Celebration of smallness

Today is the last day of work before Christmas for many of us here in the city. It is a cold, windy and grey day, and the streets are hardly buzzing with anticipation as they have been over the past few weeks. Oh, I'm sure the tourists are still in full mob-mode in Midtown and Union Square (where I unfortunately must travel later today to do some last- minute shopping!), but for me, the day represents less of a giddy stepping-off into celebration than a welcome rest from a long and difficult stretch of the journey. A sabbath rest, if you will.

On Sunday night we fly back to San Diego for a week, to stay at my parents' house for Christmas. We are looking forward to spending time with everyone and relaxing. New York must be escaped every now and then so that the sense of wonder remains fresh and constant. Refreshed, we plan to return and move into the next phase of this strange operation called 141-NYC.

What is that phase, you may ask? Well, the primary thing is to move forward into action, but action in a very small and personal sense. We have learned that the city defies any attempt to create static models for minstry, and it resists any attempt to build systems to bring healing. The sheer complexity of masses of human life is one thing; the fact that the city is a beast that is more than the sum of its parts is another. So instead of systems, we look for praxis and learning. We engage, step out into the flow of life and allow it to change us while remaining within our perspective. This is referred to by Miroslav Volf as "double-vision." It involves a willingness to embrace the Other, but without denying our identity (which is of course, defined entirely by the cross).

Practically, this means "getting out there" no matter what the odds or appearances say. After all, there are thousands upon thousands of homeless young people in this city, but I defy anyone to point them out among the crowds. In Portland, we talked about our friends and said that they were invisible to the rest of society, and through love they became visible. When we said "invisible," we were speaking figuratively of course. Squatters and travelers are quite easy to see in Portland. In New York, they are literally and physically invisible. They have to be, because in a city of conspicuous wealth and consumption, symbols of poverty and rejection are not allowed. Or if they are allowed, they are allowed as a token bit of scenery to add to the "urban ambiance" of the city.

So being there, for us, means being aware. It means having clarity of vision (in a very real sense). It means seeing peoples' hearts as we pass by, instead of their outer disguises. I believe that God has been training us to do this for the past five months. He has been teaching us that New York is a city with many layers, and one cannot simply remain on the surface if one wants to truly live here with significance. We have a little bit of money to get started, all that we need right now, because our plan is to ring in the new year in a celebration of smallness. We will be looking for team members, brothers and sisters, fellow travelers who like the idea of starting small and with as little fanfare as possible. We will free the captives, but only one at a time. Sorry if that seems anticlimactic, but like a grey, crappy day right before Christmas, it's perfect for New York.

Advent

It goes without saying, or even needing to be said, that we have not posted in quite some time. I have been blogging on and off for various sites over the past four years or so, and I can tell you that this is a recurring pattern for me. Great fits of activity, insights and poetry are often followed by long doldrums. It is not for the lack of motivation. I think about blogging almost every day. It may be that, for me, blogging is a less-than-ideal form of communication. My personality is such that I want things to come out polished and well thought out, and blogging is much more conducive to immediacy. Kelly, of course, is much better at blogging, and maintains a fairly frequently updated blog on her Myspace page. Anything that has appeared on this site has come from said page. But since I am the self-appointed keeper of the "organizational" (i.e. 141-NYC, whatever that means on any given day), you can be sure that frequency may be an issue from time to time.

That said, I digress, but not entirely, to my subject. We have been attending a Lutheran church for the past few weeks, and it has been quite a different experience for us. It is not so much new for me as a return to the past, as I grew up in the Lutheran church and attended a Lutheran elementary school. I have found the return somewhat refreshing. For Kelly and Luke it is a new thing altogether. Kelly has found, however, that the more structured, tradition-based and liturgical element has significance to her that she had been missing in the non-denominational settings of our past. One of those elements that seems especially relevant to our situation now is the liturgical calendar.

Following the church calendar helps us to realize that seasons are both appropriate and intentional. There are times for celebration, for mourning, and for waiting. There are times for great bustles and bursts of activity, but there are also times of quiet introspection, and all of these are divinely ordained; or at least, they are ok to practice! So we don't have to feel useless or incompetent because we cannot keep up with the manic pace of modern ministry that demands demonstrable results at all times. I realize this is not a new or revolutionary discovery, that I am in a sense discovering something simple that has been there all along. But like Chesterton said, in trying to be the best heretic I could be I ended up finding I was orthodox all along (or something to that effect).

The current season, Advent, means that now is a time for waiting, watching and preparing. It is a time for reflecting on where we are, and looking to the future. The dark blues of Advent and the candles add to the introspective mood. This mood is only heightened by the chill of late fall that quiets the city for brief moments on evening walks by the bay. It is as though our Creator has infused this season with physical properties intended to turn the mind away from activity and in to contemplation. Yes, it is the hectic pre-Christmas season, but the cold air of anticipation also heightens our senses and causes us to pause, to hear the echoes of footsteps on frigid sidewalks, and to remember the places we have journeyed from and journeys awaiting us without roadmaps or directions.

The city of lonely hearts

The question still remains for us about ministry. Why New York? Obviously we have been called here, as we work through our struggles and emerge scathed yet victorious. The tests of our faith have been significant and continue to come on a nearly daily basis. Yet I cannot seem to shake the very vague and very real sense of mission, a mission to the city as a whole and not only an isolated demographic or people group.

I was on one of those tour boats the other day with my parents. We were cruising slowly along the East River, admiring the golden towers of downtown and the graceful aches of the bridges on a glorious fall afternoon. Behind me, I heard someone comment, "The city of lonely hearts." Such a true statement; a place so massive and opulent that it doesn't need people. The noise of progress, of money, fame, or any of a variety of forces drowns out the voice of the individual. New York appears to be the city of the victorious, the heroes who get tickertape parades down the canyons of Broadway. But in reality New York is the city of the underdogs. It is the city of those who try and fail, who hide in the shadows, who maintain mere existence from the table-scraps of the empire. They are everywhere, and they are not only dressed in rags or pushing shopping carts. They are also wearing business suits and scrurrying out of the Broad Street station. They are dressed in their best for a Friday night gallery opening on 24th Street. They are selling you lottery tickets and a Budweiser tallboy with a warm grin at the corner bodega. They will tell you their story if you give them the slightest moment, and the cramped N train car at rush hour is seething with stories that are never told. So perhaps we have been called just to be the people that will stop and listen.

Out of the waiting place

I realize that it has been a really long time since our last entry. There is a reason for that, however. There has not, until recently, been much to write about. I believe that the month of August was a sort of a holding pattern for us, a time for us to become content with the happenings of the moment and to learn not to obesess over the details of the future. It honestly was a painful process. "The Waiting Place" is not a fun place to be, especially in a world where we are used to having answers to questions instantaneously.

With all that said, the last week or so has been very eventful. Things are coming together for us in amazing ways. I just started my new job at Nyack College. I am now the Learning Assessment Specialist for the New York City area. This means that I will be helping students in the adult degree program to come up with the credits they need to complete their degrees. Also it looks like there will be potential for teaching in the future. All in all it looks like a great opportunity and I am very excited. Kelly's work situation is also doing well, she has a few clients that look like they will be on for the long-term.

We will be moving to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn tomorrow morning. We are staying in the basement apartment of a friend's place until we can find our own apartment in the neighborhood. This wasn't our first choice, but it gives us time to get Luke into school and to get settled in to our routines without having to stress too much. I'm looking forward to living in Brooklyn. It's a very different place than Manhattan, but we will still be very close to the area in Manhattan where we are hoping to focus our ministry.

Things are looking up and I am thankful to say that we can all breathe a sigh of relief for the moment. Hopefully now that some of our more basic "survival" needs have been taken care of, we can start to think more about the direction of 141-NYC. This has been an amazing time of learning, testing and observing. I hope to be able to report more on this in the near future. Thank you everyone for your prayers and support.

-Brian

The Heights

181st Street in Washington Heights ( just 3 subway stops away from our neighborhood) is a flowing sea of humanity on a steamy Saturday afternoon. Kelly, Luke and I have set out in search of bargains and some cheap entertainment. We emerge from the subway station at 181st and Fort Washington into the bright summer sun. Walking east, we pass through the quiet, somewhat genteel section west of Broadway (the “gentrified” side of Washington Heights), past organic fruit stands, upscale clothing shops, and a packed Starbucks. Crossing Broadway, we enter into the true heart of the neighborhood on the east side.

The pulse of life beats loud on the Dominican side of the nabe. Mothers drag children through the crowd as sidewalk salesmen negotiate prices of jewelry and watches in animated Spanish. Groups of young men strut past, chatting on cell phones. Cars zoom past as the air fills with booming merengue and reggaeton blasting from tricked-out SUV’s. The smell of empanadas and roast chicken mingles with exhaust and subway fumes. Hordes of kids surround a coco helado cart, begging Mama for some cold, sugary relief from the midday heat.

We walk past blocks of boutiques and bodegas as passers-by nod hello and smile. One shoe store after another advertises their low prices with blaring banners. Kelly stops to peruse the designer knock-off sunglasses at a small stand. “Check it out, five dollars,” smiles the vendor, his hand motioning across his merchandise. She picks out a pair and hands the man a five, and he carefully cuts the tags off with his pocket knife.

Our destination is the Goodwill Thrift Store on 181st and St. Nick’s. Inside, among the crowds of people and deafening beats of cheery Spanish pop tunes, we search for hidden treasures. On the musty racks hang the cast-offs of New York’s more fortunate, recycled here for the benefit of this vibrant neighborhood. In the basement, while Luke digs through piles of toys, I help an old woman with grandmotherly eyes find the right size shoes for her husband. In the process, I find a brand-new pair of Converse Chuck Taylors in my size for only eight dollars.

We return to the street after making our purchases and start to head back west to the A train. After one block, we arrive at a small crowd outside a liquor store. A clever old hustler has set up a street casino on top of an overturned cardboard box – the classic shell game played with three tiny soda-bottle caps. The hustler entices people walking by to try their luck, clutching a handful of dollars. His hands move like lightning, shuffling the caps around and fooling his marks out of their cash. As more people gather, he lets a few win to entice more of them in. We stop to watch a few rounds, then continue up the block.

Suddenly, two uniformed cops push by us quickly in intercept mode. They approach the makeshift casino with shouts in Spanish, but the hustler has already kicked aside his box and disappeared into the crowd. The cops shout questions at those hanging around, but they merely shrug their shoulders and move on. The gap in the human river that was created by the game has sealed up, and the flow continues on uninterrupted. The cops give up on their lost cause and disappear around the corner. Kelly and I exchange grins, our mission for the day fulfilled as usual on the living streets of Upper Manhattan.

Indecision

We are faced with so much input that it is often difficult to process the different messages that we receive. This city is so full of pain, lonliness, beauty, and opportunity that choosing one avenue is a heavy task. On the one hand, we are drawn to familiar surroundings and familiar people. We end up seeking people that remind us of Portland, places that remind us of a home that we have left behind. On the other hand, we are falling in love with our new neighborhood. It is a place so unfamiliar and strange, and at times we feel very much like outsiders, but at other times we are welcomed in with open arms. The pendulum swings back and forth on almost a daily basis as we try to discern that ever-elusive "calling."

I can sit on the stoop outside my building for hours and just watch the world go by. The old men outside the bodega on the corner fill the air with their alternating deep laughter and heated arguments over beers and dominoes. The teenagers strut by in their groups, talking on their cell phones and trying to look tough but really just reminding me of myself in those days. The breezes carry by whisps of roasting chicken one minute, then curry the next, followed by the fresh garbage waiting for pickup on the sidewalk. Families with kids, free-spirited college students and decrepit homebums all pass my glance within the space of minutes. I really do love this place but I wonder whether this is where we need to be.

We have been offered a place to stay for a while by a kind-hearted pastor in Brooklyn. If the financial need arises, we may need to take him up on the offer. I am still waiting to hear back from Nyack College on a faculty position, and I am still hoping and praying that this will be the job. If we end up in Brooklyn, it will take us far from Inwood and I doubt that we would ever return here, at least in the forseeable future. So if the job comes through and we can find a place here, perhaps we will stay. I have to rest in the fact that God is calling the shots and I need to fast from fear and indecision for the moment.

The MoMA and the rose

I visited the Museum of Modern Art and was surprised by my reaction. I walked into the massive building with its five levels. I decided to start at the top and work my way down. By the time I reached the fifth floor my eyes were already tearing up. It was like when I first walked into a church and felt God for the first time.

The first piece I saw was a Picasso called Girl Before A Mirror. The next thing I knew, I had tears running down my cheeks. After that it was one emotion to the next. I reached the fourth level and saw my beloved Starry Night by Van Gogh. It came to life with each defined stroke. Lines appeared that I had never seen before on the prints. With every sparkle of the city lights, there was a house unlit and cold. As the stars exploded into the sky, so did his heart onto his bleeding canvas. I dried my face and moved along.

Every painting told me its story and each sculpture which said “Do not touch” extended its arms to be embraced. Next I found the Warhol section and found myself laughing and comforted by his eccentric sense of humor. Through the five levels I found peace in the sorrow and strength from the struggle. I was able to connect my tears to the many people in my life who are battling depression, drug addiction, anxiety, lust, poverty, exhaustion, love, war, longing and loneliness. I thought of the prisons and the projects and the many stories that I’ve heard on the streets of Portland. I felt the oppression of women and the physical pain that we share as I saw the portrait of Frida Kalho hanging on the wall with all of her hair cut off and lying to her side.

In the midst of all these emotions, my mind brought to me a memory which will forever be engraved. It was the image of Ken Loyd, my pastor, teacher and friend, stopping to touch a thorn on a rose bush. Brian, Ken and I were walking to the Crow Bar for our last “meeting” and in mid-sentence he stopped and said, “How beautiful!” I looked over and saw roses and thought, “Yep, another Portland rose,” but he was touching the thorns. They were massive and sharply pointing in every direction. Ken is someone who always finds beauty in the thorn before even noticing the rose. It’s the thorn that allows us to feel.

As for my experience at the museum and in my 27 years, allowing such pain into my life refines me along with the people around me. We carry each others’ burdens and allow tears and makeup to stain our shirts. We must look into the eyes of our homeless and hug a prostitute and ask for nothing in return. We need to be here for our soldiers when they return, and no longer be afraid of talking about death and the people we’ve loved who have passed on. We must find laughter in the drought. Let’s sing and dance when no one else is. Let our joy be contagious, but remember there’s no joy without pain. We cannot shut our eyes because it hurts to look. There is no rose without its thorn.

-Kelly

Keeping the slow pace

Ok, so I realize it's been a while and I'm not keeping up with the updating thing very well. It has been a very busy almost-two weeks. We have been travelling all over the city, figuring out areas that we might want to live in and just being tourists. We have also been searching vigorously for jobs, and I am happy to say that I already have a few interviews coming up next week. So I can sincerely report that things are going well.

Everything in New York is a challenge. The simplest tasks, like going grocery shopping or going to the post office, are monumental undertakings that require a great deal of time and energy. Of course, we do live in the most densely populated neighborhood in the city, so that doesn't help much. It is very easy to become impatient here, to want things to happen before their time. I suspect that is part of the reason for the stress level here. It forces us to step back from situations, live in the moment and celebrate the small victories here and there instead of always trying to plan out every moment of the future. It is somewhat ironic to me that life in the city requires more of this type of disposition, but I am learning something new every day.

We are still looking for our "nitch" as far as the direction 141-NYC will take. Right now we are still in the dream stage and it is important that we do not try to move too fast. My most sincere hope is that our vision will remain sharp and we will be able to see the small things in the mass of humanity.

The Arrival

The day that we have been awaiting for so long has finally arrived -- we are here in New York City. Actually we have been here for a few days, but have been so busy getting settled in that there has been little time for pursuits such as updating blogs!! The journey out here was long, sometimes painful and sometimes joyful. We traveled through 14 different states and saw many different sides and faces of this country. However, at this point I can truly say that there is no place I would rather be than right here in New York.

Our neighborhood of Inwood is a busy, hectic place, yet also has a warmth one would not expect to find in this city. We have met amazing people from the moment we set foot in the neighborhood, and I belive that this will be a great home base for us to start our explorations. Yes, it's a long, long way uptown, but that gives us plenty of time to enjoy the air-conditioned coolness of the subway trains before stepping out into the heat and humidity of the New York summer.

The city is alive with potential and we are ready to dive in a tap into that energy. At the same time, it is an immense, intimidating and lonely place that can make one feel very small. I feel even more confimation now that we have come to the right place. The small and the insignificant can be ignored so easily in this fast city, and our calling is to keep our eyes open and find them, wherever they may be.

Right now everything is an open book and a blank slate. We are waiting and searching, and hope to have news soon about the direction that 141-NYC will be taking. Now is the time for our infancy in this city, to learn and to take it all in and find out where we fit. Please continue to pray for us and leave comments or drop us a line, we would love to hear from everyone out there.

Update May 18

It has been a few months since we set up this site and much has happened. Since February, most of our time has been consumed with the various tasks associated with moving across the country: packing, getting rid of things, making the logistical arrangements. It has been an incredibly stressful time, but thanks to the support and encouragement of many of you out there it has been exhilirating as well.

Today it is officially 3 weeks until we leave Portland. We will be travelling to San Diego for a few weeks and then making our way across the country, arriving in New York by June 29th. For two months we will be staying in a sublet in Inwood (upper Manahattan). I've never been north of Central Park but I personally can't wait to experience this neighborhood.

Many thanks to Geoff and Crystal Neill for inviting us to speak at The Bridge's "Shaken and Stirred" a few weeks ago. This was our first opportunity to present our vision in a formal setting to a group of people, and it went very well. If you're a Myspace junkie check out the group at http://groups.myspace.com/shakenandstirred (those of you in the Portland area - this is a great monthly event!!!)

All of the busy-ness has made it difficult at times for us to focus on rounding out the vision and mission of 141NYC. Right now we're just trying to get ready, retain our sanity, and soak up as much as possible. I am currently reading Moltmann's The Crucified God which is blowing away my world theologically. Kelly is working on The Irresistable Revolution, a book that is helping both of us immensely in defining and articulating the direction that we are headed.

If you have any input, words of encouragement, or just want to say hello, please feel free to post a comment, or you can email us via the link on our profile page.

Why do we choose to have solidarity with the poor?

We believe that God is the champion of the fatherless, the widow, and the downtrodden. We believe that poverty and its resulting dehumanization of people are the greatest injustices and works of darkness on this earth. The oppression of the poor is an inexcusable evil in our affluent and technologically advanced society. Poverty could be eradicated if not for the greed and selfishness that darken the hearts of men.

The church is called to be a prophetic presence on the earth. The church is called to declare the message of the kingdom of God -- a radical "new way" of life based on love for God and for others (the greatest commandments). The content of Christ's message is summed up in his call: "Repent, for the kingdom of God is near." This repentence implies a change of heart and direction. It means that we refuse to ignore the sufferings of those around us. Instead, we join together with them, and through the "weakness and foolishness" of Christ's cross, declare victory over the powers of oppression.

The church declares this victory by living in community as visible evidence of this "new way."

How can we help people realize their value, beauty and potential?

It all begins with relationship. This means, above all, giving time, walking with people, just hanging out, and paying attention.

It is through these relationships that we discover the gifts and talents of others. For some, they are obvious, or they are more than willing to volunteer their services. For others, it takes a long time to work through the layers of doubt and self-depreciation to see the diamonds beneath.

Once the gifts and talents are discovered, we act as facilitators for allowing these gifts to be used and developed. The community provides the context. Our goal is to develop some kind of venue -- a church service, and arts center, a publication, whatever -- where the community can work together toward a common goal.

How do we plan to do this?

- Outreach - being out on the streets, listening, hanging out, handing out stuff, and most importantly -- loving people face to face

- Listening and becoming aware of needs that we can meet, and finding our niche

-Establishing a gathering place for community events

-Gathering a "core team" of people interested in living in a different way. Meeting together regularly for fellowship, teaching, and building each other up.

Our goals:
1) Assess the needs of our target population
2) Build relationships and discover peoples' gifts, talents and interests
3) Figure out a venue for people to express and practice their talents and gifts
4) Educate ourselves on resources to help people in areas that we can't
5) Find like-minded people, start meeting regularly and building relationships
6) Network/ serve with other social justice-focused organizations
7) Build a "servant mentality" into the DNA and structure of our community

Our mission: why is 141-NYC being created?

- To serve the poor and disenfranchised

-To give invisible people a true realization of their value, beauty and potential

- To provide people from all walks of life the opportunity to serve others in their community

-To foster and demonstrate a community where the values of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control are put into practice

-To resist and oppose injustice, poverty, racism, classism, and the false and destructive "values" of greed, commercialism and image-obsession that rule our culture and society

What is 141-NYC?

141-NYC is a dream and a vision for a better world, starting at the source: the community. It is a community drawn together by a message of hope that is relevant for both this world and the next.

At its most basic level, 141-NYC is the heart and dream of Brian and Kelly Petersen. It is our vision to help create a community in the beautiful, amazing city of New York where people are loved face to face, walls are broken down, and assumptions are challenged.

Our heart is for the disenfranchised and downtrodden. We seek to identify with those who society refuses to see: the rejected, the outcast, the "invisible people." Some call them street kids, homeless, or vagrants. We simply call them the poor, and we believe in a God who loves the poor unfailingly.

141-NYC is a new project, a cross-coastal expansion of the 141 organization based in Portland, Oregon. For the last 2 1/2 years we have spent countless hours with 141, experiencing the privelege of getting to know some of the amazing people living on the streets of downtown Portland. We have laughed, cried, told stories, and listened to the stories of others. We have brought socks, pastries, hoodies and hand warmers to those in need, but mostly we have just hung out. We have discovered beautiful people that have touched our lives, and we hope that through our lives God's grace has touched theirs.

As much as we love our friends in downtown Portland, we believe that a great thing should not be kept isolated. 141 is a unique concept in both the church and social service worlds. It is truly a revolution, and we believe it has the power to change the world. So our desire is to spread the revolution and to help it gain footholds in new territories and among new people.

Right now, 141-NYC is a vision and a plan. It is a framework waiting for flesh. We need your prayers and your help to make it a reality. Will you partner with us in showing God's unfailing love to those the world has cast aside?

Welcome to 141NYC

Welcome to the temporary and unofficial home of 141NYC. This site will serve as our journal, informational portal, and our sketchpad for ideas in the formative stages of 141NYC. Right now, a blog seems to be the most expedient way to get the word out -- we are able to update constantly, throw around new ideas and get feedback, and provide a way for those interested in what we are doing to find out a little more about us. Of course, we will eventually upgrade to a real, live website, but at this point in the game it's probably unnecessary.

We welcome your comments and suggestions, and your correspondence. This site is currently under construction, but soon we hope to have our basic mission and vision statements up for all to peruse, as well as contact info and even a tip jar for those that would like to contribute. Feel free to look around and enjoy, and make sure to say hello!