Archive for ‘04 Contextual Practice’

Though they’re easily accessible in the sidebar to the right, I’d like to call attention here to certain required artifacts for my senior review. Namely, I’m referring to the Wittenberg, 1934 case brief, my theology of ministry paper, and my revised ministerial identity paper.

I believe the Wittenberg case brief exhibits outcomes 2abd, 3bce, 4abcd, 5abe, 7abcd, 8cf and 9a. The theology of ministry paper mainly exhibits outcomes 4abc, 6abcef, 8abd, and 10abc. And the reflection on ministerial exhibits outcomes 8abcdef and 10abc. Further details on these assignments are found on the papers’ respective pages.

And in case you’re as much in need of a (rueful) laugh as I am…

In the fall of 2012, I enrolled in Dr. Sensing’s Homiletics class. Believe it or not, this was somewhat of a daring move for me to make. As a woman from the Churches of Christ tradition, I had heard for most of my life that I was not allowed to preach, not allowed to have a voice in the church. Though I no longer believed in or lived my life by that fallacious theological conclusion, the specter of it still haunted me.

You see, just a year before, when a funeral director saw me holding a Bible and asked if I’d be the one performing the service that day, my own family members had laughed out loud—right in front of me—at the preposterous idea that I, a woman, might be the preacher. And just a year before that, when I shared portions of my own narrative of my calling to ministry in a very public way, some responded with encouraging words, but others sharpened their linguistic barbs and aimed them directly at me and my fellow women ministers. But more than that, for my entire life I’d been silenced, simply because of my gender. And until I was in my mid-twenties (around the time I entered the GST) I’d not seen a woman preach or pray or lead a church, at least not while in the company of men. Not a single one.

These experiences haunted me. And my resulting inexperience at the homiletical task threatened me. I would be the only one in the class who’d never preached a sermon before. The only one who didn’t know what she was doing. The only one for whom all of this was intimidating—and not just because of its newness but because of the theological baggage that accompanied it. How in the world would I find my voice? And how in the world would I measure up? Besides that, how would I deal with the potential repercussions from my family if they found out what I was doing? Should I avoid the topic or come right out and talk about it? Needless to say, the class stirred up thoughts and feelings that most courses don’t.

Yet, intimidated as I was, I resolutely gave the class my all. I felt I owed it to myself, and not only to me but also to all women who’d been silenced in the church and not given this opportunity. And over the course of that semester I learned, at least in part, to preach. I was proud to do as well as I did in the class, and I’d like to share with you here some artifacts indicating my success. Below you’ll find a set of seven sermon sketches as well as manuscripts for the two sermons I preached in class. (I’d hoped to also include some audio files of me preaching the sermons, but the stomach bug, cold, and sinus infection I’ve had in two weeks leading up to my senior review have prevented that from happening. Alas.)

For many reasons, then, my participation in the homiletics course indicates greater competency in a wide range of MDiv outcomes. I was able to engage in spite of my own personal fears and limitations, showing a number of the qualities expected of MDiv graduates (outcomes 8abcd and 9abcd). And the content of the sermon sketches and the sermons themselves evidence my knowledge of the Christians scriptures (outcome 1abcd), my abilities to practice theology in contemporary contexts and lead the church as a minister (outcomes 4abcd and 6bcd), and my competency at written and especially oral communication (outcome 11abcd). Now, for your reading enjoyment:

Sermon Sketches

Christ in Us, the Sufficient One

Lament: Our Act of Faith

To be sure, there’s still room for improvement in my preaching, and I’ve received some good feedback from Dr. Sensing and my classmates to help with that. You know, I still don’t foresee myself becoming a highly skilled full-time preacher anytime soon (or ever, really, given my church background and my current ecclesiology). But I know now that I at least can preach. This experience has shown me that I am capable.

This experience has helped me jump the biggest hurdle of all: finding my own voice. And I’m not the only one who’s found my voice. Whether she wants it or not, so has the church. God grant that she may find the voices of many other daughters.

Several times now here on this blog I’ve referenced the Missional Life program, but I have yet to give a direct explanation of what ML is or how I am involved in it. (If you’ve already read my contextual education paper, “Educated and Formed,” you’ll have a pretty good idea. If not, you might want to see pages 2-4 of that document for some more in-depth information about ML than what I’ll give here.)

Missional Life began in the spring of 2011, when five graduate students (myself, Jordan Bunch, Rosten Callarman, Benjamin Covington, and John Kaczmarek) began meeting with Dr. Kent Smith to discern ways forward in forming and training undergraduate students to successfully lead a life on mission with God, regardless of their career interests or future place of residence. In the fall of 2011 we began a pilot year of engagement with around 20 students (as well as with one additional coach, Brent Bailey, who’d joined us in the meantime). We learned a number of things from that year, as we’d hoped, and after some discernment and planning we began our second iteration of ML in the spring of 2013, this time with approximately 30 students and 8-9 new leaders.

My own participation in ML has varied. From the beginning I’ve been part of the overarching planning team, what is now organized (in sociocratic terms) as the General Circle. At times I have served as the administrator for that circle, keeping meeting notes, arranging agendas, and making sure necessary organization and communication happen. In the pilot year, I served as a coach, alongside Benjamin, of a struggling cohort of four students. After that cohort was declared defunct, Benjamin and I shifted our energy and attention to something that fit our skill sets a little more closely: constructing an ACU course that would align with the vision, mission, and aim of ML. The course, Foundations of the Missional Life, will be offered in the fall of 2013. Because Benjamin will be moving away from Abilene upon graduating, I will serve as the principal professor, with Dr. Smith coming alongside me at times as we deem helpful.

Below you will find the artifacts that I have chosen to indicate my involvement in Missional Life. I have included for you the ML Proposal that shows the processes and outcomes of our pilot year, the ML brochure we designed for distribution to students, a link to the syllabus under construction for the Foundations of the Missional Life course, and a link to the Google Drive folder that contains all the important (and some not-so-important) Missional Life documents to date.

ML Proposal

ML Brochure

Foundations of the Missional Life Syllabus

ML Google Drive Folders

I believe these artifacts (or to be more accurate, my involvement in ML) indicate several of the desired outcomes for the MDiv. Most notably, I see through my engagement in ML increased ability to interpret the Christian faith and contemporary cultural contexts (outcome 3abcde), deepened ability to practice theology in those contemporary cultural contexts (outcome 4acd), honed ability to lead and equip the church (outcome 6abcdefg, especially 6f), and greater clarity in ministerial identity (outcome 10abc). (At the risk of overwhelming you with outcomes, I would additionally list 2abc, 8abcde, and 9ab as outcomes demonstrated well through my involvement in ML, though to a lesser degree than those listed above.)

Through my participation in Missional Life, I have learned a great deal about what spiritual formation can look like and can entail. I have been challenged to have broader and deeper vision for the Kingdom. I have gained a better understanding of the balance of being willing to push past my comfort zone at times while also knowing and playing to my own God-given strengths. I have identified more healthy and unhealthy ways to be part of an organization or community. I have discovered more about what my own place in the Kingdom might be, and I’ve been excited to begin living into that vision in the here and now.

Below you’ll find artifacts relating to my field education experience, which I undertook in the fall of 2012 under the direction of Drs. Carson Reed and Kent Smith. Included are my initial field education proposal, a short summary of Richard Osmer’s book, Practical Theology: An Introduction, which I used to frame my work and writing, my field notes from the semester, my reflection paper, and a link to the syllabus that I and a colleague are currently constructing for the Missional Life course I will be teaching in the fall of 2013 (as discussed in the reflection paper). These artifacts exhibit my increasing  knowledge of the theological content of the Christian tradition (outcome 2abc), competence at interpreting two congregational cultures and practicing theology in those cultures’ contexts (outcome 3d and 4abcd), my ability to lead and equip the church (outcome 6abcdef), and my own growing awareness of and investment in my ministerial identity (outcome 10abc).

Overall, the field education experience was a positive one. There were challenges, to be sure, largely related to the too-busy schedule I had during that semester. But I learned a great deal from my observation and experience. I was able to see just how different two organizations with similar goals can look, and from that I learned more about the significance of an organization’s having clearly defined aims and good teamwork from a diverse group of people. I learned a new way to frame theological exploration and intervention—Osmer’s four theological tasks—and I spent some time reflecting on my own strengths, weaknesses, and desires regarding those tasks. And over the course of the semester, I learned more about the kind of formational education I would like to be a part of in the future. In addition to seeing (and helping) others be educated and formed, I myself was educated and formed, and I would guess that that is the point of a field education experience. I look forward to carrying forth into my future the things I have learned and the ways I have been shaped.

Field Education Proposal

Summary of Osmer’s Practical Theology

My Field Notes

Educated and Formed: A Semester of Formational Education with Missional Life and the Justice and Urban Studies Team

Foundations of the Missional Life Syllabus

During the course of my education in the GST another passion of mine that has emerged is practical theology. My interest in this field is intimately connected to some of my other loves: justice, spiritual formation, community, mission… Pursuing practical theology allows me to take the theories and ideas that emerge within these other passions and ask what they look like in the everyday lives of everyday Christians.

The papers that I’ve linked to below display my beginning thoughts on two issues of practical theology. In “Sharing Food, Sharing Life,” (written for Dr. Cukrowski’s New Testament Ethics class in the spring of 2011), I explore the spiritual significance of food and eating for our identity as the people of God. The “Theological Reflection Paper” posted below was written for Dr. Robert Foster’s Justice in the Biblical Tradition class in the spring of 2010. It is an examination of one of the most deplorable injustices of our day—human trafficking—and the ways James 1:22-2:26 challenges Christians to respond rather than remain in ignorance and apathy.

These papers (rudimentary and faltering as they may be) betray my deep love for issues of practical theology, show at least beginning attempts to analyze and understand and draw connections to contemporary cultural contexts (outcome 4abcd), exhibit ways in which the theologies and traditions of Christianity intersect with these matters (outcome 2abc), and indicate some of my perspective on how the church can and should be equipped in knowledge and in practice to engage in issues like these (outcomes 6abcd, and 8abd).

Although my passion for good, healthy food and constructive eating practices is particularly well known (particularly in the St. Ann Community), my interest in practical theology is by no means limited to the two issues I’ve written about here. I love the idea of continuing in the vein of practical theology well into the future, helping people understand what our actual practices of everyday life—shopping, building, working, driving, exercising, talking, etc.—say about us and what we believe about God and our participation in God’s mission in the world. I’d especially enjoy then helping people shape their practices so that those reflect healthier, more constructive beliefs, therefore impacting the world in increasingly positive ways for the Kingdom. At this level, then, I suppose these papers are also an indication of what I see as an important part of my own ministerial identity (outcome 10bc): serving as one who helps people understand the implications of their beliefs and practices and discern how those do or do not align with the best of the Christian tradition.

Sharing Food, Sharing Life

Theological Reflection Paper

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 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.”

This is the first draft of my contextual theology paper for Stephen Johnson’s Contexts of Ministry class. I include it as an artifact here in my portfolio to represent progress towards outcomes 3bc, 4d, and 11d.

This paper is my beginning attempt to set forth an understanding of what contextual theology is. I start from my own definition of theology (taken from an assignment for Fred Aquino’s Systematic Theology class last fall). I then proceed to talk about how contextual theology is theology incarnate, and I discuss what exactly that means for our practice of theology. I also draw on a few assigned readings and experiences from the class, incorporating the insight I received from them into my own explication of contextual theology (4d). This paper, while not engaging a specific context, does lay the groundwork for that kind of endeavor in the future, so I believe that it shows progress towards outcome 3 (specifically indicators 3b and 3c).

While there is still more work to be done when it comes to formulating a firm interpretation of what contextual theology is and means in my life, this paper does provide a springboard for that kind of work to be done. This assignment was an extremely helpful one for me because it challenged me to define and articulate what I understand contextual theology to be. That will be helpful not only during my studies at ACU but throughout the rest of my life in ministry, I believe. It will give me a place from which to orient myself as I carry out contextual ministry and therefore contextual theology as well.

The paper seems to me, at least, to be well written (11d). This impression was confirmed by Dr. Johnson, who assigned it a 92/100 and commented, “Very well written reflection. I appreciate the care with which you have articulated a theology rooted in time, place, and practice.” Dr. Johnson pointed out a few areas for improvement as well, which I will be sure to focus on when I revise the paper towards the end of the semester.

Here is the text of the paper:

Contextual theology, to the best of my ability to comprehend and verbalize at this point in my academic and ministry career, is essentially theology incarnate. To borrow from Eugene Peterson’s language, contextual theology is theology that has become “flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14, The Message).

Attempting to set aside the contextual aspect for just a moment, theology is, by my own definition, human attentiveness to mysteries pertaining to and revealed by God, entailing discernment as to what those unfolding mysteries indicate about and demand from the faithful. It follows, then, that because God is the one doing the revealing, and because the mysteries of God are always revealed to people located within specific historical, personal, and cultural settings, no “pure” form of theology exists apart from context, at least not to us as human beings. Perhaps for God, but not for those of us to whom God has revealed Godself. In that way, then, it is not truly possible to lay aside the idea of context when speaking of theology. All theology is contextual theology.

That is not to say, however, that all contextual theology is created equal. Some theology is only contextual in the limited sense of the above definition. Some of it, though, is contextual in a much deeper, much more committed way. This kind of contextual theology is theology in an earnest attempt to take on flesh. It is theology that engrosses its devotees in the amazing yet often disheveled world that God has created. It is theology that has abandoned its sheltered existence in academic isolation and has “moved into the neighborhood” of the real lives of real people. The embodiment of theology in concrete contextual settings means that theology is no longer theology in theory only, merely an intellectual exercise of systematizing knowledge about God. Rather, theology is lived out in a particular place and time among a particular people. This kind of contextual theology is also practiced in particular ways.

For one, contextual theology is just that: contextual. It takes into account and is informed by the cultures and contexts within which it is located. In their chapter entitled “Theological Thinking as Contextual Practice,” Brelsford and Senior assert that theological thinking “is not ex nihilo ideation; rather, thinking is always a project of reconstruction of preexisting assumptions and perceptions formed from the material of tradition, history, and experience” (42). Their statement applies to contextual theology as much as it does to theological thinking. Contextual theology does not emerge from nowhere, and it does not proceed into nowhere. Rather, it is birthed in the interaction of the traditions, histories, and experiences of specific individuals and communities, and it engages those same traditions, histories, and experiences even as it exists among them.

Secondly, and closely related, theology applied in context will always involve others. Brelsford and Senior also claim that theological thinking is far more of a communal pursuit than an individualistic one. Again, I would argue that the same is true for contextual theology. Although I suppose it is possible for one person to receive, interpret, and apply theological insights in his or her own individual life, even this undertaking in the limited sense of contextual theology would be a communal one insofar as no human being has lived in total isolation from the outside world for the entirety of life. More to the point, however, a contextual theology is a theology formed through interaction with a certain people and/or lived out among those certain people. So whatever way you look at it, contexts are always contexts that involve others in one fashion or another.

Furthermore, the relationship of theology and context in contextual theology is a mutual one, for the association serves two purposes simultaneously. Locating theology in context not only makes theology more contextually driven, but it also makes contexts more theologically intelligible. So while theology is challenged and strengthened by context, being focused and streamlined to reflect a particular experience, that experience can be brought further into the light of a growing understanding of who God is and how God is at work, allowing the people in that context to interpret their situation theologically. Take, for example, the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day march earlier this year. Theology shaped participation in this event in a number of ways. First of all, a certain theological understanding of human personhood and what it entails led to the crisis of extreme racial injustices that were being protested. Secondly, theology helped fuel the Civil Rights Movement and its most notable leader who was being celebrated that day. And personal theologies (ever-present even if subconscious) led to my and others’ participation in the rally and march. At the same time, however, our participation shaped our theology. Seeing people coming together to stand up for justice and claim that God supports their cause might lead me to consider the idea that justice might be something of great importance to God. And perhaps, if it really is important to God, it should also be important to me and to us as a community. Rather than existing as a set of two monologues, in which theology speaks to context and context replies with its own lecture for theology, however, this kind of contextual theological development is a dialogical process. The two resources of theology and context inform each other in a deliberately interactive way; give and take occurs between the two, and a discussion in the hopes of learning and transformation continues until a balance is struck and communion is found.

Finally, the dialogue of contextual theology follows a certain kind of procedure. While the exact details of the process will vary some from situation to situation (for what else is to be expected of a contextual theology?), the method remains basically the same: a contextual theology must engage its context, and it must interpret its context.

Engaging a context can take on various forms, some more integrated in that context than others. At the very least, engaging a context requires presence. Whether physically, relationally, intellectually, ideologically, or in some other way, one must be present to a context in order to engage it. The next step, once that necessary presence has been established, is to engage the context by devoting attention to it. This begins with simple observations about who is (or is not) there and what is (or is not) happening in the context. In her chapter on attention, Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us that “the practice of paying attention is as simple as looking twice at people and things you might just as easily ignore” (34). And beginning from this simple foundation of looking twice, paying attention can draw an observer into a context in even greater ways, leading her or him to ask the question, “Why?” It is at this point that aspects of interpretation come into play, but before moving on to those, we must look at one further aspect of engaging a context: interaction. Appropriate interaction with a context is key to engaging that context well. While in some situations, the only appropriate interaction is that of presence and attentive observation, in other settings, one may ask questions of those present or even participate in the context’s rhythms oneself. The level at which one is allowed to interact with a context in an approved of way can sometimes be sensed intuitively, but at other times the observer-participant might want to ask what would be considered appropriate.

Interpreting a context is generally more difficult than engaging it. While presence, attention, and interaction may be relatively straightforward for even an outsider, the history and meanings behind a context are often extremely complicated and are difficult to spell out without great care. Vanhoozer’s chapter, “What is Everyday Theology?” provides an excellent discussion of cultural hermeneutics that could also be applied to the hermeneutics of contextual theology. Vanhoozer admits that interpretation will be both messy and provisional, for, in his words, “Interpretation is not an exact science” (36). His categories of the worlds behind, of, and in front of cultural texts could well be applied to the process of interpreting contexts of theology. In other words, “Who made this [context] and why? What does it mean and how does it work? What effect does it have on those who receive, use, or consume it?” (48). And Vanhoozer also admits to the dialogical nature of context and theology, saying, “We don’t simply read cultural [or contextual] texts but we read through them. In short: the cultural [and contextual] texts we love best come to serve as the lens through which we view everything else and as the compass that orients us toward the good life” (36).

As we communally engage and interpret our contexts, making space to involve ourselves intricately in the dialogue between those contexts and theology, I believe that we will see a strong contextual theology developing. It will be one that allows us to observe the mysteries that God is revealing to us in a particular time and place, discerning both what those mysteries tell us about God and ourselves in that time and place and what they subsequently ask of us who live as God’s people in that time and place. This will not just be theoretical theology. This will be theology incarnate.

While I will be the first to admit the limitations of this artifact, I am proud to include it as part of my portfolio, for this document is a highly symbolic one for me. To begin with, this was the first time in the history of that particular congregation that a woman was included in the adult curriculum-writing process. I was honored and humbled to be that first woman, and even more honored and humbled when the minister who invited me to participate was willing to defend that decision to some who questioned it. Additionally, this is the first and only formal lesson plan I’ve ever written. As such, it represents both a challenge and a success to me. Because adult teaching and curriculum-writing opportunities are highly limited for women in the Churches of Christ, this was a relatively new and intimidating task for me. And although there are surely innumerable ways in which the lesson could be strengthened, for me it was an accomplishment to even complete it and have it used.

This lesson plan seems to demonstrate several outcomes required by the MDiv program. Serving as a guide to Psalm 8, this lesson plan at least demonstrates beginning growth toward competency in exegesis and interpretation of a biblical text using the resources available to me at the time (1cd). It was also an exercise in bridging the gap between theology and context (4ad, 6b), as I was able to guide the teachers and therefore the class participants through some of the implications of the text for our lives as Christians. The lesson and the entire series were prepared collaboratively for teachers of adult classes, so by my participation in this effort I was able to work with and for a variety of people, communicating clearly to them what I believed to be the significance of the psalm. (6df, 11acd).

Psalm 8