Eyes Wide Open (or Giving up everything for something better)

"The unfamiliar spells danger. It might mean reexamining our faith. It might take us into areas of feeling that can be awkward, or it might disrupt the stasis of our community. The unfamiliar might mean having to cope with a more complex reality than we really want. It might cause us to be critical of where we have been and what we have believed or experienced. It is a danger because it can be alluring, yet i can realign things in ways that may be painful and disorienting. It violates the sense of being in control, safe. It leads to questions, redefinitions, new actions, different relationships." - excerpt from The Dangerous Act of Worship, by Mark Labberton. Emphasis added.

I haven't updated for a month because I've had little to say, and now suddenly there is so much on my heart that I don't really know where to begin or which things to share. I guess I could start with where I am.
As of last Sunday I am living in the North Lawndale neighborhood on the west side of Chicago. The neighborhood is about 94% Black, with about 42% of the population living below the poverty line. This makes it by definition, a ghetto (racially homogenous, at least 40% below the poverty line.). Just south of us, across the railroad tracks, is South Lawndale, better known as La Villita (Little Village). That neighbohood is about 83% Hispanic (predominantly mexican), and is a major gateway for Mexican immigrants coming to the midwest. Nueva Vida, the church I am serving with for the six weeks I am here, is located in this neighborhood.
There is a lot of brokeness here, but already I am seeing the beauty of the community here. The church here is alive and passionate about Christ and being a light in the neighborhood. I'm sorry I only have 5 more weeks here.
We have been helping prepare for the Church day camps in the morning, and then we have been meeting with the local pastors to hear their stories, the histories of the churches and neighborhoods, and to learn about what is going on in their ministries now. These have been some of my favorite times here so far. Several things these men have said have stuck with me, and I thought I would share a few here:

• People think of these areas as such dark places. Of course they are dark, all the lights left! (This was talking about how so many people (including Christians) fled as the racial makeup of the area changed. Following the riots that happened with Martin Luther King Jr.'s death, 75% of the businesses that employed the population here left. Those with the economic ability to leave did. These neighborhood's were once thriving economic centers of Chicago. Even now the 26th street shopping district in La Villita is second only to Michigan Avenue. But there is a long way to go.)
• Because all of us interns are white, the minority group here, we have been asking a lot about what it means to be white in this neighborhood and what relationships between ethnicities have been like in the past. What we heard was both good and bad. Many white people come for a short time and then leave. This creates a little bit of a barrier to building relationships for those of us that have just arrived. Other people come and stay for a long time, but they never fully engage because they cling to the fact that they can leave at any time if things get too tough. Others stay and are committed to the area, but they come in thinking they have all the answers and they run roughshod over the programs already in place and over the culture and structure here. The white people who are really loved here are those who have the option to live anywhere but choose to live here. They are the ones who are a committed part of the community through good and bad, who embrace the culture here (without losing their own) and who come to serve. The most effective ministry happens when we come to local church leaders and ask what we can do to serve them, how we can work under them in order to support the ministries they are already building. The Key to ministry in the city is long-term, humble relationships.
• One of the most valuable and important things you can do for the people here is simply to listen. Take time to hear their stories. (And they happen to be really amazing stories, too)
• Most Christians are good Christians but really lousy neighbors. We're really good at doing all of our stuff at church and being involved there, but when it comes to being involved in our community and investing in the lives of our neighbors, we're really bad at it.
• If the community doesn't want you there (or wouldn't notice if you left), you aren't doing effective ministry.
  

So those are just a few of the things I've learned about life in general, the neighborhood, and the people here. In truth I've probably learned even more about myself and God's calling on my life in the last few days. I put the quote from The Dangerous Act of Worship up at the top for two reasons. One, because it's from a really thought-provoking book I've been reading (and would highlly recommend), and two, because it describes in a nutshell what is happening to me.
I'll be honest. I'm scared. Not about safety, I'm actually pretty safe here. But about where God is calling me. The more I hear about this place, the more my heart breaks for this community. I want to serve these people. And the more I read and pray and listen, the more I am convinced of Jesus's heart for justice.
Anyway, at least for now, God is calling me here. There is a part of me that wants to go screaming back to the Suburbs, to safety, to the easy life. But the other part of me is much stronger. I know I will never be happy there (I never really have been).
Which means that my future is here. Here, where I am making difficult choices now for the kids I will raise here, here where gangs are prevalent and the schools aren't great, where I will forever be out of my element, in the minority. Here, where every day I will have to humble myself and serve under the local leaders. My life will never be easy again. And that knowledge scares the crap out of me. (Don't get me wrong, I'm also really excited. I'm ready to live the abundant life that Jesus offers instead of staying in my half-asleep state. However, I'm just beginning to realize the implications of this choice, so my mind is focused on the scariness.)
What's funny is that even though I'm being given a big chance to walk away, I know what my choice will be. If I were to walk away, I would be lost. I won't know where to go. I gave everything over to Jesus, surrendered all my plans last December. Now I don't want those things that I gave up, so where would I go if I tried to take control now? I've been out of the driver's seat for too long now ever to be able to go back. And in this, to walk away means to turn my back on Jesus, on my faith, to everything I know to be true. Because to walk away I would have to deny that Christ is the Lord of my life. No, I'm not walking away. I'm staying.

As Ashley told me this morning, truly following Christ should not be easy, it should be something we wrestle with. Because following Christ will cost you everything.