Category Archives: South Central PA

Final Exams

As we head into final exams at our college campuses around South Central PA, here are a few reflections from campus staff Jesse Stowell, serving students at Penn State Harrisburg and Lebanon Valley College.

Finals are a melodramatic time in the life of a college student:
Sometimes you wake up in the library at 3am, surprised that your body is still functioning.
Sometimes you realize that you’ve given yourself 100 hours to research, but only 10 hours to write the term-paper…
And sometimes romantic difficulties make a final project nearly impossible to concentrate on.

As the end of the semester looms, college students everywhere are under pressure to write term papers, study for final exams, and place the finishing touches on senior projects.

Please pray for the college students you know!
Send an email of love and prayer to encourage them!

Many students will need strength from the Holy Spirit to stay motivated (I know I did), and reminders of love will help them to remember God in what often feels like an endless, sleepless, over-caffeinated week of madness.

shift.10 Opening Night

Students from across South Central Pennsylvania have arrived at Black Rock Retreat, in record numbers: 92 students from 7 campuses.  Students came with excitement and anticipation and were not disappointed by this first evening.  Betsy Staudt Willet led moving worship, Neil Livingstone brought the word from Luke 5, and students dove in getting to know each other across campuses in a lively open mic coffeehouse emceed by Nick Peterson.

All to begin digging into the question: how are you pursuing the good life?

Tonight, from Luke 5, we see a guy named Simon get interrupted by Jesus jumping into his boat, challenged by Jesus to take it deeper, and then find himself standing knee deep in fish.  How might Jesus be breaking out of all the boxes we put him in?  What boxes do I even have?  Where do I find myself?

Back to campus!

As you’re well aware, a new school year is upon us!  I’m amazed at what change happens between the early weeks of August and the end of the month.  Besides all the kids heading back to school, there were 50,000 undergrads across South Central PA heading to campus.  That’s like 90% of the city of Lancaster deciding to change work schedules and living arrangements within a two week window of each other.  It creates some chaos!

I remember back 11 years ago, to my first few days on a college campus.  I remember at the strange new rhythms of life, like leaving “home” (my dorm room) at midnight to wander across the quad to another dorm to see who was around to hang out.  In high school, no one I knew ever casually wandered around their neighborhood in the middle of the night looking for snacks and a chat.

And even though this mass migration occurs every year around this time, every late summer is a little different.  Again going back 11 years, I remember going through the campus activities fair to see all the various student groups, and everyone kept wanting my email address.  At that point, I was like 90% of other internet users and had an AOL account, but really email was a novelty, little more.  So I had no qualms about giving the address to anyone and everyone who asked, quickly signing up for about 2o clubs.  A few days later, in my first classes, my professors also wanted my email, promising that they’d be sending assignments…  That back-to-school season marked the introduction of email into my life, no longer as a novelty, but as a primary communication tool.

These changes in technology keep coming, marked in significant ways by a new school year.  My senior year of college, when we all arrived back on campus, suddenly everyone had a cell phone!  About five years ago, Facebook had some followers through the winter and spring, but it wasn’t until the fall back-to-school transition that almost everyone had an account.  We see hints of these changes coming over the summer, but they’re not fully manifested until a few weeks into the semester.  And so I ask and wonder–what will be new this year?

With the mass migration and the cultural changes, this can be a disruptive time for new students.  Purposefully so, this is the busiest time of the year for our InterVarsity staff and students.  As one staff wrote recently in an update:

Please pray with us, especially in these first few weeks of school, that the current students would reach out to the new ones, and that everyone on campus would have an opportunity to be connected to someone who is living out their faith and ultimately connected to God.

May it be so.

“I don’t want to grow up…”

A story of a witnessing community from Evan Smith, campus staff at York College:

“I don’t want to grow up…and college is a great place to not grow up!”

These words were at once saddening and beautiful to hear from one member of our Vision Team.  Saddening, because it is so true — college has, for many, become a context in which to put off responsibility for choices, to relax and just be “infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching by the cunning and craftiness of people.”  (Ephesians 4:14)

But it was also beautiful to hear because of the context — our Vision Team was beginning to share some of the fears and struggles they face looking at their calling for the upcoming year.  For this student, it was tempting to long for a time with no cares or responsibility, but also no influence or leadership for the renewal of the campus.  As she and others learned to share their fears openly with each other, I could almost see the bonds of community forming.  We prayed for her, and each other — “be strong and courageous” as Jesus leads on…

Looking back at Sidewalks 2010

The Sidewalks 2010 Urban Project ended yesterday after 6 weeks of life together in the Stevens neighborhood of Lancaster City.  Nine college students spent their summers volunteering at several urban agencies, playing with kids, chatting with neighbors, and figuring out how to manage cooking and keeping up a house.  Yesterday packed their bags, cleaned the house, and said goodbye to each other and to our neighbors.

What’s in a name?  Why Sidewalks?  I read an article in Newsweek a few years back entitled “Sidewalks make a neighborhood into a community.”  That’s the inspiration; that’s the hope.  We bring college students to live with us for a summer to learn how sidewalks perform that function.  It is a little abstract–how could slabs of concrete create intimacy among strangers?  And yet here in the city, in our neighborhood, that’s just what happens.  The slabs of concrete lead the way from home to another, from one porch to another, from one meal to another.  The slabs of concrete are linear parks where there are daily games of catch, opportunities to shoot hoops, linger in conversation, create art, jump rope, and on and on.  In all these ways and so many more, simple slabs of concrete create a connection and wholeness between people that is elusive in many other settings.

So, come to the city, come experience these slabs of concrete that connect us to each other, these sidewalks that make our community.  Come, and see how you might change.

Sidewalks: Week 1 Reflections (by Betsy)

The students of Sidewalks 2010

With a little over a week under our belts, we feel like we’ve taken in a month’s worth of experiences, teaching, and conversations.  Here’s a picture of the team (minus Bret and Betsy), followed by some of the things that have been most significant for the team:

  • Joe Manickam, who oversees the Mennonite Central Committee work in Asia spoke to us during orientation about mission.  If we are a Christian, we are a follower of Christ, which means we are a missionary.  Mission involves 3 things: crossing barriers, proclaiming the good news in word (10%), and proclaiming the good news in deed (90%).  Missional relationships are not about taking Jesus to the other side of a barrier, but seeing Jesus on the other side, already at work.  Will we be gutsy and cross over to him?  Joe challenged us to do the following things:
    • Don’t ask “how can I help you,” but “what is your problem,” and walk with people in their response
    • See Jesus as here already – here in the city, here in people’s lives, here at Arbor Place (teen center 4 of us work at), here at Water Street Ministries (health clinic and homeless shelter 5 of us work at)
    • Look for our own transformation
      • Listen and ask questions (vs. trying to provide answers)
      • Weep (let our hearts break for the city like Jesus)
      • Pray (be vulnerable to God)
    • Every day ask “how has God messed with my life today?”  Because if my life, my perspective, my understanding hasn’t been messed with, I haven’t crossed any barriers, and so am not being missional.
  • We watched Gran Torino, a powerful film about an old white man who gets to know his Hmong neighbors, with many moving results. We discussed ways the film reflects our earlier study of Philippians 2.  And we looked at examples in the film of the two different ways to approach cultural differences.  An open, sensitive, trusting approach makes it much easier to respond well to the misunderstandings and fear raised by the differences than a suspicious, inflexible, or superiority-complex approach.
  • We have had so many deep conversations as a house community and in smaller groups.  After only a few days we were sharing things it normally takes much longer to feel comfortable saying.  One person described these conversations as mental rehab – we’ve been processing and praying about our family baggage, relationships, and sexual pasts.  Healing has been flowing!
  • After only 3 days of volunteering, the Arbor Place team was starting to lose their hearts to some of the kids they’re working with.  But they also heard about how 75% of the kids are unlikely to make it out of their tough situations.  The excitement for the kids but pain for their situations resulted in confusion and swirling feelings about how to respond, and what will their involvement actually help, etc.  Lots of stuff to wrestle through – genuinely caring, not making their pain about us, having radical hope, not being tied up in results, putting aside our “we’re here to accomplish something” mindsets and taking up the “we’re here to be a part of what God is doing” perspective.  The following thing also helped us make sense of this:
  • Last night we watched the Mother Teresa documentary.  Seeing her love and care, sacrifice and obedience overwhelmed us.  After the film we went straight into prayer.  Part way through our prayer time we were so distracted by a big fight going on outside on the other side of the street.  We could hearing lots of yelling, and a couple little kids crying/screaming.  We switched to praying for God’s peace and love to overcome them.  And actually the neighborhood got quiet soon after.

Sidewalks 2010: ten years since the first urban project in Lancaster

This afternoon alumni from the Lancaster Urban Project (now called Sidewalks) gathered in the project’s home on East End Avenue in Lancaster.  The project has grown and contracted over the years, originally begun in 2000 and having several fallow years before being revitalized in 2009.  Today we had an alumna from the original summer team and a scattering of alumni from the intervening years.

We began with a simple reflection question: “What was significant for us?”  We looked back to those summer we lived and served and learned in Lancaster city, and we remembered how our lives have been changed.  Here’s what we said:

  • It was in my summer in Lancaster that I first realized that Jesus cared about the poor.
  • It was in Lancaster that my eyes were opened to the significant needs in the city, especially in education.
  • It was in Lancaster that I discovered God’s heart for justice, as we studied the book of Isaiah.  Especially Isaiah 58, when God tells us our worship is meaningless without justice in our lives.
  • It was in Lancaster that my eyes were opened to the complexities of culture, and to realize that there is not a monolithic white perspective.
  • It was in Lancaster that for the first time in my life, I was honest about what was presently going on for me.
  • It was in that first summer project that I was introduced to the city of Lancaster, the place that became my home for the past ten years.
  • It was in Lancaster that my eyes were opened to see the people around me, not just respond in fear to an unfamiliar setting where I was the minority.

Many life-changing things have happened in Lancaster through these urban projects.  Our lives have been changed, and we live in those changes today.

Nine students move in this Wednesday.  How will they be different because of this experience?  They’ll be sharing their thoughts on this blog, so be sure to check back here during these next six weeks.

What is enough?

The question of enough has been haunting me for a while now.  Most of my time has been spent around the issue of materialism, as I’ve wrestled with the specific question, “What is enough stuff?”  To be sure, this is an important question in our day and age of excess and entitlement.  It’s a question that I’m reminded of every year around this time, as college students move out of the dorms and leave dumpsters piled high with perfectly functional goods that they just don’t feel like taking home with them.  Even with the green shift, we live in a disposable culture.  Perhaps this is the inherent contradiction of the Millenials: desiring to save the world, but not wanting to be inconvenienced by budgeting or packing light.

On one hand, packing light and keeping the enough stuff threshold is incredibly freeing: there’s less to worry about, less to remember, less to store.  But the other hand, it’s incredibly difficult.  Keeping to a budget is a discipline not easily mastered but many of us free spirits.  Giving up a shirt that I really like but haven’t worn in the past year is strangely personally painful.

Besides stuff, this issue of enough extends into just about every part of life.  Most of the college students I know are asking questions like, “What is enough study and preparation?” and “What is enough community?” and “What is enough sex?” (that’s a blog post unto itself).  Professors have to grapple with questions of “What research is enough?” and “What publishing is enough?”  Friends in every profession wrestle similarly.

The enough question hit me in a new way today as I read my favorite blogger, Seth Godin.  The post I read provoked a new question: “What is enough generosity?”

This is difficult in its own way.  Followers of Jesus squirm around the issues of no good actions meriting more or less of God’s favor, and yet what we do does matter.  Jesus’ call for us to follow him asks for our whole lives, but how do we quantify?  It’s easy to say that all my money is God’s anyway and thus easy to give away, but that’s a nice generality and not as helpful in making a specific choice.  This evening I’ve been pausing to honestly reflect on how I avoid known needs, on where I casually walk around places I know I’ll be asked to help.

This is a question for my own generosity, and it is a question I face as I am the one doing the asking for the generosity of others (as a person who fundraises a full budget for a religious non-profit).  As I ask for financial partnership, what does that do to those I ask, as they are on their own journey of navigating enough in generosity.  I want to invite greater generosity, not subtly introduce either arrogance or numbness.  I’m not sure there’s an answer to this, just something for those of us in fundraising or sales to be conscious of.

What do you think?  Where is enough for you?  What is your journey?

Chapter Camp is just around the corner!

Check out the promotional video for the Mid-Atlantic Region’s annual Chapter Camp!

Funding February

Funding February.  A month of concentrated focus on asking people for money.  A month where our staff across South Central PA are pulling back from campus to renew efforts in finding partners for this work.

Usually when I tell people that I fundraise a full budget (and now jointly with my wife, a budget well over $100,000 per year), they wince, groan, and comment on how they’d hate being in my shoes.  It makes me wonder if fundraising is just misunderstood, or if I’m a glutton for punishment.  Interestingly, I get similar comments when I tell people that I majored in math in college.

In any case, funding IS part of the job for all staff working for InterVarsity, and it doesn’t have to be a drawback.  There are a few things that are great about being required to raise funds:

  • CONNECTION- I’m pretty streaky with keeping up with people (as you may have surmised based on my blogging record).  But there is some wonderful consistency that comes with scheduling newsletters and prayer updates and blog posts.  Perhaps it doesn’t help figure out scheduling visits to see family or a relaxing evening with friends in the neighborhood, but it does create a rhythm of letting people in on my life, and I actually remember others with great regularity as I see their names on email lists, call logs, donor records, and so on.
  • DEPTH- Deep relationships are a natural byproduct of talking about money.  It’s awkward, it’s unnatural, it’s taboo.  But it’s sort of like healthy conflict- the fact that it’s uncomfortable actually is a sign that it’s good.  The tension is healthy.  The reality is that money is a necessary part of all our lives, and money has pull on our deepest innermost places that we don’t often acknowledge.  But it’s true.  And asking people to part with money (even for a good cause) shines a light on those embedded strings.  And makes us all have to deal with them.  Uncomfortable, but good.  It’s hard to describe exactly how good this has been for me in relating to family and friends.  It’s strange that just about everyone I’m connected to knows exactly how much money I make, and even stranger that this isn’t true for everybody.  I mean, why is weird to talk about salaries?  And for just about everyone I’m connected to, I know how they think about spending their money and what has been difficult, whether it is the array of worthy causes to give to or the failure of housing appliances or health or business ventures.  I hear these stories all the time, and I pray for family and friends in a depth that is missing in so many other relationships.
  • DEPENDENCY- This is both the best and the hardest part of raising funds.  Everyday I am reminded that I need the handouts of others to do the work that I love.  Now, this is actually true also for friends who are computer programmers or selling office furniture or teaching classes- we are all dependent on others seeing what we offer as valuable.  It’s just that I ask directly for validation on the value of my efforts.  I suppose folks in retail are also asking directly, so there’s that connection.  But the temptation I face daily is the allure of a paycheck job, where I just do my work and get a check at the end.  That’s my fantasy when I’m in a dark place.   Yet again, that’s pretty much how this works.  I just have to ask directly for people to contribute money toward the account where my paycheck comes from.  And this is hard, as I’ve said, and as you’ve imagined.  But it is so good, so very good.  Because if I just punch the clock, I pretty easily believe that it’s my own efforts that produce the dough.  And in ministry, this would be a very dangerous assumption.  It would be very, very dangerous for me to have the offer of punching the clock to go to campus, under the radar, connect with students, listen to hard stories, offer to pray, look at scripture, answer questions, make invitations, challenge assumptions, and then simply return home.  It would seem edgy and glamorous and fun.  But it would be all about me.  It would not be about students.  It would be about my glory, not about service.  And there’s something that happens with raising funds- I know that I am not alone.  I might be the only one physically embodied on campus, but really I am just the focal injection of the interest and care and attention and resources of about 100 individuals and families.  I am not alone.  I have a community with me.  I am dependent, but I am not alone.

Yes, fundraising is good.  For connection, for depth, for dependency.  These are structures of community.  My job, fundraising, is required community.  This is a beautiful thing.  One week into Funding February, I remember, I hope, and I work.