On Hospitality

"5) I commit to making our house a house of true hospitality. I will strive to make our house welcome to all. This means I will do all I can to serve our guests and our members by keeping the house clean, daily dish washing, cooking, providing meals and shelter, as well as creating welcoming conversations and activities, etc." Romans 12:13

When I first heard about The House Famous I thought that it would be a lot different than it is now. I had this image in my mind, somewhat similar to the later half of the movie “Fight Club”. I envisioned homeless people coming in and out. Everything being a mess, people talking everywhere, laughing and joking abounding, and just having general chaos everywhere.

Having moved in, I have found (with mixed feelings) that this is in fact, incorrect. People move around a lot, but it’s not as chaotic, nor as full as I originally thought it would be. We don’t have homeless folk and friends coming in and out at all hours of the day, and it’s not really like the last part of Fight Club.

This may seem like I’m going on about a very simple revelation but I’m actually going somewhere with this. What I found after living here for a while, is that things seem to go in stages. We generally work with one homeless or needy friend at a time. We spend some time getting to know one friend, we invite them over, and they spend some time with us. Then sometimes that’s where it stops, and sometimes it continues.

But right now, we’re still in that first stage. We have a homeless friend that we’ve spent some time getting to know, and now he trusts us enough to come over and visit us every evening. Almost every night, just after supper, a knock comes at the door and we hear our friends voice of greeting. He comes in, removes his coat and shoes, and takes a seat in our living room. We offer him food or drink, and he usually asks us for a glass of orange juice. After drinking his juice we spend some time asking him about his day and how things are going. In the course of our conversation he usually tells us some amazing facts about things like serial killers, or a story about how Dan Akroyd (“Dan”) nearly ran him over with a car. We all laugh along and enjoy his stories and his company. Then when he feels he’s stayed long enough he’ll remark “Well, I better go” and then he’ll get up, put his coat back on and head back outside.

This isn’t what I was expecting, but regardless of my expectations, whenever our friend leaves, I feel as if in some way Jesus has just left our home.

Something Ain't Right Here.

Like most Canadians I have spent most of my life knowing our interactions with our Aboriginal peoples were not as they should be, but that most of the problems were in the past and that they weren't really my problem. But since my trip with CPT to Ardoch I've started to see things differently. First off, the problems of the past have not been resolved. Canada and the First Nations have signed treaties that outline our relationship with one another. In the treaties Native Canadians were supposed to be consulted on any decision that involved extracting resources or building stuff on the lands they let the settlers use, and they were supposed to be able to fish and hunt on those lands. These treaties were never honoured. Many times, the land that was not even given over to Canada was taken, moving the people that had lived there for thousands of years unceremoniously to less valuable lands. This is how we as Canadians 200 years later are still involved in the problems. Canada is one of the richest countries in the world, and the wealth that has been gathered over the last 200 years has been from extraction of natural resources. Natural resources are gathered from the land. In many cases the land was not even ours. In best case scenerios we did not honour our end of the treaty, ignoring our responsibility to consult First Nations groups about whether we could proceed with exploiting the land. As a result, 200 years later, the average Canadian enjoys comforts unheard of throughout much of the history of the world, while most First Nations communities remain poor. And we continue to benefit from this situation by sticking to archaic laws that work to our advantage and the disadvantage of Indigenous Peoples.

This injustice is manifesting itself again in Algonquin Territory of Ardoch First Nation and Shabot Obaajiwan First Nation. Despite all the environmental concerns about uranium mining, the negotiations, blocking the gate, and doing just about anything to keep Frontenac Ventures from drilling for uranium, on December 1st, money talked and drilling was accepted as a possibility by the Shabot/Obaajiwan First Nation. The situation was made to look like a beautiful collaboration between Frontenac Ventures, Ontario, and First Nations groups; however, Ardoch First Nation has still not agreed to the terms, and Shabot Obaajawin made its deal with 77 million dollar lawsuit hanging over their heads. The deal looks a little more like coersion than collaboration to me.

Bob Lovelace says it better here.

My delegation with CPT

From November 15-23 I had the blessing to be sent by the House Famous to participate on a Christian Peacemaking Teams delegation in Algonquin Territory supporting Algonquin First Nation groups' attempts to keep a Frontenac Ventures Uranium Mine off of their traditional lands.
Throughout the very busy week we met with Ardoch First Nation leaders including Bob Lovelace and current co-chief Mireille Lapointe who taught us much about their claims to the land and how Canada has continued to ignore First Nations claims throughout our history. It seems our province of Ontario has been especially bad with honoring treaties, placing economic interests above right relations with Aboriginal People. We also met with the OPP who taught us about their ART and MELT teams which were developed in response to Dudley George's death at Ipperwash, and have improved the OPP's interaction with First Nation's groups. Finally we met with settlers in the area, some who support the mine and many who were against the mine. It was interesting to learn the full perspective on the situation as too often I read about injustices such as these and then wonder how much of what was said was true, and most often I end up doing nothing. This time will be different.

It seems to me that at the very least, the uranium mine should be stopped for the sake of right relations with the Algonquin people who have claim to the land. They never gave up the land to Canada with any treaty. They have the right then to determine whether a mine should exist.

Numerous towns and cities including Kingston, Ottawa, and Perth have declared a moratorium on uranium mining and it's clear that uranium mining is an environmental disaster. By attending this delegation I was able to look on the area that would be affected by the extraction of uranium, and it includes the whole Mississippi River (of Ontario!) watershed. I went on my first canoe trip with Camp IAWAH on the Mississippi and my memories are marked with the stunning beauty of the land we passed as we paddled. That land needs to be protected from being poisoned by uranium byproducts. Some things are more important than economic development.

I learned a lot on my trip about right relations, my own white privilege, racism and even spirituality. I spent a lot of time reflecting on ways I have benefited from ignoring Aboriginal Rights. I then spent a lot of time lamenting and repenting. At that point I was also blessed to learn that guilt will only keep me doing nothing, that moving forward to establish right relationships is far more important than feeling bad. A huge lesson.

Here is a report on our delegation from Christian Peacemaking Teams

Barriere Lake: is this Canada?

As all of the recent media headlines worry over the economy, the political posturing of the "coalition" vs Harper, and of course all of the festive preparations for Christmas, there is one story that has not made it to the headlines. But it should.

Peaceful protesters, with children and elderly people present, are tear gassed and beaten by a riot squad. This happens frequently. The issue and the images are shocking, it seems hard to believe that this kind of thing is happening in Canada. The conditions that the Barriere Lake community is forced to live under are at third-world levels; no power, no water, no services such as hospital access, random arrests and puppet leaders installed to be in power with no consultation from the residents. It is sickening and shameful. But we can do something about it.

Watch the video. Check the website. Take Action. Don't allow this insane oppression to continue unnoticed.

http://blip.tv/file/1391794
http://barrierelakesolidarity.blogspot.com/

Cultivating Goodness by Shane Claiborne

Community is about surrounding ourselves with people who remind us of who we want to become, people in whom we can see Jesus...and hopefully those people rub off on us a little.

Certainly God loves us as we are, not for who we could be - not in spite of our shortcomings but with them. And yet being a Church of and for the broken doesn't mean we stay in our brokenness. We are to be wounded healers. As with Christ, it is from our own wounds and brokenness and humiliation that we are empowered to heal others. And we need to be healers, communities where people can heal. As Dorothy Day says, we have to create an environment where it is easier to be good.

For many of us, the judgmental, arrogant, legalistic Christianity we knew growing up has created a suspicion of discipline and order that can lead to a pretty sloppy spirituality. By reacting to the institutional sickness, we can easily find ourselves with little in place to help us heal from our wounds, create new disciplines, and carve out a space where goodness triumphs.

I just read an article that spoke about one of the parenting gurus who died a few years back. He was one of those psychiatrists who pioneered the movement that taught parents not to discipline their kids but to allow autonomy as kids make mistakes and decisions on their own (let them touch a candle so they learn what "hot" is...). On his deathbed this doctor confessed that the social scientists were wrong, saying, "We have raised a generation of brats" Much of the seeker sensitive, postmodern church is in danger of making the same mistake. We can raise up a generation of spiritual brats, that do whatever we want and no one can tell us otherwise. People come to the altar singing "Just as I am" and leave just as they were - a church that teaches what to believe but now how to live. A church that is scared of spiritual disciplines like simplicity, fasting, solitude, and chastity will not produce very good disciples.

Community is pretty hip these days. The longing for community is in all of us, to love and to be loved. But if community doesn't exist for something beyond ourselves it will die, atrophy, suffocate. "Discipline" and "Disciple" share the same roots, and without discipline we become little more than hippie communes or frat houses, we fall short of God's dream to form a new humanity with distinct practices that act as contrast culture to the rest of society.

Like any culture, we who follow the Way of Jesus have distinct ways of eating and partying, different from the culture of consumption, homogeneity and hedonism of the world around us. There's that beautiful passage (Luke 14) where Jesus tells us when we throw a party we are not to invite our friends but to invite the poor, crippled, lame, and blind...all those who might find themselves on the margins of other parties. Our homes, our living rooms, even our parties can become places of solstice and hospitality for those with addictions and struggles. But it doesn't happen without intentionality.

I long for our community houses to be known as safe places for folks to recover from the temptations we face, for the momentum to move away from substances that are so destructive, or at least numbingly unfruitful, to ourselves and to our neighbors. We are a recovery community, for sinners recovering from all sorts of addictions. Our community should be a place where people can detox - whether that be from alcohol, tobacco, gluttony, shopping, or gossip - where there is a tipping point towards goodness rather than away from it. And may we catch each other with grace when we fall short of who we want to be.

the Advent Conspiracy

The thought of Christmas approaching often makes me feel..... muddled. I feel excited and happy about eating special Christmas foods and treats, seeing family and doing family traditions, like decorating the tree, or going to a candle-light church service on Christmas Eve.

But then I also feel kind of sick and anxious when I think about the mad rush of people throwing money around on meaningless items, the crazy consumption and excessive spending, the emptiness of what our society has turned this holiday into.

Each year, we've attempted to strip away some of the clutter and junk that has become attached to the Christmas season; and each year we've found more and more people doing the same thing, finding hope and meaning without the stacks of presents and insane credit card bills in January.

It's time to re-think Christmas in North America. Click Here if you feel the same.

Or check out this video here.

A Moment With Taylor....

Hello there. My name's Taylor, and I am the newest addition to the House Famous. I've been enjoying my time here and have been becoming more acquainted with the idea of community living. Though if I have to listen to Todd sing along with Bryan Adams again, I might leave.

Spending the night on the streets of Ottawa was quite an adventure. Despite the cold and not being able to sleep, I found it to be a very beneficial learning experience.
After our group split up, I wandered a bit before settling down on a busy sidewalk to panhandle. This part of the night probably had the greatest impact on me. I realized right away the humiliation that comes with being homeless.

Most of those passing by did their best to ignore me, which is understandable. No one wants to be caught staring. I've done this one a lot myself. I suddenly need to grab something from my bag, or adjust my coat, or look across the street... anything to avoid eye contact. I realize now that this just adds to the feelings of loneliness those on the street deal with.
Others muttered their opinions of the homeless to their companions.

"He's not a failure at life, just a failure at getting a paycheque!"

Some others, in a greater attempt at politeness contained their laughter and comments until they were a few feet past me.

A few dropped some change into my hat.

No one said a word to me. And why should they have? I was homeless and probably a drug addict, a criminal, the scum of the earth. I’d probably just pester them for some change to blow on any number of my addictions.

I realized how much we have isolated the poor and destitute among us. I’ve been just as much a part of this even though I’ve spent many hours volunteering in soup kitchens. Somehow in the past I’ve allowed myself to amicably interact with street people while volunteering, and then completely ignore them when I pass them on the street.

This whole ordeal allowed me a small glimpse into the realities faced by those who are homeless. I say a small glimpse because although I experienced the frustration of trying to sleep on the cold Canadian streets, I did not and have not experienced the type of situations that many of our homeless friends find themselves in.

The constant hunger. The loneliness. Deteriorating mental health. Lack of money. Rejection. Addictions. Lives full of abuses.

I guess the fruition of my experience is just beginning to show. I am not an outgoing person by any means, but I am trying to interact more with those I pass on the streets. I’ve always respected my grandfather for the way he treated street people. He often felt compelled to help the homeless he came into contact with, but instead of just giving them some small change, he would invite them to sit down for a full meal at the closest fast food restaurant and actually engage in meaningful conversation with them. It’s this sort of creative compassion that our friends on the street need to encounter.