Jerry’s Reflections – Page 5 – Jerry Lout ⚬ Writer ⚬ Speaker ⚬ Mobilizer

March 7, 2024March 6, 2024

Timely Provision

“Jerry, you will need a Faculty Advisor”.

I had begun ticking whatever boxes needed ticking, in the effort to comply with university protocol for registering a viable campus student organization. The entity we would formalize, it was decided, would bear the label, International Student Ministries.

As things evolved in our quest for birthing, by God’s grace, a vital spiritual presence among female and male students from across the world, a professor’s name emerged on our radar. What if our faculty-advisor-to-be were right this moment moving from classroom to lab over in ‘Keplinger’ – the facility housing the College of Engineering?

Jerry McCoy, a bona fide son of the Sooner State, had grown up in the shadow of the University of Tulsa where his father had taught before him. With a keen aptitude for the sciences, Jerry then studied at TU, and afterwards taking up an assignment as Professor of Physics.

Beyond the credentials and his status as an admired faculty member, Professor McCoy carried sure marks on and off campus of a devoted Christ-follower.

The day Jerry accepted the invitation to advisership marked one of ISM’s best moments!

A serendipitous sidebar played out in time, giving rise to smiles in the Lout/McCoy households. Jerry and Jerry in the service of a common ministry. . . Spouses Anne and Ann, each happy mothers of an ‘Amy’. . . both Amys working concurrently as coffee house baristas!

Occasional catch-up times between Professor McCoy and I affirmed our regard for student ministry, while deepening our friendship in a long obedience in the same direction*.

February 29, 2024February 28, 2024

A Calming Effect

Airport kiosks of the sparser variety often feature elevated circular tables so travelers can munch their edibles while standing. My new South Asia friend had moved to such a table, his modest lunch in hand. Adjusting his backpack, he had a glance around. Suddenly, he paused – shifting his gaze to the beverage in his hand.

No straw.

Taking in the customers around him, he realized all their drinks did include sipping straws, each one poised as if standing at attention within the respective drinks. The travel-worn student’s heart sank.

The kiosk attendant did not give me a straw, Dheeraj moaned inwardly. Surely it is because they do not like my being here. In this place. . . this country.

Reining in his gathering gloom, Dheeraj returned his focus to the checkout counter, noting the small stack of napkins from which he had earlier retrieved his own. He then noticed a newly served customer fetching one for himself. Turning, the gentleman pressed a finger to a metal device near at hand. From this device, a bright, fresh sipping straw magically appeared!

Relief washed over Dheeraj.

Ann and I flashbacked to our own skewed perceptions when arriving in Kenya as youngsters – our first foreign country of residence. Excitement and angst, wonder and trepidation ran the gamut, having a roller coaster field day. (Having grown up in an era of “Me Tarzan–You Jane” movies, I was half-surprised that our Jumbo Jet set down on paved tarmac, rather than a dirt landing strip!

In time our TU ministry team offered cultural orientation sessions for new arrivals coming in from abroad. We relished witnessing the ‘lights come on’, seeing anxieties dissipate even as we handed out copies of a perfectly-labeled booklet, How To Survive In The United States.

In time, opportunities arose where we could pass along treasured phrases from an ancient era, that proved as relevant today as at any time ever,

“Be anxious for nothing*. . . “Do not fear, I am with you**”

February 22, 2024February 21, 2024

Icebreaker

“So, how are you managing now that jet lag has run its course?

“In your early moments of being in the U.S., what was it like? Any surprises? Challenges?”

Serving up such questions, I discovered, helped ease the landing for new student arrivals, especially those who had never traveled outside their homeland.

Thoughtful queries delicately placed became bridge-building tools in nurturing further relationship. They also yielded an intriguing range of responses. One visit with a young scholar from the Indian subcontinent retains its near-the-top spot of my unforgettable list.

“Dheeraj*, how was your arrival to the U.S? Anything stand out?” His response was instant, and his shy laughter signaled I was in for a story. Offering an assuring smile, I gestured he had the floor.

“Well, the flight had been long. I was getting hungry when we landed at LAX, Los Angeles.

“After passing through Customs and Immigration, I found a sandwich shop along the corridor. There was plenty of time ahead of my connecting flight leaving for Tulsa.”

Dheeraj paused and offered a light chuckle before continuing. By now I was hooked on the unfolding narrative. Clearly something was up!

“Of course, I had never visited an American eating place. At the counter, I made my purchase – a sandwich, along with a soft drink. I was so mindful that I was a first-time visitor, a stranger to this place. Soon I became very worried that my presence here was not received well. I feared that as an outsider I was not at all ‘welcome’”.

Dheeraj gave another self-conscious and, to my relief, good-natured chuckle. Which led moments later to a stream of laughter erupting from us both.

February 15, 2024February 14, 2024

The Liason

Our young friend Constant was asked by school administration to act as liaison for some new enrollees soon to venture stateside from his (and their) distant island nation. Knowing they were readying themselves – as he had earlier done – to traverse the fourteen time zones into Tulsa, Constant took the role with keen empathy. A flurry of email exchanges followed. At last D-Day for the half-dozen students’ arrival came, all of them aboard the same flight.

By this time in Constant’s Tulsa sojourn, he had grown aware of my Sunday worship rhythm. Later, in a matter-of-fact style, he related to me the airport scene as he welcomed the young arrivals from their native, predominantly Buddhist, homeland.

Scene: Arrival gate. Friday.

Constant: “Welcome to America!”, followed by incidental chitchat.

“Sunday morning you will go with me to Church. . .

“And, you will meet my friend, Jerry, there.”

Having engaged with Constant already and recognizing him as their ‘veteran’ international point person, the travel-weary but eager students nodded their pleasure. Formalities complete, the mini parade of scholars gathered up their carry-ons and headed for Baggage Claim.

Nice, I thought, maybe not the protocol others would have employed in receiving first-time arrivals to the country. Well done, Constant.

Sunday dawned.

Not having yet known of their airport dialogue, I entered our church sanctuary and got a happy surprise. My friend Constant flashed his easy smile, and then guided me to a particular row of seats. Here sat the six newly landed scholars – guys and ladies, warm and courteous – taking up the better part of the church pew row.

When service ended my wife and I mingled with the group. Then waved farewell as Constant whisked them off to further adventurous tastes of American culture.

We would meet again.

February 8, 2024February 7, 2024

Reptile Routine

Extending circles of friendships for newly arrived foreign students proves priceless, over time. Stewarded well, the practice can translate into treasured relationships. It’s been noted that a Houston professor researching the matter arrived at a remarkable finding.

When a local resident extends kindness to an international student in a meaningful way within the first 72 hours of the newcomer’s arrival, a lifelong friendship can well have been launched.

My wife and I resonate with stats like these, having drunk deep from the wells of hospitality at the hands of local residents upon our maiden arrival to Africa.

In mere moments of our friends Carl and Annette swinging open their door in welcome to my friend Constant, the space in their cozy residence was ringing with hospitable cheer. Is it any wonder, given the needs and the makeup of we human creatures, how soon authentic friendships among us can bud, then flourish?

Lingering a moment at the apartment door, I took in the surroundings and wondered how many stories lay past the many other student housing doors. My good-humored, keen-minded, bespectacled friend from the Far East greeted me in what had by now become a predictable norm. A cheery grin seemed to mark his countenance at every turn.

Waiting outside his door, I had already begun scanning my brain for a specific kind of word or phrase for this fun-loving Chemistry major.

In the experiment of figuring out ways to help students get a better handle on the English language, I had recognized a robust interest among some scholars over our common American slangs or idioms. My student friend was, I discovered, not merely interested in the world of slang. Constant grew such an appetite for new expressions he inaugurated a kind of game. We were not to part company following any of our sessions without my having left behind a fresh new idiom to take its place inside his ever-expanding slang storehouse.

This Tuesday afternoon, having wrapped up our regular conversational time in the New Testament, Constant hit me with the reminder, “So Jerry, what slang do you have for me today?”

“How about this, Constant. . .”

I coached him then on a common back-and-forth dialogue featuring reptiles as the theme. From that day onward, no conversational session was complete without a shared parting refrain,

“See you later, Alligator. . .”

“After while, Crocodile!”

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.