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February 1, 2024January 31, 2024

Constant Gains

We know of people who opt to change their proper name. Visiting the United Kingdom, I am sometimes tempted to tweak my surname. Hardly any of our British friends would think it a compliment being called a lout.

A few days after tackling my new duties on campus, I met a delightful student from East Asia.

“Hi, my name is ‘Constant’”, he smiled.

“Happy to meet you, Constant. I’m Jerry”. The introduction marked the start of a rich friendship. A couple days passed. My phone rang.

“Hi Jerry, it’s Constant. Do you have a minute?”

In time I learned the rationale behind my new acquaintance’s name change. Realizing his given name might prove tough for some Oklahomans to pronounce and wishing to take on a name reflecting his ambitions as a student, he simply landed on Constant. Staying focused and constant – not getting distracted or sidelined from studies. Things he knew were called for in his engineering pursuits. Makes sense! I thought.

“Sure”, I responded to his request over the phone, “what’s up, Constant?”

After a short visit, which included suggesting a few tips to ease his concerns over navigating English with a certain professor, I offered that Constant and I begin weekly meetups for conversational practice. He liked the idea.

I suggested two o’clock the following day.

“Yes, that time is great. At my apartment!”

Carrying forward with the Tuesday sessions over the next three years, our friendship grew. It was gratifying, making my way week-by-week to Constant’s apartment, seeing his second-language skills excel month after month. The English reading exercises we tackled featured an uncommon (for him) curriculum resource. Opening the New Testament week by week, we took in a narrative, then another – Tuesday after Tuesday – from the life of Jesus.

January 25, 2024January 24, 2024

Charlie Company

To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live forever*.

It might be argued that Charlie Spear’s all-time-ever favorite term in the world is that over-spilling word – Abundant.

“Hey Charlie, how’s it going?”

“Abundant!”

“What was Christmas like with the kids and grandkids, Charlie?” “Abundant, bro, just abundant!”

Regardless the topic, the time of day, the weather forecast or just about anything else, the decades-long director of TU’s Wesley ministry rarely missed an opportunity to inject the ‘A’ word where any verbal exchange surfaced. Everybody loved him for it.

I would put his height at 6’ 2”, a full-bodied ponytail falling a good thirty inches toward his blue-jeaned waistline.

But neither his impressive height nor the distinctive ponytail nor the ever-present Abundant (that sat poised to break free from his larynx any second) fully explained the happy magnetism most friends and visitors sensed when entering the Wesley Foundation.

Long before I happened into this student center (christened after English Evangelist John Wesley) a vibrant spiritual garden for pointing students to Jesus had been planted and prayerfully tended. Charlie and team – all by their confession, ‘spiritual works-in-progress’ – had long since been leaning into Jesus, drawing on grace. The community remained stirred by a common passion. To know Christ and to make him known, as the Commons Room plaque asserted.

“So, Charlie”, I ventured after being the new ministry guy on campus a while, “the Wesley’s FNL (Friday Noon Lunch) serves the weekly meal here”. His arms in a relaxed cross, Charlie followed my ensuing proposal with apparent interest.

“What if our ministry – ISM – experimented with something similar, only focusing the efforts on serving international students.”

The Director seemed to warm to the notion as I wrapped up my pitch, which was being framed breath by breath,

“Maybe on Thursdays. But only one Thursday a month at first. We might call it FIL (Free International Lunch). Think that might work?”

When Charlie and his team gave the nod, the FIL was launched, my wife Ann orchestrating a volunteer kitchen staff and servers. We trusted heaven’s supply for funding.

Interest grew, appetites sharpened. The once-a-month international lunch (rice dishes never absent!) stretched to twice monthly. Our modest experiment with FIL took off. Eventually, every Thursday noon through the school year found students from across the world – most of non-believing backgrounds – filing to Wesley’s cozy basement dining hall. Nutritional cuisine for both body and spirit – found a pathway to a diverse array of scholars, graciously served up at the hands of cheerful hosts.

Week after week after week. Indescribable.

Abundant!

January 18, 2024January 18, 2024

Identity Dance

Funny how a title or ‘position’ can play to one’s sense of identity. We may even wear an educational or vocational label as a badge to validate our existence – “I am credentialed; I qualify as part of the human race”.

Our approval to launch a new campus organization, International Student Ministries, was granted in short order. Taking in the crisp photo image on my freshly awarded Tulsa University I.D. card, I drifted into momentary head-talk. So, who am I now? One day a retired missionary misfit – next day. . .

Fingering the blue and gold (school colors) ID, I couldn’t help muse over it with an element of pride. And relief. Still, divorcing the plastic card bearing my mug shot from my actual sense of personal worth would require time. Gaining a new lease on life vocationally gave rise to a fresh spring in my step.

The work of university chaplain in our day often calls for stewarding a rich spiritual legacy while navigating waters of an increasingly secularized institution. Not a task for the faint of heart. Newly installed Rev. Jeff Francis reflected qualities that most attentive hiring body might petition God for during evening prayers. The just-right fit. It was through Jeff I met and later forged a camaraderie with other ministry heads.

One such person occupied a patch of physical space in the heart of the campus on Fifth Street.

While things like title and position often do hijack and dilute many a leader’s identity, such a threat wouldn’t stand a chance with the large-as-life pony-tailed guy daily stewarding souls at the Wesley Foundation.

January 11, 2024

Sharp Turn

Impressive structures that weather the elements of time owe their long resilience to sound foundations. Moving about the Tulsa campus lying along the famed Route 66 corridor, I was garnering insights about T.U.’s own foundations. Not those to do with brick and mortar but of held convictions, beliefs and values – elements that gave rise to the university’s birth back in the nineteenth century.

Along the way I reflected how the many streams of higher education in America had sprung forth and flowed directly from the headwaters of Christian faith and practice.

The first colleges in America were founded by Christians and approximately 106 out of the 108 first colleges were Christian colleges. Harvard University, which is considered one of the leading universities in America and the world was founded by Christians. One of the original precepts of the then Harvard College stated that students should be instructed in knowing God and that Christ is the only foundation of all “sound knowledge and learning*.

The more I drank in of T.U.’s legacy the more I felt a grateful kinship. I paused at the courtyard of Sharp Chapel. Bedrock elements like truth and compassion, mercy and justice – qualities embodied in the person of Jesus himself – had birthed this place. These and other such virtues, all featured front and center at the school’s inception.

The University of Tulsa arose out of Presbyterian Mission roots by way of Kendall College. Even now the ‘vital signs’ of the Christian faith bore evidence of active life. Via several streams of campus expression. From Presbyterian to Baptist to Methodist to Catholic, alongside a range of parachurch ministries.

Buoyed in part by my recent ‘until they know that you care’ moment, I rallied my courage.

Entering through large ornate doors of Sharp Chapel I followed a stairway up to the Chaplain’s office.

Would my request be approved? I wondered. Would International Student Ministries be endorsed as a formally sanctioned presence. To offer, through the Lord’s grace, a witness to the life and hope resident in the person of Jesus? Particularly, among scholars and students even now making their way to this place from across the world.

January 4, 2024January 3, 2024

The Qualifier

“God doesn’t call the qualified. He qualifies the called.”

It was a quote I had heard years before. Now, like small fragments of glowing embers in a fire pit being newly-roused by a stout breeze, the phrase was poised to ignite afresh. And just in time.

A lot of my life had been marked by self doubt. I fell short of one of those most desirable qualities (according to popular motivational speakers) for achieving success. Self-confidence. Oddly enough, the Christian tradition which had most shaped my spiritual life and worldview had been often given to bold and assertive, ‘you’ve got-this!’ declarations. “I can do all things…” “I am more than a conqueror…” And even, “Give me this mountain!” – a bold claim voiced by an 80-year-old, battle-scarred vet. Caleb. There was something beautiful about my growing- up years in such an upbeat climate of a believing community. Such confident, faith-fueled declarations (drawn straight out of sacred text) were even then serving to deepen in me a much-needed trust in God that could come into play way down the road. I was just not very aware of it.

— Hwy 169

Cruising along the busy Tulsa expressway one afternoon, I listened half-attentive to music pulsing through the car radio. I was at the moment right in the middle of head-talk.

“What an opportunity, international outreach right within the heart of Tulsa, Okla!” Countered by, “Right … but you? Really?” A voice inside my brain objected, then continued, “These are really bright scholars from across the world, many in advanced fields of the sciences. What do you know? What qualifies you?”

The music piece on the radio ended. In that moment, in the middle of my cerebral – emotional tug-of-war, the DJ’s voice broke in – “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” I later heard that the poignant statement was traced to Theodore Roosevelt. Regardless, this was my first-ever time to take it into my ears.

Astonished is too mild a term. In that moment I was, as our British friends would put it, gobsmacked.

December 28, 2023December 26, 2023

Behind The Scenes

“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous”. Einstein’s quip leaves me wondering whether the renowned Physicist had some family of returning missionaries in mind.

With us no longer living and serving overseas, Ann and I found the Twilight Zone our new address. We talked, we dreamed some rather feeble dreams, we pondered. . . And prayed. “Guidance”, Loren Cunningham wisely noted, “is first of all a relationship with the Guide”.

A question surfaced in my thoughts over and over as I again strolled the lovely Tulsa campus, What if I requested and was given approval by the University to register as an international student volunteer organization? What then about a ministry ‘covering’?

Elim Fellowship of Lima, NY had through all our Africa years served as our sponsoring organization. Deep friendships and spiritual camaraderie had been forged between us and fellow Elim team members through our many ups and downs of Christian service.

I am not a brilliant man, but I’ve been given the sense to suspect it is almost always a bad idea to strike out in the Lord’s work as a lone ranger.

Enter an Einstein coincidence.

To my utter surprise word came that our mission agency (Elim) had just elected to create a new department. Its central focus being to extend Christian friendship and service to college students – but not just any college students. Elim Fellowship was right now poised to launch its first-ever international-student-ministry department. Christening the arm as All Nations USA. A seasoned servant-leader, David Spencer, would be tending the helm at the NY office.

The timely development of such an unlikely script indicated, it seemed, the handwriting of divine providence. Signed, Anonymous.

December 21, 2023December 20, 2023

Conundrum

During unsettling times, from the terrifying to the mild, a prevailing hope in many is to catch sight of some proverbial North Star.

For centuries and for throngs of people in numberless settings a wildly diverse company of pilgrims called Jesus followers, have centered and then re-centered their trust in this one person. The carpenter’s son. The Messiah. The Good Shepherd. . . (It seems interesting that a noteworthy feature of any credible shepherd is that he leads).

So, What now, Lord? The days going forward found me itching for resolution. With my mentor (Jim) now off the scene what am I to make of this teasing draw toward international student ministry. Am I to press forward along the intriguing but ill-defined road? Or, shall my wife and I – as advised by one pastor – suspend missions work altogether since we are not now overseas, “Take up pastoring”?

Day by day I kept being drawn to the student community. Apart from whether or not a ‘call from above’ was in the works, a couple factors loomed large.

Do I have what it takes? (Obviously, I was skating toward the ‘Lord, help my unbelief!’ zone)

Undertaking Christian service among a diverse company of university scholars from around the world (“the brightest and best” goes the phrase) would mean something far different than what I had known.

The other factor playing on my mind was the question, to whom or what would I hitch my faith wagon to? Until this point, New York’s Elim Fellowship had been serving as our overseeing body.

In the end, several answers to the puzzlements had already started making their way my direction. The surprising turn of events would mean the end of my two-fold conundrum:

With what group might God have in mind for us to work alongside?
Any chance my limited knowledge and experience could pass muster?

December 14, 2023December 13, 2023

Classical Crossroad

Jim’s leaving caught me off guard.

Once I got an introductory taste (it seemed that someone had dropped a savory appetizer on my plate) of the school’s environment with its diverse cultures, I returned for more of the same day after day.

Still, these were not familiar waters. I felt unsure of myself much of the time and was clearly nowhere ready to plunge into the deep end. Although his own history in campus ministry was just barely out ahead of my own, my good campus sidekick Jim T served as a buffer of sorts. He always took the lead. My place was to follow, which certainly worked for me.

Still, for anyone launching into a vocation for which serving people is central, it is important to give time to reflect on whether a particular shoe fits well. “How am I best suited to serve? Is my disposition and are my skillsets compatible for serving this particular kind of community?” To his credit Jim had paused and pondered.

He realized that his sweet spot would best be realized in places where high school classrooms and chalk dust mesh together with eager young minds in lively pursuit of understanding. Jim was a teacher at heart. When a position opened in a local Christian Classical high school, Jim captured an interview and soon a new job. Crossing a fresh threshold of his own.

December 7, 2023December 7, 2023

Horizons

“Hi guys, Welcome!”

It’s a suspicion of mine that only a handful of people in the world can offer a smile that truly lights up a room.

It was this kind of smile we saw glowing from Cathy’s face that day.

Cathy Ambrose was a volunteer with TU’s Wesley Foundation, a campus ministry of the Methodist tradition. She stood at the open doorway when Jim and I made our way across the threshold.

“What brings you fellas our way?” Cathy offered.

The unpretentious warmth and the pleasant environment of the setting signaled the Genesis of one of the foremost adventures of my lifetime. I was unaware in the moment that through coming years much of my sense of belonging in a college environment would be nurtured and reinforced by an easy camaraderie found at this very spot.

My mentor-friend extended his hand offering an introduction, “Hi, I’m Jim and this is Jerry. We’re on campus looking to serve international students”.

The three of us chatted briefly. Cathy turned aside to acknowledge an approaching gentleman.

“Charlie, meet Jim and Jerry!”

“Guys, this is the Director of the Wesley, Charlie Spears.”

The friendly back-and-forth that followed was brief, but I felt it would be no surprise if our paths crossed sometime again. Perhaps soon.

Jim and I moved on across the college grounds, taking in as we went attractive architectural design dating back generations.

Lord, could there be a future for me here. . . on these grounds? For a season, anyway?

I sensed a response to my musings may be nearing, to be disclosed maybe sooner than later.

November 30, 2023November 29, 2023

New Normal

Funny how conditioning works – not that of the hair treatment variety.

A person flies off to another land and settles into the things of life and work. Some years later, having grown conditioned to her adoptive culture, the person returns to her homeland only to find life disorienting.

Depending on how deeply entrenched he has settled into that ‘other life’, the reentry and reorienting process for the returnee may leave him reeling. I’m clearly a misfit, he reasons.

Such a person may feel more at ease in the company of the clerk tending to the nearby Asian or Latin-run convenience store than with many of his acquaintances of an earlier time.

It happened with me at the intersection of Sixth and Birmingham. Where aromas of Indian Curry and Chinese dumplings hung in the air.

ISI’s area director Jim Tracy had reached out, inviting me to accompany him on his rounds – connecting socially in informal friendship with international students hailing from lands abroad. Malaysia, Venezuela, China, the Middle East. . .

I fussed with upside-down feelings day by day as I routinely shadowed Jim, venturing along from one apartment dwelling to the next. Where we happily sipped hot chai offered up by our gracious, momentary hosts. (But wait. Aren’t we. . . us ‘Yanks’. . . meant to be hosting them?)

I grew mildly surprised sensing how the needle of my social barometer tilted in uncommon directions. Feeling less at home within my own mainstream American culture than with the young college students coming from places far, far away. I had hardly begun to know these ‘outsiders’ yet an easy kinship felt more in reach.

For a while this tug-of-war left me unsettled, musing over my ‘space’ and my identity (aren’t I the same red-blooded American fellow who merely relocated for a while those years back?).

In time I made peace with befuddling but pardonable reality. I had changed.

Change had happened on the inside of me. Living in Africa for a couple decades among people groups of varied customs and languages had ruined me – in the best kind of way. Components of my worldview had shifted, broadened. My preferences on many fronts had tweaked. In short, I had taken up a strange and intriguing and somewhat messy cross-cultural identity.

This new normal, it’s going to need some time.