Saturday, August 29, 2009

Come As You Are

(Me & Jim/Big Sexy)


"Come as you are, Ryan. You will be fine here."

These were the tender words offered by Sister Pat. She is one of the founders of L'Arche Irenicon more than 25 years ago. I cannot say enough about my first impression of her as she seems to embody an effortless rhythm of love that one could only develop with years upon years of faithful prayer, service, and sacrifice.

Arriving to one of L'Arche Irenicon's four community homes called 'Gandhi' was difficult. Calling a place home is not the same as feeling home and when you factor in the fact that there are four people with developmental disabilities and multiple other assistants to develop relationship with it can increase the difficulty of settling in. Entering into community life is truly a desired, but frightful experience for me. I felt comfortable going into L'Arche rather than entering into any student-lead community because I felt that many were either elitist or idealistic. A lot of people want to be IN community- they share a desire to experience belonging, acceptance, security, and encouragement that can seldom be reflected on a smaller scale. But it is very important for these communities to have a specific and verbalized mission that brings the people together in a like cause. A friend was discussing how that is in large part the reason as to why L'Arche has achieved the worldwide success that it has compared to many other communities trying to establish themselves on either an organizational or even 'house' level.

Nonetheless, words like Sister Pat's have not proven themselves to me. How does one embrace the challenge of "coming as you are" with both the fears of rejection and the pains of previous wounds? The most basic belonging to community we all share came via the nuclear family and when this key experience has lead us to deep-seeded messages of rejection we become newborn products of brokenness; aside from the infliction done by the nature of the beast (because we all share an inherent desire to alienate ourselves from our Savior). This brokenness passes on a verdict that "I am unloveable and unbeloved". As children we internalize this verdict and develop new walls that teach us that the ones in which we love and have loved us most are not worthy of our trust for unspeakable pain is bound to repeat itself. And so our hearts get walled up and locked away; for some these walls are thicker than others. Do not be fooled into thinking that the failure of the nuclear family is the only 'builder of walls' amongst us- not only can the extent of failure be measured in different degrees and contexts, but the heart of humankind is polluted right down to our spouses, best friends, heroes, and role models.

Living off of an enclosed heart we lose touch with who we are and become so selfish (because we are the only ones we know we can trust) that we die in our lostness. We choose to die alone then to live in relationship. Living in relationship, in community, is not something that we have complete control over though. We often make the mistake that we choose community, but Jean Vanier (founder of L'Arche) is quick to point out that God has already chosen community for US. At Gandhi home I live primarily with Dan, Devan, Tom, and Jimmy- all of whom have not been chosen, but given. God has emplaced me into their hands and them in mine. We are both inadequate to care for one another unfailingly, but there is a common thread that we need each other to live and to experience redemption in our own little ways. For me, to "come as I am" will be an ongoing journey- one small victory at a time.

Yes, Jimmy might hit me because he feared he was being teased, Tom might scream because I didn't give him coffee or money when he so desired, Dan might give me attitude when I help him watch his weight, Devan might act out because I brought him into an environment that is hectic and stressful, and I might digress out of frustration, failure, or resurfacing fears in my interaction with people in the community. These are all part of the growing pains necessary for our relationships to grow and achieve new heights of love. This can entail a mixture of interaction- ones with gentle hugs and ones with harsh behaviors. My woundedness tells me not to risk it, not to take such an imbalance where pain is an expected result, but Vanier says "hope is reborn from the wound" (120). I can only begin to tear down these walls by the beckoning of others. I need them, I need relationship, I need community to experience things that heal. This is one way in which L'Arche has been pestering me forth to mature in my imitation of Christ, embrace His love for me, and show others the love I speak of. It can only be done with the brokenness and goodness of my new found friends and family.

"The spirituality of L'Arche is manifested in the way we live with people who have handicaps and see Jesus in them" (Vanier). I came to L'Arche with the best of intentions... I was going to be a heroic "doer", but we can all rough it out for at least a short time. "Doing" can interrupt the ability for others to "be". Vanier writes, "True community implies a way of life, a way of living and seeing reality; it implies above all fidelity in the daily round. And this is made up of simple things - preparing meals, using and washing the dishes and using them again, going to meetings- as well as gift, joy, and celebration; and it is made up of forgiving seventy times seventy-seven" (playing off of Matthew 18:22).

Changing my way of life from 'doing for' to 'being with' is an entirely different course of action. The doing-for philosophy continues to divide the abilities and inabilities between two people; creating two different distinctions- two different classes of efficiency and worth. Being-with proclaims mutuality in friendship- one that experiences the blessings of each others giftedness, but also shoulders the pain of each others burdens. Being-with acknowledges the distinct poverty of every member in the community and intimately reminds one another of their desire to unite.

Recently I attended a party in which we celebrate every birthday in the given month as a whole community. The celebration was quite fulfilling to experience for the first time. We sat in one large circle and one-by-one chose the name of a birthday individual. After this person was specified we would have them light a candle to represent the everlasting flame in which their beauty burns, then we would sing a song they liked, and enter into a time of affirmation. People were encouraged to speak kind words, to find the good things to say about that particular person, and then we would close with another song. The night went on to be full of good dessert and laughs and eventually we scattered and mingled, but this one event completely embodied the way we want each person of our community to feel: loved. Loved in all their strengths and weaknesses and celebrated for being exactly who that person has been.

We each bring to community our own woundedness and giftedness. The point is not to tip the scale more so in one direction than the other. It isn't about presenting ourselves a certain way or being anything more or less than who we truly are. We have to be grounded in the reality of what we bring, where we can grow, what we are desiring. I'm carrying a broken-heartedness with my arrival here, but I have to remain vulnerable or else the pain I brought from one relationship will handicap my ability to build others unintentionally.

"Come as you are"

At the end of the day I think God is asking us to trust these words and to not look at it like, "okay, I'll give these people a chance, but if in some way they fail to meet my needs or expectations I will give up." He wants more from us because He gave us everything- we wrote Him off, but He continued to lay down His life. We will all undoubtedly miss the mark at times, but community is our gift from God. It is our opportunity to hear a different message- one full of divine Truth and Love- and to rewrite the story. It is what transforms our world into the Kingdom of God.


[Quotations from Jean Vanier's "Community & Growth"]