The Early Shoots of the Vine & Fig Tree

Four years ago, I sat in my little house in Atlanta and made a call to Will O’Brien and Dee Dee Risher. They were two of four people I knew at the time in Philadelphia, where my wife, Katie, as well as Katie’s sister, Christa, and brother-in- law, Timothy, and their three daughters were preparing to make our new home. We had been talking for over a year with Christa and Timothy who were living in Greece about landing in the same place and creating some kind of shared life together. Katie had been called as pastor to Tabernacle United Church in Philly, and so our destination was set.

So after thirteen years for me and seven for Katie in Atlanta, we were moving to a new city and searching for connection. Will and Dee Dee had been good friends of the Open Door for many years, beginning from the time they were co-editors of The Other Side magazine. They had led a retreat for Open Door when I was a baby resident volunteer about a decade prior. Would they even remember me? I took a deep breath and dialed the number. Katie and I had plans to visit Philly the following weekend to look for housing and visit the church where Katie would be pastoring. “We’d love to see you!” Will said as if we were long lost friends. “Oh and by the way,” he went on to mention, “we live in a small rental house in the back of a large property. There’s a big house with several apartments in front and a huge yard. We have dreamed of buying the whole property and creating a residential community here. It’s not for sale, and it might not ever be. But if we ever get there, maybe you would consider being a part of this.”

It sounded like a pipe dream at that point. I remember thinking Will had only met me once and never met Katie, not to mention the rest of our family who were all about to descend upon Philly. Yet here he was inviting us to be a part of this as yet non-existent intentional community. What kind of a fool was he?

Four years later, I sit writing this article from my little apartment at the Vine & Fig Tree Community in the Germantown neighborhood of Philadelphia. Will and Dee Dee purchased the property a little over two years ago. We have spent much of that time cleaning out and renovating the main house which is an ongoing process. The house was bought “as is” which included tons of treasures and trash left behind by the previous owners. Will and Dee Dee and their two children continue to live in the carriage house in the back of the property. Now there are five households in the community, both single and families. We have a quarter acre yard in between the two houses where we maintain a large garden of 15 beds and five chickens. We are in the process of renovating an efficiency apartment to serve as a “Christ room” for guests in need of a safe and hospitable home for a short time.

We have developed six core commitments to define and guide our life together:

 Support each other in our commitments to Christian discipleship, and in each

other’s well-being, vocation, and ability to do life-giving, creative work. We will

practice common prayer, mutual accountability and aid.

 Live simply and in closer relationship to the earth in an effort to reduce

consumption and to care for creation. This will include economic sharing,

stewardship of the land, and growing our own food.

 Engage in conscious work to resist the dominant culture of individualism and

greed, including overcoming our own addictions to militarism, racism, and other

“isms.”

 Use our communal resources to provide hospitality to persons in need or in

transition.

 Make our community, including our house and property, an occasional gathering

place for the broader community for events of prayer and reflection, celebration

and creativity.

 Foster an appreciation of beauty and a spirit of joy and celebration as part of our community life and public witness.

Some of these commitments we have begun to live out: our weekly practice of communal prayer and dinner together to nurture our faith life and care for one another, cultivation of this little piece of land that we have been gifted, and the use of our home as a frequent gathering spot for study, reflection, and music-making. And some of these commitments still serve as calls and challenges to us. How do we live more fully into the work of resisting racism and militarism – particularly as a white household in a predominantly African-American neighborhood? What does the practice of hospitality look like given our gifts of space and resources, and our limitations of time and energy due to full or part-time jobs and family?

In the early stages of our shared life, we are still discerning and muddling through those questions together, thanks be to God. I know that I could not see my way through to make even one of the above commitments on my own. As my fellow community member, Dee Dee, wrote in her recently published book, The Soulmaking Room, “Apart from connection to a like-minded community, making different choices about neighborhoods, schools, marriage roles, parenting, jobs, salaries, and consumption can be terribly isolating. Without others accompanying us, our good intention to build a world on alternative values is doomed.” Even with community, these small and big choices are not easy, but I am thankful for the creativity and support of this community which make an alternative life feel possible for me.

I tell the story of that first phone call with Will, because I think it reflects the first steps necessary for seeking any alternative to the mainstream culture of individualism, consumerism, and violence that we are swimming in. As I look back, I realize these are also steps that I watched and learned from at the Open Door over the years.

First comes imagination. We have to have the capacity to envision a world beyond what is right in front of our eyes. We have to be a dreamers, fools even. Dorothy Day said, “We are fools for Christ and wish we were more so!” It is part of the call of our faith, to join in God’s dream of abundant life and radical love. To envision an overgrown lot and a rundown house in an urban neighborhood as a thriving garden and a home full of beauty and welcome.

But if we sit pondering our dreams, they are nothing more than that - dreams. We must risk speaking them aloud, as Will did to me four year ago. And people will call us crazy, as I did to Will (at least in my head). More than that, we must risk our money, our time, and our sweat toward that imagined alternative, which many will call a bad investment. At the Vine & Fig Tree, in our infancy, we find ourselves in the thick of this - weighing and praying over the minor and major risks, and sometimes pushing each other off the diving board. Will we become co-owners of this property? Will we have more of a common economic pot? Will we invite this or that person as a guest? This stage of discerning our way through risks is, I suspect, a place we will return to again and again.

And we need each other to call and carry us into risk. We have to invite others to join us (which is also a risk!). Will and Dee Dee invited me, Katie, Christa, and Timothy to join in their dream even before it was realized. We need companions to say, “Yes! I’m a dreamer, too!” and to live into the newness we are imagining. We cannot follow this odd and beautiful path alone, or like a vine without water, our dreams will wither and die. We need each other and we need the Spirit to remind us of our purpose and to nourish our creativity and courage.

I give thanks for Will and Dee Dee’s imagination, risk, and invitation that gave birth to our community. And I watch how we all engage in these steps again and again as we move deeper into our life together. I give thanks that we are not the first, but we have many teachers and companion communities like Open Door who model this life of faith and resistance. And I am grateful for the opportunity to reflect on our life through occasional missives in Hospitality. Meanwhile, please pray for us - that the early shoots of the Vine and Fig Tree would be nourished, that we would not lose courage, but continue to imagine and risk together with God’s help.