The House of God

We build dwellings, but we cannot make them stand.  Sometimes I watch my children building towers with Legos and blocks, only to watch the forces of nature (in the form of little brothers) destroy them.  It’s better that way, I know: when children make a tower that stands unsullied too long, they almost always begin to idolize it, as if there were some power that the tower had in and of itself that made it stand.

Nothing we build has the power of standing.  Nothing we build has any power.  It stands or falls at the whim of greater powers, and these greater powers are as nothing before greater powers still.  “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

Hope tells us this: that although we build nothing lasting, we might be built into something lasting.  Though I am (teleologically) nothing, yet I am part of something.  Although the bricks that I stack are as nothing before the wind, yet by being carried away by the wind I might become a part of the wind.  The house of God is not a place where we stay, but rather a place that we become.  It is living and active, and it will not be contained by any tent that we might fashion.

Suffering and Definition

“It is the sea that makes the sailor,
And the land that shapes the sea.
I do not know yet what I am made of,
Or all I may someday be.
It is the wood that makes the carpenter,
It’s the very tools of his trade.
It is love that makes a lover,
And a cross that makes a saint.”  – Rich Mullins, “The Breaks”

 

We are made what we are by what we are not: that is the meaning of definition.  The sea is where the land is no longer, thus “the land shapes the sea”.

OK, so what makes me me?  Well, it must be what I am not.  This is why “a cross makes a saint”, because it is the saint’s suffering that makes him into who he is.  Suffering is the margin of saintliness.  The essence of the saint is life, and the essence of suffering is death – but this is precisely why saints must suffer.  No human being could possibly recognize the Life, unless Life is defined by the reality of death.  Every little death we die on earth has the potential to shape us (or rather, reshape us) into the form of God.

So we are defined by our suffering.

At least we should be.  But consider the man (or woman) who flees from his suffering, who avoids it, who distracts himself from it.  Once again, he is defined by what he is not: but this time it is not suffering that defines, but rather activity.  Such a man is “bounded by activity”, perhaps bounded by work or by pleasure, but in truth no one is more passive than he.  The world happens to him, not he to the world.

Personally, I am far too often fleeing from suffering, or fleeing from engaging myself in the suffering around me.  The solution is not to “grin and bear it,” however, but to love.  Lovers accept suffering, not for its own sake, but for the sake of the beloved.  When I flee from pain and discomfort, I am committing a sin of apathy; I am not properly caring for those God has put in my life (including myself).  Suffering, more often than not, presents me with an opportunity to love.

In Detroit, too, we have an opportunity.  There is a reason that violence sometimes draws communities together; it gives us a common identity because we have a common enemy.  We struggle not with flesh and blood, but with powers and principalities, powers and principalities that themselves are used by God to define us.  “The wood makes the carpenter.”  Each thing that resists us, forms us.  What sort of fool of a carpenter would refuse a tree, however stubbornly the tree might defy him?

Imported from Detroit

‘Nuff said.

It’s the hottest fires that make the hardest steel

Detroit took center stage Sunday, in a two-minute commercial for the Chrysler 200 that sought to revitalize the city’s image.  Eminem was a choirboy for once, and my beloved city was (astonishingly) associated with luxury, of all things.

This is a rallying call, if we can listen to it.

Forget the city’s image, for a moment.  This is about pride, not image.  If you are a Detroiter, it is hard to be proud of the city as it is right now.  What shall I be proud of?  Shall I be proud of thousands of abandoned and collapsing buildings?   Shall I be proud of the tattered clothing of the man who wants money for a fix?  Shall I be proud of high school stairwells that even teachers are afraid to walk through?

No.  To take pride in the present is not hope — it is obstinacy.  And yet, I am proud to be a Detroiter.

What gives me that pride?  Not the way things are, but the way WE are in the midst of things.  I am proud of the hope that Detroiters carry with them when they work and pray.  I am proud that we stay in the city — not because it is inspiring or safe or advantageous — but because it is home.  I am proud of the tenacity of the many Detroiters who may not have everything America offers, but who at least offer America everything they have.

The hottest fires, indeed.

The Lord works in strange ways, and none more strange than the way that he has made Marshall Mathers a symbol of Detroit’s hope.  I expect that Eminem will continue to lose his way, and my city shall do the same.  But we may lose our way less and less, and who knows how strong we shall be when the fires have subsided?

“It is better to suffer evil than to commit evil.”  For suffering produces hope, and (I have it on good authority) hope does not disappoint.

Born again

Do you have any idea how hard it is to be born?  There is a small, small space, a tremendous pressure, a loud noise, a slowing heartbeat, and there is pain.  So when Jesus said, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again”, it is no wonder that Nicodemus scoffed.

A camel through the eye of a needle, a rich man into the home of God.

It would take some serious contractions to get you through that.

Joseph Peregrin Propson, my third son, was born three weeks ago; he and his mother did the hard part.

Jesus says that an adult must be born again, and I’m almost tempted to think he means it literally.  We must make ourselves so small, so very small and flexible.  And we must allow ourselves to be pushed.

God will not force himself upon us, however.  He will wait to see his kingdom born in us.

There will be tears, but there will also be rejoicing.

(Photograph is of my newborn son Joseph in my hands.  Courtesy of Melanie Reyes Photography).

Visiting an old friend

Interesting how time passes, and old projects dwindle.  This blog has been dead quite a while now, and I don’t feel that I am quite up to breathing life into it.  But I do believe that visions matter, and this blog was something of a visionary endeavor.  So I’m going to put my hand back to the plow, and see what develops.

A faithful people

If we are faithful to the Lord, we will live in His promises, and this will be life to us.  We will experience blessing in this life, but the blessing in this life pales before the blessings of eternity.

This truth — this principle of faithfulness — must be at work in the churches of this city.  If individual Detroiters choose to be faithful, the city will experience blessing.  In this sense, at least, we control our destiny.

It is critical that we build bridges among Christians in this city, that we support and encourage one another’s faithfulness.  Perfect faithfulness is possible — and unless we are trying to be perfectly faithful to the Word of God, we will never manage any faithfulness.

Preach this word, preachers of Detroit!  Let the people be faithful to their spouses, faithful to their promises, faithful to their God!  This is the way to blessing.

Communication: the key to clean up

Detroit would be renewed, if it were only a matter of wanting it.  There are tens of thousands of earnest souls that would like nothing better than the rebirth of the city.  But change is not about desire; it’s about administration.  A united attempt at change is lacking at the moment.

Where would such unity come from?  The mayor’s office?  The church pulpits?  The neighborhoods?

According to Scripture, unity is found in Christ.  This means, first and foremost, loving one another in our daily lives.  But. as city dwellers, it also means committing ourselves to groups and organizations that are not perfect, groups and organizations that often seem to waste our time.  The key here is that we cannot be selfish.  There cannot and will not be a capitalist, invisible-hand solution to Detroit’s problems, because our problems are not economic in origin.  Their origin is in violence and fear, and we have been taught that perfect love turns the other cheek to violence, that perfect love casts out fear.

This blog is expressing my desire to communicate.  If we avail ourselves of the Spirit, the Lord will unite those who desire to renew this city in His Name, and we will overcome.

Raining in Detroit

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, but I don’t want this to become another abandoned blog — Lord knows there are millions of them out there.

It’s raining outside.  I like rain.  Rain is patient; it does not do its work at once, but seeps into the pores of creation over time, infusing it with life.

Such is the word of God.  Do not expect it to change everything all at once.  But lay your roots out in the darkness of the deep earth, and the water of life will make its way to them.

“You will have life, and have it abundantly!” says the teacher.

But you gotta give it time.

Dave Bing, hopelessness, & justice

Welcome to the city, Mr. Bing. You will find it a tolerable place, quite charming in a lot of ways — that is, provided you have any time to meander about. Remember: this is a home, not a business.

Treating Detroit like a business gave us the casinos. Now we’re a tourist destination, right? I mean, doesn’t everybody want to go to the D now?

Pardon the sarcasm.

It is a time of newness and hope, but many Detroit residents are sick of hoping. Hope feels like a drug that we can’t stop taking, a drug that gives you a wonderful fleeting high and then leaves you breathless, battered, stumbling. If Dave Bing can make 200,000 people move into 50,000 empty houses, then we shall declare him the messiah and bow at his feet in fealty. But I’m not holding my breath.

The Savior for us is far too just for our liking. He destroys, He rampages our hearts until He finds fertile soil there. He will keep tilling until the weeds can’t hold, until our passion for life is circumscribed by His passion for meaning and beauty.

The people of Detroit (myself included) have sown the wind, and we shall reap the whirlwind. But that is the very reason I want to be here. It is a privilege to be annihilated by the living God. Not every place is so lucky.

From Ashes, the Magazine – A Vision

It may be that this blog creates its own space, and develops its own purpose. The purpose I have intended it for, however, is to be the first home of a vision of mine. The vision?

To create (or join) a magazine that lives and breathes Detroit, that aims to repair broken homesteads, to build up the walls of the city, to strengthen knees that are failing. The magazine would be something of a rallying point for faithful Detroiters who are tired of their city failing. What’s more, it would draw people in from the suburbs, aiming to — through the work of the Holy Spirit — mend relationships tarnished by fear and alienation.

The vision is a gigantic one, and I am nothing and no one to embark upon it. And yet, I believe that, if God wants such a magazine to exist, He will bring it to pass, and I am willing to be His servant in that.

As I write this blog entry, I know that it is published into the emptiness. I have not taken great trouble to publicize my blog, and I’m not sure I want to. Perhaps I am called to the faith that plants a seed in the silence, nourishes it, and waits for the growth to come.

In the meantime, I’m going to use this place as a brainstorming bulletin, a place to develop this magazine idea. When I was younger, I would take an idea like this and immediately throw all my energy into it; in short order, the idea had sprung up and died. Today, I feel that I must till the soil before I place the fertilizer, and the soil is here on this page.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, my Rock and my Redeemer.

The greening of Detroit has already happened

The greening of Detroit has already happened. Where once there were houses, there are fields. Where once there were communities, there are weeds. Where once there were families, there are tall, tall trees.

Nature is winning in Detroit, repopulating a diminished city with new growth, with animals, plants, and trees — with everything that a city is not. It is often quite pleasant, but not exactly what we think about when we think about urban renewal.

Yes, there are many empty lots filled with trash, but more of them are filled with grass and wildflowers. The force of nature has become a stronger power against blight than any legislation ever could be.

And yet the empty houses remain. And the empty stretches of land, however pleasant, are considered an indication of the failure of Detroit, the hopelessness of housing values, the lack of vibrancy in this once and future city.

“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.

“The beast of the field shall honour me, the dragons and the owls: because I give waters in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert, to give drink to my people, my chosen.”    – Isaiah 43

This is my question: Is God doing a new thing here in Detroit, something unprecedented? Are we supposed to be a new kind of city, a city built from the ashes? Are we being reduced to a wilderness, because only in the wilderness can we truly respond to His word?

These are crazy questions, I know. But it takes somebody crazy to believe in Detroit right now, and I’m just crazy enough to do it.

Prayers for the city of Detroit

Yesterday I gathered with a group of fellow Christians to pray for the city.  There were about 35 of us, and we were a diverse group — Protestant and Catholic, black and white, young and old, rich and poor.  The event is called “Father, Make Us One,” and there have been several of them in the past few years.

A couple words stood out:

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.  – 2 Chronicles 7:14

“We cannot make the renewal happen, but we can show up.” – Bob Hoey, pastor of Messiah Church

The topics of prayer were very meaningful, so I thought I’d post them here.  This blog doesn’t have many readers yet, but I hope this can be a post people can come back to.

Areas of prayer:

Children in the city

Marriages and families

The poor & unloved

Cultural & racial reconciliation

Outreach & Evangelism

It was a powerful night of prayer, which reminded me: more than anything else, Detroit needs prayer.  All you who read this, join me in praying for this profoundly needy dwelling of God.

Buy a second house in Detroit?

Having been a resident of the D since 2002, I know that, in the city, housing values are wildly inconsistent.  When I bought my house in 2004 for $200,000, it had been advertised as costing $240,000 (realtor), but barely appraised for 200 k.  Now it would sell for, maybe, $130,000.  Or dare I say lower?

It’s a buyer’s market, as they say, and I have seriously considered by another home in the city as an investments.  It’s tempting, but there’s more to it than meets the eye.  Many observers and journalists talk about bargain basement values in Detroit, but there is more to it than meets the eye.  Some considerations:

• The city requires homebuyers to get houses up to code rather quickly. I’m not sure how this applies to homes that no one is living in.  But, if I bought a home, I would like to rent it out soon after buying (ideally to a Christian ministry), so the code situation could be a real obstacle.
• The taxes in Detroit are prohibitive.  This has been improving over the past few years, but it’s still a problem.
• You don’t know what you’re getting.  Working with old houses can be tremendously rewarding, but it’s hard to commit to renovate something, when it involves the risk of owning a money pit.

I am not the only person who would like to invest in Detroit, but who is sitting on the sidelines until it seems more feasible.  The Kilpatrick administration seemed largely unaware of the tremendous disincentives involved in being a Detroit homeowner.  Here’s hoping the new mayor will not be so myopic.

I believe in my city, because it is God’s city too.  I want to throw my lot in with my city, to renew what others are demolishing — but I am afraid.  Detroit is a foolish investment, I suppose, but the world is full of blessed fools.

Easter

My son Isaac has been sick the last couple days; my wife and I have stayed home and tried to nurse him back to health.  Yesterday was his birthday, and he was miserable. Today, Easter, he had to be held all day. We ate a freezer meal and watched golf.

It is hard to understand why your son has to suffer, why the joy you have promised him must wait until tomorrow, or the next day.

Or the third day. Happy Easter!

(We’ll start celebrating tomorrow).