No Question

Some time ago I worked for a company which had a bad reputation. Within the sector this company was well known for its meager rate of pay, poor treatment of staff, exploitation of the industry and thoroughly unlikeable managers. Stories were often told about employees who fell out of favour with management and were quietly asked to leave. Others about employees who, after years of faithful service were unceremoniously dismissed on a whim. I worked in fear of the day when I would be summoned into that room and asked not to return.

Although I don't know why.

I say I believe in a God who created the whole universe, who spoke and the stars listened, whose one breathe gave birth to an entire human species and who understands every language, notion and gesture ever made. Because we are his- he knew us before we had the ability to know ourselves, he has cared for us from the very beginning of existence. I can trust him with a little thing like a job and I can trust him with a little thing like money and I can trust him with a little thing called family...or so I say.

But what I do is something different.

What I do is take things into my own hands, what I do is act in my own power, what I do is rely on my own strength, my own friends, my own self, me.

Although I really don't know why.

I have the power of the universe at my fingertips, I have the breath of the Creator on the tip of my tongue, I have an abundance of resources at my disposal, so what stops me from getting started? If I believe in a God who created light out of darkness, and speaks strength into weakness, who walked the earth healing the sick and caring for those uncared for, what prevents me from walking in the same way? When Jesus says "Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14:27)  when he has been to the grave and back, then truly what do I have to fear? Only myself and my own shortcomings, which surely God can make up for in his immense grace. It's like being given an opportunity to work with the greatest employer, in the most important company in the world, who designed a position specifically for me, but instead of agreeing to work with him I turned him down.

But who would do that?

The discipline of community

Some time ago I had reason to intervene in an argument between two members of the Credo Community. They were outside of Credo at the time, so it was a little harder to contain, but basically one was calling attention to a flaw which he saw in the other. At the time I remember asking the person whether he himself was without flaws, to which he answered honestly, no. I then challenged him with a statement that seemed simple enough at the time, but has since haunted me with its truth. "Could it be, that the reason you are arguing with Joe, is not because of anything he does, but because his doing it reminds you of something in yourself that you don't like?"

Well, that put a quick end to the argument, along with any conversation which may have followed, as we all then stood in stunned silence...

I recalled this instance recently, in light of myself and my own frustrations within community:

I came to the realisation that, inevitably people will annoy me, particularly if I am around them, and they around me, for any period of time. However, if I recognise, that the thing I am annoyed about in them, exists within me too, (that in fact I am just as annoying to them as they are to me), and that they exercise grace and acceptance daily towards me. Then, I too, should persist in my efforts to exercise grace and acceptance daily towards them, even when I am tempted to argue or try to gain the upper-hand.

I guess in this way, we are learning the discipline of community, or what the bible would call "bearing with one another in love".

But it's bloody hard work in reality!

Mehrin.

Credo Master Class

Here are our friends Raymond, Dave and Raylene showing us how to make delicious Lentil and Chickpea Burgers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ElZYfHlaVEw

Photos of Credo

These photos of Credo were taken a while ago, but the place hasn't changed too much since then...

 

I shall come back to you...

 "Yahweh appeared to him at the Oak of Mamre while he was sitting by the entrance of the tent during the hottest part of the day. He looked up and there he saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them, and bowed to the ground. 'My lord,' he said 'if I find favour with you please do not pass your servant by. Let me have a little water brought, and you can wash your feet and have a rest under the tree. Let me fetch a little bread and you can refresh yourselves before going further, now that you have come in your servant's direction'...Then his guest said, 'I shall come back to you next year...'" Gen 18:1-10.

Mehrin's perspective:

I saw an old friend today. Someone I haven't seen in close to a year. She was on the bus that I took to work. She recognised me first, as I stepped onto the bus and validated my ticket. "Hello," she said, "hello, hello" I was off in a day-dream and didn't notice to begin with. Then I twigged, "Oh, Hi, Hi, how are you?" "Pretty good" she responded, as she tried to make room for me, on the slightly-too-small bus seat. As we travelled together, we caught up, "What have you been up to? Are you still staying in the same place?" All the common questions that come up for friends who haven't seen each other in a while. She spoke about work, and the enjoyment she gets from it. The sense of accomplishement she feels when she takes home her pay-packet. We laughed about the fact that she's looking forward to paying taxes, because then, she reasoned, no one could say she's not doing her bit.

When we reached my friend's stop, we said our goodbyes. As she stepped off the bus and into her day, I thought about the first time we had met, in Credo. About how far she'd come since then. I found myself really grateful for the place that Credo is, and it's ability to hold people through hard times.

Oftentimes we get to know people best when they are at their lowest point, and once they're doing well, they don't come in anymore. It's hard not to wonder about them, where they are, what they're doing. So, it's all the more encouraging when, on days like today, I see an old friend, and she's in a good place.

The shoe's on the other foot

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you think you're helping someone, but in reality they end up helping you? I find myself in that position quite a lot nowadays. 

Whether it's at Credo, at home or work, with family, just about everywhere I go, I encounter this role reversal, and each and every time I am surprised by it.

My most recent reality-check was this morning. We were gathering for 15 minutes before we started serving lunch. As part of this time we often sing a few songs. I had been busy adding the finishing touches to the chicken and dumpling soup we were about to eat, and so missed the first couple of songs.

As I joined the circle and started singing with the rest of the group, an amazing thing happened. One of the women, who is a regular at Credo, smiled and gestured to me to come in closer. Now, I had been in Credo since shortly after 10am that morning, I'd been boiling and chopping and frying in that kitchen for almost two hours. But something about that gesture, and that smile made me feel more welcome in the space, than any of the cooking I could do. I realised, in that moment, that I was accepted, irrespective of what I had, or did.

It's like when someone says to me, "Oh, you're such a good person for doing what you do." I feel like saying to them, if only you knew, if only you knew how much I gain for the little I give.

By way of introduction:

As we were talking about the blog this afternoon Danyelle came up with a wonderful suggestion: "Why don't each of us explain how we came to be at Credo?"

Mehrin's perspective:

I found out about Credo Cafe around three years ago now, through a friend from church. He invited me to come and see what he did during the week. We met at the Town Hall on Swanston St and he led me up little Collins St, and down a dead-end laneway. At first I didn't know what to think, as he banged on a glass window and someone came to the door. I remember coming into Credo for the first time, and sitting at the table, asking what was for lunch. "Spag Bol" someone said, and I thought, great, no worries, this'll be delish! Then my mate told me it was made with kangaroo mince..."What!" I said, blawking at the thought of eating kangaroo. "It's roo!" he said again, trying to keep it quiet. Now, I have tried many exotic foods over the years: tripe, lamb's testicles, centurian egg...the list goes on, but never before, had I even thought about eating kangaroo. What was I to do? I was a guest, I didn't want to be rude. So, I tried a little bit, it was so rich, after three or four mouthfuls I was full, I excused myself from the table and cleared my plate.

Food aside, my first few experiences of Credo were eye opening. I couldn't believe how many people were university educated, and yet still found themselves sleeping rough, or in bed-sits and boarding houses. My knowledge of homelessness and it's impact, was next to nothing before I started hanging out at Credo. Now I learn so much, each week, as we sit down to lunch together.