Van Gogh and I are kindred spirits.

"The combination of life in the country, Something on High, and one's service to others constituted for Vincent the best of lives. One of the unresolved struggles in Vincent's life was his concern for the oppressed of the newly industrialized cities, yet his love and need for the rural countryside of his childhood memories. Would he choose the new city or the old countryside? Would he paint the cities of Dickens and the Goncourt brothers or become a peasant painter like Millet? Perhaps his life was too brief to reach resolution, but most often he maintained a suspicion of the city as an environment unsuited for profound thought, and chose the countryside for recuperation and labor."


One of my favorite books is Van Gogh and God: A Creative Spiritual Quest by Cliff Edwards. Every time I read it, I notice more correlations between myself and Van Gogh. This may trouble those of you who know nothing about this great artist apart from his mutilated ear - if this is true for you, I do indeed recommend this book!

Living in the city this past year brought a new kind of flavor to my life. Houston has often been on my mind these past several weeks. And yet I can't help wondering if, as an artist, I will continue to find myself seeking out a quieter environment. It is mostly in retrospect that I see how hard it was for me to think well and listen well in the city. I crave the countryside; broad green spaces, orchards, organic forms...I think it is no coincidence that part of the etymology of my first name is "late summer" (my favorite time of year) and "harvester" (I seem to reap a whole lot more than I sow), that my middle name means "meadow," and that my surname means "new town" (I always seem to be going someplace new).

The truth is that I feel very much alive here at Koinonia, only two weeks in. The sunshine, dirt, and wildlife are breaths of fresh air to my soul. But like Van Gogh, I'm feeling torn between the city and the country. Maybe it's that my experiences of the city are wrapped up in beautiful memories of Mission Year, and memories here are only beginning to grow.

Today as I dug around in the garden dirt, Van Gogh's words came to mind: "If we study Japanese art, we see a man who is undoubtedly wise, philosophic and intelligent, who spends his time doing what? In studying the distance between the earth and the moon? No. In studying Bismark's policy? No. He studies a single blade of grass...we must return to nature in spite of our education and our work in a world of convention." (Letter 542)

And here's some closing food for thought by Parker Palmer, in celebration of community, nature, and late summer: "Here is a summertime truth: abundance is a communal act, the joint creation of an incredibly complex ecology in which each part functions on behalf of the whole and, in return, is sustained by the whole. Community doesn't just create abundance - community is abundance. If we could learn that equation from the world of nature, the human world might be transformed." (Let Your Life Speak)

A prayer for this season of life:

Loving Father, thank you for today.
I recall and confess that you are faithful and good.

Help me to recognize my belovedness.
You desire faithfulness, not success.
I am valued apart from performance.

Help me to recognize my limits,
to do only what you have called me to today,
and to exercise grace with myself.

Help me to actively seek out imago dei in my brothers and sisters,
to acknowledge openly the good I see in them,
to help them see their own potential,
and to build them up with my words.

Our battle is not against flesh and blood, so help me to recognize the forces of darkness at work in the world around me. Protect me from them, and shine your light through me. May I tirelessly protest the darkness and fearlessly declare with my life the immediate and ultimate victory of life over death.

I step into this day with a heart full of gratitude.


Latest newsletter: http://us6.campaign-archive1.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=e29cfb8681


"I know that joining Mission Year is going to mess with how I live the rest of my life, and that’s why I’m here..." (from my first blog)

"Let him thank God on his knees and declare: It is grace, nothing but grace, that we are allowed to live in community with Christian brethren." Bonhoeffer, Life Together

So what is it you're doing again?

(The most commonly asked question since I applied for Mission Year...)

Just wanted to share a helpful handful of podcasts published over the past couple years on "Emerging Communities - Ancient Roots: A Christian Exploration of Contemporary Intentional Communities:
http://emerging-communities.com/category/podcast/

There are three podcasts on Koinonia (Episodes 22-24)

I would also recommend:

Episode 26, an interview with Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, one of the major spokespersons for what people are calling "new monasticism." (He clarifies that "If new monasticism is a movement, it's much more like a river that we fell into than a march that we helped organize...this is not a movement in which any of us are heroic organizers. It is, instead, something bigger than all of us - a movement that is moving us toward the kingdom of our God.) I've been avoiding using the term "new monasticism" because it seems to be misleading. It is, in it's most basic description, a phrase used to describe Jesus followers who are committed to a new way of life in community (http://www.newmonasticism.org/). Please see the "12 Marks" of new monasticism below for a fuller outline. This isn't some wild new fad that I can use to point to myself and say, "Hey, look at me and what I'm doing!" I hope not, at least. If you'd like to borrow Jonathan's book, New Monasticism: What It Has to Say to Today's Church, let me know. There's a rich history behind what's happening today in places like Koinonia and Mission Year.

Episode 29, an interview with Scott Bessenecker of Intervarsity Christian Fellowship. He touches on the difference between new friars and new monastics, and speaks about his hopes and concerns about younger generations.

I'm still listening to them myself, so I'll keep you posted...

12 Marks of a New Monasticism
(Discerned as articulations of shared values and practices at the June 2004 New Monasticism gathering.)

1. Relocation to the abandoned places of Empire.
2. Sharing economic resources with fellow community members and the needy among us.
3. Hospitality to the stranger
4. Lament for racial divisions within the church and our communities combined with the active pursuit of a just reconciliation.
5. Humble submission to Christ’s body, the church.
6. Intentional formation in the way of Christ and the rule of the community along the lines of the old novitiate.
7. Nurturing common life among members of intentional community.
8. Support for celibate singles alongside monogamous married couples and their children.
9. Geographical proximity to community members who share a common rule of life.
10. Care for the plot of God’s earth given to us along with support of our local economies.
11. Peacemaking in the midst of violence and conflict resolution within communities along the lines of Matthew 18.
12. Commitment to a disciplined contemplative life.

A few Mission Year newsletter archives...

...because I forgot to post them as I went along:

March: http://us6.campaign-archive2.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=e4a7a76469
April: http://us6.campaign-archive1.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=11112e978a
May: http://us6.campaign-archive1.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=c228fadf75
June: http://us6.campaign-archive2.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=3503250263
July: http://us6.campaign-archive1.com/?u=abce379ebb&id=38b74ff074&e=44f124d8f5

First Koinonia Newsletter!

Right here:

http://eepurl.com/DNtk1

:)

Assorted Reflections

I hate good-byes. Physical uprooting is hard. So hard. And so in some sense it is ironic that I have left home to come home, only to look for a new home. During Mission Year we talked about the wisdom of stability, of investing in a community for the long run. As much as I enjoy traveling and meeting new people, it is my prayer that God will soon lead me to a place where I can put the wisdom of stability into practice. A place where I can confidently put down roots. Maybe that's Koinonia, maybe it's not. Lately I feel like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit, and I sincerely wish to minimize good-byes in my life.

During my application process for World Vision this past spring, I realized that yes, I care about justice...but I would rather live a life that reflects justice than pursue a career of justice (not that both couldn't happen)...I would rather be painting beautiful things while establishing habits of advocacy, prayer, research, and lifestyle application. Perhaps in the future a part-time job will open up where I can exercise that passion. But there is no obligation just because I care and because people know that I care. It's about pleasing God, not people, thank goodness. I applied to World Vision because 1) they led me to believe that I was guaranteed the position and 2) because the job offered the illusion of security. I could gain experience in the "real world," add something to my resume, make money for a change...not because I was actually concerned about achieving these things, or because I actually wanted the position, but because I knew it would please people. Maybe I could convince them that I'm being responsible with my life...I firmly believe that God closed that door, not because I wasn't qualified, but because He knows me better than I do, and I am so thankful.

I'm realizing in a new way that personal success is something I hold onto too tightly. We don't come to the end of our life and hand God a list of our achievements – paychecks, completed projects, lives we've touched, jobs, diplomas, how many friends we made...Life is not a race to success, and our value is not measured by success. I strove all through college to bring social justice to the attention of my campus, but did I leave any tangible impact? If not, does that negate the value of what I did? Something to which God has called my attention this year is that He does not desire success and impact from me, but faithfulness.


I am significantly more comfortable with me, and I am becoming myself:

"Not long ago a nineteen-year-old assistant from a l’Arche community came to see me. I asked him how he was getting on. He told me he was doing all right, but that it was hard. I asked him to tell me something good that was happening. He said, “I am becoming myself.” Through all the stages of growth, is it not the real aim of life to become ourselves, to allow the barriers to come down so that the deepest “I” can emerge? Not to become what others want us to be, not to cry out to get their attention at any price. Not to refuse life, or to try to be someone else, but to grow from the seed of life within each of us, rooted in our earth and history. Is this not our journey home?"
– Jean Vanier


And here's a few words from Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton, that resonate with me deeply:

"Therefore I shall devote myself, my time, my energy, my talents, to the service of South Africa. I shall no longer ask myself if this or that is expedient, but only if it is right. I shall do this, not because I am noble or unselfish, but because life slips away, and because I need for the rest of my journey a star that will not play false to me, a compass that will not lie. I shall do this, not because I am a negrophile and a hater of my own, but because I cannot find it in me to do anything else. I am lost when I balance this against that, I am lost when I ask if this is safe, I am lost when I ask if men, white men or black men, Englishmen or Afrikaners, Gentiles or Jews, will approve. Therefore I shall try to do what is right, and to speak what is true. I do this not because I am courageous and honest, but because it is the only way to end the conflict of my deepest soul. I do it because I am no longer able to aspire to the highest with one part of myself, and to deny it with another. I do not wish to live like that, I would rather die than live like that. I understand better those who have died for their convictions, and have not thought it was wonderful or brave or noble to die. They died rather than live, that was all. Yet it would not be honest to pretend that it is solely an inverted selfishness that moves me. I am moved by something that is not my own, that moves me to do what is right, at whatever cost it may be..."

Grace and peace,

Tracy

The incredible journey gives way to a new season...

What is Koinonia?

Koinonia is an intentional Christian community that seeks to be a demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God. We strive to love our neighbor and our enemies, share what we have, and be an active peacemaker. Founded in 1942 by Clarence & Florence Jordan and Martin & Mabel England, Koinonia is home of the Cotton Patch Gospel, birthplace of Habitat for Humanity, Jubilee Partners, Prison Jail Project, Fuller Center for Housing and other ministries.

www.koinoniapartners.org

Koinonia – from the ancient Greek, meaning loving fellowship or community.

The first “layer” of internship is three months. I'll be there September-December. Interns may apply for a second layer of a year-long internship afterward.

The three major components of the internship are:
Educational: Interns meet each day for study session, where we look at specific characteristics of the Kingdom of God (i.e. prayer, work, study, service, fellowship, love, joy, hospitality, peace and reconciliation) and explore groups who have actively sought to demonstrate these characteristics, paying attention to how our own lives can be shaped by these examples.

We study the history of Koinonia Farm, other intentional communities, individuals, and social movements which have had a major impact around the world. Interns learn about the movements and organizations Koinonia has given birth to such as Habitat for Humanity, the Fuller Center for Housing, Jubilee Partners, the Prison and Jail Project as well as others. There is a fair amount of material covered during these classes, and interns participate in weekly journaling activities as well. Outside of these sessions, interns learn about a variety of topics from our community members, ranging from Permaculture, local African-American history, Non-violent communication, etc.

Spiritual: We at Koinonia have chosen to live as a house church similar to the early Christians described in the book of Acts. We have daily chapel and devotion times, scripture reading, prayer times, and a great deal of fellowship and breaking of bread. We invite interns as guests in our house church, and expect them to participate in our daily services and gatherings. In addition to the common gatherings, interns spend one morning each week in group spiritual direction. We share in a practice called “Examen,” created by St. Ignatius of Loyola.

Manual Labor: The third major component is what you would expect of a typical internship. However, this is not the main purpose of our internship program. The internship is a more holistic experience. It is an invitation into our way of life, not just the work of our life. Interns participate in a wide variety of manual labor opportunities, depending on the season.

In brief, we manage a working farm, with 90 acres of pecan orchards, an on-site pecan processing facility, grass-fed cattle and other livestock, and a variety of other farming enterprises. We offer a ministry of hospitality, welcoming thousands of people each year from all around the globe. We also manage a non-profit organization, a mail-order business including an on-site bakery, an Educational Cooperative, and a variety of other small ministries. All of this is done by our small fellowship with the help of a few seasonal workers. Koinonia provides shared housing, the common meal at noon on weekdays and four common dinners, and a small subsidy for other meals.

Why Koinonia?

The hints of why I'm doing this are scattered in my previous posts. It's funny to me that I stumbled upon Koinonia the same way that I stumbled upon Mission Year: A friend mentioned it in passing, and something stirred in my soul enough to move me to apply that same day. At the time the idea seemed nearly irrational, and yet crazy enough to transpire. Lo and behold, here I am.

During my final year of college, as I began the long process of figuring out what came next, I distinctly recall God saying to me: “Go south.” Since coming to Houston, I find myself falling in love with the South. I also recall a sense of peace as I entered Mission Year that God would show me sometime during the year what was next, that I should not worry, but focus on what was in front of me. My primary hope over the past several months in my search for "what's next" has been to find an intentional community modeled after the values of Acts 2:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued meeting together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”

This is the model of the early church. Community. Hospitality. Having all things in common. Life together.

So...why a farm? Because it sounds awesome! When home has sprung to mind this year, some of the most common images have been memories of the fruit farm where I've worked over the past several summers. Something about working in the orchards is the Kingdom of Heaven to me. Farming was in the back of my mind long before I even heard of Koinonia. Furthermore, I am drawn by Koinonia's commitment to a sustainable lifestyle and their variety of active ministries, which you can learn more about on their website.

My ultimate hope for life is to actively make art in the context of community. I don't know yet how that will come together, but as I mentioned in my last post, I am learning to let the process inform the work. I know I am an artist. I am excited to be an artist. And I am thankful that I have so many people in my life to hold me accountable to living that out. But art also permeates everything I do. Mission Year has revealed to me in new ways how I am an artist, and I am amazed in retrospect by just how many opportunities God provided this year for me to live art out. I guess this is me letting y'all know that you don't have to worry about me leaving art of this. :) It will all come together.

In short, I am STOKED. My teammates (whom I am missing tremendously today!!!) can testify to my tears of joy upon finding out I was accepted. It has been a long, painful, and humbling waiting season, and I believe that this is specifically what God had in mind for me all along.