F&$%ing Ironic!

Alanis Morissette’s got nuthin’ on me. She wants to talk about irony? A traffic jam when you’re already late? Not so ironic unless you happen to be a city planner. Ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife? Maybe if you just cleaned out your kitchen and threw away all your knives. Meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his wife? Nope, not so ironic unless you happen to have just had your spouse cheat on you. Yeah, Alanis didn’t really get irony. But I think I’m starting to get it.

Oh the irony. Let me see if I can’t capture it a bit…

We’ve started a movement marked by the phrase “we’re inviting people to die to self in order to live for their neighbor” and now in a great ironical twist we are seeing the emergence of this movement in our neighborhood in the midst of literal death. Jess and I have lived our lives (at least the last five to six years) to this end, learning, growing, and pushing ourselves toward this way of life only to see (potentially) it happen without us.* We’ve attempted to see an experimental community that is willing to love in radical ways, willing to respond to the needs of those around them in sacrificial ways which demands first a posture of hospitality and listening, we’ve always accidentally been on the front edge of innovating and thinking through new ideas and realities…and now…ironically, we find ourselves once again guinea pigs to our own experiments. Ironically we’re not the ones being able to love others but are instead are being overwhelmed with love, with people responding in creative ways, and with people trying to figure out how in the hell you show hospitality to a family whose only commodity is their precious time. Oh the irony of it all! I could go on…the list gets quite long…but ironically I prefer shorter blogs.

This is just too effing ironic isn’t it?! I mean, come on! Alanis, you’ve got more skills than I, but you didn’t really get the whole irony thing. Let me take a stab…

And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think

It’s like getting cancer when you’ve got no family history

It’s starting a movement about metaphorical death then you end up dying

It’s the idea of inviting others to love your neighbor only to be loved yourself

Who would’ve thought…it figures

Like my previous blog post attempts to capture, what’s emerging in our neighborhood is amazing and beautiful (and I didn’t even write or share about what is happening amongst the amazing co-conspirators who are shaping the Grassroots Conspiracy movement!) But seriously…it is incredibly ironic…painfully ironic…humorously ironic…annoyingly ironic…oh the irony.

 

* Again, don’t get too caught up in the freedom in talking about death. I prefer to speak as if death is the reality (because medically it is) while keeping hope that Jesus will bring an alternative reality. Also while Jess will still be a part in whatever ways she wants or is able, it will nevermore be ‘us’ insomuch as we’ve been partners in most everything we do.