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Last week, four of our six *cino interns moved into the rectory of Trinity Episcopal Church, just a short walk down Main Street from my and Rob's apartment, and a short bike ride from Huss School.

At the moment, Johnathan is working at his paid internship with White Yarrow Farm while the rest of us are enjoying the cool early-summer breeze flowing through the VG-R aerie at 37 N. Main. Liz and Marian are collecting quotes for the daily asterisk (sign up here to receive the fruits of their labor via e-mail every week day), while Paul is getting started on grant research for the Imagining Space project. Now playing: The Middle East.

Last week was a patchwork of arrivals and re-arrivals and getting-started sorts of tasks. We...

• Moved furniture and belongings to and fro.


• Cleaned the rectory and arranged it to look like a home.


• Started to stock the rectory pantry.


• Shared our first Friday evening meal together--homemade lasagna, breadsticks, salad (picked and prepared by Johnathan), rhubarb crumble (local rhubarb with Marian's neighbor's recipe), English tea (prepared by Paul).


• Attended the Sunday service and annual workday with Trinity Episcopal.


• Chipped in at the Triple Ripple Community Garden at Huss.


• Started the training process at World Fare with Marian, Paul and Johnathan.


• Walked, biked and drove around town to become more familiar with the place.

This afternoon over lunch, we'll have our first official meeting as a staff to continue fostering a cohesive sense of purpose, building relationships with one another, communicating and assigning tasks--and of course, nourishing our bodies with fresh, local, delicious, homemade food! One of the items on our agenda will be figuring out how to document this intern experiment in a way that welcomes you, our readers out there, into the story, so stay tuned for more to come...

Holy Saturday began as most of my Saturdays have begun since January: waking up early and driving into the country out west of town to help care for Moon, a blind horse owned by my new friend Carol. This work is part of a three-way barter, in which I obtained an icon of Christ Teacher for Rob's thirtieth birthday and the artist gifted my time to Carol. I didn't shower or change out of my work clothes when I returned home in the new light of the unseasonably warm day. Rather, I enjoyed a cup of coffee and then Rob and I headed over to Huss School to try to finish some tasks and find time for reflection before the afternoon's predicted rain.

One of our first objectives was simply to walk the back property--about three acres behind the school--and imagine where things could go and what they might look like in the future, including the community garden that our friends Brenda and Julianna have in the works. Our current plan is to mark off areas of the massive lawn that we will not mow, in order to save time and fuel and to create a more welcoming habitat for the many creatures who forage on the property when humans aren't around. From an upstairs window, I could see a flock of birds, several squirrels and a woodchuck happily searching for food, with the calls of sand hill cranes in the distance. We want to be friendly to them, but also to our neighbors, which is why we'll strive to make the wildness look lovely and communicate our intentions via letters, signage and clean edges.

While we were walking out curved lines around the trees, we heard another familiar call in the distance: our friend Jo Ann. She's been an ally in righteous trouble making for several years now, which is why I took notice when she expressed her vision for a part of the property I'd initially considered rather useless: a paved area on the side of the newer part of the building conveniently hidden by a six-foot fence where locals had gotten into all manner of trouble smashing glass and spray painting. Being right off the gym kitchenette, however, and under the shade of the neighbor's trees, Jo Ann saw a perfect party patio. Yes! Seeing the space through new eyes opened up a whole world of possibility.

After Jo Ann left, we proceeded with the next agenda item: measuring an upstairs classroom and brainstorming possible arrangements for second floor living space. Then, it was on to finishing the weeding of one of the front flowerbeds. And finally, we set to work clearing the aforementioned patio area of leaves, sticks and the debris from cleaning the roof during the spring break trip. The supreme find of that work was some completely composted leaf mould that was loaded with worms! I scooped up as much as I could and, with apologies to the worms, relocated them to the front flower beds to continue their good work there.

By 12:30 pm, the rain was coming down pretty good and turning much of what we were trying to move into mud. Remembering the spring break trip rule that had been so life-giving of stopping our tasks at 12:30 for lunch, we decided it was quittin' time and headed home to dry out and eat. We'll finish the patio another day, but it already looks much better than it did.

The afternoon was filled with chatting and waiting until Terry arrived. Terry's a new acquaintance whose name first popped up during our initial campaign to purchase Huss School, though he'd been a classmate of my parents' in high school. He was passing through and wanted to take the opportunity to see the school. It was wonderful to show him around--another set of new eyes.

But his wouldn't be the last tour of the day. Around 3:30, student friends from Grand Rapids started to arrive for a simple dinner to mark the end of Lent, followed by participation in the annual Easter vigil at St. Gregory's Abbey. We were absolutely delighted that the interest of a few in coming down for the vigil had turned into a caravan of eight. I made a triple batch of Zero Soup from one of my Moosewood cookbooks with a bunch of vegetables we'd frozen last summer, along with whole wheat rosemary focaccia. It was joined by Natalie's delicious french bread and one of the biggest, most beautiful fruit salads I've ever seen.

Before dinner, we headed to the school. One of the students who came down had been part of the spring break trip, but the others had never seen the building before. It was so refreshing to walk through accompanied by their questions and ideas and laughter. At the end of our tour and from an upstairs window again, I noticed another critter in the yard--this time of the young human variety carrying some sort of gun and beckoning to his friends. Back at the patio for the second time that day, I caught the three of them and introduced myself. I don't think I was too intimidating, but poor Isaiah could barely spit out his name. Brandon and Ryan were a little more relaxed, though still very talkative about all of the troublemakers they'd seen around the school. I learned about the guy who spray painted "I love Chelsea" on the brick and about the kids who party in the back courtyard when we leave. It was a very non-linear conversation, but I did manage to tell them a few things about what we hope to do at the building and to invite their help in watching over it (albeit without pointing their "toy" guns at anyone). I'm looking forward to being able to greet them by name and meet their parents, who have wisely taught them not to run around with their guns loaded and to always point them at the ground.

Back at our apartment, ten of us gathered around the table and read Stephen Mitchell's translation of Psalm 90, a poignant reminder of how brief our lives are in the history of the world and in the context of eternity. But it finishes with a prayer for gratitude and purpose:

Teach us how short our time is;
Let us know it in the depth of our souls.
Fill us in the morning with your wisdom;
Shine through us all our lives.
Let our hearts soon grow transparent in the radiance of your love.
Show us how precious each day is; teach us to be fully here.
And let the work of our hands prosper, for our little while.

And then we ate our humble feast, and then we headed out toward the Abbey.

The Abbey's Easter vigil begins at 11:00 pm on Holy Saturday with the lighting and blessing of a new fire and the lighting of the Paschal candle. Then we process into the church for the reading of key stories from the Hebrew Bible, all building toward the transition of midnight. At precisely the right time, the bells ring and the room is illuminated and we remember our baptisms and we sing and we commune. And then we party, resurrection style. Brother Abraham made some delicious snacks, graciously considering the vegans and vegetarians among us, to accompany the wine. I enjoyed good conversation with the Abbot and with our friend Margaret, who was home from college on spring break. And finally, I thanked Brother Abraham for the hospitality of the Abbey, with a promise to continue our conversation about potential points of connection between the Abbey and the Huss School project. At 2:30 a.m., Rob and I finally collapsed into bed, full of surrender and hope.

I'm never quite sure what to make of days like this and I think that's a good thing. Like the mysteries of the Easter vigil, a highly liturgical ritual from a tradition I'm just beginning to know, the patterns of my life lately are filled to the brim with mysteries. How and why were we able to raise the money for *cino to purchase Huss School? Why are these college students, who have so many amazing gifts and ways of seeing the world, interested in visiting our humble little town? Why are friends of my parents from several states away popping up into the story? What's going to grow in that little flower bed in front of the school this summer, much less on several acres ten years from now? How will our connections to Brandon and Ryan and Isaiah develop over the next few years as their neighbors? Some days can be such inscrutable gifts, when I can hardly keep up with all of the ways the past, present and future are mingling together into an epic story in which we, ephemeral candleflames and dust and grass that we are, have roles to play.

Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:
Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.

And we do proclaim it over and over again, don't we? Not just in the words of an Easter vigil or of a communion liturgy, but in longing and gratitude, we seek to do so every day, and in all things.

When I'm at the Abbey, I don't understand why we kneel when we do or when to bow or what tune to sing or even when I should add my female voice to the lower intonations of the monks. And when I'm at Huss School, I feel equally in the dark, but the smell of damp leaves and the feel of cool cinderblocks and the sounds of sand hill cranes remind me: I am here. I am here for my little while and I have good work to do. I am here, where many others have been and will be in the presence of One who sustains us all. "Behold I am doing a new thing," says the book held by Christ the Teacher in the icon painting that sits in our living room. "Now it shall spring forth."

Raking: check. Well, the front yard at least. One of the themes of the week has been adjusting our sense of scale with the school as tasks take more time, more people and taller ladders than we expect. That said, our feeling after our last morning of school work was that we made quite a bit of progress. The gym is cleaner than it has been in a while, the building is somewhat aired out, some of the stuff-sorting work is finished and we're starting to get set up for a potential rummage sale fundraiser. Sure, there's a lot more to do, but there's always going to be a lot more to do. We finished our time together working at Huss with a photo in front of the giant leaf pile and a reading of Oscar Romero's famous prayer.

After leaving the school, we enjoyed a more leisurely lunch than we've had all week and took some time after we ate just to rest and read and nap--a welcome space of quiet. Just before 3:00, we commenced our art explorations. First, we walked a half block to the Carnegie Center for the Arts to see the current exhibits, as well as some of the creative learning spaces within the building. Then, we piled in the van (leaving Rob behind to staff World Fare) to visit Larry-Michael and Becky Hackenberg at their wetland property along the St. Joseph River called Floodplain meadow. We took a short walk around to see and hear how they've worked to steward the marshy "fast food restaurant for birds," honoring the creatures and history of their place. Afterwards, we gathered in their warm, cozy living room with hot cups of tea to hear their thoughts about the arts in the Three Rivers community. Larry-Michael is a watercolor painter and Becky is a photographer, as well as the founder of the Three Rivers Artists Guild. They shared some wonderful insights about the relationship between art and place. Larry-Michael expressed how art often serves as a record of the ecology of a place, helping viewers see beauty in their community. He recounted a story of a painting he did of a bosc pear from Corey Lake Orchards, which he used for his series of greeting cards. When someone from the orchard came across his cards, she saw herself in the art, exclaiming, "Hey! I'm Corey Lake Orchard!" Later, when he displayed his cards at the orchard during the annual fall color tour, the farming patriarch of the orchard family took three bosc pears and gave them to Larry-Michael, expressing a common understanding of their beauty. The farmer saw beauty in his pears, and so did Larry-Michael--enough to create a painting of them, which then reinforced the farmer's feelings about the fruits of his labor. Like many other folks we've met with this week, Larry-Michael and Becky also wanted to hear from the students, particularly about why they chose to come to Three Rivers for spring break and how they see art being part of both Huss School and their lives in the future.

Our departure was a continuation of the day's theme as Liz, who's been working on a series this week for a photography project, took a portrait of Larry-Michael and Becky with the marsh in the background. We said our thank yous and good byes and headed back downtown to see Police, Adjective at the Riviera Theatre, which we'd just visited and toured yesterday. The film was sometimes excruciatingly slow and quiet, but intentionally so, as the story followed a Romanian police detective trailing a group of pot-smoking teen-agers. Though many first reactions were, "What the...?" our conversation afterwards and over dinner helped uncover some of the film's complexities and purpose related to themes of language and a culture negotiating its post-Communist identity.

Our evening meal was a delicious collection of Asian delights, including bi bim guk su, a spicy Thai lemongrass soup with fresh cilantro, kim chi and citron tea. In a town that has good pub food, but not much in the way of really creative cuisine, it's great to be able to call on our friend Julie to make ethnic dishes with fresh, local ingredients as part of her start-up, on-the-side catering. Just like Rob's and my experience going to college in the middle of cornfields, we're exploring how to make our own fun when someone's not providing it for us.

Matt, a local artist friend, joined us today, and Julie joined us later for the movie and dinner. J.D. Yoder and Bruce Snook also made brief appearances at the school. Oh, and let's not forget Taggy--J.D.'s curious and friendly pup, so-named for her habit of tagging along. Overall, another great day of connections, of the human, animal, culinary and idea varieties.

We've already had a very full weekend and first work day with our spring break work group! I only have a few minutes to post, so I'll just post a few photos ...

Sharing a meal with the Three Rivers Sustainable Food Group at The Hermitage:

Organizing furniture and other miscellany in the school:

For more photos, check out our photo set on Flickr.

Last year at about this time, we felt the spirit move. Kirstin and I were listening to a presentation by Bill Strickland of Manchester Craftsmen's Guild at the annual Jubilee Conference in Pittsburgh and an idea began to take shape.

Strickland shared his amazing story, from growing up in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Pittsburgh to creating a world-class community center that transforms the lives of kids and families in that same neighborhood. He spoke of bringing beauty into the inner-city and giving kids his prescription for thriving: sunlight, affection and good food.

His story isn't some pie-in-the-sky liberal do-gooding; he's driven to see kids live into their deep potential so this country can solve some of its most entrenched social problems. And he's got the statistics to show that his program is working. When almost 50% of students of color are drop out of high school, over 90% of the students in his program graduate. He has training programs teaching welfare mothers how to be gourmet chefs, horticulturalists and pharmaceutical technicians--the same women who have been told time and time again that they aren't worth anything. It's amazing what a little sunlight and attention can do for the human spirit.

A few months later, we took the leap of faith that is the Imagining Space project. We have a long way to go and our project will look a lot different than Manchester Craftsmen's Guild, but a lot of the underlying motivation is similar. We want to create a beautiful space for the people of Three Rivers and for students around North America, cultivating opportunities to transform this community and others toward abundant flourishing. With your help, I'm pretty sure we can do it ... we'll just need to be patient and keep pressing on toward the goal!

I'd highly recommend watching Strickland's lecture below. Unfortunately, the photos he's showing during the presentation didn't make it into the video; however, the story is still inspiring to hear. Just imagine what we might be able to do in Three Rivers!

One: Watch! Wait! The day of God is at hand!
All: Like the bud on a tree, God's possibilities are about to blossom!
One: Stay awake! The reign of God is very near.
All: We are here, watching and waiting with hope.
All: May God bring justice to all people. May God's reign come on earth as in heaven.

An Advent litany from Hymnal: A Worship Book (1992)

As we met with our board of directors last Friday, it felt appropriate that we were gathering and discerning in the middle of Advent--a time of waiting and expectation. The incarnation of God teaches us that anything can happen, that our longing will be satisfied in ways we could never have foreseen.

We didn't come out of our board meeting with any spectacular revelations or perfect plans. Rather, we came out of it with a much-needed sense of patience, re-committed to growing *culture is not optional together in imaginative, discerning, sustainable ways. Throughout the day, we met with local members of the Three Rivers Area Faith Community, where the vision for a youth and family center at Huss School originated. Their perspective on what the Three Rivers community needs and how our resources might meet those needs will continue to be invaluable as we cultivate relationships of love and accountability. We also toured and said words of blessing at Huss School--just the first of many blessings on the site, we expect. Since some of our board members were meeting in person for the first time, we shared abundant meals and conversation in the middle of more formal business. We look forward to gathering again as a board early in the new year.

Finances continue to be a concern until we get back on our feet with a revised plan for fundraising. Since we last updated you about our efforts with the Imagining Space project, a small Three Rivers congregation contributed over $700 in special offerings toward the project; a group of college staff members raised $800 for Huss as their collective Christmas donation; and an individual donor committed to contribute monthly toward our electric bill. We are incredibly grateful for the generosity and vision behind these gifts. God continues to provide where our efforts fall short.

As we approach the end of 2009, we would be grateful for any financial contribution you can make. $40 keeps the electricity on for one month, $360 covers insurance and $500 meets one mortgage payment. We believe that this project will always depend on the gifts of many people, contributing money, time, prayers and skills as they are able--and it will be stronger for having the investment of many, rather than just a few. Please let us know what you can offer. We would love to start 2010 with four months of expenses in the bank, which means raising $2,000 in addition to the gifts listed above before the end of the year. One-time and monthly donations can be made online. In kind gifts can be communicated by sending us a message through our contact page.

Bigger plans will be needed over time to realize the full potential of the space. In the meantime, there's nothing stopping us from beginning good work on the site. In January, we will host our first out-of-town group at the school. However, this group won't be scrubbing floors and painting walls; they'll be filming! We're glad that a film class from Calvin College will have the opportunity to use the building in its current somewhat-spooky state as a unique film set while they learn practical writing, acting and production skills. We're also looking forward to revealing more to all of you visually in the form of a promotional video the group will make as part of their exchange for using the space.

In March, we'll host our first work group, as several Calvin College students will use their spring break to serve and learn in Three Rivers. The board is already imagining ways to draw more of you into the work and creativity of that week, so watch for more details.

Thank you for your attentiveness to the Imagining Space project throughout 2009. Just one year ago, we never would have anticipated that *cino would have such abundant building and land space as a canvas on which to paint a bold, colorful, interactive Kingdom-oriented vision. Thank God for graciously setting aside this time of year for us to delve into the goodness of hope, of giddy excitement, of earth-shaking surprises.

Even in the midst of great pain, Lord,
I praise you for that which is.
I will not refuse this grief
Or close myself to this anguish.
Let shallow men pray for ease:
"Comfort us; shield us from sorrow."
I pray for whatever you send me,
and I ask to receive it as your gift.
You have put a joy in my heart
greater than all the world's riches.
I lie down trusting the darkness,
for I know that even now you are here.

Psalm 4, adapted from the Hebrew by Stephen Mitchell

Psalm 4 has been something of a mantra for us lately, which may help illuminate, in poetic terms, our sudden silence on the Imagining Space project. Some explanation is certainly in order, so here's a brief overview of the past six months in the lives of Rob and Kirstin Vander Giessen-Reitsma, sole (unpaid) staff members of *culture is not optional.

Beginning in May and with the help of our board of directors, we raised $25,000 in forty days as a down payment to purchase Huss School, an historic building in Three Rivers, Michigan--22,000 square feet of classrooms, office space and a gymnasium on four acres of land for $75,000. It was a huge leap of faith for this small organization and $25,000 was just the beginning. But the vision was magnetizing: an off-campus program for college students, community development in a struggling Midwestern town, an opportunity to embody the everyday Kingdom faithfulness we profess to in catapult, in the road journal, in Practicing Resurrection conferences, in our fiction and non-fiction books. Over 150 donors contributed and the door opened onto a world of possibilities.

In June, we closed on the school purchase just days before embarking on a two-week speaking tour about faith and food. The tour, which took us from our home in Michigan through five states, was a wonderful opportunity to connect with old and new friends on a topic dear to our hearts (and stomachs, of course). At the far western reaches of our route, however, we saw clouds gathering on the horizon. When the storm finally hit, we realized that circumstance would require us to move out of our house in Grand Rapids quite unexpectedly. We were faced with a choice: move somewhere temporary in Grand Rapids for another year, or complete a renovation nine months ahead of schedule on an apartment 80 miles south in Three Rivers to establish a more permanent home closer to Huss School. Given the miraculous developments with the school in the spring, we decided that, even though we planned to continue our work at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, we were being drawn back toward Three Rivers.

Most of July and August passed in a blur of sixteen-hour days. With the help of many friends and family members, we tiled and painted and scrubbed and sanded and varnished and packed. Renovation projects typically fall behind schedule and this one was no exception. After we moved out of our house on August 22, we rested our heads in temporary beds for about six weeks between Grand Rapids and Three Rivers until we could finally move into our apartment--with functional plumbing and legal permission.

In the midst of adjusting to a commute and exhausting physical labor, another unexpected trial commenced. Just after Labor Day weekend, personal possessions started disappearing from our storage space in the basement of the building where our apartment is located. Not until October, when about $6,000 in property had disappeared over the course of several incidents, were we able to narrow the possible suspects down to one person--someone we'd liked, trusted, helped and accepted help from, who had key access all along. In the end, we were only able to recover about a quarter of what was lost through insurance, but we also experienced a loss of trust and security. Even when we were too blind with anger, sadness and helplessness to see the way forward, a group of friends graciously helped guide us to the best resolution possible--one that reflects our values of justice and mercy and did not involve prosecution.

Now, in November, we have fallen behind on our *cino work and continue to wrestle with difficult questions. Why would God provide for our initial fundraising efforts for the school with such breathtaking abundance, only to watch us lose momentum as we struggled to keep our heads above water through an unexpected move and the heartbreak of broken trust? Why would we be able to meet our first financial goal on schedule only to have the whole thing unravel in the next few months when the needs are still so great? What are we supposed to be learning here? Has this hardship been a test along the right path or a caution along the wrong one? Time may or may not clarify the answers, but we plan to proceed, in faith, with the ambitious vision of the Imagining Space campaign.

Throughout everything that's occurred over the past six months--from the purchase of the school to the food tour to the renovation to the thefts--we have been clearly affirmed in one belief: we need community. In our worst times, when we felt the least equipped to face the challenges before us, the community of people around us has answered to such various needs as grunt work, lunch, critical advice and timely encouragement. In the best times, community has cohered around a beautiful, ridiculous vision for life in the Kingdom, responding with everything from ideas to connections to money. Six months of great need have also been six months of great abundance, as we've learned to "praise [God] for that which is" and "lie down trusting the darkness."

The board of *culture is not optional will be meeting in December to assess where we are as an organization, pray over future projects for wisdom and discernment and plan for the coming months and years. In the meantime, we still need all of you. Please join us in prayer. Please also consider making a contribution yet in 2009 toward expenses for the school building. We've all been captivated by the amazing vision for what could be at the old Huss School, but there will be many months of mortgage payments and electric bills to slog through while we work to gather resources for the costly transformation the space will require. Our most immediate need is for help financing the basic monthly expenses, which include the loan payment of $500, the insurance payment of $360 and the basic electric bill, which is usually around $40. We think you'll agree that such slogging is best undertaken in good company, so please join us with whatever resources you have to offer.

We sincerely apologize for the loss of momentum and communication that occurred on the Imagining Space project while our lives took unexpected hairpin turns this summer and fall. Like the tall Michigan oaks that have lost all of their leaves, we look forward to re-emerging anew and flourishing for yet another season...but we can't do it without you. Thank you, in advance, for taking the time to consider how you can best contribute to the needs of *culture is not optional on the brink of 2010.

Grace and peace,
Rob & Kirstin Vander Giessen-Reitsma

Closing on Huss School and holding the actual keys in our hands opens up a world of possibilities. We, along with *cino and Three Rivers friends, are eager to get to work on everything from the nitty gritty details of cleaning to recruiting students for service and study. However...

We've attempted to put all of the ingredients together just right for this project and now we need to let things rest for a bit. It will be quite like the process of making bread from scratch, which begins with a lot of doing--gathering, measuring, proofing, mixing, kneading. And then, after that initial frenzy of work, you place the dough in a bowl, cover it, put it in a warm place and let it rest. Rising requires proper preparation and is necessary for a successful finished product.

The next few weeks will be a time of resting and rising for the Imagining Space project. Though it may not look like we're doing much, there will be plenty going on beyond our efforts. Rising is a process that can't be rushed as the micro-organisms--our dreams and ideas--begin to bond in new ways to become something that is both beautiful and nourishing.

Please say a prayer for this process, that we'll have eyes to see the possibilities that emerge from this time of rising and that we'll be re-energized and refreshed for all of the tasks that lie ahead of us in July and beyond.

Bruce Snook did an e-mail interview with me yesterday and posted an article about the closing on the River Country Journal blog--check it out!

Elena Hines, managing editor at the Three Rivers Commercial News, was on hand at the closing on Friday to take photos and do interview for a story that appeared on yesterday's front page. Thanks, Elena!