DS3 Blogging

Cutting Edge Ministry

I used to think that cutting edge ministry had to do with loud, rhythmic music, intelligent lights and cool videos with relevant messages. I used to believe that the best thing I could do for the kingdom of God would be to join a dynamic church, attend as many conferences as I could pay for and rack up a full library of books on missional living and rethinking church. My views on cutting edge ministry have been shifting as I have continued leading and serving 18 to twentysomethings. But within the last month, a series of conversations have forever changed how I will define 'cutting edge ministry'. These conversations have been focused around an outreach to  kids in a neighborhood nearby called Silver Creek.

Silver Creek is an apartment community just off of Atlantic Blvd. Most of the kids at Silver Creek are immigrants to the US. They come from countries in Africa, southeast Asia and the Arabian peninsula. They along with their families are in our country seeking refuge from genocide, famine, disease and other circumstances. They have arrived in the US with little to no English, a limited understanding of western culture and few dollars to spend. Silver Creek is not only a community of international residents, but it is also a low income area with a significant crime rate.

For the last couple of years, members of the A218 community have been getting up on Sunday mornings and taking a drive down to Silver Creek to pick up kids and bring them to church. Folks such as Jackie Tatje, Katie Ullman, Mike Thompson, Sarah Culver and a list of other peeps have faithfully picked up these kids and brought them to CrossRoad Church where they have received breakfast and lunch (sometimes the only meals they would get in a weekend) and participated in an awesome kid's program. Many of these volunteers have talked about how personally rewarding this ministry has been for them as well as for the kids. They've found themselves identifying with Jesus who said, 'my food is to do the will of Him who sent me and to accomplish His work.' Every now and then, you'll see subtle yet significant changes in the kids. From what A218 folks have said, the joys of being a part of the this outreach cannot be matched. But there have also been lows.

The kids in Silver Creek have dealt with extreme issues such as severe hunger, war, separation of families, and abuse at a level that we in the US have never had to face in real time. They have seen things that we cannot imagine. As their young minds process and reconcile these images and memories, they manifest in behavioral issues that can become taxing after awhile. The kids love coming to CRC on Sundays, but they have at times been hard to control and even disruptive to the kid's program. Needless to say, there have been some A218 folks who who are no longer involved in this outreach. After a while, the stress takes it's toll. Possibly the hardest part has been the lack of 'thank you's' that come from the kids at the end of the day. (It's not that they are not thankful, it's that they are kids) In the last several months, it has been hard to find people to pick the kids up consistently. Some have even wondered if it is time to end our ministry to the kids of this community.

About a month ago,  I was asked to come chat with Carolyn Nelson (CRC Children's Ministry Director) and Scott Crawford (CRC Community Life Pastor) regarding the outreach and particularly the involvement of the A218 Community. I have been watching the outreach from afar and was convinced that while it was a good thing for a while, it's time may have come and gone. I was ready to walk into the meeting and say that it was time to end the Silver Creek outreach (and underneath this was a thought of getting back to real 'cutting edge' ministry.) Within the first 5 minutes of this meeting, everything changed for me. I heard Carolyn's passion for these kids and her inability to believe that this outreach had to end. I listened as she explained how great an opportunity this was for us as a church and for these kids. I begin to see what she saw...if we can reach these kids, we could reach their families and possibly that entire community. If we reached Silver Creek, we could be reaching the world. As I allowed Carolyn's words to break down my resolve, I heard the Spirit say, 'this is cutting edge ministry Derrick...get with the program.'

As of that meeting, I am now involved with the Silver Creek outreach. I don't feel comfortable around kids and my Sunday routine makes it a little difficult to devote lots of time to the kids each week. But what I realized at that meeting was I did have gifts that could help this outreach. I can talk, I can recruit, I can lead and I can inspire. Instead of saying what I (and we) couldn't do, I started asking and praying what can I (we) do. I am beginning to see what this outreach could become if we continue to be faithful with it. I have never had more hope and passion for this outreach. In fact, I believe it might be one of the most important things I will give my time to over the next year.

Last Sunday, I sat with the kids during breakfast. The kids were awesome (probably because Carolyn made pancakes). At the end of their time at CRC, I walked with them to the cars. I've been told that load up at the end of Sunday morning can be quite difficult. As we were convincing the kids to get in a car, stay in a car and buckle up, one of the little girls told me that she would sit down if I spelled her last name. If you know me, you can imagine the blank look on my face when I couldn't even say her first name (and even now I cannot remember it). She eventually sat down and buckled up, but never heard another thing from me. Now I know that God has not forgotten her name or her story. But I don't know her name, and I've been too busy to hear her story. And that doesn't sit well with me. And I am glad that it doesn't.

Do you wanna be a part of a cutting edge ministry to refugee kids? Would you like to be the tangible expression to these kids that God knows their name and cares about their story? It may not be an issue of what you can't do, it may be an issue of offering yourself so these kids  can experience the love of God and grace-filled Jesus-community. If you feel drawn to the outreach at Silver Creek in any way, drop me an email.

Haiti Reflection #3: A Black Man in Haiti

On the first real morning in Haiti, one of the RMI guys asked Greg (our trip leader) if I was Haitian. I was shocked by this at first because I assumed that I obviously looked American. During our trip, someone in the village would walk up to me and ask me a question in Creole. I always responded with 'I do not speak Creole, I am sorry'. Most would give me a strange look at first, then smile with an 'Oh yeah' kind of expression. The most ironic moment was during our children's program when a little girl, no more than 4 years old, comes straight to me, speaking in Creole, with what looks like a small crisis going on in her head. The irony is that Amy Long, a white girl who knows a little bit of Creole, immediately stepped in and the little girl forgot all about me. I thought it would be obvious that I was not Haitian, but apparently, that was not always the case.

As we continued to hang out, it became understood that I was indeed an American with very little Creole and very limited (and very mediocre) French. I wondered what they thought of me as a Black American coming to them. I even wondered if they were disappointed that I didn't know more about their culture even though I looked so much like them. I had (and still have) fear that not being more familiar with their culture would be offensive, but I was not exactly sure how to fix it.

I had a conversation about these thoughts with Benjamin, one of the RMI guys and a Haiti native. I was surprised to find out that many Haitians (including  Benjamin himself at one point) believed that the US was a place only for white people. They thought that the only people who could truly live and thrive in the US were European descendants. So when they see someone like me, a Black man, coming from the states, leading meetings and looking fairly healthy...it gives them hope about life outside of Haiti, and the potential for those of us with African ancestry.

While in Tiburon, I led a number of youth/young adult meetings. My goal was to inspire them to live for Christ and be the Church today while they are young. One of the guys who attended was named Harold. Harold is an artist and works in the Tiburon Children's school. After the meeting, he commented to Amy that he enjoyed hearing me speak. Amy pressed him for more specifics and his comment back to her was 'he looked like me'. It had not really dawned on me, but chances are the number of Black Americans who come in on missionary teams to this country is probably smaller than one would think. What an honor to connect with Harold in such a unique way.

I cannot believe I am gonna say this, and I hope this comes out okay. But as I continue to make trips to Haiti, I hope God uses the fact that I share a common ancestry with these people to be a point of contact and a source of hope. I pray that when they see me, they really see that they can do more than I have ever done. I hope that my Black face is inspiration for them to dream big and believe God that those dreams really can come true. Then maybe one day, they'll be able to inspire others who not only share ancestors but also nationality to trust the God who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all they could ask or think. All praise and glory to the Good God!

Haiti Reflection #2: My friend Amos

I went to Haiti for two reasons. 1) Because I cannot act as if I did not hear God tell me to go (and I have said it many times, I was not excited about going at first.) 2) I have a deep desire to see young adults all over the world inspired to be the Church today, make a positive impact on the planet and advance the kingdom. These two reasons in my spirit were enough to get me on the plane. I did not expect anything more than a confirmation of these two reasons. And as I write these reflections, I can honestly say they were confirmed.  However, these two reasons were not as compelling as they sound nor did I expect their confirmations to be. I could see God telling me to go to Haiti to expand my worldview (like prerequisites for a major in college) and sending me to the young adults in Tiburon in order to fulfill my general calling to lead this generation, regardless of location and culture. I was not expecting to have the moment I am about to describe.

On Saturday morning, we painted the Church. When I say we, I mean our team, the RMI guys (the organization we work with in Haiti), and a whole lot of men from Tiburon Church. All I can say about this event is that it felt like Church...no worship songs or message, but Church none the less. Who knew that a little yellow paint could bring people together the way that it did that morning? It makes me smile just thinking about it.

During the painting day, I met Amos. Amos is a rockstar...he just doesn't know it. I met him as we were painting. We were actually competing for the same spot as we were both just desperate to do something significant with our remedial painting skills. The amount of English that Amos knew was equal to the amount of Creole I knew. And we both stumbled around the little French we knew. So we just smiled and kept avoiding each other's painting space. When I finished, about to go find something else to do, I looked at him, smiled and said 'great to meet you'. He smiled and replied with 'ou', meaning yes. At that moment, I believe (cuz I am never quite sure) I heard the Holy Spirit say, 'Amos is why I brought you here to Tiburon'.

I will explain the significance of that moment in a second. But from that moment, every time I saw Amos (and we saw each other a lot), we had a regular exchange of 'ca va'  (meaning are you well and I am good). Other than that, we did not say much. Just a lot of smiling and fist pounding...but that was more than enough to develop a strong unmistakable bond of friendship. No matter what the event was, I looked for Amos. And if Amos was in the room, he always found me first. I kind of got used to walking out of my bedroom in the morning and seeing him sitting outside...and I was told he was waiting there to see me. I was just as excited to see him. I spent a lot of time with Amos this week.

I'll be honest...I wanted Amos to come back to the states with me and be my 16th brother (you know I have 15 brothers and sisters). I wanted to bring him back to Jacksonville and show him everything I have ever seen. I wanted him to have the same inspirational experiences that have shaped me and challenged me to live a life of purpose. There is a call on this young man's life, but I know that his quality of life and lack of exposure will play a role in his inability to see it.  I made lots of friends in Tiburon this week...but none of them affected me like Amos. I will be coming back to Tiburon for many reasons, but primarily, so I can see Amos again. If you could see my boy smile, you would understand why.

It is great to go places because my job and calling demand it. Great to experience new cultures and deepen my understanding of the world. It is humbling to know that God often pulls us into His heart so that we can see the people that He loves so dearly. But all of these can easily be detached from real relationships and connections. After all, it is one more plane ride, one more cultural nuisance, and one more ministry opportunity.  But when you hear God say, 'I sent you here for a person', it changes everything. You have no idea how that one moment reshaped the entire context of my Haiti trip. How being sent for one person made all of the inconveniences almost unmentionable sacrifices. From now on, when I think of Haiti, Amos' smiling face will be the primary picture in my head. And whenever I hear about a hurricane in the Caribbean, political crisis or civil unrest in the country, the prayers will become very specific. 'Jesus. take care of Amos, and give him the opportunity to be all that he can be for the glory of Your Name'.

I cannot wait to see Amos again, and I am gonna work hard and pray hard that it happens sooner than later. Praise the Good God!

Haiti Reflection #1: Bondye: The Good God

Most of the worship songs we heard during our time in Haiti were sung in Creole. It was pretty cool to be left with only my smile, my rhythm, and my clapping to express worship to God. (I get so used to using my voice that I forget that true worship requires so much more than that.) One of the songs we heard often was a much more Haitian version of 'All Hail the Power of Jesus Name'. They added a pretty cool chorus in the middle of the hymn that, whenever it was sung, always seemed to lift the church to a higher level of praise. The tune was memorable, but again, not knowing the language I was never able to sing with the rest of the church. This special section of the song was apparently in a vernacular that was difficult for even our translators to convert into English.

Thanks to Amy Long, I was able to pick up a few words. One of the words in the song was Bondye, which is translated 'God'. The literal translation is 'Good God' (bon meaning good, Dye meaning God). It isn't that they are consciously adding 'good' to His name. But it does seem to be implied that for the Haitian people, this God is by nature good and the 'Good God' is worthy of that acknowledgment. I later learned that this is also true for other sayings such as 'Good-God bless you' when you sneeze, and 'my family is fine thanks to Good-God.' If you knew the plight of the Haitian people, then you might guess as to why I think this is such an amazing thing.

It is one thing to acknowledge that God is inherently good when your life is well, good. It is a whole other thing to have reasons to be less than happy about your existence and yet sing with joy 'I adore Good-God!. The conditions of normal Haitian life are hard to describe because in many ways, words will not explain it. I am not sure if I could accurately portray the scene of children bathing in a river with pigs, knowing that just a few steps away the same river is being used as a sewer and a washing machine. I am still trying to understand how a few days of rain can literally wipe a village in Haiti off the map.  The majestic mountains and breath-taking ocean views of this land are always overshadowed by the lack of development in the townships, the sense of 'survival by whatever means' mentality, and the lack of hope and joy in the eyes of the people. That is, until they get to church where the people sing 'All glory to Good-God, I worship Good-God!'...their hands are up in the air, smiles on the faces, and voices of young and old are loud. In spite of the harsh reality, the members of Tiburon Church must declare that their God is good. He is good, not because their lives are good, but because He is good.

I wouldn't blame our friends in Tiburon if they did attribute God's goodness solely to their current state of living (and therefore would have a problem declaring that He is good). This is the primary way we sense that God is being gracious and kind...when things work out and right things are made wrong. It is the reason we go to impoverished locations and do more than just talk about Jesus. The Scriptures over and over again encourage us to add action to our faith and sweat to our confession, because this kind of living reveals the compassion and love of God. So don't get me wrong...I do not believe that the idea of 'Bondye' supersedes our need to partner and support our Haitian friends in every way possible.

But it cannot be denied that their worship is deeper and much more rooted in who God is than in what God does. It stands to reason that their faith could possibly be, as the Scriptures say in the letter to the Hebrews, the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen. Quite possibly, the lack of education and contact with the outside world has not kept the Haitian people from seeing God's presence among them beyond the material manifestations. I want that kind of faith and foundation in my worship. I wanna be able to confess daily, regardless of what my life looks like, that my God is good...inherently and eternally. All glory and all attention to the Good God.

Haiti Reflection #4: Perspectives

Priorities always seem to change on the mission field. There are lots more situations and circumstances that fall into the 'not the biggest deal in the world' category when you are hanging out in the countryside of poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. And there is always a desire to bring those 'mission field values' back home and integrate them into everyday life. There seems to be something compelling about living a simpler life of servant-hood. I definitely felt this...and I am currently discerning which values function best in the context of Haiti and which values should be more than a memory for my daily life.

One value that I need to hang onto is this: NO MORE SPECTATOR CHRISTIANITY. That phrase rang true in my heart during our trip. Part of the reason is that I was encouraging the young adults to be the church, not just come to church. But greater than that, I thought about the various issues that come up in the church community...the issues that I have with the American church (including my denomination and my church), the issues that others have with church leaders (including myself, those I lead and those that lead me). Again, all of those conversations feel different when you are using out-houses and sleeping on other people's thin mattresses.

Tuesday morning of the trip was my self-imposed Sabbath. I wasn't going to do anything but rest and reflect until lunch. Just before I begin to rest, I got into a conversation with one of my team-mates about some tense situations back home. These were stories that I carry around with me daily, still learning how to move on, trust God to be the Savior of the world, and praying that healing and understanding will come sooner than later. My team-mate did not know it, but the conversation tore me up (as it always does). Couple that with the weight of being in devastating poverty and trying to inspire eager young adults who do not even own personal bibles  to be the Church...my Sabbath was not pretty at all. And for about 2 and 1/2 hours, I just mourned, physically ached and mentally begin to shut down. It was good that God ordained very few people to be around me during this time.

And then about 11am, (I think) the Holy Spirit begin to remind me of what I was doing in Haiti. The Holy Spirit brought the faces to my mind...Amos, Obenson, Rudolph, Alexandria, Evelyne - the next leaders of Tiburon Church. He reminded me of the 30 or so young adults who came to the first meeting that seemed to break through something spiritually oppressive and replaced it with a hope for young adult ministry that did not seem to exist in Tiburon before that point. He reminded me that I was there to be a spark for their ministry and movement. And basically (in great Vanetta - my mom - fashion) explained the difficulty of being a spark underneath the weight of the past. I had to get up and leave the irreparable past in the hands of Jesus and move into the irresistible future with Him (via Oswald Chambers).

One of the things that keeps us in the pews are the unresolved and unsettled conversations. In a perfect world, we would have the words, the courage, the forgiveness and the conversations that are usually needed for closure. In a perfect world, closure would be given to all parties involved, not just to those who had the last word or who stood their ground. But this is not a perfect world yet. And while I am all about conflict resolution (believe it or not), Haiti taught me one thing...it is the enemy that wants us to stay in the pews and he will use whatever he can to leave you there. It takes faith to move past the irreparable into the future. It takes courage from heaven to move past the 'left unanswered'. And the reason why the enemy wants us to stay in the pew...because then we'll never be the spark that could be freedom and hope to someone else.

What is keeping you in the 'pew'? What person or what moment is giving you permission to not be actively involved in the kingdom? Who knows...what if the moment you moved past the hurt (which is common for all of us) was the moment that someone else experienced freedom?

The enemy would love to keep you in the pew. And I personally don't really want to give him the satisfaction of one more spectator moment.

About Haiti

About Haiti

A week ago tonight (the night I wrote this post), I was in Tiburon, Haiti finishing up a farewell service with our sister church.  I am still trying to process what exactly happened during my Haiti trip and what my experience is going to mean for me in the future. I was trying to communicate to some campus ministry colleagues about the trip and just could not find the right words. There are a few things that I know. I know that I have to get back there soon. I also know that God has broken my heart and stimulated my mind towards the global mission of reaching young adults. It remains to be seen how this trip (that I so did not want to go on) will continue to affect my outlook on things. One thing is for sure...my perspective on a few things has changed.

Over the next couple of days, I will be posting reflections from my time in Haiti. Hopefully, it will give you all who are interested a glimpse of what God did in me and around me during our time in Tiburon. I am sure that these few reflections are only the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I did not want to believe the folks who went to Haiti before me...that it would change my life. And those who know me well know that I would never want anyone to have the satisfaction of predicting something like this. But the truth is, Haiti messed me up...ruined me for anything less than the dream that God has for the young adults in South Haiti. I am looking forward to the future that God has for me, the ministry and community I have the privilege of leading, and for the young adults in South Haiti. Thanks be to the Good God.

Derrick

The Nations

I spent the weekend in DC hanging out with family and friends. What I didn't know was that there was a film festival going on. I caught a short film showcase at the Regal Cinemas at Gallery Place. One short film literally stole my heart. It was called Mozart of Pickpockets. I think it was a Romanian film. In fact, all of the films in the showcase were foreign with English subtitles. It was refreshing and challenging all at the same time.

As I reflect on my short time here in DC, I continue to appreciate the diversity of this city. I appreciate it because I am told in the scriptures that every nation is gonna be represented when the kingdom comes in its fullness. I am also reminded of God's heart for the nations to see His face and to know His name. That's one of the things I am living for. I only  hope that I would see the nations as the Father sees them...not as politics or cultural prejudice has taught me to see them.

And I really hope that back home in Jacksonville, where so many nations are living, that the kingdom initiatives I am a part of could also reflect God's heart for the nations. As Jesus said, "...My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations'..." (Mark 11:17 ESV)