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brownhouse – connection memories – again
I was inspired by Kevin‘s recent announcement that he and Tracy and their family will soon be moving out of the Brownhouse in Cincinnati - inspired to share a very vivid and important memory/story of that place and of the connections made there for me and some others some years ago. I’ve shared this here before, but a while back. It’s definitely appropriate to do so again now.
If you haven’t shared in the life which has flowed in and through that house and the people living in it, I am sorry for you. God has used this place, these people, to enrich the lives of so many. I have been one of them, and my whole family. So, I share this memory with all of you. I wrote this in 2005 – the journal entries are from 2001, from my first trip to the Brownhouse – to a little weekend deal called the Young Leaders Roundtable. Kevin Rains, myself, Peter Matthews, Tawd Bell, Chad Canipe, Tom Planck, Mark Palmer – the photo is not of that event, but more than tells a story of memory and deep connection.
From a blog post – Feb. 27, 2005
I’ve been reading through an old journal lately and ran into an entry or two that I want to post here. It may only mean something to those involved in the original entry, and I want it to, but I suspect it may have meaning to others as well. A few years ago in the history of vbcc I was feeling pretty alone and isolated and at times, very discouraged. Then God… This little weekend I refer to in this post was very significant in my journey. Here you go – dedicated to our Lord, who brought us all together, and to my very good friends, whom I have been knit together with in this thing.
July 25, 2001
Here at Vineyard Central – arrived around 8pm – hot – no air cond. Pete and I are in a room together in the “Brown House.” Nice evening. We talked together – then sat on the front porch and talked with Kevin, Dave and Jody. We prayed Compline with them and talked some more. In our room now. We’ve been talking about church, Vine & Branches, vision – good stuff. My stomach was freaked out earlier but it’s better now – God is good. I’m hungry.Good things will happen here. I can see that already. Fill tomorrow, Lord – make it fruitful and refreshing. Amen.
July 26, 2001
Good day. Said Morning Prayer with the Community House. I prayed the night office alone in my room. Introductions today – will all sort of told our stories. I talk too much. It was good to hear others’ struggles – the communion of suffering. It’s good to hear that it’s common – good group of guys. The worship & ministry time was very good. The worship time lead into a time of ministry to those of us at the conference – prophecies. I was told a couple of things: to leave old things, doctrines/teachings, behind and go on to totally new things – till new soil – teach prophetically (I have heard this inside myself before)… Also that I should not strive – it won’t accomplish the things that God wants to accomplish… It was very encouraging. I look forward to tomorrow as well – Venne Sancte Spiritus! Fill us tomorrow Holy Spirit. Amen.July 28, 2001
On the porch at the Brown House – this morning ended the Roundtable. I am ready to go home but I have had a good time here. Getting to know these guys has been a very good thing. This is a very real bunch of people. It was very refreshing to be around people that you can be transparent with. Liz and the kids are coming up here to get me tonight – I look forward to seeing them. We’ll to the Allgroup thing and then go home.We talked some about communal living yesterday. I think I know I will never do that. Not because I think it’s bad or weird – just not for me. Now, the living in “proximity” could work – a community of separate homes with a common meeting and dining area, people having their own jobs, etc. but sharing life in many ways – a common garden maybe, eating dinner together a few nights a week, daily prayer together in the common house – we’ll see if that ever happens.
Red glowing walls
Smoke
Black, horn-rimmed glasses
and lesbians
Look over, not down
Household Saints
Beer
dead sadness and Rock songs
turn those neon signs off please
Look over at them
not down
That’s a big time valuable memory right there. I deeply remember almost every part of that weekend. There I got to know Kevin much better. I love this man. I met the great Mark Palmer for the first time, and Chad Canipe. Tawd was also there and Tom Planck. It was the beginning of some deeper things – some very significant connections.
———————-
I wrote that poem after we had gone to a bar the last night of the roundtable. I still remember all this very clearly. I am so very grateful for what I experienced through and in that house, for all the connections I’ve made in that place. This moving on makes me a little sad, nostalgic I guess. But life moves on, and we must move on in it. I pray great and new blessings on the Rains family in this new stage of life. I love you guys, very deeply.
Originally written and posted on August 6, 2007…
Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up a mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus
that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.
Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen. —The Gospel of Luke 9:28b-36
For a while now, every time I hear this story, every time the liturgy brings it around to our attention, I have thought of it like this: First, it’s a very mystical scene here. This is not the normal fare, even in the Gospels. The Bible is a book full of miracles but even with that, this is a glorious picture we’ve been painted. It’s not fully comprehensible either. It sounds like we should understand what we’re hearing but really, we’re only seeing shadows, glimpses.
Then I think, as one will, of what happened and the men there, the Apostles, who saw it, part of it. I wonder what they saw and how they saw it. I know what is written, but I also know that even though a man “wrote” it while inspired by the Holy Spirit, he was still in this realm of existence and could only grasp so much without being fully enveloped in the reality of what it was he was trying to describe there. He was still in process and so are we. Our knowledge is not yet perfect.
I think of a couple of other things – this light, shining, clouds, the two Prophets appearing. The I wonder how it was that the three Apostles knew who they were looking at. Did Jesus introduce them? Didn’t seem like. Did they have name tags hanging around their necks? I kind of doubt it. Oh, they recognized them from the pictur… wait. So, this was Elijah and Moses – they knew that, they just did. Now, I don’t want to put too much into one thing here, but bear with me. I think it fits. I believe this is in the folds of the Scriptural garment here with its many layers. I believe, for just a few minutes, Jesus pulled back the veil. I mean THE veil – the one that separates this dimension from that one, over there. And I believe that light, that eternal light was a reflection of the Kind of Light that, presently, we cannot fully comprehend.
So, in anticipation of the great reconnection that He was in the process of enacting, He opened the gates, as it were. And a few very weird things happened. Things that don’t totally make a ton of earthly sense. I see this as a moment of dimensional unity, where the Apostles, for just a little bit, knew as they were known. But they didn’t understand what was happening to them at the time. Thus the reaction after. I’m sure they grew to understand later, and I’m really sure they know now what they were experiencing.
The Transfiguration wasn’t just about Jesus. It was about us, all of us. It IS about us, about the amazing journey we are now on. He has drawn us into His Fullness. And the more we allow ourselves to be opened up, drawn in further, the more we will be transformed, transfigured ourselves. The Transfiguration is a first taste of the fullness of Eternal Life here and now. So when it comes around every year, we should take that opportunity to think of the fullness of Life to which we have been called. We should be extremely grateful that, ultimately, He has not left us confused on the mountain side. Ultimately, we are now in Him, and being drawn ever deeper into the Life of the Transfigured One.
advent’s last breath
…and I feel like I have no breath. It is now technically Christmas Eve, 2011. I am personally approaching what has been for me, the most spiritually hollow Advent and Christmas of my adult life thus far. It’s just here. No Advent wreath. No family devotions. The first time in a very long time we haven’t at least attempted to light candles and focus and pray as a family during this season. I am sad because of this. I don’t really know what to think about it. It’s not, for us and me right now, an easy thing to interpret. I’m not entirely sure how we got here – not even sure where “here” is.
This has not been a good year – not really. It has been OK. I can call it that. Working too much for not enough. Making it, though. Scattered in all kinds of directions. A growing realization of dreams and visions fading – seems like they’re fading away. I hope they are not disappearing altogether, but it feels like it. Questioning big decisions. Feeling (I know what I’m saying – “feeling”) far away from God, farther than ever. In a nearly constant state of regret, fearing what I’ve done to my children, to their faith, to the stability of their future lives. All these things.
One thing after another going somehow wrong. It feels like we’re under a curse. Where’s my Mojo hand!? I’m not serious… about the mojo thing. I think the fairy folk have taken our butter away! Any Irish folk out there? What do I do? Bury a St. Joseph statue upside down in my yard?? No wait, that’s to sell your house. Spin around three times, crossing myself while praying 47 Hail Marys??? Aaahhh, probably not.
Perhaps just continue to live as I’m able and try to simply do what I know to do. Probably that. I am not, though, going to hold out some kind of high hope that this will accomplish much in the way of making me feel better. I’m not sure about that any more. I do believe. I believe in Him. This will all be, of course, a part of continually re-figuring out what that means and how that works. Maybe some period of blindness will make my vision eventually sharper. Maybe being under water without breath for a while will make my lungs stronger. Maybe, hopefully, through this kind of death, we will, I will, come through the veil and back to life, to a more real and fuller life than before. Maybe.
069 - 07/31/11
