I wasn't sure where the “leadership in cultural change” series would head when we began it. So many times each of us fall into despair of our surroundings and circumstances, and never rise much beyond the energy of complaint. In a world often characterized by inactivity and passiveness, would CCA students be any different? Could they “spur one another on to love and good works”? And if they tried but failed, would the attempt have been worth the risk?

The Joshua Farm in the Allison Hill section of Harrisburg was certainly an interesting prospect for students to consider. It was students leading one another to help an area that had little prospect of ever helping them back. I for one enjoyed my time helping, and the feeling of renewal that was in the air as we assembled and attacked the many projects. It was a similar feeling to renovating our school building, and the enjoyment of a thought that perhaps despite us, and all our failings, God is still at work in our midst. My lasting memories of December 3rd really focus around the people I was with that day.

The students, parents, and friends were there at the school on a clear morning to organize, and all were abuzz with the wonderful sense of adventure God often gives in His service. There seemed to be a sense that the group was set on changing things somewhere, and it occurred to me that if I had wandered upon such a scene as a stranger, I would have been interested in knowing, “What is this group up to?” And even though I knew where we were headed, there was still a wonderful curiosity of how things were going to turn out. As we pulled out of the parking lot, it occurred to me that I was part of a group that looked like maybe it would number 80 people! Wow, 80 people on a Saturday morning.

The next group of people I encountered was those that were part of the Joshua Farm ministry. I loved the bright smiles they gave as we approached, and also how their eyes darted just past me as more and more cars came rolling up the street. I felt that it must have been an encouragement to them to see so many people acknowledging that their work in the city was important. To know that others value what they are doing enough to stop and help. While they complimented our group’s energy and kindness, I thought of the years of energy and kindness they had been called to in the ministry in that place. To be even the slightest encouragement to these types of warriors was tremendous blessing.

Once the work began, it wasn’t long till I met other interesting people. While cleaning a side street, we were approached by a car that clearly was making a detour through the work area as if to see what was going on. They stopped the car and gestured menacingly to have some trash bags moved so they could pass. There were no smiles, and no acknowledgement to the greetings offered by our group. I thought about exactly what the expression on their faces was. It wasn’t hatred like an outsider might expect to see. It wasn’t curiosity. I felt certain it was disgust. The disgust produced by the recognition that one lives in a neighborhood that would even need the type of help it was getting. I felt the eerie feeling I had seen the same type of disgust in my own heart at times. In and of myself in great disrepair, and eternally devolving to become worse. That constant recognition that I am the sort, or type, or kind of a person that is in such a state as to absolutely, desperately require a Savior.

While I heard other groups had met some residents that cheered their work, and a variety of interesting characters, the last encounter I had was one with a resident that looked to be in his mid 20’s. Our eyes met as I was making one last round in my truck to be sure we had gotten all the tools and workers. He gave a nod only, no wave, no words. This young man had not been a helper during the work, but now he was a worker. He had a rake, and he was cleaning up a small section of the same street where one of the teams had picked up a tractor trailer load of trash. His expression seemed to say simply, ‘this is doable now’. Almost like a fan that begins rooting for a team after they have made some unlikely comeback. There were no cheers or high fives, but as I drove off, he continued to rake his way down the alley.

The whole experience left me thinking about the way God has richly blessed the community of CCA. How He has raised up leaders of all ages to change things He desires changed. I hope the project will be a seed planted on fertile ground at CCA. That it would be the beginning of a growing, healthy dissatisfaction with the state of our world. I have enjoyed hearing the stories of students that were involved, and hope some of them may find their way to this post. And even this morning, as I read the Patriot’s version of the story I was filled with thankfulness for God’s work in our midst, and excited to find out where He will lead CCA next.

In Him,

Greg Lowe