construction: Legos. Check out this amazing artist, Nathan Sawaya, who does great life-size sculptures out of Legos:

To see more of his work, check the CNN gallery.

So cool. (Saw Nathan on the Colbert Report, of course… he refers to the work above as a “self-made man”…)  I wish we could build all our buildings, and roads, and cars, and everything else, out of Legos. Even though the stuctures would be more fragile, wouldn’t that just encourage us to be a lot less brutal in our treatment of the earth? Plus the plastic roads wouldn’t get potholes nearly as quickly.

It’s my birthday today, August 20th. I’m 42 now. You nerds and fans of odd British sci-fi out there – in other words, those familiar with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy — will see the significance of that number.  

42: the book’s tongue-in-cheek answer to that age-old question, “What’s the meaning of life?” I still don’t get it, mostly –neither life, nor the joke.  But I figure I have at least a year now to figure it out. Maybe by next August I will see it all clearly… finally wise, walking in the power of God, at peace. (Or else I’ll just continue to slide into middle-aged oblivion, though perhaps my current terror and anger will fade into a steady, seen-it-all kind of calm.)

It will probably also take a year to fully understand and build upon the milestone reached by my spiritual home for the past twenty years: Reba Place Church (which recently celebrated its own 50th birthday).

I’ve had a sense recently –not necessarily prophetic, but a hunch based upon recent events and conversations– that this will be a time of transition for my church. We’re just due, know what I mean? Due for a stretching, a difficult but necessary period of change, to lay the groundwork for a new work of God. It’s one of those cyclical things in life. I’ve lived through several such transitional periods with this particular body of people, enough to recognize some of the trends.

If nothing else, as a socio-politically engaged congregation, it stands to reason that we will be pressed to respond to the obviously big changes in presidential, economic, environmental, security and other worldwide situations {click for a 2005 Eastern Mennonite University article on the post-war context of Reba’s founding}. Past heroes  like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Desmond Tutu have taught us this much: that if the church is of no use in times of  local, national and worldwide crisis — if we can’t be witnesses and demonstrate the Jesus Way of looking at these matters, of leading God’s children in a better direction – then we may as well pack it in. It’s easier to hide in some safe, self-serving foxhole of dated programs and bad theology, waiting out the storm, detached from the very God who seeks us in our wandering and hiding.

But I don’t think we’ll do that at Reba Place. It would be a betrayal of our roots, of the courageous, good work done by many people over these fifty years (through God, who strengthens us, of course).

And so finally, let’s wrap up my four-part review/retrospective of the 50th anniversary celebration on a positive note. As always, it’s just one man’s slightly warped opinion, not the official line, and probably contradicting the experience of many of my beloved friends. All I can offer is my own perspective. I must leave it to others to offer expertise.

In no particular order of importance, here are a few lasting impressions, now two-plus weeks after the fact. I’ve already talked about the big Saturday night music, dance and multimedia presentation — the blessing of that is a given. These below are perhaps some of the less obvious but still valuable parts of the weekend:

–The hilarious circa-1974 Reba/household-era fashion show, featuring the hand-embroidered men’s dashiki and the ragged, colorfully patched jeans for women (with a peasant blouse, of course) that have ironically come back into style. If we can’t laugh at ourselves, not just our “back then” selves but our current foibles, we won’t get very far.

–Excerpts from the letters of Louise Miller, circa 1957 and 1958, as read by her daughter. These letters or diary entries offered real details and emotions that gave us a genuine sense of the risks and rewards of stepping out in faith, in a way that flies in the face of the prevailing cultural winds.

–The Ministry Center Exhibition Rooms: If you missed these well-executed displays of photos, artwork, videos, music, and artifacts from various ministries over the years, you probably didn’t get a complete picture of what the de-centralized, multifaceted RPF/RPC community has always been about: creativity and courageous service to each other and the community around us. 

– Frank admissions by the leaders presenting for 1977-87 and 1987-97 that we didn’t get everything right. Sally Schreiner gently confessed there had been heavy-handed pressure put on people to conform. Bob Shuford set the stage for the challenge of our re-formation in 1987-97 by saying that leading a congregational cluster– while the purpose and identity of those groups remained fuzzy– was like “herding cats”. Not all of the historic topics of disagreement were touched upon (the role of pentecostal/charismatic gifts, our stance on the interpretation process or inerrancy of the Bible). Also, some of the real blessings and contributions of the mid-period decades (my generation, if you will) were underplayed. But still it felt right to “confess” that we’re only human, and sinners at that. People feel burned when groupthink gets out of hand, or in the confusion and temporary vacuum of trusted leadership when structural change happens. Better to learn from it, forgive and move on, and to keep experimenting and tinkering, than to sit still and bear no fruit as the world passes you by.

–A fine, professionally catered dinner by candlelight, under a big tent in nearby Eiden Park. In both the food quality and the logistics, it was a model of efficiency and ingenuity– a welcome change-of-pace from the homey but sometimes clunky (and often exhausting) ”do-it-yourself” methods the church has taken toward feeding itself over the years. There are times when money just has to be spent, and plans carefully created. Some smart choices and big sacrifices were made in pulling off the two common meals we ate together. (Many thanks to all who did the work.)

– Current Pastor Ric Hudgens’ passionate Sunday morning wrap-up message, in the context of sharing the Eucharist. {Click to listen again… it runs under 15 minutes.} It was about forgiveness, freedom from co-dependence, relieving each other of burdens, and most of all about letting God’s all-consuming forgiveness and love really sink in and change us as individuals and as a body… letting God break or carry our burdens, thus giving us a future. Jubilee, the idea of forgiving very real debts and starting over every fifty years, was the perfect theme for the whole weekend. Despite being an obvious choice, Ric’s perceptive, organic approach to the topic, and his deep yearning for authentic faith, healing, and growth, inspired us all to a strong hope for the future.

I could go on, but I won’t. Old friends were greeted. A few new friends were made. Songs were sung and dances were done. Individual or group contributions were both praised and (unfortunately) ignored. Children were fawned over and entire careers were recalled. As we used to say back in college: God showed up. Three loaves and two fish were turned into fifty amazing years.

May the spiritual food of God, shared together, strengthen us for the next fifty.

I will wrap up my reflections on Reba Place Church’s 50th anniversary celebration shortly, hopefully tomorrow. Meanwhile a few of the links below –notably to a recent WTTW broadcast and to last week’s Tribune article on the reunion – will give a broader, outside-the-fold perspective for those who wish to have it, and link readers to several other like-minded ministries.

So consider this post just another experiment,  an amusing interruption…

My apologies to Paul Simon for ripping off his song title above (Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover), and for twisting it around. It’s just that it struck me today how this singer-songwriter’s varied career parallels developments at Reba Place Church, and in American culture, over the same fifty year period. I was quite moved earlier this summer by the star-studded PBS special featuring Mr. Simon, in which he received the first-ever Library of Congress Gershwin Prize for Popular Song. 

Hopefully without overstating my case too badly, here are three fundamental Simon-RPC similarities, which put my own creative spin on this church’s history, in a broad social context:

1) Origins: Both Reba Place [click for 8/10/07 Tribune article on RPC] and Simon & Garfunkel started their influential work in 1957. Recording as Tom & Jerry, S&G had their first hit in 1957 (a No. 49 single on the pop charts called ”Hey Schoolgirl” ). This was the same year that John Miller and other Mennonites started their Evanston house church. As Eisenhower’s America then gave way to the turbulent Sixties and beyond, the social conscience and loss of innocence exhibited in the folk music renaissance could also be seen in places like Evanston’s Reba Place and Chicago’s Jesus People movement (originators of the still-blossoming Cornerstone music festival). These were people who took the world-changing words and ideas of Jesus seriously and sought to radically put them into practice, especially in relation to the poor in our midst. Reba’s efforts over the years in the name of affordable housing, peacemaking, civil rights (both here and abroad), homelessness, education, mental health, disability-awareness, racial reconciliation and Christian service have been far-reaching, and at times quite costly –from a spiritual standpoint as well as a monetary one [click for Real Player viewable video of a recent WTTW/PBS story on communal living in Reba Place Fellowship, a significant core ministry to which RPC owes its roots] .

2) Global Vision/Cross-Cultural  Celebration: As early as “El Condor Pasa” (a traditional Andean folk melody used by Simon in 1970), Paul led the way in the growth of “world music”. With influences coming from South Africa, South America (especially Brazil), Jamaica, black gospel music, Cajun zydeco and other traditions, Simon led the way in expanding both America’s musical vocabulary and our concern for justice. At roughly the same time, Reba Place was finding and using similar music in a worship context, such as the South African song “Oh Freedom”, sung in heavy rotation during the late 1980s (and reprised wonderfully by Lois Shuford and others at our recent celebration). Other international traditions, like the songs of Taize, have also been a steady influence on our life together – as have the sustained international ministries RPC church members have worked with in El Salvador, Colombia, South Africa, Angola, France (through L’Arche), Israel/Palestine, Iraq (through Christian Peacemaker Teams), Iran and other far-reaching locales.

3) Transitions, & The Courage Not To “Settle”: Whether parting ways with Art Garfunkel (somewhat amicably, but not without conflict), facing personal struggles and poor health (Simon reportedly was near death a few years ago with an infection or illness), or doggedly pursuing a vision through periods when he was out of step with the mainstream (1983’s excellent but little-known Hearts & Bones sold poorly… a frustration that led to the inventive departures of Graceland), Simon has conscientiously pursued a course that sought to elevate humanity while still staying true to himself and his unique artistic vision… his “gift” or “calling”, if you will. Similarly, Reba Place Church has maintained its distinctiveness and independence through both booms and lean years. We have redefined certain structures and practices, maturing and broadening our scope, sometimes messing up along the way, even as we tried to stay true to the original vision and calling God put on the hearts of our founders (and on earlier ”heroes of the faith”, especially Mennonites and others who also sacrificed, or flew in the face of the mainstream, both Christian and secular).

Mennonites and Anabaptists like to call that hard road “The Third Way” (Roman Catholicism and historical Protestant movements being the first and second ways). Of course, it would be foolish and prideful to assume that the manner in which RPC has walked that road is the only way, or even the best way, just as it would be foolish to claim that Paul Simon is the only artist representative of growth and social change in America over these fifty years. Nevertheless, the beauty of how the Holy Spirit has guided a group of like-minded but imperfect believers, over rough terrain, is one of those sacred mysteries that points toward the unity and grace we will experience in heaven. Music itself is a hint of that grace and mystery as well, in how it uplifts the human spirit. I’ll let Mr. Simon make the point for me, as he put it in an interview when he received the Gershwin Award:

 ”That’s one of the challenges as you get older. It isn’t ‘How am I going to have a hit?’ but ‘How am I going to express myself as clearly as I can while at the same time leading people into a mystery which is always entertaining and possibly moving as well?’ That’s what I’m interested in. I want to know about the mystery. Then I have to think: ‘Do I solve this mystery, or do I just embrace it because of the pleasure of the mystery?’ That’s the mystical.”

Yesterday I gave an overview of Reba Place Church’s history as a guinea pig for every religious movement to impact American Christianity in the past 50 years.

Not that we’ve rushed in where angels fear to tread (though in a few cases we did). Let’s just say this particular church was always a little experimental, a place for risk-takers, open to new gifts as they were identified.

So many gifts were allowed to develop, and so many people blessed (or challenged) by them, that the anniversary event last weekend barely scratched the surface in revisiting both the good and the hard times. A team of oldsters and newcomers worked hard to touch all the bases, logistically, religiously and “politically”. Over 400 people will likely tell you they (we) got it right… mostly. Sure, stuff got swept under the rug a bit, but given that it was a celebration and not a work of journalistic brilliance, that was inevitable.

And this blog cannot hope to encapsulate the essence of the three-day event, either. So we’ll have to settle for a few quick hits–the highlights, if you will.
[Note: Limited space here today... check tomorrow for more.]

#1 -The Saturday Night Music/Dance/Multimedia Program -it’s hard to argue about a good tune or graceful choreography, so this was a no-brainer. Home-grown liturgical dances & songs to help our spirits soar; the music of Jim Croegaert, plus a handful of other exotic worship songs, the Racial Reconciliation gospel choir, and Reba Praise (our talented current team, led by Helen Hudgens); a retrospective slideshow with music (which I built from mostly borrowed photos … not my best work, but good enough, especially when supplemented by pro photographer James Ewing’s contributions from the early 70s to the late 80s); a very sweet ‘In Memoriam’ slideshow by the Hoveys; and capping it all off, a new presentation of Croegaert’s “Creation”, a complex, moving, 25+ minute choral cantata, with nature photos by Mr. Ewing and a blend of highly creative old and new choreography).

[More to come!]

I’m resting up, after the glorious tornado that was the Reba Place Church 50th Anniversary Celebration.

I served as point man for the tech and A/V portions of the program, which ran Friday night and all day Saturday, culminating with a music, dance, and multimedia extravaganza on Saturday night. In the absence of a stage manager, I ended up filling that role too: keeping the machinery oiled and all parties on one page. Though it all came out fine, it was hard for me personally, as I must begrudgingly admit I do not bear the weight of such wide-ranging responsibilities very comfortably–especially the tedious tech itself. To paraphrase a Mark Heard song, covered admirably by Buddy Miller, “I worry too much.”

As for the event itself, I think generally the people attending considered it a success, a chance to celebrate the past and take stock of the present. Yet it was very hard to accurately tell the complex story of this officially Mennonite, recently Emergent, evangelical-leaning, communal hippie-influenced, racially reconciling, ecumenical and oft-conflicted congregation (originally a small house church and Voluntary Service unit on a street called Reba Place).

With such widely divergent people and priorities over the years, many times it seemed the only things we could agree on –in our theology, social teaching, discipleship models and worship practices– was that Jesus is good for the world, singing is good for the soul, and food is good for the body (and also the Body… nothing like a few thousand potlucks to create an intimate community life). After that, the workings of this influential institution have been all over the map: from Old Mennonite to mainline Protestant to pentecostal to megachurch charismatic to Catholic & Episcopal, plus a lot in-between. We were at turns both radically liberal and biblically and socially conservative… yet all unified somehow by the love of Christ.

In other words, it’s one of the biggest, floppiest tents ever!

Tomorrow: I name names…