Blog

What happens in the soil, in dark places between sowing and reaping—in the waiting between fall and spring, between death and resurrection? If the viewer was able to peek into the darkness where a seed is buried, one could  glimpse it unfolding from death to life. But often we don’t get to witness this miracle.

Lawrence*, a faculty member from a local private college, sat at a table with me recently inside a Famous Dave’s BBQ. His goal was to guide me along the journey he’d taken many years earlier of rejecting faith in Jesus for what he sees as a more scientific way of life. “You remind me of myself as a young man,” he remarked to me, not unkindly.

Have you ever read the whole Bible? Do you remember the first time you tried to read the entire Bible? I remember "thee" and "thou" and names of people and places I couldn't pronounce. The beginning was OK, but then there were a lot of rules. ("Why, hello Leviticus!")

Do you ever look at the campus and think to yourself, what would it take for every student on campus to get a chance to meet Jesus? 

Black History Month is behind us and I can’t help but think about the murky future that is yet to unfold before us as a nation. Eight years ago, I could not have anticipated the extent to which we would regress in terms of racial relations. I had been the second in my family to earn a graduate degree. My recent appointment as a Staff Member with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship was, for me, an accomplishment. Eight years ago, I had been the only Black male on campus staff in the region at the time and felt well received.  That year, we also witnessed the election of the first Black U.S. President. We had come so far, eight years ago.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that faculty are a key part of our mission field. We might wonder what impact, if any, a group of undergraduate students could have on the faith development of a faculty member, particularly one who may be hostile to the Christian faith.   

By

I was sitting at my computer checking off tasks when my phone started buzzing. Looking at the number, I knew it was a conflict, and I knew the conversation would be long and messy. My chest constricted. My mouth went dry. I rejected the call.

Pages