HeightstoDepths

One of the things that we put some effort into in this brotherhood I’m a part of is observing different times and seasons. The seasons of Advent has, over the last several years, become one of my favorite times of the year. The old year is dying, the days are the darkest of the year (at least north of the equator, in Belfast that’s very dark indeed). We go through a special set of scripture reflections during the special seasons, with everyone in the house putting aside or at least supplementing their personal studies with our house meditations. We take a part of our dinners to share any reflections and insights that we have from the passage of the day. I find it a great way to engage in and reflect on what God is about during the time.

Early on during Advent a phrase from 2 Peter 3 “waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of the Lord” caught my attention. I found myself coming back to this passage on several occasions over the last weeks. I believe that Christ is going to come again, that there is a building of and preparing for his kingdom that I am supposed to participate in. Does my life reflect that? Am I available to Christ and his plan? Am I repentant of the sin, the pride and distraction, in my life as there is no place for it in the life of a disciple. Am I even *aware* of it? Some very sobering reflections for me. I am meant to prepare the way and point to Christ with my life, but thanks be to God it isn’t up to me and my own resources to accomplish this. It is the work of God and the Holy Spirit working in and through me that will allow me, as I cooperate with grace offered, to journey on in hope faith and love.

A very prominent feature of this Lent was marking the difficult experience of one of the brothers here in Belfast. Doug Smith has lived and ministered here in Belfast with the Servants of the Word for nearly fifteen years. Earlier this fall it became apparent that his mother’s cancer had recurred. It was unclear how quickly things would run their course. In the end, after talking it over with the rest of the brothers, Doug decided to move up a planned trip home by several weeks. His sister back in Ohio was under quite a lot of pressure and Doug was able to step in and really aid the cause of everyone and was able to spend good time with his Mom. Doug was able to extend his stay to a couple weeks and was with his mother in the hospital the last night as she died. It so happened that Dave Quintana (Q) from the house here was in Michigan for some meetings and was able to attend the funeral in Ohio along with several of the brothers living in Michigan. The day of the funeral we began a week of mourning here in the house - some fasting, specific prayers, and mourning Psalms in our prayer room.

The chance to join with and support Doug in his grieving was a real blessing. It was remarkable seeing how the Lord really provided for Doug and the Smith family through the whole time. Seeing Doug go through this gave me an opportunity to reflect on my own commitments. The way of life I think the Lord has opened up to me and I am choosing for does not allow me to be a part of my family in the way I would be if married. There is real sacrifice there, but there is also a blessing. Because of Doug’s decision to live single he was more free to put other things aside and help his mother, father, and family during this time. He was also able to witness to hope in the Lord and eternal life in a profound and comforting way to his whole family.

A less spiritual aspect of Advent has been the beginning of house basketball on Monday evenings before dinner. Basketball was really my sport growing up, at least until about the age of twelve. That’s when I peaked as a starting guard on the Holy Family Wild Cats boys B team. Unfortunately it’s been all downhill since then. The games are fun, and good exercise, and somehow I manage to come down with more then my fair share of rebounds, it’s just the shooting, dribbling, and passing that I can’t do.

From Advent, to mourning within Advent, and now to Christmas. The last several days have been packed with celebration, feasting, rejoicing, and prayer. Saturday was a big spruce up day, cleaning the whole house top to bottom (I dusted and hoovered, the UK word for vacuuming for four hours), and then having a Lord’s Day celebration for the fourth Sunday in Advent. Sunday morning it was off to church. While the fourth candle was dutifully lit on the wreath the sermon and rest of mass certainly left Advent in the dust. Martin spent most of the rest of the day preparing for our house Christmas Eve celebration. He was main chef, pulled together a prayer service inspired by Orthodox and Anglican Christmas traditions, and did most of the decorating, including a real Christmas tree (first in many years for me) with actual candles we lit during dinner. Dinner was some beautiful salmon given to us by a family in Charis. We shared family Christmas traditions over dinner and I mentioned the oplatek, blessing/reconciliation bread we always share on Christmas eve at my grandparents. After dinner I called the grandma and grandpa’s place where most of my Dad’s side of the family was gathered. It was somewhat surreal having maybe twenty two minute conversations, hard to remember exactly who said what, but it was really nice to have a small connection with the family Christmas eve. After that off to church again for midnight mass.
Christmas day we had a early afternoon house prayer and hors d’oeuvres time. Restraint not being a strong point for me it was difficult, but necesary to hold back from another wee piece of the fancy cheeses and such. After a quick nap it was off Christmas dinner. All the brothers in the house joined different families in Charis. I was at the Semple home, for a lovely and ample feast. As things wound down about 7:30 after dessert, coffee, a little more dessert, it was time to head out. Many of the families in Charis live in one neighborhood called Greystown. Every family has their own Christmas dinner with assorted guests like myself, but then the wandering begins. After the Semples I was in four other houses. Laughing, caroling, eating, drinking, and general Christmas merriment ensued on a grand scale. A great celebration and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Tomorrow it’s off to for a week in Norfolk for our brotherhood Christmas retreat. We’ll be joining the brothers from the London house somewhere off in the English country side. Should be good craic, tis the season you know.

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Three weeks since my last post and quite a bit has gone on for me here in Ireland. The second week in November John Keating, the presiding elder of the Servants of the Word, was in town for several days. It was wonderful to get a little time to meet with John and catch him up on how things are going for me in our Belfast household and the new service this year. John is an amazing encourager and completely dedicated follower and lover of Christ. We’re blessed indeed to have such a man to lead us in the brotherhood.

The following weekend (10-12) I had my first opportunity to go to “The South” - the Republic of Ireland, spending the weekend in Dublin. It was a cracker weekend. Q had some meetings in Dublin for the weekend and I had the chance to tag along and stay with a family, the Buckleys, from the Community of Nazareth (the local Dublin Sword of the Spirit community). Paddy Buckley, along with another Dubliner Tadgh Lynch, and a Belgian Sam Geleyn, were in Dublin for the weekend from London. They’re in the midst of a year of service doing university outreach there through a program called the Timothy project (inspired by 2 Timothy 2:2). I joined the three of them at the Nazareth youth group on Friday night. Noelle Gornik, a fellow Michigander, spent last year in Dublin helping with the youth. I was delighted, when her name was mentioned, to see most of the kids hold their hands up and point palm ward to show where she was from. I also got a chance to see Paddy’s brother, Cormac, on Friday.

Saturday morning the Timothies, Cormac, Stephen Dick (a Belfast lad who recently got a job in Dublin) and myself had a nice fry at Cormac’s place. It’s amazing the way that relationships work. I met Cormac in the summer of aught two when we ended up being roommates for a week at a conference in Michigan called the Ecumenical Youth Congress. We met again in Belgium the next summer at something called the bible week, where I also met the Timothies. Here we were, three years on, having some good Irish sausage and catching up on what the Lord’s been about in our lives the past three years (also speculating about Irelands chances against South Africa in the match that evening). After the fry Steve and I caught a bus into the city center. I got to see a couple things, Trinity University and some of the historic districts along the Liffey River. We then walked over to Christ Church Cathedral where there was a worship event I had heard about in Belfast going on. Christ Church itself was beautiful, but the event was a little disappointing. The vision behind the event was a broad worship time involving many churches, worship styles (music, art, etc.). The reality was an interesting but somewhat disjointed sort of Christian multicultural show. Fine for the afternoon, but not something I’d make an effort to get back to again. That evening there was a Lord’s Day celebration with the twenty-something singles from Nazareth at the Buckley’s house. This turned out to be a beautiful chance to thank God for his many blessings. After a sumptuous meal, which as any feast should had managed to dirty every pot/plate/container/and utensil in the house, we had an extended washing up time. Cormac manned the guitar while the rest of us joined in singing everything from traditional Irish folk tunes to the Beatles and Dave Mathews Band. Sunday including a nice brunch and a nicer soccer match. (Interestingly it’s actually often called soccer in Ireland because of the popularity of Gaelic football, making it still more complicated in decide which sport is referred to by ‘football’). I couldn’t compete skill wise with almost anyone on the pitch, but could hold my own in the hustle and endurance departments. Sunday evening it was off to Strangford Lough for a day retreat with the Timothies. I’m really beginning to love that house there.

The next week was taken with preparation for, and eventually celebration of, the 35th anniversary of the Servants of the Word. Friday we had a big anniversary event, with maybe a couple hundred people joining for a chance to celebrate the Lord’s goodness in calling my brotherhood into being. Yours truly had a wee slot to share a bit of my testimony of the Lord’s work in my life and why I’m a brother in the SW. I’ve shared similarly on many occasions, but something about this time carried more weight and so was more special (also surprisingly more nerve wracking then I expected). Over the next week we had nicer dinners, a feast with many of the leaders in Charis on Tuesday, and special prayers and meditations to mark the occasion. It was all crowned by my first Thanksgiving outside of Michigan. Sixteen of, two Belfast natives, two Lebanese habibis, and an even dozen expatriots gathered around a extra long table in our to celebrate and feast. Elaine Roub, a Minnesotan who is helping with the Gap program, was chief chef. She headed a crew that produced a full on turkey feast with all the fixings.

The next day (for the second time in a fortnight) it was off to the Republic of Ireland. Counter intuitively this trip tp ‘The South’ involved heading steadily west by north west for a few hours until I was on the northern Donegal coast near a place called Downings for the geographically interested. This is one of the ironies of the partition here in Ireland. When most of Ireland became independent of the UK three of the nine Ulster counties with predominantly Catholic populations went with the other three southern provinces and the other six Ulster counties with Protestant majorities became Northern Ireland, remaining a part of the UK. It just so happens that the most northerly part of Ireland (Donegal) is part not a part of Northern Ireland. Anyhow, the occasion for this trip was the TEC men’s weekend we called ‘The Yorkie Challenge’ (those who’ve spent time in the UK will understand the sweet allusion). We stayed at and worked on a couple old houses that are being prepared as a facility that different groups (youth groups, recovering addicts) will be able to use. The weekend was class and included: power tools, tearing out an old rotten floor, moving huge quantities of rock, lashing rain, a brilliant double rainbow, the maiden test of Peter’s potato gun (black PVC, very sharp), a huge bonfire with the afore mentioned floor and a tree we took down, Band of Brothers viewing, bacon and other fried things, mud, cigars, and a brilliant sunny tour of some breathtaking Donegal coast on Sunday morning. Not bad all told, we’re looking for our next chance to do some more work up there.

A few more linguistic gems to close this (overly long) post:

Cracker: adjective, meaning brilliant, splendid, dead on etc.

Eejit: from idiot, a slaggin’ (or sleggin) word for sure, but surprisingly mild

and two of my favorites from the last couple weeks:

usen’t (use-int): contraction of used not, I heard this one down in Dublin. Usage example “Dublin is booming right now, but it usen’t to be like that.” For whatever reason (maybe the accent has something to do with it) I find this one particularly charming.

scundered (two syllables, Skun-derd): embarrassed or mortified, I heard this one from a Belfast native with a poor sense of direction, saying she’s completely scundered when she has to get directions from people who have only lived in the city for a couple months. If someone makes a bit of an eejit of themselves you might sleg off on him by saying “skundered fer ya”.

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