Author: Michele Minehart (Page 153 of 311)

Who’s your church?

One of my newest favorite things about our town is the presence of a Co-op to help enable me to buy local foods and goods. I’ve loved the localvore idea for a while but lacked the gumption to seek out vendors and farmers and artisens for all my goods. The idea that I can arrive at Meijer and get it in my cart and out the door in under an hour held too strong a temptation. But Stone’s Throw brings together these goods in one roof (where the world’s best bacon is also sold). I love the whole idea. 

So we joined the cooperative this spring (don’t ask why it took us 9 months… because I’m positive laziness had nothing to do with it. *Insert sarcastic eyeroll*) and have been enthusiastically showing patronage to “the market”. Gradually, but with increased vigor.
Tonight a friend invited me to a meeting for all member-owners where the work of the coop is discussed and distributed. Up. My. Alley. They spoke of newsletters and signups. Words like “community” sloshed freely. I might have even piddled a little when someone made mention of a board retreat. 
As poor attendance at board meetings took the lead in discussion, I almost blurted out a remark about the drastic similarities in operation with my church work life, but held it in. From that point forward, I began making a mental list. 
1. First and foremost, it’s a group of people with a common vision. Ask any person about that vision and you’ll get unique answers, but among the group it’s narrow enough to become distinguished. Everyone’s initial reason for joining stems from a different source, but at the end of the day the thread of the vision sews the people together. 
2. Board meetings, newsletters, committees. None of which have ever actually proven effective, but alternatives are few and far between. So the machine moves slowly, no matter how much energy and excitement the people put forth. Not a criticism: a statement of reality. I imagine it like a group of people pushing a large steamroller up a hill. I’m enthusiastically getting out to push. 
3. Buildings. I never took an Org Comm or sociology of groups class, but I wonder if territory always sits in the high place of goals and conversation. Our coop currently borrows space in the meat shop (which, as mentioned, sells the best bacon. Yes, it’s good enough to warrant a second mention), but a storefront has been a part of the original plan. However, that conversation has been tabled to (as my business world partners would say) “focus on the core needs of the business.”  But meshed into the conversation is the idea of if we build it they will come vs. other core principles of identity. This one might be most fascinating to me. 
4. Beliefs. It comes down to how a person sees and interprets the world and what is true about it. Whether it be about the celestial, green, local, or health views, people participate and engage because something at their core says, “this. is. good.” 
Despite ineffective delegations and monotonous meetings, people seem to congregate together for a common purpose to see change. As if, whether or not they have a church that worships Jesus, they have other churches. And in some ways these pseudo-churches are doing better at having church than the Church. They understand that breaking bread is instrumental. Members show excitement for the cause and engage on more than a surface level. The rate at which participants show up on Sunday for the sake of coming seems much lower  – probably because there’s no fear of eternal damnation, just the threat of cancer from bad food.

I think we have a lesson to learn. And I’m super excited for a ringside seat with my coop. Actually, more than a seat: a shovel. I’m ready to dig in.

“You’re so lucky”

KLR used to tell me this before I married JJ after he did something outright goofy or strange. You can imagine the tone. But she joked because she knew it was true: I am lucky. Cases in point:

1. I married into a family that values heritage and my MIL graciously put us up a few nights in the hotel so we could attend the family reunion. 
2. After a long, tiring weekend we came home and the kids successfully avoided a nap due to dozing while in transit. So we’re cooking dinner and getting the house together and the kids are tired and hungry and we’re a notch above grumpy. And JJ still takes time to show H Boy proper wiffle ball form as we’re waiting for the food too cook. It wasn’t just the absence of frustration and shouting, but the extra mile of engagement with the kids that kept sanity levels to a functioning level. 
3. Miss M fell in love with her first non-grandma figure, Aunt Mary. It was so endearing to watch her seek her out and request to sit with her and on her lap. She’s normally a cling-to-us-around-strangers gal, so it was wonderful to watch her hatch out of her shell. On another M note: she’s great with names. She also pointed out Uncle Gary to Aunt Helen and only saw the back of his head. 
4. It never fails the kids are STARVING before dinner and begging snacks. And mine request frozen peas and tomatoes from the garden. They make it easy to say yes whenever possible.

5. For most of the world, tomorrow is Monday. But in this house, it’s just a day that JJ’s getting a few tasks done and I’m keeping the kids for some low-key play. God bless my employer for time off. 

It’s so [easy] to say I’m sorry

Well, now that it’s gained national attention, the students apologized. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in those students’ homes, parents lashing out about how they could “do such a thing” and “do you realize how this makes us look?” and the whatnot. 

Well, students, I do not accept your apology. I don’t believe you’re sorry; I think you’re sorry you got caught. 
I know, perhaps it’s up to the bus monitor to actually accept the apology, and in her 65 years of wisdom, she probably will. But I’m still too idealistic. I refuse the apology. 
It’s too easy to screw up and simply apologize your way out of it. Or worse: say “I’m just kidding.” One of the scriptures that hits me close to the heart, which I think should be hung in every middle school classroom, is Proverbs 26:18-19: Like a madman who throws firebrands, arrows and death, so is the man who deceives his neighbor and says, “was I not joking?”
Somehow, like the ways in which we don’t know the weight of our words to hurt, we also don’t realize how insincerity prevents healing. Tossing out an “I’m sorry” as we go on our way doesn’t help bring resolution. We’ve began to treat such words as a way to release us from our own guilt, as opposed to bringing reconciliation. 
Though I can nary remember a Hebrew verb form, I do recall a factoid gained through translating a verse on ox goring. Yes, seriously, ox goring. “If a man’s ox gores another ox…”and then there’s a “gorer of gorers” phrase, meaning “the mother of all oxes that gore”. (Just notch this one on the belt of “learn something new everyday”). IN ANY CASE, in learning about ox goring, we also learned what retributions were to follow if your ox gored either another ox or a person. The cost differed depending on the offense. Also, if it was a habitual gorer. 
The point? Yes, there is one. My professor told us that in Old Testament law, one could not simply say “I’m sorry” and consider the situation resolved. They had to pay retributions. And it wasn’t simply a way to keep things fair – one can not simply replace a beloved ox. But something within the culture – and God’s character, I’m prone to wonder – required you show, not just say, apologies. This is where “eye for eye, tooth for tooth” comes in. The phrase has nothing to do with revenge. It means giving back that which you destroyed. Making amends is about offering, not taking, what was destroyed. 
 
So, if you ask me, these kids need to replace a gored ox. In terms of a fair retribution, I don’t have a lot of suggestions. They made so many cracks about her weight, I’d be inclined to send them to “fat kid camp” (or a kid version of the Biggest Looser) where they can replace their bullying habits by learning confidence and how to overcome life’s challenges with effort instead of pushing others around. 
This situation prompted me to reflect upon how I can help my own kids engage in true repentance. I’m sure there will be times when an offhanded “sorry” is the best we’ll get. But in terms of habits, how do we instill the idea that rectifying the relationship takes priority over relieving our own sense of guilt? How do we steer them, with their I’m Sorrys, toward change? Though my kids recite it, how do they begin to embody the idea that “I’m sorry means I won’t do it again”? 
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