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radical love, Pine Hills style
The Radical Love Project has been a little quiet lately. Well, that’s not quite true. The blog has been quiet, but the project has been busy, and sometimes pretty loud. Lots of struggle alternating with prayer & meditation, and we reach for love in every moment with every person — especially with each other.
Trusting in the tao (aka the way) to carry us through — sometimes I picture the way as a flowing river — we have uprooted, and replanted ourselves on the urban frontier of Columbus, Ohio.
A new context for radical love
Remember when I said this is not a homeless ministry? I tried to say that it’s about radical relationship, scandalous, risk-taking love, honesty & presence in every moment.
In Eugene, it manifested partly (but not entirely) under a bridge, during meals shared with the folk who live there, under that very bridge, year round. And it spread to hospital rooms, courtrooms, and bars — a beautiful, amazing experience.
It’d be so easy to go across town to the riverbank where I know folks are camped. And I’m tempted. In fact, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t socks and hand-warmers stashed in our car, just in case.
But I don’t want to try to re-create the experience we had in Eugene. I think that deep down, if I go to those places, I’ll be looking for the friends I left behind in Eugene. I miss them so much! Maybe I’m avoiding facing the fact that they aren’t there? But that’s not the main reason we aren’t seeking out the same kind of ministry we had back home.
The main reason is that it’s clear across town, and it’s clear that there’s plenty of room for our radical presence right here in our neighborhood, Pine Hills.
Pine Hills
Pine Hills isn’t known for either pines, or hills. It’s a flat subdivision with old maple and oak trees, and even older houses, a few blocks from where I grew up. In the late 60s and early 70s, families — mostly white, mostly two-parent, mostly moms at home — bought these houses here on the suburban edge of town, and sent their kids off to the neighborhood school.
But cities have changed since then. Where once almost everyone in the neighborhood owned their homes, now lots are rentals. Where manicured lawns and tended gardens once decorated clean sidewalks, now chipped curbs line damaged lawns holding broken-down cars and the occasional empty beer can. Where nuclear families with 2.4 kids once attended each others’ parties, now single parents, multi-generational families, or groups of roommates share a house, keeping mostly to themselves.
But while the neighborhood isn’t as tidy as it was when I was a kid, it’s way more diverse. And while there is struggle visible on the surface of this ‘hood, I’m not sure that’s entirely a bad thing. Appearances are usually deceiving, and I know when I was growing up in the early seventies, there were things going on that were kept hidden. But even if life was more comfortable for some, comfort can be isolating. Difficulty is — or can be — an opportunity for connection.
I admit I don’t mind so much, trading in the shiny, orderly 20th Century world of ticky-tacky boxes for this patched-up ramshackle collection of neighbors.
Neighborhood
In the short time we’ve been here, we’ve met neighbors who are widowed and have lived here for 30 years. We’ve learned of young people who’ve been taken away to jail for drugs, guns, burglary. We’ve met a single mom and her kids while chasing off the two feral dogs who were tearing up a cat in her front yard.
We’ve met the civic association folks and the blockwatch folks (not as much overlap as you’d think). We’ve seen lots of kids, and heard tenuous rumors of Bloods and Crips. (If you see 5-6 kids together, we’re told, call the police and report them as suspicious.)
“A big part of this,” Tracy tells me, “is about not insulating ourselves from our actual world.” It’s about opening our eyes and hearts to what is immediately around us.” These days, I think getting in the car to drive across town for “homeless ministry” wouldn’t do justice to the beautiful task God has given us, to love the people placed right in front of us. To bring everything we’ve got to loving God & to love our neighbors with what’s real inside us.
So here we are. Pine Hills, you won’t know what hit you. :)
Posted by Angela under about us
Saturday, January 30, 2010
2 Comments
Angela,
Love your openness here. I sometimes marvel at how we try to solve problems half way around the world when God is calling us to the people next door.
I’m reading the Tao Te Ching right now. Deep wisdom.
J
Another translation ends like this: