Off Campus.

I love reaching college students.  The past two weeks have reminded me that there’s nothing like the first weeks of a freshman’s college carreer.  It’s so much fun to be on campus, to be a part of God changing student’s lives.

It’s not always easy, but man, is it ever worth it.

This semester we have to pull back, and spend some time mending our financial support net.  As you may know, we depend entirely on the donations of concerned individuals, churches, and businesses to fund our ministry, our salary, and our healthcare benefits.  We challenge folks to join us on a monthly basis financially so that we are freed up to focus fully on the task at hand, communicating the gospel in the language of today’s college student.

So, as much as I enjoy the work on campus, this semester we will be working off campus to ensure many more years of fruitful labor.  That probably will mean more posts about funds than before (don’t be afraid of that little “funds” link to your right.  It won’t bite…)

Pray with us that God would raise up all the dollars we need.  We are asking Him to do so by Thanksgiving.

Learning Gratitude

I don’t say thanks enough.  I don’t say it enough in my marriage when my wife does things like pack my suitcase for me (without me asking) when I’m going on a trip, and I don’t say it enough when somebody picks up my tab at a restaurant.  I don’t say it enough to the people who partner with us to reach college students.  I also don’t say thanks enough when somebody donates a car to me.

A what?

You read that right.  Somebody has donated a car to us!  It’s an Oldsmobile Eighty-Eight, and I’m pretty sure it’s a 1998 model.  All the paperwork hasn’t cleared, so we don’t have it in our driveway yet, but I’m expecting it within the next two weeks.  Rest assured there will be pictures.

When we got home from the summer, we had planed on buying a car to replace the one that didn’t quite fit underneath the F350.  But our finances were not in a place where we could responsibly justify a large purchase.  So I sent an email to a few friends asking if they knew of anyone selling a car for next-to-nothing.  It was a prayer-bathed stab in the dark, and I honestly didn’t think I was going to hear anything back from it.

A couple of weeks later, I got a call from the missions committee at our church, saying that someone had given the church their car, and they wanted to give it to us!  I was blown away.

God is too good to us.  You, reader, are too good to us.  And I need to learn to say that more often.

Crusade?

There are some drawbacks to being named after arguably the most bumble-headed thing (this is a family blog, and I try to keep cussing posts down to fewer than one per year, so bumble-headed is going to have to do) Christians have done since Peter lopped off an ear, sure.  But here’s how the conversation normally plays out for me.

Me: I work with Campus Crusade for Christ:

Joe Freshman: Can you use the word “crusade?” isn’t that like “jihad?”

Me: I know, I like to call it “vintage militant.”  We started back in the fifties, long before political correctness.  Also during that time, Billy Graham was known to go on “crusades” where people came to an arena to hear a message.  We were in essence extending those arena crusades to the college campus.  Our name is meant to differentiate us from a “fellowship” in that we make it a point to initiate conversations and interactions about the Bible.  We are about telling people (without the swords and burnings at the stake) that Jesus has changed our lives.

Joe Freshman: Oh, cool.  Have you played Madden ’09?

See, to be honest, it’s not a stumbling block to people that are actually interested in spirituality, and talking about the gospel.  Its a stumbling block to the atheist message boards and the students and faculty who are not in any way interested in the gospel.  They are looking for a way to discount us without engaging us.  Frankly, I’m ok with that.  I am not interested in having a conversation with someone who has closed their mind to even the remote possibility of Jesus being who He said He was.

The charge that we should change our name to something else would be viable, if our movement of 50 years bore even a remote semblance to the crusades of 15th century Europe.  But anybody who has been around the local, regional, or national leadership of Campus Crusade can tell you that there’s just nothing in common, on the level of motive, to compare.  I’d much rather a person stay Muslim and dialogue with me than for me to force them to fake-repent.

And if we were to change our name to appeal to the fact that some antagonistic fringers don’t like it, then we become the ministry formerly known as Campus Crusade (no matter what we change our name to), and that won’t fit on my business card.  I say we stick with two things: the same name, and the same love for the campus, that makes charges of bigotry really tough to stick.  It’s tough to accuse a guy who is hugging you that he hates your guts, no matter how bumble-headed he is.

The winner of the “Talent Show” at this past weekend’s Fall Getaway. It was great to be back around students for the weekend!

Hope-Accosted Waiting.

Can I be honest?

The past week has been a struggle.  We are facing an elephant-sized amount of financial support to raise, and despite having been off campus working full-time on developing additional support, we have a net gain of around (negative) 100 bucks per month this month.  It has felt insurmountable at times, and we have struggled with trusting God.

But as I was driving back from Fall Getaway (the only on-campus activity of the semester), I was confronted—no, accosted—by a strong sense of hope.  See, I’m more sure than ever that I am called to be on staff with this organization.  I am so excited about what God is doing on campus, and how He is continually, relentlessly, mercifully taking me to the gospel.  I have a clear vision for where we are going, just not how we are getting there.

These economic times (a phrase I wish were retired, or at least made past tense) have meant a sense of panic in America.  To compound that, the predominantly fiscally conservative culture in which I have most of my doings has reached fever pitch over the national transfer of power to the left-minded.  People are terrified, if that’s a strong enough word.  And the news media is loving it.  The more they stir up the blood pressure, the more their advertisers pay to put their logo just to the left of the “Meltdown” graphic.  (This segment of panicked rhetoric and over-dramatization is brought to you by Sears.  “Come experience the softer side of Sears.”)

Listening to conservative talk radio is baffling to the point of humorous, as you’ll hear minor-key melodramatic advertisements urging investors to buy gold, or seed packets, or underground bunkers.

What drives the panic?  Lack of perspective.

When I panic over how we are going to stay on staff in light of our current financial support, it means I’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

When you panic because you fear the ramifications of a liberal policy (or a conservative policy), or because your 401(k) is looking more like a 200.5(k), it means the same thing: you’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

Despite what some politicians (or marketers) might have you believe, the office of the presidency was never designed to save you.  Free market capitalism governed by personal moral restraint, though I think it’s biblical, is not designed to save you.

A full bank account, and a surplus of money coming in each month is not designed to save me.  As soon as we give saving power to anyone or anything in our lives, we’ve missed the gospel.

Let me be clear and say I am not suggesting a carefree, naive approach to what are certainly weighty issues.  I am not suggesting that I should stop aggressively pursuing raising support, or that you should ignore the politicians and what’s going on in the country.  Issues like public healthcare are worth discussing and debating.  They are just not worth panicking over.  Panic indicates that you are trusting in that subject to be your salvation.

As Christians, we should only panic if God is in danger of no longer being sovereign.  Hope, for the believer, is not some wishful thinking where we cross our fingers and think positive thoughts.  Hope (that force that accosted me on the road back from Lake Wylie) is based on who God is, and what he has done.  Jesus didn’t say “it is almost finished, except for that part that will be finished once _____________ happens” (fill in the blank with things like a full bank account, your particular brand of legislation making it through congress, your kid turning out to be a preacher, or doctor, or fisherman…)  He said “It is finished.”  As believers, we can be assured that, no matter what happens in the meantime, it is all going to be all right in the end.  This life is as close to hell as we will ever get.

When we have weeks that are a struggle to latch onto God, we can rest assured that it wasn’t his grip that loosened.  He’s never let go.  And praise the Lord his saving me isn’t based on my ability to keep my grasp on it.