Note from the Editor: This reprinted post reflects a few of the many experiences encountered by some of our Wesleyan Methodist clergy in North America. Today as we appreciate the legacy of Dr. King’s work, we also commit ourselves to continue to pursue justice. It is a gift to honor their voices today.

A note about the following reflections from Black and Hispanic clergy:

These accounts have been given by denominational leaders, academics, and clergy from across Wesleyan Methodist denominations.

As a white editor, I have been keenly conscious of the weight of holding these testimonies with care and respect. Content has been edited for length. As much as possible, editorial work has been extremely light in order to stay out of the way and allow the words and accounts to speak for themselves.

Ministry is not easy and white pastors have many stories of difficult parishioners or hard seasons. These accounts illustrate the unique individual histories of minority pastors – and the unique challenges they continue to face on top of regular ministry demands.

Elizabeth Glass Turner

Editor, A Wesleyan Accent

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“It took me some time to share these reflections because in recalling these experiences, it was like pulling the Band-Aid off the wound. Some wounds never really heal because another one plops on top of it. They just become scar tissue that irritates us under the skin.” – a contributor

Have you ever been called a racial epithet? If so, what were the circumstances?

Rev. Dr. Joy Moore, UMC: I have often described my youth and young adulthood as living in a gap in history, a period of promise somewhere between my 5^th and 12^th birthdays as I experienced life under the protection of my parents. It would be the summer after my freshman year of high school when I would be confronted with my racial status. A friend and I had volunteered to work in a Catholic program for impoverished inner-city youth in Milwaukee.  One day, as we walked back to where we were staying, a few younger boys rode around us on their bikes shouting at us. My friend was visibly shaken by their taunts. I, with a newly attained teenage defiance, questioned the pre-teens as to whom they were referring. My friend stared with incredulity at my apparent unawareness that their characterization referenced us. But my simple question dispersed the bikers as quickly as their name-calling dispersed my innocence. It was the first time a white person had addressed me as “nigger”…

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais, UMC: I was called a nigger while pulling out of the parking lot of a grocery store. Another motorist almost cut me off as I drove down the lot and I honked my horn. The passenger rolled his window down and hurled the slur at me, laughed and topped it off by flipping his middle finger at me. I was stunned and frozen for a few minutes, but I recovered and composed myself quickly and drove on away. The car was full of white boys and I wasn’t sure what else they might do.

Rev. Edgar Bazan, UMC: What is said with a simple scowl sometimes is even more powerful than words. There have been a few times when I experienced rejection because I am Hispanic and have an accent when I speak. Even though I am very confident of myself, it hurts to feel rejected because of who I am. What am I supposed to do, bleach my skin? Is my worth devalued because I moved to live in a different geographical area? Of course not, we know this if we are decent people. I know people that have been deeply hurt not just by looks but by actual hate-filled and ignorant racial slurs. It hurts me: things like, “wet-back, go back to your country, speak English, you are not American,” and so on.

 

Have you ever been physically or verbally harassed because of your race or ethnicity? If so, what were the circumstances?

Rev. Marlan Branch, AME: While living in Glencoe, IL, my dad was actually on the news because he worked in Evanston and would have to drive home late every day to Glencoe. He would get pulled over by the police at least twice a week once he reached the white neighborhood.

One time my friend and I were walking to his gymnastics practice on the North Shore. He was one year older than me and was black too. Here we were, two black boys – me in 7th grade and he in 8th grade. The police stopped us, searched his bag and our persons because we “fit the description.” Apparently there had been some robberies in the area.

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais: I’ll speak from the point of being harassed in an academic setting and in a corporate setting. When I was an undergraduate, studying journalism, one of my professors said, “you dress so cute all the time. It’s like you’re white. You even wear your hair like a white girl. I don’t even wear nice clothes like that. And for the life of me I can’t figure out how you’re doing that because you’re not white. I’ve decided that I don’t like you.” Imagine my frustration, anger and disbelief that a professor, someone who is entrusted to present a fair and balanced environment in higher education, (instructing the class in balanced news coverage of all things) actually told me those words outright. She then used her white privilege to begin failing me in class. I ultimately passed the class but my work suffered because she intentionally always found fault with anything that I wrote.

During my career working as a communications director for a major national non-profit, I encountered harassment from a peer when I was promoted from a director position to a regional vice president position. The peer, who was in my same position (just in a different market) verbalized that the only reason that I was promoted is because I am black and that another team member, who had been at the company longer, should have been given that position. She said that I took that team member’s spot. Both team members were white. The working relationship became strained.

Rev. Dr. Joy Moore: Only by giving attention to history did I become aware that the announcement of the right to vote was not my achievement but a delayed right granted to United States citizens of my race. It would require a similar benefit of hindsight to learn that my father’s refusal to stop when we travelled was neither stinginess nor stubbornness in response to my naïve pleas for a bathroom. Rather, his concern was safeguarding his young family from humiliations levied as refusal of service. Because of this, I never heard the restaurant owner who told my parents if they came around to the back, he would make an exception to serve us since our family was fairer skinned. I didn’t yet comprehend the rest areas we frequented as we drove south were only for “colored.”

Later, when shopping alone back in Chicago, caught off-guard one afternoon, I stopped in a drug store to make an emergency purchase. Just as I picked up the package and turned toward the checkout counter, the Middle Eastern shop owner accosted me with an accusation of shoplifting.  Publicly, my person and purse was searched, displaying for all to see my wallet and the cash I was carrying while drawing attention to the lone item in my possession, a box of sanitary napkins. That afternoon I perceived the difference between humiliation and indignity, and the contrasting response each fuels in me. The former, shame; the latter, animosity.

The public elementary school education I received in segregated Chicago more than prepared me for private secondary education. So there would be no humiliation when I was again accused of wrongdoing during my freshman year of college. Upon reading my final paper for a sociology class, a male professor accused me of plagiarism, insisting, “no black student from Chicago could write like this.”

As the white sociology professor attempted to accuse my writing skills, the white English professor challenged the premise of my argument. Avoiding any stereotypes of African Americans, she enumerated the evidence of Asian mathematical acumen, the fiery tempers of redheads and simple-minded blondes. Knowing I had taken college-level English classes in high school, her dispute with my paper focused on its argument: nurture has more to do with development than nature.

Rev. Otis T. McMillan, AMEZ: I have been pulled over by two Moore county sheriffs, with their hands on their guns, with no explanation. They saw my sign on the back window and my clergy collar, they let me go.

Barbara and I were pulled over on NC 87 by a North Carolina Highway Patrolman, who said I was going a little fast. When I asked, “how fast was I traveling?” he said, “do you want the warning or do you want a ticket?”

 

For you personally, as an individual, what was the most painful experience you’ve had related to your race or ethnicity?

Rev. Yvette Blair Lavallais: The first time that I really began to understand that my race and skin color was considered “less than” is when I was in the first grade. My family had moved to a neighborhood that was slowly becoming diverse as more Black families began to call the area home. A little girl in my class named Ruthie, who played hopscotch with me and my other friends, was a little blonde-haired girl who spoke softly and wore her hair in a choppy pixie-cut. We had become fast friends and always played together at recess. I didn’t know it at the time, but Ruthie’s mother was disgusted that her daughter had made friends with a black girl. On a particular day that the mom rode her bicycle to pick up Ruthie, she instructed Ruthie to tell me that she was taking Ruthie out of our school and moving her somewhere else. When Ruthie related the news to me, these were the words that this little six-year-old girl struggled and stammered to say, being very careful to try not to tell me the exact words: “My mom says that I can’t play with you anymore because you’re black and we can’t be friends. I won’t be coming back to this school either.”

That very afternoon, my mother and I had a long talk about that quick yet painful moment. She explained to me that some people are just filled with hatred and that there will be people like that who exist in the world. To this day, I still remember that because it ultimately began to shape my experiences as a little black girl growing up in a society where parents didn’t bite their tongues to express how they felt about the way God had made me. And that I needed to know that being in this black skin was a reason not to be friends with me.

The other defining moment is when I was in junior high school. It was open house night and I was helping my math teacher set up her room. Her daughter, who was about eight years old, walked up to me, stood up in a chair and came face to face with me. She looked me right in the eyes and said, “I don’t like you because you’re black and I don’t like black people.” I was stunned but not so naïve to think that my teacher’s daughter uttering those words could possibly have just happened. Once more, my mom and I had a conversation about this occurrence.

Rev. Marlan Branch: I have had the fortunate opportunity to live and grow up in many different places. I’ve lived in the Deep South, the west side of Chicago, Glencoe (IL) where I and one other black girl were the only black kids in our grade from 6th to 8th grade, and Evanston (IL) which is a conglomerate of every demographic of people.

While in middle school I had to take a music class. I didn’t realize it then, but every class period the teacher would send me to a room by myself to “practice” and she would never come and teach me the music like the rest of the class.

I was the only little black kid in the class.

 

For you as an individual, what is the most common misconception you encounter about your race and identity?

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais: The leading one is that we are all thieves and looking for an opportunity to steal something. I surmised that to be true on the day that I was stopped by a police officer. I was driving my brand-new SUV that I had saved up the down payment for and purchased. It was in my name. I was in downtown Dallas and had just pulled off from a “red to green light” when the patrol car came up behind me. The officer asked me whose car was this because it couldn’t possibly be mine. He told me that it was too expensive of a car for me to be driving. When I showed him my license, registration, and papers, he was puzzled that the SUV actually belonged to me. I didn’t get a ticket, but I did get a reality check that once more being a black person driving a nice vehicle was “suspicious.”

Another misconception is that black women have the “black angry woman” syndrome. I was warned about this during one of my experiences in the ordination candidacy process in The United Methodist Church. I was told by a lay and a clergy person, “you’re very articulate for a black woman. You’d make a good associate pastor almost anywhere in this conference. Just make sure you don’t do like some of the other black clergy women we have and become known as the black angry woman.”

There is a misconception that black people don’t speak the King’s English, that we can’t make a complete sentence. When we shatter that perception, there is visible shock and surprise often accompanied by, “how did you learn to speak to eloquently?”

Do you estimate that the Church in general or local congregations specifically are more, less, or the same amount of welcoming than interactions in general society? Do you worship in a diverse congregation or one where you are a majority or a minority?

Rev. Edgar Bazan: In general, churches are places where one experiences hospitality and acceptance. As new guests or visitors, we typically get a warm welcome. We are encouraged to join the church, which is great. But once we do and have spent time as insiders, we realize that to share power with someone that has a different heritage or race is not always as welcoming. I am troubled when I hear of a white church with a Hispanic ministry because typically they are “those people” or are the “Hispanic pastor congregation.”

Worshiping as a minority of non-white heritage means by default that we are not going to be in positions of power or influence unless we prove ourselves to be worthy. Yes, churches are typically healthier places than secular ones when it comes to race, but being welcoming is just a fraction of what it means to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais: I am serving in what the United Methodist Church calls a “cross-racial appointment,” meaning that I am a non-white pastor serving a predominantly white congregation. My experiences so far have been positive. Both congregations have been welcoming and have shown love and hospitality toward me. An elderly man shared with me that when he heard I was coming to the church he was a bit apprehensive. He was already getting adjusted to having a woman pastor and now they were sending another woman, a black one this time. He followed it by telling me that this was a first for him in 50 years of being a member and after getting to know me, he was glad that I was here. On another occasion, a woman in her 70’s walked up to me after the worship celebration, grasped my hands and told me “I am proud to call you my pastor.” That was a shocking yet beautiful moment for me.

I preached a difficult message the Sunday following the deaths of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and the five Dallas law enforcement officers. A member told me about her experience of being 10 years old in Birmingham when the 16th Street Baptist Church was bombed in 1963 and four black girls lost their lives. She shared, “imagine in 2016 that the Holy Spirit would come in the form of a black woman pastor and preach to this congregation.” That too was a beautiful moment. I don’t know how this registers on the race barometer compared to society in general, but it is a refreshing start.

Rev. Dr. Joy Moore: The neighborhood congregation where I attended was affiliated with the predominately white National Council of Community Churches. Conferences and area collaborations afforded exposure to Christians who were of a variety of cultures other than my own. It seemed, from this limited experience, that the church was the best place to strive for and demonstrate unity across racial barriers.

But a decade into ministry, I was assigned a congregation where five women worked incessantly to remove me from ministry. Bold to place their fabrications and misrepresentations into writing, these women informed the bishop they would “not allow me a success.” Contrary to the affirmation of the majority of the 200-member congregation, these women drafted a letter in response to the cabinet’s inquiry whether my being the first woman of color to serve the congregation might have any bearing on their opinion. About 30 persons signed the letter – most who no longer attended the church or had even lived in the state during the entire span of my life. Their response: “How dare you call us racist!” A member of the cabinet informed me that had I not had a reputation born of a decade of service in that conference, my ministry indeed would have ended on the strength of their accusations.

 

What experience do you most wish someone different than yourself could experience for themselves in order to better understand the reality of your life?

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais: To walk into a store and have a white sales associate follow you around, point you in the direction of the clearance rack and ask you what are you looking to steal. To be the only black person having lunch with a group of white colleagues and having your order taken last and your food brought out last. To go on your third interview for a public relations position and be told, “you are so impressive, you would do well in this role but you don’t look the part because these jobs are usually reserved for blonde-haired girls.” To step into an elevator and watch as a white woman clutches her purse because she believes you might be a pick-pocketer. To be told in a work setting that it’s highly unusual to be black and to be this smart.

 

How does it feel to be the only person of color in a predominantly Caucasian conference room, congregation, school, or meeting?

Rev. Edgar Bazan: A good friend of mine that was an associate pastor many years in a predominantly white church shared with me one occasion: while in the church office a member of the church came in to visit and greeted everyone else except him. Without addressing him in any way, this individual said to the secretary, “when did we get a new custodian?” My good friend was Hispanic and this individual was white. I have had similar experiences in which I needed to do more in order to prove my position or credentials because I am Hispanic.

 

What gestures, actions or attitudes from others have you found to be most meaningful and healing?

Rev. Yvette Blair-Lavallais: I have colleagues in the North Texas Conference, Central Conference and Texas Conference who are intentional when it comes to creating environments of diversity. They are very much aware of the imbalance of black and brown representation in the pulpit and in leadership roles within the Conferences, inviting us to be participants in programs and to serve in other areas that have historically been unopen to us.

Beyond the church setting, I have white friends and colleagues whom I interact with regularly and catch up with over coffee. Some of these friends are the same ones who have responded right away in my seasons of joy and sorrow. Their presence, willingness to listen, their empathetic ear and rise to action are all helpful and meaningful.

Closing reflections:

“I wish I had known back then what I know now.”

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“The victories of the Civil Rights Movement seemed to make possible a bridge across the gap such that persons might comprehend that human capacity for intelligence, morality, and character were not divinely meted out during creation to certain continents of the globe. The gap in history seems to be again widening. The brief period of promise somewhere between my 5^th and 12^th birthdays closed around history repeating itself as I experience what my parents tried to protect me from.

 I’m old enough that my first experience of racism is not nearly as defining as my current experiences. Then, I was taught to expect what I am experiencing. But I had role models who were respected, if only by our community. Today, with instant access to every random opinion or public accusation, the volume of the disrespect is as visual as the bodies hanging from trees when my parents were young. It will be more difficult to call forth a beloved community with 21^st century claims for recovering the America of the 1950s, especially if black and brown bodies experience that recovery with 19^th century violence.

The caution to “mind the gap” on London’s Underground is not to fall into it. It serves as a reminder of the gap’s presence and a summons to avoid it. Those who claim their identity by race, gender, nation, political party, economic or marital status are reminded to be aware of the gap created by these associations. Avoid excluding others as they exclude you. Instead, be mindful of the little things still sought to be achieved by each generation: human dignity, respect, and recognition that the world for which Christ died includes the descendants of persons not born in Europe. Those who claim to be followers of Jesus are summoned to practice the community someone dared ask God to create.”

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“What is behind our words, what is deep in our hearts, that which makes us assume that just because an individual is of a certain race means that he or she can only aspire to limited options for personal development is in fact what is at the core of our race challenges. And this has to do with our lack of love for ourselves. If we could love ourselves with compassion and have self-awareness of our needs and suffering, we would be able to relate to others and treat them in the way we would like to be treated. But this is a rare sight. We are prevalently narcissistic in so many ways, that we don’t have a heart to go a mile in someone’s else’s shoes, let alone a second mile. Because I am the minority, I have learned to relate to those that are usually marginalized. So, when I am in a meeting where I am minority, for example, I am more sensitive to welcome and include those that are not noticed by the predominant group. I have suffered exclusion, and I don’t want anyone to be relegated to such experiences.”

One of my great hesitancies when I first entered the ministry concerned leadership.  I was afraid to lead.  I had too many doubts.  What if I choose wrong?  What if I lead my people poorly?  What if I make a mistake and it all falls apart?   

As I was going through ordination in the United Methodist Church, my mentor suggested I read In the Name of Jesus by Henri Nouwen, and that introduced me to the life of leadership in ministry. And my heart was on fire! Now I love leadership. While there are many, many ways that I need continued growth, leadership is truly life-giving to me.    

But at a pastor’s conference a few years back, something happened that caused me to stop and rethink this passion.  The speakers kept hammering the theme, “leadership, leadership, leadership!”  And I agreed with them in principle – but I turned to my youth pastor and said, “Honest question that I don’t know the answer to: is leadership the chief virtue you want in your pastor?”  In the years since I have thought long and hard about that question.  Is leadership the chief virtue we desire for our pastors?     

As important as leadership is, it cannot be the driving force of ministry.  So, then, what is? What is the virtue that we as pastors need to develop in our lives and that our people need from us most of all?     

It’s a struggle to find the right word, but the closest thing I can come up with is incarnation.  The goal of salvation is the recovery of the image of God that had been corrupted by the fall.  Our very salvation is part of the process, whereby the Holy Spirit, through the means of grace, draws us closer to God and we grow deeper in his grace and love.  Through that grace, we love God fully and love our neighbor fully. That’s the purpose of all our salvation, and in the end, our ministry. 

I think that ministry today must be led out of incarnation.  The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1).  Emmanuel, God with us.  Through Jesus Christ, the fullness of God was blessed to dwell.  He is true God from true God, begotten, not made, as we confess in the Nicene Creed. As we are filled with the Holy Spirit, Christ dwells within us.  I think that this notion of ministry, flowing from incarnation, paints a path forward for us, and for the Body of Christ.     

With so many pastoral leaders fallen in integrity breakdowns along with what seems to be the current unraveling of power structures within our society, we are beginning to see those without a voice now having a voice to speak truth to the power that has harmed them.  When we see this and we see the (often) men at fault, it is easy to say, just stop it!  Just stop being a cad, just stop abusing power, just stop.    

Those words should and must be said.  As a pastor who has been blessed to work with amazing female pastors and leaders, one of my main jobs as a leader is to help create a space where everyone, every voice, feels safe.     

But for pastors, our ministry must not only be based upon morality; it must be based upon incarnation.  To me, this means a couple of things.    

First, to do ministry out of the Incarnation is to see the inherent worth of others.  It is so easy for leaders in many fields to see people as existing only to serve whatever purpose they have for that leader.  Eugene Peterson makes an analogy in The Contemplative Pastor that compares program-driven ministry to strip-mining the land: using others for our purpose or our goals and then discarding them when we are finished.  Yet the Incarnation reminds us that Jesus died for the world: all of the world. And everyone, male, female, young, old, powerful, or powerless, everyone has an inherent worth that comes from being made in the image of God.  If we do ministry out of the Incarnation, no one is an “object” to be used by the leader.  Everyone is a beloved child whom Christ came to save. We must treat all with the radical love of Christ.

Let me say this again, and say it loudly: everyone has worth.  No one is an object, and any ministry or leadership philosophy that leads people to deny that or not to see that inherent worth in others is wrong and not of God.     

Second, to do ministry out of the Incarnation allows us to see the source of our strength.  One of the things that constantly amazes me is how our society seeks to see spiritual matters through clinical terms.  The answer to every ill our society faces is education, or jobs, or other “fixes.”  While education, money, and resources are vital to living a life with hope today, they are not the fix.  I have heard this quote attributed to C.S. Lewis: “Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.”   

Our education or even our values do not stand on their own.  While yes, in how we treat each other, we need helpful guidelines that keep us walking together, in the end, we will not treat others with the respect they are due unless we see their worth and allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives, changing us, molding us, making us into the people God desires us to be.     

Ministry, and life, in general, are not an act of willpower.  

Ministry is an act of surrender to the Spirit who lives within us.  We are called to live and to lead out of the Incarnation, the spirit of Christ dwelling within us.  We are not called to stand up and fight, but to fall to our knees and surrender.  The Incarnation reminds us where our strength comes from.     

And lastly, to do ministry out of the Incarnation reminds us of the purpose of our faith.  Jesus Christ died for the world.  That’s why ministers do what we do.  He loves all.  All can be saved, and as Wesley said, all can be saved to the uttermost.  We are not here to build a more efficient organization; we are here to tend to and lead the Body of Christ.  The church is not a Fortune 500 company.  It is not a corporation.  It is a living, breathing body.  As Christ fills us, we fill the church, and the church fills the world.  We live out that grace and hope.  We are the protector of the weak, the widow, the orphan.  We love, we serve, we give, all through the power of Christ.     

Because that is what we are here for.  Not to grow.  Not to use people.  Not for fame, attention, or power.  But to live out the power of Christ within us, the mystery of God.    

We have been called into Christ’s ministry.  Our world needs the church and Christian leaders to live out of this calling now more than ever.     

 

Note: featured image is “Follow Me, Satan: The Temptation of Jesus Christ” by Ilya Repin.

The church has always been challenged in maintaining an effective and healthy witness of the faith beyond the walls of its buildings. Every revival throughout the history of the church was started because the fellowship of believers was awakened by the Spirit to witness to their faith in public settings. This movement from the private (or inward) faith behavior to an intentional engagement with the needs and well–being of the secular community is what has kept the church alive, bringing renewal and revival to the body of Christ. Without the public witness of the faith, the church has no purpose other than slowly dying.  

This writing aims to start the conversation about what it means to be a missional church. It addresses the theological question of what it means to believe in Jesus and follow his teachings; the end purpose of the mission of the church; and the challenges that the church faces regarding the privatization of the faith. These topics will be presented in a series of six reflections. 

Do As I Say 

In Luke 6:46 we read, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I tell you?” Jesus said this to a crowd that was following him, questioning how they were witnessing to their faith. This, indeed, is a hard question that lands with a punch. Jesus was challenging his audience not only to believe in him but also to do what he was teaching them and live in the way he was modeling because by doing what he said, we will find life and wellness for ourselves. Jesus uses an example: those who listen to what he says are like a strong and well-built house, and those who ignore him are like a weak house poorly built on the sand. 

This statement reveals that acknowledging Jesus as Lord is not the whole of the gospel – hence the challenging question. These people were claiming to know Jesus but were failing in doing what he was telling them. Evidently, this bothered Jesus, for his mission was not just so we may be saved, believe rightly, or have the right religion, but to show us the way and truth towards the fullness of life through his teachings and doings (Acts 1:1). Jesus is not only concerned about what we believe about him but about what we do with what he has given us.  

Do You Know Me? 

To grasp the significance of this passage further, consider why Jesus repeated the word “Lord” two times. There is a reason for this within the context of the whole Bible. When the Bible repeats a person’s name it is to imply a sort of intimacy. This is both a cultural and Hebrew language dynamic. Examples of this are found in stories like God speaking to Abraham at Mount Moriah; as Abraham is about to plunge a knife into the breast of Isaac, God says, “Abraham, Abraham.” When God encourages Jacob to take the trip to Egypt in his old age, God says, “Jacob, Jacob.” When Moses was called to free his people: “Moses, Moses.” And when God calls Samuel in the middle of the night, “Samuel, Samuel.” We also have Jesus’ cry of desperation from the cross, “My God, my God.” In each case the names are repeated for intimacy’s sake, strongly implying: “I know you.” 

So when Jesus asks the question, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and then do not do what I say?” it seems like maybe he was trying to say, “Why do you act like we are close, why do you pretend to have this deep relationship with me and then do not do what I say?” This was a question for those who claimed to follow Christ yet whose actions showed differently or at least did not go far enough. 

From Salvation to Spiritual Formation 

This is also reinforced by Jesus choosing the name “Lord” to refer to himself. It is theologically significant. The title “Lord” refers to someone who has dominion, control, and influence over others. For someone to call Jesus “Lord” implies that Jesus has dominion, control, and influence over his or her life; that one has surrendered wholly to him. In other words, the title of Jesus as “Lord” needs to be more than a word on our tongue because calling him “Lord” only and without doing what he says doesn’t make him so in our lives.  

This is one of the most critical and consequential lessons for our faith: God is not only concerned about our salvation but also about our formation and wellbeing. Of course, one must confess Jesus as Lord and Savior, but then this confession must also be followed by doing what Jesus says. His lordship is not only for confessing what is right but for living rightly. Jesus is basically saying: “You got me right, I am ‘Lord, Lord.’ You believe and confess right. But, come on, now you have to live up to it!” The confessing is for our salvation, but the following is for our formation (sanctification) and accomplishing God’s mission.  

One of the main struggles of the church is believing and doing. To talk about the impact of a theology of transformative mission in the life of the church – public and private – is to challenge our understanding of what it means to be in mission not just for the sake of salvation (believing/confessing right) but for the sake of transformation (living/doing right).  

It is a critical concept. Many churches seem to be mostly concerned about the salvation of people, and because of this, they struggle to be relevant to the everyday needs of their secular community. One may argue, “but isn’t salvation the most important aspect of our mission?” It is, indeed, but by looking at Jesus, we learn that he was also fully engaged in meeting the needs of all people whether they care about his message or not. What he said and did were one and the same thing. His speech and deeds were congruent. 

The question to ask is this: is the church called to be and do more than salvation? In the next post, we will explore the purpose of the church in relation to its mission. 

 

 

Bibliography. 

Addison, Steve. Pioneering Movements: Leadership That Multiplies Disciples and Churches. IVP Books, 2015. Kindle. 

Branson, Mark and Martinez, Juan F. Churches, Cultures and Leadership: A Practical Theology of Congregations and Ethnicities. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2001. Kindle. 

Breen, Mike. Leading Kingdom Movements: The “Everyman” Notebook on How to Change the World. 3DM, 2013. Kindle. 

Newbigin, Lesslie. The Open Secret: An Introduction to the Theology of Mission. Revised Ed. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995. Kindle. 

Newbigin, Lesslie. Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1991. Print. 

Okesson, Greg. “Why Public Theology (PPT-Class).” 2017: n. pag. Print. 

Seamands, Stephen. Ministry in the Image of God: The Trinitarian Shape of Christian Service. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2005. Kindle. 

Seamands, Stephen. “Trinity Ministry (PPT-Class).” 2017: n. pag. Print. 

Volf, Miroslav. A Public Faith: How Followers of Christ Should Serve the Common Good. Brazos Press, 2011. Kindle. 

Wright, Chris. The Mission of God’s People: A Biblical Theology of the Church’s Mission. Zondervan, 2010. Kindle. 

 

 

I recently spoke with a young woman who was thinking about leaving the Christian university she was attending. She was on fire for God and wanted to preach the gospel, but had been told that she couldn’t preach because she was a woman. Although the university where I teach affirms women in all areas of ministry, it’s striking to me how many Christian universities and denominations still maintain a culture of hierarchy. Even though The United Methodist Church has been ordaining women for 60 years (and John Wesley himself licensed Sarah Crosby to preach as far back as 1761), many of the people sitting in our congregations come from different denominations, and some may never have heard a female preacher or seen a woman in a key leadership role. It’s important to help our congregations remember the long history of faithful women who have preached the gospel. For that reason, I offer the following list of just a few of the influential female leaders in biblical literature.

The Daughters of Zelophehad (Num 26:33; 27:1-11; 36:1-12; Josh 17:3-6). Although this story provides one of the more obscure testimonies in Scripture, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah left their mark on the people of Israel. When their father died without a son, the family inheritance was endangered, since women did not have inheritance rights in ancient Hebrew culture. These women boldly appeared before Moses and the leaders of Israel and asked to keep their father’s inheritance. God decreed that “the daughters of Zelophehad are right in what they are saying,” and thus they were responsible for changing inheritance laws in Israel. They saw an injustice and boldly stepped forward to correct it.

Deborah (Judg 4:4-5:31). Both a prophet and a judge — which in this time period meant a charismatic ruler and military leader — Deborah regularly arbitrated disputes among the Israelites. Her role as a leader in Israel is stated as a matter of fact before the story even takes us into the battle that she leads with Barak to defeat the army of the Canaanites. The mighty Barak knows that it will be a difficult battle to face Sisera and his armed chariots, so he refuses to go unless the woman of God comes with him, assuring him that God goes into battle for the Israelites.

The Samaritan Woman at the Well (John 4:1-42). Jesus’s conversation with this woman is the longest dialogue recorded in the Gospels. She picks a theological fight with Jesus about Samaritan and Jewish understandings of the Messiah, but ultimately she recognizes who Jesus is. She then preaches to her whole village that Messiah has arrived — and they believe.

Rahab (Josh 2:1-24; 6:17-25; Matt 1:5; Heb 11:31; Jas 2:25). This crafty, fearless, resourceful woman is willing to betray her own people because she knows that the Israelite God “is indeed God in heaven above and on earth below” (Josh 2:11). She hides the Israelite spies and as a result, saves her family from destruction. Despite her unsavory profession, she is commended on three separate occasions in the NT as a paradigm of faith.

Phoebe (Rom 16:1-2). Paul calls Phoebe a deacon, the same term he uses for himself and others (including Apollos and Epaphras) who preach and teach in the church. She was a wealthy benefactor who carried Paul’s letter to the Romans. As a leader in the church, affirmed by Paul, she had the authority to speak on Paul’s behalf to answer any questions the Romans had in response to his letter.

Priscilla/Prisca (Acts 18:2-3, 18-19, 24-26; Rom 16:3-5; 1 Cor 16:19; 2 Tim 4:19). She and her husband, Aquila, served churches in Corinth, Ephesus, and Rome. The two were tentmakers like Paul, and so they worked together on their trade and in the church. Paul calls them coworkers with him in the gospel. Priscilla likely had a higher status in the church than her husband, since her name is listed first more often than her husband’s. They knew the gospel well — so well, in fact, that when the intelligent and persuasive Apollos came to Corinth with an excellent but limited understanding of the gospel, Priscilla and Aquila “explained the way of God to him more accurately” (Acts 18:26).

Ruth (Ruth; Matt 1:5). This foreigner provides a shining example of God’s loving-kindness. After her Judean husband dies, Ruth leaves her home in Moab and travels back to Bethlehem with her mother-in-law, despite the prospects of poverty and insecurity that lay ahead of her. Ruth pledges loyalty to Naomi and her God. She works hard gleaning in the field to provide for herself and Naomi (potentially dangerous work, since she has no male protector), and boldly approaches Boaz with a marriage proposal. He also models integrity and loyalty, addressing the proper customs so that he can redeem this unusual family. Each of the key characters in this story (Ruth, Naomi, and Boaz) place the interests of the other ahead of their own, and thus they model Christ-like faith centuries before their descendant, Jesus, enters the scene.

Since Scripture presents so many shining examples of female leadership, I will continue this list in my next post. Even then, I won’t be able to include all of the stories. The bravery, chutzpah, faithfulness, love, and kindness of these women remind us that leadership in the kingdom of God comes in many forms, if only we have eyes to see.

 

Reprinted with permission from www.catalystresources.org.

 

Jesus taught that if, when offering a gift to God at the altar, you remember a brother or sister has something against you, you should go and be reconciled and then return to offer your gift (Matt. 5:24). I get the impression that reconciliation is the gift God intends to give the worshipper—even before a gift has been brought to God.

Reconciliation is a complex subject because it involves three contexts: the offended, the offender, and the previous (or ongoing) relationship between the two. And reconciliation is so serious that if reconciliation is not forthcoming between two parties in the church, Jesus offered the resources of the family of faith and even his very presence to help (Matt. 18:15-20). Reconciliation is so important that Jesus put responsibility on both the offended (Matt. 18:15: “If your brother or sister sins,” with some manuscripts adding “against you”) and the offender (Matt. 5:23: “your brother or sister has something against you”) to seek reconciliation.

Is there a greater witness to the power of God than reconciliation? In an age of fast and loose friendship, of digital unfriending where one can “friend” without befriending, and when political candidates caused rifts between previously functional families and long-time friends, could a more courageous practice than reconciliation be imagined? As a Wesleyan, my hope in the ability of God to reconcile even the hardest of situations remains high; furthermore, as a Wesleyan, my appreciation for wisdom and practical theology runs deep. Reconciliation brings together hope and wisdom like no other challenge because reconciliation can take hard work and sometimes only happens over time.

“Build the wall!” Perhaps the most memorable phrase of the 2016 election, it captured and made concrete the policy desire to increase border security and immigration regulation. It captured the imagination not only because it rolled much more easily off the tongue than typical policy speak, but also because it is something that each of us has been tempted to do: build walls in our own personal relationships. For our own emotional safety, we have constructed walls between ourselves and another and tightened regulations about when and how the other can (re-)enter our lives. But how do we connect this kind of personal “border security” with the call to be reconciled? How do we have boundaries while maintaining openness to be reconciled? OK. Let’s put away the political connotations for a bit. Let’s overlap this metaphor with a framework of forgiveness to see how it might help us understand boundaries and reconciliation.  

Three Kinds of Forgiveness 

Steve Sandage describes three different kinds of forgiveness1:  

• Legal forgiveness: this forgiveness is an act of the will, allowing another to forego punishment. Sandage notes that in couples’ therapy, legal forgiveness might be a commitment to “bite one’s tongue”—not to respond with hostility or to be aggressive in arguing one’s side at every opportunity.  
• Therapeutic forgiveness: Whereas legal forgiveness can be done instantly—and might be needed in an instant!—therapeutic forgiveness takes time. This is a place of healing for the offended. Without excusing the offense, the offended sees the offender in a new light and starts to bear empathy toward the offender’s own self and story. In this empathy and reconsideration of one’s story, there is healing. 
• Redemptive forgiveness: This is the aim of the previous approaches to forgiveness. The full expression of forgiveness is reconciliation and redemption, so that God may transform our relationships not only with God but with each other. 

Personal Boundaries 

Before placing each category of forgiveness into the wall metaphor, let’s consider boundaries. We all have boundaries—invisible and visible lines inside of which we are safe and at ease. Some boundaries are very easy to identify. Skin is a physical boundary, so if you break my skin and I’m okay with it, then it’s likely that you’re a surgeon, nurse, or phlebotomist. (I don’t have a tattoo and don’t plan on getting one.)  

Other boundaries are harder to determine and may be relative. Some people hug everyone, some people hug only a few, and some people don’t hug. Time boundaries are also relative. For example, it likely depends on your relationship for how long a person might spend at your house and not cross your boundaries. My mom has a phrase: “Fish and visitors stink after three days.” My guess is that if you’ve been a guest in my parents’ house and stayed longer than three days, then you’re either a really good friend or you’ve never been invited back.  

We also have emotional boundaries. When another makes fun of something precious to our lives, overextends their help in a way that feels demeaning, or takes from us without asking, our emotional boundaries are crossed.  

When boundaries are crossed, there is usually pain, but sometimes pleasure. Boundaries can be broached in ways that are exciting or comforting, such as when another extends into the beloved’s space to embrace or kiss or when deep knowledge of a person is used not to abuse, but to serve. For our purposes, I want to focus on when boundaries are crossed and there is discomfort and pain. 

Boundaries should get marked definitively when there is pain at their crossing. A boundary might get marked by saying, “That makes me uncomfortable,” “That hurts my feelings,” or simply, “No.” Unfortunately, sometimes we do not mark boundaries and the offending person might continue to trespass boundaries without awareness or without care. When the unaware offender realizes there is a boundary, they might respect the boundary, but when the apathetic offender realizes there is a boundary, they will continue to break it over and over again. In these times, we must build a wall. Boundaries that will not be respected must be protected.

But just what kind of wall is built matters a great deal. Some walls (figuratively) are built with razor wire, spikes, armed turrets, and alligator-lined moats. These walls are dangerous. They are meant to be dangerous. They mark boundaries and warn the trespasser not to approach them—ever. They are weaponized walls: what was supposed to protect will be used to attack if given the chance.  

Other walls are built with no less strength but are simply defensive. Rather than being lined with razor wire, they are lined with padding on the outside. When the offender comes close to the offended, they are not injured, but neither can they broach the wall. An attitude that seeks not to escalate ongoing conflict and not to react aggressively at any opportunity builds the padded wall.  

Legal Forgiveness 

Legal forgiveness is the padded wall. An attitude of legal forgiveness does not pretend that there is a functional relationship, but neither does it perpetuate the conflict. Legal forgiveness has marked boundaries and judged that what happened was wrong, but does not seek to attack given the opportunity. 

Let’s put this back in Jesus’ teaching. Suppose you are the offended person who has built a wall. What might the offender find if they have left their gift at the altar to be reconciled to you? Will they be impaled on spikes? Nipped by the released hounds? Will the wall that is constructed become your weapon to inflict pain on them? It’s only a matter of time in life before any person needs to approach another for forgiveness and wonders what reception might be waiting for them.  

Therapeutic Forgiveness 

But why build walls at all? Like a surgeon cutting the same incision over and over again, when boundaries continue to be trespassed, there cannot be healing. When there are no walls and the wrong, unwanted, and/or misguided crossing of boundaries continues without correction, then forgiveness is simply not the right action. There can be no meaningful forgiveness in the midst of intentional, ongoing injustice.2 This is not to say that the offended, who in the case of ongoing injustice is powerless to achieve change, must harbor bitterness, angst, and frustration. It is only to say that that kind of grace and freedom is best described as gracious suffering, not forgiveness. The offended may be afforded a kind of emotional peace by God in the midst of ongoing injustice, but forgiveness is not the appropriate action.3

So, why build walls? We build walls on our boundaries in order to allow for healing. Walls built with legal forgiveness allow for therapeutic healing to happen behind them. They are meant to stop the offense so that the offended may recover, heal, and grow without worry that the offenses are going to continue unchecked. 

Redemptive Forgiveness 

Redemptive forgiveness recognizes that there is still ongoing work and opportunity even when boundaries are marked and healing has taken place. Forgiveness where injustice has ceased and therapeutic healing is taking place might still lead to reconciliation. Once there is healing, made possible by the wall, redemptive forgiveness allows for the crossing of boundaries once again, but with safety and security. 

Let’s go back to Jesus’ command to leave our offering gift. The person who has left their gift at the altar and has encountered a padded wall now knows that a wall exists around the other person. Behind the padded wall, there is therapeutic healing taking place. Whether or not the time is right to access the door in the wall is unknown to the offender. Yet both offended and offender is called to aim at reconciliation. Again, whether or not reconciliation is possible in this life is very complex (and beyond the scope of one blog to address). But if both the offended and offender believe that following Jesus’ teaching is possible, then they must be aimed at reconciliation. This is redemptive forgiveness: doors and windows are added and walls may even be removed over time. The removal of the wall does not mean that boundaries no longer exist, but that a relationship may be marked by such safety, security, and trust that marking the boundaries with walls is no longer necessary. Redemptive forgiveness aims at the removal of walls, though it may start by opening doors and establishing guidelines for coming through the walls. 

Conclusion 

My first home left quite a bit to be desired—including central heat and about 200 square feet of exposed block in the basement. Given that I lived in Canada, building a wall to insulate the exposed block was one of my first projects. But I had never built a wall before. It remained daunting and mysterious to me—even with YouTube’s tutorials. Luckily, I had a willing and talented friend to help me frame and insulate a wall. The job was completed faster and better than it would have been on my own. 

I think that’s how the walls we’ve talked about above are to be built: with the help of a friend. Unlike physical walls, it is sometimes easier to construct emotional walls on our own. Building walls with a friend helps keep us accountable to crafting the walls not as weapons but as protections. Friends help us make sure that walls mark our boundaries and don’t unnecessarily expand them. Friends who help us build walls can be given permission to see that there is healing work happening behind them.  

 

1 Steven J Sandage and F. LeRon Shults, Faces of Forgiveness: Searching for Wholeness and Salvation; (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), especially Introduction and Section 1. While Sandage has deepened and modified some of the following, this thought is rooted in his taxonomy.

2 This is not to deny what peacemaking experts like Ken Sande might call “overlooking.” Healthy people can overlook an offense out of a sense of security and self. This ought not to be an ongoing action. Overlooking offenses is only possible by people with differentiated selves — people who have boundaries and know what they are. Overlooking the same offense either slips into a denial of the offense or is an indication that a person lacks a self and the ability to overlook an offense. In the latter case, they are not overlooking, but possibly being victimized or subjecting themselves to offense complicitly.

3 I owe part of this line of thinking to Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans).

 

If I agree that the gifts described in Ephesians 4:11 emphasize living outside of the church’s internal life, I must accept responsibility for my gifting. What does this text say?

“The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.” (Ephesians 4:11-13 New Revised Standard Version) 

If gifted as an apostle, I acknowledge that God sends me. If gifted as a prophet, I boldly and unapologetically proclaim the will of God. As an evangelist, I spread the good news, as a pastor I minister to and protect the congregation, and as a teacher I serve as an instructor of the Christian life.

With my acceptance of that responsibility, I must be sure that I carry out my work in such a way that I am equipping other followers of Christ for the work of the ministry, since we are responsible for building up the global church until all of us come to the unity of the faith. These gifts, whichever you may possess, open up the opportunity to move the body of Christ to a place of unity, emphasizing a continual, dynamic relatedness of diverse peoples – to work toward moving the whole congregation toward intercultural life. 

There are desires for the worship on Sunday to reflect the residents of countless communities, for our communities of faith to become more culturally diverse. Does the average faith community understand the implications of such a racial shift? Does the average faith community understand that this move is about becoming an agent of racial reconciliation and authentic diversity? Are whole congregations willing to pursue intercultural life? And how would this intercultural life be authentic and not just visible in the community?

For one thing, such a shift requires an ongoing commitment to diversity in worship and understanding that other people’s experience and response to the Holy Spirit in worship may be different. For another, congregations must be willing to discuss openly the pain of racism that persists in America. There must be acknowledgment of the ever-changing nature of the church, relationships and contexts; calls for real engagement and mutuality; and attention to narratives of large and small similarities and differences (Branson & Martinez, 2011). Ultimately, it takes action to bridge the divide, which will prayerfully propel us to authentic community. 

If intercultural life is to be authentic, then whether you are called as an apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastor, or teacher, each of us must perform responsibilities in such a way that the congregation understands these implications and benefits. As a congregation, people of faith must hear and validate the narratives of every individual’s ethnic heritage and those of the surrounding cultures in our community to understand better our identity and our responsibility in the world (Branson & Martinez, 2011).  

While leading the migration toward social reconciliation across cultural barriers, the focus is not solely on demographic data but encompasses discerning and moving toward unique ways of unity and diversity. Congregations should look at the gifts diversity brings. Cultural diversity within a community of faith can be found within the unique heritage of those who gather together. Many Anglo congregations have members, regular attenders, and casual seekers from Europe, Asia, South American, Africa, and the Caribbean; however, these influences play silently in the background to a Euro/Caucasian American experience. The challenge that we face and are working to overcome is to allow these influences to be a visible part of our experiences together. 

While there is no clear map toward goals of shared intercultural life, attitudes and convictions must continue to drive the congregation toward completing the work necessary to understand our unique gifts, celebrate our diversity and stay the course toward becoming a multiethnic church, allowing our various ethnic and cultural backgrounds to come together to form an authentic congregation (Branson & Martinez, 2011).  

 

 

Sources: 

Branson, M. L., & Martinez, J. F. (2011). Churches Cultures & Leadership: A Practical Theology of Congregations and Ethnicities. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press. 

United States Census Bureau. (2014). American Fact Finder. Retrieved February 3, 2015, from http://factfinder.census.gov/faces/tableservices 

 

Leadership is a critical key to the success of an organization. John Maxwell explains, “Everything rises and falls on leadership…leadership determines the success of the organization.”  

If leadership is a key for an organization to thrive, Christian leadership is essential for the works of Christ being accomplished in the church and world. Thus, the essence of Christian leadership is its focus on what God is doing in the world and joining alongside to accomplish it together. 

As Christians, why do we want to become leaders of the church or any other settings? What is it that we are trying to accomplish? What is the motivation of our hearts to lead? 

The apostle Paul answers these questions in theological and practical terms. Everything he did was for the sake of the gospel with the goal of telling and sharing the story of Jesus Christ, and making disciples of those that decided to follow Jesus. He had a clear goal: “I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings” (1 Cor. 9:23) and “I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (2:2).  

Hence, when we talk about Christian leaders, we are stating that they are Christians from core to crust and that their motivation to lead and serve comes from their Christian character. While leaders, in general, may have diverse reasons to lead, the essence of Christian leadership is modeling Christlikeness (living, acting, and interacting as Jesus did) and accomplishing God’s mission: the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. A Christian leader ought to lead for the sake of Christ’s love and God’s mission and not personal ambition. 

From here, the integrity of Christian leadership is measured by the commitment a Christian leader has to Christ and the mission of God since Christian leaders are specifically called and entrusted to be stewards of the church and God’s mission. 

I used to believe that good Christian leaders were the most charismatic, skillful, and influential people in our midst. Although these characteristics are not self-excluding of good leaders, they are not enough nor are they the main rule of Christian leadership. It took me a little while to discern that to identify good Christian leaders one must look beyond what is apparent and pay attention to the integrity of their character: what’s in the heart. 

Henry Nouwen shares a story in his book Spiritual Formation to speak to the notion of recognizing what is in the heart: 

A little boy was watching a sculptor work. For weeks this sculptor kept on chipping away at a big block of marble. After a few weeks, he had created a beautiful marble lion. The little boy was amazed and said: “Mister, how did you know there was a lion in the rock?”  

He explains this story this way, “Long before [the sculptor] forms the marble, he must know the lion. The sculptor must know the lion by heart to see him in the rock. The secret of the sculptor is that what he knows by heart he can recognize in the marble. A sculptor who knows an angel by heart will see an angel in the marble…What do you know by heart?” 

This is a daring and uncomfortable question for all Christian leaders: What do we know by heart? According to Nouwen, the answer is revealed in what we project and impress into others, in the trails we leave behind every way we go, what we are able to see in them even when nobody else does.  

Christian leaders must see in everyone the possibility of them becoming Christ-followers too. To put it bluntly: are more people loving God and following Jesus because they crossed paths with us, Christian leaders? Are the people around us committing to Christ because of our witness to them?  

If we take this assessment, then to recognize the integrity of a Christian leader one must pay attention to how they minister and serve others, and what kind of impact and legacy they leave in people’s lives. One can fool others with eloquent rhetoric and impressive, charismatic skills, but investing in the wellness, healing, and salvation of others requires a deep sense of commitment to God and Christ’s gospel.

Christian leadership is not a synonym of being ahead or on top above everyone else, but it is about the emptying of ourself for the sake of the other.  

As a pastor and Christ-follower, I pray for everyone to love and follow Christ, and then be moved to serve and be in ministry alongside God too until Christ comes back in final victory. 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited 

Maxwell, John C. The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership: Follow Them and People Will Follow You. Nashville: Nelson, 1998. 

Nouwen, Henri J. M. Spiritual Formation: Following the Movements of the Spirit. HarperCollins, 2010. 

When we think about the story of Creation in the Christian faith, we typically do it within the context of Genesis, the story of the past and how things came to be. One may think this creating process was settled at the beginning of time, and that God transitioned from being an entrepreneur to a manager, or worse, a mere aloof supervisor.  

However, if we pay close attention to the backdrop of the biblical narrative, we find a God who is actively engaged with Creation, with the people, and progressively constructing new realities. These realities are singular and communal stories, our callings, the reasons for which we exist. In other words, God continues to create for us and through us, making us participants in the not-yet-settled continuity of creating.  

As it is in God’s character to be actively creating new things, we were given the ability to do likewise. Thus, we lose meaning and purpose when there are no more goals to be achieved or finish lines to cross. And what comes next is the tragedy of settling, reducing, and subjugating the passion in our blood and soul for the new. Our dreams dwindle and we tell ourselves “I am done,” becoming a mere memory of the past, of the “good years,” with no more to look after, for life has turned into a duty rather than a journey, like a great movie that leaves you with an eager expectation of what “comes next” but there are no sequels. It just ends without ending. 

How does this relate to continuing education? Well, the pun is well-intended.  

As a person, I have always had curiosity and hunger for the new. I was never afraid of exploring possibilities for my life. I could tell many stories of the types of jobs I had in my teenage years, the wide array of people I have met, and the precious life lessons I have learned. I was not aware of this until I was an adult and reflected on my journey of life and faith. Of course, we all are different, each one with unique personalities, preferences, and characters traits, but if there is one thing I can share that I believe can make a difference in others regardless of how similar or different we may be, it is the power of education.  

How could my curiosity or hunger for life have made any difference if I had not at the same time pursued my education? We can spend our whole lives knocking on doors, but until we realize that it is our education that has a vast power to open them, we may never experience the fullness of why we exist. 

A great danger in life is as I mentioned before “settling.” This can also be understood as plateauing, becoming a flat line with no pulse.  

In Immunity to Change Kegan and Lahey share their life-long journey of studying and testing their thesis of how the adult brain can evolve in how one perceives the world and acts in it. They talk about the common problem of “plateaus in adult mental development” and how as we grow older we not only resist change but also lose any interest in it (by “change” I mean new learning, aspirations, and new or updated life-goals). The majority of adult people function in these plateaus, a sort of outdated mental pattern, and have given up on all desire to learn new things.  

Continuing education has the power to awaken us and recreate in us new ways to pursue and find meaning in life.  

What will distinguish your leadership from others’ in the years ahead? Your ability to continuing developing yourself. 

In my personal life experience, I have learned that I could not be where I am now if I had stopped pursuing learning. Because of this realization I know now that I must never stop learning, growing, and being transformed in and through the development of new abilities; I must feed my mind with new and fresh ideas, especially if they challenge assumptions and behavioral patterns that have not led me to anything new in my life and ministry; and conformity is not a strength necessarily, but a dull and fruitless waste of creativity and talent.  

I am a 35-year-old husband, dad of two, a pastor with 13 years of serving churches, and a student of life and church. When I was 15 years old, I thought “this is life!” Then, in my early 20’s I thought, “now, this is life!” But then again in my 30’s, although at the time those earlier memories felt they were “it,”, I now feel again that my life has just begun, and I want to be excited, intrigued, and challenged for what still lies ahead. 

If you are a pastor too, a leader in the church, we share a responsibility to expand our minds and renew our faith, for the continuity of God’s work in us is, in many ways, contingent upon our mental, spiritual, and emotional development. 

The ever-changing world demands an ever-adapting leader who not only looks ahead but also leads into the future by being well-informed of the past and present, and with an imagination for the future. This is a constant pursuing of the calling of God into new ventures as we move on in life and as the world moves on and reshapes itself around us. The challenges and opportunities of ministry can’t be met by settling down in our learning. Indeed, the nature of the Christian faith is to be an organic one, an ever-growing and moving creature, and not a relic.  

Jesus said, “My Father is still working, and I also am working.” (Jn. 5:17) 

Could it be that God has not finished creating you and that this continuing creating process includes new learning, revelations, strengths, and dreams? Perhaps God’s idea of sanctifying us includes nurturing our brains with new and better ideas. 

Let’s be students for life.  

Amen. 

 

Rev. Edgar Bazan is pursuing a Doctorate of Ministry from Asbury Theological Seminary.