Archive for April, 2010

God has been doing some amazing things in the past few weeks! To save myself the trouble of spelling it all out here, I’ve included the timeline that you have a link to below. Click on it for an outline of what I and a group of friends and fellow ministers been up to. Unfortunately, this bare bones outline (started after the fact, even) is all we’ve got so far when it comes to telling about what’s been happening, but it’s better than nothing. What you really need to do, though, is sit down with Josh Kirby and have him narrate it. He’s an amazing storyteller!

Timeline

Now that you’ve had a chance to get the basic idea of what we’ve been up to, here’s a chance to orient yourself a bit to the facilities we’re currently looking at and praying about. Here are some photos that I’ve taken around St. Ann’s. And click on the link or the photo below of St. Ann’s (and the illustrious Kent Smith) to watch the ten-minute “Sights and Sounds” video that I put together for Dr. Johnson’s Contexts of Ministry class.

Of course, as you can tell, this endeavor is still in its beginning stages. God has given us a dream, a dream which we believe is God’s dream for this group, for this building, and especially for this community. It’s a dream of restoration of people and things to their intended beauty and function. It’s a dream of holy and purposeful covenant community. It’s a dream of community development, not just in economic resources but in relationships. It’s a dream of reminding people that they are allowed to dream. It’s a dream of reconciliation, a dream of wholeness and unity, a dream of harmony, peace, and joy. It’s a big dream. But that’s why it’s important to us to remember that it’s God’s dream, not our own. And God’s definitely been the one in charge of leading us this far. We take no credit for that ourselves. In fact, we know that, more often than not, we’re struggling just to stay caught up and not get in the way of the awe-inspiring things that God is doing.

Again, it’s difficult for me to take something of such great beauty and attempt to analyze it, especially when it’s something that is so obviously not of my own doing. Still, even if I can’t take much of the credit myself, this whole adventure does demonstrate developing maturity in my identity as a minister. In fact, because it incorporates so many different aspects of my life, it seems to demonstrate some growth towards a great number of the expected outcomes of the MDiv program. Here I’ll talk just a bit about Outcomes 3ace, 4acd, 6abcfg, 8abcde, 9abcd, and 10abc.

One of the most immediate aspects of the dream for St. Ann’s is that of a covenantal monastic community of sorts. Our group hopes to renovate the two-story section of St. Ann’s first and live there under the rule of life that we are even now beginning to formulate. We are preparing ourselves through prayer, through individual and communal discernment, through relationship building, and in various other ways for the challenges and blessings that will come with living together in such an intense community. These kinds of practices which we’re involved in as a group now (and plan to continue to be involved in) are a demonstration of the Christian spiritual disciplines (8abcde), a challenge in developing Christian character (9abcd), and mutual collaboration to lead our group forward in discerning and following God’s call (6abcfg). The experience thus far has also been one which has confirmed and intensified my own clarity in my personal ministerial identity, allowing me to more fully explore my talents and desires in ministry and see  how they line up with the mission which God has set before our group (10abc).

At the same time, we are not wanting this vision to be limited to just our group. We are planning to form strong, meaningful relationships with our neighbors from the College Heights community. One of our greatest desires is to live out the gospel among our newfound friends in such a way that they will be attracted to our God. We are also greatly looking forward to the ways in which we will encounter God already at work among the people we meet, for God is surely there among them in powerful ways already! This vision that God has planted within us and that God is drawing us to is one in which the Christian faith and theology are in dialogue with this local cultural context, with each making the others stronger and more purposeful in the kingdom of God (3ace, 4acd).

I have been continually amazed over these past few weeks by what God has been doing. It is a blessing to be a part of this process and to humbly follow and take part in the process as God is at work to reach the world with the good news of redemption and restoration. Redemption and restoration. Of buildings. Of neighborhoods. Of people. Of relationships. Of community. Of families, both physical and spiritual. Of all people and all things towards God. All to the praise of God’s glorious grace!

This is a reflection I wrote  after listening to a podcast episode for Dr. Johnson’s Contexts of Ministry class. The podcast (from a series called “Dispatches from the Trails End”) focused on Don, a man whom the Buffalo Gap church has been able to reach out to and minister to (as well as being ministered to by him). Though I have not changed anything, the original post can be found here: http://blogs.acu.edu/1020_BIBM64001/2010/02/04/beall-dispatches-from-the-trails-end/

I’m not sure exactly of all the reasons I wanted to include this reflection in my portfolio. In many ways, it doesn’t do much to exhibit specific outcomes which are expected in the GST. I could make an argument that it fits outcome 7 (especially 7ad), as it might be considered an indication of my intuitive ability to see into people and read them, therefore allowing me to exercise compassionate soul care. And I’m tagging it as an indicator of outcome 11d because I feel that it does demonstrate my facility with words, even though I’m sure outcome 11 is generally meant to apply to critical, formal arguments rather than this more subjective, artistic creation.

As a bit of an aside, I think it would be amazing to emphasize the beauty and necessity of creative and artistic expression in some of these expected outcomes. Music, drawing, creative writing, acting, photography and so many other creative acts are poignant expressions of who our God—THE CREATOR—is. I believe that we shortchange not only ourselves but also our God when we emphasize our strictly “intellectual” and “ministerial” abilities while neglecting our creative ones as an indicator of God at work in and through us. But back to the point…

Like I said, I’m not sure of any official reasons I should include this in my portfolio. I can’t (or don’t want to!) analyze, evaluate, synthesize, and make application from this piece of my artistic expression, yet I think it says important things about me and my identity as a minister of the gospel of Christ. So I leave it to those of you who read it to infer what you will…

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I know it’s a small thing in the scope of the entire set of podcasts. Just a few words, painting a mental picture. But those few words and that mental image are what really remain with me, even days after listening to the stories of the Buffalo Gap Church of Christ and their friend Don.

I can just see him. Don, leaning against his gate, feet planted firmly in place, willing to chat for a few minutes with these strangers who have come to see him, but unwilling to open the entirety of his life to them. Suspicious of their motives and aims, Don keeps his distance, clearly marking with his gate the boundary between their world and his. This far you may come, and no further, he says with his stance. Visit after visit, week after week, month after month. This far and no further.

Several months pass. The small talk over the top of the gate continues. But one day things are different. Things change. One day, Don, seeing his now-familiar visitors approaching, reaches down, unlatches the gate, and swings it wide open. This far you may come, and further. I am overcome by the magnitude of this particular moment, this simple yet immensely significant invitation. It is an invitation to a chair, to coffee, to conversation, to companionship. This far, and further.

Why does this unpretentious sequence of events catch my eye, catch my heart? Why are Don’s actions, seemingly self-explanatory, so important to me? It’s just a gate, right? No big deal, right? Somehow I don’t think so.

“I know a man who lives in a bus.” A man who lives in a bus? A bus? He lives in a bus?

I can only imagine this as the beginning of the series of questions that follow when someone learns of this “man who lives in a bus.” I can also imagine that Don can imagine this series of questions. To the general world around him, Don must know, he is “the man who lives in a bus.” He is an oddity at best, a cause for bewilderment or even scorn at worst. For what kind of person lives in a bus, anyway?!

Somehow along the way, in the telling of the story, in the relating of the facts of Don’s anomalous existence, the identity of this man, this person who is the created image of the living God, has been reduced to that of the man who lives in a bus. And the emphasis is not even so much on the fact that he’s a man or that he lives. It’s the bus we’re concerned about.

It’s no wonder that Don eyed his visitors with suspicion. Why were they there? Who was he to them? Was he merely the freak show of the quiet little town of Buffalo Gap, his life a spectacle to be gawked at? I wouldn’t have opened my gate either. No one needs that kind of attention. There’s a line that’s got to be drawn somewhere. This far and no further.

But something was different about these guests. They came back. And not only that. They came back and even seemed to enjoy the conversation, seemed to want to get to know him. They came back, and instead of staring at the novelty of his makeshift home, they looked at him, into his eyes, into his soul. Again and again. Visit after visit, week after week, month after month. Don’s wall of “this far and no further” began to crumble, until one day it was no longer insurmountable. The gate swung open wide. This far, and further.

This far, and further. I truly believe that that is the heart’s cry of humanity. We long to be seen, to be known, to be loved. But caught in the midst of a world of pain, derision, selfishness, hatred, and apathy, we feel we are forced to keep the gate closed, leaning against it firmly to protect ourselves from the unwelcome outsiders who come to gape at our failures, our idiosyncrasies, our vulnerability.

But what happens when someone actually sees me? When it’s not the outward appearances and circumstances which are the focus, but rather it’s the reality of who I am as a human being, as a reflection and representation of God?

What happens when I actually see him, see her? When the real stories are told, the real identities found? When each person is viewed not with the eyes of the world, but with the eyes of the Creator? When he’s not just a good-for-nothing beggar on the street but a man who has no alternatives if his wife and three kids are to eat that night? When she’s not the haughty high school slut but a lonely and scared teenage girl whose only experience of acceptance comes at a great price? When he’s not my enemy but my brother? When she’s not a “ministry opportunity” but my sister?

What happens when someone looks not at the bus in the background but at the pain and longing for companionship that are present deep within his eyes, no matter practiced he might be at concealing them in order to safeguard himself, and no matter how heavily he might lean against that gate?

When this kind of vision is practiced—visit after visit, week after week, month after month—one tiny bit at a time, the defenses are let down. The gate of the heart opens, and the invitation is extended. This far, and further.

May we go, and may we see.

This paper, an assignment for Chris Flanders’ Foundations of Missiology class, is a reflection on the issues of leadership and power in relation to missions. Beginning with a more theoretical discussion of the topic, it proceeds into a personal reflection on how my thoughts intersect my life at the moment. I believe that this paper and what it represents are a good indication of progress towards outcomes 3a, 4a, 6bc, 8ab, and 10abc.

A discussion of leadership and power is important for all of us as Christians and ministers of the gospel. While this paper is far from a complete treatment, it can be seen as a beginning foray into those issues. How does the identity of a minister relate to the mission of God and the specific context in which God has placed him or her? How is God at work? What is the relationship between the gospel, the church’s mission, and power? How does (or how should) our use of power influence the message of the gospel? And what would a revised understanding of power in leadership mean for the practices of discipleship and evangelism? Seeking initial answers to those questions, or at least seeking the further challenges brought about by those questions, this paper is an attempt to get at the indicators of outcomes 3a, 6bc, 8ab.

And while there was not nearly enough room in a 4-5 page assignment to explore all of those questions fully, I believe that this paper is good preparation for continued investigation and reflection in the years to come. As I look at the issues of power and leadership, I begin to contemplate and address how they intersect my own life, character, dreams, and plans. Therefore, this paper is also an exploration of my own ministerial identity and theological commitments, as well as an attempt to live in a way that conforms to that identity and those commitments (4a, 10).

Here is the text of the paper:

If power is “the ability to produce intended effects in the world,” as Shuster is quoted as describing it (Lingenfelter 107), then we must acknowledge that all humans have power in one form or another, whether power over their own body, power over their surroundings, or power in relationship (as all relationships entail some measure of power). Each of us undeniably has the ability to produce some intended effect. The concern, then, is not whether or not we actually have power as humans. The concern is how (or if) we can appropriately use power as Christians. This is a difficult issue for all of us to attend to, but—full of theological significance as it is—it is an especially pertinent and ever-present question in the life of the missionary and must be discerned carefully so that we as ministers might be faithful to the call of God on our lives.

Missionaries are, according to the prevailing understanding of their work, often placed in relationships of leadership and power-wielding. This dominant view of mission work emphasizes the missionary as a central figure who, because of the significance of her position, appropriately holds certain forms of power in her leadership. She is typically looked upon as the one bringing the gospel of Christ to those who are in need of it. This perception of missions places the missionary in a privileged position. She has a commodity which someone else lacks—knowledge of the gospel; with that commodity in her possession, she holds power (incomplete as it may be) over their fate.

With this understanding of the missionary vocation in place, leadership will certainly entail a purposeful use of power as well. It will be argued that power is not inherently bad; one must only be sure to handle it wisely and in a Christlike manner. Rather than being used with bad motives, to take advantage of others, hoarded, or abused, it should be employed in the humble, self-emptying, others-serving way of Jesus. Power in leadership should be used to disciple and enable other individuals, to help and defend those who are helpless and defenseless, and it should always be exerted humbly, as we seek direction and correction from God and from those around us. Leaders may use power to achieve their aims, to bring about their intended effects for their world, but it should always be benevolent power.

I would argue, however, that we could go one step further in bettering our understanding of the use of power in Christian leadership. While the above kind of charitable implementation of power in leadership is adequate enough for the anthropocentric definition of the missionary role that it is based upon, it clashes somewhat with a more theocentric view of missions. Redefining missions by placing God—not the missionary—back at the center of power and leadership has momentous implications for how both power and leadership are interpreted and implemented by the missionary.

What would it look like to recognize God as the undisputed center of our understanding of mission work (and ministry of any sort)? It would require clearing the way for God to act by removing the missionary from that preeminent position. Humbly stepping aside and giving up his position as the supposed driving force behind the vision and the work, the missionary must confess God as the only source of vision and of power. Admitting that he is merely a disciple himself, a leader only in that he is a follower of the true leader (1 Cor 1:11), any power he does have will be understood as a gift from God, requiring responsibility back to God for how he uses it. So instead of working in his own power to bring about his own desires, he will be able to relinquish the power and control he grasps for (even if unconsciously). The missionary will surrender himself to God’s power, allowing God to produce the effects God intends in and for the world; he is merely along for the ride, acting faithfully to the call and the opportunities God places in front of him.

If mission work is understood this way, with God as both the source of power and the leadership behind the spread of the gospel, the question remains for us as Christians and as missionaries: should we, as followers of Christ, seek or employ any power of our own in our leadership? Seeking power is out of the question, in my mind. For if God himself did not seek power but instead gave it up, becoming like a slave for our sake (Phil 2), what justification do we have to seek power? Again, we cannot deny that we each already have and use some form of power. That is inherent in our relational existence as human beings. But what should our response to that power be? At the very least, I believe that it should reflect the benevolent power described earlier, with each of us acting as a power-giving leader, to use the terms of Lingenfelter. Even better, our response should reflect our acknowledgement of God as the continual source of power for the extension of the good news to the world. We should be power-reinstating servants, placing power back in the hands of our God, where it truly belongs and serving only as God calls us. Then we as missionaries will be able to lay down the immense burdens we have taken on ourselves, trusting in God to accomplish God’s purposes in God’s time and in God’s way.

So how does this all connect with my life? Why my interest in this redefinition of mission work and my insistence on God as the only source of power and leadership? Honestly, it comes from the experience of being completely humbled by what God has been doing in my life recently. I have been blessed to witness God at work in mighty ways to bring about ministry opportunities I never would have imagined. And throughout the process, it has been very clear that it is God in control, not me or anyone else. The experience has called into question some of the assumptions I had previously lived by and has necessitated a restructuring of how I think.

The story begins about one month ago, when it became clear that a group of seven people were being led by God into closer relationship with one another for the purpose of glorifying God in ministry. As we started to dream together about the possibility of living in covenant community and ministering to a neglected neighborhood here in Abilene, God’s hand was clearly at work to guide us. Very quickly, our dream—already seemingly large enough to us—was taken out of our own inadequate hands, and God began to lead us on an adventure in which we had to hustle merely to stay caught up! Placing person after person and opportunity after opportunity in front of us in perfect sequence, usually before we even knew what their significance would be, God has led us to a specific people and neighborhood in Abilene and even to a particular place within that neighborhood, the abandoned St. Ann’s Hospital. The stories of God obviously at work are too numerous to recount here, but suffice it to say that our group has been reminded over and over again that we are not in control of this process, that God is the power leading us.

The humility that has been unavoidably evoked by our experience thus far has had numerous implications. First of all, it has been a good reminder to us as individuals and as a group of our relationship to and position before God. We are continually prompted to confess that God is the only true source of power, that we are nothing but tools in God’s hands, and often inept ones at that. Secondly, given the way that God has been leading us in very definite ways very quickly, all of us are hesitant to arrogantly and foolishly run ahead of God by claiming any vision or power for ourselves. We wait on God. We place our lives within God’s hands, surrendering ourselves to God’s power and plan. And God does not disappoint. We are invariably given what we need when we need it.

Additionally, the humble position in which God has placed us has caused us to reconsider our own roles as “leaders” within God’s vision for our group and our ministry. This is perhaps the result most directly related to mission work and ministry in general. Since we are not able to claim this vision and power as our own (for it is obviously beyond us!), we are compelled to look for God at work everywhere and in everyone. Again, we are leaders only in that we are following God, and even that is through no merit of our own. The title and practice of “leadership” are transformed in a revolutionary way, with any power and privilege attributed to God alone. Seeking no power for ourselves, we also put measures in place to ensure that we are kept accountable to the standard of benevolent power and power-giving leadership as we do use the power that we inherently have. More than this, though, we seek to be power-reinstating servants, relinquishing power back into the hands of God and allowing God to lead. And from that position of submission, we are then able to be power-recognizing ministers, seeing the power of God in each person and each circumstance that we encounter. With all this in mind, we know that the dream for St. Ann’s and the surrounding community is not our dream. It is God’s dream. We merely follow behind God as we are directed, and we welcome those whom God brings alongside us as fellow power-giving, power-reinstating, power-recognizing servant “leaders.”