Raspberries...

If I could start this post with a giant "raspberry," I would.

I've been watching a detective show on Netflix that started in about 2000 and ran six seasons. Aside from the fashion sense of the characters (would a professional really wear a shirt that showed midriff at work?), it is most interesting in its statement on "individualism." The main character's favorite refrain is "I don't need help. It's my life." Sick? In trouble? Challenged on a case? Doesn't matter. She doesn't need help. She can do it herself.

And though she always needs help and constantly must be bailed out of trouble…she never learns that community is a gift.

The danger of defining who we are is that we tend to self-define in isolation when we should begin and end our definitions in the communities integral to our lives. If we cannot identify any community that is significant or helpful in our lives, we are in trouble. Humans are not meant to live in isolation, even "chosen" isolation.

All of creation is good until Adam is alone. Not good. We are not complete until we are in community. We are not born self-sufficient. Our very helplessness at birth ties us together. And yet, as we age, we insist more and more that we should do it ourselves…care for ourselves first…be independent…not rely on others for help. When we find ourselves in situations that require assistance, we are embarrassed, we feel ashamed, we spend all our time and energy trying to reclaim our aloneness, claiming that independent solitude is the pinnacle of human achievement.

Raspberry…

Defining ourselves during Lent should begin with relationship. Seeing each other as undeniably interconnected changes the way we live with and for each other. After the last ice storm, a large number of limbs had fallen into the yard. I was preparing to leave town for the week, and once the storm cleared, there wasn't time to clean up the yard before I left. And, I am not adept with a chain saw (Though at times I can cut pretty deep with words, they don't seem to be effective on tree limbs--believe me, I've tried.)

So a couple from my faith community shows up as I am leaving home on Sunday afternoon to cut and clear limbs. I feel guilty for leaving them with the mess. I feel like I should take care of my own business. And I feel SO incredibly grateful for the gift they offer. They spent their Sunday going from place to place, helping people clear. They said it was their worship that day. For me, it was the grace of God enacted.

I had to let go of the cultural insistence on independence before I could experience the grace. I don't know when or if I can "pay them back." They don't expect it. But the fact that there is not an immediate pay back intensifies the grace of the gift.

I wonder how much grace we miss because we are so insistent on taking care of ourselves. How many beautiful friendships do we lose because we are not open to connection. Too busy. Too tired. Too afraid of commitment. Too unsure about where our lives might go next.

Perhaps the people of God should reclaim community as a gift. Perhaps our voices of valuing interdependence needs to be heard. Living together and supporting each other, where no one claims or values independence might be one way God calls us to transformation.

Then raspberries can be for eating.