What is Urban Ministry Like? It Can Be Messy.

I was amused last week when I read a note from one of our church's summer interns. He is a college student spending his summer learning about urban ministry. On his first Sunday with us, he was assigned to teach the third through fifth grade boys' Sunday school class.

I'm not sure, but I suspect that he came into urban ministry with a few naive ideas. If he was like me, he probably thought that the main problem confronting the urban poor had to do with a lack of money. He probably thought that the boys would be grateful for his willingness to give up his summer in order to teach them a little about Christ.

However, it did not take him long to be relieved of some of his naivete. He took a van to pick up people in the low-income apartment complexes when he discovered that 99% of parents would send their children to church services alone. They were not really interested in Bible classes and worship assemblies themselves, but they did not mind letting their kids leave for a few hours every week.

Then, as he tried to teach the Bible class, he discovered that most of the boys were not interested in the Bible study either. They were more interested in showing the other boys how cool they were by refusing to pay attention or obey simple requests like, "Please sit down and join the group." Finally, as the class ended, four of the black boys piled on a white boy and tried to beat him up.

He discovered that while poverty was one problem faced by the urban poor, it was not the only problem (and very possibly not the worst problem). Our new intern learned that he may not be appreciated for his compassion toward the poor and that our full-time urban ministers cannot be paid enough for their often difficult work.

It reminded me of my most difficult Bible class.

A few years ago, our congregation started the morning with a worship assembly, followed by Sunday school, and a meal. One of our ministers realized that many of our smoking members were neglecting the Sunday school classes so that they could smoke a cigarette or two before the meal. He tried in vain to persuade them to go to a Bible class every week. After a few weeks, he grabbed about a dozen chairs, set them up outside the front door where everyone was smoking, and started a Bible class on the Bible's wisdom literature for them.

Although I didn't smoke, I joined the class too. As summer was nearing an end, our minister needed to be gone for a few weeks of vacation and travelling to other congregations to raise support for his work. He asked me to take over the class for those weeks.

The first few minutes were uneventful. The class members helped me to set up the circle of chairs.

However, as we sat down to start the Bible class, a young teenager rushed through the front door and ran to his mother who was sitting in our class just outside the front door. A few seconds later, our youth minister came through the door. He grabbed the young man by the shoulder and said, "I know you're new here, but we don't punch other kids in the face and run out of class." After a little more admonition, our youth minister returned to his class, but the teen boy remained with his mother.

Thinking that things were calming down, I opened my Bible to Psalm 15 and asked the class to follow along as I read it. Since my eyes were focused on the Scriptures, I did not know what was happening around me. But I saw a blur run past me to the other end of the church building.

As I finished reading the passage, I saw that the teen boy had left the group. His mother got up and went to him. A few seconds later, the woman was screaming every profanity and obscenity imaginable at her son. Naturally, we could not focus on the Bible study with this scene going on. Of course, I'm sure that the neighbors were not appreciating the profanity-screaming woman on our property.

Our recovery minister (who worked with our members who had drug and alcohol addictions) was present in the class, so I asked him to take over the teaching while I tried to talk to the upset mother. Regrettably, I was not making any progress, and our recovery minister dismissed the class early so that he could join me in the conversation.

The screaming mother was angry because during the part of the class when I was reading from the Psalms, two visiting homosexual young men were kissing each other. Her son was disgusted and ran to the other end of the building. She began yelling at our recovery minister and me, "I didn't think that this was that kind of church!!!" Our recovery minister replied, "We're not that kind of church...but we're also not the kind of church that lets parents scream obscenities at their children."

Eventually, she calmed down.

As one of our ministers says, "Urban ministry is messy."

Does this mean that urban ministry makes no difference? Does it mean that everything is hopeless? No. It just means that the problems involved in urban ministry run far deeper than the lack of money or employment. It means that urban ministry requires patience, perseverance, and love for people who struggle. Within a year, the obscenity-screaming mother turned to Christ in faith and repentance, seeking God's forgiveness, and submitting to baptism. While the two homosexual young men have not become Christians yet, they have continued to study privately and in public with our Bible teachers and ministers. They have also stopped kissing each other in church services. Progress comes slowly and with difficulty at times, but it's worth it.

Refraining from Profanity

This is an excerpt from The Mentor Leader by Tony Dungy:

"Leading through your words and actions--whether someone's watching you or not--tells the world who you are, and more important, who you believe God created you to be. It not only is true in times of turmoil, but is woven throughout the very fabric of our lives.

"James also reminds us of the destructive potential of our words, when he talks about the fickleness of the tongue:

"'Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water?

"'Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, and you can't draw fresh water from a salty spring.'
James 3:9-12 (New Living Translation)

"In March 2009, Chicago Public Schools administrators proposed a new rule prohibiting high school coaches from using profanity while performing their coaching responsibilities. To my amazement, I was asked to go on a national radio show, not to debate whether this was a good rule, but to discuss whether it was even possible for coaches to comply. I assured the interviewer and the listeners that it certainly was possible and that I and many members of my staff were able to do it without need of an ordinance. I pointed out that the school board would be very disappointed if they went into the classrooms and found teachers cursing nonstop at the students and that I didn't understand why it should be any different on the playing field.

"I believe that coaches, especially in high school, should be held to the same standard as classroom teachers--if not a higher one. I agree with the idea behind the proposed rule in Chicago, but I must say it's sad they would have to legislate such an obvious standard of leadership to those in powerful positions of influence with our youth. What message does that type of language send to those young people? That it's okay to demean someone if you're in charge? That it's okay for me to disrespect an official because I think he made a mistake?" (pages 126-127)

I Found a Savior (Part Two)

This is the continuation of a Contact Church member's testimony. Part One may be read at http://adisciplesthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-found-savior-part-one.html.

"Our family moved to Texas. On September 16, 1996 I was taken from the complex laundry mat to a storage room on the back side and sexually assaulted. I remember laying there crying and begging God to save me. Men had continued to do whatever to my body and I never had a say. Not even the all-powerful God would save me. Part of me wished he had killed me and put me out of my misery. When he took my wedding ring and my husband's class rings off my fingers that night it hurt me more than anything else. Waking Russell up to tell him what happened was hard as I had already cheated and hadn't even gotten through the pregnancy; I was eight months pregnant. Russell eventually left for another woman which only reinforced all the lies--that I was unlovable, worthless, and not good enough. I was left with myself, 2 kids, and a bunch of drug addicts and alcoholics who I sure fought hard to not be like, but I resigned and figured that's exactly what I deserved. I would spend the next 10 years with a man who did every drug known to man. He was an IV drug user and an alcoholic who very much did not value women. He introduced me to a behind the scenes look at the drug world. I was at a place where I really welcomed death, in fact half the time I prayed for death. Well when that plan failed I began provoking anger in Bill___--maybe he would put me out of my misery. Bill and I would spend a lot of time arguing, fist fighting, drinking, drugging up until I got busted in February 2000. Then I would clean up, however, he would not. I began to realize that God was with me the night I was raped and that I was alive and God was working in my heart. After I cleaned up I became pregnant with my first girl. This spoke to me in awesome ways because I believed God would not give me little girls because I wouldn't be good enough, after 3 boys that was very easy for me to believe. There was this calm inner voice that kept saying leave this man and a much louder one saying no he might die without you. I wanted to leave all the time but I was terrified of being alone. I needed him to protect me. I would not cook, wouldn't clean, wouldn't try, just argue, scream, fight, and rage. Then I began rocking, abusing crack cocaine and neglecting my children. I was completely bankrupt. Imagine this, there I am on the floor searching for a crumb of crack to smoke and my 5 year old daughter bends down and says, 'Is this one momma?' I began to cry and she said, 'Momma I want you and daddy to stop fighting, stop cussing, stop smoking cigarettes and stop searching for white rocks.' I would soon discover the thing I feared the most--those precious girls that I just knew God would not give me had been molested. I was very calm and made a phone call to DHS. The judge ordered the children to remain in custody. I begged for Family Drug Court which required rehab, counseling, accountability, and responsibility. You would think that the reality of children being gone, what happened to them, and the court stuff pending would have been enough for me to get clean but it was not. Bill, myself, and my sister all shared an efficiency apartment where I helped my little sister off of her program through DUI school and strung her out on crack too! I later beat up my sister and she called the cops and the landlord."

To be continued.

Daddy, What's a Wuss?

Last night during our football scrimmage, Christopher came to me and said, "Daddy, that boy I'm going against spit at me and called me a 'wuss.' What's a wuss?"

As one of his assistant coaches and his father, I told Christopher, "Don't worry about it right now. Just go out there and knock that boy on his rear every time. Don't let him intimidate you. You are tougher than him. He can't handle you, so he's trying to scare you. But you're better than that. You can take him."

We are going to run across those kind of people in our lives, the type of people who call names but who cannot back up their words. Sometimes I am called a racist because I am pro-life. I have been accused of being apathetic toward the poor because I do not buy into Emergent theology. My job is to live my life in such a way as to make the accusations look as stupid as they are. Christopher's job on the football field is to make the boy wonder who the real wuss is...the name-caller or the boy who is acting with class while knocking him on his rear every play?

I was reminded of this verse from 1 Kings 20:11, "One who puts on his armor should not boast like one who takes it off." Prove yourself by your actions. Don't boast before you have proven yourself capable of backing up your words.

High Standards and Generous Forgiveness

Yesterday, I was reminded of a seeming paradox in the Christian faith.

Before our preacher Ron Babbit spoke in our worship service, one of our members addressed the congregation. "Neighbor" (as he is known) stood in front of the podium to apologize and to ask for forgiveness. "Neighbor" has been a member of the Contact Church for nearly 5 years, but he has struggled with an addiction to alcohol and drugs for most of his 50-plus years of life.

A little over a week ago, one of our other members saw "Neighbor" entering a bar. "Neighbor" does not remember the details of what happened, because he was already in an alcohol and drug induced blackout. Apparently, our concerned member contacted a few other church members to try to help "Neighbor." But he responded badly to the attempt to help him, with abusive language and belligerent behavior. They could not help him. Eventually, he woke up in the county jail that evening, charged with public intoxication, and not knowing how he had managed to get into such trouble. He did not even know how he had treated fellow Christians who had tried to help him that night.

Sunday morning, he confessed his guilt. He thanked those who had tried to help him; and he asked for their forgiveness. "Neighbor" wants to do what is right with his life.

The entire congregation came forward, put our arms around him, and prayed for our friend and brother "Neighbor." Everyone loves "Neighbor" and wants him to be successful in overcoming his addiction. We want to see him living free from his sin.

What was the paradox that I noticed? On the one hand, we speak out against sins like drunkenness, cussing, hatefulness, and irresponsible behavior. We have high moral standards...such high standards that we are sometimes accused of moralism and self-righteousness. On the other hand, we are eager to offer forgiveness...so eager that we are sometimes accused of naivete and being too soft on the guilty.

We understand that every sin is an offense against God. We know that hell is deserved. We comprehend that our sins placed Christ on the cross. He died because of our sins. We know that our sins are destroying our sense of inner peace as well as our peace with God.

We also understand that God wants to forgive us. We realize that Christ sacrificed his life to forgive us and to free us from our sins. He wants us to enjoy life in heaven with him forever. We know that we need to show mercy to each other, since Christ has been merciful to us. We have received a generous dose of forgiveness, and need to extend generous forgiveness to others who have seen their need to repent.

As the Bible teaches, "At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior" (Titus 3:3-6).