The 6 P’s of Uptown Bethesda
(adapted from Untamed by Deb and Alan Hirsch and influenced by my experiences)

Presence:
Being Present in any relationship is difficult.  Presence is possibly one of the key practices most ministers flake out on.  It is easy to “do” ministry – but Presence requires you to “be”.  Deb and Alan talk about Presence as really getting to know the people you are living amongst – their practices, culture, history etc.  I would like to suggest a further degree that no doubt has been shaped by Henri Nouwen’s writings.

Choosing to be Present in your community means choosing to keep from putting up walls.  Presence  demands vulnerability and authenticity.  You cannot truly connect with a mentally altered individual who has been the victim of sexual abuse since they could walk without choosing to be Present.  The healing power of Jesus in engaged when we choose to be Present in the very sufferings of those we are living with – refusing to keep our “pastoral” composure; rather weeping with or standing firm in loving truth when lies are exploding in every sentence a person is speaking.

I like to think of Presence as keeping our eyes fully open in our relationships; refusing to break eye contact, no matter how painful and horrendous it gets.

It is difficult to explain the practical application of Presence in Uptown.  I wonder if I struggle because it isn’t really something we do – but something we choose to be.  Regardless, there are ways to push ourselves into opportunities to choose to be present.  And, as Deb and Alan suggest – getting to know your community is it.  I cannot tell you how many stories of child abuse I have heard from adult men and women suffering from mental illness.  Receiving these stories in the moment is choosing Presence.  Staying by Gidget’s side as she curses God in the middle of a church service because of the loss of those she loved and the abuse she experienced through her life – is choosing to be Present.

Warning – Presence results in the sharing of pain.  Praise God.

Powerlessness:
I still do not have a clear understanding of how much power I have as a single, white, master degree holding ,American woman.  But moving to Uptown has helped me see it a little more.  I have no concern that the cops would ever consider questioning me for any of the many crimes that take place in my neighborhood, so I freely walk the streets and investigate crime scenes once the cops are on site.  I even think my personality and communication skills give me considerable power in this community.

Powerlessness is choosing to give up that power for the sake of the community.  I love how Deb and Alan say it; “The great challenge for us is to recognize that to be weak, needy, and even powerless is part of the human condition, not something to be abhorred.  When we give up our sense of power and control, we can truly become human in a way that conforms to the image of Christ.”  The reality is, all the power we feel and experience is fragile if not fabricated for our own mental well being.  The beauty of choosing powerlessness is that we can identify with those who have not made the choice but were born, raise or thrust into positions of powerlessness.  By submitting ourselves, we are able to bring the Gospel in such a pure way.  Why do I say pure?

Philipians 2:5-8 explains it.
5Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:  
6Who, being in very nature[a] God,       did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,  
7but made himself nothing,       taking the very nature[b] of a servant,       being made in human likeness.  
8And being found in appearance as a man,       he humbled himself       and became obedient to death—          even death on a cross!

Powerlessness is the decision Jesus made by becoming human, and it is necessary for us to live lives and incarnation ministers in our communities.

I have much to learn about what it means to give up power in Uptown, but one experience I have had has made me realize that I like my power a lot more than I thought.  The first time I stood in line for a meal at a soup kitchen, I was overwhelmed with shame.  It was like the Jr. High lunch room, only a whole lot worse.  I did not need to be there.  I had “good food” at home that I much preferred to this free stuff.  The men in front of me and behind me were strangers, and this didn’t seem like the place to start a new friendship, not to mention dozens of eyes were looking at me, some knowing who I was others wondering how exactly I found myself in this line with them.  It was humiliating.  But that plate of food that I received allowed me to sit at a table with some of the most wonderful men and women in our country.  That is why, week after week, I eat meals in these soup kitchens.  Sitting at the dinner table is always an experience in community, and by making a choice to pull up a chair, I am attempting to awaken some identity back to the powerless of Uptown.