Guarding the Heritage and Culture of Teen Challenge Lessons of The Cross & The Switchblade

compiled by Karissa McCarter

We started this series in the past four e-newsletters.  See connections.teenchallengeusa.com for past articles. Today we look at the forth of five lessons learned from The Cross & The Switchblade that we can apply to our lives and ministries.

Paragraphs are quotes from the book with summarization points following.

Lesson 4: Faith in Finances

Twenty minutes later we were knocking on the door of a suite in the Savoy. It was now five thirty in the afternoon. A gentleman came to the door tying a large bow tie. He was obviously dressing for dinner. “Mr. Stone?” The man nodded. “Excuse us; we have a note for you from Chase Walker.”

Mr. Stone stood in the doorway and read the note, then asked us in. He seems as puzzled as we were about the situation. He said that he was due downstairs in a few moments, but that if we wanted to talk while he finished dressing, he’d be glad to listen. Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Stone was ready to leave and I had barely launched into a description of Teen-Age Evangelism.

“I have to go now,” said Mr. Stone, gently. “But if Chase Walker recommends you, that’s good enough for me. I like the sound of your work. Send me your bills. I’ll pay them up to ten thousand.” Harald and I looked at each other, stunned. “And not if you’ll excuse me please, Mr. Stone edged toward the door. “Why don’t you finish that story on tape and send it to me? I’ll pay you a visit next time I’m in New York… we’ll work out details…” and he was gone.

The $10,000 went to pay our debt. And it also went to pay for the second thirteen weeks, and for a film, Vulture on My Veins, about dope addiction among teenagers in New York. But this money purchased more than just film and television time. It bought us a new respect for this ministry. It was becoming increasingly clear to us that the hand of the Lord was in our work. As long as we really let Him lead, miracles all along the path were going to be ours to enjoy. -p. 126-127 (end of Ch. 13)

As David Wilkerson just focused on doing what the Lord led Him to do, the Lord would orchestrate miraculous provision. “Dave, this dream of yours has one flaw: it requires money.” This was accurate, of course. We never seemed to have more than a hundred dollars in our account at any one time. It took a good hard scolding from Gwen to shake me free from the fear of launching forth just because we had no money.

Gwen came to New York as soon as the school year was over in Pittsburgh. I found a little apartment near the office in Staten Island. “It’s not exactly the Conrad Hilton,” I said to Gwen on the long-distance line, “but at least we’ll be together. Get packed- I’m coming to get you.” “Darling,” said Gwen, “I don’t care if we live in the street, just as long as we live there together.” So Gwen came east.

We crowded all our furniture into four rooms again, but we were extremely happy. Gwen followed very closely all the moves of the new ministry. She was particularly interested in my dream of a working family with a Center of its own. “David,” she said one night, just after I had complained again about lack of funds, “you ought to be ashamed. You’re going at this backwards. You’re trying to raise your money first, and then buy your home. If you’re doing this in faith, you should commit yourself to your Center first, David, then raise your money for it.” At first it just sounded like a woman’s thinking. But the more I dwelled on the thought, the more it reminded me of Biblical stories. -p.130 (3rd page of Ch. 14)

This just might be the way it always works at Teen Challenge, press forward in how the Lord is leading – don’t wait until you’ve done all your fundraising. Finding enough money to run the Center was a matter of even greater difficulty. As the time grew closer for our young workers to go back to school, we made a reckoning of what it had cost us to run the Center full swing for the summer.

We were astonished at how much cash was involved. There were monthly mortgage payments, electric bills and food bills, printing bills and transportation bills. There were clothing bills for our street boys, whose clothes we often had to throw away; there were repair bills and plumbing bills and taxes. There were salaries: even the small wages we were paying our workers came to two hundred dollars. The total of all our expenses regularly ran to more than a thousand dollars each week. And at no time did we have more than just a few hundred dollars in the bank. Usually our balance was less than a hundred dollars. Just as fast as the money came in, we found a pressing need for it.

Often I’ve yearned for a financial situation that would allow us to breathe a little more easily. But just as often, I come back to the conviction that the Lord wants us to live this way. It is one of the most demanding requirements on our faith to depend totally on God for the need of His work. Just as soon as we have a balance in the bank, we’ll stop depending on Him in the day-by-day, hour-by-hour way that we now do, not only for our spiritual needs, but for our physical needs as well.

Where does this thousand dollars a week come from? A lot of it is raised by the teenagers themselves. All across the country young boys and girls have taken on the challenge of this work. They help support it. They babysit, mow lawns, and wash cars. Hundred and hundreds of them have pledged fifty cents a week to help other teenagers like themselves. This money comes in pennies at a time and each penny is blessed and appreciated. Then there are individual churches across the country who have taken us as a missionary concern.

Just the other day we had a lady visiting us from Florida. She had read about Teen Challenge Center, but the full impact of the need in this city did not strike her until we walked with her around one block and explained what she was seeing with her own eyes. Here was an alcoholic young girl; there a male prostitute, age fifteen; here was a boy who could not break his addiction to heroin, there a boy who was simply lonesome. When she got back to her church she stood before the congregation and told what she had seen.

Here I live in comfort, while those kids are out there starving for spiritual help. I, for one, am going to make the Center my personal concern.I hope you will join me. They need every cent they can raise.” All of these sources, however, could never meet the extraordinary requirements of the center, such as the original financing of the building that had to be taken on as a crisis, handled as a crisis, and turned over to God. -p. 174-175 (end of Ch. 18)

Don’t be discouraged if you don’t get to that place where you have a pipeline with a continuous supply of over-abundant funds – look back and you’ll probably see that you don’t know how, but bills got paid…keep the faith.

“They’ve agreed to wait until September tenth, David,” Julius said. “But if the money isn’t in their hands by that time they will start foreclosure proceedings. Do you have any ideas? “I’m going to pray about it.” I said. Julius was accustomed to the praying ways of the Center, but at that moment I think he wished for a Director who was a little more practical. That afternoon I did a rather brash thing. I called all the young people together, gang members, drug addicts, college boys and girls, staff members, and told them that the Center was safe. There was a great rejoicing.

“I think we ought to go into the chapel and thank God,” I said. So we did. We went in, closed the doors, and praised the Lord for having saved this home for His use. Finally someone looked up and asked: “Say, David, where’d the money come from?” “Oh, it hasn’t come in yet.” Twenty-five blank expressions. Twenty-five frozen smiles. “It hasn’t come in yet,” I went on. “But before September tenth, the money will be in our hands, I’m sure. By that date, I’ll have a check for $15,000 to show you. I just thought we ought to thank God ahead of time..” And with that I walked out.

September first came. September second, third, fourth. I spent a great deal of time on the telephone, seeing if I could find the solution to our problem. Every sign pointed to His wanting us to continue our work… Along the telephone calls was one to Clem Stone’s office in Chicago. Harald Bredesen placed it, admitting openly that he was a little embarrasses. Clem had already been more than generous with the Center. We tried to keep him in close touch with the progress of our work at all times, not just when we needed money; but I suspect that when Clem heard a call was coming from Teen Challenge Center his natural instinct was to place a quick, protecting hand over his wallet.

It was Clem’s son whom Harald reached on the telephone, September eighth. They had a long talk. Harald told about the work that had been accomplished already, and he thanked the Stones for their part in that. Then, with a shrug, he finally got to the point. “We’ve got to have $15,000 by day after tomorrow,” he said, and he explained why. “I have no idea what your position is at this moment. And I’m certainly not going to ask for a decision while you’re on the telephone. But talk this over with your father. Tell him thanks for what he’s already done to help. And then let’s just see what happens.”

September the tenth arrived. The morning mail came. We opened it eagerly. There were envelopes from children sending their pennies. “Thank you, Lord,” I said. “We couldn’t do without these pennies.” And that was all. The morning chapel service began. Everyone was gathered, everyone prayed and sang. Here and there I heard our young people still thanking God for sending us the check for $15,000.

In the middle of service, I was called to the door. It was a special delivery. I looked at the postmark: Chicago, Illinois. I opened the envelope, and inside was a certified check for exactly $15,000. I couldn’t talk when I took that piece of paper into the chapel. I stood before the fireplace with its sheaf of harvested wheat in bas-relief on the mantel. I couldn’t talk, so I just held up my hand for silence, and when the room was quiet, Paul DiLena handed the check to the young boy nearest me. “Pass that around, will you please?” Paul said, almost inaudibly.

The canceled check, which Clem Stone now has in his files in Chicago, tells a mute story of the wonderful leading of God among young people in New York City. It is properly endorsed, properly deposited. But it is more than that. If you look closely at that check, you will see that it is stained:  it is really quite grubby from having passed through the hands of two dozen youngsters who have learned what it is to believe. And perhaps there are a few tear stains on it, too. Tears of gratitude to a God who moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. -p. 212-214 (end of Ch. 23)

Don’t be discouraged if you don’t get to that place where you have a pipeline with a continuous supply of over-abundant funds – look back and you’ll probably see that you don’t know how, but bills got paid…keep the faith.

Be grateful in all things, keep the faith in the impossible things!