I like the ease of being with people who are at home in their own skins. People who are living out what they are supposed to be out living. People who are not doing violence to themselves by denying the God-breathed core of who they are.

That all sounds very mystical and somewhat ridiculous. But there is something there that I cannot quite touch with words. I think it’s what captured me about who the characters are at the end of Cold Mountain. It’s what I see in people when I say, “They are grown ups.” And it’s very readily apparent in the lives of Kevin and Tracy Raines (and Co.). This ebbs and flows, as most things do. But right now, Kevin and Tracy, and their community as an entity, are very much at home in their own skins — so most people seems to be at-home with them. It makes for peaceful living. And in the case of the Brownhouse, fun. A great deal of fun.

I spent the whole long weekend the Raines’ and their ever-so-large-circle of fascinating friends and relations. We gathered for Mayhem, all 260 of us. (Just a quiet little gathering!) It’s been a long time since I’ve been with such a big group of Christians and not had to worry about what came out of my mouth – not had to be on the defensive. It was good to be “not alone” for awhile. Virtually everything people said made sense to me. It didn’t frighten me or make me angry. It just comforted me in its camaraderie and inspired me in how it “extended the scope of my charts.” (Annie Dillard) It was good too to feel as though I have come through the overwhelming shock of jumping into the river that is postmodernism. My journey went like this. 1) I realized that I and the people around me intuited truth through art and story more strongly than through any other medium – and that straight-up teaching had virtually fallen off of our learning map. That was like accidentally getting my toes wet in an unexpected wave or ripple. 2) I realized I loved being in the neighborhood more than I loved singing in between four walls. I realized that the community for whom I was primarily passionate had shifted. My “passion loyalty” had shifted. Living that reality out felt more like Jesus. It felt how the word incarnation sounded. Living that way was purposeful. I had to get wet intentionally. I was going wading. 3)I read “A New Kind of Christian” and my only response was, “Yeah, just like I thought,” and I realized I was in up to my neck. Maybe even in over my head.

When a Christian minister gets that deep into the reality that is postmoderity, there is quiet a bit of thrashing around. Your aren’t swimming in a nice safe heated 5ft deep pool. You’re in the ocean. It’s hard to find the rhythm of the waves. It takes awhile to learn how to do the crawl. At Mayhem I realized, I’ve learned how to do the crawl. Actually, most days, it feels like maybe I’ve even learned how to just float on my back and kick along. (Although that doesn’t imply forward motion, so maybe that’s a bad analogy. Of course, this isn’t the “purpose driven” anything, so there’s room for a lot a floating. I think you even have to float. In the new spirituality that I’m practicing restful stuff like floating is sort of like required reading.)

So I guess really, what it comes down to, is that in addition to meeting roomful after roomful of terrific people at Mayhem, I also realized that I’m starting to become at home in my own skin. At least a little. And that make me breath a sigh of relief.

Plane’s landing. Gotta go.