Community is... a choice

I've been asked quite a lot lately about what living ‘as a community’ actually means. My father thinks I live in a commune – I’m not that much of a hippy just yet (but I have started wearing more tye-dye clothes whenever I go home, just to freak him out a bit you know).

Each week living as a community means something different.

Last week was definitely about choices & being intentional.

Sometimes it’s just carrying out decisions that you’ve already made as a group:

• Choosing to share incomes and contribute to living expenses on the basis of what you earn and can afford
• Choosing to buy food as a household and cook together (one simple rule avoids confusion and the crushing disappointment of opening the fridge to discover the food you were dreaming about all day has gone - if you wan’ it then you gotta put ya name on it)

Or decisions that you need to make together:

• Choosing to spend time together (you know your lives have gotten too busy when you have to schedule 8am breakfast meetings with your flatmates so that you can all get your diaries out and book in time to spend together over the next two months)
• Choosing to pray with each other
• Choosing to pray for each other
• Choosing whether or nor to invest in a tumble drier ( with four girls a tumble drier is definitely for the win!)

And then there are the daily decisions:

• Choosing to not throw a book/table/chair at you roommate when she sings that one line from that really annoying song for the millionth time that day
• Choosing not to throw your roommate out the window when she tries to have a conversation with you before you've had breakfast, even though she knows you can’t deal with it (for those of you wondering - I had breakfast half an hour before our breakfast meeting)
• Choosing to forgive your flatmates when they don’t even realise you feel wronged
• Choosing to say sorry when you don’t understand what you did wrong/knowingly did something wrong
• Choosing to invite people into your home when you really need a night off to watch Gypsy Weddings
• Choosing to clean more often than you think necessary because you know that in the same way you can't deal with mornings, your flatmate can't deal with mess
• Choosing to share your burdens with others and help others carry theirs'
• Choosing to sing along to Bryan Adams at the top of your voice while you cook dinner with your flatmate (Bryan Adams – For shame! Minus 5 points to Rachel)

But then there are the days when the sun is shining, life is perfect (enough) and the harder choices, that require more courage and greater love, are o so easy to make. 

And then community is less about making choices and more about just living your life, with maybe a bit more grace and depth and love then you might otherwise have done. 

Decisions Decisions

So I’m standing in my most favourite stationary store of them all (Paperchase of course), a notebook in each hand trying to decide between the two products.

In my right hand I have the Hippy Central notebook – made from recycled paper and using vegetable based inks only (although maybe a real hippy would make one out of dead leaves they found in the street instead of buying one).

In my left hand I have the notebook version of a banker – straight lines, white paper and the ink is probably made out of baby panda spleen. Not a hint of anything recycled or environmentally friendly in sight.

The hippy notebook has 100 less pages than the banker notebook. The hippy notebook has yellower (is that even a word?) pages than then banker notebook. The hippy notebook doesn’t have a spiral spine or perforated pages. But the hippy notebook costs £2.50 more than the banker notebook.

Decisions decisions.

Do I stick to my principles of trying to be environmentally friendly but pay more for a slightly lesser product? Or do I sell out and get the product that is more functional and cheaper but more damaging to the environment?

Am I willing to act on what I claim to believe even when there is a cost?

This is a question I face more than I would like.

Last week I was walking through H&M in the Eastfield Temple (the Westfield in East London – get to know!) acutely aware that most of their clothes sport labels proclaiming ‘Made in Bangladesh’ or ‘Made in Vietnam.’

Now I don’t know for sure that the workers who had to sew these labels in were being exploited but my guess is that it’s more likely than not. So what do I do? Do I buy the cheaper clothes that make a profit from someone else’s misery? Or do I save up and only get fair-trade stuff from somewhere like People Tree?

Am I willing to act on what I claim to believe even when there is a cost?

Are you willing to act on what you believe even when there is a cost?

I am pleased to say that I put the banker notebook back on the shelf and proudly took my Little Hippy Notebook to the till.

But I did get the clothes from H&M (birthday present for my brother. He will almost certainly take them back though. It’s the thought that counts right?).

Questions Questions Questions

So where I live (the Shoreditch end of Bethnal Green. Or the Bethnal Green end of Shoreditch, depending on which direction you’re coming from) there are heaps of homeless people. Any main road seems to have at least two guys sitting outside The-Supermarket-That-Shall-Not-Named or next to the cash point asking for any spare change. And I don’t know what to do about it. This is the conversation I have with myself every time I am asked if I have any spare change:

You can’t give money – it’ll only be used for alcohol and drugs. Do you really want your money to support  the local drug dealers?

Who says he’s gonna spend it on drugs? And why is it your business what he does with the money you give? Jesus asked you to help those in need and clearly he is in need.  God has entrusted you with that money – it’s not yours.

But I don’t think God wants his money to be used to support the local drug dealers either. And there are plenty of services out there to help. Maybe this guy prefers a life on the streets and so why should I support him in something that clearly isn’t healthy?

You know it’s rarely as simple as that - no one dreams of a life on the streets. You might be right; he might be most comfortable with living on the streets but it never should have come to that. And who are you to judge?

He’s here every day. He must be getting enough to survive on. So why should I give him anything?   

But you can’t just ignore him – how is that loving your neighbour?

So I could give him food. But he didn’t ask for food. He’s asking for money. Seems a bit cold to stop for a chat but not offer him anything. So what do I do?

I don’t even agree with all these arguments. But, for one reason or another this is what runs through my head and affects the way I act. Most days I hurriedly say ‘Hi’ as I walk past. But on the days when I’m feeling braver/more generous/more loving I stop for a brief chat. And sometimes give money.

But when I walk away I never know if I’ve done the right thing. Or if there even is a right thing?

And then I wonder 'Am I sheep? Am I a goat?' *

And how can I pray for a solution to his problems if I’m not willing to at least be a small part of it?

Answers anyone?

*For those of you wondering how a farm animal metaphor got thrown in check Matthew 25 v 31-46