Colleagues
25/05/14 05:17
The word college didn’t always refer to an educational institution. In ancient Rome a collegium was any group of people that had legal recognition. There were collegium of social clubs, political groups, professions, even burial societies. Over the centuries, however, collegium took on roles of training and educating members. The English word college began to refer to an educational institution. Early colleges were residential places of learning. The process of going to college was both an educational and a social adventure. People were taught not only how to learn together, but how to live together.
By the time we graduated from college and went to graduate school, the words had taken on new meanings. College was used to refer specifically to a degree-granting tertiary educational institution. A university was a collection of several colleges, and a collegium was an intentional community formed within a college for the purpose of living and learning together.
Christians and members of other religions have long formed intentional communities for practicing faith together. Often these are called monasteries. They are places where faith is lived and the practices of faith are intentionally built into the routines and schedules of life together.
In seminary, we sought to form a different kind of Christian community. We didn’t want to live lives isolated by gender or age and sought a community that included families with children. After a year of practicing our faith and learning together in separate apartments, the opportunity came to rent a house together with two other families. We didn’t have children at that time, but the other families did. We would share the kitchen and living spaces, have a dedicated room for study and private areas for family members. It was our dream to be colleagues - people who not only learned together, but who lived together in community and practiced our faith together. Each meal would include prayer and be a time of communion. Sharing chores and working together would offer opportunities to grow in faith.
It was a wonderful time in our lives. We grew close to our colleagues. We pushed and challenged each other in our learning. One of my roles was as baker for the house. Each Saturday morning I would bake a week’s worth of bread for nine people plus our guests. I would braid whole wheat and white doughs together to form special loaves for communion.
And now it has been nearly 40 years since we shared that particular adventure in community. We have lived apart for decades. Four of the members of our collegium - a student, a spouse and their two children - returned to their native Australia to serve the church there.
The bonds of Christian community are deep. We have remained close even though years have passed and distances have been great, we have lived as colleagues ever since. On the rare occasions when we were able to be together in the same place our conversations began as if we had never been apart. Through letters and occasional phone calls and other means we communicated the important events of our lives. We knew that we would always be there for each other.
The last time we were together in the same place as families was in 2006 when we traveled to Australia. By then our children were adults, but they were able to travel with us. Their children lived nearby and we were able to get together. It was as if we had never been apart. It was as if we belong together.
We have been anticipating with great joy the visit of the parents of our Australian family scheduled for August of this year. It will be their second visit to our South Dakota home. We were hosting them as we moved to South Dakota and they shared the miles of driving and the unpacking of boxes in our new home. There aren’t many friends who would do as much. There aren’t many people we would invite into the midst of the disruption of moving. This summer will be different.
Then, yesterday, which was the day before yesterday in our time zone, our beloved Leanne died. The daughter of our Australian family had suffered many different illnesses over the years. Two years ago a stroke left her teetering on the edge of life and death for a long time. But her recovery was miraculous. In may ways she had been freed from some of the pain and other health challenges she had endured over the years. The bright sparkle in her eyes returned. We felt so blessed. The power of the international community of prayer was evident.
But we do not control the timing of our lives. And this time, recovery was not to be. She had the best of medical care and the most compassionate of doctors and nurses. Her Australian family gathered and shared communion at her bedside. The final moments were peaceful and calm. A sort of shock entered the lives of the witnesses and shortly thereafter the lives of those of us who were keeping vigil from a long distance. It still seems a bit unreal. We have to keep reminding ourselves that this has really happened. The next day, Sunday, in the late morning, which was Saturday evening here in the states, we got together on the telephone to share a few stories and a few tears and to be reminded once again that our colleagues are very real and somehow coping with this new tragedy in their lives. There are some things that e-mail cannot convey. Sometimes you need to hear a voice.
Over and over again I have had to learn the simple truth that community is not about place. God’s love transcends the distances that we experience. We are every bit as connected and sometimes more close than when we shared the same house in Chicago.
Then it should not surprise us to realize that Leanne isn’t lost at all. The distance between this life and what is to follow seems like a barrier only from this side of the divide. Love is stronger than death. We have already been taught that love can span continents and oceans and physical distances.
Years ago, in Chicago, we used to sing a table grace: “For these and all your blessings, we give you thanks O Lord; for people who have come by us to be so adored; for food and friends and family - the ones who’re gathered here; for these and all your blessings, we thank you Lord so dear.”
Gratitude is still an appropriate response.
By the time we graduated from college and went to graduate school, the words had taken on new meanings. College was used to refer specifically to a degree-granting tertiary educational institution. A university was a collection of several colleges, and a collegium was an intentional community formed within a college for the purpose of living and learning together.
Christians and members of other religions have long formed intentional communities for practicing faith together. Often these are called monasteries. They are places where faith is lived and the practices of faith are intentionally built into the routines and schedules of life together.
In seminary, we sought to form a different kind of Christian community. We didn’t want to live lives isolated by gender or age and sought a community that included families with children. After a year of practicing our faith and learning together in separate apartments, the opportunity came to rent a house together with two other families. We didn’t have children at that time, but the other families did. We would share the kitchen and living spaces, have a dedicated room for study and private areas for family members. It was our dream to be colleagues - people who not only learned together, but who lived together in community and practiced our faith together. Each meal would include prayer and be a time of communion. Sharing chores and working together would offer opportunities to grow in faith.
It was a wonderful time in our lives. We grew close to our colleagues. We pushed and challenged each other in our learning. One of my roles was as baker for the house. Each Saturday morning I would bake a week’s worth of bread for nine people plus our guests. I would braid whole wheat and white doughs together to form special loaves for communion.
And now it has been nearly 40 years since we shared that particular adventure in community. We have lived apart for decades. Four of the members of our collegium - a student, a spouse and their two children - returned to their native Australia to serve the church there.
The bonds of Christian community are deep. We have remained close even though years have passed and distances have been great, we have lived as colleagues ever since. On the rare occasions when we were able to be together in the same place our conversations began as if we had never been apart. Through letters and occasional phone calls and other means we communicated the important events of our lives. We knew that we would always be there for each other.
The last time we were together in the same place as families was in 2006 when we traveled to Australia. By then our children were adults, but they were able to travel with us. Their children lived nearby and we were able to get together. It was as if we had never been apart. It was as if we belong together.
We have been anticipating with great joy the visit of the parents of our Australian family scheduled for August of this year. It will be their second visit to our South Dakota home. We were hosting them as we moved to South Dakota and they shared the miles of driving and the unpacking of boxes in our new home. There aren’t many friends who would do as much. There aren’t many people we would invite into the midst of the disruption of moving. This summer will be different.
Then, yesterday, which was the day before yesterday in our time zone, our beloved Leanne died. The daughter of our Australian family had suffered many different illnesses over the years. Two years ago a stroke left her teetering on the edge of life and death for a long time. But her recovery was miraculous. In may ways she had been freed from some of the pain and other health challenges she had endured over the years. The bright sparkle in her eyes returned. We felt so blessed. The power of the international community of prayer was evident.
But we do not control the timing of our lives. And this time, recovery was not to be. She had the best of medical care and the most compassionate of doctors and nurses. Her Australian family gathered and shared communion at her bedside. The final moments were peaceful and calm. A sort of shock entered the lives of the witnesses and shortly thereafter the lives of those of us who were keeping vigil from a long distance. It still seems a bit unreal. We have to keep reminding ourselves that this has really happened. The next day, Sunday, in the late morning, which was Saturday evening here in the states, we got together on the telephone to share a few stories and a few tears and to be reminded once again that our colleagues are very real and somehow coping with this new tragedy in their lives. There are some things that e-mail cannot convey. Sometimes you need to hear a voice.
Over and over again I have had to learn the simple truth that community is not about place. God’s love transcends the distances that we experience. We are every bit as connected and sometimes more close than when we shared the same house in Chicago.
Then it should not surprise us to realize that Leanne isn’t lost at all. The distance between this life and what is to follow seems like a barrier only from this side of the divide. Love is stronger than death. We have already been taught that love can span continents and oceans and physical distances.
Years ago, in Chicago, we used to sing a table grace: “For these and all your blessings, we give you thanks O Lord; for people who have come by us to be so adored; for food and friends and family - the ones who’re gathered here; for these and all your blessings, we thank you Lord so dear.”
Gratitude is still an appropriate response.