Real Hope in Chicago

I was having a conversation with the Dean at Northern Seminary, and she asked, "Have you ever heard of the Lawndale Community and Wayne Gorden?"

When I said that I hadn't, she began to tell the story. I listened in that way you listen when something seems too good to be true. "Surely, this story was embellished? Surely, all this can't be true. Surely, I would have heard of it?" Nope. It's all true.  It IS too good to be true, and I hadn't heard of it.

She told the story of Wayne Gorden, a grain-fed Iowa boy who felt God's call to work in the inner city. After graduating from Wheaton, Gorden took a job at Farragut High School in the Lawndale community in west Chicago. High crime, low money, and lots of despair. The community was the poster child for urban blight. Gordon taught history and earned the nickname he still goes by today, "Coach." Coach Gorden wanted to make a difference in this community. He truly believed that the community didn't have to be the way it was.  By the grace of God, it could be different.

It started innocently enough.  He began to lead Bible studies with his players, and they began to talk about what could be done to change the Lawndale community. They asked the group of students and others, "Why don't people go to church?" Four main reasons were given:

1. They didn't have nice clothes
2. They didn't have money to give
3. They were angry at God
4. The church wasn't doing anything in the community

So, Coach and that small group of believers started the "Lawndale Community Church" in 1978.  You can wear what you like. You can give money if you would like, but no plate is passed. You can come and learn the true power of the gospel.  And with dreams of changing the world, they started with a single washer and dryer which provided a safe place to wash clothes.  That need (and solution) came from the community. They saw a need, and (miraculously) God met that need.

Over the past 30+ years, they have recognized more needs, and they have started more ministries. They started the Hope House to help those battling drug addiction. The began reclaiming and restoring houses and apartments. They have creative ways to provide home ownership for families to help them cover closing costs and apartment opportunities for people who need help saving up for a down payment.  They have after school programs for kids and summer camps (their Garden Club). They have a nice size, multipurpose auditorium, but they have to meet in the gym for worship on Sundays (and they have to have two services) because of the numbers.

When I visited two weeks ago, I got to see one their first rate medical clinics, their gym, refurbished houses & apartments.  I ate lunch at Lou Malnati's, and enjoyed great Chicago style pizza. You wouldn't expect a restaurant of that reputation to be located in a community like Lawndale, but Coach told the owners that Lawndale didn't have a good place to sit down an eat, so they should open their tenth restaurant in Lawndale as a tithe to God. The owners did.

I met ministers in leadership roles in the church who a decade ago were in the Lawndale Hope House battling drug addiction. 

A few years ago, Northern Seminary provided opportunities for people in this area to continue education.  Some of the courses on community development in the seminary curriculum were offered in the Lawndale facility.  Seminary students began taking classes along with community ministers and residents who wanted to earn a certificate. These ministry and community development classes have been received very well, but when Northern asked what else they could offer, the resounding answer came back, "We want more Bible!"

This fall, I will be teaching the very first "Exploring the Bible" class offered in the Lawndale community on Monday nights as an adjunct for Northern Seminary. This is going to be a busy fall (I am already teaching an extra class at Judson!).  But I couldn't say no.  There is something special about that place.  A miracle has taken place. God is moving, and I just have to be there. I came home from my visit humbled, challenged, convicted...

I was humbled because I had witnessed the actual transformative power of the gospel. I saw grace. Real, tangible, transformative, powerful grace. I saw it. I shook grace's hand. I ate its pizza. I saw its gym. I wanted to stand there, just hoping that a little grace would splash on me. Just let me have the crumbs that fall from the table. It was moving in a way I hadn't been moved in some time.

I was challenged and convicted as well. You see, I saw the limits of this revitalization.  I saw where houses and apartments fell into disrepair again. Coach's influence ends, and the blight remains. After seeing what happened in Lawndale, all I could think was, "But it doesn't have to be this way." We can get so cynical and want to throw up our hands and give up. "What can we do?" "It's always going to be this way." "That's just the way it is."

No. I have seen that it doesn't have to be that way. There are still miracles. I have seen them.

I look forward to this fall (and it scares me a little too). My family and I were invited to worship with them some Sunday, and I can't wait. 

Coach put the story of the Lawndale Miracle in a book about a decade ago. "Real Hope in Chicago" is a great story...even greater when you remember that the miracle has continued for over a decade afterward and is continuing. The story of my trip to Lawndale is much like any story of an encounter with Christ. I was amazed, convicted, empowered, and I will not be the same.

 

"...we were there, taking it all in—we heard it with our own ears, saw it with our own eyes, verified it with our own hands. The Word of Life appeared right before our eyes; we saw it happen! And now we're telling you in most sober prose that what we witnessed was, incredibly, this: The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us." 1 John 1:1-2 (The Message)

 

A Time to Reflect

A friend asked me the other day, "So, are you working this summer?" (the college professor's 9-month contract often inspires such questions)

I responded with my usual, "Well, I have an article I want to get together, a book review to write, and a presentation for a national meeting in November.  I also have some classes this fall that I haven't taught before.  Those syllabi will take some time to get together."

It is true, the summer is the time when professors are supposed to maintain whatever research agenda they can.  It provides the long stretches of uninterupted time that you don't have during the school year.  But one of the things I think I treasure most about the summer is the time to reflect.   Without the impending deadlines, committee meetings, student meetings, classes (all of which I do love or I wouldn't do this with my life), summer provides a moment to think.

It sounds kinda silly I guess.  We think all the time.  But I mean really THINK.  I am reminded of the wonderful, old Trappist monk at the Abbey of Gethesemane who urged me to "Store up some silence while you visit, so you can write checks on it when your life gets busy."  Summer is a time to deposit some more silence into my account.

Life still provides noise, and some of it is good noise.  I am the summer "cruise director" for the boys.  But let me take a moment to say that I am convinced "Phineas and Ferb" have provided unrealistic expectations for what a summer should be!  But I love our trips to the museum or throwing the frisbee or just riding in the car. 

But thankfully, summer also provides that time to simply and think and reflect.  Evaluate what worked over the past year.  Evaluate what didn't and why. Maybe even write a blog or two. 

I am grateful to have a job where there are still "seasons." I can take this time of fallow and prepare for the planting.  My prayer is that everyone (no matter their profession), can find some time to store up some silence and take time to reflect.  Some may call it "boredom."  I call it Sabbath.

Little Town of Bethlehem

“I traveled to the U.S.…every summer to meet with family at that time, and I met with many people in the U.S. And nobody knew anything about our situation. Nobody knew what a Palestinian was. Bethlehem was Israel for many people. Even Bethlehem was how people saw it in the Bible.”—Sami Awad, Palestinian Christian

I hope you will take the time to read my review of the movie "Little Town of Bethlehem" at Associated Baptist Press.

Dangers of Reading the Bible

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."

Uncle Bilbo was a wise hobbit. His lessons apply to so many areas of life. I thought of this quote after a wonderful conversation I had with a student.

[Warning: In the following true story, the names have not been changed because the innocent said it'd be okay to use them].

Among my other responsibilities, I have been teaching freshman in a "Intro to the Bible" in some form or another (OT, NT, or OT+NT) every semester for the past 12 years. Like most professors, I have had students who grew up in Sunday School and are expecting to ace every test because they "love Jesus." In fact, when we begin teaching things that aren't covered in Sunday School like form criticism, the invasion of Tiglath-Pileser III and its impact on reading Isaiah 7, or how the Bible came together, then the students who struggle the most are the students who had been the most active in church.

Some of them shut down, believing that if their pastor didn't think it was important, then they won't either. Some of them keep struggling and wrestling to reorient their faith to make room for these new ideas. "Wait, form criticism can inform faith?" "Textual criticism isn't antagonistic to faith?" "The Enuma Elish helps me understand Genesis 1?!"

One concept that is challenging to them every semester is the discovery that the authors of the biblical text were aware of and used other Near Eastern texts to make their point. This is shocking! Scandalous! PLAGIARISM!!! (It really shouldn't be that upsetting. After all, we are products of our culture--called to transform it, but when the biblical authors do it, it's a problem). I usually have to shepherd the students through Genesis 1 after discovering the connections with the Enuma Elish and the flood story after discovering the connections to the Atrahasis Epic and Gilgamesh. The biblical transformation of these other Near Eastern documents is beautiful and rich, but challenging to the first time reader.

I assumed we had worked through most of those issues this semester, and as I worked through Proverbs, I talked about the book of Proverbs borrowing from the Instruction of Amen-em-opet almost as an afterthought. What I didn't realize was that one of my students had been struggling since creation (literally), and this was one literary source too many.

"This bothers me, Dr. Wallace! Why not just add whatever we want to the Bible!? How can the authors just keep borrowing like this!?!"

Trying to help, I said, "Maybe this will help. Some people believe that Paul incorporated early Christian hymns into his letters. Does that bother you?"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"Um, okay," I said, "What about those Christian T-shirts that look like something secular, like Budweiser, but is says something oriented toward God, like 'God makes one wiser'"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"That's totally different?" I said, "That is exactly what the biblical author is doing!"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"Okay, okay," I said, "'It is totally different.'"

I thought for a minute and said, "Michelle, can God save you?"

She said, "What?"

I said, "Can God save you?"

"Yes," she said tentatively.

"Wait a minute," I said, "Someone as secular and worldly as you can be transformed into something that witnesses to the grace of God in this world."

In a wonderful response, she paused and said, "I see where you're going, Dr. Wallace."

She felt a little better, but she stayed after class, to talk more about the issues. The topics ranged from textual criticism, why some Bible translations have some verses, but others don't, more form criticism, canon, authorship, inspiration. None of it seemed to make her feel any better, and truthfully, she was probably spiraling down a little. Finally, in a desperate attempt to help, I said, "Michelle, one thing you can remember and that should give you hope is that I know all of these things, and I still have a deep and abiding faith!"

In what might be the best response EVER given to me by a student, she said, "I had a deep and abiding faith, too, and then I read the Bible!"

I laughed involuntarily. But she continued...

"I used to think it was a good idea to read the Bible. 'My friend's having a hard time, they should read their Bible.' And, I am like, 'NO, DON'T DO THAT!! Here, read this list of scriptures, but don't go flipping around.'"

[This feeling was confirmed last night when Daniel heard me mention something about a drunk and naked Noah. When he asked what I meant, I explained the ending of the story of Noah. He responded, "Wow. Now I know why they just told us the story in church and didn't read it from the Bible."]

The next day some students and I were talking about Michelle's struggle. One of them commented, "Yeah, I know what she's going through. It's not even what the Bible says, but, boy, when you find out what that means!"

William Tyndale lost his life for the right for each of us to hold a Bible in our hands in our language. Now, my students and my son are questioning the wisdom of that. My wife commented with a laugh, "Makes you think the Catholics might have had a point. They didn't want just anyone picking up the text without training."

Of course, the alternative is to stay in your nice, safe theological place--never challenged, never moved. You can be absolutely certain of what you believe, know all the answers, and never doubt. But I don't like people who have all the answers, and I don't trust people who have all the answers. If you can't say, "I don't know," I don't trust your reading. The people of Judah just knew that God was on their side. They were the chosen people after all. God wasn't, he was on the side of Nebuchadnezzar. The Pharisees just knew that Jesus wasn't the messiah. They could give you chapter and verse to prove it. I think they were wrong, too. The disciples made light-year leaps forward when they were able to say, "I don't know as much as I thought I did."

So, I will shepherd my students through their crises as I do every semester. I will help them see how this new material can fit in a growing life of faith. And I will pray they will be able to say, "Wow, I didn't know as much as I thought I did."

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door . . . " That is true. But I believe it is better than staying closed up at home.

Advent Sunday

I have shared many times how Advent saved Christmas for me (just recently in fact). This Sunday of Advent, I am trying catch my breath more than I am trying to reflect on the hope that comes with the incarnation. This past week is busier than most. My professional meeting always meets the weekend before Thanksgiving (this year it was in Atlanta). The family thanksgiving, a family trip to the Museum of Science and Industry, driving my mom back to her home, and driving back this morning...it has been a busy week. And I have to get a stack of grading done, and I have a number of extra, professor responsibilities this week, and . . . and . . . It isn't really a good week for reflection.

At my meeting in Atlanta, I went to the "Blogging & Online Publication" session. As I listened to the interesting papers and how "information exchange can happen instantly," I thought of the good ol' days when information exchange took a little longer. Articles were written. Articles were read. If you had comments to make, you had to write them up and submit them (you couldn't just write them under the article on the website). If you had an opposing view, you had to put together a well thought out, well-reasoned response so that the journal would publish it. Time passed. Thinking could take place. Reflection could lead to new insights. I wonder if these days we have enough time to really process all that we receive. I wonder if we have given up on "wisdom" in favor of the accumulation of more and more "knowledge."

Of course, as the great philosopher Billy Joel reminds us: the good ol' days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems.

This hasn't been a good week for reflection, but maybe that is why it is a good week to reflect. Advent reminds us that in the busiest time, the word became flesh. When there were a million of other things to do, the word became flesh. When the world didn't want to take time to notice, the word became flesh. It is time to experience the most important event in history. But the urgent begins to push out the important, and the urgent can even mask itself to seem more important. Black Friday is apparently a big deal, and if I don't participate in it, I am missing part of what it takes to celebrate the holiday. "Be Thankful for Clearance Sales"and "Be Thankful for Savings" are just two examples of how the hte urgent tries to mask itself as important.

Maybe after some reflection, I can say that my life will be just as rich without a cheap DVD player. Maybe the "Buy Nothing Friday" social justice movement is on to something. Or as the Grinch said, "What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?"

Of course, that would take stopping and reflecting.

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Christmas Fast

I didn't grow up in a liturgical church. We had a church calendar but it was never expressed formally. Where many churches have a liturgical calendar that celebrates Advent (the coming of the Christ), Epiphany (the visit of the Magi), Pentecost (the coming of the Spirit), and other events around the life of Jesus and the early church, my church's liturgical calendar looked more like this: Mother's Day, Memorial Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, etc. If you don't believe those were formal events in the year of church, watch what happens to the Baptist pastor who doesn't celebrate Mother's Day in worship.

After I got married, Cindy and I joined a church that celebrated Advent, and it honestly saved Christmas for me. Christmas might be good for the economy, but it was really bad for my faith. Taking a moment each week to remember the coming Christ was like water to a soul made barren by the commercial, capitalistic pursuits of the world. The liturgical calendar really opened up a whole new world for me--a world organized by the life of Jesus.

I was particularly fascinated by Lent and the power of the fast. Naturally, "fasting" was not something that I understood coming from my faith tradition either. Fasting can serve a number of purposes in the life of a person. As an Old Testament professor, however, I think the one function of fasting that means the most to me is the power it has to reveal idolatry.

Over the years, we have tried to celebrate Lent as a family. When we talk about what to give up, I find that some things are not on the table. Cindy: "What about TV?" Me: "Um, no, March Madness. Can't miss March Madness." Cindy: "What about meat?" Me: "Um, no, can't give up meat. I would go hungry, I think." Me: "How about sweets? Something challenging, but not too challenging."

Pretty effective indictment of my faith, and it's a pretty clear indication of where some of my idols lie. What has power over me? What controls me? Could I really give up March Madness, take up my cross, and follow? Maybe (not yet, but maybe).

In the Eastern Church, November 15 traditionally began a Christmas fast. Like most fasts, it focused on diet. In our culture, as the Christmas marketing ramps up into full swing, maybe we should recover (and discover) the practice of the Christmas fast. Maybe we could give up those things that so easily hinder us and our faith.

What is it that I can't give up this time of year? What is it you can't imagine your life without? Football? Fudge? Wassail? I can't speak for everyone, but I imagine a Christmas fast would do my faith a world of good.

Generations on the Job Market

A generation in the Hebrew Bible is forty years. A generation for iPods is about a year. A generation for someone with a PhD is about 4 years.

I come up with that number because that is about the how long it takes before the current grad students don’t know the incoming grad students because they aren’t in courses with them anymore. For some, that is how long it takes to get done with your dissertation. Once you get that first job that is exactly how long it takes to move your young freshman from orientation to graduation.

I have spent about 3 generations on the job market. In Fall of 1998, I started teaching as an adjunct professor at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. It was about that time I began combing the internet for any institution, anywhere that might have a full time position who might hire someone who was All But Dissertation (never mind that I wasn’t ABD at that point—but hey you had to dream).

Back then, I was pretty convinced I could do anything. “Gen Ed Interdisciplinary Core with an Area of Competency in Asian Religions?” Sure, I had a course in Asian Religions, I can do that! “Hebrew Bible with an Area of Competency in Rabbinic Judaism?” Sure, I can do that . . . maybe. “Women and under represented groups encouraged to apply” Well, maybe I can’t do EVERYTHING.

Of course, over time I got more realistic with my application packets, more accepting of my ding letters and absolutely ritualistic checking the openings websites. For years, the “Openings” website would update the first of every month. I stayed up till midnight at the end of many months waiting for the openings to click over, only to see one (maybe two) Hebrew Bible postings in the United States (and one in Germany). Of course, I received many, many, MANY ding letters:

“We thank you for your interest in the servile, low-paying position at Hole in the Wall Community College, Fairbanks, Alaska. We had many qualified candidates and have narrowed the list and you aren’t among the finalists.”

When I finally got the job at Shorter, I knew the time was coming when I wouldn’t be welcome there. Many of us assumed it would be a one year posting. We were afraid the Georgia Baptists would come in with guns blazing and clean house in the Religion department. Thankfully, they took their time. It was 5 years before I was told my presence would no longer be welcome in the classroom.

Everyday for five years, I came into work. I turned on my computer. I opened the “Openings” web pages: Chronicle of Higher Education, Society of Biblical Literature, Inside Higher Ed, etc. Every now and then an opening would be interesting. Every now and then I would get an interview. Every now and then it would come down to me and one other candidate . . . and the school would go with the other candidate.

Every day. Every morning. It was more than habit—it was liturgy—it was an act of prayer. It was how I maintained some measure of hope. I tried to be present in my present, but in my heart I was looking for a place where I felt there could be a future.

Next week, I am going to the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature. For twelve years, I have gone to this meeting looking for a job. This year I am not. It has been a weird experience. This is what it is like to be content? This is what it is like to not be looking every day for an opening?

I walked across the Judson University campus on this absolutely beautiful fall day, and a smile came across my face. Yes, it is a different world than I have known, but I think I can get used to this.