Reconsidering Success, by Alex

At Homeboy Industries during Dwell Orientation, 2010

God doesn’t care as much about the “job description” as much as the attitude towards the work. God has called us to be present; to love His people as much as we possibly can, despite who they are or where they come from.

I have been reading a book called Tattoos on the Heart by Father Gregory Boyle. It is an incredible book (I strongly recommend it for anyone). This book is a collection of stories told by a man who has devoted his life to loving people our population often declares unlovable. The tattooed, the drug addicts, the incarcerated, the gang members… he walks alongside them all as they struggle to find their way. Towards the end of the book is a chapter titled Success. I have pulled a brief excerpt from the beginning of the chapter.

…This work has taught me that God has greater comfort in inverting categories than I do. What is success and what is failure? What is good and what is bad? Setback or progress? Great Stock these days is placed in evidence based outcomes. People … want to know if what you do “works."

Salivating for success keeps you from being truly faithful, keeps you from seeing whoever’s sitting in front of you. Embracing a strategy and an approach you can believe in is sometimes the best you can do on any given day. If you surrender your need for results and outcomes, success becomes God’s business.

-Father Gregory Boyle, Tattoos on the Heart

Don’t worry mom. This doesn’t mean that I will surrender all plans for graduate school in favor of spending my days sitting on street corners. This simply means that I need to go through everyday focusing first on serving God and loving those around me as He would.

From Kenya to Hollywood, by Josh

Six months ago, [during my year in Kenya], it was a 45 minute walk to the nearest town; now I can get to five different pawn shops in less than a ten minute walk. Six months ago I was watching bootleg screener movies that I could buy for twenty cents a pop; now I live a stone's throw from where some of these same ones were filmed. Six months ago the toughest food decision was, what can we cook with tomato and onion sauce; now its which of the 500 grocery stores or fast-food chains do I want to buy from. Six months ago I could go outside and hear only the birds and wind; today I fall asleep to the lullabies of ghetto birds(police helicopters) and angry Chihuahuas. Six months ago I lived in a land where a person would give one of his last dollars to another in need; today I live in a county that has upwards of 80,000 persons without a constant roof under which to sleep. (As well as over 262,000 millionaires.) Six months ago I knew high school students who said that they would die to live in the America; today I live in a city where they do. I felt like Kenya was a land of optimists. Things may be bad now, but we have it better than some, and tomorrow will be better. If you focused on the hardships, you would drown in the questions of "Why us?" Today I feel like I live in a land of entitlement. "I deserve this even though I have done nothing to deserve it." "I have so many resources available to me, but I will ignore them and complain about how I deserve a better life." In short; much of the world has little and can make the most of it, yet another portion of humanity has much and turns it into so little. This culture shift has really been playing with my mind lately.

Everything is West of Here?

"But seek first God's kingdom and God's righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." Matthew 6:33- NIV

This week, the Dwellers and I went on a silent prayer walk down Hollywood Boulevard.  We started at the Kodak Theater, walked slowly eastward past desperate star-tour peddlers ("I ask for half of what all the people on that block charge"), windows with "surgically-augmented" dominatrix-clad mannequins, past wide-eyed tourists looking up at the lights, down at the stars.  

Upon reaching the famed Hollywood and Vine corner, one sidewalk-seller says to me, "everything you're looking for is west of here."  Of course, she assumed I was a tourist as I'm sure I looked rather aimless.  Indeed, I had no real agenda or direction, just observing, praying, listening.

After all, west of that intersection is the Chinese Theater, Michael Jackson's star, El Capitan.  There's Hollywood & Highland, the West Coast wanna-be Times Square. Slightly further is ground zero for the Oscar's, where miles of red carpet has rolled over the sidewalks and streets.  A bedazzling attraction, where love looks like paparazzi flashes and sounds like the chatter of entertainment reporters.  But is that everything I'm looking for?  

South of that intersection is Gregory Avenue, a street where everyone knows your name, home of our Dwellers, of la Casa de la Comunidad, a house that leans over to love you, even if you're a teenager who tries to prove yourself unlovable.  There's a tree down in that garden which sometimes produces lemons, sometimes limes (it's either grafting, or some cyclical miracle.) North of that intersection is the University of Montana, where 9 college kids decided to sacrifice vacation time and drive down as a Discover group, trekking through snowy mountains to meet and delight in the tales of homeless folks, walk in their shoes for a minute, make use of their hands for greeting and giving and open their hearts for listening and receiving.  (More photos here.)  East of that intersection is Homeboy Industries, where they hire gangsters & ex-cons to bake cookies and breads, run restaurants, run businesses, encourage their peers, stop bullets with jobs.

Tom and Josh make new friends at Union Rescue Mission on Skid Row. 

And east of that intersection is Hollywood Presbyterian Church, where we were headed. That's the spot that God had smacked me upside-the-head when I was seeking rock-star fame, treasure that fades and dims like flash bulbs, dies down like applause.  On this prayer walk, at this intersection, a familiar old crossroads feeling swells up.  I'm deeply involved in a new search as our home flirts with foreclosure and our nerves fray over discerning what's best for us and our 15-month-old baby girl.  I recognize that I've been grasping for security and stability in finances and real-estate.  I see how I'm spinning myself into something that can be, sadly, rather unlovable.  

Be still.  Seek first the Kingdom.  It's the same search this time as it was years ago.  Only the props are different.

Nothing like one of Emma's home-cooked meals after a long service day.  

We continued eastward.  I continue to wrestle my focus towards treasure that lasts.  I suspect it sounds something like out-of-town college guys laughing when a middle-school girl from the neighborhood schools them in HORSE.  I'm hoping it smells like warm chicken tostadas after a day sorting donated winter coats alongside formerly homeless folks for currently homeless children.  I know it looks like the smile from my daughter, from my wife, when I walk in the door after this long, hard day.

Thank God that we're designed to encourage and redirect one another, especially when we start losing our way  - Matthew

Meeting our new homeless friend RD, hearing about how social media is changing the dialogue on homelessness.  She tweets here: Lost Awareness