Being Tenders of the Hearthhold of God

By Glory E. Dharmaraj

After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; …Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?”

They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”

So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” …the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of fish that you have just caught.”

So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn.

Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.
John 21:1-14

In Search of a Fireplace

Renovation work is under way on my house. There are sounds of drilling, hammering, sawing, occasional yelling amongst construction workers trying to hear each other.

Key areas of the house are being renovated: kitchen, bathroom, living room. Kitchen utensils are packed up, and bathroom "stuff" is stacked in a corner of the guest room. Remembering where to find things is a mnemonic exercise. Leaping over objects not in their usual places is an acrobatic exercise, and I have never been an athlete.

What little cooking is possible is done in an old, small microwave oven temporarily wedged on a bookshelf between women’s theologies and old literary works.

I am not a happy camper. Period.

Layers of Debris in My Understanding

I listened to construction workers commenting on our old house. The man who stripped the kitchen floor said, “I can’t imagine: four layers of kitchen flooring. The amount of debris.”

The house is old, but four layers of flooring? I realized I had never unearthed the history of the house.

The dust that arose from removing the layers of kitchen flooring – some more than 130 years old – triggered my asthma. I turned my discomfort and anger against my husband, Raj.

“How long? How long is this renovation going to be?” I asked.

In his usual controlled style, he said:

“Honey, it is not our house. There are the trustees who are working with this renovation. Every worker and trustee is aware of your health problem. They are doing their best.”

Not our house. Our house is a parsonage: the Shrub Oak, N.Y., United Methodist Church parsonage. It is a church house. Christian workers come, live here with their families, tend the church, and leave the place for others to come and build on their work.

This house sat almost on the road until the 1960s when it was moved back a few yards. It is part of a church where Francis Asbury preached.

I realized there were layers of debris from my understanding that needed to go. I had been conditioned to think it was my house, neat and tidy for my family alone. I had forgotten to look at the cloud of witnesses who had occupied this house before our arrival, and those who would come after us. While pondering this truth, I heard a worker comment on our carpet.

Fixing the Bubbles

“Most of the carpet area has to come off,” the worker said. “There are a lot of bubbles. We will have to reinstall the carpet, at least three-quarters of it, to remove the bubbles.”

Over the years, there had been a build-up of bubbles – air spaces – under the carpet that had created an uneven surface dangerous enough to trip over.

I realized that the bubbles had to be burst. For that, all the furniture had to be removed. Even as I resisted, saying, “Why now?” I had to face the presence of the troublesome bubbles: bubbles I had tended to overlook. Bubbles, nevertheless.

Tending the Fireplace

There was progress. A new, built-in microwave oven was installed. Yet, I continued to use the old one. I need to retool to use the new one, and I didn’t have time to read the manual. So I said to myself, “The kitchen is still under renovation.”

While visiting the kitchen, one of the church trustees happened to see the old microwave, still sitting on the bookshelf, and asked, “Why?” I am glad such chance sightings and deep questionings occur when I am away from the parsonage.

I am told Raj responded, “I am going through the microwave oven manual, since Glory is working and does not have time.”

Before one begins to think, theologize, even burst one’s egoistic bubbles, she or he needs to know where the new central fireplace is and how to operate from there.

Truth is, Raj and I could not throw out the old, portable microwave – one we had been using since our student days, more than 20 years ago. It had become the center of our household.

Being Tenders of Fireplace

Setting up a new microwave – the fireplace of today – in a house still under renovation was a fearful experience because I had to discard and scrape things off my memory. I recalled the vitality of reflections on hearthhold from Angolan Christian women during Bible Women training by the Women’s Division of the United Methodist General Board of Global Ministries in that West African nation earlier this year.

I was leading Bible study on the anointing women – those who anointed the Anointed One, Jesus the Christ. I was noting that in all the Gospels, the anointing was done inside a household. I alluded to an African concept of hearthhold, a term first used by Felicia I. Ekejuiba, an African sociologist. This term has since been developed into a theological concept of “hearthhold of God” by African Methodist theologian Mercy Amba Oduyoye.

The participants, who were from provinces throughout West Angola, said fireplace in their context means defense, protection, food, warmth, solidarity, sharing ideas, a sign of life, a means of communication and the presence of life of the household. One woman, speaking in Portuguese, referred to nutrir da palavra de esper – nurturing the fire of hope.

I was told Afican women create palavra – hearthhold – in the fields where they spend long hours. They set up three rocks under the sky or under trees. They create palavra for survival.

Central Fireplace

In some African communities, there is a central fireplace. These fireplaces, open on all sides, have roofs supported by poles. Only after this central fire is lighted can people in the community light fireplaces in their houses. In the Umbundu language of Africa, the central fireplace is called njango. In the Kikongo language, spoken in Angola and by Angolan refugees to the Congo, the central fireplace is called kibanga.

These central fireplaces are like the one set up by Jesus on the shores of the Tiberias Sea. They are just some rocks put together. Our community-making God sets up the central fireplace for all us, members of God’s community.

The Risen Savior calls us to his central fireplace, and invites us to eat and drink (John 21:12). Jesus invites us to set up fireplaces in unlikely places to nurture hope, life and love.

There is always fire for us to set in new hearthholds because the central fire never goes out. The tender of the central fire is Jesus the Christ. God tending the central fireplace is a grace event.

Within the heart-warming picture of Jesus in John 21:1-14 is his implicit call to us, his followers, to set up fireplaces wherever needed, and to tend them faithfully. Fireplaces are forces of healing, forces of wholeness.

Solidarity Among the Hearthhold Tenders

An Angolan Christian worker added something to my Bible study. Deolinda Teca, staff of the Angolan Council of Christian Churches, in a closing prayer to the study, invited participants to get up.

“Walk around the Hearthhold of God, thinking about those who are suffering and in need,” Ms. Teca said. “Think about those who are caring for their hearthholds, responsible for their families.”

Her steady voice continued to echo, as she led the ambulatory intercession:

“Please pray for a spirit of solidarity among the hearthhold tenders.”

My eyes were moist as I kept pace with the Angolan Christians who were walking around the room in a circle, praying aloud. The Angolan Christians taught me how to pray around the fireplace even as their households and nation are under reconstruction. In their generosity of grace, they interceded for the spirit of solidarity among all the tenders of hearthholds worldwide.

I am a recipient of this grace. I recall their prayer as I sit in the Shrub Oak parsonage, still under renovation.

“Pray for the spirit of solidarity among the hearthhold tenders.”

In John 17:22, Jesus prayed a similar prayer:

“That they may be one.”

One Lord, one Spirit, one body – and one central fireplace, by which we continue to light our fireplaces, even Jesus the Christ.