“Hospitality means primarily the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy. Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place.”

May we each be more intentional about creating these types of spaces.

In my experience, living life with time & space built in to be sure of success or safety isn’t easy.  I often have my day scheduled from the time I wake up to the time I return to my bed.  It starts with getting my kids ready for school, then taking them to school, then getting ready myself, the to a workday often overly optimistic of what I can actually accomplish, then to pick up kids from school, then home to think about dinner, household chores, and soon after getting the kids ready for bedtime. Only after my beautiful and wonderfully active children are sound asleep do I discover a few moments of silence and empty space.  But then I have a marriage to nurture and my wife and I often fill this potential margin talking about our day, discussing the needs of the coming day, or numbing our brains with a television show or movie.  And while these moments of my day are some of the most treasured, they nevertheless occupy some of the very limited hours that I am awake.

It seems to me that what’s true of this time with my wife is true of much of what gets on my schedule; the things that occupy my time are usually really good things. I just have far too many good things on my schedule. It’s easy for me to say “no” to something that clearly wastes time or is meaningless, but it’s incredibly hard for me to say “no” to something that benefits a friend, cares for a neighbor, helps create something that otherwise wouldn’t be, etc.  This is my dilemma;  there are far too many “good things” to involve myself in.

But filling my day with too many good things is an enemy of margin in my day.  I need time to just be.  Time that has no demands or expectations placed on it.  Space in my day where I can act spontaneously or give time to the unplanned visit of a neighbor.  Time in which I can remember both who I am and who I’ve committed to be.  Time to interact with my Creator. Time to meditate and reflect on the ways of the One in which I’ve given my life to.

My understanding of Christian faith demands that I give my life to others. The legacy I wish to leave when my days are done is one of availability, of compassion, of care & concern, and, ultimately, one of love.  The practice of these characteristics demand time and are often the “good things” that steal margin from me.  But I must realize that when it comes to giving myself away to others, to ensure I have something to give I must care for and nurture my own health.  In other words, I can give of myself at the expense of margin for a while, but it will catch up to me at some point if I don’t have time and space to reflect, to remember, to be, to pray, to think, and to love.  If I want to give of myself for a lifetime, then I must say learn to say “no” to some “good things” in order to protect the very thing I need to remain healthy, present, and available; margin.

A theme that has been rattling between my head and my heart lately (and one that we are exploring with communitasPHX) is the phrase,”in living, we have ceased to be alive”.   For me, I am most guilty of allowing “living” to steal my “life” when I allow too many good things to pencil out margin in my life.  I must learn to say “no” and shed the messiah complex that haunts this part of me.  God doesn’t need me to meet every need around me.  He wants to meet needs WHILE remaining healthy and available to meet future needs.

I need margin. I need to laugh, to notice, to feel, to appreciate, to love, to smile, to ponder, to dream, to commune, and to…..just be.  And I am convinced that you need these things too.  So for those of us living in the busyness of the city, being pulled in a thousand directions at once, let’s commit to live lives that contain more margin than the world around us is comfortable with.  They may call us lazy, immature, or selfish.  But we know otherwise.  Having regular space in which we can be ourselves and drink in the world around us is the perhaps the most important thing we can put on our schedule.

There is something special about the city.  Urban space has a life and mind of it’s own.  It’s culture, rhythms, colors, smells, and aesthetic proclaim it’s uniqueness.  While most suburban towns struggle to understand their identity, the city thrives in knowing it’s role.  There is a certain soul to the city that breathes life into those of us who choose to call urban spaces home.

At times, this “soul” of the city restores life.  The movement of commuters to and from work, the mixture of art and poverty, & the rhythms of rush hour & nightlife somehow say something deep about the way life is.  We are somehow refreshed by the simultaneous chaos & beauty of urban life.

At other times, it is these very movements of the city that steal life as we find ourselves pushed thoughtlessly through the paces of life and work.  We are no longer present to the beauty and to the people that make life in the city so meaningful.  We move about as if our souls have been stolen from us.

For me, I most find life in the people of the city and their diversity.  I love the thought of very different people form very different backgrounds living life side-by-side, learning from one another whether they realize it or not. It’s as if God is most present in the interactions of people who by cultural expectations should not talk to each other, let alone like each other.  Life is most stolen from me in the rush and pace of urban life.  As I become convinced that I can and should accomplish more, I cease to be aware of what’s REALLY going on around me – where God is most present, where He is at work, how His heart is breaking.

The hope of a project like the Open Abbey is to create exposure to the unique challenges of life in the city, while also giving attention to the various ways in which city-dwellers throughout the country thrive in the urban environment.  To accomplish this, it’s important that we establish a culture of shared learning and collaboration at the Open Abbey.

So… in this spirit, what are the most life-giving and the most life-stealing parts about the city for you?  Please share in the comments below and thanks for participating in the Open Abbey.

American life is busy, noisy, confusing, and chaotic. Whether we realize it or not, this frantic pace has a cost. If we’re not careful, we can easily give up our souls in the pursuit of what we’re told is important.

Are we truly successful if we accomplish something great in our careers, yet lose ourselves in the process? What is important in our lives? By what do we measure success? Is it even possible to balance the demands of work, life, family, community, & spirituality?

Most of us can’t even find the margin in our lives to ponder these questions and their answers. Life is simply too overwhelming. In living, we have ceased to be alive.

The Open Abbey is an invitation to live differently. It’s an invitation to live as whole people, free from the defeating expectations and shallow hopes of the world around us. It’s an invitation to dream about a way of life that is beautifully and radically different. It is a space in which both ideas and concerns can be shared, both successes and failures can be recorded, and both resources and support can be offered.