Who are mission trips for?

Bob Lupton does amazing urban ministry in Atlanta. He has a way of saying things I want to say, but he seems to always add a little twist that creates a profound challenge to my thinking.

Honorable Marketing
August 2009

Cheerios just got a black eye. For as long as I can remember, those little round “O”s have been a breakfast favorite of both children and adults. Kids have spelled words with them in their cereal bowls, moms have carried baggies of them in their purses for snacks, dads have shoveled down spoonfuls as they hurried out the door on the way to work. In recent years these nutritious, fiber-rich, toasted 100% whole grain oat delights have boasted an amazing ability to lower bad cholesterol. I believed them. Who wouldn’t believe in Cheerios? Then some whistle-blower or competitor cried foul and the Federal Trade Commission took a close look at these health claims. Cheerios may be nutritious but no longer can they claim to lower cholesterol. They got caught doing false advertising.

Is it buyer beware or do we want government watchdogs checking the validity of our marketing practices? Frankly, I’m glad there is some ethical standard in our society that attempts to maintain a modicum of honesty. Can you imagine living in a culture where you could believe nothing that you read or heard? What chaos! I’m disappointed in Cheerios. I wish their advertising were as wholesome as their 100% whole grain oats. But I’ll keep eating the little “O”s for breakfast. And I’ll also keep taking my cholesterol pills.

The Federal Trade Commission, an independent agency of the U.S. government, is charged with keeping American business free and fair. Included in its many responsibilities is “to prevent the dissemination of false and deceptive advertising of goods, drugs, curative devices, and cosmetics.” False claims, whether by Cheerios, car dealers or snake oil peddlers, when detected are subject to public exposure, penalties and immediate corrective action. The FTC has jurisdiction over a broad spectrum of activities but there is one realm it cannot penetrate — the church. The church-state barrier offers protection against government intrusion into the practice of organized religion. Of course, one would expect that, since the Judeo-Christian traditions are foundational to the ethical and moral codes of American society, the church would be the last institution in need of ethical policing.

Certainly the church is not without its flaws. The moral failure of church leaders is legendary. The media feeds off such scandal. Yet, in spite of the damage caused by the occasional fall of religious leaders, the church as an institution strives to preserve and protect high standards of conduct. Though its members, and too often its leaders, fail to measure up to its high ideals, the church remains the primary guardian of moral and ethical values. It may wrestle with controversial issues of the day such as gay marriage and abortion, but it does so in pursuit of a moral high ground.

But there is one area that seems to have eluded the ethical scrutiny of the church. Churches from the left to the right, high and low, share the same blind spot. Perhaps it’s because the practice is so pervasive or because the claims seem so spiritual. But if the FTC were to shine the spotlight on the marketing of missions, the expose would be, well, perhaps not damning but certainly embarrassing. Take a look at most any promotional package for a mission trip and you will get the distinct impression that lost, starving, forsaken people have their last hope riding on the willingness of Christians from the US to come and rescue them. The pictures are heart-rending — a close-up of a child’s sad face, a tin-roof shack beside an open sewage ditch, an old woman struggling under a load of firewood sticks. The emotional call goes out for the “healed, trained, empowered and Spirit filled teens to be missionaries to the world.” Such experiences promise to touch lives, change the world, and have a dramatic, life-changing impact on those who will sacrifice their comfort to go. For a week!

Can we be honest? Mission trips and service projects are important. For lots of reasons. But the truth of the matter is that dropping into a strange culture for a week or even two creates far more work for the local leadership than it’s worth, except for the money and gifts we leave. And those gifts more often than not do more long-term harm than good. As one local leader told me: “They’re turning our people into beggars.” Much of the work we do is make-work — painting a church, digging a foundation, leading a summer Bible school — all work that could and should be done by locals. “Our men need the work,” a seminary president once told me as we discussed the impact of US mission trippers in her impoverished country.

But this treatise is not about the downstream impact of mission trips. Some ambitious young reporter seeking to make a name for himself will sooner or later handle that expose. This is about the dishonesty in our marketing of these trips. Our “people-are-dying-and-you-can-save-them” rhetoric may be effective spin to lure young people (and older as well) into signing up but we know that only on rare occasions is this actually true. Yes, there are Katrinas. But the overwhelming majority of our mission trips are to places where the needs for development are far greater than for emergency assistance. And development is about enabling indigenous people to help themselves, not doing the work for them. Development is much longer term, calls for professional expertise and planning, requires lending and investing — not the sort of things that lend themselves to a typical short-term mission trip.

I am not saying that mission trips don’t have value. They do. Great value. They open up new worlds, new perspectives, new insights. They expose us to fascinating cultures, connect us with new friends, allow us to experience God at work in surprising ways, inspire us, break our hearts, build camaraderie among traveling companions. Any one of these benefits might well justify the time and expense. But isn’t it time we admit to ourselves that mission trips are essentially for our benefit, not for the benefit of the ones our marketing material portray? Would it not be more forthright if we called our junkets “insight trips” or “exchange programs”? Or how about Kingdom adventures? Do we really need to justify our journeying to exotic lands under the pretense of missionary work? Religious tourism would have much more integrity if we simply admitted that we’re off to explore God’s amazing work in the world.

I know we have to have good reason to justify spending the kind of money we do on mission trips. US churches spent well over $2 billion (that’s with a “b”) on them last year. This is not at all inconsistent with our normative pattern of church spending, however. We typically spend upwards of 95% of church budgets on ourselves anyway. So to admit that mission trip expenditures are primarily for the spiritual benefit of our members would not be out of line, that is if we feel justified spending that percentage on ourselves. But that’s a discussion for another time. Our subject here is marketing with integrity.

So how do we capture the imagination, the compassion, of a younger generation if not by appealing to the tenderness of their hearts? Come to think of it, it was the story of fatherless children that drew me into urban work nearly 40 years ago. I wanted to make a difference. That was a powerful motivator. So maybe “touching lives” and “changing the world” is appropriate rhetoric after all. It certainly appealed to my compassionate side and it played at least some part in shaping my call into ministry. The idea of sacrifice was also appealing to me, to offer myself up to a cause of great importance. I wanted my life to count. That was important. But playing to those tender Spirit-sensitivities should be done with great care. Setting up unrealistic expectations can lead to discouragement. Portraying false representations can lead to cynicism. Is it not enough to simply say “come and see” and then allow the Spirit to do the touching and surprising?

Here’s my bottom line: the Kingdom doesn’t need our hype. The Kingdom needs people who speak the truth.

Bob Lupton

Is God the cause of injustice?

Ever since I read Pedagogy of the Oppressed Pedagogy of the Oppressed several years ago, I have been a Paulo Freire fan.

I recently started reading Pedagogy of Hope. It's a heavy read, but there are little nuggets throughout that make it totally worth reading.

Freire believes in talking *with* the peasants in his home country of Brazil. He learned this lesson from a man who stood up and challenged him after one of his presumptuous talks to peasants explaining that they should not physically discipline their children.

Though that conversation is completely worth writing and repeating here, one that struck me was a conversation with a group of peasants who 1) thought Mr. Freire could provide them with all of the answers and 2) assumed that their life was rough because that was God's destiny for them.

In his book, he has this conversation with them:

"Fine," I had told them. "I know. You don't. But why do I know and you don't?"

"You know because you're a doctor, sir, and we're not."

"Right, I'm a doctor and you're not. But why am I a doctor and you're not?"

"Because you've gone to school, you've read things, studied things, and we haven't."

"And why have I been to school?"

"Becasue your dad could send you to school. Ours couldn't."

"And why couldn't your parents send you to school?"

"Becasue they were peasants like us."

"And what is 'being a peasant'?"

"It's not having an education...not owning anything...working from sun to sun...having no rights...having no hope."

"And why doesn't a peasant have any of this?"

"The will of God."

"And who is God?"

"The Father of us all."

"And who is a father here this evening?"

Almost all raised their hands, and said they were.

I looked around the group without saying anything. Then I picked out one of them and asked him, "How many children do you have?"

"Three."

"Would you be willing to sacrifice two of them, and make them suffer so that the other one could go to school, and have a good life, in Recife? Could you love your children that way?"

"No!"

"Well, if you," I said, "a person of flesh and bones, could not commit an injustice like that--how could God commit it? Could God really be the cause of these things?"

...

"No. God isn't the cause of all of this."

Free to be Me

Valuing people.

I think that's very important. Each of us have our quirks, our idiosyncrosies, our faults.

"...gotta couple dents in my fender...gotta couple rips in my jeans...tryin' to fit the pieces together, but perfection is my enemy...on my own I'm so clumsy...but on Your shoulders I can see...I'm free to be me...and you're free to be you."

Very comforting to know Someone has great plans for us no matter who we are...

Faith...an important part of who we are

Pardon me for continuing to post news clips of President and Mrs. Obama, but I'm home this week and am able to access much more news than when I'm at work all day. Plus, I think it's important for us to hear what they are really saying...and not the soundbytes that can be taken out of context or misconstrued.

But, more so, I think his words are profound. He acknowledges that religion has often been used in ways that allow us to discriminate and used to divide. He acknowledges that there are people of all faiths who follow very similar principles. He acknowledges that people of all faiths...and of no faith...are important to our work ahead and should be valued for their contributions. He recognizes that we wil not all agree. But also points out that our faith challenges us all to work together.

He speaks of his own conversion not being because of someone proselytizing, but because of what they were doing with and for people in the community. It was their non-discriminatory, non-overtly evangelistic faith in action that ultimately helped him understand the higher purpose Christianity offers...but he continues to understand the goodness in other faiths as well.

I've embeded the video, but I'm also attaching a large portion of his comments (below) because they were encouraging and meaningful to me.

I raise this history because far too often, we have seen faith wielded as a tool to divide us from one another—as an excuse for prejudice and intolerance. Wars have been waged. Innocents have been slaughtered. For centuries, entire religions have been persecuted, all in the name of perceived righteousness.

There is no doubt that the very nature of faith means that some of our beliefs will never be the same. We read from different texts. We follow different edicts. We subscribe to different accounts of how we came to be here and where we're going next—and some subscribe to no faith at all.

But no matter what we choose to believe, let us remember that there is no religion whose central tenet is hate. There is no God who condones taking the life of an innocent human being. This much we know.

We know too that whatever our differences, there is one law that binds all great religions together. Jesus told us to "love thy neighbor as thyself." The Torah commands, "That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow." In Islam, there is a hadith that reads "None of you truly believes until he wishes for his brother what he wishes for himself." And the same is true for Buddhists and Hindus; for followers of Confucius and for humanists. It is, of course, the Golden Rule—the call to love one another; to understand one another; to treat with dignity and respect those with whom we share a brief moment on this Earth.

It is an ancient rule; a simple rule; but also one of the most challenging. For it asks each of us to take some measure of responsibility for the well-being of people we may not know or worship with or agree with on every issue. Sometimes, it asks us to reconcile with bitter enemies or resolve ancient hatreds. And that requires a living, breathing, active faith. It requires us not only to believe, but to do—to give something of ourselves for the benefit of others and the betterment of our world.

In this way, the particular faith that motivates each of us can promote a greater good for all of us. Instead of driving us apart, our varied beliefs can bring us together to feed the hungry and comfort the afflicted; to make peace where there is strife and rebuild what has broken; to lift up those who have fallen on hard times. This is not only our call as people of faith, but our duty as citizens of America, and it will be the purpose of the White House Office of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships that I'm announcing later today.

The goal of this office will not be to favor one religious group over another—or even religious groups over secular groups. It will simply be to work on behalf of those organizations that want to work on behalf of our communities, and to do so without blurring the line that our founders wisely drew between church and state. This work is important, because whether it's a secular group advising families facing foreclosure or faith-based groups providing job-training to those who need work, few are closer to what's happening on our streets and in our neighborhoods than these organizations. People trust them. Communities rely on them. And we will help them.

We will also reach out to leaders and scholars around the world to foster a more productive and peaceful dialogue on faith. I don't expect divisions to disappear overnight, nor do I believe that long-held views and conflicts will suddenly vanish. But I do believe that if we can talk to one another openly and honestly, then perhaps old rifts will start to mend and new partnerships will begin to emerge. In a world that grows smaller by the day, perhaps we can begin to crowd out the destructive forces of zealotry and make room for the healing power of understanding.

This is my hope. This is my prayer.

I believe this good is possible because my faith teaches me that all is possible, but I also believe because of what I have seen and what I have lived.

I was not raised in a particularly religious household. I had a father who was born a Muslim but became an atheist, grandparents who were non-practicing Methodists and Baptists, and a mother who was skeptical of organized religion, even as she was the kindest, most spiritual person I've ever known. She was the one who taught me as a child to love, and to understand, and to do unto others as I would want done.

I didn't become a Christian until many years later, when I moved to the South Side of Chicago after college. It happened not because of indoctrination or a sudden revelation, but because I spent month after month working with church folks who simply wanted to help neighbors who were down on their luck—no matter what they looked like, or where they came from, or who they prayed to. It was on those streets, in those neighborhoods, that I first heard God's spirit beckon me. It was there that I felt called to a higher purpose—His purpose.

Hope for the New Year

Last year I "resolved" to have wishes instead of creating ambiguous resolutions that last for a day. This year, I still refuse to create a resolution I probably won't keep. But I will go one step beyond wishes. As we enter a new year, I have new hope.

Everything around me seems to be leaning toward coming together--listening to each other...learning from each other...accepting each other for who they are...and challenging each other to move beyond.

On January 20, we will have a president who has lived in different countries and whose skin color has caused him to experience life in the United States differently than any president who has gone before him. His presence has brought out hatred and evil from some. His assumed political views have created excitement and frustration from both sides. His religious associations have caused people to question him from the "right" and the "left." ...but his unifying talk and consequential actions are demonstrating a much longer term vision for bringing people together.

I find it interesting that the state of our nation is also causing people to become interested in other cultures and countries besides "America." Several friends (including myself) have expressed a desire to know more about the people and the culture of the areas where our friends and family are engaged in a war and are, thus, reading more and paying a little more attention to international news. There seems to be a desire to understand more about the middle eastern cultures and are finding out what life is like for other people in other countries and of religions other than Christian. It seems we are beginning to notice that our Iraqi, Muslim, Indian, Pakistani, Shia, Sunni neighbors exist here in the United States.

The other day I watched a documentary called Beyond our Differences.



As I listened to people of various religions, cultures, and ethnicities speak, I was inspired yet again with a sense of hope for our new year. In the documentary, Desmond Tutu quoted the Prayer of Saint Francis:

Oh Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

I remember singing a song like this in college...however, I remember that when I sang it, I thought about it as an action, something I could do for others, and not an application to my own life. In my religious upbringing, I was taught that I could take peace to someone else--the destitute people in Africa...the poor people in the inner city...the down and out in disaster areas. In my mind, it was "them" who needed me to teach them more about peace. I knew I was qualified because I didn't fight or intentionally harm people. I didn't think the song applied to me personally. It never occurred to me that there were ways I could change my own life to better embody that peace.

I never thought the true spiritual role and responsibility to carry peace within would be to make myself conscious of words that could be racially offensive, to educate myself about laws that disproportionately hurt people who are poor, to listen to people's stories of injustice, and to work with people to change that injustice.

This year I have hope that many more people will join on the path of seeing, understanding, and appreciating differences...and then going beyond them. I look forward to that in 2009.

Opening doors to people

My parents changed our house into a Bed and Breakfast when I graduated from high school. They had the bed and breakfast up until a few years ago when they retired.

I remember being very skeptical of allowing people to come in and stay at our home. However, it ended up being a natural fit--my mom is an early riser, a talker, and a great cook.

I have no idea how many people went through our doors over the 15 years or so it was open. Many people came back over and over again...I can only imagine that part of their return was the great conversation and part of it was the homemade cinnamon rolls...pecan muffins...stuffed omelettes...english muffin bread...homemade strawberry jam...biscuits and gravy...mmmmmmmmmm......

Anyway...I digress. :)

My parents are very strong Christians. They always started breakfast off with a prayer. They always went to church on Sundays and Wednesday nights. If guests were planning to come in, they explained that they would be at church and then left the door to the house unlocked and told the guests how to get in (even if they didn't know them).

But above all of that...or maybe because of all that, they got to know people.

My mom would tell me stories about people from Germany, New York, or even others in Missouri. They exchanged recipes and talked about their kids. She kept a world map and put pins on the places where each guest was from. She took a picture of everyone who walked through their doors. She even convinced guests living in and around Dallas to meet up with me once they returned home and deliver the homemade goods she had packed.

My mom found common interests and she connected with people no matter who they were or where they were from. I believe she felt that each person she met had something new to offer her...and, in the process, her conversation must've offered them something as well...or they wouldn't have returned so often.

I appreciate that lesson.

Unifying faith

I grew up thinking that my faith...er...excuse me...my religion...was the only "right" religion.

I knew I was a Christian because I went to church Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night. I had all of my dogma down. As a teenager, I argued with friends over the fact that God created the earth in seven, 24-hour days and I argued that evolution was wrong and didn't exist. I was a good, moral person and very adamant about my beliefs.

Then I went off to college.

I began seeing the world.

I was thrown for a loop when I took communion at a church in Italy and they had wine instead of grape juice! (I had always been taught that any kind of alcohol was sinful!)

When I did an internship in Chicago, I was dumbfounded at the faith of recovering alcoholics who followed the 12-step program better than I followed my Bible...and who truly believed in a "Power greater than themselves."

When I went to Africa, I was taken aback when members of the church walked in, kneeled at the front, and made a "sign of the cross" just like Catholics.

When I moved to Boston, I had to re-evaluate my beliefs as women played important roles in the church.

Yet, no matter who they were, or how they worshipped, I began to see that people had a deep faith. I came to the conclusion that faith was more about actions and interactions than it was about dogma. I recognized that their faith may not be the way I profess my faith and that they may not call their "higher power" God like I do, but we all believe in something greater than ourselves...and what we believe in impacts the way we live.

I came to the conclusion that "different" didn't mean "wrong."

It's exciting to me to think that we can unite knowing that we all have "faith" in common...no matter how we choose to celebrate that faith. Faith that drives a people leads to good things--whether Buddhist, Muslim, Christian, etc. We are not that different.

The Baha'i faith has recognized this and has begun sponsoring Sunday School classes that do just that...bring people of different religions together to learn from each other and learn with each other about virtues. You can read/listen to the segment here: Class Teaches Virtues to Children of Many Faiths.

So many times, I think we bring up economic, racial, religious differences and we talk about "tolerance." I think we need to do more than "tolerate" one another. I have hope that classes like these would take people from "tolerance" and move us toward appreciation and acceptance.

Daverse lounge

Lighted only by glass globes suspended from the ceiling and Chinese paper lamps scattered throughout the room, Daverse Lounge feels as if you are walking into a type of club. There is a low buzz of talking as people stand in line for free Starbucks drinks and then search for a seat.

The environment absolutely amazes and enthralls me--not because of the club-like atmosphere and the free coffee (though free Starbucks is always exciting!). Not because it is primarily for teenagers (though there are a few adults scattered around who go so they can take in the event as well).

Daverse Lounge amazes me because it is the only place I've ever experienced where people can come together and just be. At Daverse Lounge, the environment is set up so that all judgment is suspended. Teenagers come from Highland Park High School to South Oak Cliff and everywhere in between. They come to present their deepest thoughts and emotion in the form of poetry.

Teenagers listen to each other with rapt attention as one speaks of inner struggles and fears as she tries to understand her own sexual preferences. Another has formed a poetic response to girls at school who have told her to lose weight. Still another grapples with her dual identity of being Hispanic and African-American. A 11-year old boy stands up and waxes eloquent for a good 3-4 minutes about the state of our country, the political game we play, and how war is affecting us. Two young men have created a tag team effort to describe their "difficult" life of being "pretty boys" that girls don't take seriously. Yet another young man stands up and speaks of his virginity and his intent to stay pure.

I commend Will Ritchey for bringing it together and creating such an amazing environment where everyone is accepted, applauded, and patted on the back.

It is socially conscious. It is spiritually energizing. It is...

Real.

Honest.

Safe.

Accepting.

Wouldn't it be nice if church had those characteristics??

Food for thought

Food for thought this Sunday morning from Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller:

"We started reading through Matthew, and I thought it was all very interesting, you know. And I found Jesus very disturbing, very straightforward. He wasn’t diplomatic, and yet I felt like if I met Him, He would really like me. Don, I can’t explain how freeing that was, to realize that if I met Jesus, He would like me. I never felt like that about some of the Christians on the radio. I always thought if I met those people they would yell at me. But it wasn’t like that with Jesus. There were people He loved and people He got really mad at, and I kept identifying with the people He loved, which was really good, because they were all the broken people, you know, the kind of people who are tired of life and want to be done with it, or they are desperate people, people who are outcasts or pagans. There were others, regular people, but He didn’t play favorites at all, which is miraculous in itself." Pg. 47


(Talking about watching a woman receiving food stamps):
"I realized that it was not the woman who should be pitied, it was me. Somehow I had come to believe that because a person is in need, they are candidates for sympathy, not just charity. It was not that I wanted to buy her groceries, the government was already doing that. I wanted to buy her dignity. And yet, by judging her, I was the one taking her dignity away.
I wonder what it would be like to use food stamps for a month. I wonder how that would feel, standing in line at the grocery store, pulling from my wallet the bright currency of poverty, feeling the probing eyes of the customers as they studied my clothes and the items in my cart: frozen pizza, name-brand milk, coffee. I would want to explain to them that I have a good job and make good money.

I love to give charity, but I don’t want to be charity." Pg. 84


"One night Rick showed up sort of beaten-looking. He had been to some sort of pastors reception where a guy spoke about how the church has lost touch with people who didn’t know about Jesus. Rick said he was really convicted about this and asked us if we thought we needed to repent and start loving people who were very different from us. We all told him yes, we did, but I don’t think any of us knew what that meant. Rick said he thought it meant we should live missional lives, that we should intentionally befriend people who are different from us. I didn’t like the sound of that, to be honest. I didn’t want to befriend somebody just to trick them into going to my church. Rick said that was not what he was talking about. He said he was talking about loving people just because they exist—homeless people and Gothic people and gays and fruit nuts. And then I liked the sound of it. I liked the idea of loving people just to love them, not to get them to come to church." Pg. 135

Community solutions

Last week I struggled. Struggled with the decision of how four pre-teen boys should face consequences for their actions. I realized that just as a young child doesn't grow up thinking, "I want to be a drug dealer who runs from the police," a parent doesn't raise a child hoping that he/she will do things that warrant them going to a juvenile detention center.

After reading this article, Troubles Mount Within Texas Youth Detention Agency, I am glad we came up with a different solution for the boys who stole the money from the After-School Academy.

After talking to their parents and some wise friends, we decided that we would all (each parent and their boys) go to Smokey John's for Bible study. Smokey hosts a Thursday night Bible study (Warriors for Christ) in his restaurant that primarily focuses on formerly incarcerated men and women. Even though a couple of the boys who stole the money from the After-School Academy denied having any part in stealing the money (despite the fact that they were there and were wrestling over some of the money that was stolen), everyone involved was required to attend.

Only one of the parents showed up (which was disappointing and somewhat frustrating...but not unexpected) and only three of the boys went (which was also frustrating, but considering that the fourth one's attitude would probably have changed the dynamics in not such a positive way, maybe it was good he didn't go). The ride there was somewhat irritating listening to each boy complain, laugh at the situation, and demostrate a cavalier attitude.

Once at Smokey's, Chuck and Conrad (both formerly incarcerated, I believe), sat down with me, their mom, and the boys and began a conversation. I was amazed at the boys' attitudes changed and I was amazed at their rapt attention. I watched the one sitting by me (the one who insisted he shouldn't be there because he wasn't even involved...except for wrestling over the money...which he didn't end up with) lean in closer to catch every word. Chuck and Conrad both talked to the boys, but also asked some thought-provoking questions. Although the boys gave pat answers about how what they did affected them and their community (taken directly from our talk on the way there), it was obvious that they were taking in what was being said.

Though we didn't get to stay the whole time due to yet another family situation that arose while we were there, I was pleasantly shocked when we walked out and all three boys asked, "Do you do this every week?? Can we come back?" I assured them they were more than welcome to come as often as they liked.

Do I think that one night and that one talk solved the problem, changed their thinking, and their actions will be angelic from now on? I'm not that naive anymore.

However, I did notice some things that I think are extremely important to note.

1) Chuck and Conrad were men (one White, one Black). Maybe it was just the fact that they were men. Maybe it was because they had been down the path of prison before. Maybe it was because at least one of them looked like them and could talk their lingo. Maybe it was just because they were gentle and kind, but firm about the consequences. I think it was all of the above.

2) "I'll come. Why not [come again]?! This is better than the projects." (as stated by the kid who "wasn't involved) Some kids recognize that having alternatives keeps them out of trouble. But positive alternatives have to be available (which there are none for teenagers right now in Turner Courts).

3) No matter how genuine and ready-to-change they might be at that moment, it takes a lot of work to help them see their good intentions through. On the way home, I mentioned that I was taking kids on a college trip the next day. Two of them were very excited and said they wanted to go. In that short, 12 hour time period, they either lost motivation, changed their mind, or decided they had better things to do, but they never showed up. After knocking on their doors, one was still asleep and the other didn't answer the phone or door. Maybe something came up. I don't know. I never heard from them (and, yes, they have my phone number). I know this is an uphill battle. It takes a lot of time and investment. This wasn't the first time they have gotten in trouble and, unfortunately, I'm sure it won't be the last. Somehow we need to find ways to support kids who are so easily caught up in the negativity surrounding them.

Despite my frustrations with the parent and the fourth child not showing up, I am still glad we didn't involve the police. I'm definitely not above calling the police, but I wonder how much the juvenile justice system prevents future negative behavior or actually perpetuates it. These boys need adequate solutions as to how to deal with real life situations. I don't know that an over-crowded, under-staffed facility that just maintains the boys' existence and often results in violence and other negative behavior within can offer them that.

Today, I choose to focus on the one parent and the three boys who went to Smokey's and seemed genuinely impacted. I choose to think that at least a seed was planted even if they don't choose to nurture it right now. Life choices are ultimately theirs. But I do believe that in order to raise the chance of making good life choices, we (as a city, a community, a society) have to provide intense support and multiple opportunities for them to be able to make those choices.

Matthew 25:35-46

I was rifling through some old files and found this "modern paraphrase" of Matthew 25 that seems rather relevant these days:

To those on his right, the Ruler will say,
I was deaf, and you learned signs for me;
I was handicapped and you gave me respect and a job.
I was a refugee, and you gave me a new home.
I was obese, and you made room for me.
I was a teenager, and you gave me a voice in decisions.
I was jobless, and you gave me work.
I was poor, and you freed me from bondage.
I was oppressed, and you changed the system.
I was different from you, and you made me your equal.

To those on his left, the Ruler will say,
I was deaf, and you mumbled behind my back;
I was handicapped, and you built revolving doors.
I was a refugee, and you sent me back.
I was obese, and you made thin beautiful
I was ateenager, and you ignored my maturity.
I was jobless, and you gave yourselves a raise.
I was poor, and you raised my rent.
I was oppressed, and you pushed me farther down.
I was different from you, and you made jokes about me.

Lord, when did we see YOU like this?

Whenever you have done this to any human being, you have done it to me.

~by Louisa Baer

After Bible study is over...

Most Thursday nights I end up taking "home" a lady who attends the same Bible study I do. I put "home" in quotes because she is technically homeless. I usually take her to a round-the-clock diner where she gets a cup of coffee and hangs out until someone takes her to the "24 hour Club," a place that provides mats (or a bunk, if you're lucky) to sleep on. She seems to have a male friend or two who she stays with periodically.

Our ride downtown is nearly always the same. We begin by chatting about how much she loves red soda and how she gets her fill of that at Smokey's (the restaurant where our Bible study is held). The conversation then turns to lottery tickets and how much she loves the lottery. Then she always turns to tell me she wants to have "pretty things" like I do. The conversation switches back and forth between lottery tickets and my "pretty things" until we arrive at her destination.

I can handle chit-chatty conversation about red soda. It's a safe topic. However, every time she starts talking about lottery tickets and her enamour with my "things," I get uncomfortable.

First of all, I don't like lottery tickets. They irritate me because I think they're a trap that provides false hope to those who are poor. The promise of possibly being a multi-millionaire, despite the odds, keeps people going back day after day.

I have finally given up trying to convince my friend that she has probably spent way more money on lottery tickets than she has won (or ever will win). I can't decide if she actually spends the money on the lottery tickets or just fantasizes about them. Either way, she knows which ticket plays on what day of the week and she has even informed me about seasonal lottery tickets (I didn't know there was such a thing!). Her obsession with lottery tickets drives me crazy. I never quite know how to respond.

I am thrown off even more when she explains to me (after I try to convince her that lottery tickets are a waste of money) that she plays the lottery so she can have nice things like me. She likes my car. She thinks my earrings are pretty ("and expensive," she is quick to add), even though they are the one of the only two pair I own. She likes the way I dress.

I always try to come up with some good reason for why I have what I do..."I work hard. I saved my money. I didn't buy lottery tickets. I went to college," I tell her. The words seem ridiculous as they come out of my mouth. So much of what I have is because of what grandparents and parents saved for me and what friends have given me. And despite my justification about why I have certain "things," the things I have are a little audacious when I think of what she and many of my other limited income friends have.

I want to justify myself. I mean, come on! Comparatively speaking, I live more modestly than most of the Dallasites.

I tell her it's not about "things." "Things" don't make you happy. But who am I kidding?? If there weren't some type of gratification or ease in having "things," I wouldn't have them! I'm not the one having to beg for rides home from Bible study or having to try to figure out where to stay each night.

I try to explain I have a good job because I went to college. To which she wistfully replies that getting a good education is important, as if knowing that is a good thing, but what good will that do her now that she doesn't have it?

The fact of the matter is that she can't afford even a roof over her head.

I don't know if my friend has ever worked. I'm guessing she may have some type of slight mental illness, though I don't know that for a fact. I really don't know if she is capable of working. My guess is probably not.

So I'm left every Thursday night grappling with the guilt, helplessness, and realization that some people are really struggling in this world with no chance or opportunity to get ahead, even if they want to.

The Parable of the Talents

Matthew 25:14-30

This scripture, along with Luke 19:11-27, has always confused me. It never made sense to me why a person who tried to save the money he was given instead of risking it foolishly would be punished. Jesus talks all the time about those who have been given little, yet in this situation he takes from the one who was given little and gives it to the one with the most.

I had an a-ha moment the other day, though.

The sermons I've always heard on these two scriptures preach not in terms of finances, but in terms of the "gifts" and "talents" we've been given. Preachers/teachers always seem to sidestep the finance issue of this parable and make it into something simpler for us to handle. Though I agree that we do need to use the talents and gifts God has given us...I think He expects that of us, I believe we're letting ourselves off the hook easy by applying this scripture only to non-material "talents." I have come to believe that this passage is about exactly what it says. Jesus expected the people to "invest" their money. What does he mean by that?

Over the past few years I've started looking at my Christianity from a Jesus point of view. How did Jesus handle situations? Who did Jesus interact with? Where did Jesus spend his time?

What keeps coming up over and over is that Jesus spent his time with people. Plain, average people. People who didn't have a lot. People who were condemned by Christians as sinners. People "Christians" didn't want to associate with.

I like Jesus' approach. It makes so much more sense to me. He invested...in people. There is risk involved when you invest in people. It takes a lot of time and effort and even money, sometimes. The returns don't always come back as you expect. But, as in the parable, when we take those risks, the returns are often greater than we can imagine.

By simply taking our money, our time, our resources, and "burying" them...in a bank, in our own luxuries, within our own comfort zones...we are squandering what Jesus has given us.

"To whom much has been given, much is required."

God asks us to invest. An investment in people--financially, relationally, and spiritually--grows exponentially.

Black Jesus

Click on the heading above to see the review for a new movie that's out, Color of the Cross.

I don't go to the movies a lot, so I doubt that I make a big effort to get out and see this one, but what struck me as quite amusing...and actually pretty ludicruous...is the whole idea of it being a controversial movie because Jesus is cast as a Black man.

How do we have the nerve to tell Black people that they need to get past race issues, yet it's us (White people) who are the ones causing an uproar because Jesus is cast as a Black man?! If there were any justifiable uproar, you would think it should be the Middle Easterners getting upset because all of these years we've shown Jesus as a White man with brown hair and brown eyes who reaches out to White children.

Now, I suppose you could argue we were taught to be more inclusive than that. After all, many of us probably grew up singing the song, "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his site." But "talk is cheap," as they say. Go take a look at your Sunday School curriculum. Look at your Vacation Bible School curriculum. Look who is largely represented.

I have to admit, I haven't looked into Sunday School or VBS curriculum in a few years so perhaps it has changed. In fact, the last VBS our kids went to did have pictures of several different ethnic groups. But Jesus was (and is) always White.

On the way home from church several years ago, one of the kids told me, "Miss Janet, I love you!" I told her I loved her, too. Then she proceeded to say, "I'm supposed to say that." Confused, I asked her why. She explained, "Jesus was White and you're White. So I'm supposed to say that." Baffled about her rationale of loving White people because Jesus was White, I wasn't sure how to approach that. I asked her how she "knew" Jesus was White. She looked at me dumbfounded like it was really stupid for me not to know that! She explained, "Because I see pictures of him!" I explained that we have never really seen Jesus and we don't really know what he looks like. She was undaunted. For the rest of the ride home she explained to me all of the pictures she had seen--in her Bible, in the Sunday School lessons, on the windows in churches, etc. It gets a little hard to contradict a 9-year old's reality--because, despite the fact that Jesus grew up in the middle east and never set foot in middle class, White America, that's exactly who he favors in all of our reproductions of him.

I've always heard that Jesus is all things to all people. I don't see why it should offend us that he is represented as Black (especially considering the reality that he was probably closer to Black than White if we look at where he grew up)...unless we are willing to admit that race IS still an issue in 2006.

My friend, Lagean

My friend, Lagean, had asked me to be a part of a new initiative she is starting at our church. I had pulled back from my involvement in church activities over the last couple of years. I was pretty burned out. For a long time, I worked with the kids and I felt like I was by myself in the effort (much of that may have been my own fault). As I mentioned in an earlier blog, our church struggled for a while. Our membership numbers dwindled. But Lagean hung on. She believed in our small church. She believed in what it offered people. She never quit.

Lagean hasn't always been where she is now in her spiritual journey. She will tell you that she has made some mistakes. Yet as our church struggled, Lagean stayed dedicated. She recruited people. She grew herself spiritually and she grew our church. And now she wants to get someething started for our teenagers.

When she asked me, my inside reaction was, "Ugh!" I told her that I would help, but I also told her the only reason I agreed to do it was because of her. Her perserverance, dedication, and friendship inspires me and makes it very difficult to say no.

I ended up having a work-related meeting scheduled at the same time. I thought I had conveniently gotten out of my responsibilities with Lagean. Then my meeting was cancelled. I couldn't lie to Lagean so I called her and told her I would be there. Her excitement and joy, simply because I was going to be present, made me feel special. But, then again, Lagean always makes me feel loved, appreciated, and needed.

Although the meeting started 30 minutes late (that usually bothers me), I enjoyed being in the company of some women leaders whom Lagean had chosen. She had taken the time to include a variety of ages, ethnicities, stages in life, stages in Christianity--and had already decided before we arrived what our roles would be according to our skills and talents. Lagean organized our initial meeting but, moving forward, she asked us all to make the decisions together.

Although I've worked in a leadership capacity and worked with kids and teens for the last 11 years, I could've never pulled that meeting together like Lagean did. I guess a lot of it is her dedication to people that makes us all willing to come out and help. It's her ability to see our assets and what each of us has to offer, instead of focusing on our deficits and what each of us still needs to work on--emotionally, spiritually, etc. Her approach seems the perfect way to build a church--draw on people's strengths and, in the meantime, help them develop beyond their weaknesses.

Since this is our first meeting, I'm not sure how the teen meetings will turn out. But from the meeting yesterday, I have a feeling that the teenagers might not be the only ones growing and learning from this ordeal. I have a feeling that in the process Lagean might be unknowingly (or maybe she has this already planned! :) ) building a strong women's group as well.

I truly am blessed to have a friend like Lagean.

Making a Difference

As I was sitting in church yesterday, I realized that sometimes success comes despite our "mess ups" as well as because of our efforts and good intentions.

This all occurred to me as I listened to a friend of mine lead the communion talk at church. He was reflecting on his past and was telling how five years ago he was unable to stand before a group of people and speak. I remember that time. He had recently gotten out of prison and I guess he hadn't ever really spoken in front of people. Each time he was asked to speak, it was obvious how nervous he was. I remember how we all encouraged him, somehow knowing even then how much he had to offer the rest of us. Some of the people who I think were instrumental in his success have since "messed up." However, despite the fact that some of his "mentors" slipped, he continued developing--spiritually and mentally. Today he is an amazing man who speaks at church, ministers in the prisons, mentors friends, and loves people.

I also thought of another friend who recently relapsed into his drug addiction. He had been clean for quite some time, had gotten married and was a strong leader of our church. When our church membership had dropped dramatically and was struggling a few years ago, he recruited friends and family members to not only attend, but to lead the choir, play the organ, paint the church, clean up after everyone was gone, etc. Yet just last week, he "messed up."

In both situations, leaders "messed up." Yet, in both situations those leaders, despite their faults, had nurtured longer term growth that continued despite their setbacks. Too many times, I think we expect everyone--especially leaders--to be perfect...to not mess up. And when they do, we kick them when they're down. We talk about them. We get disgusted at them. We leave them to fin for themselves in their biggest time of need. I'm not advocating that we excuse wrong behavior. I'm just suggesting that sometimes people know they've messed up

...real bad.

And sometimes what people need is someone to point out the things that they've done well...the footprints they've left and the legacy that continues because of them. And then we need to encourage them to get back up, dust themselves off, and get back on the right path.

I know I've made some big mistakes. However, it encourages me to know that despite me as well as because of me I have done some things right. It gives me hope. I need to know that when I mess up, I have a chance to redeem myself. God is much bigger than I am. In my good moments, when I have done something right, God uses those times to make ripple effects. People I have affected turn around and help others who help others, etc. I need to know that when I mess up, all is not lost. That gives me hope and gives me a reason to

get up,

dust off,

and continue.

Thank the Lord for grace.