Anthony Grimes

Here's a poem I performed for my good friend, Angie Curington's second grade class at Palmer Elementary––an inner-city school in Denver. I tried to write it to their level of understanding, which I believe is the first step of good communication. I wrote it in 20 minutes, so I'm exctited to expand it even more. As part of our time, I shared a little about the artform of poetry and got to help them practice performing poems for their poetry day today. Schools are begging for adults to spend time with their kids. We should take more advantage of it.    

I know who you are, really.

And deep down you know too but you’re afraid to speak it because it seems a bit silly. 

And maybe your daddy or mommy or brother or sister 

forgot to tell you today, but who you are is special in every way.

You were not made to sink in your chair

and scratch your hair like a baboon. 

This classroom is a space shuttle, not a zoo

you are an astronaut made to dance on the moon of your dreams.

Take flight and soar.

You are a lion ready to roar 

and let out the sound of your passion 

for the world to hear. 

You are not the curse that the bully spoke.

His throat was a pit of lies 

because in your eyes

I see a hero far above the number zero.

You are the sum total of greatness 

When your hands are not blocking your sneeze,

they are grasping the cure to every disease

Maybe you will use them to comfort a crying friend 

Or perhaps to hit the game winning shot giving your team a win,

You are the wind that will sail our future

and this classroom is merely a dock 

waiting for your to push the world forward.

We were well into the award ceremony at Denver Seminary when I was beginning to think that maybe they had invited me by mistake. President Mark Young called name after name, but none of them were mine. I thought about walking out, running to my car, and driving home. Instead, I sat next to my family fidgety––congratulating my peers as they all received honors, convinced I wouldn’t receive any.  

I had given up the idea of being awarded by this school a long time ago. I figured my mouth was too big––that I spoke too loudly about the matters of race and justice on campus. A year ago, a resigning thought sprung into my mind: ‘prophets don’t get awards.’ I could be prophetic or honored, but never both. And I made the choice that day to be prophetic. I made that choice because I wanted to love vulnerable, ethnic students who needed someone to voice their struggle. Being a voice to them was worth more to me than anything else. A voice I was. Sometimes my tone was inviting and other times it was bold. Some people wanted to hear my message, and others ignored it for the lighter tune of pleasantry. 

But most days I stepped onto campus I didn’t feel anything like a prophet; I felt like a broken man letting people see the experiment and chaos that was my life. I publicly wrestled with questions that arrested my being. I wrote to my professors telling them I needed extensions on papers because I was depressed. I would see a good friend studying in the library and interrupt him because I needed to talk. When I remember seminary, I remember myself more as a weak-kneed boy than a stern-faced hero. I soon discovered that my voice was appreciated when the homiletics department gave me the preaching award at last year’s ceremony. Maybe I was wrong, maybe prophets do get awarded. 

The president paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “We have one final award. The Carey S. Thomas Award for Excellence in Christian Leadership and Service presented by the faculty and students of Denver Seminary in recognition of best exemplifying true biblical servant leadership on campus and in the community as demonstrated in academic excellence, in spiritual maturity, and in a consistent display of Christian character. We give this award to Anthony Dean Grimes.” 

The Denver Post wrote a special on Marray Napue, a special young man I've mentored since he was in high school. He's come from the bottom, but is rising to the top--a bit like a guy named Joseph in the Bible: 

http://www.denverpost.com/news/ci_20348995/i-had-choice-between-being-ga...

We have a lot of exciting news to tell you about!

As you know, we came on with Issachar this last year to discern what ministry the Lord may be calling us to start in Denver. As we prayed, read the needs of the city, and spoke to wise counsel, we have decided that the best way that we can serve the city is by planting a multiethnic church in the heart of Denver. 

For the last year, our church, Wellspring, has asked us to consider planting a church with their support and guidance. We have just recently accepted their invitation into a 2 year internship that will align with the work we already do while prepare us for a church plant. The two year internship will cover the major areas of church planting––everything from the rationale for church planting to the development of a core team. In fact, we hope that many from our church will join us for this plant.  

Ministry Highlights 

• Last Wednesday, we closed on a house in Northeast Parkhill near where I grew up. This was a very strategic investment for our ministry, as it allows us to live among the people we disciple, and helps us to be hospitable! We love our new home! A couple days ago, our new neighbor said, "Welcome to the hood!" I explained that I was from here and we started a conversation that I hope will form a new relationship.

• Ra'mone, a high character and very gifted apprentice at Issachar will be living with us so that we can mentor him from even closer quarters. Ra'mone has been one of the highlights for us this past year and we are excited to invite him into our family.

• We're working through spiritual autobiographies with our apprentices on Friday mornings.We help them process their lives and discern where God was for them growing up. It's been a very powerful time for us to get to know each other and see the hope in our stories. We're taking the apprentices on a retreat this month so that we can all share our autobiographies with each other. Please pray this time brings us closer together and helps them to know Jesus more fully.

• Our Issachar graduation is coming up soon! This is when we do a ceremony for our 2nd year apprentices to celebrate their hard work these past two years and send them off into the city!

"The vigorous, continual planting of new congregations is the single most crucial strategy for 1) the numerical growth of the Body of Christ in any city, and 2) the continual corporate renewal and revival of the existing churches in a city. Nothing else--not crusades, outreach programs, para-church ministries, growing mega-churches, congregational consulting, nor church renewal processes--will have the consistent impact of dynamic, extensive church planting." -Tim Keller

I didn’t start attending church regularly until college. I loved that church. In fact, not only did I love it, but I believed in it. I believed in its power to make a difference in the world through unity, preaching the word and loving the community. I also loved my pastor. I loved how he loved people well and understood the power of real grace. Oh, and he was serious about the art of preaching. I was convinced that planting a church was the best way to change the world. So convinced that on my first date with Erika I told her that my life dream was to plant a multiethnic church in Denver. 

Then I graduated from college and left the church I loved and started listening to the voices that said church was boring and outdated. On top of that, we had a bad experience with a church. After that I wasn't so sure about church anymore. I went from dreaming about planting a church to wondering if I could ever get off the couch Sunday morning to attend one again. For months Sunday morning football helped me grieve my breakup. I was in seminary studying to be a pastor while hating church. It went on like this until one day we decided to give church another chance, or at least date a few. Somehow we ended up in a service at Wellspring––a small, charismatic, Anglican church in Englewood with pastors who wear robes and dance during services. It was the last place I expected to fall in love with church again, but I did.

You know how your parents would tell you something a million times, but you didn't actually hear it until a friend or stranger said it that one-millionth-and-one-time? That's how I feel right now. A few of the men who discipled me over the years, my spiritual parents if you will, used to tell me that discipleship is the most important part of ministry. Brad Miller met with me weekly in college when I was a college pastor and whenever I got excited about the latest outreach strategy complete with laser shows and food giveaways, he would smirk and come back to the question of who I was discipling. I was discipling a few guys but to me that was what I did when I wasn't doing real ministry, like speaking and doing service projects. Eddie Broussard, one of the busiest men I know as the Vice President of the U.S. Navigators, has dedicated his life to discipling young people, including me. I've seen him drive hours just to invest in a few people. I used to wonder if he had better stuff to do with his time, like strategy meetings or presentations to give––and he certainly made time for that stuff––but I always got the sense that the most important part of his day was spending quality time with a person. 

I thought I could find a better way to do ministry––one that would out-think this whole outdated discipleship model. And for the last two years I tried doing ministry without making discipleship my focus. Let me tell you, it's a waste of time. You'll do exciting things and even good things, but you won't do transformational ministry without discipleship. 

Asher Lev grows up as a Jewish boy “in a cloistered Hassidic community in postwar Brooklyn, a world suffused by ritual and revolving around a charismatic Rebbe.” Asher possesses a special gift to feel with his eyes and paint his world in profound ways. “In time, his gift threatens to estrange him” from the only world he knows and the parents he cherishes. 

I used to imagine landing on the moon one day. This was back in the third grade when I wanted to be a famous astronaut.

It was the Tuesday night after we returned from a big conference full of big name city- workers with big dreams. Our staff had spent a whole week with the apprentices in Indianapolis for the annual Christian Community Development conference and they were filled with excitement and energy to implement new ideas in the city. But, as we probed them more, we realized that they would never be able to change the school system, eradicate poverty, or preach the good news without dealing with a brokenness in their heart that subtly told them that they were incapable. Their dreams were willing but their hearts were weak; we had work to do.

Here are some of my reflections from a talk that Brother Cornel West gave to Southwestern College back in 2006. The talk is still relevant as ever, and if you have not heard it, I encouarge you to listen!