Gunshots

This post is about gunshots I heard in my neighborhood one night this week. I hesitate to write about this experience, because I don’t want to reinforce assumptions about my neighborhood: that it’s violent and dangerous and unfriendly. But part of my intention is to analyze those assumptions and what implications they have for our spiritual lives. So for the sake of exploring my transformation through Jesus, I will risk reinforcing your assumptions about my neighborhood.

Here are some reflections paraphrased from my journal the morning after I heard the gunshots:

“Last night as I lay down to sleep, I heard about 15 gunshots. There was a series of several shots, a pause of a few seconds, and then another series of shots. My first reaction was heartbreak and tears. I sat up in bed and was immediately moved to pray for the situation that was probably just 2-3 blocks from my house. I prayed for the victim(s) and the one(s) firing the gun. With no details beyond the sound of shots themselves, I prayed for whatever I could think of.

“This, I thought later in the night, is not the reaction I would have had in the past. To be honest, I have heard gunshots from my home in North Charleston. When I heard gunshots there, my concern was at first for my safety; I was afraid at what could happen to me. I called the police to make sure whatever was happening ‘over there’ wouldn’t spill over to where I was. And, I thought, there was some criminal now on the loose that needed punishing!

“But last night in Southwest Philly, I mourned the situation. It hurt me to know that there was potentially loss of life, that someone had gotten to a point where s/he felt like violence was the only answer, that children lived on that street and were afraid, that my neighborhood would be looked down upon for the sins of a few. Later, when I once more tried to sleep, I was afraid. What if shots came through my window or wall? What if a police chase led the perpetrator to my back yard?

“After sensing my own fear, I was ashamed and returned to mourning: the situation of those directly affected deserved my prayer more than I did.”

Events like these are a part of the Mission Year experience. Something about living amongst the gunshots makes you care more about them. And not just for the victims. We often shun from our prayers those firing the guns, deeming them worthy of judgment and damnation (if not to hell, then at least the death penalty or maybe prison). But I was moved to pray even for the one(s) firing the gun(s).

Being among my neighbors and caring about them has opened my heart from selfish fear to grieving prayer. This is just one (rather extreme) example of how the Lord is using this relocation to transform me. I thank God for the opportunity to experience such transformation.

A Week in the Life of Mission Year

            I hope this blog entry will give you some more clarification about how my life functions while in Mission Year. Our time is rather structured, which at first was difficult for me to submit to, but after one week operating within the structure, I am beginning to see how each component is important to my experience this year. I’ll give you a brief rundown of my week and why each component is included in our schedule.

            Our week starts on Saturday. We spend the morning cleaning our house, which makes me happy. J My team isn’t particularly messy, but with seven people in the house it can get pretty messy in a week. After the house is clean, we go grocery shopping. That’s usually an ordeal. We have planned out all of our meals, so it’s a matter of collecting the necessary ingredients for each meal. We usually try to stay below $100 for all groceries for the week so that later in the week we have a cushion of $17 for anything else we need. The first week was difficult, but this week we actually have food left over, including a 10-pound bag of chicken. Saturday night we host a community dinner, inviting our neighbors to come over. This week we had three teenage girls over who we connected with right away. We had a lot of fun dining together and then played some card games afterward too.

            Sunday morning we go to church, and we have the afternoon free. People usually do laundry, read, hang out with neighbors on the porch, or write newsletters. Sunday evenings we have “points meetings,” which include several key elements: announcements from our team leader, planning groceries for the next week, and one person from our house shares their life story. I’m sharing mine this week. J Sundays we also go through our curriculum. We are all reading a set of books, and during curriculum we go through a set of questions and discuss what we’re reading.

            On Monday we start work at our service sites! I’ll probably post more about mine later, but I’m working at the Center for Digital Inclusion and Technology at an organization in West Philly. I work from 11-6, taking a trolley about 30 minutes north of my house. Even though I start work later, others in my house start at 8:30 and 9. For that reason, we have quiet hour every day at 6:00am. We rotate through sharing a brief devotion (5-15 minutes) and then we spend the rest of the hour in prayer, scripture study, and meditation. I usually take a nap between quiet hour and work. J After work on Mondays, we have a team dinner, all eating together.

            Tuesday is pretty much like Monday, but instead of team dinner we have family night, which looks different each week. Someone different plans it each week, and basically it’s meant to give us time to do something fun together that isn’t too serious. Wednesday we have Bible study at church, and on Thursday we swap between two different activities. Every other week we have training with the two other Philly MY teams, and on the other weeks we have “city-wide,” which has more of a spiritual formation emphasis, still with all MY teams in Philly.

            Friday is our Sabbath! We have nothing planned for Fridays, and we are encouraged to rest, relax, and spent time with the Lord. For your purposes, you probably know it as the day that I get on the internet. We break our technology fast every week on Fridays.

            That brings us back to Saturday! I hope this have given you a good understanding of the flow of my life. The cracks and crevices are filled with reading, journaling, silliness, deep conversations, time outside with kids and their parents, and all manner of other things. It’s a great lifestyle. I encourage you to pick one aspect of it, maybe one day or schedule item, and pray for me and my team. Thanks again for taking the time to read and follow my life!

10 Word Poem

A lot of orientation for Mission Year has focused on identity and living communally across difference. In one recent activity, toward the end of orientation, we were instructed to write a poem that described us or expressed our identity. We could only use 10 words. There were no other expectations or parameters. Just ten words.

Usually I roll my eyes at activities like this, but I've learned over time that it's better to engage with them, even if they seem annoying. I put my pen to my paper and began to process some of the conversations and experiences I've had in the last two weeks, and really over the last four years, when I first really began to consider my identity and its implications for how I interact with society. I ended up liking my poem so much that I'm sharing it with you here! I especially like the simplicity of it.

Maybe later I'll unpack more what I was thinking as I wrote. For now, I'll just leave you with my ten words.

Redeemed white man

Called to reconcile

Finding a voice

Expectant

Redeeming "Missionaries"

A few times I have taken issue with the name “Mission Year,” mostly the “mission” part of it. I’m usually a little uncomfortable being called a missionary. The term can mean different things to different people, but to most people it brings up images of white people in a tribal village in Africa trying to rack up conversion points. That association is painful for me, and it’s one I risk every time I tell someone that I’m in a program called Mission Year.

Although the Africa picture may be a little extreme, I know some of my friends imagine me going door to door in the streets of Philly telling people how they can get a ticket out of hell. No doubt, some of my new neighbors have experienced something like that in the past. One day this week as I was walking in my neighborhood with part of my team, we met a woman on her porch who immediately questioned our presence on her street. (We stick out, if you can imagine.) We were working on creating a map of our neighborhood, one of our orientation activities. As we explained more about what we are doing, including the use of the name of our program, she gave us a sincere and stern warning. Leaning forward in her chair, her eyes widening, she said, “Don’t sell God.” Her tone made it clear that she’d seen the salesmen type of missionaries around before. And they probably looked similar to my team.

Thanking her for the advice, we continued to explain that our intention was to learn how to better love God by loving people, specifically our new neighbors in southwest Philly. Her face brightened up and she sat back in her chair. Our clarification put her at ease and opened up a conversation that lasted about 20 minutes before we headed home for lunch.

Later in the week our pastor spoke at an orientation event. He hosted a MY team last year, too, and when he asked them how he could improve their time at his church, they expressed their discomfort at being referred to as missionaries, similar to my own discomfort. They wanted to dissociate themselves from centuries of colonialism and white ethnocentrism. Understanding their points, he told them that actually it was good for them to be called missionaries precisely because of the history and weight of the term. Especially in a church with many new believers, it was important for him to have “missionaries” that redefined the old term through a lifestyle of love. He sees the only way to rid society of the salesman-evangelist stereotype is to live an alternative “missionary” lifestyle: “If you are the only missionaries my church members encounter, then they have a great understanding of what it means to be a missionary!”

Christians in my generation like to shirk words that have been tainted with the abuse and sin of generations past. The glaring example is distaste for even the label “Christian.” But as my pastor wisely pointed out, rather than change the terminology, we need to redeem it. We have to own the sins of Christians past and live lives of love, which includes cultural sensitivity and ensuring the dignity of our neighbors. (Maybe later I’ll write more about what that looks like for us.)

The mission of Jesus was redemption, and I am excited to redeem the missionary life during my year in Philly. I’m sure my team and I will screw up somehow, but hopefully our neighbors will know our love for them and extend grace to the missionaries on their block this year.

Disconnecting?

Most days when I’m between activities or have a few minutes of time to kill, I turn to my iPhone for entertainment or distraction. Often I will go to my New York Times app to review the latest headlines or read an article that seems interesting. Today I had a moment on the shuttle to do just that and discovered an article discussing a popular YouTube video which drew attention to the fact that human interaction, especially in my generation, is more and more dominated by the presence of 4-inch, hand-held screens such as the one from which I read the article.

Although I encourage you to read it yourself by following this link, it discusses the recent overwhelming tendency to document everything through different social media outlets: “People make dinner reservations on OpenTable; check in on Foursquare when they arrive at the restaurant; take a picture of their food to share on Instagram; post on Twitter a joke they hear during the meal; review the restaurant on Yelp; then, finally, coordinate a ride home using Uber.” But it also discusses pushback against such hyper-connectivity to technology. Some bands are forbidding concert-goers from recording their performances, and some restaurants no longer allow patrons to take pictures of their food. And the video that inspired the article shows dissatisfaction among friends of those recording live performances or posting pictures of food.

I found this article interesting because part of my Mission Year will include embracing a simpler lifestyle that doesn’t include such hyper-connectivity. In fact, I’ll be fasting from all use of technology for the first 7 weeks of my year! Some people ask, “By all technology, what do you mean?” And my response: “All technology.” That means facebook, computer, internet, texting, calling, cell phones, movies—everything. (Yes, I will have my cell phone to use in an emergency, but I won’t be constantly connected to it like I am right now.)

Why the technology fast? Several reasons. Technology can cause many distractions from face-to-face connections. In the MY handbook, it explains that, “Rather than dealing with the issues that you will face as a result of living in a new city and with a community, you will be tempted to ‘escape’ from the issues,” by turning to a movie, a game, or even a phone call to a friend outside of Mission Year. But removing those crutches will help me to remain present in the face of a difficult situation such as a conflict with a Mission Year teammate. 

We also fast from use of technology to be present with those in our new neighborhood, entering into a context that is not as heavily saturated with technology and social media, sometimes because of a lack of access to it. Again, removing those elements from my life will increase my capacity to be present and connect with my neighbors.

Some people can’t handle the idea of completely disconnecting. I must admit that I don’t fully know what to expect. I’m like most people in saying that I appreciate the idea of it, but I’m not sure how it will be to actually practice it. In truth, the principle of being present in my neighborhood means NOT being present with other people that I care about. It will be hard to limit my contact with my family and close friends who are normally just on the other side of a text message or phone call. I’ll even be limited in my ability to engage with friends living in Philadelphia who are NOT in Mission Year. In a way, I’m straddling a line between two worlds.

But the technology fast is not just about denying myself. Disconnecting from one world means connecting to another in new and more genuine ways. The life I have lived so far has not allowed me to connect with a neighborhood like Southwest Philly, and if I'm going to take seriously my charge to love God and love people in that neighborhood, then I need to be fully present and connected to it in every way that I can. I will miss the ability to check my New York Times app for interesting articles such as the one I stumbled upon today. But I think the activities and relationships that will replace it will make it more than worthwhile.

Details!

So here it is! The full and complete answer to the question I’ve gotten so many times, “What will you be doing?”

Well, of course I can’t answer that question fully and completely, but I now have exciting details such as what neighborhood I’ll live in, what church I’ll attend, where I will be working during the week, and who is on my Mission Year team! Take notes so that you have specific people and places to pray for!

Where?

I’m going to live in Southwest Philadelphia (click here for a map)! My neighbors will mostly be African and African-American, mostly working class. Many of the homes there are in the style of “row houses,” where the long, narrow homes are lined up side by side down the block, with a very small front yard and a stoop leading straight to the sidewalk. I will live down the street from my…

…Church!

I will attend Grace Christian Fellowship (visit their website here), “a non-denominational Christian fellowship dedicated to spreading the good news of Jesus Christ and His resurrection to all men, women, boys, and girls.” It has grown from a small Bible study of 22 in the home of Rev. Cean R. James in 2005 to a growing congregation of 250 with a permanent home on Grays Avenue in Southwest Philly. They are committed to reaching the people of their neighborhood with the gospel.

Service Site

I will be serving at the People’s Emergency Center (PEC) (check out their website), an organization that “nurtures families, strengthens neighborhood, and drives change. We are committed to increasing equity and opportunity throughout our entire community. We provide comprehensive supportive services to homeless women and their children, revitalize our West Philadelphia neighborhood, and advocate for social justice.” The services they offer range from emergency, transitional, and permanent housing to employment training, to childcare and healthcare. In addition, PEC is involved in developing and rehabilitating affordable housing and spurring the growth of business in West Philly. They also advocate for policies that protect the working poor and homeless. Although the details are not yet set in stone, I'll be working in the digital literacy programs designed to "bridge the digital divide." (visit the digital literacy website) I'm very excited to join alongside what PEC is doing to pursue change in West Philadelphia!

Finally…

Team Members!

These are the people I’ll be living with for the next year! I am excited to be able to experience so much with them in the next year. We will pray together, be discipled together, eat together, walk together, learn to love in so many new ways, and so much more! Learn their names and faces by visiting their personal donation pages:

Priscilla Bui

Walter Levi Wawra

Sophilia Hubbard

Denise Lee

Nicole Roberts

and my alum team leader, Isabella Fout

Start following their blogs now and over the course of the year get a different angle on my life in Philadelphia, through their eyes!

When?

Here’s my somewhat complicated schedule:

• Visit Atlanta friends August 30-Sept 6
• Mission Year national orientation in Houston Sept 6-Sept 11
• Mission Year Philly orientation Sept 11~Sept 18
• Start living the Mission Year life ~Sept 18!

Thanks so much for praying through these things and taking the time to walk with me along my MY journey.

Gratitude and Humility

After this week, I am ever so close to finishing my fundraising for Mission Year! A couple of events pushed me so close that I can taste it! One was last Sunday when my family and I hosted several friends, many of whom have already supported my Mission Year financially, for a graduation and send-off party. We intended it to be a time for me to connect with friends in Charleston before I leave in a couple of weeks, and to thank the many people who have supported me so far.

The first guests arrived promptly at 3:00, the starting time of my drop-in. For some reason, I was surprised when they handed me an envelope. Now I realize that it is customary to bring a gift to a party celebrating a momentous life occasion such as graduating from college. But for some reason I didn't expect that this time. As more and more guests piled into our somewhat cramped home, most of them presented envelopes upon arrival, and suddenly I had a large stack piling into a chair near the front door, the impromptu gift depository. At one point I had a couple of minutes in between conversations to consider that each envelope probably had a check inside (also customary for a graduation party). I felt tears well up that I quickly suppressed. I know it was my party, but I didn't want to cry.

The tears were of gratitude, something that I have felt over and over throughout my fundraising process. And that is a rather different reaction from four years ago when I graduated from high school. My family hosted a party then, too, but at that party I was counting the number of envelopes as they piled up. I couldn't wait to open them and total up the money I had “earned” by graduating from high school.

That old sense of entitlement seeped into my Mission Year fundraising at first. I have raised thousands of dollars of support for several different endeavors, so committing to Mission Year and $12,000 of fundraising wasn’t overwhelming to me, even though it is by far the largest sum I’ve attempted to raise. I have been a part of many churches that taught me by example the meaning of generosity. So I had complete expectation that they would teach me again how the Lord equips those He calls. But the faith the Lord has given me is not always seasoned with humility or gratitude.

That’s where the (almost) tears came from. Raising $12,000 offers a lot of opportunity for humility and gratitude. Here are a few of them:

One of the very first people to make a donation was a friend from freshman year that I had not kept up with as much as I always wished I did. Even though we hadn’t spoken in months, he promptly made a donation online when I first announced my commitment to MY. I might expect that from a Christian friend who shared my same passion for justice (one such acquaintance from church made a $200 donation). This friend does not fit that description. I was humbled by the gift coming out of the blue toward a mission that didn’t match the giver.

Several students still in college have given $50, $100, and even $200! Granted, I went to a private school where most students have wealthy families, but it’s still humbling to have peers--college students--give that much!

Even more humbling is to hear the story of a friend and financial supporter whose life has been marked by tragedy and, in its wake, financial hardship. After sharing about how the Lord has shown His faithfulness through the provision of others, she handed me an envelope with $100 inside. In the midst of hardship, she had learned the importance of generosity. Let me tell you, it’s humbling to receive from the humbled.

Other college friends gave out of their hard-earned summer paychecks, some with large, one-time gifts and others with smaller gifts out of each paycheck over the course of the summer. Knowing how precious that cash can be, I was humbled.

Also humbling are the gifts of family friends whose love is rooted in memories of me as a child. Their support has always been there, and only now do I appreciate it.

It is really those that give on a regular basis that draw out the most gratitude. Several dear friends and family members have been giving for several months now, becoming my largest financial supporters. Although I am tempted to feel entitled to those monthly gifts, they also hold the greatest potential for humbling me because they came once…and then again. And again. And again! And they continue to come. Each gift is more humbling.

And finally I’ll share the second event that pushed me very close to finishing fundraising. On Wednesday night, my church home for this summer, First Baptist Church of Ravenel, voted to give $1,200 toward MY expenses! What an unexpected blessing, another humbling experience.

And that’s where I am now. I’ve been hit with generosity so many times that I couldn’t handle the sight of the envelopes sitting in that chair by the door last Sunday. In fact, I delayed opening them for a bit to keep from facing it. But gratitude and humility are not to be staved off. Thank you to all of my supporters, from the $5 one-time giver to the $100 monthly giver, for so many opportunities for gratitude.

Stay tuned for another post about all of the fun details I’ve recently learned about what I’ll be doing during my year in Philadelphia!