"All set up, Reverend Dicks," Bryan said. "All we need is for your friends to call in."
Henry Dicks wiped his glasses and looked at the computer screen in Bryan Carlson's detached home office. He looked at his wife Dorothy and nodded. "This is about the time of day we tried last time, right?"
"Right," Dorothy said. "They're fourteen hours ahead, they're probably finishing dinner by now."
The bluish light of a predawn Saturday morning filtered through Bryan's office windows as he helped the pastor of the Hope Primitive Love Communion set up an Internet phone connection. Henry was waiting to hear from a Chinese couple in Changsha who were struggling to lead and grow their own Christian neighborly love congregation. He checked through some notes he'd made on Peter and Irene Dong's questions. Dorothy looked through a folder of other church business. Henry's stomach rumbled. They had risen in the dark and come straight over to Bryan and Kathryn's house without anything to eat.
A window on Bryan's computer screen pulsed with light and the speakers played a ringing sound.
"Looks like your friends," Bryan said. He accepted the call and pointed the little video camera to frame Henry and Dorothy.
On the screen was a video window showing a Chinese man in his mid-thirties with a collared shirt, tie, and zippered cardigan. Henry blinked at Peter Dong's outfit. He couldn't quite place it, but he was sure he'd seen someone wear that exact style. Irene Dong wore a pale blue flannel nightie with a flower print -- getting ready for an early bedtime, perhaps.
Henry and Dorothy greeted Peter and Irene, hearing each other clearly for the first time.
"Looks like we've got a good connection," Bryan said. "I'll be in the kitchen making coffee if you need me. I'll see if my sweet roll dough survived overnight -- me and cookbooks are still trying to understand each other."
"Thank you very much, Bryan," Reverend Dicks said.
"Doesn't Kathryn cook?" Dorothy asked.
"She put her foot down, and now we trade off. I'm kind of getting to like it," Bryan said. "She says I'm improving."
Dorothy laughed. "All right, then."
"See you later," Bryan said, and closed the door.
"You have a helpful friend," Irene said.
"Bryan is a good man," Henry said. "We're not well acquainted, but we have a connection through the man who fixed up our church to keep it warmer this winter."
Dorothy squeezed Henry's hand, remembering how good it had felt to know Walter Thomas deep in her body. He had introduced them to Bryan. Henry squeezed back, remembering how it had been to know Walter's fiancée Delora. The curve of Delora's ear, the taste of her skin and the delight in her eyes when she received Henry while Walter knew Dorothy.
Henry continued, "Bryan seems to know what he's doing, anyway. The last time we tried to set up a call with you, it was quite a disaster. But here we are. I looked at your questions and the things you've gone through, and Dorothy and I think you've done quite well."
Peter and Henry talked over some of the problems Peter had faced over the five years since he had founded his congregation. One woman's husband had died in an industrial accident. There had been a couple of unexpected pregnancies with the "wrong" parents, some financial tight spots and some other difficult situations. The congregation was still quite small, with most of the members originally connected through Peter's bible study group at the college at Changsha.
"Literary study is what we called it," Peter explained. "So we had to study some other books as well."
"And one of the books was The Foundation of Loving Community," Irene said. "When we finished that book, the group that were left, they were our church. "
Henry nodded eagerly. Dorothy laughed. "We call that one the New New Testament, sometimes," she said.
Irene continued, "I was so thankful that we could have a loving circle that felt like that Peter and I had found in Minnesota. I was surprised to find people back home who heard the same call. It opened my eyes to how big love could be."
Peter Dong put his hand in his wife's. "Having that love in our lives has opened our hearts," he said. "To be generous and kind, to be a better vessel for God's love."
Dorothy smiled. "May God bless us and let his light shine in us, and through us." she said.
The four of them stood silent for a minute, connected across the world.
"I get the impression," Henry said, "That your group is getting to the point that ours did, a few years after it was founded. Back then, everyone was living together on a common farm and celebrating neighborly love. But things started getting tangled up, and we had to reorganize our congregation in order to save it. You won't be going through the first step that we did, since you've never lived in common quite that way, but organizing to deal with people starting families, to keep people under your roof even while the forces of the outside world are pulling them away -- we have quite a bit to share on that. May you never have to deal with some of the trouble we have."
"Amen," Dorothy said. "It sounds like you're not quite ready -- not big enough, anyway, -- to have a separate lower and upper church."
Peter and Irene nodded on the computer screen.
"But I do have some thoughts for you," Dorothy continued. She spent some time discussing ways that she and Henry had found worked well for the Hope Primitive Love Communion to keep the vital link of neighborly love alive as their congregation's lives had changed, and suggesting which ones might be especially helpful for Peter and Irene's group. "And now on to more exciting things. Henry?"
"We would very much like to host you through the World Neighbors' Exchange," Henry said. "Did the invitation come through? Did the Exchange help you get the travel dates you wanted?" |