When Two Worlds Collide

In 1968, my college friend stood with me on the decaying porch, three miles from the Baylor campus, in an area of town known as No Man's Land. I knocked, assuming no one lived on the other side of the unpainted door. We pushed the door open and peered through the semidarkness into the three-room shack. There, sitting in the kitchen, was an elderly man.
Hello," I stuttered, embarrassed and a little afraid. Startled by my voice, a huge rat ran across the drain board and out of sight.
"Who's there?" the man asked. 
"Excuse me, sir, we were just in the neighborhood inviting children to a new Vacation Bible School. We didn't know anyone lived here," I answered.
We were invited to stay for a visit by 77-year-old Mr. Sparks, and in the following 15 minutes, the "other education" I received in Waco began. 
Mr. Sparks was completely blind, living alone in the midst of an impoverished neighborhood in a house that could have fallen with a strong wind. Like the scores of poor folks living between Waco and Bellmead, a suburb to the north, hope for the area had long since vanished: no sewer, no street lights, nothing. 
As with many Baylor students at that time, I never really had seen poverty up close. Suddenly, I found it much closer than I imagined. In the late '60s, the Baylor campus was surrounded by dilapidated homes owned by struggling African Americans who were eking out a living. In fact, Baptist Student Union Friday night missions usually meant walking only a couple of blocks to meet people from a world vastly different from mine.
Somehow in my four years of college, I never quite realized the local need. After leaving Waco for seminary, marriage and a job in Houston, my wife and I took off for four months around the globe with the purpose of seeing the needs of the world firsthand. The lessons were painful and deep. We returned to Waco to regroup with our family and consider life choices.
This time, Waco looked different. It was home. Now, the issues of the community became personal and real. Now, the poor were our neighbors, not just statistics. We began inviting children from low-income families to play in the yard with our children. We built a basketball court for the teens who had nowhere to play. We built relationships with elderly widows and started women's groups for young moms. The doorbell seemed to ring off the wall as folks asked for a little food, some help or a ride. There never seemed to be enough time or resources. 
In the 1990 census, Waco was listed as the 19th poorest city per capita in the nation. Twenty-nine percent of the children in the city were growing up below the poverty line. Yet, mirroring my own college experience, most Baylor students never knew of people like Mr. Sparks who filled their city. It was time to bring these two worlds together.
Mission Waco is an interdenominational Christian holistic ministry to the poor, marginalized and unchurched. It was formed in 1992 with the help of a grant from Christian Mission Concerns. For 11 years, we have had the joy of connecting Baylor students and local residents in this ministry. Each week, large numbers of students host backyard Bible clubs, teen clubs and breakfasts for the homeless. Sororities, fraternities and random volunteers journey across town to bring school supplies and help tutor. Several academic departments now require service learning for their students, challenging "ivory tower theories" with practical reality. Some faculty members have collaborated on grant proposals that address the needs of the poor, homeless, mentally ill and unemployed. 
And, on Sunday mornings, in perhaps the most powerful example of all, many Baylor students join the unconventional worship of Church Under the Bridge, held beneath the Interstate 35 overpass at Fifth Street, adjacent to the campus. Church Under the Bridge serves anyone who might not feel accepted or comfortable in a traditional church. Just as in the upside-down Kingdom of God -- "black, white and brown, rich and poor, educated in the streets and the university" -- all worship together as the family of God. 
Their diplomas don't indicate it, but many Baylor students now walk across the commencement stage with a second degree -- a degree of social responsibility. 
 

Dr. Dorrell, BA '72, MA '93, has an MDiv from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and a DMin from Eastern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is executive director of Mission Waco and pastor of Church Under the Bridge. He also is a part-time lecturer at George W. Truett Theological Seminary and teaches classes on social responsibility at Baylor.