I-N is for "in," in the city, with Robin.

Sherman Lee, in the city

Robin is joined on the fringe by other angels, like Sherman Lee. Sherman is by day an information architect for a brokerage firm; by night a member of both the Faith Place and Crossings Boards, lay church musician, lay theologian and lay preacher; and all the time a joy-filled husband and father of two adorable children. He also co-edited and co-published A Crossings Celebration: Ed Schroeder and His Ministry (a.k.a. the 1993 Ed Schroeder Festschrift) with Irmgard Koch and Pastor Robin Morgan. Sherman shares the story of his own movement from comfort to struggle to peace in his work at Faith Place. He is another messenger of the cross and its promise.

michael c hoy

I remember my first visit to Faith Place for the inaugural board meeting. "Park in the corner lot; we'll have someone watching the cars," Robin cautioned me over the phone. My gut wrenched and I think I took a deep breath or two. I was no stranger to urban ministry; I had done my fair share of organizing youth group service events for soup kitchens, building renovations and so forth. I was also acquainted with urban crime: ironically while parked at an Advent Hymnfest, my car was vandalized for its stereo. I've never been totally comfortable in the inner city, but I've also not been ill-at-ease in it. I had "gotten my fingers dirty," or so I thought until Robin's warning.

Thoughts raced through my head: if we have to hire a parking guard for every event...how can the budget accommodate such an expense? Always having to worry about physical safety of all the board members and volunteers...placing my own body in possible jeopardy...and my time is already over-committed (as usual), do I really need to add another poker to the fire, especially one so potentially dirty and dangerous?

I've already promised Robin I would help. The church, our collective community in Christ needs to grow. This area desperately needs both care and redemption. I can't back out now, not over a little fear. I have to, at the very least, show up once. Contrasting Robin's warning, all the other neighborhood reports are upbeat and hopeful of the potential reception for such a ministry. I gotta go; I gotta show up.

Show up I did, and never had I been so keenly focused on my surroundings as when I walked from my car into Faith Place for that first board meeting. Obviously, everything worked out well: the board got off to a good start, as did the staff and volunteers, and, especially, relationships with the neighborhood folks. After overcoming the initial awkwardness and starting to trust each other, the hope and joy became infectious. The parking lot guard was no longer needed. In fact, vandalism to the building dropped over time because the neighborhood saw the good things Faith Place was doing for the community.

And so I fell into a comfortable rhythm at Faith Place, going beyond board work and participating with the Faith Place Choir, taking photos and video, working on the website and other promotional materials. I even started dropping by about once a week on my way home from work, when one day I walked into a spontaneously formed Faith Place program: young men's basketball. As much as I can go with the flow (but prefer prudent planning), I immediately knew that the young men in the area were the "troubled ones" --gang members and drug users, mostly alpha males. I don't mean to stereotype here: I've seen similar behavior in different corporate settings, but there it's much more subtle. Here, however, it was in my face as I trod the steps up to the gym to observe this new development.

My guts and breathing flashed back to my initial Faith Place parking lot experience (with the guard) but I had to compose myself as I very conspicuously (or so I thought) headed into the gym. Intellectually, I knew that these youths have the same basic needs as you and I, and that gang dynamics are a survival mechanism. But that didn't diminish my perception of potential violence. Reports of recent drive-by shootings near the familiar and formerly safe streets and alleys flooded my thought process. All I felt was the onset of fear....pure irrational fear. Fear based not on reality but perception, and even worse, of the unknown. Somehow I calmed down during the various introductions and handshakes. Truthfully, not a single face or name stands out in my memory, after the fact. But I recall my emotions as I shook hands and looked at the faces of these strong young men, gestures of politeness and respect ingrained deeply enough to overcome even the irrational fear. I daren't look into their eyes else I see their souls and they see mine. I tried to look at noses, mouths, even eyebrows...to give the illusion of looking into their eyes without actually doing so. I was way outside my Comfort Zone.

But my eyes finally yielded, locking onto another set of eyes. And in a flash those eyes were like having a mirror reflect directly back at me, parading my irrational fears and doubts. Even more so I felt like God was staring at me discriminatingly, exposing the deepest kind of fear - my lack of trusting Him. I was definitely no longer in a Comfort Zone or even a Discomfort zone. I was in a War Zone, wrestling with God. And that never ends well...for me, or for God.

And yet in almost that same moment (or so it felt), in the midst of the spiritual wrestling I sensed a calmness. Not from me or my surroundings, but from throughout and yet also within. I focused on the calmness, seeking its source, my breathing stabilizing, my guts relaxing. Locking in, I recognized that sensation - of remembering what God-in-Christ My Warrior Savior has done for me on the cross: Jesus, who paid the ultimate price to take the problems I have with God, or more precisely, the problems God has with me, and extinguish them on the Cross. To sweetly swap my sins, my doubts, the symptoms of my War Zone, for His Goodness, His confidence. To trust in such a loving and sacrificing God, that's what brought me peace, not just in a lack-of-conflict kind of peace, but true in-right- relationship-with-God peace, and therefore in-right-relationship-with-myself kind of peace. From my fruitless pursuit of Comfort Zone to undesired but bloody and necessary War Zone to Peace Zone, in the matter of nanoseconds.

In this divine Peace Zone, I could confidently gaze into their eyes (and they into mine) and I saw (or rather sensed?) their souls and part of their life experiences, like you do whenever you peer deeply into anyone's eyes. Another human, with the same basic needs as mine, especially the need for attention and approval from fellow men, and if not that, at least to be treated with respect. And me reflecting that same vulnerability, those same desires, and also the confidence and trust and love of God-in-Christ My Warrior Savior, confidence and trust and love promised to them just like it is for you and me.

These days (as stated earlier,) there's no guard on the parking lot...hasn't been one since the very beginning. But God willing, with Him waging battle for us in the War Zone, beckoning us from our Comfort Zones and into His Peace Zone, Faith Place and other missions will be able to continue to establish (as Robin pointed out) more holy ground.

sherman lee