Richmond justice program blog

Week 5: To Lean in or not to lean in, that is the question. 

July 26, 2023

As we wrapped up our time at RJP the outside world came into sharper focus. School assignments, emails, things we’d procrastinated or fended off all summer were creeping up. I was becoming more and more relaxed about my tech restrictions and the temptation to check out was very real. This is when prayer became even more important to our group. 

As said in my pastor’s new book Liturgy in the Wilderness by Dan Marotta (check it out), we aren’t the people we think we are or wish to be, we are our habits. One blessing from RJP was that my habits were forcibly changed. Instead of staying up until 2 a.m. on my phone, we all charged our phones outside of the room where we were sleeping. Instead of half-listening when my friends are talking while I scroll Instagram, we put our phones away while meeting and took a break from social media all summer. Instead of only hanging out with my friends, people I already know and like, I met many new people of different backgrounds, ages, and races. I spent time in their homes and neighborhoods over meals and scripture. 

Instead of using Google Maps and driving everywhere, we did an exercise where we had to ask the people around us for directions. Rather than mindlessly swiping a card at the grocery store, we planned and took cash specifically to buy ingredients we knew we’d eat. 

Privilege can lead to isolation and God has called us into community. For example, if you have a car, why would you ever take a bus? If you can afford to live alone, why would you choose to have roommates? It’s harder to have people in your space with which you have to compromise: so why do it? Because easier isn’t always better. 

What if I had a key that made being the person you want to be easier? It’s called proximity. Do you want to be more generous? Try getting to know someone who can’t afford their needs. God loves a cheerful giver and once you have a relationship with that person, it will be a joy to buy them new shoes. Do you want to save the world from greenhouse gas emissions? Drive a neighbor to work and on your way, other needs they have may surface. 

Proximity is a key to compassion. If you don’t see anyone who can’t afford groceries, you wouldn’t think to deprive yourself of the fancy ice cream in order to save money to give away. You may think “To who? I spend less than all my neighbors with their teslas” But Jesus sought out people who were marginalized. He ate dinner at people’s houses who were unliked. (Zacchaeus in Luke 19) And he asked people to follow him who were traitors to the Jews, like Matthew the tax collector. If we’re called to be more like Jesus, we are called to open our eyes and lovingly interact with everyone. One of my favorite quotes from the summer is that “It’s on us [Christians] to see every person as a child of God.” 

This new vision is not through our own willpower, it’s through prayer and God’s Holy Spirit changing us from the inside. The last 2 weeks of the program we prayed together each night and what a blessing that was. When you lift up each others’ needs to God it relieves the pressure that you have to deal with the hurt or challenge alone. I’m leaving RJP with a new definition of my wants versus needs and a desire to continue to live in and seek out community.

Week 4: Growing in Community

July 21, 2023

This past week I have been going back and forth about what I need personally to partake in the team. There are mental and emotional factors in my life that God gave to me when I was younger. I didn’t gain knowledge of these factors until I was 16. Now, as a newly 24-year-old I’m trying to figure out how to live healthily for both me and the team because we are all living together. Living in a community is a new thing for me because I have never lived with roommates before. Even though I had siblings growing up, living with siblings can be easier because you know what your siblings are like and how they behave. When you’re living with roommates it tends to be harder because you’re all adults and you have to adjust to each other’s differences. God taught me so many things through the RJP team about loving others and ultimately needing to love myself more. This past year was challenging. After all, I wasn’t setting boundaries for myself because I didn’t love myself as much as I needed to. Throughout the program, I have been letting go of feelings that I held on to since I was 18 years old. At that time, I had so much going on and I was so angry, but now that I’m getting older, I knew that it was time for me to let go of those feelings towards God. I’m so grateful that God was there for me throughout that time because I was still so lost and questioning everything that I was living for. At this point, I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have the people that I now have friendships with through InterVarsity because they have changed my life whether they know it or not.  Often, we might forget that we are not so different from each other, and we all need community to do God’s work.

I have grown so much in the last five and a half weeks that I’ve been doing this with these ladies. When we all started, I didn’t really know how this was going to go, to be honest, because when we started, I only knew Lily, Lisa, and Kiana, and even then, we didn’t really interact on a deep level like we are now. Throughout the program, I learned community is very important, especially in learning about American history. Something simple like having a conversation about ethnicity/race can make such a significant impact on each of us. It’s essential to come into those conversations with no judgment and no feelings of offense because those feelings can become barriers between people.

When I started my internship, I felt that I was going to learn a lot because it was completely new to me. I have worked with a small foundation called STEP Richmond and they do summer enrichment with children in a public housing area. I’ve found the kids to be so pure of heart. Working with STEP has been making me think about what needs to change in the education system and how we work with children in general.

This whole experience helps me think about Romans 8:18-25 and how God says our present sufferings are only temporary. He will one day bring liberation to the whole creation, and he wants the world not to be broken. That kind of leads to having a balance in our own lives and seeing that we need to take care of ourselves and not constantly try to change the world on our own when that’s God’s job. Sometimes we forget that, and we tell ourselves that we are powerful enough to do these godly things. But we are just humans, and we need to do human things. It’s hard that we can’t save everyone overnight and try to help everyone overnight. But we need to trust God in that and work together just as much as we are doing it independently.

-Alice Owens, Virginia Commonwealth University ‘25

Week 3: Blessed, Blind, and Broken

July 14, 2023

After listening to a sermon by Sarah Jakes Roberts, titled “Blessed, Blind, & Broken.” I realized how much I tend to separate these three concepts but I was reminded that they go hand in hand. God blesses you with what you need not what you want, and he places you in positions that are suitable for you but may require some stretching of self, which is not always easy. Reflecting back on where I was just a few weeks ago, I realized that “entering RJP” I had felt completely broken. I knew that I would have to enter this space with a new heart posture and openness for God to meet me where I was at, while also making the necessary room for him. One significant thing that stood out to me this week was a talk with Lawson and Romesh. They are both UVA alumni, parents, and members of the Richmond community. The two mentioned the importance of entering a new space ready to learn and listen. Rather than immediately wanting to act, “it’s important to understand finding the courage to pace yourself instead.”

I personally felt as if college was a blessing that God had bestowed on my life, especially for those of you who may know my personal story. But that blessing also came with challenges. Before having this experience with RJP, and being introduced to the overall mindset of slowing down, I was actively surrounded by external pressures. In addition, my environment positioned me in a place of complacent busyness that engulfed my capabilities. I felt as if I was on autopilot, and my emotions were stuck on a factory setting titled “Tired, but surviving.” This place that I had entered was lingering on my mental health as well as my physical health. Yet still, I felt the need to persevere for those who are counting on me and for the little girl with such big dreams.

With taking the time to slow down I have noticed the ways that God has shown up and also met me. With my mental and physical health, God was literally demanding me to rest when I was still trying to find ways to stretch myself. He has even redirected me in my academic path of what I felt like made the most sense. Although I did face a lot of challenges and suffering in my past few years, God has constantly revealed to me his faithfulness and mercy. So this program was my time to make room for him and discover new ways to rest in him. 

Sabbath was one way that I was encouraged to rest in God, and no one Sabbath looked the same. But one thing they all had in common was intentionality and presence. When entering a place of Sabbath I prompted myself to do what felt right. A lot of the time I spent my Sabbath in different forms of prayer alone and with our community. However, other times I found myself volunteering with Urban Hope, in worship, and even simply going on a walk in the neighborhood.  

Since being here, I have noticed a pressing not only in my relationship with God but my relationship with others and creation. I have been able to see the joy and love of God by those closest to me in this time, and even those whose faces may soon become a blur. Yet, the visions of his presence still remain. From the laughter of those passing by, to taking the time to sit in the intricacies of the flowers, and even finding peace during the summer showers. Not only that, but he has evoked the ways in which I want to create his image of Shalom in any space that I choose to enter. I have been able to learn more about food equity and the practices of environmental sustainability. I have also been able to understand God’s purpose for complete unity of his creations. With that, I want to continue to advocate and promote justice, while also finding ways to care for God’s creations, and even implement simple living so that I am able to pour back into my community and those around me. God has reminded me not only of my requirements as a Christian, but he has shown me the beauty of being able to live in the community of those who also worship him.  

Some of the most important things that will follow me outside of this experience are the importance of narratives and knowledge. God has met me several times since being in this space to recognize the beauty in the brokenness, and to understand that where he is placing me is somewhere new. I have been able to understand the spark of my purpose, and the reminder of trusting in him. 

From the Enslaved Persons Trail, God was teaching me the importance of knowledge, and the power of wisdom. We were able to go on a guided tour, with Reverend Sylvester “Tee” Turner. The tour was immersive and life-changing. I have had the opportunity to learn about the institution of slavery at my university, but to actually go on this walk with Reverend Tee was surreal. We were able to walk through and back, in complete silence as we positioned ourselves in the same way that enslaved black men, women, and even children would have experienced the harsh realities of enslavement. We entered the trail in a similar posture to how those enslaved persons were entering the “new land”. Then, we came back through in a similar posture of how those who were enslaved would’ve exited this “new land” to be sent downriver. Revered Tee also took his time to explain the impact of enslavement in Richmond and reminded us that, “If a story becomes your narrative, then that narrative becomes your reality, and once that narrative becomes your reality you will do anything to defend it.” 

The walking tour of Jackson Ward and Mrs. Maggie Walker's House reignited my desire for creation, storytelling, and hope. This guided tour of Jackson Ward was given by a 5th generation community member, Gary Flowers. We were blessed to listen to his knowledge of Jackson Ward and visit some historical sites within the community. During this tour, I forced myself to lament the brokenness, but also recognize and uplift the beautiful implications in this ever-changing community. As we walked through the community I was met with empowering murals of black faces and stories, and felt God telling me that this was a way he wanted to use me. Also, having the honor of entering Mrs.Maggie Walker’s House, instilled me with a sense of hope and empowerment. Recognizing the overlap of her interest and mine, and learning about all the ways that she made such a large impact on history left me inspired. 

Finally, our trip to DC was a reminder of the importance of identity. We were able to meet up with Kate, an IV Alumni, who is also conducting a justice program called BRIDGE. Their group was placed in a primarily Hispanic community in DC, where we were able to learn about the ways they interacted and navigated their experience. We also were able to learn and listen to Joseph, an IV and BRIDGE alum, talk about the history of Asian American identity. In addition, we were able to tour several monuments and memorials that highlighted different racial backgrounds and markers of DC history. Some of these were the Japanese American Memorial to Patriotism, the National Museum of the American Indian, and a Plaque that mentioned DC’s Slave Trade and Solomon Northup. These experiences helped me further enter into the beauty and brokenness of people’s narratives.

-Aleshia Williams, University of Virginia ‘25

Week 2: Brokenness Restored

July 7, 2023

Together, circled in the living room, the group experienced our first team spiritual formation. The topic was beauty, particularly how it relates to our differing racial identities and stories. To start, we watched a video led by Sarah Shin, author of Beyond Colorblind, in which people of diverse races and ethnicities shared fond anecdotes connected to their identities: distinct cultures, but not unique. This was the central point the video emphasized, that though the places we come from or how we look may not correspond, we can still connect where the aspects of our cultures do align (like how many cultures celebrate through large gatherings and food). This concept of embracing our similarities rather than our differences was by no means foreign to me. However, I had failed, until that moment, to regard ethnicity as an essential part of God’s original intentions of how we should love one another. Race in our world is such a polarizing issue with a deep-rooted history of being weaponized to promote injustice and oppression. The idea that ethnic differences could be a point of harmony within His Kingdom, though so often a matter of brokenness in ours, was altering for me. As the video put it, “Every ethnicity has scars and wounds that need to be healed by Jesus.” Yet within each of those ethnic stories, beauty springs forth from the simple fact that God specially knitted, woven, and formed us in our varying racial frames (Psalm 139: 13-16).  

It was a treasure to marvel at the goodness and intentionality of God in this way. This understanding further flourished with a visit by Ms. Abigail, an elder of East End Fellowship. Her lesson centered around biblical justice, but the highlight was Shalom. This word, though not unknown to my ears, had never been fully understood. Insert the leading scripture of the lesson (Micah 6:8), “Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.” Justice, she explained, is rooted in the character of God, and is the most vibrant and consistent word used in the Bible to show what ought to be. Shalom, as Ms. Abigail described, signifies harmony, wholeness, and welfare. It is multi-dimensional, denoting complete well-being in all relationships. These relationships form the layers of shalom: relationship with God, relationship with others, relationship with self, and relationship with creation. In Shalom, all relationships are put right. This is God’s intent (Genesis 1-2); Made in His image, man not alone, unashamed of our nakedness- whole, good, and pure. This reality, however, became distorted with the fall (Genesis 3); Ashamed of our bodies, cast from the garden, Earth hardened- separated, deaden, and depraved. This is not how it ought to be. But God’s vision of Shalom is still alive and is carried out through His justice. Ms. Abigail urged us to view justice in this context, in the way of Shalom.  

Being that Shalom is multi-dimensional and multi-layered, it is something I’m still excited to explore this summer. I recall now, while listening to Ms. Abigail, thinking just how beautiful this word was. Further, I was prompted to ask myself how I could be an agent of Shalom. This question stuck with me until the end of the week and was answered when we toured the historic Jackson Ward. As this place rich in Black history, culture, and community unfolded around us, beauty and brokenness once again showed itself.  To know that over 300 Black businesses lined the streets of Jackson Ward was awe-inspiring. But to also know that Interstate 95 would displace hundreds of families in Jackson Ward, literally splitting it in half, was heartbreaking. I was simultaneously inspired and broken. Yet, now I know that God was with me in both emotions because His vision of Shalom never dims. He is constantly at work to redeem the brokenness of our world by offering us the inspiration.  

Ms. Abigail and other East End folks already assured us that there will be hardships in our walk and that we’ll have to take up our cross daily. But now I also know that Christ offers us hope and that when He calls us, He equips us.  How that walk will look for each of us though, “depends on how he created us to be.”

-Grace Randolph, University of Richmond ‘26

Week 1: Recognizing Beauty in Richmond

June 30, 2023

Stepping into RJP meant more to me than starting my first summer internship. It was a transition marker for a new chapter in my faith and in my life as a whole. Many questions have been stirring in my heart about which path I should take as I look toward the next few years of my life, and I am grateful that those voices pointed me toward this program

One of the first activities of our Orientation Week was a ‘tuk tuk’ tour of Richmond. Imagine 6 people riding in the back of an open-sided wagon-like vehicle through a metro town on a cool, misty day— we certainly turned some heads as we rode. And naturally, we waved.

I felt ecstatic to be in a new city having this amazing tour, yet something didn’t sit right with me. It was the realization that we’re here, not just to view Richmond as passers-by, but to come as neighbors (if only for a little while) and learn about the more difficult realities of those who call this city home. Yet, even that revelation would be challenged as the week progressed.

Following our tuk tuk tour, the next day promised another new experience for all of us students. In a “Neighboring Activity”, we were tasked to find two given locations/landmarks and arrive at a set destination. We were to travel by foot, only within the Church Hill neighborhood; however, there was one caveat: we could not reference our cell phones. We had to rely on the Richmonders we would meet along the way as our guides. Ball cap on and instructions in hand, two fellow interns and I navigated this new territory of pure ‘community dependency’— a value often emphasized throughout the program thus far. The neighboring activity stretched my limits! It warmed my heart to find so many folks willing to assist. They didn't even think twice; if they didn't know where to find something, they offered what they could (for example, a quick search on Maps).

At the closing of our Neighboring Activity, my team members and I met a community member that I figured we would only interact with once; naively, I even made the snap assumption that he may have ‘needed’ us. I believe Jesus placed it on my heart to ask for this neighbor’s help to solidify the truth that I still have a lot to learn. The man’s concise directions gave us the final push to get where we needed to go, yet I almost walked by without even asking. The exercise, and particularly this encounter, helped me see how much I took for granted that “Everyone has something to offer.” 

 We arrived at our destination safely and had time to sit with what we'd just experienced - spiritual guidance all around. Then, Lisa and our afternoon speaker, Paul, introduced “The 5 R’s” (Receive, Respect, Risk, Recognize (beauty and the spirit of God), & Rest) as faith principles to ground our pursuit of justice this summer and throughout our Christian walk. ‘Recognize’ especially helped me understand that I shouldn’t come into RJP with rose-tinted lenses, but that I should leave my gloom & doom behind. While brokenness certainly exists here, hope and beauty are still present because Jesus is already working in this city. I get to recognize this reality more by learning about Richmond’s many stories and those of its residents over the weeks ahead.

 Back at home, my church has a saying; “learn the Word, love the Word, live the Word.” Recalling that phrase is helping me realize that reaching justice is not merely a 'conversation to be had', there is Real work to be done, and Jesus is inviting me and all of us to 'partner' in that. God did not place us here as ‘fixers’, nor ‘helpers’, but as vessels that must wrestle with our own beliefs to find the root of what pursuing justice means for us all. I am looking forward to what the Lord shows us next! :)

RJP 2022 Blogs

Week 4: Now and Not Yet

July 25, 2022

There’s this saying, that the Kingdom of God is “now and not yet,” and that has been what Richmond Justice Program has felt like to me.

As I reflect on the past six weeks in Richmond, I think of the community that has welcomed a group of women who are not from this city. I think of the intercessors who have diligently prayed that we encounter the Lord and experience His revelation. I think of the bonds I’ve developed with other participants of this program. I think of the healing I've witnessed through the testimonies of others. I think of how the Kingdom of God - the one that Jesus sacrificed everything for - is here now.

But I also reflect on the brokenness that has been embedded into this land since the genocide of its original inhabitants. I think of the public school system that values the education of some children over others. I think of the disparities in wealth and the abundant need for affordable housing. I think of how the Kingdom - the perfect peace between all of the Lord’s creation - has yet to come.

His Kingdom is now and not yet.

This phrase is one I would hear often growing up in the church, but I would rarely take time to consider the weight of its implications. During RJP, a now and not yet Kingdom has felt more real, as I’ve had to learn how to hold grief, lament, and brokenness while also being grateful for joy, hope, and healing.

This theme came up in one of the East End Fellowship services we attended this summer. Pastor Nathan was speaking on transitions and coming out of Ecclesiastes 3. The first four verses of this passage read:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: 

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot, 

a time to kill and a time to heal, 

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh, 

a time to mourn and a time to dance

Pastor Nathan talked about how the transition from one season to another is often initiated by our own actions, such as planting or uprooting, both of which need to happen at some point during the harvest. But what struck me was his point that in some seasons of our lives, these opposing events must happen simultaneously. There are seasons when we need to plant and uproot. Which must mean there are times when we must weep and laugh, seasons when we both mourn and dance. 

This tension is difficult but is one that is worth sitting in. Injustice should be lamented because we were created for better. And hope can be embraced because there are fragments of better already among us. Being able to acknowledge both seasons declares that we alone do not have the power to end suffering, and we cannot experience true joy in just ourselves. But there exists a God who sits with us in all of the brokenness around us, a Creator who is actively working to restore the Shalom that was intended since the beginning. There exists a God whose heart aches more deeply than ours ever will and who has always demonstrated how to hold brokenness in one hand and healing in the other. This is the God we need to sustain our pursuits of justice, and I’m so grateful that I have gotten to know more of His character this summer. 

As our time in the program wraps up, it’s devastating to know that injustice still pervades in our communities, it’s astonishing to know it won’t always be like this, and it’s humbling to know we’re invited to walk the road of justice with Jesus until He comes again.

Week 3: The Power of Stories

July 15, 2022

One of my biggest takeaways from an earlier InterVarsity justice program was to receive people’s stories as a gift, not for consumption, but for transformation. Since then, I’ve tried to listen humbly, to allow stories to speak into me and leave me changed for having heard them. At the start of this summer, when people asked me why I came to Richmond or what I felt excited about, I often found myself talking about stories. As I’d hoped, the program has been full of opportunities to receive them.

One weekend, we traveled to Washington D.C. and visited the National Museum of African American History and Culture. In the museum’s historical galleries, we spent the afternoon learning the stories of Black people in America, from the beginning of enslavement to the present day. 

The night before our trip, a woman from Church Hill spoke to our team about her life here. She shared that there are stories of injustice in her neighborhood and in Richmond more broadly, like the intentional placement of I-95 through Jackson Ward or the history of Lumpkin’s Jail, that she didn’t know until she was an adult. She had realized that it wasn’t until she acquired a certain level of privilege—through her college education or job—that she was able to hear these stories about her community, to hear these parts of her own story.

Her words were heavy on my mind as we walked through the exhibits of the museum. Part of me felt joyful—here is a building full of stories! Here are Thurgood Marshall’s glasses, here is a flyer for the Black Panther Party’s breakfast program, here is one of Ella Fitzgerald’s dresses. A much larger part of me was heartbroken. For so many stories in the museum, lament seems to be the only possible response. Here are shackles used on the Middle Passage, here is Emmett Till’s open casket, here is a portrait of Breonna Taylor. Lord, have mercy. Underlying both emotions, I felt a sense of reverence. Truth-telling, painful as it may be, is a holy and necessary act.

I felt the same reverence the following weekend during our time at Corhaven, a retreat center in Quicksburg, Virginia. There’s a graveyard at Corhaven that serves as the final resting place of a group of people who were enslaved by the owners of a nearby plantation. For so long, the people and their graves were intentionally forgotten. The folks at Corhaven act as stewards of this graveyard. They recognized the space as holy ground, took off their shoes, prayed for guidance, and memorialized the people buried there. Now, they invite others to the graveyard. They share the story.

As we spent time in the graveyard praying and reflecting individually, I felt overwhelmed with anger. The dignity of the people buried here, people who bore the image of God, was denied in life by their enslavers and in death by their exclusion from history. Why did these injustices happen in the first place? Why did so much time pass before they were addressed? I felt my anger expand beyond this specific story to others like it. Where are the burial grounds for enslaved laborers in Hanover County, my hometown? Where are the burial grounds in Lexington, where I serve on staff? Why don’t we know? Why aren’t we looking for them? Why aren’t I looking? I felt my anger shift inward, reminded that I share in the sin of white supremacy. Just as the oppression of Black people throughout history in Richmond is part of the story of the woman who spoke to our team before we left for DC, the act of oppressing is part of mine. Truth-telling can and should and must lead us to lament and repentance.

In our discussion of the graveyard and our time in it, our team talked about how to respond, how we would each be transformed by its story. We all said we want there to be a clear path forward to repentance, but there just isn’t one that we can see. Like in Habakkuk 3, there is no fruit on the vine or in the field, there is no livestock in the pens.

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord of my salvation. I trust that there is a path to repentance and that God will lead us down it. I trust that as the Lord holds the stories of each of His children, He will somehow weave them all together in His bigger story of repentance, justice, liberation, and shalom.

Revelation 21 tells us death will be no more, every tear will be wiped away, and all the former things of this earth will pass away. I trust that this is how every story will end. Let it be so.

Week 2: Spiritual Family

July 6, 2022

A major theme we have been learning about at RJP is the concept of spiritual family. Throughout Acts 2 and 4, we get a picture of the radical unity, community, and justice that flows from groups of Believers who treat one another as a spiritual family. Within a family, there aren’t any prerequisites for love. You fight for your family, pray for them, and give them physical, financial, emotional, and spiritual support – only because they are in your family, not because they’ve done anything to receive this love. What would the world look like if we treated everyone as our family members? In Richmond, I have gotten a taste of this radical love and justice that flows from spiritual families.

After being at RJP for three weeks, I have already learned so much about how justice organizing and advocacy works, especially the role of faith communities in engaging with the political sphere to advocate against injustice. My experiences this week have taught me that even when the weight and scale of injustice seems daunting, communities can (and do) mobilize together to share the burden and eliminate these injustices with their collective power. They represent God’s spiritual family as they unite against injustice in their communities, regardless of their individual difference or disagreements.

As a part of my RJP programming, I am paired up with two internship sites to experience working and engaging with justice work in Richmond more closely. The first site I work at is RISC, or Richmonders Involved to Strengthen our Communities. The organization creates a network of leaders in faith communities and congregations around Richmond and mobilizes that network to push for political reform within the city.

I have been struck by RISC’s ability to create a family of activists across Richmond. On my first week of my internship, I had the opportunity to attend RISC’s year-end celebration following the last phase of their yearly cycle of advocacy. At this celebration, I heard about the incredible work RISC has done to secure affordable housing funds from the city council and get the mayor’s attention on implementing violence intervention programs (VIPs) to eliminate gun violence in the city. However, I was more struck with the people who were at the celebration. They represented over 20 faith congregations throughout Richmond, all united around the same goal of ending injustices in their city. People of different denominations, faiths, and political affiliations in Richmond had come together to advocate for affordable housing and the reduction of gun violence. In this way, RISC’s organizers and advocates embody spiritual family by uniting against injustices experienced by those in their community.

My second – and primary – site is VICPP, or the Virginia Interfaith Center for Public Policy. VICPP unites people of faith and spirituality around the need for justice throughout the entire commonwealth of Virginia. The organization focuses on four primary issue areas: racial justice, criminal justice reform, economic/workers justice, and health equity.

One of my biggest takeaways from VICPP so far is the lessons I have learned from the staff. Each staff member is unique; they all come from diverse faith communities, regions, and families. One staff member has a long background in lobbying in Virginia politics, one staff has a history in pageant competitions and video production, and another is a former Church leader. Each one has shared with me incredible stories of successes, frustrations, and wisdom surrounding politics, lobbying, and their own religious experiences. Most of the staff members could not be more different, yet they are a family. Not only do the staff experience joy together as a family, they also unite against the same injustices regardless of their faith and political differences – only to uplift others in the spiritual family. From learning about the origins and meanings of the staffs’ names to hearing exciting stories about how notoriously stubborn state senators have changed their minds, I have seen the incredible joy formed from a spiritual family of advocates at VICPP.

Ultimately, these first few weeks at RJP have been a delightful deep-dive into the experiences of Richmonders. But they also have served as a beautiful picture of what spiritual family can be. I imagine what the world would look like if we treated everyone as our mothers, our sons, our siblings, our grandfathers, etc. How many more people would experience God’s Shalom if we acted against injustice – if we treated everyone as our family?

Week 1: Ebenezer Stone

June 27, 2022

A few months ago, I was set on being in Boston for the summer, but God had other plans. After attending Intervarsity’s Eastern Virginia (EVA) Conference in February, I was reminded of the quality of my time in Richmond and continued to feel drawn to it. From the timing to the program cost, each detail of the summer has fallen into place, and I am so thrilled to finally be back. 

Although RJP looks a lot different this year, it’s still been so refreshing to be back in a community that’s made such a strong impact on me. We had our orientation last week where we shared testimonies, volunteered at Legacy Farms, visited Richmond Hill Retreat Center, had dinner and time of prayer with EEF members, and attended a neighborhood block party. I’ve been pleasantly reminded of the small pleasures that made my summer in Richmond so rich: morning quiet times on the front porch, living only a few blocks away from so many RJP partners, applying simplicity to money and technology usage. It’s been a week of remembering the familiar rhythms and making space to cultivate new ones. Among one of the new life patterns of RJP this summer is the fact that I’m doing virtual work instead of having an in-person internship in the East End. I’m on a research team with William & Mary students and professors in collaboration with the Williamsburg nonprofit, The Village Initiative’s project called the Local Black Histories Project. So far, I’ve been compiling resources and writing short bios for families who were displaced by the government’s decision to put the Naval Weapon Station at the heart of a thriving Black fishing/farming community. I’ve also been looking at Black history in Williamsburg itself; before Colonial Williamsburg (CW) was “restored,” much of Williamsburg was habited by autonomous Black residents and business owners. I’m working on an interactive map of what Williamsburg looked like before CW dispossessed this thriving Black community. Although this work does not necessarily pertain directly to the East End, it hits on major RJP themes such as suppressed histories, spatial injustice, housing, and memory politics. 

After going on a tour of a historically Black neighborhood in the East End, Jackson Ward, I’ve been thinking a lot about the intersections between Williamsburg and the East End. In both cases, Black history has been intentionally suppressed for the promotion of white agendas. In some ways, its similarities are too strong to overlook: urban developers or historical “preservationists” leverage their power to displace thriving Black communities. The powers that be then create their own narrative about how they obtained their power, and do little (if anything) to compensate others for their own displacement. The community that existed before the interstate or Colonial Williamsburg or the Naval Weapons Station lives on through descendants, but part of their histories have been intentionally distorted or erased by people with power. In a world of gerrymandering and gentrification, where does the Gospel fit in? Where is there room for the person of Jesus in places marked by discrimination and oppression? How does Scripture invite us to engage with our past and with our communities? 

In reflecting on these questions, I’m reminded of the words of Gary Flowers, our Jackson Ward tour guide. He explained how Jackson Ward was 5x the size of Black Wall Street in Tulsa, but existed decades before. It hosted transportation and business boycotts years before the Civil Rights Movement. Jackson Ward was home to Maggie Walker, the first African American woman to charter a bank, serve as a bank president, and start one of the first “Buy Black” campaigns. However, the rest of America is not aware of these facts of community life; neither is a significant portion of Richmond residents. Gary Flowers names this “The Virginia Way”: intentionally suppressing history in pursuit of racialized profit. The Virginia Way is seen from the streets of the East End to the corners of Williamsburg. Contrary to this erasure and perverted approach to history, Gary Flowers explained the significance of the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church. Starting in 1857, this church community sought to embody their namesake: ebenezer, or “stone of help/remembrance.” In a state that seeks to forget, this community chooses to remember. 

This contrasting approach to understanding the past led me to delve more into 1 Samuel 7, where Ebenezer is most notably used. Initially, the Israelites camped at Ebenezer when the Philistines defeated them and captured the Ark, but after a long saga, the Ark was returned to the Israelites and the people of Israel began returning to the Lord– they fasted, confessed, and collectively remembered how they’d fallen short of God’s standard. And just when the Philistines decide to fire back again and all hell seems to be breaking loose, Samuel picks up a stone, names it Ebenezer, and says, “This far the Lord has helped us.” (7:12) Amidst nationalistic warfare, death, and fear, Samuel chooses to remember where God has moved in Israel’s past. “In a time when God had removed his presence from them and they had experienced defeat, they needed a visual reminder.” (‘Ebenezer’) In addition to God continually calling upon Israel to remember their past and how he drew them out of Egypt, they now had a physical monument dedicated to remembering God’s help in a time of trouble.

In a world of erasure, we serve the God of memory. In an environment that feels hopelessly trapped in “The Virginia Way,” kingdom culture raises an ebenezer. Remembrance doesn’t become a historic tourist destination. History isn’t commercialized. It isn’t cherrypicked to fit a nationalistic agenda. People’s lives and motives aren’t concealed or distorted; all is made plain before our King from Nazareth. Our past is linked to our ancestors and marked by generational sin. It’s something to continually be reminded by, whether by physical indicators or spiritual exhortation. Our past is powerful because it gives us space to name God’s faithfulness in broken places. Uncovering more of Virginia’s past feels more like the hopelessness that the Israelites felt facing the Philistines than the triumphal imagery we’ve attached to “raising an ebenezer.” Where could the Spirit be moving in the Capital of the Confederacy? In a town that’s generated its entire reputation off of promoting the era of enslavement? In a state known for weaponizing history? 

I think the gentle whisper in response to these questions lies somewhere in communities like First Baptist; communities who have withstood the traumas of enslavement, Jim Crow, and modern discrimination, and continue to tell the tale. Communities who treat history as something to gather around and bring people together. Who treat the past as relational and familial– something worth lamenting and grieving, cherishing and celebrating. History isn’t about power or profit or who wins the narrative. It’s about people. It’s about remembering how God has moved us and the people who came before us; and doing so with the raw emotions it evokes. It’s the ability to stand on two feet while the threat of a Philistine attack looms over you, and still be able to declare, “This far the Lord has helped us.” 

As I enter Richmond for another summer, I can't help but do so in a posture of remembering how God moved last summer. The constant learning, the formative friendships, the justice-oriented community-- looking back, God was so faithful in orchestrating each detail of the summer, and I can only imagine what He'll do this year. I'm thrilled to be able to share this experience with all of you, and I hope you join me in reflecting on what your personal and societal ebenezer stones look like. Amidst the empty noise of culture war and partisan debate, there is real hurt being caused by distorting historical memory-- in light of this, how can we convey that there is faithfulness in remembrance? That God cares about the true stories of the marginalized and holds corrupt people accountable? That he mourns with us as schools suppress history and the Virginia Way corrodes spiritual lives? That God doesn't just speak to us individually, but also as a nation? As we frame remembrance as worship, may we also embody the redemption seen in Isaiah 58:11-12, "The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins, and will raise up the age-old foundations; You will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings." God who was first a gardener has come to sow seeds of redemption. Cities marked by oppression will be unshackled. Old spaces will be renewed. The brokenness of our past meets the freedom of His presence. And yet, the newness in Christ comes not from forgetting the old, but redeeming it.

RJP 2021 Blogs

Week 6: Making Justice a Lifestyle

July 25, 2021

These last six weeks spent in Church Hill have come and gone by too quickly. Thinking back to the first day, we posed the question—How do you define justice? Biblically, we concluded that justice is a lifestyle that pursues shalom—the restoring of relationships to the good state God intended during creation. Practically, this is done through making the problems of neighbors our own.

This last week our work at our non-profit sites and speaker talks came to an end. The first 5 ½ weeks of RJP ingrained the need for a biblically sound understanding of the Bible to do justice well and provided many models, on both personal and communal levels, of what it can look like to live out the lifestyle of justice in our lives. We were left with a lot to process and attempt to apply to our lives outside of Church Hill.

Over the last few days, while reflecting in a secluded farmhouse and slowly tubing down the James River, each of us wrestled with what comes next. What does it look like for each of us to do the work of shalom both in the communities we return to and for the rest of our lives? We all spent time deep in conversation with God and planned short- and long-term commitments to pursue God.

There was and is so much to process through my time in the spiritually rich and diverse community of believers that is Church Hill. Currently, two things stand out as pillars for sustaining my foundation for building a lifestyle of biblical justice. The first being that committing to a lifestyle of biblical justice is going to be really hard. To truly make this lifestyle my own I need to be willing to be different than the person that mainstream society says I must be to be successful. Questions that came up during reflection include: How will I invest my money for the kingdom of God? What might my personal ministry look like? Who will I partner with? How have I been equipped to pursue justice effectively? What do I still have to submit to God? And do I even know my neighbors?

The second is remembering that the work of a lifestyle is intended for a lifetime. Similar to most people I want to solve every injustice that harms the lives of so many, but God is the one who brings about His justice according to his timeline, not mine. One of our speakers put it like this—living a life of justice for God is doing the right thing, at the right time, in the right way, and with the right expectations of God.

It’s been such a blessing to see and hear all the ways that my new friends have been formed through this program and all that they hope to share and embody through the lens of biblical justice. I am inspired by the heart that each of them holds for justice and have no doubt that they are going to change the lives of those around them. Spending six weeks to gain a lifetime of experiencing and growing closer with God has been such an amazing blessing, with the friends and mentors met along the way the cherry on top!

Week 5: Resilience in Justice Work

July 18, 2021

After four weeks of RJP, I realized how emotionally draining justice work can be. After having multiple conversations with people, I found myself saying, “it’s crazy that this is the world we live in.” Whether we’re discussing how the church has separated Jesus and justice, police brutality, white supremacy, the faults of the incarceration system, gentrification, or violence it all ended with me in disbelief of how broken the world truly is. 

I’ve had a passion for justice my whole life but never truly took the time to think about how much work it takes to enact justice in this world. I also needed to define what justice actually means. I believe justice is a complex term that contains many different aspects, but when you get to the root of it all, I think it means restoring things back to God’s original image. God intended for us all to be in right relationships. Right relationship with God, each other, ourselves, and nature. All justice falls into one of these categories.

Living a justice-filled life the way Jesus intended us to isn’t easy. Having the right people in your life is essential. Life-giving relationships help us to stay connected to God’s love and allow us to continue the fight for justice. You also have to honestly believe in what you’re fighting for and that what you’re fighting for is the best for everyone and not just yourself. Most importantly Jesus has to be your source. It’s not us that brings justice but the work of Jesus through us. When Jesus is included, it doesn’t mean justice work will go perfectly, but it means you have an eternal life-giving source that will continue to fill you to go back into the world and continue his work until his return. 

During my time in Richmond, it was encouraging to see so many people make Jesus a priority in their pursuit of justice. One person in particular that stood out to me the most was my site leader at Legacy Farms. From day one, I was able to see her passion for gardening and taking care of the land the way God intended us to. Being an urban farmer fighting for justice around food sovereignty can be very taxing work, but she always came to work with a smile on her face and was ready to do God’s work purposefully. It was evident that the work she was doing was life-giving to her, and she was a fantastic reflection of the character of Jesus.

It’s encouraging to see the fruit produced from putting in the work but discouraging when nothing happens, and it seems like no change is coming. When it seems change is slow or not happening at all, we have to continue to have faith in Jesus. In Galatians 6:9-10, Paul says that we shouldn’t get tired of doing good because when the time is right, we will reap blessings and do good to everyone when we have the opportunity. Living a justice-filled life the way Jesus intended means that we do the work and leave the results to God. Then, when the time is right, God will allow the right relationships to be restored. We may not see it right away; we may not even see it in our lifetime, but justice will be restored when the time is right. 

week 4: lament

July 11, 2021

At the beginning of the summer, we discussed a weak spot of the Western white church being triumphalism. This is the ideology that God is more present with those that succeed and not with those who suffer. Triumphalism leads us to discomfort with brokenness and shame for an inability to fix situations. In the Bible, Job was most faithful to God and yet he underwent the most brutal of suffering. In this discussion, I realized I needed to rethink my theology around the power of prayer and the role of suffering and grief in drawing me closer to Christ. God doesn’t promise that we will not suffer in this life, but He does promise to be with us in the grief. Jesus wept at the death of Lazarus, knowing fully that he would restore him to life. He lamented the suffering of our world.

What does it mean to grieve? Is it weeping, a season after suffering, a reality of daily life, or is it some other emotive state? I want to learn how to resist turning immediately to Band-Aids and even proclamation of joy and instead intentionally sit in grief. I have not cried much here. Crying is not the only expression of grief and lament, but this is indicative for me that I have not allowed myself to truly feel what God feels. We have talked about so much brokenness in the world that calls for mourning, not just work to mend.

Our discussion of lament began on Wednesday when we studied Amos 5:21-6:7 as a part of an extended Bible study on the book. Overarchingly, our study of Amos has been about the pursuit of justice as a necessary part of worship. This theme is present in the passage, but it is not all that God had for us here. Amos 6:6 says “You drink wine by the bowlful and use the finest lotions, but you do not grieve over the ruin of Joseph.” This has two important implications: when God’s heart grieves over injustice, his people should as well. In addition, the pursuit of wealth and luxury can be an escape from appropriate grief. Thus, part of fighting for justice in this world is taking the time to see others’ suffering as a cause for grief and lament. I am enmeshed in a culture that numbs itself to pain and actively runs from grief. Yet, we miss out on experiencing all that God desires for us when we do not experience the full breadth of emotions. Feeling is not something you can switch on intellectually, but it is something we can cultivate through experience.

Last Saturday, we spent the morning honoring the lives and legacies of those killed by police violence, believing that in this practice lament would occur. Often when people of marginalized identities die at the hands of police, the media focuses on what they did wrong. Instead, we took a step back and sought to see these people as God sees them; they are contributors to their community and they are uniquely made in the image of God. Death is not something they deserved but rather a result of systemic racial injustice and its many layers. I spent time learning about the life of Michael Brown. He had graduated high school 8 days before his death in a district at the center of many legislative battles seeking justice. He was an amateur rap musician who was described as a ‘gentle giant,’ and he was two days from starting a training program at Vatterott College. Michael Brown was made in the image of God.

Jesus is present in the midst of this broken world. He cares deeply for the injustices against his beloved, and desires for us to enter into lament with Him.

week 3: Redemptive community

july 8, 2021

In my quiet time throughout RJP, I’ve been going through some of the latter books of the Old Testament, and this week I landed on Amos. As I began reading, the aggressive language caught me off guard and honestly I skimmed through it because I didn’t want to put in the effort of unpacking the harsh text. Little did I know, that night we’d be starting a three-part series on the book of Amos; clearly I had something to learn. As we approached the text, I realized that the violent imagery and word choice were actually God’s response to injustice. When we analyzed the sins of the different ancient kingdoms, many of them sounded all too familiar to American society; putting profit before people, enforcing violence against women, commodifying human bodies, and perpetuating injustice through consumer demands.

As I gain more familiarity with my new context, I see far too many similarities between American empire and rebellious ancient kingdoms. Every morning as I leave my house to go to my internship, I gaze upon the grounds of a former Confederate hospital. When I walk to a park down the street, I see the river that enslaved Africans were once transported on and a statue created to remind us of Richmond’s most nefarious title: the capital of the Confederacy. On Sunday, I felt the tension of celebrating “freedom,” and “independence,” in the city that was once the second largest internal slave trade center in the U.S. As I watched the fireworks from a hill overlooking the city, I had a clear view of I-95; a dark reminder of how developers intentionally cut the highway through the thriving black community, Jackson Ward. While physical spaces serve as daily reminders of past “unfreedoms,” they also reflect current injustices. Parts of the East End have liquor or corner stores on every block, but are miles away from an affordable grocery store. The East End itself has the highest concentration of public housing per square mile south of Baltimore. The impact of gentrification is clearly visible just by taking a walk through the neighborhood. Today, Richmond has the second highest eviction rate in America, and its housing crisis reflects that. None of these realities are accidental, but all of them are within the context of intentional and systemic oppression.

Injustice isn’t new. Richmond may not be Damascus or Edom or Moab, but in many ways, it feels like the same song, just a different verse. What would it look like to redeem this space? To restore the narrative that God is a just God? To balance both racialized history/reality and the goodness of God? These are the questions that I see East End community members constantly grappling with and acting on. This redemptive perception of community inspired my internship site, Urban Hope, to pave the way to homeownership for those impacted by generational poverty. It motivated another internship site, Real Life, to offer rehabilitation programs for folks who are re-entering society. It influenced Legacy Farms to provide sustainable and affordable food to individuals who are disenfranchised by corrupt food production. Indeed, it inspired East End Fellowship to create a multiethnic community that honors God’s restorative justice. 

In the former capital of the Confederacy, kingdom work is being done. From the ashes, there is so much beauty. What better picture of restoration? While the face of injustice is still unavoidable, I am encouraged by how God has already used the people here to further his kingdom. 

week 2: Narratives

july 1, 2021

Narratives. We all have one, and I am sure plenty of people have them about us. The different narratives we tell about ourselves and others around us impact not only how we see the world, but how we see our own value. This week was our first full week at our sites. I was placed at The Salvation Army’s Boys and Girls Club, and I was so excited to begin. Within two minutes of me being there, however, I was told by someone that “you need to be prepared they never listen to you.” Also, some of the students introduced themselves to me as “the bad kids.” So, right from the start, I was confronted with this feeling that this was not going to be the joyous ride someone told me it was going to be, because of the narratives I was being told from the start. For the first whole day, I allowed myself to believe these superficial narratives created by others that I had no real reason to believe. The kids were acting like kids, but they were not bad. And the person who said that they never listened, well… I think they just did not listen as well as he would have liked them to (as all kids do). This assumption that the kids didn’t listen, that they were hard to deal with, that they wouldn’t like me- that I convinced myself to believe day one, quickly proved to be false.

One of my favorite kiddos (if I was allowed to have favorites), let’s call him Ben, loves to debate and push your buttons. He loves to poke fun and try to make you smile. I was told that he would give me so many issues, that he was difficult, etc. As I write this, I think of the first time he met me, when he helped me and encouraged me to try to make a three-point shot in basketball even though I am a TERRIBLE shot. This is the same Ben that stuck up for a middle school girl when no one else noticed that she was upset that no one was listening to her idea for a craft project. This is the same Ben who told all the kids to walk quietly in the hallway when he knew that they weren’t listening to me. This same Ben is the one who is always the first to convince everyone to try a new game that we want to try. Ben is a future leader. Maybe it’s not that Ben is difficult, maybe Ben just knows his potential.

These kids that I have worked with for a little over a week now are some of the most amazing, resilient, independent, intelligent people I have ever worked with. But what is worse than the fact that I believed these lies, is that they also believe them. If you ask most of the kids at the Boys and Girls Club, they’d tell you they were hard to deal with, that they were not good kids. The narratives that other people have told the kids about themselves have now been ingrained into their own belief system about themselves. That they’re not smart, not strong, not good enough- are common thoughts among most of the kids. Why? Because someone somewhere has instilled in them a false narrative from a worldly, harsh point of view, instead of from a God-centered narrative.

I think this message can be seen in the way that our society interacts across cultural communities and in the world today. We have been taught from a young age, whether intentionally or systemically, that white is better. That the white, western way of life is supreme, and that the way white society does things is the right way. Just like these children have been so warped to believe that they are bad, Americans have been so warped for centuries to think white is so good. This is why some of the girls at the Boys and Girls Club want to bleach their skin- lighter skin is supposedly prettier. This narrative that one skin color is better has literally been beaten into the country we live in, and this narrative will continue to be perpetuated if we don’t speak into it. Just like we must speak into the lies the children have ingrained in their heads, we must speak into the lies this country has perpetuated for centuries and speak the God-given truth. There is only one narrative that supersedes all others- God’s Word. In Proverbs 12:17-18, “When you tell the truth, justice is done, but lies lead to injustice. Thoughtless words can wound as deeply as any sword, but wisely spoken words can heal.” As Christians, we are called to speak truth into the world and to break the status quo for the justice of our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. We must remain in the narrative of God’s love and hatred for oppression, whether that be telling a child that they are a child of God or spreading God’s love to those who have been systematically oppressed for generations.

WEEK 1: IMAGO DEI, IMAGE OF GOD

JUNE 25, 2021

We arrived at around noon on Sunday, June 13th. After months of preparation, zoom calls, and prayer, we were finally in Richmond. The following week was packed with meetings, events, and tours across the city. From meeting people who are radically pursuing justice to learning more about Richmond’s direct role in the Civil War, I had a lot to unpack and process after orientation week. 

A common theme I instantly recognized among the members of East End Fellowship was their emphasis on Imago Dei. Imago Dei is the idea that all humans are created in the image and likeness of God. This idea serves as their basis for pursuing justice and loving marginalized people. I was familiar with the idea of humans being created in the Image of God, but truly did not understand its significance. During one of our meetings, we began to discuss Lisa Sharon Harper’s video based on her book The Very Good Gospel, and we wrestled with the simple question, “what does it mean to be made in the image of God?”. As a group, we threw around some thoughts and potential answers, but no one really answered the question. 

I began to reflect on what it means to be created in the image of God and what it means to treat people as image-bearers. In Genesis, God creates Adam and Eve in His own image and shares power with humanity by giving man dominion over the Earth. Sin ruined humanity’s opportunity and this led to the corruption of Earth and the creation of unjust systems. I began to see that as image-bearers, there is inherent value within all of us despite our man-made social constructs such as race, class, etc. that encourage division and hierarchy. Ultimately social constructs rooted in sin have caused humanity to treat some humans as image-bearers instead of all humans.

I think that when someone understands Imago Dei and humanity’s misconstruction of God’s design, it changes the entire narrative on pursuing justice. I had a bit of an aha-moment after finally piecing this concept together. 

So far, RJP has challenged me in unique ways by forcing me to scrutinize certain frameworks I’ve created and accepted throughout my life. I am excited to see how much my team and I will grow throughout the next 5 weeks, and can’t wait to be challenged in even more ways!

RJP 2020 BLOGS

Virtual JUSTICE PROGRAM 2020 recap

Like most of life in 2020, the Richmond Justice Program did not go on as planned. The pandemic hit right as we were accepting a promising group of applicants from schools across Virginia. As spring went on, it became clear that it would not be wise to bring students from various places to live closely together and go out in the community. Our regular program cancelled – yet another interruption of coronavirus.

As IV Justice Program directors from around the nation gathered over Zoom to lament these changes, we also began to brainstorm about what programming we could offer online. We collaborated to create a “virtual Justice Program” that could offer students a way to engage with core concepts and give them some online community to help process how to follow Jesus in their current circumstances. We had a small group of ten Virginia students go through the program, where they took a focused track on ecological discipleship and environmental justice. 

Throughout the summer, we learned about God’s care for his creation and how we can partner with him in his coming redemption of all things. We also explored the relationship between environmental issues and other justice issues such as poverty and racism. Although we lost a lot of the benefits of in-person programs, we gained the ability to have a diverse set of nationally-recognized speakers as well as the chance for students to immediately apply their learning at home.

Here are some of our students’ experiences in their own words:

“Doing the virtual justice program gave me a way to spend my summer focusing on others and learning through experiences rather than fixating on my own individual concerns or feelings of isolation during the "twin pandemics." Having others to connect and share with was so helpful because it provided a space to process and have both accountability and grace, and encouragement that I wasn't alone in wanting to move towards justice. God used the virtual alternative to meet me where I felt disconnected from Him, others, and myself. Through speakers who didn't look like me, He showed me that Jesus is so much bigger than I think He is, and that His kingdom is good news for all people and for the earth itself.”
-Sarah, Longwood ‘21 

“The most important take away was the interconnected nature of God's justice. I went into this summer slightly disappointed finding out I was doing an ecological justice track. I knew God would work through any and all wisdom I heard and that I had room to grow in that area but what I really wanted to learn about was racial justice, along with diversity and inclusion. But God was trying to teach me something deeper. I learned that racial justice is environmental justice is social justice. God brings together all things to work for His good and we do a disservice to many people, especially those in minority groups, by compartmentalizing our view of how and what to fight for on His earth. I realized that I was limiting God's power by deciding there was only one way to advocate, one way to fight, one way to stand for the oppressed and I was wrong. As I move forward, reflecting on how to be a good ancestor for those who come after me, I have decided I must be a laborer. I must do the work, reap so that those who come after me may sow.”
-Carol, JMU ‘21

“InterVarsity’s summer justice program was a source of peace and growth amidst the turmoil of a global health crisis and cries for racial justice. It was an insightful and valuable experience to learn more about myself and grow in my relationship with Jesus. Thanks to the program, I got to study the history of my family and spent a significant amount of time thinking about what it means to be a Korean immigrant and a college student in the present time. I learned to have a greater appreciation for my identities. Jesus has been the author and planter of this opportunity and realization; Jesus has drawn me nearer to his love and grace as I see more of him in the many aspects of my life. God desires that I advance His kingdom wherever I am placed in whatever ways I can. I am called to stand for justice and to be compassionate towards the socioeconomically marginalized, not to further any social or political agenda, but to share the precious love of God and to point everyone to our Lord Jesus Christ.”
-Joseph, W&L ‘22

“While mourning the loss of summer plans due to the coronavirus, the Lord began a new thing through InterVarsity’s Virtual Justice Program, which included virtual talks and small group meetings, as well as in-person volunteering with Legacy Farm in Church Hill. Through this program, I have been overwhelmed with realization after realization of just how little I know. With the help of many graceful and patient teachers, I have learned about the limitations of my Western worldview, the ways it attempts to shrink God down to my flawed understanding, and its tendency to erase the truth that the good news of the Gospel must be good news for all— for the tax collector and the Pharisee, for the enslaved and the enslaver, for creation and humanity. I know unlearning, decolonizing theology, and pursuing justice are ongoing journeys— not taken on for the sake of proving myself as an ally, but to engage with the Lord in new ways and love His people as He calls me to— and I’m excited to continue this pursuit beyond the end of this program, in Charlottesville this fall and through the rest of my life. I’m thankful to have spent the summer in such a rich learning community, being encouraged by speakers, staff, and students, and connecting with the Lord in new ways.”
-Abby, UVA ‘21

rjp 2019 blogs

Summer 2019 conclusions

Below, you can read some of our interns’ reflections on the summer. Join us in praying for their continued growth back on their campuses!

I think RJP more than anything has shown me what it means to put grow in community for the sake of the gospel. Through team meetings, house bible studies, daily sacrifices and the continued emphasis on Jesus' care for us all, I learned that to do His work, I must start at home in the nitty gritty experiences.
-Kerith

The Richmond Justice Program is a program of stepping into the light and of realizing the sin outside our sight. It reveals what I was ignorant of, and that awareness itself is grace from God for which I'm so thankful. "Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. It is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. But everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light. This is why it is said: “Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
-Matthew

Before RJP, I viewed things from a black and white lens, especially when it comes to social justice. It was either you're fighting the system or you're racist and I need to fight you. I also had questions about why God is doing nothing about what's going on. Coming to RJP really opened my eyes to people. That everybody is learning and that change doesn't have an age limit. I also learned that God really does care A LOT about the poor and destitute. This really drew me to God and now how I operate is totally different.
-LaNija

RJP was a time and place structured specifically to bring different people together, which are pretty far and few between in my life, so it literally just gave me a huge unavoidable opportunity to sit and learn with and from (particularly) peers of mine of African descent. Therefore, I think I learned a lot from those now friends of mine and formed relationships wherein future growth can continue to occur. If nothing else, I built those relationships this summer and realistically that is the most important thing to me.
-Paul

I came into the program wanting to hear from God more and wanting to learn how to communicate with others more effectively. In pursuit of that, I've been challenged to spend more time in the Word and to be vulnerable with my housemates, sharing basically everything I've struggled with in my life and in my faith. From that, I've seen other people being more open to share about their struggles and testimonies, which has allowed me to understand and love the better. While God didn't always speak in the way I had expected or hoped, He did speak in the midst of our trials. And for me, that was so much more powerful.
-Kiana

For a long time I closed myself off from the injustice that was happening in the black community because it hurt me. I felt as though I couldn't do anything about it. For a long time I felt as though my blackness was stripped away from me and I was always abused by my own community. RJP and God really showed me that there is more to being black than cursing, drinking, and twerking and we have a whole history that Black men and women have died and have chosen to be enslaved again just so I and others like me can be free.
-Nala

When I walked into this program, I didn't want to talk about justice issues, racism specifically, partly because I felt uneducated. More-so than that, as a white woman it sometimes felt like I didn't belong in the conversation. Leaving this program, I have not only learned how to have a conversation about these things, but that I have a seat at the table, even if all I should be doing is listening there. Before the trip, I thought I would have to be coming up with the solutions, fixing problems of the past, carrying that burden myself. What I missed is that in order to know what people need, I need to ask them gentle questions and sit and listen to how they see things being resolved.
-Abby

Week 3: Fundraising and a Good Lesson in Humility

July 1, 2019

In America we really like the idea of earning things. I mean, who wouldn’t? If you earn something then you don’t just have it by random chance, but you deserve to have it. It’s yours, and nobody else gets a say in what you do with it, and that makes us comfortable. It’s not just our money we want to earn; even for gifts we start to get the idea that we earn them. Think about Christmas: we tell kids all year that they can earn gifts through good behavior and if they’ve done what their parents say. Then when Christmas comes we’re wondering why our kids are less than grateful… it’s because “earned it” and “deserved it”, it wasn’t even a gift at all in their minds.

In the Richmond Justice Program we fundraise to a general program fund. We all send our own letters and spread the word, but in the end, all we raise ends up in the same place. At first, if I’m honest, this rubbed me the wrong way. After all, I was fully funded to my individual goal, but then when I told this to staff, expecting some sort of congratulations I was told. “Awesome, now you can keep going and help others who haven’t reached their goal.” I was taken back. Wasn’t I done? After all my emails and licking envelopes hadn’t I earned all the money I need and didn’t I deserve a break from this whole fundraising thing?

If I send out letters to my extended family and close friends and my friend in this program does the same, we both craft our letters with the same care and pray just the same, and after all that I am fully funded and they aren’t, in what way did I earn to be fully funded and they didn’t earn it? Due to how wealth is unequally distributed some people have access to wealthier networks solely based on things outside of their control. I didn’t earn being born into my family as opposed to another, so if having a wealthy family that are generous Christians is the main reason why I am fully funded then how can I claim I “earned” it?

Greed and pride. They make me feel like I earn a lot of things at times, even the love of God. In the same way, greed and pride can make me feel like my fundraising is due to myself rather than God’s graciousness. But through this community I’ve realized that I’ve been given the privilege to help others. I don’t have to fundraise, but get to help my brothers and sisters in Christ by giving access to my network. After all, if I didn’t “earn” it, but rather it was grace, then I can give freely. I can give it to those who don’t “deserve it”, while keeping in mind that the category of those who didn’t earn their fundraising includes me.

-Matthew Houff, UVA ‘21

Week 2: Juggling is Like Urban ministry

June 24, 2019

When I began week two at CHAT (Church Hill Activities and Tutoring) I found myself being kind of nervous, even though I’d made the decision to follow through with things that I felt uncomfortable with. So this past Friday was the showcase, and a week or two before, we had agreed as a house to learn a new skill. Jerry was going to learn how to play a song on the guitar, LaNija wanted to learn how to parallel park/do ten push-ups, Paul wanted to learn how to make bread, Azrael wanted to learn to shuffle cards, and I wanted to learn how to juggle. So I decided to sign up at the showcase and allowed that to motivate me to learn how to juggle faster. Each day for about 10 to 15 minutes, out of a total of two weeks, I would practice. During these times I found myself getting frustrated because I would start, then stop because I didn’t feel comfortable. I would start off with the juggling balls in my hand, which were old tennis balls wrapped In tape. By this point in the two week process, I had an idea of how to juggle because Levi showed me how to the first time the idea came to mind. He was my example which made learning a little easier, but that didn’t take away from the difficulty of learning. I would start off with three juggling balls and only alternate two. Then I would move on to doing the motion with three and then completely mess up and drop all of the juggling balls. At times I questioned whether or not I would be able to learn because I’d messed up so many times. I questioned whether or not it was a valuable skill and almost decided to give up simply because I didn’t see any immediate value in it.

I approached my second week of ministry the same way while at CHAT. I wasn’t really confident, but I was willing to learn, even if that meant that I would mess up sometimes. I just wanted to be consistent and continue in a posture that communicated that I was willing to do whatever it was that God wanted me to do in my life even if I wasn’t immediately good at it. In a similar approach, this ministry experience was kind of intimidating because for me this is something that I want to do but I didn’t feel fully prepared for. Throughout this week, I’ve been reminded that all great things start off small and just because I may look ridiculous when I start that doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way.

-Trayvon Estey, Taylor University ‘19

WEEk 2: Lamenting and Longing - A Super Full Week

June 21, 2019

This past week has been very intense going into the 3rd week of RJP. This is the week when we begin working on our sites, planning VBS, and having longer schedules. As an RJP group, we started going over the book of Nehemiah and continuing the discussion of what lament is and why it's important. While working at my site (YouthLife Foundation of Richmond), I began to see the brokenness of Richmond's history that affects the teenagers I work with. As an African American male, I was shocked about the pain and trauma that the many men, women, and children experience on a daily basis. This revealed to me how blessed and privileged I was growing up as a child and how I can use my privilege to benefit and serve the community.

During this week, we watched a very intense limited series called "When They See Us". This show showed the injustices of a true story that involved teenage boys of color who were framed for a crime they did not commit. When the episode ended, I was filled with tears and didn't speak a word. I was saddened by the pain and torture these young men went through and that God's Creation had the capacity to commit this evil action. That Saturday, we spent the morning on a tour of the historic trail of enslaved Africans in Richmond. This brought tremendous weight to my heart. Ecclesiastes 1:18 reads, "For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief." God revealed to me this week that we as a nation and as a kingdom of God need to lament for the brokenness of our nation's history. I'm still processing it all with the Lord and continue to call on Him for guidance. Praise Him for His redemptive power.

-Michael Sowell, GMU ‘21

WEEK 1: orientation

June 17, 2019

This past week whirled by before I even realized it was over. Orientation to RJP was more intense than I expected and I learned a lot more about Richmond than I was expecting. As a group, we started the week with each house group taking a tightly budgeted shopping trip. Some did better than others but we can all generally agree that it was a massive struggle to prepare for three meals a day for a week with a bunch of strangers. With our shopping trip out of the way, we all went on a bike tour of some historic locations in Richmond. This tour started in Libby Hill, which overlooks the James river and features a sky-scraping statue of a confederate soldier. Learning the history of what was once called Powhatan River and how there was a port nearby that was once used for the slave trade put what I had leaned in grade school in a real life lens. Suddenly it felt like it was more than a story my history teachers told me of people in some distant past. We continued the tour and landed in Chimborazo park, once the site for the largest Civil War hospital then later a freedmen's community which included a school to teach newly released slaves how to read and write, is now a beautiful park to bike, walk, picnic, rest in. This location had so much history and I felt like I could visualize each story and see where the nurses would get their clean bandages as they ran to save a wounded soldier or where the newly freed men and women would sit and eagerly listen to their teachers. This city has immense history and starting the week with a historical tour was a perfect preface to these next six weeks. 

As we continued through the week, we studied scripture together and prepared our hearts to hear what God wants to tell us through this summer. We prepared for these next six weeks in the best ways possible. Praying for and with each other, worshiping the Lord side by side, and sitting at the feet of people who have lived in this community longer than we have been alive and listening to how they have seen this community change are just a few of the ways we have gotten ourselves involved in the Richmond community as well as built our own RJP community. Personally, I have already heard God speaking to me, telling me how I need to rest in and rely on Him and Him alone as well as how he has so much in store for me and my team. I’m learning what it’s like to have roommates (who aren’t my parents and siblings) and live with people of different cultures. It’s already been so enriching, I cannot wait to see how the rest of the summer pans out.

rjp 2018 blogs

Week 7 : Home

July 26, 2018

“Where are you from?”  This seems to be one of the biggest questions everybody asks when getting to know someone new.  Well, I could tell you where my family’s from—going in-depth on how my grandmother on my father’s side immigrated from Thailand, or how my mother’s great-great-greats came from the Netherlands—or I could tell you about where my family members live, or where my parents reside, or where I go to college…but I never know how to fully answer that question.  Some people try to help by asking where I grew up, but even that answer is complicated. I grew up moving every 2-3 years of my life, living in 7 different US states and 2 other countries all before the age of 17. On one hand, I’ve been blessed to experience and engage with multiple cultures and I wouldn’t trade that for the world; on the other hand, I have struggled with the idea of belonging, especially as I’ve gotten older because so many people have lived in the same place their whole lives.  Sometimes I feel like an outsider trying to fit in because I don’t know where I belong.

There is a great fear when getting to know new people, especially when we don’t know their background, their culture, or their native tongue.  As a sojourner, it’s surprisingly easy to disassociate from society because it seems safer to step back than to draw more attention to yourself; but disassociating can also be incredibly lonely.  I am thankful that my parents encouraged me to press into different communities rather than stepping away because I would have just made assumptions of people instead of getting to know them. While being a part of the Richmond Justice Program, we have been encouraged and challenged to focus on building community (which is why we’ve fasted from various social media platforms).  It’s difficult to press into community and the kids I work with sometimes because this program only lasts for this short summer, but community, no matter where or how long you’re there for, is incredibly important. Some of the previous blog posts have talked about the importance of community, shalom, and neighboring; and have also talked about the challenges of being intentional with community.  But what about people who are new to a community? What do we do then?

We recently visited an organization that works with refugees and immigrants to help them as they acclimate to the city and country; teaching them English, encouraging leadership development, and more.  As someone who has moved constantly, I find myself relating to the immigrant community: it is difficult to find community when everybody else seems to have already settled. Imagine what it’s like for someone to move without even knowing the language or culture.

If you read the book of Mark you’ll find that there are many themes, and one particularly revolves around the kingdom of God.  God created people for good. His intention was for relationships to flourish and for people to live in harmony. However, as sin entered our world, the beautiful dynamics have been broken; people fight and harm one another, which brings dangerous situations and fear.  People leave their homes to seek refuge, but even they are marginalized as they try to find new homes. Mark shows a lot of Jesus’ love and compassion for others; he cared so much that he healed the sick, dined with tax collectors, and more because he came to restore the broken relationships.  In the words of Tim Keller:

To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial.  To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God.  It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.

God fully knows and fully loves us, and he asks us to do the same.  No matter where you are or what your circumstance is, you can still build relationships with those around you.  Yes, there is a great fear when getting to know new or different people, but that fear inhibits us from creating and building relationships with those around us.  We all are image-bearers of Christ; if we let fear stand in our way, how can we move forward in love? There are many things we can do to bring justice to the marginalized and to spread the love of Christ.  God has made us unique for a purpose; we have different talents so we can reach out to different people. I ask that you research what people groups lives in your communities and how you can be a part of creating a culture where Christ is the center rather than selfish ambition.

Where am I from?  Eh, I’m from everywhere, really, but I have found my home in the Lord.

-Karese Kaw-uh, CNU ‘19

Week 6: Culture Creators

July 18, 2018

This summer the interns have committed to being present in the Richmond community. We have sacrificed many of our daily treasures in order to follow through with this commitment. I personally think two of our biggest sacrifices have been to give up our access to technology (phones and computers) and give up our money (credit cards and cash). It’s been difficult in numerous ways but because of our sacrifices, we have grown closer together as interns and grown closer with the Richmond community in ways I doubt would have been possible if we were to all stare at our cell phones whenever we wanted.

I believe these are just some of the ways we are trying to create a culture which is God-centered. We are striving to follow the greatest commandments: love your God and love your neighbor. In doing so, we have to be aware of not only ourselves, but also the place around us. We discuss a lot about not only our own stories and journeys, but also the larger stories of Richmond and America. As God’s people, we strive to see how God has been working in the good and the bad of our stories and join him as he works to bring his kingdom here. By giving up our phones and money, we already got rid of two major idols which distract us from God and from each other. But more than that, we try to fill that time and space with ways to draw closer to God and serve our communities. Eventually we seek to bring phones and money (among other numerous things) back into our lives not to serve our own purposes but to serve God’s purposes. It’s a little weird because it sounds like this huge social and mental battle but practically, it’s making a bunch of small choices. It’s these little ways that we have learned to pick up our crosses daily as we follow Jesus into his kingdom.  

-Krunal Patel, UVA '18

Week 5.5 : Mind Dump, I’m Becoming Undone

July 12, 2018

I’ve experienced a great deal since I’ve resided here in Richmond for the past five weeks, and I feel myself becoming more and more undone. Coming into this, I knew there was much work to be done within my own heart (as there always seems to be); although it feels like the more I work on myself, the more work seems to be gleaming at the horizon, more questions that need answering, more questions about my own identity, and more questions about the grand human narrative of our existence. This encompasses culture making, conquest, oppression, love, hate, and a churning tornado of other key concepts.  It seems almost counterproductive in a way. I thought I was working toward something, being built up, a rapid incline of knowledge and understanding, but I’m only becoming unraveled--broken down. There’s a small voice that echoes in my mind and says this is what needs to be done, you must first be completely dismantled before you can be put together again. Another voice replies, Again? Were you ever together to begin with? I don’t think so.  All this talk of the painfully masked narrative of Richmond that became the economic foundation of our country through slavery and how this became intertwined with white supremacy, assimilation, and exploitation of minorities almost feels above my ability to comprehend at some points; yet, it puts my own life into perspective.

Where do I fit in this story? How have I been affected by racial injustice? Have I been unintentionally assimilating into the dominant white American culture? Is this something to be shameful of? Should I begin exploring my own ethnicity as a black man and try to fit more into the picture that society paints of what blackness should look and sound like? Am I too far gone? What does God think about it? These are only a handful of the questions that seem to make me come undone.

Sometime during the beginning of the program, myself, my fellow interns the were all describing unique ways to individually love each other well during our time here. I decided to jump on the bandwagon of hugs while the opportunity presented itself. So far it has actually been pretty helpful. Although there is was one particular hug that I have received a couple times that seems to cause a different kind of response in me. This hug feels patriarchal...paternal, fatherly. I guess that's the best way I can describe it, and secretly I want it to linger on for eternity.  It seems to be the most comforting of hugs and it triggers something within my heart. It's like a breath of fresh air and a weight lifted off my shoulder without words. (not to negate everyone else's much appreciated physical affection) *Gross Milo, get your life together my dude* Could this be from an absent Father in my own life? Have I really missed out on something?  Is there something instinctive in me the still yearns for a lingering, fatherly embrace. Is it all just in my head? What has helped shape this part of my story to be the way that it is? These questions makes me come undone.

I was having lunch with two of my favorite CHAT kids this past week, (not that I have actual favorites), okay, I have actual favorites. ten year old Jasmine was telling me her story. She spoke of the various shelters she's had to live in and the uncertainty of her whereabouts once the CHAT program was over. She explained how she was often put in uncomfortable situations like having to share a room with complete strangers and how "gross" the food that was served was. She spoke of the "crackhouses" that surrounds where she is currently residing and how dangerous all the other surrounding neighborhoods are. Ten year old Xavier agreed in a childlike voice, "Mosby Court? Oh yeah, that's death, death, death! I hear gunshots there all the time. I wish we can live somewhere with peace." "Yeah, like the Blue Ridge Mountains or something", exclaimed Jasmine. I'm not sure if it was their circumstances or the innocence in their voices but I became a smidge more dismantled. I felt a small brick thrown at the fortified wall that guards my emotions. These kids' stories are actually not too far from my own, and maybe I've somehow managed to normalize my own experience. Is God trying to show me something?  I may need to do so more digging. Please pray for me as I continue to unearth bits of dirt within my own story with what seems to be a small, metal spoon, the same spoon I'm using to serve the Church Hill community.
 

-Milo Miller, TCC ‘18

week 5: Hope in Jesus

July 11, 2018

This summer has certainly been a whirlwind. We have been given so much information on the many injustices that exist in this country and a lot of it is hard to digest and process. Sometimes, it is hard to find the ability to smile when I look at the kids I am serving because I know that the odds are against them. The systems are working against their success.

However, last week we studied Philippians 2, which gives a lot of hope to us by describing the nature of Jesus and who He is. The Son was willing to come down to earth and give up everything, including power to take on a human body with many imperfections. Not only that, he lived in poverty, among the weak and was considered weak Himself. Naturally, no one would ever think that someone like him would be the one who has come to save the world from sin. Despite all of that, Jesus conquered death and was exalted, glorifying the Father through his ultimate act of love and humility.

Like Him, we are called to love and live humbly, “[valuing] others are [ourselves]” and “looking to...the interests of the others” (Philippians 2:3-4). Jesus never said it would be easy, but because He has paid the ultimate price, “nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God” (Romans 8:39). Jesusl’ ultimate sacrifice allows us to serve and to follow in Jesus’ footsteps with hope. It may not look like it will get better, the injustices may appear to multiply, but He has finished it already. He has won the battle.

So now we are able to smile even though things get tough. Now, we have hope that things will get better. And understanding this allows me to smile at my kids because I trust that our Father has a plan for them, that He has created them with a purpose in mind. He calls them His, created them in His image. And now when they smile at me, I see Jesus smiling through them and I smile too.

- Evangeline Hsieh, W&M ’20

week 3.5: From Pinch Pots to vases

June 28, 2018

I arrived in Richmond for the Richmond Justice Program Internship about three weeks ago. I didn’t know what to expect. All I knew was that there were 10 other strangers (interns) that I would be doing life amongst and we would be serving the city of Richmond. I knew God had called me to this place for a reason, but I was having doubts about why I was there. I felt like I didn’t belong. For those of you who don’t know, I was born with Cerebral Palsy.  Cerebral Palsy is a disorder that affects muscle tone, movement, and motor skills. Cerebral Palsy has affected my legs and has caused me to be in a wheelchair. I felt like my disability would get in the way or I couldn’t fulfill the mission God called me to.

However, In the midst of my doubts, I immediately felt love from all the interns. The more I wasn’t afraid to press into community and we got to know each other, the more I felt like I belonged. While immersing myself in the city of Richmond, I also began to look around at the community in the East End where we’ve been working. I saw how deeply they pursued their love for God together. When one struggled, they all struggled. I saw how the Spirit led them in worship every Sunday despite the struggles they’ve been through and how they prayed for one another fervently. I started to realize this was more than a community, this was a family.

Everything I had been longing for was right in front of me- I just couldn’t see it. The interns loved me despite my disability and the challenges that came with it. They loved me the way God loved me and that made all the difference. I did belong in this internship. God did call me here. No, I was not qualified, but God doesn’t call the qualified he qualifies the called. And it’s not just that I need this community- not to brag, but this summer wouldn’t be the same without me. ;) Like it says in 1 Corinthians 12:12-27, every part of the body is necessary.

I’m starting to look at community differently and I’m realizing that community isn’t perfect. That everyone in a community is vital. That no matter the role you play there’s no part that is greater and no part is less. All of me is accepted and all of me is valued.

In closing, I want to share a poem I wrote. It expresses the difficulty and joy of undergoing the transformation God is bringing about this summer:

Let me be clay in the midst of your hands
Move me, stretch me, please do what I can’t
Make me something you want me to be
And when things get hard
Lord, soften me
You are the potter and I am the clay
I give up control, Lord have your way
In the midst of your hands, I am renewed
For you are the God who makes all things new

From pinch pots to vases
you’ve been with me through all phases
There are cracks in your creation
But I am build on a firm foundation
You are refining me through the fire
Through the mud and through the mire
When you are finished I’ll be your masterpiece
Until then your works will not cease
Let me be clay in the midst of your hands
Move me, stretch me, please do what I can’t

- Miriam Washington, TCC

Week 3: Shalom

June 26, 2018

In a recent letter from a friend I was asked the question “what state of mind has occupied you most while being at RJP?” She then suggested some responses: Excitement? Curiosity? Anxiety? Anger at injustice? Each of these feelings have characterized my heart and mind at some point during these past few weeks. However, there was one word that I felt best described my overall feelings: peace.  

Last night, we had the privilege of hearing from Gina Maio, former head of school at Church Hill Academy, on the topic of Shalom and the Kingdom of God. Not only does shalom describe a feeling of internal peace, but it also embodies external justice in society as people are brought into right relationships, wholeness and righteousness. I was struck by this idea and the way God desires for shalom to reign in this city and all of creation. 

Despite the hard conversations we have had surrounding various issues like education injustice, broken health systems and the dark history of this city, I have found peace in the never-changing character of our God who is always good and always just. When the kids refuse to listen or stay in the room at camp, God is humbling me to call on Him as my deliverer from all trouble. As we have heard from numerous community members in both Church Hill and the Northside, I’ve been encouraged by the ways God is already actively using His people to bring about justice in this city. Being able to share my heart during one-on-one discipleship time and intentionally delighting in rest and the Lord every Sunday have made me more aware of who God is and who I am in relationship to Him. The interns and staff that God has purposefully surrounded me with have served as a constant source of joy while also teaching me as I see different aspects of God’s character reflected in each member of the group. 

Timothy Keller describes shalom as the “complete reconciliation, a state of the fullest flourishing in every dimension- physical, emotional, social and spiritual- because all relationships are perfect and filled with joy.” This is a beautiful picture of what our group is hoping God will bring to this city. Since being here, it has become so evident how desperately we need this shalom that comes from Christ. As we long for the truest shalom that is Jesus, I invite you to join us in this mission to build shalom through relationships with others while also watching for the ways God is offering you His gift of peace.

- Rachel Delaney, UVA '21

week 2.5: Such "Cute" Kids

June 23, 2018

There is a kid in my CHAT day camp huddle group who got upset with me today for using the word “cute” too frivolously. I’d told one huddle group member that her prayer jar looked “SO cute” only minutes after telling this particular child that his Noah’s ark model looked “super cute!” Instinctively, I defended myself with something along the lines of: “Everything is cute. God himself is cute and He created cute children like you so that you could create cute things like model arks and prayer jars!”

He rolled his eyes but I dug my heels in on my statement, and I’ve since been reflecting on a couple different definitions of the word:

Cute
/kyo͞ot/ adjective

1. Informal (originating from Acute)
Having or showing a perceptive understanding or insight: shrewd

2. Attractive in a pretty or endearing way

Yeah, I think God is pretty "cute". I think He has demonstrated His perceptive understanding and insight already this summer in His calling each of us (11 interns and 4 staff) into Richmond together to live, learn, serve, explore and grow closer to Him. He’s been shrewd in the ways He’s taught me more about Richmond in the past 2 weeks than I’d learned in the past 20 years, having grown up 25 minutes southwest of here. He is a really super ‘cute God; putting friends, neighbors, and heart-wrenching realities of injustices in our paths at precisely the moments we were aching to receive and address them. 

And I think the second definition accurately embodies how God designed and created each one of us – each RJP intern, RUMI resident, Church Hill neighbor and CHAT kid… attractive because we are all His image bearers, of course, but especially endearing. Time here in Richmond thus far has challenged me not only in complex, intellectually stimulating ways (corporate repentance, dismantling systems, etc… kinds of ways), it’s also allowed me space to recognize cuteness in people often overlooked and circumstances often perceived as empty or hopeless. 

Because what I’m realizing is that ‘cute’ actually is far too trite of a word to describe the beauty, vastness and wonder of the cross. I don’t even think there exists a word or combination of words to fully describe how awesome Jesus is and how clearly He is visible in this city, in this neighborhood, and in each cute little child He has us serving this summer.

-Jen Foliaco, UVA ‘19

WEEK 2: Love your Neighbor!

June 20, 2018

Even before I became a Christian I was familiar with this phrase. To me, it used to serve as a moral reminder of the importance of being compassionate, especially to people who are ostensibly different from me. But that only covers a part of its meaning. I like to tell myself that I love my neighbors well, but I also (erroneously) like to think of loving neighbors in its broadest terms. Don’t be prejudiced. Be caring to all. What God has been showing me in my time participating in the Richmond Justice Program is that this verse is not just an orientation: it is an invitation—or rather, a call to action—to build meaningful relationships across the lines that we ourselves have drawn. 

I realize how obvious this sounds, but truthfully, I do struggle to put it into practice consistently. Most of the time, I would rather not initiate a greeting or a conversation with a stranger. Or with people I don’t know particularly well. Or, half the time, with people I know extremely well. However, with the encouragement and examples of my fellow interns and community members, I have started to see how active neighboring is not so daunting. Sometimes, neighboring is as simple as waving to the people sitting on their porches in Church Hill. Many other times, it means sharing meals and stories with our fellow Richmond Urban Ministry Institute residents, most of whom have spent time in prison but are now in the process of earning degrees and job searching. Neighboring can even take the form of prayer for a stranger on the spot, like when we didn’t have money to offer the homeless man who approached us, but who did allow us to pray for him right then and there. 

These interactions begin small, and some will be with people who we won’t have the chance to pour into more deeply. Through God, though, and with time and intention, we do hope to cultivate meaningful relationships in the Richmond community that do justice to the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves.

-Olivia Brashears, UVA ‘21

week 1: getting oriented

June 13, 2018

We arrived in Richmond on Wednesday, June 6th. The week passed by in a blur, but also feels as if we have been here for a month. Primarily, our time has consisted of learning about the history of Richmond and all of its secrets. The secret slave trade, the deliberate destruction of poor African-American communities, and the continued racism propagated by the Richmond government especially in the sphere of education were just some of the things we learned. On the flip side, we learned about all the ways God has continued to work in Richmond through incredible people like Benjamin Campbell, Pastor James Wilkins, and Pastor Don Coleman who have all sought Biblical justice through the power of Christ. Now, we are preparing for the bulk of our summer work by attending and taking part in CHAT orientation. In the days ahead, we will learn about how to work with the kids, both professionally and personally, as well as, begin to pray and dedicate them and their summer to the Lord. 

-Cameron Woo, UVA '19

the beginning

June 7, 2018

Friends, Family, Ministry Partners - we are so excited to keep you updated this summer on the Richmond Justice Program Blog. Each week a few of our interns will post here with stories and things about what they are experiencing. So far, we are all getting settled in to Richmond. Half of us are staying at the Richmond Urban Ministry Institute (RUMI) while the other half is living in a house in Church Hill (The Hill House). We are in the midst of our program orientation and interns will begin orientation at their work site, Church Hill Activities and Tutoring (CHAT), next week. 

Please be praying for us this week as the interns process the history of Richmond, topics of justice and race, the new restrictions set on their life regarding money and technology, and the overall community being built here at the Richmond Justice Program.

We will update you with more next Wednesday!

-The Richmond Justice Program Staff Team

Lisa Keller, Connor Clark, Katie Yu, Katie Hazelton