Elements of Community - Contribution of All

When my nephew was still a toddler, he would watch my brothers play video games and inevitably ask to join in. They would give him an unplugged controller and explain to him his objective. He would spend the next five to ten minutes, depending upon his attention span, mashing buttons indiscriminately, convinced that we was playing some crucial part in this game. At some point, he would ask, "Which guy am I?"

"You're the blue one," one of my brothers would respond.

Puzzled, he would retort, "Well, why isn't he going where I'm telling him to go?"

That's mean, right? Making a kid think he has just helped win the Stanley Cup when all he has really done is put a little more wear on an already broken controller. Sadly, this parallels the way many of our communities function. Sure, we tell ourselves that everyone has to play their part in order for us to get where we need to go, but that is not the way we choose our roles and design our systems. The harsh reality is that most communities have heroes and victims - the people that fix and the people that need fixing. There is this subtle, yet impenetrable, wall that partitions those serving from those being served. Those that serve stay busy cleaning up the messes of the others, and their gifts are exalted as indispensable for the life of the community. Those that are served are coddled, get accustomed to the attention and buy into the lie that they really don't have anything to contribute after all. But, the system continues because egos on both sides are appeased. Heroes celebrate their altruistic martyrdom and functionality; victims enjoy the entitlement and the center of attention status. But, it could be different. (See Romans 12:6-7)

I wish I could say that we in the Sombra Road House have it all figured out. Sadly, we display the same tendency to fall into typecast roles of fixers and the fixed. I think I came to Brasil with this notion that I was in a position where I had everything to give. The guys come from spots where they were more convinced of their needs than their gifts. This makes for a deadly combo. I would say we are starting to make some adjustments in this area. This entails three postures. First, we have to help the guys recognize their gifts. Second, we have to situate the weight of the community on these gifts. Third, we have to allow our egos to recede to the point where we can abdicate control and allow for mistakes. The cool thing that I've discovered in ceasing to play the hero is that my wife and I are far more blessed by these guys' presence in our lives than we had imagined and far more dependent on their gifts than we had thought. Additionally, as the guys explore their strengths in service, our community becomes more three dimensional as it breaks from the restraining mold that I impose upon it. We have a long way to go, but acknowleding that doesn't depress me. I look at examples like L'Arche (which I would encourage you to explore as an example of community) and am hopeful of what lies before us. It's time to plug in the controllers.  

Elements of Community - Sense of Sharing

This post attempts to take one step beyond the former post, moving from an emphasis on Us to Our. In community, we ought to feel like there are elements of life that are not merely mine but ours. As a former mathlete, the Venn Diagram comes to mind (see above). The Venn Diagram captures this element of community in which we don't merely come side by side, but we actually overlap. The circles do not bleed into each other and lose their circularity. Instead, they bond over a common space. The common space in communities should be the following: obedience and interaction with God, future hopes, responsibility for others, pains, victories, space and possessions. These shared experiences will be the byproducts of our shared mission and will bear witness to the legitimacy of our ties to one another. To the degree that we attempt to partition these areas off from those to whom we are committed, we will experience a death of sorts. (See II Cor 9:1-15, Acts 4:32)

I feel like I learn a lot from Brazilians about sharing possessions, responsibility and space. When I drove the VW Van into the sewer drainage ditch, all the locals adopted the task of getting the van out as if it were their problem. If a guy in the house buys a package of cookies, these cookies inevitably make their way around the table. During our prayer group in the morro this morning, three chairs were placed side by side to make a bench for five kids to sit on. Recently, Claudinho complained to Carol and I about not giving him a heads up before visitors arrive. According to him, any visitor to the house becomes our visitor. I liked the way he expressed this. Carol and the guys in our house are great examples for me in these arenas.

However, I am always humbled when I read about the church in Acts. Those guys sold stuff so that others could live. They shared joys when experiencing growth and hope when being persecuted. I think they shared their brokenness and humanity far more than we do here. We in the house still buy into the lie that we can only share what's working; the broken stuff gets stuffed or fenced off. While we have made some strides over this last year, we still need to learn how to share more of who we are rather than merely what we have. The cliche alarm is sounding, but I'm have going to have to conclude with that statement.

Elements of Community - Sense of Belonging

Belonging speaks to our sense of identity. Defining self in relation to the people with whom we are connected seems somewhat off by contemporary standards. Instead, personal identity is perceived as a rather individual and autonomous pursuit, something you discover alone on some remote mountain in Southern Asia. However, do any of us truly arrive at an accurate assessment of self without the context of Jesus and His body? I believe that I demands the context of a He and an Us. Consider this. All the ways I define myself depend on others in some way. My gifts are only gifts because they serve someone else - not my ego. My weaknesses and limitations surface because of my interaction with those around me. My love needs a Source and an object. Any attempt to articulate who I am will result in dragging you and God into the conversation. This sounds suffocating. However, the fact that my identity is inextricably tied to God and His people does not mute my individuality. Instead, it accentuates it, creating an opportunity for its expression. Healthy communities seem to transmit this sense of Us while acknowledging we are His. I resonates with this vertical and horizontal sense of belonging. In this way, we depart from Cain's path. Where he stepped back from God and balked at being his brother’s keeper, we must embrace such. (Hosea 2:2, Neh 2:1-4; Ruth 1:15-18).

As for the Sombra Road house, I see this sense of Us in the way we define victories and defeats. Paulo gets a job, and Claudinho celebrates with the same enthusiasm as Paulo. Claudinho breaks up with his girlfriend, and Adilio feels it. It goes beyond just win-win. I also detect a sense of belonging in the way we deal with each other's junk. Each guy is called to pull their own weight, while overwhelming burdens are intended to be carried by all. These are not confused boundaries; the lines have merely been recast in light of the gospel.

I conclude with one final footnote on the sense of belonging essential to community, as this element of my past is etched on my memory as the essence of this concept of Us. When we were kids, my two younger brothers and I would make up all types of random games. My brother Brian was the chief architect, and his games all shared one common trait - all three of us were on the same team. He would set up the game in such a way so that the three of us were competing against an imaginary opponent - typically called the Yankees or some other team we generally disliked. Then, we'd play it out. Interestingly enough, we would not rig the game so that we would necessarily win. Sometimes we did lose, but we lost together. It's now a joke between us when we play a game as to whether we are going to play it straight up or Brian style. Still, I wish there were more room for Brian games in the way we live.

Elements of Community - Mission

Community is not just a static group of navel gazers that enjoy each other’s company. Community has an outward vector, a direction. This means that people live in community with an end in mind. It is this end that helps solidify the bond between the individual members. As my friend David says, most examples of healthy communities follow the Lego Principle. People, like legos, do not join side by side. In order to connect and enduringly remain together, they demand a common link above and below. The link above is our common connection to the Father, while the link below is this fundamental commitment to mission. In a broad sense, our mission is to serve as a witness to all that Jesus is accomplishing in the space between us, while inviting outsiders in to experience the same. In this way, mission is just as much about loving inward as looking outward. Vanier clarifies this in his book Community and Growth when he asserts, “I am convinced that a community can flourish only if its aim is outside of itself.” (See John 10:10, Matthew 10:5, Matthew 28:16-20, Romans 15:20)

Before this house, my view of mission was far too limited in its scope. While true mission entails saying no to certain things in order to say yes to others, I was far too satisfied at times with just the no's. Let me explain. The ascetic lifestyle always maintained a certain allure to me. Something about a streamlined life of measured simplicity stripped of creature comforts in the name of a greater good seemed sexy in a way. So, when I moved into the orphanage, I bought a mattress and slept on the floor. Paint on the walls was deemed a luxury, food was relegated to tasteless fuel and my wardrobe was trimmed to blue, black and gray t-shirts. It was during this time that my friend Will confessed that video skyping with me made him feel depressed. The drab, empty backdrop of my room made him feel as if he were talking with someone holed up in a bomb shelter. But, it answered something in me. I felt free and deliberate. I felt as if I were living with a mission. I had defined my life through my sacrifices. I was deluded. But, here's the scary reality. I think most of us are. If we're honest, it is easier to define our faith through the sacrifices we make than through manifestations of love. We are not loving others; we're looking for a better version of us. I had not yet learned that all sacrifices are embraced with someone else's best in mind, banking on the hope that God will ressurect life in both me and others where there is only death.

Mission looks different to me now. It's more about what He's doing for us than what I'm doing for Him. I just have to keep up with Him and be accessible to others. In this way, mission surges in almost everything because no activity is too small for Him to inhabit. Playing poker, entertaining guests, preparing a Sunday meal or buying groceries - nothing is off limits. For our part, this demands a vigilance and an active looking outward. It is not enough that we're cool with each other. As long as there are strangers, our mission continues. There is the image of two young Moravian men who sold themselves into a lifetime of slavery, waving goodbye to their families for the last time, one shouting from the boat, "May the Lamb receive the reward of His suffering." And I thought mission was eating ramen noodles out of the only bowl you own.

Elements of Community - Mystery

Let me begin with a confession. I have a tough time saying "I don't know." When posed with a Why?, I feel as if it is my moral obligation to respond to it. I've even been know to throw in a "They say..." to justify my point, simply because it seems to lend credibility to my argument. I am enfatuated with reasons, motives and consistency therein. Give me cogent explanations of life that dovetail into a practical, if not empirical, worldview, and I'll feel a certain buzz.

Now, the problem with people like me is our quiet aversion to the concept of mystery. Our tendency is to try to mitigate or minimize it through our explanations. If we're honest, we villify mystery as something akin to ambiguity. Yet for all my attempts to explain mystery away, life in community beckons me to embrace it. The degree to which we have been united with God and each other and the manner through which this unity was achieved are nothing less than surreal. Words about such truths are not intended to fence in these realities but to give way to wonder. Mystery allows the more subtle, yet most significant, truths to come to life. It also protects us from trivializing the idea of just being together. We escape the wrong-headed mentality that we are what we do and begin to find wonder in that which we are accustomed to overlook. (See Job 26:14, Eph 5:32)


I see mystery in the way God brought the five of us together. People constantly ask how a pasty, white American, a seminarian from the Northeast, two orphans from Sao Goncalo and a girl from Ipanema (or Rio at the very least) ended up under the same roof. We fumble for answers, but there is something inexplicably divine to our bond. There is also this pervasive sense of mystery in discussing the future of the guys. They, just like us, sense they are a part of something special and are being prepared for the same. Then, there are the nights we worship together. Since none of us play an instrument, we'll find songs on YouTube and sing along. But, those nights are much bigger than five people (at least one of which being tone deaf) huddled around a computer screen. Finally, I am reminded of all the moments of silence where we are just with each other. There is no compulsion to fill the space with nervous conversation. The silence is not perceived as a threat or a void. There is just us, and that doesn't demand an excuse or a reason.    

Elements of Community - Expressed Dependence upon God (Jeremy and David)

A healthy community expresses its dependence upon God both repeatedly and overtly. This reliance is not a mere formality, something assumed just because we are a Christian community. Instead, it is a discipline that is celebrated and pursued as the only way that we will see tomorrow together. We tend to romanticize community, thinking it's the natural product of assembling a group of well-intentioned individuals. But, that's not how it plays out in my life. If I get really close to Paulo, I start to get frustrated with his carelessness - more specifically, how many glasses he breaks when he washes dishes. So, I begin to think Paulo is the problem. But, if I'm honest, is my caustic response to him any less subversive to our pursuit of being one than his carelessness? He's tanking our community, but I'm no less the saboteur. The enemy is in the camp. When everyone in the camp is compromised to some degree, you have to look outward for a Savior. And this Savior doesn't save you from community; He saves you through it. In this way, we become dependent upon each other, since ‘each other’ is most often the means by which God does his works of transformation in us.  We must come to understand that the core callings of life - the Great Commission, our sanctification, and the glorifying of God - are all team sports.  (1 Cor. 12:21; Eph 4:16; John 17:21-23; Mat. 18:20)

The most consistent example of how the Sombra Road House expresses our dependence upon God is our times of communal prayer. Carol, Adilio and Paulo ride to work together, praying in the car as they go. Claudinho and I pray at the kitchen table. Our prayers are pleas for God to help us understand and live Jesus' prayer in John 17. Then, there are the moments of frustration with each other when dependence upon God looks like petitions for patience, humility and the courage to confront. Claudinho confronts me for my impatience in driving. He prays that I may hear, and I'm asking God to silence my ego which so wants rationalize some defense. Sometimes, guys like Anderson choose to leave the house. In these moments, dependence upon God manifests itself in our continued prayers that Anderson would be led back into community with us. When we are driving to the morro for soccer class, we are asking God to give us words and love that speak into these kids' lives.

Still, we have much to learn in the area of dependence upon God. I see how revisiting the way we buy groceries, pay bills, receive visitors and observe the Sabbath could all lead us to greater understanding of our true need for Him. But, this is nothing in comparison to how we in the house have to learn to depend upon God by becoming dependent upon one another. We are all a bit too contaminated with the notion that our spiritual walk is merely a vertical issue - God and I. I am hopeful that we will grow to embrace our need for one another as another expression of our greater need for God.   

Community

"...that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me."   John 17:21

This isn't a inspirational wall calendar verse. For me, it's more like slipping on wet tile and falling so hard on my back that I get the wind knocked out of me. Why? Because it takes a truth that is so foundational to my existence - the unity of Jesus and the Father - and ties it invariably to another truth that couldn't seem more foreign to my experience - that being the unity between believers. Most of us from the West do not have trouble understanding our relationship with God as something personal or individual. Spiritual disciplines and personal behaviors lend themselves quite adequately to articulating this relationship between God and self. But, where God and I is a manageable concept for us, God and we is extremely elusive. Simply put, I cannot seem to trace the dots between you and me and Him. Lamentably, this exaggerated emphasis upon personal experiences with God at the expense of a communal relationship with Him ultimately diverts our eyes from seeing Jesus. The collective we that Jesus introduces in His prayer takes a sword to the inflated individualism that lies at the root of this blindness. I see the Sombra Road Home as a gift, but also as a blade of this sword that is intended to challenge our individualistic inclinations.

This past weekend, Carol, the guys and I travelled about two hours outside of Rio for our first spiritual retreat. We called it Retreat 2011 because that is about the extent of our creativity when it comes to naming things. The purpose of the retreat was to ask God to grow within us a greater understanding and practice of community in order that "the world may believe that He sent Jesus." We carried into the weekend a list of 13 elements that tend to surface in a healthy community of believers. This list was compliled from our experiences, those of friends and those of authors of books dealing with this concept. I thought it may give you a better understanding of what God is doing here by sharing one of these elements each week and the way it plays out in our community. The intention in talking about these elements is not to fence in this reality so that it becomes a manageable concept or a strategy that we can implement. The goal is to find a handle to grab onto, so that we can begin to live community and submit to God’s plans for us in it. My prayer is that God would grow our identification with one another and with Him. 


   

Sight (Jeremy)

On Monday afternoon, after a morning of random errands, I'm in a neighboring bairro (think burrough) trying to catch a bus home. The sidewalk on which I'm standing, not measuring more than 4 feet in width, is situated between a 8 foot high railway wall and a busy, three-laned road where buses and cars barrel past at speeds exceeding 60 mph. Hailing a bus in such a location demands both visual acuity and spastic arm motions. While I'm waiting, another bus pulls up to the stop and three passengers get off. There is a young man with a guitar, his girlfriend and another gentleman in gray engaging the two in conversation. The three of them cross at the intersection, and then they part company - the young couple to the right and the other man to the left. At this point, the man in gray pulls out a walking stick and begins to tap it in front of him. I observe for a few moments as he ambles down the sidewalk. When he makes it to a section that is particularly narrow, he begins to lean against the wall and feel his way down the road. At that point, I approach him and ask if I can walk besides him to wherever he's going. He graciously accepts.

"Where are you heading?" I ask, hoping he knows the way because I don't know the area that well.

"To the Association for the Blind - just up the road to the right." he responds.

"My name is Jeremy. I'm not from around here."

"I could tell. I'm Wesley. I'm not from around here either."

He then goes on to share with me how he's originally from the northeastern part of Brazil. He came to Rio because he met a girl on-line. I'm quite amused by this, and we talk for a while. He tells me a little about his life here - how he works making brooms at the Association and hangs out with this girl on the weekends. We make it to the door of the Association and exchange cell phone numbers. Then, I ask him if he would like for me to help him inside.

"No," he replies, "I can get around here with my eyes closed."

As I'm walking back to the bus stop, I am genuinely humbled. As much as I would like to be free from such, I am not above preening myself for random acts of service. But, in this case, at this particular moment, I am not tempted with such vanity. Instead, I genuinely recognize that I am much more blessed to have met him than he me. His humor, his refusal to complain (even though the bus driver had missed his stop by a long shot), his humble strength and transparency - it was like a deep breath. I thought about Jesus' perspective on such people, specifically that the broken are a gift and not a burden. In most situations, that truth is not as tangible as it is with Wesley, but I think we find its subtle veracity in our own lives if we give ourselves time to reflect. And I am left wondering how many God-oriented lessons in Wesley-shaped frames I've missed just because I'm in a hurry to make the next bus.

Dads

On my way to Morro dos Macacos two weeks ago, I spotted a little girl walking with her dad on my street about 20 meters in front of me. She couldn't have been more than six years old. I probably wouldn't have noticed her had it not been for the bundled figure that she carried tenderly against her shoulder. 
"That little girl is carrying a baby?!?" I thought, blinking in disbelief. My critical nature sized up her father and lined him up in my sights. "What brand of laziness is this? Maybe with her free arm you can make her tote a couple bags of groceries."

However, as she passed by, I turned around to get a better look, only to realize that what I thought was a baby was merely a doll. Cynicism gave way to guilt, then repentance. In my mind, I came to grips with the weight of this scene. This little girl carried a piece of plastic with more caution and concern than most carry their own flesh and blood, and the reason that she held it in such a manner was exactly because of the man at her side that I had so grossly misjudged ten seconds prior.

Fathers. Loving, present fathers. So much of our work here in Brasil is the fallout of the scarcity of such.

I'm very thankful for my own dad. Beyond that, I learn a lot from my friends who fit this profile. The other night I was talking to one such friend via Skype. I asked him about his kids, and he shared with me an image that has reshaped my ideal of fatherhood. Let me set the context for this image first. This guy has four kids - two young twin girls, a toddler and an infant. Nothing about his situation lends itself towards relaxing Saturday afternoons. However, when he has to go to Home Depot, he doesn't just ditch the kids with his wife in the name of efficiency. He loads all four of them into the car with him and leads his merry little band through the store.

Now, the image that stuck in my mind was his description of cutting the grass. If I have a task like that before me, I'll step back from people in order to get the job done. Not so with this guy. He bought a harness system where he can carry the kids on his back as he cuts. He also bought protective earmuffs for each one of the kids (save the newborn). They all take turns riding on his back while he circles around his lawn. His reason is simple. He decided long ago that he didn't want to live his life in spite of his kids or in function of his kids. Instead, he was determined to share life with his kids. In his case, that meant opting out of the riding lawn mower and giving his kids a ride instead. I'm endebted to my friend for this picture - not only because it shapes my own parenting methods but because it gives me a new understanding of our true Father as well.

  

A Woman's Touch (Jeremy)

Winter is officially upon us, beginning tomorrow June 21st. With it comes temperatures that drop into the frigid lower 60's. If you take into account the windchill factor, we're facing bundled-up nights in the upper 50's for the next three months. You may think I say this tongue in cheek, but I'm quite serious. The furious heat of summer has drastically altered my concept of cold, and I get out of bed with teeth chattering these days. The most observable impact that this drop in temperature has upon my existence is in the duration of my showers. I would say that on a typical winter morning I shave two minutes off a shower that four months prior lasted five. The reason is simple - electric shower heads. Water for bathing is not heated in a separate tank and then piped into the shower. Instead, water is warmed as it passes through the heating element of the shower head. This set-up establishes an inverse relationship between the flow of water and its temperature - or, more simply, more water equals colder water. Since my approach is basically to maintain the same water pressure, I adjust to the cold by diminishing the length of my showers. My objective is to get in and out as fast as possible.

Now, my wife is of an entirely different school of thought. Unlike me, she will sacrifice water pressure in order to achieve the maximum amount of heat that she can coax out of the heating element. From outside the bathroom, I can hear the heating element arming and disarming as she meticulously works at adjusting the flow to what I would consider little more than a light mist. Once she has discovered the threshold for the least amount of water necessary to engage the heating element, she will huddle under that tiny hot stream until the steam clouds our bathroom mirrors. She delights in the challenge.

I tell this story to highlight the differences between my wife and I. This week I had the benefit of witnessing how valuable her differences are. As I mentioned in the last post, we've been walking through a more intense stage with the guys, working with some more painful issues from the past. Long story short, my attempt at correcting one of the guys escalated into him packing his stuff to leave. Conflict has always scared this guy, as he prefers flight to fight. I was heated but was also aware of the dangerous ground on which we were treading. I tried to help him see that he was reverting to a dangerous pattern, but he couldn't hear me. At that moment, Carol, with the same measured calmness with which she adjusts the water faucet, began to talk to the guy. I stepped away, and, a few minutes later, he was ready to engage once again. I was both humbled by her and thankful for her. From there, we were able to move into a conversation/prayer that really moved this guy's story forward. I don't tell this story to make much of Carol, as she doesn't read my posts anyways. I write this more to highlight the wisdom of God in creating personalities of such stark contrasts - personalities that ebb and flow with the current of redemption. Surely, He blesses, shapes and confronts us with the people that He gives us. With that, I'm not above flushing the toilet when she is in the shower just to disarm the heating element.

      

Repairs (Jeremy)

Our deepest problem is that we seek to find our identity outside the story of redemption.
                                                                                                        - Paul David Tripp

People that know me would never ask my opinion about home repair. I once attempted to patch a rather large hole in a wall with caulk. Cars are not my thing either. My wife still mocks me for the incredibly expensive "magic water" that a gas station attendant convinced me to buy when I had my radiator fluid changed. When it comes to problems, I prefer to deal with the arena of interpersonal relationships. But, I find two glaring issues in making a claim like this. First, no one wants to be fixed. Second, who am I to say that I can help?

These issues have surfaced in my mind following some remarkably painful stories that the guys have shared over the last few weeks regarding their pasts. From my experience, we are tempted to fill the wake of silence created by such confessions with one of two alternatives. The first is the quick fix. This is where I shrink another's problem to a manageable symptom of a treatable behavior. Then, I can give them some clear steps to eradicate this behavior from their lives. The second option is passing the buck. I may feel as if I don't have anything to offer so I refer this individual to someone who is more qualified to work with this type of person, thereby reinforcing the distance that this person already feels from those around him. In my mind, neither approach is a valid one. Instead, I think I'm learning that our approach must flow from a right understanding of the Tripp quote at the beginning of this post. Our responsibility is to help people find their story within the context of the redemptive work of a glorious God. While our role will look different in each person's story, the themes of dependence upon the Spirit, an awareness of your own brokenness, a turning towards God, a shared sense of pain and the commitment to walk beside should each be present in some form.

I ask that you please pray alongside us that God would redeem painful experiences, transforming them into a life-giving bridge that reaches into the struggles of others.

Exits (Jeremy)

The Riddles arrived here in Brasil in February 2006. Five years, four homes, three churches, two children and a red, VW grocery-getter later, they returned to the States. On May 1st, home for them became a place quite distant from us. The night they left was quite somber. There was that unswallowable pain in the back of your throat that invariably gives way to tears, then, hugs. There was the awkward silence that accompanied us to the baggage check. There was the altogether underwhelming goodbye that seemed quite unfit for the occasion and the final left turn around the translucent glass wall of the security check. Then, there was just the space that they had disoccupied. Gone.

But, exits are not all sadness. Walking up Morro dos Macacos last week, two little kids that I've never met but that have seen us around the morro stopped me to ask, "Jason, where's the other one?" Now, what I've discovered from my time in the morro is that most of the kids that are not close to us seem to think of Jason and I as an extension of one identity. To them, our names really don't mean anything. We are Jason and the other one. Jason is the name assigned to the person that they are addressing. The other one is the title given to the one that is not present. Since I was there that day, I was Jason. I didn't correct the kids. I simply replied, "He's returned to the States." But as I continued walking, I reflected on how much both Jason and Kristin are a part of what we do here. I considered the indellible mark they left on me, the guys and a number of kids from the morro. And, in that moment, sadness gave way to gratitude. Suddenly, 4742 miles didn't seem like such a distance.

I ask that you pray for the Riddles. First, Jason needs a job. Second, pray for this period of adjustment for them. While there is the joy of being home with friends and family, there is also the sense of loss for the stories in which they invested five years of their lives that continue on without them. All of us here are genuinely thankful for the time we had with the Riddles and trust that God has greater plans for them still in bringing them home.

Sprouts (Jason)

Jacob has a book about a boy that wants to grow sunflowers in his father’s garden.  The boy chooses the seeds, prepares the dirt, plants the seeds, and cheers on the rain.  His part is done.  All he can do is wait.  At this point in the book the reader can only guess what the outcome will be.  It may be a happy ending where the boy’s efforts yield many, enormous plants.  Or, the book might be a tragedy where nothing comes out of the ground.  God only knows.  The boy did his part and he did it well.  The outcome is out of his hands. 

Cezario is a 14-year-old boy who lives in Morro dos Macacos.  He has been with us since we began there in 2007 in our English and soccer classes and in our Bible studies.  He has always been a marginal character.  Generally I would describe his behavior as poor… that is up until two months ago. 

In 2007, Jeremy and I quickly noticed that the kids at Morro dos Macacos show little to no gratitude.  Ultimately we believe that their lack of gratitude for what they have here on this earth limits their ability to appreciate God.  He is, after all, the giver of all good things.  So, we set out to help them appreciate others by creating a few simple rules.  The first two of our three rules are: “If you want something ask, ‘please’.  If you receive something say, ‘thank you.’”  We have been insisting on those couple of rules for almost 4 years.  Last year we upped the bar.  We began talking about Christian leadership and challenged the kids that participate in our Wednesday soccer ministry to practice habits common to Christianity and leaders.  Specifically, we challenged them to encourage one another, not to complain and to serve.  At the end of every game Jeremy and I awarded the best player, the best goalie and the best attitude (defined as encourager, positive and servant) with public recognition and sometimes a piece of candy.  Cezerio has won best attitude by us countless times and was elected by his peers to win best attitude at last Wednesday’s game.  His behavior is phenomenal.  I have never seen such a drastic change in behavior in any other kid I have worked with in the past 11 years of ministry. 

Jeremy and I are like the little boy in Jacob's book (we are like little boys in more ways than one).  We planted seeds by making a plan to change behavior.  We prepared the soil by sticking to our plan through difficult times for 4 years now.  We have cheered on the rain by praying weekly for these boys.  All we can do is wait.  What will the outcome be?  God only knows.  Cezario does not profess to be a Christian, but we receive his change of behavior as a sign that God is at work in his life and of greater things to come.

Thank you all for your prayers and support of this work here. 

Sombra Road Staff

In-Laws (Jeremy)

Paulo and Malu have been dating for a little over a year. In the next few weeks, Carol and I will most likely meet her parents, as they, along with Malu, will be flying in from the southern part of Brazil to spend the weekend in our home. The visit is her dad's idea - a chance for the families to meet. I like the idea. However, I cannot help but feel that we are about to live out a scene from a Wes Anderson film. Consider the following variables:

1) Carol and I (representing Paulo's parents) are just a little older than Senior Carlos and Dona Maria's (Malu's father) oldest son
2) Her parents seem to be quiet talkers, and I'm a foreigner
3) Paulo has never met them, only talking with them over the phone
4) Paulo is finishing high school and Malu has her PhD, currently working with a research team in Sao Paulo
5) This will be the first time that Paulo and Malu actually meet, as their relationship has consisted solely of Skype and phone calls

It is the perfect storm of awkwardness, as all types of social inconveniences have seemingly aligned for one fateful encounter.

The fun side of all of this has been our preparation for the weekend, particularly Paulo's grooming. Carol is handling his table etiquette - posture, arm placement, proper usage of utensils, excusing oneself from the table. I have directed my efforts towards his treatment of her parents - use of titles, conversation starters and eye contact. This crash course in breeding has heightened Paulo's anxiety in meeting her family, which is a good sign in my opinion. First, it shows that he cares about Malu and is willing to undergo this reconditioning to value the people she values. Second, it demonstrates that Paulo maintains a healthy fear for her father - a trait that seems quite effective in keeping couples in bounds relationally. In all of this, it's been quite encouraging to see God take a timid, acceptance-driven teenager from a few years back and transform him into someone capable of caring for/committing to another. But, the real highlight for me is the careful deliberation with which Paulo arranges the silverware on his plate following a meal, invariably followed by an uncertain glance to Carol for approval. Here's to non-conventional weekends.    

Transitions (Jason)

As many of you know from the letter that we sent in February, Kristin and I will be transitioning back to the States by midyear 2011  (see our letter here).  We look forward to seeing many of you again and will be in touch once we get settled.  In the letter we highlighted some of the ways that God has worked during our time here in Brazil.  As I believe it is fitting, I would like to give greater attention to some of those works here in this blog update.  

First, I would like to start with REAME, the orphanage.  For 10 years now Sombra Road has supported the work of REAME with financial assistance.  Tom Carson, a shrewd judge of character, made a wise choice when he decided to invest in Gislaine, REAME's founder and director.  Gislaine has administered Sombra Road's investments wisely as she has sheltered hundreds of abandoned children in REAME's 17 years.

Next, we thank God for the opportunity that Sombra Road has had to reach out to many while focusing on a few.  We have had the opportunity to conduct weekly Bible studies, English and soccer classes, and prayer meetings with hundreds of disadvantaged youth in our time here in Brazil.  Within the past year we have had the benefit of seeing some longstanding relationships pay off with the development of a soccer ministry.   Among this group we have been able to have many spiritual conversations and have seen much fruit.  However, we are even more thankful for the lives of Claudinho, Paulo Sergio, Paulo Ricardo, Adilio, and Anderson.  We thank God that we have been able to share our lives with these young men whom we consider to be close friends.  We believe that God has entrusted them to us, that he is doing and will do great things in their lives.

Please pray for us as we make our transition back to the States, for employment and that we would trust in God's guidance and care.  Also, pray for Jeremy as he continues Sombra Road's work here in Brazil.  Finally, pray for the boys in the Sombra Road Program as they continue to mature and grow in their love for God.

Flooding in Friburgo (Jeremy)

As many of you may have heard, the towns of Friburgo and Teresopolis (a mountainous region about 2 hours from the Rio’s city limits) were ravaged by flooding this week. The official death toll is at 534, but rescue workers cannot even speculate how many are actually missing. Everyone here follows the news reports quite closely, as most have relatives or friends that live in that area. The stories that have surfaced are horrific, like one father who found the body of one son buried in the mud in search of the other three that are missing. The press has labeled it the most devastating natural disaster in the history of Brazil.

The somewhat chilling part for us in all of this is that Jason, Kristin, Carol and I spent last weekend there. We had purchased one of those Groupon packages for a discount on a bed and breakfast in the area. We used the time to step away from the fast pace of life in Rio. Everything about the place was conducive to rest, as I would describe the area as green and slow. It’s eerie to think how rain can change that in a night. I don’t want to be melodramatic, nor am I trying to revisit the Left Behind series. I just cannot seem to shake how much this speaks of our need for preparedness and unity among believers. I don’t believe that the Western church will continue to be successful in insulating itself from tragedies and suffering. In such, I believe we will also stumble upon our true and real Hope.