I had a minor epiphany the other day. Well, really, it was one of those things I already knew in various forms, but it struck me afresh in a particular way this time (second minor epiphany: We humans are pretty forgetful. We need to be re-reminded all the time.)

During our Tuesday time of prayer and Learning Community, all InnerCHANGE teams are discussing and meditating on our commitment to simplicity right now (one of the seven commitments we make when we join the order).

And it hit me:

Simplicity is better in community.

One person living simply can come off as an eccentric hermit.

A community of people living simply is prophetic.

It makes more economic sense to live simply together (feed more people, share more housing space, spend less money.)

It makes more ecological sense to live simply together (share cars and utilities and gardening space.)

Community gives you built in accountability and encouragement and people to brainstorm with.

I first learnt this lesson in a very hands-on way when I lived for a season at Reba Place Fellowship, an intentional Christian community. Following the model of the early church in the second chapter of Acts, they share their cars, money, housing, the works—and they’ve been doing it for over fifty years. I was there as an intern to learn how in the world they do it; I think they would say community comes first, and choosing to live simply together makes sense because it serves the needs of the community.

However, even if you don’t share housing with other people, as my Sociology 101 professor said at Wheaton, “Everyone living on your block doesn’t actually need to own their own lawnmower…”

Community is, not coincidentally, also one of our seven commitments along with simplicity. Might be there for a reason….

Another shot from our trip to Barcelona awhile back. Liz can dance just about anywhere.

The Shrine at the Friars, surrounded by four beautiful chapels.

We make space for regular retreats in InnerCHANGE, both individually and as a team. A few days ago, our team headed out of the city to the countryside, retreating from the bustle of London to the tiny village of Aylesford.

As we approached the Aylesford Priory, we saw a sign that informed us the Carmelite Friars had been here since 1242 A.D. Surrounded by the tranquility of open space and old stone buildings, it wasn’t hard to imagine that people had prayed here for hundreds of years.

Our team joined in that tradition, soaking up the calmness of the space, and simply enjoyed being together. We wandered the grounds, wondered at the art, fed the ducks at the pond, journaled, worshipped, ate together. We spent time talking about the different ways we each individually best connected to God, and then encouraged each other to go and do it.

Our team leader, Deanna, pointed out, “We could have come out here this weekend to plan and to strategize, and filled our time with that. But we didn’t. Instead, this weekend has been about making space to be with God.”

The planning and strategizing certainly need to be done. But this weekend, I’m glad we took the time to simply be.

Sunday morning worship and communion in the Cloister Chapel.

This weekend, our whole team is headed out of the city for a retreat. It will probably be wet.

No, this is not where we’re going on retreat—this is a hermitage at Montserrat, in Spain. We’re going somewhere in Kent, which is just about as cool.

As most of you know, the Olympics are coming to town this summer! It has the potential to be a good thing for London, and in the future may provide many jobs and homes for people here in the East End.

But for now, and during the event, it’s mostly a headache for folks. In Tower Hamlets, we’re right next to the Olympics, but aren’t actually hosting anything. Instead, our public transport will be overwhelmed, housing prices are skyrocketing, and some of our major roads will be unavailable because they are being shut down for Olympic VIP’s and the like.

Still, such issues are the sort of thing that can really bring a community together. For instance, several local churches and mosques have started working together to identify people’s concerns over these issues, and to figure out how the people in the community can support each other despite the difficulties that will arise in getting to and from work, providing resources for businesses and charities, caring for the elderly and sick, and so on.

Here’s a quick video from their website detailing a few of their concerns:

I love it when neighbours work together.

Hope you all had a lovely Resurrection Day!  Ours was a bit wet and rainy, but relaxing overall.

Remember that “I Heart Shadwell” banner from a couple weeks ago?  Well, last Saturday Shadwell had it’s Fun Day, and it was a great success!

In addition to making an excellent couple of banners (which survived the crazy wind for the majority of the event), Liz designed and printed 2000 stickers and 1000 balloons, all saying “I Heart Shadwell”.  And she organized a big community art project where people could write notes about things they liked, disliked, and dreamed for in Shadwell.

Meanwhile, I was busy shooting free family portraits for anyone who came by.  I think we had around 75 families and groups by the end of the day.  TELCO, another community organization, is taking care of distribution for us.

In addition to our stuff, people were offering free food, balloons, henna and face painting, tea and coffee, a community space for older folk, coloring for kids, a bouncy castle, and probably more.  All told, we probably had over a thousand people come through for the event.  I think it was a pretty good day.

This week, we’ve been busy getting ready for a Fun Day that several organizations are hosting in the market Satuday morning.

Liz took on the assignment of making some large banners for the event. She and a friend started painting them outside, and it quickly turned into a community event. This sort of thing is a great way to get people outside!

“I used to live right up there,” he said, pointing right above us at the terraced balconies above the market. “Just up there. Born and raised in the East End. Grew up here, twenty years. I remember when that pub opened. Went away on holiday and when I came back there it was. Oh, it was heaving,” he said, pointing past a few stalls to the pub at the end of the market.

We’d stopped at the flower man’s stall to get some daffodils to brighten up our new flat—”Only 70p a bunch, love. Three for two quid!” And as we chatted with the flower man, his nostalgia came out to an attentive audience. It was clear he’d loved growing up in the East End, a proper Cockney at heart.

“But now, I live in Lincolnshire. Drive in for the markets just on the weekends. Traffic is terrible. Why, it took me two hours just to…”

“Do you like it better in the countryside?” I asked, diverting the inevitable English complaint about the state of the motorways.

“Less noise. Less fuss. It’s sure quieter!” he said. “Things have just changed so much around here. It’s not the place I grew up in anymore. Everything’s different—it wasn’t the same to stay here, you know.”

We agreed; things certainly have changed in the East End in the past forty years. It’s full of stories like this, of change and history, of the way things are and the way things used to be.

We paid for two bunches of daffodils and said we’d enjoyed chatting with him. “Alright, love. See you soon—I’m here every Friday!” he called out as we walked home.

A little bit of graffiti that Liz and I came across while walking to church last weekend.

Stepney is the neighbourhood directly north of Shadwell, where we live. Escape is a common desire in both areas.

Liz then corrected the graffiti to say “LOVE STEPNEY” instead. She is such a vandal.

I’ll be honest—there has always been something about IKEA that scared me a little bit.  This monster of flatpack furniture, a Disneyland of home furnishings… it’s big.  And overwhelming.  And simultaneously is full of wonderful decorating ideas while reminding us again and again that we’ll never afford such nice homes as their showrooms try to exemplify.

But, there were a couple items of furniture, like bookshelves, we couldn’t find in the neighbourhood… so off to IKEA we went!

Something I do love, however, is friendly church people who are happy to use their van for the good of the community, taking poor car-less souls like us to IKEA and bringing other friends along to make a trip of it.  This openness to sharing life and resources in the church is both a little taste of home in Chicago, and a wonderful encouragement that this is a good church for us to be at.