I'm taking a break from Blogging

Its been a long time since I have written, and perhaps I will write again in the future. At the moment, I am going to put my blog on extendedpause, I just haven't been able to keep up with it. To my loyal readers, thanks for all of your thoughts, insight and support. I hope to write again soon.

Philosophy of Ministry

For those of you who don't this is one of my "buzz phrases" I think few things are more important in ministry then understanding why we do what we do. The link below is a podcast of Mark Soderquist, director of International Teams Urban and Ethnic, its about 15 minutes long, but definitely worth the listen.

http://fop107.hipcast.com/deluge/1dfce32b-3d52-f8e5-ea3f-40469271408e.mp3

Thanks,
Noel

an oil cross

I looked at the mirror with a sense of tiredness and peace, and saw a forehead, shiny from an oil cross.

I grew up in a church that taught that when the Bible talks about praying for healing or miracles, it meant only spiritual miracles, not physical ones. For instance the verse, "Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord." - (James 5:13-15), was taught that "sickness" meant having sinned, not actually being sick.

This kind of teaching helped calm the confused mind of a developing teenager. You see, I am a practical guy, I like to have answers to fix things, and for everything to make sense (avoiding all cognitive dissonance if you will). I saw a number of people prayed for over the ears, and there was two main camps the "If its your will camp" and the "we have faith, Lord you must" camp. I was never comfortable "demanding" (as I saw it) anything of God. But it seemed silly to pray for God's "will" when there seems to be so many verses telling us to "ask and you will receive", His will seems clear. So it made it easy for me to ignore healing entirely, categorize it as a "spiritual sickness or sin issue" and call it good.

That is until recently. I have been sick.

Ashley and I went to Costa Rica this holiday for a family wedding. While there I caught something nasty that gave me a fever for a few days. It was pretty scary; I haven't felt like that in all I can remember. Also the day Ashley and I left we caught something else which gave us explosive diarrhea (sorry tmi) for 10 days, again scary.

We didn't know what to do, should we wait it out, and go on with life, or see a doctor? The diarrhea was coming in waves, so sometimes we felt "ok", other times awful. We decided to wait it out, and continue with life, which meant taking teenagers to Iowa for a conference. Needless to say we didn't feel better, and two days into the conference, we had the same explosive symptoms. This was getting scary, not only had this been many days, be we weren't able to keep anything in. Both Ashley and I were losing weight at an alarming level. We decided that we had to go home and see a docter, otherwise it may have been another 3-4 days before we could get an appointment (due to New Years)

So we decided to approach my supervisor and pastor, with all of our reasons to go home. He listened carefully, and than said, "We need to pray". I hate this response. My problem fixing practical brain screams, "No, I need a doctor", but who can say that? So our pastor gathered a number of people together and we did as the verse says, he anointed our heads with oil and prayed for our healing. He then encouraged us to go home, he said that praying in faith and doing our part were not mutually exclusive; that seeing a doctor didn't take away our faith for God is the ultimate healer.

As I stood in the mirror in my room, looking at my shiny forehead, an overwhelming sense of peace came over me. Not just an emotional peace, but a physical peace. I knew that God was healing me. We did go to the doctor who gave us antibiotics, which we needed, but we didn't have anymore symptoms after that night. May seem like a coincidence, but to me, it was a little miracle.

When Jesus came proclaiming the "good news" or "gospel" of the Kingdom, he talked about it as a present realty that had come but was not here in its fullness. It is a place of justice and peace, where captives or released, poor are cared for, oppressed are released and sick are healed. (Luke 4:18) Jesus spent His whole time of ministry showing what His Kingdom is like.

When Jesus' disciples asked Him how to pray. He told them to pray "your Kingdom come"

It's a mystery. But when we pray for the sick we can pray for His Kingdom to come, an "already, not yet Kingdom" that will someday come in its fullness. I'm finally ok, asking "with faith" for healing without understanding it. If God doesn't heal, it’s not "out of His will" its just that His Kingdom hasn't come in it's fullness yet. As a follower of Jesus, I am dedicated to living as if the Kingdom of God is a present reality.

Anyone else have thoughts on the mystery of Jesus Kingdom?

Im still angry...but challenged to love

Those of you who read my last post, know that it was a deeply painful one for me. However, I have been doing a great deal of processing, and here is what I came up with.

I had a long talk with a dear Professor friend of mine, this past week. He is a professor of Criminal Justice, and deeply desires policing to be done with justice (the biblical kind) in our neighborhoods. He challenged me to remember that our call to reconciliation isn't just to white and black, but also to situations of community and police. This is not a message I wanted to talk about.

How difficult it is to share the love of Jesus to those who abuse power in our neighborhoods. I want to grow bitter to hate, but assuming that all police are corrupt and racist, is the same as hating my brother because of his skin color. Some police are good, some are bad, some only are functioning out of a world-view in which they only see the painful side of our neighborhood. It's easy to be angry at the injustice the police create in our neighborhood, but it is also easy to begin to hate, to judge categorically. Isn't that what we are fighting against. Doesn't Jesus calls to love our enemies?

Is anyone having success in this area? Anyone know where to begin?

I am angry...and its not the coffee.

Today is one of the most beautiful days of the year. The sun is shining the leaves are blowing, my neighbors and I waited in line to vote. What a privilege it is, especially in this community where for the longest time African-Americans could not vote, or were considered only 3/5ths of a person. Even in our recent history African-Americans were threatened, harassed and killed for voting. So today is a beautiful day. a day that brings dignity to young and old in my neighborhood. In a community that sometimes feels like it has no voice, today, people in my neighborhood waited for hours to have their voice counted, what a beautiful day.

On this day however, I am reminded that this struggle, the struggle for dignity is not over. Not one bit.

Starbucks gives out free coffee for those who vote. We have a Starbucks in our neighborhood. Imagine that a Starbucks in an African-American community. Starbucks started the store to provide jobs and potentially attract other businesses into our jobless neighborhood. We love our Starbucks, young African American professional stop by on their lunch hour; African American college students do homework after class. The elderly from our neighborhood sit, talk, drink coffee, and play chess. If you live in a poor community you will understand how amazing it is to have a quite place, a restful place to sit and feel like you are treated like a normal human being. There is no bulletproof glass at Starbucks, no walls of glass that separate the store workers from the customers. The employees are young African American men and women, many working their furst job where they are treated with value.

Ashley and I went to Starbucks after voting to get our free cups of coffee. The place was buzzing with excited conversation. Everyone was excited about the election. To elderly folks (who probably remember the voting act of 1965) happily engaged us in conversation. They weren't concerned who we voted for (I'm not telling by the way) but they were excited to turn in their voting slip, and get a cup of coffee. Proof that in this country there are moments of equality.

Then I heard the statement, the statement that sucked the life from the room. "I hope you are all here tomorrow!" I turned, as I turned I heard the next statement, "This all might be burned to the ground!" Two white police officers had entered the door. They spoke loud enough for everyone to here, and only spoke to the one white Starbucks worker. “You shouldn't be here tonight, they joked." Everyone held their breath. Something evil had just entered the room. Power, power that was distinctly racist. What gives someone the right to enter into an all black environment and say things that degrades the community to rioting animals. This is my neighborhood too, and the people I know here are sweet gentle, hopeful people. Has there been riots in the past? Yes. Were they a good thing? Absolutely not. Can I understand why they happened? Now that I am learning history that wasn't taught to me, I can. Could there be potential riots tonight or tomorrow. Not likely, unless there is reason to believe that the election was stolen. Which if you know our history is not impossible to imagine.

I know the bulk of my readers will disagree with this post. If you do, just realize that it is easy to justify such statements from the outside. But I know when I have heard racism, and I know that I heard disdain, and something that bordered on hate from Chicago's "Finest". I know when I have seen power abused. "The police are our friends" is what I heard growing up. Tell that to the young man standing next to the white woman behind the Starbucks counter. Tell that to the African American pastor who is afraid for his life when he is pulled over for no reason. The police are my friends. They talk to me in Starbucks. They give us personal cell phone numbers, "just in case". They talk to me on my porch about how they want to flip a neighborhood. They see that I am white, and their true thoughts come out. "We are together, I’ll watch your back, why do you live here?" I know for a fact that these conversations do not happen with my African-American brothers and sisters.

So what could Ashley and I do. What could anyone do in our situation? Say something, and risk being pulled out of the store and patted down. I know how our police function in our neighborhood. It's through fear and intimidation. They would not have allowed someone to question their opinions. So we walked out. But as we did, something sunk in me, "I should have said something, anything,” but fear is powerful.

I am trying to recapture the hope that I had this morning, but there is something bitter in my stomach. And it’s not the Starbucks coffee.

Hope from the Hopeful - learning to mourn

I’m learning to mourn, with the assurance of things not seen.

 The culmination of my learning at Taylor University was my Senior Christian Education Paper.  In 78 well documented pages I waxed eloquently about my newly developed "Philosophy of Ministry".

 My title: Leadership-Discipleship among Urban Adolescents: Bringing Hope to the Hopeless.  

 I wish desperately that I could write it over.

 Sunday night I watched the Bears game over a beer with one of my good friends Ryan.  Ryan works with gang members in one of the neighborhoods bordering ours.  Ryan, who grew up in the neighborhood, himself an ex-gang member, has an incredible story.  Sunday during half-time, he told me how he had taken a group of youth from his neighborhood to go camping a few years back.  While on his trip, the stopped to speak at a large white church.  Ryan shared his story with the church and how God had changed him.  The evening went great as far as he could tell.

 

When Ryan returned to Chicago, he got a call from a friend or two " did you see the article in the newspaper?"  The local newspaper at the town he spoke had printed a front page article, without asking, with a large picture of the group and of Ryan.  The headline:  "Bringing Hope to the Hopeless".

 How many examples do we have in our society of the (usually white) coach, the teacher, the mentor, the writer, who enters into a poor ethnic neighborhood and somehow with pep talks, and inspirational actions, brings hope to kids that don't have any.  

 "Finding Forrester"

"Glory Road"

"Freedom Writers"

"Knights of the South Bronx"

"Dangerous Minds"

 

There are definitely more examples. 

To be fair, there are examples of African American teachers/coaches (Remember the Titans, Sister Act etc.)

 You must agree though, we are fascinated with the concept of heroes and heroines.  Swooping in to hopeless situations, through impossible odds bringing light in the dark.  

 At the end of his story, Ryan said.  "I was so offended.  My kids aren't hopeless, my neighborhood isn't hopeless, it is a place filled with more hope that anyone from the outside can possibly imagine"

 When he said that I was reminded of my senior paper.  I was reminded that when I first began ministry in the city.  I thought that i was bringing Jesus into the neighborhood;  That my presence brought hope, That my neighborhood was lucky to have me there.

 

I didn't realize that Jesus had been in my neighborhood long before I got there.  That the local African-American churches (which I did not trust by the way) had been showing the love of Christ for 50 years.

 I also realized that my neighbors had more hope for the future of our neighborhood, for racial reconciliation, for the education of their children than I did.  In fact it is only joining with the Prayers of two African-American Pastors and on Latino Pastor from my neighborhood two mornings a week that I am still able to believe that what we do matters.  Those hours are filled with mournfully hopeful prayers.  You see, they have had many years of having their backs to the wall, seeing more pain than I can fathom.  However they have also seen God answer their prayers, in a very practical sense.  It is from my pastor who has spent 20 years talking to others about race (and hearing painful responses) that I have hope for our racialized church.

 Bringing hope to the hopeless?  Not me,  learning to Hope from the Hopeful.  That’s a better description.  Its amazing that I would have to move to a place that experiences great amounts of pain to see that God is faithful.  but then again isn't that what Jesus said.

 "Blessed are those who mourn for the will be comforted"

 I’m learning to mourn, with the assurance of things not seen.

Drive-Bys

Our neighborhood is known for many things.  Whenever the news mentions North Lawndale, the video stream is usually of police lights, and crime tape.  Drive-By shootings though rare are especially highlighted on the news.  There are few things scarier, then someone shooting haphazardly out of a moving car....And it makes for "good" news.

There is a different kind of drive-by that happens in our neighborhood.  It happens very frequently, but never makes the news.

Drive-By Mowings.  

The other day, I came home to a beautifully manicured lawn.  (Please don't mistake, I hadn't cut my lawn in a few weeks.) Someone, I don't know who, mowed my lawn, my neighbor's lawn, and all the grass out by the street.  Not only did they do it secretly, but they did it very very well.  My lawn hasn't looked this good in months.

I was talking to a friend recently who said "there is power in how you describe a neighborhood"

Our neighborhood could be described as (and usually is): "a poverty stricken neighborhood plagued by drugs, gangs, and joblessness.  Where trash and broken glass fill empty lots and broken windows are the norm."  (P.S. broken windows aren't the norm, just so you know)

Or our neighborhood could be described this way:  "a neighborhood full of life, where neighbors sit on portches, say "good-evening", and share groceries with one another.  Anonymous do-gooders sweep the street of trash, mow others lawns, or shovel the side-walk for the whole block in the winter.  Kids play jump rope on the side-walk and a little-league team plays pick-up baseball in the lot on the corner.  An elderly man sets up a basketball hoop for guys on the block and watches them as he sells snow-cones. A young man walks from the 'L' after his day at a community college and a older man sits on his porch playing blues riffs on his guitar"

 Which neighborhood would you want to live in?  How would you like your neighborhood portrayed on the evening news?

I'm desperate to see a piece on drive by mowings on the evening news. But I'm not sure anyone would notice.      

What’s your neighborhood like?  Have you experienced any good drive bys?  Have you participated in any?