merefaith: two friends on pilgrimage

Nearly two weeks ago I left Koinonia Farm to attend the annual national meeting of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. This year it was in Washington, DC – a rather pricey place for graduate students, and more than questionable if the Gospel calls us first to serve among the poor and needy, rather than the powerful and complacent. The experience there was a mixed bag, as is the general rule for any large gathering. I have to admit that it was “historic” that the the closing meeting of the CBF was held jointly as the opening meeting of the American Baptist Churches, USA. Yes, no two Baptist bodies have met together in a long time. But the event was fairly spoiled for me because some of the typical plagues that concern me in Baptist life were on full display that evening. Nevertheless, the trip was a refreshing break for the most part, and I enjoyed the good company of friends and classmates from Duke who were there as well. The workshops I attended were generally informative and helpful. It's also always a pleasure to share any time with our fearless leader from Duke's Baptist House of Studies, Dr. Freeman.

Before I left for Washington I felt the urge for a break from Koinonia. I don't think it has anything to do with the community per se, but I did want to take a step back and take stock of what I have been doing. Both the work and the community lifestyle offer certain challenges as well as rewards and so it seemed right to gain some perspective from a distance. Most thankfully, the break seemed to produce a renewed vigor in me. I highly enjoyed myself this past week on the farm. The work hasn't been especially stimulating, and while communal activities were more common this week, they did not create the good feeling. I really don't know what clicked, but I felt particularly motivated each morning to get up and get going, and I looked forward to each day knowing that I would put in some solid work with my hands. It would be really nice if this were a permanent shift in my approach to life on the farm, but more than likely my mood will shift according to the quite normal rhythms that we all experience.

A couple of weeks ago the interns watched an old documentary about Koinonia that was made in the early 1980s. At the closing of the documentary a voice-over of a Clarence Jordan address played across scenes of community members at work. In this recording Clarence tells his audience how the KKK came around and tried to get the community to leave by offering to buy the farm. He then recalls how the property look when he and Martin England came to buy it in 1942. The farm house was dilapidated, the barns were falling apart, and the fields were scarred by first misuse and then later disuse. Clarence describes looking out over the wounded farm and it is as if he is hearing the land cry out to him, “Heal me!” He then recalls the creation story from Genesis and suggests that if humans are made from the soil then to work closely with it should be a deeply spiritual exercise. Clarence returns to the decision posed by the KKK offer. “Sell the farm? You might as well sell your own mother.”

I may not be enough of a farmer (or a preacher) yet to resonate fully with Clarence's eloquent words. Koinonia hasn't quite become my mother. It's still very hot and the gnats are still very plentiful. Community life is a blessing but we're not a bunch of Mother Theresas here. Yet I have heard the cicada choruses sing and I have seen the pecan trees clap their hands in the wind. I have shared in long conversations and played silly games with children. Tomorrow I plan on waking up with a smile on my face.

Labels: Koinonia

Posted by Chris Schelin on Sunday, July 08, 2007 at Sunday, July 08, 2007 | Permalink