In Training

  The two hour drive from Goshen, IN to Chicago was spent talking to Darrell Gascho (head of the Radical Journey program) about his life, our lives, and what we would be experiencing in the coming year.  Krista and I had spent the night in Goshen after Terry and Kay graciously drove us out on Saturday.  We spent a good afternoon/evening with Roger, Rhonda, Matt and Amanda that included lunch with Krista's Grandpa and Grandma Nussbaum.  More "Corn Hole" was played that evening at Jeremy and Laura's house, with a cameo appearance by Nathanael Shue, soon to be flying around Bermuda.

  When we left that Sunday morning at 8:00, we were ready to go.  This seems like a simple phrase to use, but you must understand that when you have been preparing for a certain thing for 5+ months and have spent the last three to four weeks saying extended goodbyes, ready to go is ready to go.  

  The house that we finally pulled up to in Chicago was the home of the DOOR director, Krista Dutt.  DOOR is a program that encourages people to interact and learn from the people, the places, and the God that is in our cities nationwide.  (Because my wife Krista shares the same first name with the same spelling, I will be required to refer to Mrs. Dutt from here out as "KD," something that hasn't necessarily been cleared with her... forgiveness please.)

  KD showed us to our rooms on the second floor of the adjoining First Brethren Church of Chicago, located at 425 S. Central Park just off of Interstate 290.  We were told that those in the group of 16 Radical Journey participants who had already arrived would be waiting for us in the house on the other side of the church deemed, "Faith House," where the other 14 would be staying for the month.  Church would start at 11:00, and we could go meet the others at anytime.  

  As we unpacked in the little half-triangle, sky-lit room, I thought about Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own and thought that perhaps "a room of one's own and fifty pounds a year" was after all a reasonable request for a decent life, though I still don't know why she wanted to put on fifty pounds a year...

The service with First Church of the Brethren  included a prayer request time that unsettled more than a few in the group when petitions were brought forth for two people who had recently been shot in two separate incidents.  We certainly aren't in Kansas, Dorothy.  The congregation has a history longer than this short entry will allow, but it is wrapped up in the Brethren hey-day in Chicago, a seminary, a growing community, a full building.  And then, the realities of "white-flight", the strug

gle to keep the doors open.  Revitalization as a certain man by the name of Martin used the church for a second office while he worked at community organizing (ask Mrs. Palin what that is if you don't know) before returning South to continue giving his life to the cause of reconciling this divided country.  The history then speaks of more years of nearly closed doors, days when 10 people were all the congregation could count on, up through times of community unrest, depression, violence, and ultimately up to today.

  

Orientation proper for the 16 of us began in the upper room of the Faith House.  We were, among other things drawing up a covenant about how we were to live with each other during the month, much like Jesus drew up a covenant with his housemates a couple thousand years previous.  Whether the results of our endeavor came close to matching that precedent is hard to say.  Besides, they had wine, and it is difficult to predict what effect the inclusion of that element would have had on our proceedings.

  The group and living situation is what one of our old high school classmates turned orientation-mate Lee Matsos has deemed "The Mennonite Real World".  Thirteen Americans and three Canadians.  All hailing from somewhere within Oregon, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Iowa, Ohio, South Dakota, Arizona, Ontario, and Manitoba.  Nine women, seven males.  Surely, more will come up about this motley crew later.

  

  Before closing, there is a word to say about Larry, the security guard who lives at the church.  However, time is short, so hopefully this word will be enough to remind me of his small mattress, mini-tv, and his short jug of Kool-Aid.