Speaker of the House Paul Ryan (R-Wisc.) takes the stage tonight at the Republican National Convention in Cleveland. But, Ryan says, his highly anticipated speech won’t be the highlight of his week.
For Ryan, that happened on Monday at Beyond These Walls Church in Elyria, Ohio, 30 miles west of Cleveland.
Beyond These Walls Church, which is featured in the first and second seasons of “Comeback” at Opportunity Lives, is on the front lines of the war against poverty and addiction in America. The Elyria-Cleveland area has one of the highest concentrations of poverty in the country, and Cleveland itself is the nation’s second-poorest big city. The area also has been ravaged by drug addiction, particularly heroin.
At a time when politicians on both sides are rightly criticized for bypassing poor areas during big events in the pursuit of voters and donors (as John Dickerson notes here), Ryan’s decision to spend two hours in Elyria during convention week is noteworthy.
Ryan, like virtually all conservatives, is acutely aware of the Left’s caricature of Republicans as uncaring racists. One reader at the Washington Post, who didn’t have the context of Ryan’s visit to Elyria, cynically and incorrectly assumed he was visiting a “suburban mega-church” to peddle his privatization schemes to friendly audiences far removed truly poor urban centers.
The facts of Ryan’s visit — and his ongoing tour of poor parts of America — couldn’t be further from that lame stereotype.
This was the scene:
Upon arriving at the church I was ordered by a Ryan aide to lose my tie.
“This is cas’ [slang for casual],” the aide said.
A welcoming and conscientious church staff member offered to store my blue convention-and-TV-ready tie in his office. I politely declined, rolled up my tie, put in my suit pocket and smiled.
Inside, I hardly encountered the trappings of a mega-church. There was no state-of-the art gym, no rock band with excessive instrumentality and concert lighting and no upper-middle class white people sporting self-consciously edgy tattoos. Yes, there is authenticity at mega-churches. But there is nothing contrived about Beyond These Walls in Elyria. For pastor Paul Grodell and his staff, tattoos and Harley Davidson attire aren’t fashion statements. They’re fashion.
The sanctuary was simple and inviting, but more industrial than corporate. There was no air conditioning, just fans blowing in the back to contain the thin film of sweat forming on a handful of staff and over-dressed convention goers.
Ryan arrived without fanfare and made no grand entrance. He took his seat at two folded tables set up as an inverted “v” panel and prepared to listen to extraordinary personal stories of victory and grief.
Melissa, a teacher, spoke about losing 32 students, 16 of them to drug overdoses.
“It’s my kids who are dying on the streets,” she said. “What this church is doing is saving people’s lives.”
She described how Pastor Paul intervened to get one student off of heroin who didn’t realize she was three months pregnant at the time.
“Paul intervened and saved her life and her baby’s life,” Melissa said.
Another woman, Rachel, who was born to a 16-year-old mom, described her life of overcoming sexual abuse and drug addiction. After spending time in and out of juvenile detention centers, she was able to get her life together. She is now a mom of twins and has held executive-level support positions.
Rachel urged Ryan to think critically and compassionately about criminal justice reform.
“I was treated like a criminal,” she said. “But the girls in there were broken. They weren’t hardened criminals.”
The next woman to share, Johnnie, had just lost her son, Wiley, to a heroin overdose 24 days earlier. She was raw with grief.
Johnnie had nearly lost her son on previous occasions and did everything she could to free him from addiction. She said of the 30 friends in Wiley’s circle, only six were left.
“If we can be there when they leave the ER, you can change lives,” she said.
Finally, Kaelyn, who was also born to a mother addicted to drugs, spoke powerfully — and in public for the first time — about overcoming her addiction to heroin.
Bob Woodson, the head of the Center for Neighborhood Enterprise, which links effective poverty-fighters like Groddel to others around the country, then introduced Ryan. “As God has elevated him he has not abandoned us,” Woodson said.
Ryan said, “I want to thank you ladies for the gift you’ve given us. This teaches us. This shows us. Thank you for this beautiful gift of redemption you’ve shown us.
“What we’re trying to do is learn from you so we can tell your story and tell these stories across America so more of this happens,” he added.
Ryan concluded: “This is the most important meeting I’m going to have all week.”
Ryan’s convention speech, no doubt, will be covered more widely than his visit to Elyria. But he’s right that what’s happening at Beyond These Walls Church is more important than anything that will happen at the convention.
Grodell is modeling what works against the fight against the poverty and the despair and hopelessness that has upended lives and political parties in our country. If America is looking for hope and an alternative, this is it.
Faith isn’t an element of their work, Grodell says; it’s the essential ingredient.
“It’s not government that changes people. It’s not programs. It’s the Lord God Almighty,” Grodell said.
But for Grodell, this isn’t mere sermonizing. His life, and the lives his team, are awesome and inspiring stories of what Jesus said in the scriptures, “My power made perfect in weakness.”
Grodell believes God chooses to transmit His love and grace through broken and imperfect people. It’s a love that doesn’t give up but always perseveres. It doesn’t judge. It doesn’t treat people like projects but fellow pilgrims on a journey toward redemption.
After Ryan and his team left, Woodson, Grodell and about 30 members and friends of the church showed up at a local Italian restaurant for comfort food. A few people expressed appreciation for how low-key and honest the event was, but politics wasn’t front and center. The life of the church wasn’t a presentation for Ryan but the foundation of something very real that was a gift and encouragement to him.
Matt and Angie Buchwald shared about their Tuesday class that ministers to people affected by addiction. Matt said how valuable it is for an older parent of an addict to sit next to someone younger who is the midst of, or overcoming, an addiction. It tells people they aren’t alone, he said.
The star of the lunch, though, was a beautiful 18 month-old girl who was making her way around the table. At one point Greg Bradford (a star of “Comeback” in season one) picked her up and quipped, “It takes a village!”
When I couldn’t figure out who her parents were — because everyone was parenting her — I knew why the community worked. Through her eyes (I later learned Matt and Angie adopted her from a mom who was in prison for drugs) she was witnessing heaven, or what Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., might have called the “Beloved Community.”
As I headed to a divided convention downtown, I kept my tie in my pocket as a reminder of the invisible convention of humble heroes in Elyria and around America that never adjourns.
Originally published at opportunitylives.com
