For a long time the first description people saw on this blog or on our facebook group was that we were a project – an experiment seeking to live together in community. For as long as that description had been proclaiming itself to the world, I had been feeling slightly uncomfortable with that declaration. Was it that seemed to provide a disclaimer to the end result? If this all crashes and burns – hey, it was just an experiment.

Len, the caretaker of the building responded this way to our wording, “I don’t look on it as an experiment, I think it’s going to be an interesting change.” As we come to the close of our third week of renovations, there are many changes taking place around the building, but perhaps less taking place in us as a community. It is easy to focus on the practical tasks at hand and forget that building relationships with each other is as vital as making this a livable space.

This morning I revisited pre-reno times – a video (posted below) by Sophie Suderman and Samuel Bryce below, part 1 of a documentary on the project. Back then, we just had dreams and words – no paint, no power tools. And some of those words we spoke – I had forgotten. We spoke of sharing our humanity with those around us, that that is the beginning of change.

I am extremely intimidated by the task of loving those around me – first to love them, and then act out this purported feeling is a task I do not feel capable of. Instead of rushing ahead to all out love – perhaps my first step could be to share my humanity. To be open and honest about my struggles and fears regarding this project. In the video, Jim used the word stumbling to describe our journey as a community, a word that equally applies to me. The stumbling itself, is not the problem – it is the unwillingness to share the milestones I reach along the way. Without helping people glimpse the journey as it progresses- the conclusions I arrive at may be so far away from where they last knew me to be – I may have created a divide impossible to span.

An essential and important part of community is difference – but without communication difference can simply becomes division. I don’t want this to be true in this project. I want to begin opening up – a messy endeavor to be sure, and one I have failed at miserably in recent months. We still dream and talk (a lot) amongst our renovation work – we talk about an atangard running club, paint colors, reupholstered furniture, an atangard library – but in between those dreams, let us begin attempting more honesty. Let’s let our hesitations spill out as we pour primer and our fears as the sawdust fills the air- why we are committed, why we are not – because it is in this openness that our stumbling can draw us together. We will not end up at the same conclusions, but will be richer for glimpsing the journey of those we paint alongside. We will not all stay here – but we all have a hand is its formation.

My fear? Giving in claustrophobia and the overwhemling-ness of living out true community. Drawing inward – retreating to stumble alone, repeating to myself continually that no one understands who I am and what I am staggering through. I am afraid that I will cope by busying myself in the daily work of operating the project and simply fulfilling the commitments I have made out of obligation, until I move on to the next thing, the next place. And then, letting those who are alone or uncomfortable do the same, unsupported – numbing myself to their needs and wants so well, that at some point I will cease to feel bad about it.

My hope? That our different journeys will become the strength behind this project. That we will embrace it not as an experiment, easily dismissed if failed – but as an opportunity to live life in a richer and fuller manner. No matter what this project looks like, it will not be easily controlled and the results not easily qualified – it is a journey, an adventure. I hope that I will stop using distance as my default reaction – I hope that my default reaction will instead become sharing my humanity.

-Beth

Atangard Community Project from Sam Bryce on Vimeo.

The rumble of voices started to grow from room 200 as people arrived for the weekly gathering. I had come early to Atangard to do a walk around, to see progress, to look at how the building was being redeemed and reinvented. As people entered the room, opinions, ideas, stories, and good humor floated in a delta of directions. Then when it was time, there was call to attention as Sophie spoke. She called us to focus our thoughts in prayer, to be centered. Prayers erupted like popcorn kernels on a hot skillet. And then it happened; just as spontaneously as the other prayers—Debbie spoke about a beating in her heart—and we were centered, the flow was focused.

Debbie shared of her walk earlier that day. Her steps around the garbage cans set out for weekly pic up seemed to jump out at her more than the usual. I don’t know the intricacies of how it all works but it seemed that Holy Spirit was speaking to her, breathing on her, and allowing her to be “inspired” beyond rubermaid containers.

The implications had gravity as she shared the depth of the metaphor in detail. “Everyone has trash, and there it is on display for everyone to see.” The allusion was fittingly paired with brokenness and sin in our lives. Debbie described how some had bins that were sealed tight so that no one could pry—unless of course they were authorized by personal attachment or occupation. Also, she highlighted a bag that sat beside the trash cans, it was a bag of seemingly noble origins and was clear so that the contents could be seen. Ready to be recycled, acceptable bits and pieces were tied in these bags. Debbie called these the bag of socially acceptable brokenness.

“Jesus, wants to help us with our trash and recycling. It is all bad.” I could feel that Debbie was hitting a nerve. Comments started to trickle from those sitting in our odd shaped circle. I looked at the wall wondering what was to come. Would the room burst out in confession like I have seen at campfires or at charismatic alter calls. Would the freshly stripped floor be anointed with tears? Or would it flow more civilly, one confessing to another like a parishioner to the priest?

I took a few deep breaths. What is my garbage? What is my brokenness? What is my need? Are these my friends, my brothers, and my sisters worthy of being given the place of Mother or Father (priest)? We are of course a priesthood of all believers? (I may be ripping that out of context, but it fits within the biblical historical role of a priest – to go on behalf of the people to God for forgiveness of sins)

Confession and confrontation became a topic instead of an act. It was dissected and discussed rather than displayed. Someone voiced that fact and the comment left the room in silent decision. The pondering was then interrupted by vocal inspiration of one, and verbal processing of another. The decision was made. The trash although there was not being sorted tonight. The lid was being kept on for another maybe more unofficial time. Confrontation was talked more about than confession, and the popcorn began to fly as conversation shifted from internal personal renovation to the practical task at hand.

It wasn’t that we didn’t want to engage with the messy process of confession and repentance. And I don’t think that tonight was necessarily the time or the place. We are in process. We are in the liminal place of transition from cleaning and tearing out to installing, painting and moving in. All this takes time – He has patience. The rooms are waiting – He is our helper, We are broken – He is a skilled carpenter and has been broken and poured out for us.

I left in the midst of a few lingerers that conversed about life and plans for the future. I was refreshed and challenged by the meeting. The night called me to present my heart before the One who made it. Maybe this needs to happen first before we present ourselves to each other in a corporate confessional way.

Community happens at many levels, sizes, and structures. The thoughts and ideas of others led me to think that community is often reflective and related to the depth of our relationships (Communion). As well, I was reminded of a specific communion time shared a few years ago. It was focused on Psalm 23:5 – You prepare for me a table in the presence of my enemies.
The liturgy highlighted that we approach the table with both enemies within as well as external threats and dangers. There were masks surrounding the table decorated and labeled with the seven deadly sins. We all wear these masks at one point or another. They seem to be daily decisional breakdowns that we use as security for us – void fillers- garbage from the house of our heart.

In the midst of this our Shepherd sets a table. The invitation is multifaceted. We identify that we are the enemy as much as we have enemies. We are invited to step into love, repentance, redemption, and reconciliation. We are invited to move outside of our masks and eat and drink with the one who was broken and poured out so that we could be whole – so that we can “dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Ps 23:6) So that we can be shaped as a living stone mortared along with our brothers and sisters, trusting them as mothers and fathers, being the potential that rests in the treasure of the kingdom that lies beyond the confessional booth.

And yet the masks remain, garbage collects, a daily choice, a momentary option. Take hope, He is there waiting at the table.
Adam Nash

This weeks meeting was the second meeting at our long awaited prayer request, the project. But now that it is in progress I have felt that the prayer requests are different, at least for me. There are not huge road blocks stopping us from the renovation process. With the renovations happening there came ideas, concerns and logistics to discuss. After that business was tended to Sophie expressed her concern about not letting the project become an identity. It is not meant to glorify yourself, or give you identification but it is a common goal our community shares. There has been many people giving their time and energy to renovations. There are some that have been blessed with free schedules, there are others that slot their time in between their work elsewhere. This makes the atangard truly a community project.

Dave Gug spoke about love, in order to give love you must first be able to receive it. Worldly love is not enough there is a void that still needs to be filled. Debbie and Dave Suderman shared about their experience when their marriage began. Getting married was very exciting and busy for them and when the wedding was over they had an awakening. The void they thought was easily filled turned out to be something that was designed to be filled by the Lord not each other.

Sometimes I can go from friend to friend to boyfriend seeing how much one can contribute to my void. I can honestly say I am completely happy with my incredible boyfriend who compliments me very well. My friends add to my happiness but being wonderful listeners and laughing at my jokes. My community makes me feel loved and included. But in the midst of all my happiness I don’t feel completely full. It’s like going to bed hungry, you try to sleep but your stomach growls and your thoughts float from nachos to a fruit smoothie. It’s an urge that doesn’t want to be ignored, you can sleep it off but it will stay on your mind until it has been satisfied. Hungry, I come to you for I know you satisfy.

Jainee