Sidewalk conference

"Let's meet on the corner of Presstman and Strickler," said the voice on the other end of the phone. My friend Mary and I were being chauffeured around a sketchy neighborhood of Baltimore by my dad, who was talking to his friend on speakerphone. My dad was giving us a tour of urban outreach efforts in that city, in the hopes that it would help us as we processed our futures. They agreed on a time to meet, and we headed that direction.

What a weird place to meet.

We drove past one abandoned house after another. And another. And another. Gradually, the area started to look better-- not great, but noticeably better. My dad began filling in some of the gaps. "This area used to be worse than what we just drove through. Allan and his wife moved here to Sandtown about 20 years ago and have committed themselves to this neighborhood. He started a church with Mark Gornik, and they partnered with Habitat for Humanity and have renovated about 300 houses so that people here can afford to own their own homes. They've established a presence in this neighborhood, and it's come such a long way since they moved here."

And then my dad went on, "I don't know if I told you, but Allan is in a wheelchair-- he's a quadriplegic." Sure enough, as we approached the appointed meeting spot, there was a man sitting in a large wheelchair on the corner.

Isn't he nervous sitting out there in such a vulnerable spot in this neighborhood?

Little did I know. For the next twenty minutes or so, Allan Tibbels talked to us about the New Song church and what they had been doing in Sandtown, how they were seeking to bring the love of Christ to that community and to see Him renew it-- spiritually, physically, economically. He and his wife gave their lives to it. It was a little hard to concentrate because people kept interrupting-- they just wanted to say "hi" to Allan or to ask him a quick question about getting the keys to their new house or to say "thank you" for something he'd done or set up for them. It was clear that each of these people respected and loved this man.

He told us great and exciting stories of the ongoing transformation of that neighborhood. But when we left, Mary said to me, "I think the biggest testimony to the work he's done here is seeing him interact with the people from the community. You don't just get respect from people like that-- he must have earned it."

This past weekend I was on my way to the Revival 2K10 conference that the New Song Baltimore church was hosting. I had been planning to go ever since I first heard about it, but almost backed out after I moved up to NYC and realized it was more challenging to get down there. But I'd told Allan that I was coming, and I was looking forward to seeing him again, hoping to hear more from him about what things they had planned for their neighborhood. On my way down there I got a text from my dad: "Did you hear that Allan Tibbels died yesterday?"

I hadn't.

I only met the man that one time, and we couldn't have talked for more than twenty minutes. But I have thought often about the challenge that he didn't even have to verbalize-- his own life was a challenge in itself, as he gave all of himself to show Christ more clearly to those around him. He makes me think of one of my favorite quotes by Jim Elliott: "Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." Allan Tibbels did that-- he never let the confines of his wheelchair prevent him from "being all there" in Sandtown, Baltimore. And what a legacy he left as a result, to the glory of God.