This is the final post of my internship log. It sounds weird to write that, because I don't want it to be the final post. In a sense, it isn't, because I am coming back for the summer to work on the same project. That is why I wasn't too heartbroken to not say good bye to my boss. After all, the summer is coming.
But this is an ending. It is the end of my routine. Currently, I am at home, in a pattern of life laid down five years ago it seems. My schoolyear schedule is off. I no longer need to rise for an early morning class or work session. However, I also am running around a lot more with my siblings. The vacation is nice. But it is vacation, and now I know it is such a thing. Even after only a weekend, I want to get back to work.
Somehow, I've discovered the tools I want to work with at this point in my life. Research and analysis of historic churches sounds dull. Perhaps it is. But it tells me things, things I haven't deciphered yet. Why are people leaving the city and leaving the church? Why do those who stay have such a helplessness? Why do we view ourselves as victims? These are questions I still have to answer.
And then there is the sheer pleasure of doing something useful and original. The pleasure of writing up a methodology and knowing that in all the world, you are one of the few who has ever thought about how to do a comprehensive survey of historic churches. This sounds like an arrogant statement, and perhaps it is. For sure, survey work is hardly an in-demand skill, but it is still cool. There is the pleasure of producing something new and original, of adding to the economy and producing something with skill. Doing a job and doing it well is so satisfying. At times, it feels glorious.
And meeting so many fellow Christians in a foreign and new city has been exciting. I've met evangelicals, Catholics, charismatics, non-denominationals, godly hippies, and a whole range of others. I must admit, sometimes I quite deeply disagreed about methods and madness. But, the Body of Christ is so large and so beautiful and so diverse that it staggers my mind. Their churches range from massive relics from Europe, to small and quaint chapels, to polished modernist fabrications. But they are all still churches, where people come with their burdens and meet their God.
My professor jokes that we need to provide him with the answers to all the urban dilemmas he has introduced us to in the past few weeks. By the end of the semester. I cannot hope to accomplish such an audacious task, but here is my summary.
Urban poverty is first and foremost a poverty of the spirit. It is a failure of the imagination, an inability to imagine a better and different life. It is possible to be poor and improving. It is possible to have nothing in material goods, but be determined to find a better life. Prime examples of this would be the refugees in Buffalo, who arrive destitute and nation-less. After a few years, however, they transform their lives, start stores, get jobs in a jobless city, and become prosperous. They will to thrive.
The endemic poverty of the inner city, however, is a poverty that does not will to thrive. It turns adults into dependents. It convinces the mind and the heart that there is nothing else in the world. "This is not a good life," says the endemically poor brain, "but no life is possible for messed up and stupid me. I cannot break this cycle. It is too big for me."
And so it is. But there are bigger forces than the individual. The end of poverty begins with the enrichment of the soul. The church is the only institution capable of transforming dependents into free spiritual adults. It must move back to the neighborhoods. This return must be not just a white church, but a black and Asian and Hispanic church. It must show the way for racial integration, socio-economic integration and a change in life. Many endemically poor people have expressed to me how betrayed they feel by leadership, their own leadership, including in the city government, the federal government and the church. The church must begin to restore this confidence in the poor.
Once spiritual poverty has been addressed, the world can begin to rethink its economic strategies. The urban system is currently built to contain the poor in the city, where living is cheapest, or in the far distant countryside. The rings of suburbs and townships around the cities are where the wealth generation is happening, except for major wealth producing areas such as Manhattan. But this disconnects the poor from opportunity, and this leads to joblessness. A more confident and assured underclass is useless unless that renewed confidence can be combined with opportunity. But as to how this can be addressed, I have very little knowledge.
So that is my summary, Granpa. Ask me in five years if any of it still makes sense.
But this is an ending. It is the end of my routine. Currently, I am at home, in a pattern of life laid down five years ago it seems. My schoolyear schedule is off. I no longer need to rise for an early morning class or work session. However, I also am running around a lot more with my siblings. The vacation is nice. But it is vacation, and now I know it is such a thing. Even after only a weekend, I want to get back to work.
Somehow, I've discovered the tools I want to work with at this point in my life. Research and analysis of historic churches sounds dull. Perhaps it is. But it tells me things, things I haven't deciphered yet. Why are people leaving the city and leaving the church? Why do those who stay have such a helplessness? Why do we view ourselves as victims? These are questions I still have to answer.
And then there is the sheer pleasure of doing something useful and original. The pleasure of writing up a methodology and knowing that in all the world, you are one of the few who has ever thought about how to do a comprehensive survey of historic churches. This sounds like an arrogant statement, and perhaps it is. For sure, survey work is hardly an in-demand skill, but it is still cool. There is the pleasure of producing something new and original, of adding to the economy and producing something with skill. Doing a job and doing it well is so satisfying. At times, it feels glorious.
And meeting so many fellow Christians in a foreign and new city has been exciting. I've met evangelicals, Catholics, charismatics, non-denominationals, godly hippies, and a whole range of others. I must admit, sometimes I quite deeply disagreed about methods and madness. But, the Body of Christ is so large and so beautiful and so diverse that it staggers my mind. Their churches range from massive relics from Europe, to small and quaint chapels, to polished modernist fabrications. But they are all still churches, where people come with their burdens and meet their God.
My professor jokes that we need to provide him with the answers to all the urban dilemmas he has introduced us to in the past few weeks. By the end of the semester. I cannot hope to accomplish such an audacious task, but here is my summary.
Urban poverty is first and foremost a poverty of the spirit. It is a failure of the imagination, an inability to imagine a better and different life. It is possible to be poor and improving. It is possible to have nothing in material goods, but be determined to find a better life. Prime examples of this would be the refugees in Buffalo, who arrive destitute and nation-less. After a few years, however, they transform their lives, start stores, get jobs in a jobless city, and become prosperous. They will to thrive.
The endemic poverty of the inner city, however, is a poverty that does not will to thrive. It turns adults into dependents. It convinces the mind and the heart that there is nothing else in the world. "This is not a good life," says the endemically poor brain, "but no life is possible for messed up and stupid me. I cannot break this cycle. It is too big for me."
And so it is. But there are bigger forces than the individual. The end of poverty begins with the enrichment of the soul. The church is the only institution capable of transforming dependents into free spiritual adults. It must move back to the neighborhoods. This return must be not just a white church, but a black and Asian and Hispanic church. It must show the way for racial integration, socio-economic integration and a change in life. Many endemically poor people have expressed to me how betrayed they feel by leadership, their own leadership, including in the city government, the federal government and the church. The church must begin to restore this confidence in the poor.
Once spiritual poverty has been addressed, the world can begin to rethink its economic strategies. The urban system is currently built to contain the poor in the city, where living is cheapest, or in the far distant countryside. The rings of suburbs and townships around the cities are where the wealth generation is happening, except for major wealth producing areas such as Manhattan. But this disconnects the poor from opportunity, and this leads to joblessness. A more confident and assured underclass is useless unless that renewed confidence can be combined with opportunity. But as to how this can be addressed, I have very little knowledge.
So that is my summary, Granpa. Ask me in five years if any of it still makes sense.
