HeightstoDepths

I’ve been a bit remiss in posting, so I have, so I thought I’d give yous’ons a bit of the old run down on the last couple weeks.  I just got back this evening from a Servants of the Word house retreat weekend.  We were nearly complete, Peter was off serving on the NUTS residential.  NUTS is the aptly named YI project for 11-14 year olds.  On getting back I asked Peter how he was doing and with a big grin he said “wiped out”.  Apparently the main tasks of the weekend were helping the kids grow in faith and confiscating candy.  He said some of the kids brought as much candy/soda/crisps as clothing for the weekend (crisps this part of the word are potato chips, potato chips are something else).

The other seven of us from the house enjoyed a lovely weekend on Strangford Lough, the same place I went to one of my first couple weeks here in NI.   There’s a map showing where it is in relation to Belfast here: www.strangfordlough.org/map/maps/incontext.gif . The topic for out time was the interior life and protecting sacred space.  Lots of space for reading, prayer, reflection, and enjoying the beautiful surroundings, all told a marvelous weekend.  Saturday morning was a spiritual highpoint for me.  Q pulled a couple selections from a book called The Soul of the Apostolate.  Reading over the selection about the interior life and being united to Christ I think the Lord helped me to do just that.  Being recollected has been a big topic, both for the SW at large and my own personal formation, over the last year and a half or two.  My experience of Saturday morning was one of having many strands, thoughts, and prayers of the last time in the area be woven together more coherently.  A time when much that I’ve assented to and agree with came into finer focus, more penetrating comprehension.  So anyways, that was nice.  After that I had a chance to go for a walk into the national trust site, Castle Ward, that’s literally less then a five minutes walk from the front door.  I quickly found a grand spreading old beech which over hung the sea wall, found a comfortable perch twenty feet up, and got lost in thought watching the tide fill up the Lough.  The best word to describe the beeches there along the shore is entish – I didn’t actually talk to the tree while sitting up there though, just myself and God.

Saturday afternoon Doug, Noel, and I took a little drive down the coast, low tide by now.  We checked out a castle, hiked out on the kelp strewn mud flats, and got to within fifty yards of some seals hauled out on to the rocks.  The seals were something else, they look really comical flopping around on the rocks, no grace at all.  But when they get in the water, look out.  I did a little research and these boys can stay under for thirty minutes and go up to fifty meters deep before they need to surface.  I think there must be some really profound spiritual insights about being in the right place and all … but I’ll need to let that stew.  Today there was more good time to read and meditate, as well as a chance for Georges to roundly defeat me in a fierce ping pong match, and to take a run through the Castle Ward grounds.  Here’s a picture of Audley’s Castle, a tower ruins that was along the run.On Friday night before the retreat Doug took Noel, Georges, and I to dinner with some friends of his from church who live in Portaferry across the Lough from Strangford.  We ate at Karen’s place with her boyfriend John and Connor, another guy from church.  The whole experience was quintessentially Irish.  Karen’s place is one of the smallest homes I’ve ever been in.  The seven of us filled up the main room (smaller then my dorm rooms at U of M) there was also a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom, and a loft bedroom reached by a ladder going up into the ceiling.  The house is in a row of small cottages that look out over the Lough which starts just 20 feet from the front door and is opposite a small marina where some sail boats tie in.  With a cheery fire going, good food, and great banter the evening was grand.  John was the second guy this side of the pond that I could talk a bit about the D-town Tigers with, I told him next year the Tigs will be back.  After dinner we hopped on the ferry and made our way across to Strangford. 

The Friday previous I had another excellent dinner at Mags, Elaine, and Maureen’s house (three sisters from Charis).  An eclectic bunch, the party included myself and Elaine from the States, Georges and Joelle from Lebanon, Mags from “the South” (the Republic of Ireland), and four Northern Irish (the Walsh’s  a Charis couple w/children in Uni, Clare a gal from TEC, and Sharon a younger gal widowed last year).  The meal was Spanish in inspiration, and very tasty, but in Irish fashion featured several different potato preparations.  Mags had everyone who came along bring along a photo that means something.  Not having much this side of the pond in the way of photographs I asked my folks to scan a few family pics and send them my way.  I eventually picked this one when me and Beth were the ring bearer and flower girl (respectively) at my Uncle Larry and Aunt Theresa’s wedding.  I think we cut a dashing couple at five and three, plus the choice allowed me to warn about the potential pitfalls of mixing wee lads, tailcoats, and banquet hall toilets.  Another delightful part of the evening was the singing.  After the pictures Mary Walsh called for some Lebanese songs from Georges which needed to be followed by a traditional Irish tune and an American musical song or two.

One final highlight of the last couple weeks was a visit from a couple of the brothers stationed in London.  Andy Pettman was in town for a couple days for meetings.  We took a stroll one afternoon enjoying the botanical gardens and greenhouse, swapping tidbits of natural history and trying to recall the genus or family of various trees and flowers.  Really a blessing to knock some of the rust off the ID skills.  Richard Perry was in town a few more days and we had a chance to go down to the local (most frequented pub, the Malone Lodge in this case) to sit in the comfy chairs and enjoy some frothy Gaelic refreshment while catching up. 

Thanks for taking the time to wade through these musings.  One quick prayer request is for a TEC outreach weekend we’re aiming to have the 24-26 of November.  There have been some facility issues (more precisely, the issues revolve around lack of facilities fitting our stringent criteria, dead cheap).  I’d really appreciate prayers for the invites TECsters will make and the practical details of the weekend.

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I’m definitely growing in my understanding of Belfast, getting an inkling of how much there is I just don’t see and pick up on.  The area where our house is in south Belfast is a mixed area.  There are several of these but most of the city is clearly carved up between Protestant and Catholic.  You can pick it up from the murals painted on the sides of many buildings and what team the occupants of any given pub are supporting.  I can pick out someplaces as clearly loyalist, and others as republican, but a native knows intuitevely the intricate patchwork of the city.  It’s somewhat boggling to me how present the sectarian differences are here, having grown up in relatively homogenous suburban america where most people could really care less about religious background (or too commonly religion at all).  A perseptive fellow can normally nail down someones denominational background through a few simple questions like “what’s your name?”, “where do you live?”, and “where did you go to school?”.

Last night there was a Charis Lord’s Day celebration.  I’m really enjoying getting to know the brothers and sisters in Charis.  As I think many of you know the Sword of the Spirit communities have a set of prayers and a special meal on Saturday night in order to usher in Sunday and observe it, the day of Christ’s resurrection, in a prayerful, thankful, and joyous way.  The Charis community has one Saturday a month where the whole community joins together for the opening prayers and then goes to different houses for the meal.  I went to the McFaddens, a Protestant family.  They hosted me along with a couple folks from TEC and a Catholic family.  The whole time was delightful, an easygoing and entirely pleasant affair.  It’s so clear to me what a blessing it is for folks from different traditions to live life together and support one another in following Christ.  It’s clear that this is a blessing, but unfortunately it’s a bit under represented in Belfast.  Overall I’m thankful to be living in the midst of this people who have found such rich life together amidst the real obstacles to that here in Belfast.

Today the lads here in the house had a bit of an outing together.  We went hiking up by Belfast castle to a place called Napolean’s nose (it looks a bit like a giant sleeping with the highest point being the nose, but I’m not sure where the Napolean bit comes in).  A nice little climb, from the top you can get a view of much of Belfast, this one here is of North Belfast and Belfast Lough (actually taken on a previous occasion by Bruce, our view today was a bit cloudier).  We brought along the houses frisbee supply and played frolf up and down the hike.  From the top there was a stiff wind going, very difficult to get off a good throw.  Q had one that caught some thermals and went farther then I’ve ever seen one go in my life.  I had a good stretch until I had a seriously errant throw go well off the path down a steep hill, landing in the middle of a thick patch of black berries, wild rose, and stinging nettles.  After slow progress for about twenty minutes I managed to recover the disc.  Amazingly, despite many precarious lies, all of our frisbees made it home.  They’ll be able to threaten the Irish public on yet another occasions.

One more aspect of life here I’m figuring out a bit are some of the language differences.  There are many, maybe I’ll try to keep up a little running Irish lexicon.  Here are a few of the more important, or just entertaining, ones so far:

Slaggin’ and slags off:  the Northern Irish well refined art of cutdowns, backhanded compliments, and sarcasm.  You need a slightly thicker skin then back home, but it’s generally good natured.

Yousons: All of you folks, just like y’all.

Uni: The universtiy.  If I’m trying to blend in I might ask someone what they’re taking at uni, ie what are you studying.  Truth be told I don’t blend very well.

So I was: an emphatic, many variations on the theme, some of the lads here can distill half a dozen variations in a single sentence. 

What’s the craic?:  What’s going on with you, how are things going, can also be used descriptively- I was heading from city center to uni, so I was, and saw some of my mates there on the corner, so I did, and asked them if they wanted to go for a swallie (get a drink).  So we ducked in and grabbed a pint, so we did, and, aye - it was good craic … so it was.

Slicked (two syllables, slick-ed): I’ve only heard this one once but I think it’s brilliant.  Basically it’s a contraction of sly and wicked, could be used to describe someone who sneakily always manages not to buy a round at the pub or the like.

God Bless yousons, I appreciate all your prayers.  I’ve gotta go get washed up and remove the last prickers from my lacerated limbs now.

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Some pictures as promised:

Here’s the house

 Front room view

 Me and some gappers on a cliff in Glenariff (I’m the one in front holding a frisbee *grin*).

 Another Glenariff view, you can just make out Scotland on the horizon.

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I’ve been here almost exactly a month now, and have definitely grown to appreciate the household life round these parts. For one, it’s not a bad place. 23 Wellington Park was in one of it’s former manifestations an art gallery. Right now there’s quite a collection of Jamie Treadwell originals about. Jamie is a brother who spent years living here and serving with YI (Youth Initiatives, cross community youth work). He used to retransform the house into a gallery periodically to sell some of his works to fundraise for the ministry.

Much more important then the bricks and mortar are the brothers who live here. There are eight of us here in the house. Four life long brothers, one fully committed (that’d be me), and three gappers. I’ll have to let you know what the gap program is more fully in the future, but the short description is gappers are young men and women taking a year to do volunteer missionary work and seek personal growth in discipleship.

Peter DeMarais is my roommate. The youngest guy in the house comes in at a trim 5’11 and ¾, just shy of nineteen years, born and raised in Minnesota. He was on the varsity wrestling team since the eighth grade, so I’m careful to maintain a good rapport between the two of us, it just wouldn’t do to get pinned in two point three seconds by a guy nine years younger then me. He’s serving mostly with YI and is also the main weekday cook and shopper at the house.

Noel Delgadillo is a Nica (Nicaraguan) from Miami. He just finished his degree back in Florida at FIU and is serving here in Belfast with both TEC and YI. Along with leading his high school youth group and the small UCO back in Miami he managed to run a couple years of cross country at university. Noel is our houses secret weapon in the fall of aught seven servants of the word ten K challenge. The houses here, in Ann Arbor, Detroit, and Monterrey are going to get their top three or five members to run an official 10 K race and compare the times. I’m supposed to be much faster then I currently am. My training has been hampered by a bothersome chest cold that doesn’t want to let me go (there are much worse things in life).

Georges Farhat is a giant Lebanese, six foot and a couple few inches, and nearly half that width at the shoulders. He would be an intimidating sight if he wasn’t always grinning, laughing, and full of joy. One of the inspiring things about living with Georges has been seeing his response to adversity. A few days after he arrived we were hiking in a place called Glenariff. Georges and I were checking out a ravine down into the glen different from the way we had hiked up. We decided it looked passable, but you couldn’t see far enough to be sure. I left Georges taking a little nap in the sunshine and went down the way we came up. He decided to go for the new route, got to a tricky bit where he couldn’t go backward, slipped while jumping across a wee chasm, wedged his leg into a cleft, and found himself face to face with a bleached sheep’s skull testifying to the frequent use of his chosen route. After screaming to no avail for a half hour he hauled himself out and hobbled his massive frame down the rest of the cliff side bringing along his skull. Upon arriving back an hour and a half late he was still in good spirits and thankful for being protected. Later he came down with a cold, fever, and all around nasty bug which knocked him out for much of a week and thanked the Lord for the great opportunity he had for extra prayer.

Georges is also a wonderful cook. He spent the better part of two days preparing a Lord’s Day feast for us last night. It included three full courses (the first including six dishes) and arak. I can’t remember all the names but it included homous, baba ganoush, fatoush, schwarma, and several other exotic sounding tasty dishes. Not being fully Lebanese we rushed things and only took about two and a half hours at table instead of the customary four.

The life long brothers here are really an inspiring bunch, and I’m learning a tremendous amount about living this life well from them. In the interest of not going on forever I’ll have to describe them later, but their names are Dave Quintana (aka Q), Bruce Yocum, Doug Smith, and Martin Steinbereithner.

The life we share together is rich. We have morning prayer together throughout the week, evening prayer four days a week, night prayers five days, and a regular Saturday prayer time and celebrative meal called a Lord’s Day celebration. The house is a bit of a hub for all kinds of activities. A couple mornings a week I’m helping to run some training for gappers. There’s a prayer meeting every other week, various small groups for TEC, and periodic events for Charis community all meeting here on various evenings. All told it’s a great house to be a part of. This is a great place for me and I’m grateful the Lord has put me here for the year. I hope to show some of you what’s going on here in person over the next year (hint hint).

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One of the things I think I’ll try to do with this blog is just describe some of the things I’m involved with over here in Belfast.  TEC (Together Encounter Christ) is a university outreach similar to UCO (University Christian Outreach), the group back home I’ve worked with for the last five or six years.

One of my responsibilities this year is working on staff for TEC.  This looks a lot like my service back home in some ways but in others is quite different.  Fundamentally it’s the same mission: build a fervent discipleship environment where students can meet the Lord, set out on a road to lifelong radical discipleship, and share the good news they’ve found with those around them (modest goal, no). 

Perhaps that’s the most striking thing to me so far in being around TEC.  Here there is a completely different set of young people, completely different, and yet so much the same.  At root none of the differences are as important as the common relationship with Christ that UCO and TEC share.  The same Holy Spirit is calling young people to give their lives fully to God, and that looks very much the same here in Belfast and back home in Michigan.

Like back home TEC is ecumenical (made up of folks from different Christian traditions) and charismatic.  It is sponsored by Charis, a Sword of the Spirit community of families and singles here in Belfast. 

TEC has never really had much in the way of “staff”.  In the past one of the Servants of the Word here has had 10-15 hours a week to do a few things, coordinate with a volunteer or two, and lean on some of the students to do whatever needs doing.  Q (Dave Quintana) has been the brother doing that the last couple years.  He’ll continue in the same way, but now I’ve got a similar amount of time along with some other folks.  That means there is some more resource for TEC and an opportunity to do some things and grow that just haven’t been possible before.

The names here are different.  In TEC we have amongst the sisters a Maeve, Fiona, Maighread (pronounced ma-readt w/the slightest hint of g thrown in there somewhere), and Joelle (actually a Lebanese girl); on the guys side there is Patty, Georges (also Lebanese), and my favorite, Kieran (goes by Kier-so much of the time).  It’s great to finally meet someone who goes about using my middle name.  Speaking of names, TEC leads me to a bit of a quandary, specifically what to call a member of said organization.  I suppose the most common (boring) is TECer, but other possibilities include TECster, TECan (reminiscent a of an 80s video game), TECanian, TECiputian, and TECigander.  Let me know if you come up with others.

I’ll be doing a mix of things with TEC.  John and Fiona are two all stars heading up TECs outreach team and I’ll work with them closely.  I’ll be leading a small group of four guys and working with most of them one on one - encouraging them to take tangible steps in their relationship with Christ.  I’ll also be giving assorted talks and such.  I gave a talk at the TEC retreat a couple weekends ago on being committed and dedicated to each other.  I also gave a sharing about some of my own experience of coming into UCO and some of the obstacles we face in outreach.  Both seemed to go well.  Whatever chance you have to remember TEC in your prayers is really appreciated.

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