Many of you may be familiar with the term "Great Awakening" from history class or the history channel. Wikipedia claims that there were four such great awakenings in Christianity, where waves of people were revived to "spiritual enthusiasm." People, essentially, woke up. This means that they had to be sleeping....or dead. I've been having many thoughts lately on other ways people are woken up. Alarm clocks. Roosters. Sunrises. Pouncing dogs and purring cats.
Kids. They are little beings that imprint and emulate people around them. Their brains often soak up information told, inferences observed, and incorrect ways of living. When I look back at the past school year and all that happened at our after school program, I'm amazed at the many things the kids learned. Even just after one year, academic ability, knowledge capacity, and kickball prowess showed very visible growth in the kids. They will only learn what is taught them. Before this school year, I don't think any of them ever heard of Argentina, Antarctica, Turkey, Benin (I didn't know this one) and knew there were other cultures. How important is it for a kid to know that the national sport of Argentina is called Pato? Not much, but it opens their minds to learning new things. It seems that the more I learn, the more I realize how little I know about the world. When I first experienced poverty up close and personal, I had a "waking up" moment. When you are dreaming, are you ever confused as to whether or not you are sleeping? Many times, I only know that I was dreaming after I wake up. I can imagine that this is the same with when someone comes to put their trust in God and Jesus comes into their heart.
I wish I could explain with words the way this metaphor of waking up makes me feel when I think of things such as Christ dying and raising on the third day. Awake and asleep. Alive and adead. I'm going to use a fourth grader from our program as an example. I may have mentioned this before but the more I tell people about my year, I tend to share stories about this kid the most. Diallo began the year barely able to read. He would recognize the first letter of the word and guess what the word was (almost always wrong guesses). He did addition by counting on his fingers. A fourth grader. He began the year as a wild child, climbing fences, not following directions, not wanting to learn anything. Who wants to work on things they're not good at? After only one year, God has graced us 2nd Mile Ministries volunteers, interns, and staff with very visible growth. Diallo now loves to learn new things, especially on his own. He is a thinker and is very strategic when it comes to figuring things out. He can multiply decimals and fractions now. He is a stickler for following the rules and even helps other students make right choices. He can read near grade level now, he even reads the Bible during reading time. His choice, not ours. God is definitely doing things we can take no credit for. I feel blessed that God has used us to wake up some gifts and abilities in Diallo that may have otherwise been unseen and unexplored had he not attended the program and gotten personal love and attention from the volunteers.
Our long term dream and vision at 2nd Mile is to come along side people from the community and empower them to lead others in the community forward, not necessarily out of their lower standard of living, but forward and closer to their creator and more like Christ.
Because you are human, I can assume that there are tons of people that you once knew from your past (school, previous jobs) that you haven't seen, heard from, or talked to for years. Have any of those people ever called you out of nowhere just to see how you were doing or what you've been up to? How do you feel when that happens? This past year I've experienced a frustrating and deadening feeling of solitude. Living in a big house, having an entire floor to myself often sucked the life out of me. Without fail, every single time I caught up with a friend from home, I felt encouraged, like part of my past woke up, part of me was encouraged and felt more alive than before. I would just encourage you that if you feel like no one even cares about you or even recognizes your existence, think of someone and wake them up instead. There are so many scriptures where Paul makes an extra journey just to see some Christians in order to encourage them. There's something about reconnecting with people that makes me feel alive. I pray that if I'm able to see you or talk to you at some point this summer that you are encouraged. I know I'd be encouraged.
This past weekend I went to a wedding in LaCrosse, WI for a friend who I met on the Milwaukee summer project summer of '09. I got to see him as well as four other project friends. Reconnecting with friends who went through very life-changing experiences with me was like getting an electrical shock through my in-a-coma self. Ever go through life doing the same old same old, wondering what the heck life is all about? Sometimes last year I felt very much like in a dreamlike state of mind. Please pray that support raising this summer is more than just "fundraising" but an experience that shows mutual encouragement and extreme dependence on God for provision. Perhaps God will put it on your heart to give, or maybe he has already.
Please be blessed by this song by Leeland called "Great Awakening." The lyrics describe so much about what I hope and feel for not only Jacksonville, but for all relationships everywhere.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Mj8I1chdB0
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Hawkeye
There is a ton of excitement about the movie The Avengers. I got a chance to see it and it was a ton of fun. You may think this sad, but one of the biggest things I got out of the movie was a passing quote not five minutes into the movie. Hawkeye is introduced as a man of moral character, sitting high up and watching. As he comes down from his perch, he is asked why he was up so high. "I see better from far away." A short sentence, probably just a quote to describe his hawk-likeness. For some reason, I dwelled on that statement for awhile during the movie. Normally, things get blurry the farther away you get. There's even a point when an object can be too close to your eyeballs that it gets too difficult to focus.
Working at the after school program and volunteering at North Shore Elementary all year, being there day after day, I admit that sometimes I get lost in it all and my purpose gets out of focus. I think too small, mostly no further than that day, much less that particular moment of tutoring or disciplining or instructing. I can too easily lose track of the whole reason for this ministry and my whole purpose, as a Christian, in life. If you read my blog from March 18th titled Not A Circus, you might recall that 2nd Mile Ministries is going for the cathedral approach in restoring and developing the people in this Brentwood community brick by brick by brick. This cathedral may take decades to build and focusing on the big picture, or seeing the vision from a distance, will, in a sense, make each moment we interact with the kids and people in the community a little clearer.
Last week Monday, I returned from a conference in Atlanta after missing three days of two:fiftytwo. It was a cool feeling to be missed by the kids. They seemed to be behaving extra nice that day (may or may not have had anything to do with my return). While I was absent the week before, Diallo (whose job is to set up whatever recreation equipment I ask him to) got the chance to pick the games all by himself, a job he enjoyed so much. Even this small "promotion" is just a glimpse of the kind of leadership development we want the community to take ownership of. Next week, I hope to share with you the basic premise of the book When Helping Hurts which is a very important read for those who are interested in "helping" the poor. I will probably miss Diallo the most this summer as I go to Wisconsin to find the support team God's preparing. At the beginning of the school year, he was still doing addition by counting on his fingers, he could barely read multi-syllabic words, and he often showed no respect. Now, he multiplies decimals and fractions, can almost read at his grade-level (he's in 4th grade), and he is the biggest stickler to the rules and structure of the program. He even started to read the Bible during reading time on his own, something I would've never done at his age. God is working through us but on his agenda. There are now a handful of kids that read the Bible just for fun. For fun!! Kids!! Who am I to tell them that its too hard for them to read and understand? I pray for discernment in when I should step in and when I should just back off and let God do His thing.
If I get the opportunity to meet with you this summer, I hope that I can communicate clearly the big picture. Wisconsin, in national terms, is far away from Jacksonville geographically as well as culturally. I hope I will be able to see more clearly the vision God has called 2nd Mile Ministries to pursue. The first year of the after school program, I hope, will be only the first of many many years of fruitful relationships between families and neighbors. Please pray that in years to come, when a stranger enters Brentwood, they would just sense God's glory through the people and the way people welcome and love their neighbors because Jesus Christ first loved them. Only Jesus can change people, not me. I'm blessed to be someone God, by His grace alone, chooses to use. This is my last blog typed in Jacksonville. I will be back in Badger-land Thursday night around 11:30pm. I'm excited to go home but also sad to be leaving. It is very important to these kids (and me) that I come back and continue to build these relationships so that the kids can have a little consistancy in lives that, so often in poverty, are marked with so many surprises and changes beyond their control.
I'm near-sighted. I've worn glasses since 3rd grade, contacts since sophomore year of college. I'm choosing to be far-sighted. Can you see what I see?
Working at the after school program and volunteering at North Shore Elementary all year, being there day after day, I admit that sometimes I get lost in it all and my purpose gets out of focus. I think too small, mostly no further than that day, much less that particular moment of tutoring or disciplining or instructing. I can too easily lose track of the whole reason for this ministry and my whole purpose, as a Christian, in life. If you read my blog from March 18th titled Not A Circus, you might recall that 2nd Mile Ministries is going for the cathedral approach in restoring and developing the people in this Brentwood community brick by brick by brick. This cathedral may take decades to build and focusing on the big picture, or seeing the vision from a distance, will, in a sense, make each moment we interact with the kids and people in the community a little clearer.
Last week Monday, I returned from a conference in Atlanta after missing three days of two:fiftytwo. It was a cool feeling to be missed by the kids. They seemed to be behaving extra nice that day (may or may not have had anything to do with my return). While I was absent the week before, Diallo (whose job is to set up whatever recreation equipment I ask him to) got the chance to pick the games all by himself, a job he enjoyed so much. Even this small "promotion" is just a glimpse of the kind of leadership development we want the community to take ownership of. Next week, I hope to share with you the basic premise of the book When Helping Hurts which is a very important read for those who are interested in "helping" the poor. I will probably miss Diallo the most this summer as I go to Wisconsin to find the support team God's preparing. At the beginning of the school year, he was still doing addition by counting on his fingers, he could barely read multi-syllabic words, and he often showed no respect. Now, he multiplies decimals and fractions, can almost read at his grade-level (he's in 4th grade), and he is the biggest stickler to the rules and structure of the program. He even started to read the Bible during reading time on his own, something I would've never done at his age. God is working through us but on his agenda. There are now a handful of kids that read the Bible just for fun. For fun!! Kids!! Who am I to tell them that its too hard for them to read and understand? I pray for discernment in when I should step in and when I should just back off and let God do His thing.
If I get the opportunity to meet with you this summer, I hope that I can communicate clearly the big picture. Wisconsin, in national terms, is far away from Jacksonville geographically as well as culturally. I hope I will be able to see more clearly the vision God has called 2nd Mile Ministries to pursue. The first year of the after school program, I hope, will be only the first of many many years of fruitful relationships between families and neighbors. Please pray that in years to come, when a stranger enters Brentwood, they would just sense God's glory through the people and the way people welcome and love their neighbors because Jesus Christ first loved them. Only Jesus can change people, not me. I'm blessed to be someone God, by His grace alone, chooses to use. This is my last blog typed in Jacksonville. I will be back in Badger-land Thursday night around 11:30pm. I'm excited to go home but also sad to be leaving. It is very important to these kids (and me) that I come back and continue to build these relationships so that the kids can have a little consistancy in lives that, so often in poverty, are marked with so many surprises and changes beyond their control.
I'm near-sighted. I've worn glasses since 3rd grade, contacts since sophomore year of college. I'm choosing to be far-sighted. Can you see what I see?
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Starfish
Let me tell you a story that has been on my mind the past couple of weeks. When you read it, please be thinking about how poverty around the world seems like such an unsolvable problem. Enjoy!
One warm summer night, while everyone slept, a great storm thundered over a seaside village. The next day, a little girl awoke to bright sunshine. Her face beamed with a smile of great joy. She couldn’t wait to get to the beach. Soon she was walking along her favorite shoreline. She liked the feel of the sun on her face and the warm sand beneath her bare feet. She walked until she came across a starfish wriggling in the dry sand. Washed ashore by the storm, it was stuck. Soon it would die. The little girl looked up at the hot sun, then down at the struggling starfish, and then out to the blue sea. “How dare you leave him behind!” she scolded the retreating tide. If only there were a grown-up around, she thought. A grown-up would know what to do. “I guess the only one who can save you is me,” she said to the starfish.
She had never picked up a living starfish before, and she wasn’t terribly sure how to do it. Using two fingers, she gently pinched one of its five points and held the starfish up to her face. “I’m going
to send you home,” she said. The starfish wiggled its points in and out, as if in happy reply.
Slowly she brought her arm back across her body. Then she swung it forward quickly, letting the starfish go with a wide, open hand. Spinning gently, the starfish sailed through the air and landed in the water with a soft “plop.” The little girl smiled and continued walking down the beach. But after just a few steps, she found another starfish wriggling in the sand. No sooner had she tossed this one back to the sea than she came across another starfish.
And then another one.
And then another one.
And then another one still.
She tossed each one back to the sea.
She reached the top of a high sand dune and came to a sudden stop. What she saw below startled and
amazed her. Stretching out in front of her were hundreds upon hundreds, thousands upon thousands of starfish washed up on the beach. They were all dying in the hot sun. She looked up and down the beach, and wished that now, more than ever, there were a grown up around. A grown up would surely know what to do. Suddenly, she exploded into action. One by one, she began to toss starfish furiously back to the sea. She was so busy tossing starfish that she never noticed that a villager had stopped to watch her. Soon he was joined by another person. And then another one. And then another one still. Soon a whole crowd had gathered to watch the little girl toss starfish back into the sea.
Some people in the crowd began to point and giggle. Soon they were all pointing at the little girl and
laughing. “That little girl’s crazy,” said one.
“I know,” said another, “doesn’t she know that every summer thousands of starfish get washed up on the beach and die? It’s just the way things are.”
“There are so many starfish. She couldn’t possibly make a difference,” said a third.
The crowd of people grew larger and larger, until nearly the whole village had gathered to watch the little girl, and laugh at her folly. The little girl was still too busy tossing starfish to notice them.
Finally, an older man, considered wise by all the town, decided he had seen enough. He walked over to the little girl. She had just tossed back another starfish, and was smiling with great joy. She was reaching down for another starfish when the older man’s shadow fell over her.
“Little girl,” he said, “there are hundreds of thousands of starfish washed up on the beach, you can’t
possibly hope to make a difference. Why don’t you give up and go play on the beach with the other
children?” The little girl’s smile vanished. She gazed up at the old man, and then saw the crowd of people for the first time. She suddenly realized that they had all been laughing at her. Now they had fallen silent, awaiting her answer to the older man’s question. She was hot. She was tired, and close to tears. She began to think that maybe he was right — maybe they were all right. She had been tossing back starfish for what seemed like hours. And a carpet of starfish still covered the beach. How could she have possibly thought she could make a difference? Her arms fell limp at her sides, and she dropped the starfish she was holding in her hand back to the hot sand. She began to walk away. “That’s right. Go on and play. You cannot possibly hope to make a difference,” the older man said to the retreating girl. The crowd smiled and nodded their heads.
Then suddenly the little girl stopped, and turned around. She walked back to the starfish she had dropped. Reaching down, she it picked up and -- swinging her arm as hard as she possibly could -- she let the starfish go with a wide, open hand. The crowd of people watched as the starfish soared and spun gently through the air, and then fell far into the sea with a soft “plop.” The little girl turned back to the older man, and with a smile of great joy, said:
“I made a difference to that one!”
And then, from the back of the silent crowd of people, a little boy came forward. He walked over to the little girl, picked up a starfish, and sent it soaring gently back to the sea. As it, too, landed with a soft “plop,” the little boy said, “And I made a difference to that one!”
The little boy’s mother and father then joined their son. “I made a difference to that one!” said the mother, smiling. “And I made a difference to that one!” said the father, laughing. One by one, every member of the crowd joined in tossing starfish back to the sea, calling “I made a difference to that one” each time. Finally, even the older man reached down, picked up a starfish and tossed it gently to the sea. As he heard it land with a soft “plop,” he looked over at the little girl and, catching her eye, said in a voice that everyone could hear, “And even I made a difference to that one!” Soon, more people who had been walking along the beach stopped to join in. And more people. And more
people still. Soon hundreds — perhaps thousands — of people of all ages, sizes and colors were tossing starfish back to the sea and calling out:
“I made a difference to that one!”
“I made a difference to that one!”
“I made a difference to that one!”
As the little girl gazed upon the beach, she saw nothing but people tossing starfish for as far as her eyes could see. Soon the voices began to quiet down, and the little girl wondered if people were getting too tired to continue. But what she saw startled and amazed her. All the starfish were gone. They had all been tossed back to the sea! “Look,” said the little girl, “we made a difference to all of them!” Many years later, another little girl was walking down that same beach. She reached the top of a sand dune, and came to a sudden stop. What she saw below startled and amazed her. For as far as her eyes could see, there were people tossing starfish back to the sea. Curious, she approached an older man. “Could you tell me please, sir, why you are all tossing starfish back into the sea?” Many summer’s ago, the older man had once been that little boy who had been the very first person in the crowd to step forward to help the little girl save the starfish. “Little girl,” he replied, “don’t you know that each year, when a summer storm washes thousands of starfish onto the beach, the entire town comes out to toss them all back to the sea?”
“Do you think that I could make a difference, too?”
“Of course you can,” he said, “Come join us!”
At the Atlanta conference I went to last week, the seminar leader asked us all a question.
"How big is your God?"
He wanted us to think about our prayer life, if we prayed to have a good day, safe trip home, stuff like that. As he asked these questions, I thought about the kinds of prayers I pray. Do I ask God to do big things in my life that go beyond normal circumstances and my own ability to make happen? Rarely. I feel our faith and how we pray is directly coorelated to how big our view of God is. This story makes me want to pray boldly for the people of Jacksonville. I am only one person. And our after school program is only 10 kids in a city of over 800,000 people. I want to be as persistent as the little girl in the story. I would also pray that God would raise up more and more people, hopefully even in the Brentwood neighborhood, to live completely for Christ, unashamed of the gospel and living for God's kingdom. Matthew 9:37 says, "The harvest is plenty but the workers are few." I pray that you would have greater understanding of how holy and big God is so that your faith would increase and you'd grow others as well. Love a neighbor as yourself. Take a chance on someone you feel has been neglected or ignored in a while. You might be the only friendly voice they hear all day. Blessings!
Andrew
Sunday, April 29, 2012
God's grace
I fly back to Milwaukee, on an airplane, May 17th in order to make it in time for a friend's wedding that weekend. I will be in Wisconsin until August 5th. In case you have yet to hear it directly from me or through the grapevine, I am coming back to Jacksonville at the end of the summer to join staff with 2nd Mile Ministries! I'm so excited to come home and see family and friends that I've missed this year, but I'm actually even more excited to share with you, hopefully face-to-face, my heart for this neighborhood but more importantly what God has been doing in Pearl World.
I have a confession to make. There are so many times I forget to or just don't thank God for the things he pulls me through, the ample resources he graces me with, and also the experiences he gives me. I know I've been bad at this this year, but for those of you that have been praying for me, the ministry, the neighborhood, or the two:fiftytwo kids, you are so appreciated by us. There are so many intentional things God does in our lives that sometimes they go over our heads. I've been living here in Brentwood by the grace of God as well as the financial support of many of you. I can honestly say that I wouldn't and couldn't be here impacting the kids, families, and schools without your support. Cliche sounding as it may, I couldn't have done this year without you. You trusted that God was moving in me and the ministry, or maybe you were just being nice (both appreciated), and helped me as you could. Have peace in the fact that God loves a cheerful giver (2 Cor. 9:7). In five days, I'm going to a "Boot Camp" conference in Atlanta, Georgia for two days, 8am-6pm both days in lecture-intensive seminars learning the biblical way to support raise. I've already spent about 35 hours in personal study on the subject with the help of some books. It's been comforting to know Paul, Jesus, and many disciples lived on the support of other people at critical times in their ministry.
There have been many moments this year where I've felt worthless and alone, but then God used some of you to give me a call/email/text of encouragement or prayer that was unexpected. Thank you for all you've done for me, not just financially, but through your thoughts and prayers. The fact of the matter is, if you are currently supporting me, just know that my internship here with 2nd Mile Ministries end in about a month, but my journey towards staff begins. If you would be in the process of thinking and praying about (pastor Francis Chan calls this "prinking") supporting me once again, I know the Lord will bless you. If you have been blessed at all by the things you've read or heard, or if you've shown someone in one of your circles this blog or told them about me, I'd love to meet with you/them and invite you to join my support team. I can't do this alone. I don't think anyone could.
Please pray that God would take away any fears that I have of support-raising this summer which include worrying that asking for help will somehow ruin my relationship with that person and also the fears of trying to do this without God's help.
There's a good chance I will contact you...and I'm so excited for the chance to connect/reconnect and invite you to my support team. Love you guys. Thanks again.
-Andrew
Saturday, April 21, 2012
A Closer Look at Poverty - part 2 of 2
What is poverty?
The first time I remember being asked this question was during my summer experience living in inner-city Milwaukee in 2009. It was there and then that my direction in life took a huge detour and I haven't changed course since. I went to the University of Wisconsin for a Viola-Performance degree, kind of without thought. I graduate high school. I go to college. Pick something I like or I'm good at. Find a job in that field. Do that the rest of my life. Have you ever made a whirlpool with friends when you went swimming? Everybody walks/runs/swims in a circle in the same direction for a couple minutes until the water's momentum picks up. Then on the count of three, everyone turns around and tries to swim in the other direction and its difficult to make any forward progress. Coming out of high school, I went with the flow of expectations I received from the people around me, those friends and family that spoke influence into my life. I just sort of swam in the same direction as those around me. It was comfortable. It made it easy to feel like I was doing to right and normal thing when I saw that most others around were doing the same thing, seeing life through similar lenses.
My junior year of college will go down as the year God changed my course, had me switch my direction from the majority around me. After a spring break to Panama City Beach, FL with a Christian organization on campus, God gave me the desire to sign up for a summer project in Milwaukee. It was close to home and I'd at least feel somewhat at home. Haha. I look back and smile at how wrong my thoughts were. I realized I knew nothing about Milwaukee, nothing about its people, nothing about the material poverty, nothing about the segregation, nothing. It was at City On A Hill (a former hospital) where we stayed for the summer. "How would you define poverty?" "People that don't have much money, food, clothes, etc.?" That entire summer, we focused more on the fact that everyone is spiritually poor. Let me explain. Due to the fact that everybody is a sinner, everybody is spiritually poor. If I look at my brother on the street who has much less than me and somehow assume I'm more spiritually healthy than he then I am dead wrong and very unhealthy. Do you remember the parable from Luke 9 about the Pharisee and the tax collector? "To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”
If you answered the question "What is poverty?" with words describing material depravity, let me show you your ignorance in a loving and kind way like mine was shown to me a couple years back. Here are a couple samples of how the materially poor have described their situations.
"For a poor persdon everything is terrible--illness, humiliation, shame. We are cripples; we are afraid of everything; we depend on everyone. No one needs us. We are like garbage that everyone wants to get rid of." -Moldova
"When I don't have any food to bring my family, I borrow, mainly from neighbors and friends. I feel ashamed standing before my children when I have nothing to help feed the family. I'm not well when I'm unemployed. It's terrible." -Guinea-Bissau
"During the past two years we have not celebrated any holidays with others. We cannot afford to invite anyone to our house and we feel uncomfortable visiting others without bringing a present. The lack of contact leaves one depressed, creates a constant feeling of unhappiness, and a sense of low self-esteem." -Latvia
"When one is poor, she has no say in public, she feels inferior. She has no food, so there is famine in her house; no clothing, and no progress in her family." -Uganda
"The poor have a feeling of powerlessness and an inability to make themselves heard." -Cameroon
Do you hear their words? Have you ever felt like nobody needs you? Have you been in situations where you feel there is no way out? If you remember from part 1 of 2, the welfare system helps provide for those specific people who are of low-income and can't provide for themselves. However, this system with good intentions also is pretty dynamic in keeping these people in poverty. You might judge like I once did and say that government handouts make these people lazy and create dependence, therefore justifying your own lack of concern for these people (poverty of the heart). We can't blame people for a broken system penalizes people for working by taking away benefits for every dollar they earn.
Since my summer in Milwaukee, my eyes have looked at materially poor people with new eyes, ones that judge less and are concerned more for their hearts. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing to do with this course change in my life and I hope that God can do in your heart what he has done in mine and that is, showing me his love for his children and his creation, humbling me to see I'm no better than the drug-dealers, the prostitutes, the high-school dropouts, and by being present with me every step of the way, even when my own selfishness and pride attempt to mess up his plan.
Living in Brentwood has been awesome and the relationships we've built with the kids, the teachers, the parents, and the neighbors have been awesome. I wish I knew more better words to describe my experiences. For those of you curious about what my plans are for after the internship...tune in next week. Or, if you want to know sooner, call me.
The first time I remember being asked this question was during my summer experience living in inner-city Milwaukee in 2009. It was there and then that my direction in life took a huge detour and I haven't changed course since. I went to the University of Wisconsin for a Viola-Performance degree, kind of without thought. I graduate high school. I go to college. Pick something I like or I'm good at. Find a job in that field. Do that the rest of my life. Have you ever made a whirlpool with friends when you went swimming? Everybody walks/runs/swims in a circle in the same direction for a couple minutes until the water's momentum picks up. Then on the count of three, everyone turns around and tries to swim in the other direction and its difficult to make any forward progress. Coming out of high school, I went with the flow of expectations I received from the people around me, those friends and family that spoke influence into my life. I just sort of swam in the same direction as those around me. It was comfortable. It made it easy to feel like I was doing to right and normal thing when I saw that most others around were doing the same thing, seeing life through similar lenses.
My junior year of college will go down as the year God changed my course, had me switch my direction from the majority around me. After a spring break to Panama City Beach, FL with a Christian organization on campus, God gave me the desire to sign up for a summer project in Milwaukee. It was close to home and I'd at least feel somewhat at home. Haha. I look back and smile at how wrong my thoughts were. I realized I knew nothing about Milwaukee, nothing about its people, nothing about the material poverty, nothing about the segregation, nothing. It was at City On A Hill (a former hospital) where we stayed for the summer. "How would you define poverty?" "People that don't have much money, food, clothes, etc.?" That entire summer, we focused more on the fact that everyone is spiritually poor. Let me explain. Due to the fact that everybody is a sinner, everybody is spiritually poor. If I look at my brother on the street who has much less than me and somehow assume I'm more spiritually healthy than he then I am dead wrong and very unhealthy. Do you remember the parable from Luke 9 about the Pharisee and the tax collector? "To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”
If you answered the question "What is poverty?" with words describing material depravity, let me show you your ignorance in a loving and kind way like mine was shown to me a couple years back. Here are a couple samples of how the materially poor have described their situations.
"For a poor persdon everything is terrible--illness, humiliation, shame. We are cripples; we are afraid of everything; we depend on everyone. No one needs us. We are like garbage that everyone wants to get rid of." -Moldova
"When I don't have any food to bring my family, I borrow, mainly from neighbors and friends. I feel ashamed standing before my children when I have nothing to help feed the family. I'm not well when I'm unemployed. It's terrible." -Guinea-Bissau
"During the past two years we have not celebrated any holidays with others. We cannot afford to invite anyone to our house and we feel uncomfortable visiting others without bringing a present. The lack of contact leaves one depressed, creates a constant feeling of unhappiness, and a sense of low self-esteem." -Latvia
"When one is poor, she has no say in public, she feels inferior. She has no food, so there is famine in her house; no clothing, and no progress in her family." -Uganda
"The poor have a feeling of powerlessness and an inability to make themselves heard." -Cameroon
Do you hear their words? Have you ever felt like nobody needs you? Have you been in situations where you feel there is no way out? If you remember from part 1 of 2, the welfare system helps provide for those specific people who are of low-income and can't provide for themselves. However, this system with good intentions also is pretty dynamic in keeping these people in poverty. You might judge like I once did and say that government handouts make these people lazy and create dependence, therefore justifying your own lack of concern for these people (poverty of the heart). We can't blame people for a broken system penalizes people for working by taking away benefits for every dollar they earn.
Since my summer in Milwaukee, my eyes have looked at materially poor people with new eyes, ones that judge less and are concerned more for their hearts. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing to do with this course change in my life and I hope that God can do in your heart what he has done in mine and that is, showing me his love for his children and his creation, humbling me to see I'm no better than the drug-dealers, the prostitutes, the high-school dropouts, and by being present with me every step of the way, even when my own selfishness and pride attempt to mess up his plan.
Living in Brentwood has been awesome and the relationships we've built with the kids, the teachers, the parents, and the neighbors have been awesome. I wish I knew more better words to describe my experiences. For those of you curious about what my plans are for after the internship...tune in next week. Or, if you want to know sooner, call me.
A Closer Look at Poverty - part 1 of 2
What is poverty?
From When Helping Hurts:
On poverty-
"It is easy to conclude that the majority of the problem lies with the people themselves--their worldviews, behaviors, and values--because the people's faults are far more obvious than the fallen systems in which they live.
The Broken American System
The ghetto into which [many people are] born, through no choice of [their] own, originated in the massive migration of African Americans from the rural South to northern cities from 1910 to 1960 as a result of the increased mechanization of Southern agriculture. Centuries of slavery and racial discrimination contributed to the relatively low levels of education of these migrants, who fled north looking for blue-collar manufacturing jobs. Upon their arrival in the North, a combination of economic forces, public policy, and housing discrimination caused the migrants to concentrate in inner cities.
Despite the crowded conditions, in the early 1950's the African-American sections of America's inner cities were largely viable, stable communities; however, the subsequent three decades were quite destabilizing. Federal urban renewal and highway programs required land in inner cities, and African-American neighborhoods were often razed. Low-income African Americans were then relocated into publicly funded housing projects, while middle- and upper-class African Americans were forced to relocate elsewhere. Using a set of policies that both explicitly and implicitly discriminated against African Americans, the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) then began to offer subsidized mortgages that enabled millions of Caucasians to purchase homes in the suburbs and flee the cities. Ironically, advance in the civil rights movement later reduced suburban housing discrimination, allowing middle- and upper-class African Americans to relocate to the suburbs as well. As a result of this suburban flight, the remaining inner-city, African-American communities lost leaders, role models, working familites, and a solid economic base.
And then the jobs left. America transitioned from a predominantly manufacturing ecomony to a service economy. From 1970 to 1985, millions of high-paying, blue collar jobs simply disappeared from inner cities, moving to other parts of the country or overseas. Unemployment in the inner cities skyrocketed, and many African-American inner-city residents joined the welfare rolls, a system that penalized them for working by taking away benefits for every dollar they earned."
This book, although I've only read three chapters so far, has opened my eyes to why things are the way they are today. The book is written by Steve Corbett who gives many examples of methods used by the church to alleviate poverty that have caused more harm than good due to a lack of understanding of the people who live there, their perception on life, and what they're really needing. (there, their, and they're in one sentence--ten points!) It's a great book and I recommend reading it. I'm going to give another excerpt from the book that may illuminate some of what may be in your own heart. The author states,
"One Sunday I was walking with a staff member through one of Africa's largest slums, the massive Kibera slum of Nairobi, Kenya. The conditions were simply inhumane. People lived in shacks constructed out of cardboard boxes. Foul smells gushed out of open ditches carrying human and animal excrement. I had a hard time keeping my balance as I continually slipped on oozy brown substances that I hoped were mud but feared were something else. Children picked through garbagef dumps looking for anything of value. As we walked deeper and deeper into the slum, my sense of despair increased. 'This place is completely God-forsaken,' I thought to myself.
Then to my amazement, right there among the dung, I heard the sound of a familiar hymn. 'There must be Western missionaries conducting an open-air service in here,' I thought to myself. As we turned the corner, my eyes landed on the shack form which the music bellowed. Every Sunday, thirty slum dwellers crammed into this ten-by-twenty foot "sanctuary" to worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The church was made out of cardboard boxes that had been opened up and stapled to studs. It wasn't pretty, but it was a church, a church made up of some of the poorest people on earth.
When we arrived at the church, I was immediately asked to preach the sermon. As a good Presbyterian, I quickly jotted down some notes about the sovereignty of God and was looking forward to teaching this congregation the historic doctrines of the Reformation. But before the sermon began, the service included a time of sharing and prayer. I listened as some of the poorest people on the planet cried out to God: "Jehovah Jireh, please heal my son, as he is going blind." "Merciful Lord, please protect me when I go home today, for my husband always beats me." "Sovereign King, please provide my children with enough food today, as they are hungry."
As I listened to these poeple praying to be able to live another day, I thought about my ample salary, my life insurance policy, my health insurance policy, my two cars, my house, etc. I realized that I do not really trust in God's sovereignty on a daily basis, as I have sufficient buffers in place to shield me from most economic shocks. I realized that when these folks pray the fourth petition of the Lords' prayer--'Give us this day our daily bread'--their minds do not wander as mine so often does. I realized that wile I have sufficient education and training to deliver a sermon on God's sovereignty with no forewarning, these slum dwellers were trusting in God's sovereignty just to get them through the day. And I realized that these people had a far deeper intimacy with God that I probably will ever have in my entire life."
1 John 2:15-17 says, "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever."
Do you love the world and the things of the world? What do you put more importance, thought, time into than your relationship with God? What acts as a shroud in your life even though God intended and has made his children alive through Christ? (Ephesians 2:4-6) I ask you once again--what is your definition of poverty?
-to be continued
From When Helping Hurts:
On poverty-
"It is easy to conclude that the majority of the problem lies with the people themselves--their worldviews, behaviors, and values--because the people's faults are far more obvious than the fallen systems in which they live.
The Broken American System
The ghetto into which [many people are] born, through no choice of [their] own, originated in the massive migration of African Americans from the rural South to northern cities from 1910 to 1960 as a result of the increased mechanization of Southern agriculture. Centuries of slavery and racial discrimination contributed to the relatively low levels of education of these migrants, who fled north looking for blue-collar manufacturing jobs. Upon their arrival in the North, a combination of economic forces, public policy, and housing discrimination caused the migrants to concentrate in inner cities.
Despite the crowded conditions, in the early 1950's the African-American sections of America's inner cities were largely viable, stable communities; however, the subsequent three decades were quite destabilizing. Federal urban renewal and highway programs required land in inner cities, and African-American neighborhoods were often razed. Low-income African Americans were then relocated into publicly funded housing projects, while middle- and upper-class African Americans were forced to relocate elsewhere. Using a set of policies that both explicitly and implicitly discriminated against African Americans, the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) then began to offer subsidized mortgages that enabled millions of Caucasians to purchase homes in the suburbs and flee the cities. Ironically, advance in the civil rights movement later reduced suburban housing discrimination, allowing middle- and upper-class African Americans to relocate to the suburbs as well. As a result of this suburban flight, the remaining inner-city, African-American communities lost leaders, role models, working familites, and a solid economic base.
And then the jobs left. America transitioned from a predominantly manufacturing ecomony to a service economy. From 1970 to 1985, millions of high-paying, blue collar jobs simply disappeared from inner cities, moving to other parts of the country or overseas. Unemployment in the inner cities skyrocketed, and many African-American inner-city residents joined the welfare rolls, a system that penalized them for working by taking away benefits for every dollar they earned."
This book, although I've only read three chapters so far, has opened my eyes to why things are the way they are today. The book is written by Steve Corbett who gives many examples of methods used by the church to alleviate poverty that have caused more harm than good due to a lack of understanding of the people who live there, their perception on life, and what they're really needing. (there, their, and they're in one sentence--ten points!) It's a great book and I recommend reading it. I'm going to give another excerpt from the book that may illuminate some of what may be in your own heart. The author states,
"One Sunday I was walking with a staff member through one of Africa's largest slums, the massive Kibera slum of Nairobi, Kenya. The conditions were simply inhumane. People lived in shacks constructed out of cardboard boxes. Foul smells gushed out of open ditches carrying human and animal excrement. I had a hard time keeping my balance as I continually slipped on oozy brown substances that I hoped were mud but feared were something else. Children picked through garbagef dumps looking for anything of value. As we walked deeper and deeper into the slum, my sense of despair increased. 'This place is completely God-forsaken,' I thought to myself.
Then to my amazement, right there among the dung, I heard the sound of a familiar hymn. 'There must be Western missionaries conducting an open-air service in here,' I thought to myself. As we turned the corner, my eyes landed on the shack form which the music bellowed. Every Sunday, thirty slum dwellers crammed into this ten-by-twenty foot "sanctuary" to worship the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The church was made out of cardboard boxes that had been opened up and stapled to studs. It wasn't pretty, but it was a church, a church made up of some of the poorest people on earth.
When we arrived at the church, I was immediately asked to preach the sermon. As a good Presbyterian, I quickly jotted down some notes about the sovereignty of God and was looking forward to teaching this congregation the historic doctrines of the Reformation. But before the sermon began, the service included a time of sharing and prayer. I listened as some of the poorest people on the planet cried out to God: "Jehovah Jireh, please heal my son, as he is going blind." "Merciful Lord, please protect me when I go home today, for my husband always beats me." "Sovereign King, please provide my children with enough food today, as they are hungry."
As I listened to these poeple praying to be able to live another day, I thought about my ample salary, my life insurance policy, my health insurance policy, my two cars, my house, etc. I realized that I do not really trust in God's sovereignty on a daily basis, as I have sufficient buffers in place to shield me from most economic shocks. I realized that when these folks pray the fourth petition of the Lords' prayer--'Give us this day our daily bread'--their minds do not wander as mine so often does. I realized that wile I have sufficient education and training to deliver a sermon on God's sovereignty with no forewarning, these slum dwellers were trusting in God's sovereignty just to get them through the day. And I realized that these people had a far deeper intimacy with God that I probably will ever have in my entire life."
1 John 2:15-17 says, "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever."
Do you love the world and the things of the world? What do you put more importance, thought, time into than your relationship with God? What acts as a shroud in your life even though God intended and has made his children alive through Christ? (Ephesians 2:4-6) I ask you once again--what is your definition of poverty?
-to be continued
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The Last Supper
Ever wonder what it would be like to walk with Christ when he was a human walking the earth? One thing I often forget to think about as I read the New Testament is that Jesus was familiar and practiced many of the Jewish traditions. One thing I'd like to bring to your attention is the fact that Jesus, or Yeshua, celebrated Passover. For those of you that are unfamiliar, in the book of Exodus, God instructed Moses and Aaron (Moses's brother) to have every Israelite family put lamb's blood on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the houses where they eat the lambs so that when He (God himself) goes throughout Egypt, He will "passover" those houses and will not take the lives of their firstborn (the last plague). If you want to know more about this, it's in Exodus Chapters 11 and 12.
Why am I talking about Passover which celebrates the liberation of the Israelites from Egypt when tomorrow is Easter Sunday? Because last night, I participated in a Seder for the first day of Passover. It was cool that the first day of Passover was on Good Friday, the day Jesus was crucified. A Seder is a Jewish dinner that celebrates Passover. I know a couple Messianic Jews (Jews that believe that Jesus, or Yeshua, is the Messiah and that salvation comes through faith in him alone, not these rituals) that used to come to our ministry's community dinners back in the day. There were only 6 of us at their house, well, 7 if you include the 11-month old Lily who didn't really participate in the synchronized readings. We started with each person having a plate with Morar and Chazeret (two bitter herbs which include a lettuce leaf and horseradish which burns the nostrils if you have too much), Charoset (a sweet brown paste with fruit and nuts symbolizing the mortar used by Jewish slaves to build the storehouses of Egypt), Karpas (another herb which can be parsely, celery, or cooked potato, we had celery dipped in salty water), Beitzah (a hard boiled egg, nothing to do with Easter), and finally Zeroa (roasted lamb bone, which only the host ate last night).
The ceremony continues with readings, particular times when you eat each of the six items, four times wine is poured (I had Welch's grape juice) and we poured for someone else, never for ourselves. As we drank, we all leaned to the left which is a "reclining" position. People traditionally (even before Jesus) ate Passover standing up. In Jesus's time, it became customary to sit down and recline. The Four Cups represent the four expressions of deliverance by God in Exodus 6:6-7. "I will bring out." "I will deliver." "I will redeem." "I will take." At about the half-way point of the night, we had the main meal which consisted of corn, peas, more Charoset (which was delicious), Matzah (a bland bread you might've had during Communion) and a tasty chicken salad. After the meal, we continued reciting the Haggadah, then had our last food for the night--the afikoman. At an earlier part of the Seder, I was asked to hide the afikoman (basically just matzah) and this was to symbolize Jesus's death and burial in the tomb. Later in the Seder, the afikoman was found, which symbolized His resurrection, and we ate it. It's also custom for the afikoman to be the last thing eaten that night, a mini-fast.
It was very interesting for me to experience the Passover meal as Jesus and His disciples, more or less, experienced it. If you read the accounts of the Last Supper starting at Luke 22:7, it mentions that they reclined, took the cup, took the bread, all parts of the Passover. Unlike other Passovers, Jesus substitutes himself into the ceremony. Take this cup. Take this bread. A ceremony filled with so much symbolism and remembrance, and as I see it, nothing of real physical substance, would become 100% real and physical only a day later. His blood poured out, his body broken like the bread. Jesus knew what the cross would mean for those he loved and who would believe. I admit that many times when I sin, I forget that His blood already paid for it. I beat myself up as if I thought I could do better. I can't. Not alone. Not by my means. If you know Jesus for yourself, don't forget that this world is not about you. The main character is God. "What can God do for me?" is replaced with "How can I live for God?" "How do I stop sinning?" is replaced with "How do I fix my eyes on the Lord so that nothing else even comes close to importance?"
I'm not Jewish and haven't turned into one in case you are curious or concerned. I'm still doing inner-city ministry. I'm just more and more curious about the Jesus that walked the earth as well as the Jesus whose death and blood sacrifice two thousand years ago still matters today.
Happy Easter!
Why am I talking about Passover which celebrates the liberation of the Israelites from Egypt when tomorrow is Easter Sunday? Because last night, I participated in a Seder for the first day of Passover. It was cool that the first day of Passover was on Good Friday, the day Jesus was crucified. A Seder is a Jewish dinner that celebrates Passover. I know a couple Messianic Jews (Jews that believe that Jesus, or Yeshua, is the Messiah and that salvation comes through faith in him alone, not these rituals) that used to come to our ministry's community dinners back in the day. There were only 6 of us at their house, well, 7 if you include the 11-month old Lily who didn't really participate in the synchronized readings. We started with each person having a plate with Morar and Chazeret (two bitter herbs which include a lettuce leaf and horseradish which burns the nostrils if you have too much), Charoset (a sweet brown paste with fruit and nuts symbolizing the mortar used by Jewish slaves to build the storehouses of Egypt), Karpas (another herb which can be parsely, celery, or cooked potato, we had celery dipped in salty water), Beitzah (a hard boiled egg, nothing to do with Easter), and finally Zeroa (roasted lamb bone, which only the host ate last night).
The ceremony continues with readings, particular times when you eat each of the six items, four times wine is poured (I had Welch's grape juice) and we poured for someone else, never for ourselves. As we drank, we all leaned to the left which is a "reclining" position. People traditionally (even before Jesus) ate Passover standing up. In Jesus's time, it became customary to sit down and recline. The Four Cups represent the four expressions of deliverance by God in Exodus 6:6-7. "I will bring out." "I will deliver." "I will redeem." "I will take." At about the half-way point of the night, we had the main meal which consisted of corn, peas, more Charoset (which was delicious), Matzah (a bland bread you might've had during Communion) and a tasty chicken salad. After the meal, we continued reciting the Haggadah, then had our last food for the night--the afikoman. At an earlier part of the Seder, I was asked to hide the afikoman (basically just matzah) and this was to symbolize Jesus's death and burial in the tomb. Later in the Seder, the afikoman was found, which symbolized His resurrection, and we ate it. It's also custom for the afikoman to be the last thing eaten that night, a mini-fast.
It was very interesting for me to experience the Passover meal as Jesus and His disciples, more or less, experienced it. If you read the accounts of the Last Supper starting at Luke 22:7, it mentions that they reclined, took the cup, took the bread, all parts of the Passover. Unlike other Passovers, Jesus substitutes himself into the ceremony. Take this cup. Take this bread. A ceremony filled with so much symbolism and remembrance, and as I see it, nothing of real physical substance, would become 100% real and physical only a day later. His blood poured out, his body broken like the bread. Jesus knew what the cross would mean for those he loved and who would believe. I admit that many times when I sin, I forget that His blood already paid for it. I beat myself up as if I thought I could do better. I can't. Not alone. Not by my means. If you know Jesus for yourself, don't forget that this world is not about you. The main character is God. "What can God do for me?" is replaced with "How can I live for God?" "How do I stop sinning?" is replaced with "How do I fix my eyes on the Lord so that nothing else even comes close to importance?"
I'm not Jewish and haven't turned into one in case you are curious or concerned. I'm still doing inner-city ministry. I'm just more and more curious about the Jesus that walked the earth as well as the Jesus whose death and blood sacrifice two thousand years ago still matters today.
Happy Easter!
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