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Nothing is sweet or easy about community. Community is a fellowship of people who do not hide their joys and sorrows but make them visible to each other in a gesture of hope. In community we say: "Life is full of gains and losses, joys and sorrows, ups and downs�but we do not have to live it alone. We want to drink our cup together and thus celebrate the truth that the wounds of our individual lives, which seem intolerable when lived alone, become sources of healing when we live them as part of a fellowship of mutual care."

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So often we are inclined to keep our lives hidden. Shame and guilt prevent us from letting others know what we are living. We think: "If my family and friends knew the dark cravings of my heart and my strange mental wanderings, they would push me away and exclude me from their company." But the opposite is true. When we dare to lift our cup and let our friends know what is in it, they will be encouraged to lift their cups and share with us their own anxiously hidden secrets. The greatest healing often takes place when we no longer feel isolated by our shame and guilt and discover that others often feel what we feel and think what we think and have the fears, apprehensions, and preoccupations we have.

Lifting our lives to others happens every time we speak or act in ways that make our lives lives for others. When we are fully able to embrace our own lives, we discover that what we claim we also want to proclaim. A life well held is indeed a life for others. We stop wondering whether our life is better or worse than others and start seeing clearly that when we live our life for others we not only claim our individuality but also proclaim our unique place in the mosaic of the human family.

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One very moving celebration I remember was that of Bill's Life Story Book. A Life Story Book is a collection of photographs, stories, and letters put together as a sort of biography. When Bill came to Daybreak as a sixteen-year-old, he brought few memories with him. He had had a very troublesome childhood and hardly any consistent experiences of love and friendship. His past was so broken, so painful, and so lonely that he had chosen to forget it. He was a man without a history.

But during twenty-five years at Daybreak, he gradually has become a different person. He has made friends. He has developed a close relationship with a family he can visit on weekends or holidays, joined a bowling club, learned woodworking, and traveled with me to places far and wide. Over the years he has created a life worth remembering. He even found the freedom and the courage to recall some of his painful childhood experiences and to reclaim his deceased parents as people who had given him life and love notwithstanding their limitations.

Now there was enough material for a Life Story Book because now there was a beautiful although painful story to tell. Many friends wrote letters to Bill telling him what they remembered about him. Other sent photographs or newspaper clippings about events he had been part of, and others just made drawings that expressed their love for him. After six months of work, the book was finally ready, and it was time to celebrate, not just the new book, but Bill's life, which it symbolized.

Many came together for the occasion in the Dayspring Chapel. Bill held the book and lifted it up for all to see. It was a beautifully colored ring binder with many artistically decorated pages. Although it was Bill's book, it was the work of many people.

Then we blessed the book and Bill, who held it. I prayed that this book might help Bill let many people know what a beautiful man he is and what a good life he was living. I also prayed that Bill would remember all the moments of his life�his joys as well as his sorrows�with a grateful heart.

While I prayed, tears started to flow from Bill's eyes. When I finished he threw his arms around me and cried loudly. His tears fell on my shoulder while everyone in the circle looked at us with a deep understanding of what was happening. Bill's life had been lifted up for all to see, and he had been able to say it was a life to be grateful for.

Now Bill takes his Life Story Book with him on his trips. He shows it to people as a man who believes his life is not something to be ashamed of. To the contrary, it is a gift for others.

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Originally posted by Freebird:
[qb] The following is of track, but I want to mention Terri who is an old timer here on Shalom Place, and acknowledge the great insights given in her postings. It is really good Terri that you are visiting here more often. Hi to Terri [/qb]

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Originally posted by Brad:
[qb]As I look around the internet I see this sense of community or fellowship as an implicit goal when people get together. Often of secondary interest is the subject at hand. It�s the discussion that is invigorating, not necessarily the subject being discussed.[/qb]

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We think: "If my family and friends knew the dark cravings of my heart and my strange mental wanderings, they would push me away and exclude me from their company." But the opposite is true. When we dare to lift our cup and let our friends know what is in it, they will be encouraged to lift their cups and share with us their own anxiously hidden secrets.

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Originally posted by Freebird:
[qb] I have learned that it is okay to agree and/or disagree with others without leaving the forum like I did last year due to a real or imagined threat to my ego or my fragile self-worth in the presentation of a thread which was not received as I desired and had hoped for.[/qb]

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But might we say that at least something is pushed away if we don�t dare share the cravings of our hearts and strange mental wanderings with others? Don�t we perhaps push life away if we insist on living within the boundaries of what is non-threatening to those around us?

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We must at least be prepared to mentally wear one and not let the slings and arrows of fortune, outrageous or otherwise, unnecessarily buffet us and have undue influence over us. Again, perhaps that�s a rather na�ve Nouwenesque ideal that becomes rather unworkable, or difficult to work, in the real world where compromising ourselves becomes easy, especially when we rationalize it as being good, as doing what it takes to "get along", etc. That�s a road to losing oneself as well.

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And you seem to suggest that we need to be anchored to something more than just the opinions of others. I would agree. And at the same time, we live with people and it becomes important to us what others think, and rightfully so. Perhaps that�s what they say about choosing one�s friends carefully. It�s not that we need to surround ourselves with yes-men or yes-women, but it would surely do to surround ourselves with people around whom we didn�t have to walk on eggshells and could just be ourselves.

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And if we�re really grown on this path, we�ll give that right to complete strangers as well. And then maybe we will have arrived.

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A few years ago, one of the handicapped members of the Daybreak community had to spend a few months in a mental hospital in Toronto for psychological evaluation. His name is Trevor. Trevor and I had become close friends over the years. He loved me and I loved him. Whenever he saw me coming, he ran up to me with a great radiant smile. Often he went into the fields and collected wildflowers for me�

During the time Trevor was away from Daybreak, I decided to go see him. I called the hospital chaplain and asked him if I could visit my friend. He said I was welcome to come and wondered if it would be all right if he invited some of the ministers and priests in the area and some members of the hospital staff to have lunch with me. Without thinking much about the implications of this request, I said immediately, "Sure, that will be fine."

When I arrived at 11:00 a.m., a large group of clergy and hospital personnel was waiting for me, and they welcomed me warmly. I looked around for Trevor, but he wasn't there. So I said: "I came here to visit Trevor. Can you tell me where I can find him?" The hospital chaplain said: "You can be with him after lunch." I was stunned and said, "But didn't you invite him for lunch?" "No, no," he said, "that's impossible. Staff and patients cannot have lunch together. Moreover, we have reserved the Golden Room for this occasion, and no patient has ever been allowed in that room. It is for staff only." "Well," I said, "I will only have lunch with you all when Trevor can be there too. Trevor and I are close friends. It is for him that I came, and I am sure he would love to join us for lunch." I noticed some mixed reactions to my words, but after some whispering I was told that I could bring Trevor with me to the Golden Room.

I found Trevor on the hospital grounds, as always, looking for flowers. When he saw me his face lit up, and he ran up to me as if we had never been apart and said, "Henri, here are some flowers for you." Together we went to the Golden Room. The table was beautifully set, and about twenty-five people had gathered around it. Trevor and I were the last to sit down�

People were making small talk. Many of the guests were strangers trying to get to know each other. The general atmosphere was quiet, somewhat solemn. I got quickly involved in a conversation with my right-hand neighbor and didn't pay much attention to Trevor. But suddenly Trevor stood up, took his glass of Coke, lifted it, and said with a loud voice and a big smile: "Ladies and gentlemen�a toast!" Everyone dropped their conversation and turned to Trevor with puzzled and somewhat anxious faces. I could read their thoughts: "What in the heck is this patient going to do? Better be careful."

But Trevor had no worries. He looked at everybody and said: "Lift up your glasses." Everyone obeyed. And then, as if it were the most obvious thing to do, he started to sing: "When you're happy and you know it�lift your glass. When you're happy and you know it�lift your glass. When you're happy and you know it, when you're happy and you know it, when you're happy and you know it�lift your glass." As he sang, people's faces relaxed and started to smile. Soon a few joined Trevor in his song, and not long after everyone was standing, singing loudly under Trevor's direction�.With his unique blessing, Trevor had set the tone for a joyful and fruitful meeting. The cup of sorrow and joy had become the cup of blessings�

Many people feel cursed�cursed by God with illnesses, losses, handicaps, and misfortunes. They believe their cup doesn't carry any blessings�Trevor did what nobody else could have done. He transformed a group of strangers into a community of love by his simple, unself-conscious blessing. He, a meek man, became the living Christ among us.