When I was a young woman my husband, Ken, and I were deeply involved in urban ministry.
Don't know what that means?
After leaving seminary in Atlanta, where we were heavily influenced by Martin Luther King, Jr. and other Civil Rights leaders, we were sent to a downtown church in Ft. Lauderdale. Ken was the associate pastor. During that time we both became active in the community. Housing for the poor was a big issue. Along with others, we put together a group consisting of city leaders and homeless people, church activists, housewives, etc. and eventually put up a 501c3 apartment building. Later, the Kiwanis took our plans and put up another one next to it. This sort of thing had never happened before.
Yes, there were problems. Drug dealers were everywhere. Putting residents on the apartment management board helped but the biggest help was moving three really tough nuns into a ground floor apartment!
And, by the way, those apartment buildings are still there.
That was the beginning of a very hard, scary, but oh so fulfilling, nine years of urban ministry. It wasn't just about helping people. It was about empowering people. Including ourselves.
When you see a well-to-do church going suburbanite simply become friends with a poor urban woman and then discover how the system discriminates against the poor - that's sometimes the beginning of systemic change.
And now, almost forty years later, there's a chance that my church might step into urban ministry in a big way. If we do, it certainly won't be the same as it was in back then. The needs, the knowledge, the skills and the times themselves are different.
But the changes that will take place within the folks on this journey will be just as amazing.
One evening in the 70s I attended an urban ministry meeting to discuss the horrendous racial strife in Broward County. A black, urban psychologist suggested that what was needed were classes for primarily white community and church groups, helping folks work through their fears and prejudices. He identified a brilliant young black Episcopal priest who would be able to pull it off. But the group decided he needed a white female co-leader.
I wondered that night who would in the world would be brave and foolish enough to do it.
***
Don't know what that means?
After leaving seminary in Atlanta, where we were heavily influenced by Martin Luther King, Jr. and other Civil Rights leaders, we were sent to a downtown church in Ft. Lauderdale. Ken was the associate pastor. During that time we both became active in the community. Housing for the poor was a big issue. Along with others, we put together a group consisting of city leaders and homeless people, church activists, housewives, etc. and eventually put up a 501c3 apartment building. Later, the Kiwanis took our plans and put up another one next to it. This sort of thing had never happened before.
Yes, there were problems. Drug dealers were everywhere. Putting residents on the apartment management board helped but the biggest help was moving three really tough nuns into a ground floor apartment!
And, by the way, those apartment buildings are still there.
That was the beginning of a very hard, scary, but oh so fulfilling, nine years of urban ministry. It wasn't just about helping people. It was about empowering people. Including ourselves.
When you see a well-to-do church going suburbanite simply become friends with a poor urban woman and then discover how the system discriminates against the poor - that's sometimes the beginning of systemic change.
And now, almost forty years later, there's a chance that my church might step into urban ministry in a big way. If we do, it certainly won't be the same as it was in back then. The needs, the knowledge, the skills and the times themselves are different.
But the changes that will take place within the folks on this journey will be just as amazing.
One evening in the 70s I attended an urban ministry meeting to discuss the horrendous racial strife in Broward County. A black, urban psychologist suggested that what was needed were classes for primarily white community and church groups, helping folks work through their fears and prejudices. He identified a brilliant young black Episcopal priest who would be able to pull it off. But the group decided he needed a white female co-leader.
I wondered that night who would in the world would be brave and foolish enough to do it.
***
