breathing oxygen into the mortar of society

There is something about ivy crawling up a brick wall that captures my eye. Green ivy seems to be the m.s.g. of the brick building world, I am intrinsically drawn to any brick structure that has ivy growing up it. That is just how it is. I especially love it when the brick building is older, when the years have had their way with the mortar between the bricks and the concrete that has served as an age old structural device begins to devolve back into its original organic state. What draws me to these buildings is the life that the ivy contains. This green plant so abundant with life and vitality attaches itself to a creation that could not be more lifeless and sinks its roots into the mortar as if breathing oxygen directly into the guts of the operation. Ivy then expedites the degradation of the wall forcing it to gradually devolve to its organic state.The idea of this is alluring to me - this breaking down of inanimate concrete with spurts of oxygen giving life. The part however that draws me to the image of all of this is the distinct joining of the two. The ivy cannot transform the wall without laying roots in the concrete. Without the ivy, the brick will continue, as will the ivy without the brick. It is however, when the two come together that the ivy begins to breath life into death and begins to transform this brick wall into its original organic state.

In John 1 there is this absolutely beautiful description of the incarnation of Christ. John, with the utmost of eloquence, carefully outlines everything that Christ is in an indisputable way.

“ 1:1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life, [1] and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. 8 He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.
9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to his own, [2] and his own people [3] did not receive him. 12 But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.
14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

How beautiful is that? In Eugene Peterson’s “the message” he translates verse 14 saying “the word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.” This Jesus who is fully God and has been since the beginning, steps down off of his thrown above, becomes flesh, and moves into the neighborhood. Jesus chose to lay roots in the bricks of this messy world and breathed his breath of life into mortar of our society.
Jesus Christ’s life, death, and resurrection sets the tone for our ministry as Christ followers. Christ came became fully human, and yet remained fully God. Christ then left this world with a charge to his followers to continue his ministry. He gave us a perfect example of incarnational ministry and instructs us to follow.

Lately I’ve been walking the streets of my neighborhood a lot. Living in North Minneapolis has taught me so much about life. The real kind of life with pain, addictions, and trials. This analogy that I’ve been drawing leaps to life when walking these streets.

It comes to life because amidst all this pain, addiction and difficulty, I see the breath of a living God. I see this breath embodied by my neighbors who are making a way through some of this mess and reaching for a way out. I see it through the countless individuals who have given up the temptation and comfort of suburban living to sink roots here in the city and be a good neighbor. I see it through the numerous youth programs that seem to be popping up everywhere offering hope for children and a way out of this vicious cycle of poverty. This is the kind of breath that Jesus was about, this breath of hope over disparity, relationship over corporation, life over death. This kind of breath is irresistible, it calls to me, it makes me question what kind of breath I am breathing - makes me want to take root. It compels me to want to get outside of myself, sink root into the mortar of this society and breath the very breath of life that Christ mandated that we breath into our world.