stir the pot

I love cooking. And I love igniting people with purpose that is greater then themselves. Today, both of these passions collide into what I know will be an amazing day. Later this afternoon I join a 12 member team from Bloom to prepare and share a meal at the Family Place , a day shelter for homeless families in St Paul, MN. Not only do I get to cook with friends from my community, but we also get to experience the joy of serving others from our community in St Paul who are at the moment in need.

Our community embrace team fell in love with this organization the moment they connected. Not only are they committed to help families who have had the unfortunate turn toward homelessness get back on their feet, but they are also committed to educating others about the true face of homelessness in Minnesota. Much to our own surprise, 47% of the homeless population in St Paul is youth and children. Like many, we assumed the face of homelessness was predominantly adult men, until the Family Place introduced us to a group of the kids playing with toys in their family room.

The Family Place provides a shelter out of the cold for families to gather and provide support, comfort and direction as they move forward, which is a welcome alternative to having to ride the city bus all day, walk the skyway system, or avoid mall security to stay warm. The shelter has showers, laundry facilities, and computers and staff to assist in job searches and placement in affordable housing.

What caught our attention the most was their commitment to dignity and community connection. And no where is this commitment more obvious then at the dinner table. The food that is prepared by communities of faith and other volunteers is served family style. There are no cafeteria lines, paper plates, or people behind counters handing out food. We all sit together around set tables, volunteers and new friends, and we break bread together in a moment that demonstrates we all have need, the daily need for nourishment. Children, who may have sensed their parents loss of circumstantial control, get to experience their own parents putting food on their plates from dishes at the center of the table.

I had the fortune of planning our team’s menu. I spent quite a bit of time thinking it through. We wanted our meal to not just be food, but a piece of our community. We wanted the dishes to represent us and what we eat at our tables. We want those we meet this afternoon to sense that even in the food we are offering a piece of ourselves, our families, and our own personal histories.

I can’t wait to get the apron on, sharpen the knives, and get to cooking. I can’t wait to see the face of one of my new friends as they take that first flavorful bite. It will be a moment where the mission of Bloom comes alive anew for me, the mission to create opportunities for people to experience the grace of God.

Our Menu:
- Mama Judy’s Beef Au Jus Sandwiches
The best part of this is that Mama Judy herself got excited about what we are doing and has been making 26 lbs of the most tender, succulent beef that has been cooking in an au jus that kings would bathe in if they could.
- Rodney Beans
Our friend Rodney is our AV Team leader and he comes from the great state of Mississippi. His recipe is not for baked beans, it is for “Rodney Beans.” These beans typically make their appearance at Memorial day parties, Super Bowl parties, or on occasions where we beg him to make them.
- Oriental Cole Slaw
We were looking for something with a tangy crunch and thought this would create a good balance to the other dishes. We took a look at several recipes and pulled the best. We’ll see how it goes.
- Corn Bread
This name is a misnomer since it is more like corn cake. This down South recipe has an incredible balance of savory and sweet. This recipe shows up at Joy’s table, Dawn’s parties, and has accompanied Mama Judy’s sandwiches in the past. Our new friends will think these moist bites are dessert.
- Chocolate Cake
Bruce and Susan will be bringing a family recipe and Stephanie will be making a few of her cakes with our girls to give us a head start. We hope they like chocolate, because these cakes will have plenty

If you are looking for a meaningful opportunity to connect with the community of St Paul, check out the Family Place.

This past year has been by far the most challenging year of my life. There were several times I was sure I had reached the end, that I would not be able to go on or get back up. But here I am today, taking a moment to reflect on the wild adventure this year has been, and all is well with me and my beautiful family.

God has been good. He has been very good. And I look forward to the plans He has for us in 2010.

As I welcome the New Year, this is my prayer for all of those that I know and love. It is a Psalm of David.

“May He grant the dreams of your heart
and see your plans through to the end.
When you win, we will not be silent! We will shout
and raise high our banner in the great name of our God!
May the Eternal One say yes to all your requests.”
Psalm 20:4-5 (Voice)

Happy New Year!

To Judson & Kristina and the Sound Church team,

There was a misunderstanding over the last few days that may have given the impression that we were at odds. I want to be sure you all know that we are not. I’m sorry for any of the confusion that took place and let you all know as clearly as I can that we love you guys.

We are inspired by the selflessness many of you have shown to move to Seattle to open a life-giving church. We are cheering you guys on and praying that the upcoming days are filled with grace, abundance, and full nights of sleep (trust me, you’ll need your rest!).

We’re proud of you guys and look forward to hearing updates of all the awesome things God does through all of you as SoundChurch.

Onward my friends!

Danny

Three months into our church plant and things are blooming.

We started this year praying for a bunch of people we didn’t yet know and who we longed to meet along this journey. Now we close out the year having met some of the people God is drawing by his love. We consider this a gift. We’ve learned their names, become part of their stories, and we’ve embraced as friends who have become family through faith.

Meet our friends. This is our family, the community at Bloom.

Merry Christmas

Gs

While dropping my daughter off at school a couple of days ago, I was confronted by a sincere question that stung. As I was assisting my daughter in the coat room, a little friend of hers asked me, “What disease does Madeline have?”

It wasn’t just the question itself, but the tone and non-verbals that came along with it that caught me off guard. The little girl looked afraid. She looked concerned. It was as if she had heard H1N1 precautions at home about staying away from any sick kids. It was as if she thought my daughter’s special needs were contagious and could be spread by her generous hugs.

But she was sincere.

And there I stood, stunned and stinging. The thought that my child’s peers would liken her needs to a contagious disease and consequently want to keep their distance was hard to deal with. But there she stood, waiting for an answer.

I had a choice between being upset, and between helping this little girl better understand my daughter. Help dispel the sincere fear she had at the moment.

***

Can I do the same when someone asks me a sincere question about my faith that stings? Or a difficult question about how we carry on as followers of Jesus? There are plenty of misperceptions, misunderstandings, and fears surrounding what it means to be a follower of Jesus. So it should not come as a surprise to me if I’m asked a question about God or my faith that may even at first seem offensive. The question I’m asking myself is, what will my response be?

I walked away from that coat room this week reflecting on the need to listen beyond the question and the initial shock or sting. Is there an opportunity for understanding beneath it all? I may say I welcome sincere questions, but what do I do when they sting?

As unfounded as that little girl’s fears were regarding my daughter, they were real to her and she was looking to me for some comfort. And as unfounded as some of the fears are surrounding my faith, they are just as real to those who have them. And yet, I may miss a powerful point of connection if I focus on the merits of the fear over the opportunity to bring comfort.

Proverbs 15:1  A gentle answer deflects anger, but harsh words make tempers flare.

This past weekend we celebrated our youngest daughter’s sixth birthday. The reality that my daughters are growing fast sunk deep. Not sure why it hit me so hard this year, but it did.

I know I echo many fathers who attest being able to vividly remember bringing their babies home. I remember the short time she used to sleep right next to my side of the bed in her bassinet. And now she’s old enough to ask me to ride the “Log Chute” ride at the Mall of America while assuring me that the water only splashes, and that it doesn’t get you wet. (Public Service Announcement: It does get you wet.)

Time is flying by.

This past weekend we also marked the sixth week of gathering as Bloom. I have no idea where the time has gone. I’m finding myself remembering starting our launch team meetings in my basement and how we used an overturned trash can with a sheet on it as a podium. I’m remembering Luke leading worship and the pile of shoes in our entry way.

As I reflect on it all, I’m reminding myself how important it is to pause and take it all in. I’m reminding myself how important memories are as souvenirs for the soul. As my kids grow and as Bloom takes root, I must remember what a gift these years are.

Because tomorrow is fast approaching.

I’ve heard this song before. (New Soul by Yael Naim) But today as I was stuffing programs for Bloom’s big opening weekend, I had to pull up the video to see what it was about. I needed something to take my mind off the mundane task at hand.

I deeply resonated with it.

Many people have asked me what our church planting experience has been like. I come up short every time I try to answer, because frankly, my answers never seem poetic enough to be real. And here, the images in this video capture so much of what this journey has felt like.

***

We moved out and found a place of our own to call home.

We spent time unpacking our past while dreaming about what life could be like, and those dreams always included people. Other people we were yet to meet. People that had a melody about them who were on their own journeys. People who were coming together.

We’ve wondered what our mark would look like if we were brave enough to leave one on our world.

Then the walls fell out. All around us there was life in full bloom.

We now have friends who have joined the party. Friends with great talent and loads of passion all singing to the same tune.

…All with new souls.

…All wanting to go and unleash the generosity of God through Jesus on those around us.

…All under a great big open heaven.

What has our church planting experience been like?

A lot like this video, I suppose.

The time I spent in Peru as the son of missionaries has definitely had an impact on my concept of home. During the ten years I spent there, our family moved eight times. One of those times we moved from a beautiful four bedroom home to a one-bedroom apartment where we lived for ten months. My bed was located under the breakfast table.

Despite all the moves, I always felt like we were home because we were together as family.

It was right around the time our family finally found a permanent home that it was my turn to graduate from school and move back to the U.S. for college. Figures. I remember standing in the Jorge Chavez International Airport saying my goodbyes, and moments before I boarded the plane my dad gave me $120 and told me that was all he had to give me. He told me I’d have to trust God, because that was the truest inheritance he had given me - a faith in a good God. I had no real concept of “American money” back then and figured $120 could last me several months up here.

When I moved back to the U.S. in 1996, I had a similar nomadic experience where home was concerned. I moved seven times in the first three years of my return, yet this time I felt alone through the process. It wasn’t until I got married in 1999 that I finally felt home again, and it wasn’t because we had a place of our own, but because I was with my best friend and love of my life, Stephanie. Because my concept of home has less to do with location or infrastructure and more to do with who I am with and those who surround me.

***

I wonder if all of these life experiences were a purposed conditioning of sorts. Because the past year of church planting has brought many of these times back to mind. In the past seven months our team has visited ten churches and gathered for worship ten times hopping between three different locations. And my office has been the breakfast table.

In the process of planting a church together as a team I have watched this highly unlikely group of people go from being friends to being church family.

Last Sunday we had our last preview service. In the car on the return home my wife looked at me and said, “I finally felt like I was home.”

She was right. It felt like we had come home. It felt like all the travels and moves had come to a end and all the journeying had been worth it. It gave us stories, relational history, and memories together. The people, now friends and church family, those who surrounded us that morning had made the moment home.

On September 13 we open our home for others to come. And I can’t wait!

[Our church, Bloom, opens to the public on Sunday September 13 at Central High School in St Paul, MN. We gather at 10:30am as an unlikely group of friends who now has become family.]

Pinch-yourself moments.

You know, those times when doubt flashes through your mind about whether or not the moment you’re living in is actually true. The times when you feel like the quick flash of pain that a pinch delivers will ground you and confirm the moment is, in fact, real.

Tonight I had a pinch-yourself moment as I sat on the deck of my home enjoying some good Peruvian food with Dr. John Cionca. This man is the real deal. He is a legend around these northern regions, and surely respected all over. I first heard about John through a book of letters he edited and wrote entitled “Dear Pastor.” I first read it two years ago when I was on vacation. It was one of those books that reads you, instead of the other way around.

I won’t bore anyone with the series of events that led to him accepting our invitation for dinner. Instead, let me just say that I was pretty nervous about the whole evening.

Even though I put a pen and notepad by my place setting I didn’t write a single thing down tonight. Our conversation never strayed toward the nitty gritty of church methodology, church growth or the like. Instead, it was one of the most comfortable conversations I’ve had in as long as I can remember.

I learned tonight from a man who seems to know nearly all there is to know about church, what the heart of a pastor looks like. Not one filled with knowledge and information (not saying there is anything wrong with that) as much as one filled with genuine interest and sincere caring. From the time he walked in, he was completely at ease. Peaceful. Big smile. He talked briefly with my daughters. Asked about how my eldest lost her front teeth. He chatted with me as I served up our food. He made me feel at home in my own home.

And our conversation was amazing. Whereas I thought I’d ask him questions particular to church governance, doctrine and other matters, we instead talked about my years as a missionary kid, my years in ministry and my hopes for our new church plant. He turned the tables on me and got me to open up my heart. And he listened. I’m still amazed.

More valuable than any tidbit he could have left me, was the gift of demonstrating the pastoral art of breaking bread with another person in their home.

I feel like I dined with Jesus. I’ve always imagined Jesus enjoying dinner with his disciples and friends. I’ve always imagined him laughing and engaging conversation, sharing wise insights in a way that the commoner would understand.

Thank you, John.

***

Is the art of table fellowship lost?

Are we too busy as a society to find time to invite people into our homes for a meal?

What stops us from inviting people over or accepting people’s invitations?

Let me know your thoughts.

Over lunch today, some of us from the Bloom team were reading through a few of the cards from Foodie Fight, a trivia game for people who love food. We were transitioning out of a three hour meeting that was heavy on operational tasks relating to church planting and moving into a creative meeting. We needed a palette cleanse for the brain. It worked!

One of the the cards read:

True or False: Mexican avocado growers sometimes “store” their crop on the tree for up to a year.

Answer: True (Avocados normally ripen only after they’ve been picked.)

Ripen after being picked…

Avocados.

Perhaps people, too?

This past weekend my friend Shannon opened our third soft launch service with a welcome and a bit of her story. This is no small deal. Shannon wasn’t into church. She didn’t go to church. She wasn’t a fan of church. In fact, she shared that she always felt judged at church, never loved. So she stayed away.

It seems like just yesterday that I had a conversation with her on my deck. I told Shannon I’d love to have her on our team. In essence, we “picked her” to come help us. I think she was shocked that we’d want her on our team since she wasn’t into church. Some might even say she was green.

The person who I talked with on the deck and the person who opened the service yesterday is the same person - just totally different. Shannon is still Shannon, but she has identified with the cause we stand for. Thus, she is not coming to church, Shannon now is the church.

She stood up there, poised, authentic and comfortable, and she shared what this young community had done for her. And she was ready.

***

Are people more like avocados? Do they need to be picked to play a meaningful role in church for them to ripen?

Are our churches like Mexican avocado trees, “stored up” with fruit that just needs to be picked for it to ripen?