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N o one in Bali calls the Protestant Christian Church by its given name. This collection

of churches strategically planted around the island is known simply as The Mango Tree Church. And their commitment to live out the gospel while being true to the culture where God has placed them is evident even in their physical church structures. While churches in most Third World countries tend to look like their Western counterparts, the Mango Tree Church builds open-air sanctuaries resembling mountains. I am told the Balinese associate God, the source of life, with the maj-esty of the mountain. A temple gate in front of the church tells all who walk by that this is a place of worship. And inside, their sanctuaries preach sermons in wood and stone, using Balinese art forms revered by islanders for hundreds of years.

The church I visited features an ornate, floor-to-ceiling stone carving behind the Communion table. In its center, a vivid red medallion picturing an island boat floating on an ocean of mango leaves makes a powerful statement—this is a church sure of their identity as Balinese and as Christians.

The pastor explains that this exquisite art piece, styled as a traditional temple gate, symbolizes coming into God’s

presence. The cross in the middle shows that Jesus is the way to God. I notice the cross is bent at the bottom, as if marching.

“We call it the crooked cross,” says the pastor. “The Mango Tree Church believes that the cross, as the symbol of the work of Christ, is never still. It is always moving, just as we should be.”

I would later learn this was not just a pleasant-sounding phrase, but the dynamic that drives this church.

Walking around the sanctuary, I had the sense of being both on holy ground and in an art museum celebrating the best of Bali culture. It’s not an accidental pairing. Reaching the people of Bali for Christ by communicating the gospel through Balinese symbols, images, and art has been a lifetime passion of Bishop I. Wayan Mastra.

I recently had the privilege of interviewing the bishop in Bali. He is a quiet man with kind eyes and a gentle spirit. We met in a cabana-style lobby, surrounded by intricate wood carvings, flowers, and exotic birds. The ocean is just a walk away. These surroundings evoke a sense of opulence—not necessarily material, but of natural abundance and beauty unique to Bali. The influence of this setting in the design of

theBishop and theMangoTree

The Protestant Christian Church in Bali finds purpose and mission

in its island identity

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the church I visited earlier is obvious. And that, according to Bishop Mastra, is exactly as it should be.

Since the 1950s, Mastra has been the driving force behind the Protestant Christian Church in Bali. Under his leadership, the Mango Tree Church has become a model of indigenous church growth by embracing its island identity and culture. It was Mastra who developed a ministry plan for empowering the people of Bali to evangelize their own people through local resources.

Born into a Hindu family, Mastra was the first person in his village to attend college. After a dramatic conversion while a student at the Christian Teacher Training College in Surabaya, Mastra returned home to teach and minister. But he was dis-turbed by his country’s wide-spread poverty and lack of edu-cation. He thought of God’s words to Abraham: “I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great; and you shall be a blessing” (Gen. 12:2). This verse challenged him to believe that Bali, Indonesia, was destined to bless the nations of the world. He began preach-ing this message from the pulpit. But his views met resistance from his own people. The con-gregation felt they had nothing to offer.

“The people in my congre-gation were poor, and they had a poor person’s mentality,” Mastra says. “That had to change before we could hope to change our country.” But he himself had not clearly defined how to bring these changes about. Then Mastra had the opportunity to study in Asia, the U.S., and Europe, earning both a master’s and a doctorate in theology. With a widened worldview, he gained a better understanding of the barriers that kept his people from experiencing God’s blessing in their lives.

The barrier in Bali, Mastra explains, was rooted in its history. Though Indonesia was under Dutch colonial rule from the early 1700s until the 1940s, treacherous coral reefs protected Bali from most external influences. However, it also permitted the Dutch policy of keeping the Balinese uned-ucated to go unchallenged. The lack of education, combined

with the Hindu caste system, created a centuries-old mind-set where the possibility of bettering one’s position in life seemed impossible.

While isolation kept Bali staunchly Hindu as most of the neighboring islands became Islamic, other faiths were also excluded. Not a single Christian lived on the island until 1930. A year later, a small community of 100 believers had sprung up. But these Christians were persecuted and ostra-cized. Denied water for their crops, they struggled for survival and found comfort in the theology of poverty

taught by the church. Because in their experience to live as a Christian had resulted in cata-strophic material loss, Christians erroneously concluded that only the poor could be believ-ers. By the time intense perse-cution ceased, poverty as a life-style was well entrenched.

As Mastra began to make connections between Bali’s polit-ical-religious history and the Christian faith, two convictions emerged. If Balinese Christians were to live out God’s call to be a blessing to the world, they would have to begin by receiv-ing God’s blessing in their own lives, something they could not do without a biblical view of themselves. This meant accept-ing that they had value—both as individuals and as Balinese. Mastra saw the celebration of Bali’s culture through the arts as a way to express that biblical view and to connect with the community. Secondly, Mastra believed that being a blessing to

others meant addressing all aspects of a person’s life—mind, body, and soul. He felt the church should be leading the way in educational and social initiatives that would change peo-ple’s lives in all three dimensions. Mastra’s views were revo-lutionary to Christians who had been programmed to deny their culture and accept a low station in life.

Because the Balinese culture and the Hindu religion were so entwined, the church taught that anything cultural was automatically anti-Christian—even evil. Mastra had grappled with the relationship between faith and culture in his doc-toral thesis. But not until he had the opportunity to live in

theBishop and theMangoTree

The Protestant Christian Church in Bali finds purpose and mission

in its island identity

The altar, styled like a traditional temple gate, symbolizes worshippers’ entrance into God’s presence.

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Europe for three months did the pieces fall together for him. He visited museums and cathedrals, enthralled by the beauty of both. In the Aquinas Institute School of Theology, the Catholic seminary where he received his doctorate, he’d experienced the power of symbols and rituals to convey the truth of scripture. Mastra saw the language of the church in a new light.

He was fascinated by the way Europeans had adapted Christianity’s Middle Eastern culture into their own through the arts. Whereas the Jewish Mary and Jesus likely had dark hair and eyes, the Madonna and Child of Europe’s master painters were blond and blue-eyed. He also observed how what were once pagan symbols were transformed into mean-ingful icons embraced by European Christians.

“At one time, the tree was worshipped by Germans,” Mastra says. “As one of Germany’s most plentiful resources, its wood provided shelter and fuel that kept them alive in the cold winters. When Christianity came, the tree—which was so important to their everyday lives—was not discarded by their culture; it was redeemed.” The German “tannenbaum” eventually became the Christmas tree, an international sym-bol of the season of Christ’s birth.

With a growing awareness of how European Christians translated the gospel into the language of their culture, Mastra began to wonder, “If Europe can do it, why can’t Bali do the same?” Mastra concluded that it was not only reasonable to redeem culturally significant icons for the Christian faith, it was important to do so. This revelation, though years in the

making, profoundly impacted Mastra’s approach to ministry.Mastra had often asked himself, “Why is the church so

barren?” He looked around at the mango trees so abundant on Bali. They were mature and healthy, with an overflow of nutrients that produced the sweet, delightful mangos the island was known for.

The thriving mango tree, he realized, was a picture of what the church in Bali was to be. John 15:16 says, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you, that you go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide.” From this passage, Mastra developed what would become the founda-tion of his church theology.

“Fruit has three purposes,” he says. “First, to be a witness, because the tree is known by its fruit. Second, to be a blessing, because the fruit has meat that can be eaten to give health, strength, and life. Third, to be the seed for new life, because each fruit has a seed that can be planted to bring forth new trees.”

Mastra observed that trees produce the most delicious fruit in their own native soil and environment. “If you try to grow a tree in an area unsuited to it, it must be put in a pot in a green house, watered, and fertilized,” he says. “It will grow like a ‘bonsai,’ a dwarf, potted tree that needs constant care but bears no fruit.”

Left & Above: Celebrating Christ with traditional Balinese arts is at the heart of Bishop Mastra’s passion to bring revival to the local church.

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Unfortunately, the church in Bali resembled the “bonsai” more than the mango tree. Mastra felt called to change that.

In 1971, Mastra returned home permanently from stud-ies and travels abroad, excited about the concept of a church with its own identity and locality. The following year, after being elected bishop of the Protestant Christian Church, Mastra began the intentional process of adapting the gospel to the Balinese culture, using the symbols and art forms that already had meaning to his people.

“The stories of the Bible come alive when they are told in the language of the culture,” he says. “In John 15 Jesus says, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches ....’ Bali has no vines, but we do have mango trees. So we explain the principle of abid-ing in Christ by using the mango tree, because it’s something the people understand.”

Whereas once the church had been reluctant to allow such adaptations, today they miss no opportunity to present Christ within the context of the Balinese culture. Before meeting with Bishop Mastra, I attended a din-ner hosted by the Mango Tree Church. Instead of a resort hotel dining hall, the church chose an outdoor Balinese venue for the event and served scrumptious traditional foods. Later a bright-ly arrayed gamelan orchestra played as young women dressed in ornate costumes of pinks, greens, and golds danced for us. Given their stunning beauty, I assumed the troupe was profes-sional. I later learned the perform-ers were part of the arts academy established by the church that trains people in all art forms. This troupe was from the dance school, which serves as both an outreach in the community and a ministry of the church.

The dancers’ costumes and movements suggested those of exotic birds, their headdresses resembling feathers and their capes like wings. The bishop confirmed this, explain-ing, “It’s a traditional Balinese dance called the Bird Dance. When the young women perform it in church, we read the scripture from Luke 12 where we are told to consider the ravens. They do not sow or reap...but God feeds them. We

use the dance to illustrate the message that we are to live without worry.”

As Bishop Mastra speaks, I realize the dance is more than an illustration. It is fruit—the expression of a church that now knows it has much to share.

Today the Mango Tree Church has over 70 congregations. They are not poor. And they are breaking the cycle of pov-erty on their island with a host of creative projects. Their Dhyana Pura Foundation developed a hotel that operates as a Christian retreat center a couple of months a year and as a resort the remaining months. Because tourism is a major

industry in Bali, the church started a school to train hotel personnel. The school alone has greatly impacted the standard of living for locals who develop skills needed by the large resorts. The school now offers a bach-elor degree program in hotel management and has an inter-national student body of over 2,000.

Income from the hotel and school provides support for the church, supplements pastor and missionary salaries, and funds many educational projects. The Mango Tree Church also offers a variety of community based programs to help people become self-supporting, including a bank, small business develop-ment program, and land stew-ardship project.

A common saying in the Mango Tree Church is, “Bali is my body and Christ is my life.”

Mastra says, “We are embed-ded deep in our own local cul-ture and environment by Christ

who is the inspiration for our existence.” The Mango Tree Church is busy serving Christ, who is their passion, through the unique and beautiful Balinese body God has given them. And like the mango trees that grace their island, their fruit is abundant. ■

Karen Moderow is a freelance writer living in Big Canoe, Ga.Photos courtesy of Billy Grimes of the Haggai Institute (haggai-institute.com).

Bishop I. Wayan Mastra: “We are embedded deep in our own local culture and environment by Christ

who is the inspiration for our existence.”

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While women weep as they do now, I’ll fight;while little children go hungry as they do now, I’ll fight;while men go to prison…as they do now, I’ll fight;while there is a poor lost girl upon the streets, I’ll fight;where there yet remains one dark soul without the light of God,I’ll fight— I’ll fight to the very end!

William Booth, Final Public Appearance, May 1912

C.S.Lewiswrote once that we are not as holyas the apostles for the simple reason that we never intendedto be.We cannot become what we have no intention ofbecoming.And it is clearly the case that American churchesdo not serve the poor because they do not intend to.Certainlythere are exceptions, and readers of PRISM are aware of agreat amount of the Christian community development workin the United States.We should be thankful for LutheranSocial Services, for Caritas and the St.Vincent DePaul Society,for the Christian Community Development Association, andthe myriad parachurch agencies that bring Christians togeth-er to serve the poor in Jesus’ name.

But the major denominational service agencies are some-thing other than the denomination itself.They are a specialinterest group within the denomination, just as the para-churchagencies are special interest groups.They are good and theyare needed, but they are not churches doing the work of the

church. In fact, their existence points to the fact that church-es, for the most part, want to outsource their contact withthe poor. So they create entities that can do good Christianthings on behalf of the poor.The local congregations them-selves, however, do not view such engagement with theircommunity’s needs as a constituent part of their identity.

Check out just about any church’s website, and you willfind under the heading “services” a list of worship opportu-nities.Under the heading “ministries” you will discover a hostof programs serving your needs in the areas of children orgrief or handbell ringing. What you will not find, for themost part, is ministry as the New Testament understands it.

One shining exception is the Salvation Army.Some wouldsay,“Wait a minute, that’s not a church, it’s a social serviceagency.” Even those of us who learned at some point that it isa denomination, and not a Christian social service agency, havefailed to ponder the significance of that fact.The SalvationArmy is a church, just like the Methodists and Baptists. It hasministers and educational requirements for ordination andchoirs and Sunday morning worship and Sunday school andhas even had a few church splits in its history—a sign ofgenuine denominational status if ever there was one.

The Army, as it is known, differs from the other denom-inations in only one key respect: It believes that commitmentto the poor in one’s community and in the world is notoptional for a church. That’s it. It is not peopled by betterChristians or smarter Christians or even less contentiousChristians than the rest of our churches. Its distinctive markis not its uniforms but rather the simple fact that it has insti-

What If Every Denomination Were Like the

Salvation Army?A Modest Proposal for Transforming

American Church Life

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seemingly innumerable programs for urban children andyouth, people with AIDS, those needing assistance withfood and utilities and rent, and signature programs like theannual Angel Giving Tree.

What would it look like if all denominations acted as theSalvation Army does? Let’s do the math.The Salvation Armyhas over half a million members in the United States.*You canmultiply the Army’s number of ministries or people served bythe appropriate number for your denomination. For example,if you are a Southern Baptist, multiply by 32 (there are 16million Southern Baptists in the U.S.); if you are UnitedMethodist, multiply by 16.The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)has almost 3.5 million members, so if it were like theSalvation Army, its members would do seven times what theArmy is doing.

Lutherans (ELCA), for example, would multiply thesefigures from the Army by 10,meaning that if they were doingon a per-member basis what the Salvation Army is doing,

they would operate 5,420 group homes and 570 medicalclinics to serve the poor. Further, they would provide holidayassistance to almost 50 million people and help 1 million indi-viduals who are trapped in substance abuse—all this whileconducting the full range of traditional activities more closelyassociated with a Christian church.

The cities of America would be transformed in remark-able ways if every denomination were like the Salvation Army.Every time someone proposes refurbishing Sunday school space,or building a family life center, or going on a youth ski trip, itis an opportunity to speak up on behalf of the poor. Servingthem is not optional in the kingdom of God; it is part of whatmakes it the kingdom of God.We need to begin quicklytransforming our churches and denominations into places whereIsaiah 58—known as The Salvation Army Charter—is theorder of the day. As General Booth wrote in the preface toIn Darkest England,“I have keenly felt the remedial measuresusually enunciated in Christian programmes…to be lamenta-bly inadequate for any effectual dealing with the despairingmiseries of these outcast classes.The rescued are appallinglyfew—a ghastly minority compared with the multitudes whostruggle and sink in the open-mouthed abyss.” n

Todd Lake is vice president for spiritual development at BelmontUniversity in Nashville,Tenn.

more frequent basis.”In light of this need, the Sacred City’s first and focal

project will be the creation of a Garden of Forgiveness at ornear Ground Zero.The fact that the attacks of September 11were religiously motivated,combined with the coming togeth-er of so many faiths and nationalities in the relief effort, laidthe initial groundwork for the garden, which will be a placewhere people of all faiths and traditions will be able to prayand meditate on the need for peace.“Religion as a cultur-al force must be studied and faith communities mobilized toparticipate in the redevelopment,” Harris says.“We neglectreligion at our peril.”

September 11 has international importance: Individualsfrom 91 countries, and nearly half that many faiths,were killedin the terrorist attacks.While this project is in the initialdevelopment stages, Harris advocates that it is essential thatall nations and all faiths be a part of the future at Ground Zeroand of a future that replaces religious violence with under-standing, cooperation, and lasting peace.

The Sacred City Project’s other endeavors include a peacerally at Ground Zero on the U.N. International Day of Peace,to be held on September 21, 2005; a conference in the spring

of 2006 with the keynote speech by Fred Luskin of theStanford Forgiveness Project and speeches by others such asNYPD Detective Stephen McDonald,who was paralyzed inthe line of duty in 1986 and who now speaks on peace andforgiveness; and a citywide Interfaith Colloquium on Re-Imagining the City. n

More information about these two projects can be found atwww.sacredcity.org and www.sjchapel.org.

Becky Garrison is a freelance writer based in New York City. She iscurrently working on a book focusing on the role of religion in the 2004election, to be published in the spring of 2006.

What If Every Denomination Were Like the Salvation Army?continued from page 25.

Redefining Church at Ground Zerocontinued from page 23.

Rev. Lyndon F. Harris directs the Sacred City Project,which seeks to continue the work of the interfaith

community that arose spontaneously after September 11.

*The Army actually divides its adherents into two groups: Members (449,000) and Soldiers (115,000).The members mayteach Sunday school, share in worship, etc. Soldiers are those who have signed the “Articles of War,” which include astandard Wesleyan doctrinal statement followed by “therefore…” It is here that the soldier pledges to devote him- orherself to be faithful “in His name, caring for the needy and disadvantaged” and to be involved in the “corps” (i.e. thecommunity centers run by the Army) in order to fulfill the pledge. Soldiers and officers wear uniforms, while others do not.

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“I’m leaving my church!”Slouched in a chair across from my desk, 32-year-old Bert

Wills had that youth-pastor look—sandals, baggy denims, aworn T-shirt with the emblem of some hip, social-justicecause. If I were 16, I’d have loved being in his youth group.

“Leaving?” Hadn’t Bert just traveled halfway across thecountry with his church’s youth group to help us out with ourinner-city ministry?

The kids in his group were upper-middle class, and myquick assessment was that Bert was doing some cutting-edgediscipleship by getting them out of their gated communitiesand putting them in places that would challenge their utopianworldviews and indifference and teach them what it meantto sacrifice and serve others.

Wearily he said,“I’m just tired.Tired of fighting.My churchelders and trustees don’t want to reach out to kids.Every timeI try to initiate a new project, I get shot down.The only youthministry the church leadership seems to endorse is a mainte-nance program for church kids already in our programs. I havevision and passion for the fringe kids, but I just get beatenup for doing what God has placed in my heart.”

I listened as Bert talked. Earlier in the day I had watchedhim interact with his kids.He didn’t just pay attention to thejocks and cheerleaders, but had a special concern for thosekids suffering from low self esteem. He had vision, passion,integrity, humor, and accessibility. He was a risk-taker with anentrepreneurial spirit, and he was a gritty servant. Hadn’t hejust driven a 55-passenger bus for three days straight?

“Doesn’t his church know what they have?” I asked myself.“Don’t those elders realize what kind of long-term impactthis guy could have on their kids and their community?”

I’m sure those same elders would be the first to com-plain about rising youth violence, drugs, and teen pregnancyin their community.Couldn’t they see the connection betweena dynamic youth minister and the curbing of those socialproblems? Couldn’t they move beyond their pettiness andsee that skilled, loving youth pastors are rare and that theywere incredibly blessed by God to have Bert?

But Bert felt as though he had been cursed by God likethe prophets of old. His bones burned like Jeremiah’s whenhe thought about limiting his youth outreach to those kidswho fit within the structure of the church. Bert believed thatthe gospel message of grace, forgiveness, healing, and redemp-tion was not reserved just for kids whose parents got them toyouth group in their Volvos, not just for kids who knew howto sit in a pew, read a hymnal, and conform to church etiquette.He wanted to go into the skate parks, the video arcades, theroller rinks. He wanted, in the words of Martin Luther, to liveon the “doormat of hell” and catch a few kids before theywere enraptured and seduced by this world. He wanted to bea dispenser of God’s life-changing love and grace.

But his strong sense of God’s grace included those kidsdown the street—those no one cared about.One of Bert’s owndeacons had said without thinking,“If those kids can’t come ontheir own to church,why do we have to go out and get them?”

“Their parents aren’t going to come and contribute tothe church,” another had chimed in.

“Why do you need an extra $500 for ‘outreach’ when wecould use the money to improve the curriculum for our kids?”the church accountant had asked at the annual budget meeting.

This lack of vision and support was driving Bert out of thechurch.He seemed at a dead end.There was no encouragementto stretch and develop his gifts—only resistance to outreach andgrowth.The message from the church leadership was clear:Don’t make waves. Focus inward. Maintain the status quo.

Shackling our entrepreneurs?In the business world visionary thinking is recognized withpromotion and bonuses. Initiative on the part of employees isacknowledged and affirmed. Entrepreneurial spirits keep busi-nesses competitive, and companies that do not change andrespond to a rapidly changing world quickly go out of business.Status quo does not cut it in the long run.

If Bert worked, say, for Burger King and was given thetask of recruiting young people and training them to becomemanagers and leaders, he would be applauded and encour-

ON BEATING UP YOUR YOUTH PASTORB Y B R U C E M A I N

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aged for any initiatives that moved him towards that goal.For some strange reason,however, church leadership often

fails to make the connection between visionary thinking andthe long-term life of a vital congregation.Churches often seemto be the only institutions in our culture that can justify themaintenance of “business as usual” while convincing theirmembers to continue providing support. Stagnant congrega-tions show up week after week, like creatures of habit caughtin a time warp, and then they criticize those who are trying toinitiate new ideas and adapt to a changing world.The ironyis that most of these “business as usual” congregations wouldnever support this mindset in other area of their lives.Would they go to movies that were using the same specialeffects and techniques used in the ’60s or ’70s? Would theybank at financial institutions without MAC machines? Ofcourse not.Then why do church congregations not embraceand support those who want to use their creative and inno-vative talents to expand God’s work in the world?

Most people-based institutions live by the principle thatthey must recruit new people and get those new people pas-sionate about their vision and mission if they want to remainrelevant and competitive. But sadly churches don’t always seethat recruiting new kids from the streets into a youth groupis significantly more important than recruiting kids to work ata fast-food shop. If they did, guys like Bert would be recog-nized as heroes and given the support they deserve. Instead,too many churches exercise their insecurities by beating upthe Berts of the world.

To put it bluntly, too many churches do not know howto deal with young, energetic entrepreneurs, and the youthpastor’s vision and passion for God is slowly undermined bythe church power structure. Narrow-minded church boardshave difficulty investing in programs that do not have animmediate payoff for their congregations, and trustees fre-quently find themselves more concerned with the spots onthe carpet than the spiritual lives of kids. Churchgoers areoften afraid to let their own children mix with kids whocome from different communities, and youth pastors who havea vision to bring kids in off the streets are often chastised.Consequently, the person with creative gifts too frequentlyleaves the timid church and finds an outlet in a parachurchministry or in the marketplace. I know many former youthworkers who have taken their incredible people skills and theirunending vision and have given it all to the business world.

Certainly these individuals can be terrific witnesses in theirplaces of work, but the majority of their energies are notbeing directed towards young people. Rather than counselingkids away from suicide, they are selling products anybodycould sell. Rather than hanging out on basketball courts and

sharing the gospel over coffee, they are flying around having“power lunches” and closing deals with those more interest-ed in building their company’s net worth than the souls ofAmerican youth.The entrepreneurial spirit, the energy, andthe creativity that should have been released on a full-timebasis for God’s work in the world are instead being offeredon the altars of corporate America.

Fan the spirit of youthful visionEntrepreneurial and innovative youth workers are one of God’sgreat gifts for building the church for future generations.Asleaders and older adults we must relinquish our need to con-trol, let go of our fears of the unknown, and enthusiasticallyencourage leadership that seeks to move beyond the statusquo.We must look at youth outreach as our number-onepriority, realizing that without our gifted youth leaders ourchurches will not grow and will not develop leaders for thenext generations.

When children came to Jesus and were shooed away by thedisciples, Jesus had a stern rebuke.The little ones, he said, arewhat the reign of God is all about, and he issued a warning tothose who created stumbling blocks for the little ones whowanted to enter this reign.Church leaders who defeat, squelch,or discourage their youth pastors—the very people who arebuilding bridges between kids and the reign of God—shouldtake heed of Jesus’ warning.

As I look around Camden,N.J., the city in which I work,and see empty churches which were once filled with peoplefrom the surrounding neighborhoods, I am vividly remindedof the dire consequences for local churches that lack vision-ary leadership and do not respond and reach out to theirchanging communities.Within the last 20 years, Baptist,Catholic,Methodist,Lutheran, and Presbyterian congregationshave all closed their doors because of their inability to reachlocal youth and nurture those youth into roles of leadership.Because of their short-sighted approach to ministry, our neigh-borhoods are void of youth programs that get kids off thestreets and potentially transform their lives. I strongly believethat this is one reason our city has a notorious reputation fordrugs, crime, and teen pregnancy.

So let’s stand up for our visionary youth pastor at the nexttrustee meeting.Let’s risk a little financial expansion for youthoutreach at the next budget meeting.And let’s walk down ourchurch hallway to the Youth Department and make sure ouryouth pastor senses that his or her role is absolutely criticalto the life—and future life—of our congregation. ■

Bruce Main is the cofounder and executive director of UrbanPromiseMinistries in Camden, N.J. (www.urbanpromiseusa.org).

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In June 2001, George W. Bush invited a diverse groupof Christian college presidents to Washington, D. C., todiscuss one of the first proposals of his presidency,commonly known as the faith-based initiative plan. It

was a radical idea: allocating funds to enable religious organ-izations to reach out to the community. Concerns quicklyarose: It would be necessary to assure that none of the gov-ernment support would go to religious activities.

When viewed through the lens of history, the scenedescribed is striking in its paradox. Unlike past centuries, thechurch is now on the outside looking in, viewed by muchof society as a stranger when it comes to public assistance andcommunity outreach.Today the church is knocking on thedoors of institutions the church itself once founded. Manyof our hospitals, shelters, and orphanages trace their roots tothe work of Christians who embraced Jesus’ mandate tohelp the “least of these. ”

So when did the church become the outsider? That’s onequestion Cindi Martin, a licensed clinical social worker,addresses when she speaks to pastors and counselors regardingsocial services in the church.“Demographically and econom-ically, the development of urban sprawl left many inner-citychurches destitute,”Martin explains.“Those who could afforda move to the suburbs left, and apparently so did the visionfor the inner city as an obvious mission for the local church.Many inner-city churches shriveled and died, leaving theirboarded-up shells as a testimony to another era.

“Whereas once we were faced with ‘my brother in need’everyday,” she continues, “now we could read about themfrom the safety of our homes or gated communities.We didn’tthink about those we were leaving behind or who would reachthem. But the government did. Interestingly enough, thewelfare state was emerging at the same time that the churchwas moving out.And since there were now organizations andgovernment programs to meet the needs of the poor,we couldfocus on overseas missions and church growth.We had money

to spend on our own buildings and administrative staff.”Not only did we abandon the poor, Martin believes, but

the church also left behind its heart.“When you personallyknow a homeless man or a single mom,your attitude towardsyour responsibility changes. I’m not suggesting that the poordon’t have any responsibility for helping themselves. But wemust initiate reaching out to them. Single moms and theirchildren are among the poorest in our land.Yet,our stereotypesabout welfare mothers have often caused us to overempha-size the concept of the worthy poor and the unworthy poor,while neglecting to look at ourselves to see if we are evenwilling to reach out.”

Randy Alcorn, author of The Treasure Principle: Discoveringthe Secret of Joyful Giving (Multnomah, 2001), introduces asurefire way to restore the heart of social evangelism in thechurch. In an email interview Alcorn said,“Some people say,‘I wish I had a heart for the poor.’Well, Jesus told us exactlyhow we can:‘Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven…forwhere your treasure is, your heart will be also. ’The way tomove our heart toward something is to put our treasurethere.You want a heart for General Motors? Then invest alot of money in General Motors.You want a heart for thepoor and the needy? Invest your money, time, and abilities—all of which are your treasures—in the needy, and your heartis certain to follow.”

One church that might be considered fully invested ineternity is First Baptist Church of Leesburg, Fla. Strugglingto survive 25 years ago, the church today is 5,000 membersstrong and offers 70 different ministries, housed at a “ministryvillage” on property adjacent to the church worship center. Itincludes a rescue mission, women’s shelter, teen home, preg-nancy-care center, furniture barn, clothes closet, foodpantry, and medical center.

Under the leadership of its pastor, Charles Roesel, thechurch offers what they call ministry evangelism.“Ministryevangelism is meeting a person’s needs in order to share God’s

REGAINING LOST GROUNDBenevolence and the Church

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love and forgiveness with them,” says Roesel.“I am not herejust to feed the hungry or clothe the naked, but, I’ll tell youthis, it is the most effective New Testament way of reachingpeople week after week for Jesus Christ. ”

Pastor Roesel personally lives out his conviction.Whenhis unbelieving neighbor needed his leafy roof cleaned off,Roesel grabbed his blower and went to work. Today boththat neighbor and his wife serve at the church.“I could havegiven them Josh McDowell’s Evidence That Demands a Verdict,which is a wonderful book, and we could have gone on twoor three years discussing and debating. But one act of serviceevangelism got their attention more than years of talk.”

For one woman, service evangelism has meant a great dealmore.Abby was finishing up boot camp following a periodof incarceration and was frantically looking for a place tostay. “I didn’t want to go back home into the same ways oflife as before, and the Lord worked everything out.” Abbybegan residing at the church’s women’s shelter where shereceived the support she needed.

“I attend the Sunday school and church service. I evengot a job at the church as a janitor.There’s not a doubt inmy mind that I would have been flat on my face—and backin prison—without the spiritual foundation being laid.”

Today,Abby is married to a godly man, and attends col-lege in pursuit of a nursing career, hoping to work eventuallyin medical missions. She is thankful that God used the shelterto give her a new life.“God knew what he was doing whenhe placed me there. God sees so much more for us than we

see for ourselves.”Building a serving empire like the one in Leesburg,where

thousands of people receive some type of assistance each year,might seem financially overwhelming.After all, benevolencedoesn’t come cheap. But Roesel believes that pastors con-cerned about the dollars are asking the wrong question.“Never ask, ‘Can we afford it?’ Ask, ‘Is it God’s will?’ If it’sGod’s will, he can afford it. ” God has more than footed thebills at Roesel’s church. Donations and grants from thecommunity and members alike helped the church build the$2-million ministry village, with the church still finishing upits fiscal year $100,000 over budget.

Still, there’s nothing wrong with churches starting smallwhen they first establish a benevolent ministry. TaborMennonite Church in Newton, Kans., partners with twoother churches to provide a community food pantry.Volunteersunder the able leadership of 78-year-old Rosella Wedel runthe food closet that is housed in one of the Sunday schoolclassrooms. “Ten years ago the minister said we needed afood pantry, so we took it on,” she explains.“There are somerecipients who spend their money foolishly. Some churchmembers said we shouldn’t feed them, but I said, ‘We’ll doit anyway. If they’re hungry, we’ll feed them.’”

By preaching more on evangelism and outreach, CoreyMiller, pastor of the host church, has been working with hisparishioners to make sure those receiving help get more thanjust food.“It’s easy for people to give food and fix up a house,but it’s always been more difficult for us to verbalize.We often

Seven Questions to Ask Before Starting a Church Benevolence Program

1.Who will make the decisions regarding requests? How much flexibility will the gatekeeper have? What is the budget?

2. Can we verify the need? If so, is there a responsible party to whom a check can be written directly? 3. Is there any instance in which a person unknown to the church would be given cash?

If so, what are those instances?4. Can the “creature comforts”—food, clothing, shelter, and medical care—be provided through arrangements

with local vendors? For instance, can the church open a charge account at the local pharmacy so that someonesuffering from poison ivy or a cold could go to the pharmacy and be given the proper medication? What aboutthe same sort of relationship with doctors, grocery stores, and other vendors?

5. Is there someone within the congregation willing to offer these services for free or at a reduced rate?6. How many times will the church help a nonmember or nonbeliever? What are the reasons for the limit? 7. Is there a sin—gambling, pornography addiction, drug use, alcohol abuse, or unbridled consumerism—

causing the need? How will this be handled?

- Michael Barrick, editor of the webzine: www. thegoodsteward. com

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decided, in this case, to give to them financially and workwith their directors.We are looking at becoming part of theirprogram and gaining more of a voice for Christ.”

Clearly, one challenge of the 21st-century church is toreclaim our reputation for service to the community, findingcreative ways to show and tell the gospel through benevo-lent acts both large and small. Perhaps the greatest challenge,however, is to resist the temptation to sidestep the benevo-lence issue altogether by setting ourselves up as judges ofwhom is “deserving” or “undeserving” of our acts of giving.Christ himself never made those judgments, reaching out toany and all who came to him for help. History has shown usthat benevolence is a powerful way to get our neighbors’attention so we can then share the message of Christ withthem. And Christ has commanded us to love one another,even our enemies.The way before us is clear. ■

Lynne M.Thompson is a freelance writer from Modesto, Calif.(www. kidfishy. com)

don’t preach what we practice;we are doers but we’ve been quietin the land. Now we are trying to articulate our faith more.”

Other churches serve by partnering with existing para-church organizations. Menlo Park Presbyterian Church inCalifornia’s Silicon Valley wanted to extend a hand to someof the 700 homeless people who populate the area, many ofwhom walk through the church doors requesting assistance.After some soul-searching, the church decided to lend finan-cial support to a local ministry called Urban Ministry ofPalo Alto.As David Peterson, director of congregational careat Menlo Park, explains:“A number of the agencies do whatthey do extremely well. If we were to try to replicate it, wewould do it at a much lower level or not as efficiently.That’swhat we thought with the homeless.Do we bring them here?Do we feed them here? We saw that the program already setup is really efficient and has been refined over 12 years. So we

12 Ministries to Start Today1. Pregnancy care: provide free pregnancy tests,

counseling, and prenatal care.2. New parents: provide babysitting for new parents.3.Women’s care: provide housing, protection, and

care for displaced, endangered, or abused women.4. Clothing: provide appropriate work clothing

for people seeking employment.5. Latchkey ministry: provide before- and after-

school care for a small fee.6.Tutoring: provide a free after-school program

to help students with academic problems.7. Home meal delivery: provide hot meals to

senior shut-ins.8.Transportation: provide transportation to

seniors for grocery shopping, medical appoint-ments, and church attendance.

9. Car repair: offer automobile repair for widows,elderly persons, and single mothers.

10. Christmas toy store: purchase and collect newtoys and other children’s items and invite low-income parents to come and select items at alow price or for free.

11. Counseling: provide group or individualcounseling by professional counselors or bytrained lay counselors.

12. 24-hour prayer line: provide and advertise atelephone line that is staffed 24 hours a day.

Adapted from Meeting Needs, Sharing Christ, by Donald A.Atkinson & Charles L. Roesel (LifeWay Press). Used by permission.

Out-of-the-Box Challenges • Meet once a week with an urban pastor in your

city, for breakfast and prayer.• Invite a homeless person to join you for lunch at

McDonalds (yes, you eat together!).• Volunteer to serve at a local homeless shelter or

crisis center twice a month.• Form a prayer team that focuses exclusively on

what benevolent ministry God is calling yourchurch to pursue.

Resources• Meeting Needs, Sharing Christ: Ministry Evangelism

in Today’s New Testament Church, by Donald A.Atkinson and Charles Roesel (LifeWayBookstores, 1995; tel: 800-233-1123).Video andworkbook also available.

• The Treasure Principle: Discovering the Secret of JoyfulGiving, by Randy Alcorn (Multnomah, 2001)

• Establishing a Benevolence Ministry In Your ChurchCommunity, by Crown Financial Ministries (tel:800-722-1976)

• The Kingdom Assignment, by Denny and LeesaBellesi (Zondervan, 2001)

• The Church of Irresistible Influence, by RobertLewis (Zondervan, 2003)

• World Vision’s Love in the Name of Christ (LOVEINC), tel: 800-777-5277; www. LOVEINC. org

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debt, deficits, and delinquencies. Given this commitment to fiscal

responsibility, it was only natural that when the foreclosure crisis hit the state of New Jersey, Soaries felt compelled to step up and help. But what could one church do? Federal politicians were scrambling to try and rectify the grow-ing number of foreclosures. New Jersey was hit particularly hard. So Rev. Soaries, along with the First Baptist Community Development Corporation (which later became known as the Central Jersey Community Development Corporation or CJCDC), set up a meeting with com-munity members, bankers, mortgage representatives, elected officials, and members of the clergy. When over 800 people showed up, it was only too clear that they needed to devise a plan to help

those homeowners most desperately in need. In answer to the need, the Housing Assistant Recovery Program (HARP) was instituted by the CJCDC.

In partnership with area banks, HARP has created a revolutionary approach to assist struggling homeown-ers on the brink of foreclosure, and the program has had remarkable results. Here’s how the program works. Homeowners who are facing foreclosure first meet with HUD-certified counselors in an attempt to work out a loan modifica-tion with the homeowner’s lender. If loan modification is unattainable, the CJCDC will purchase the home from the lender and enter into a lease-purchase agreement with the homeowner. The homeowner must commit to attending

financial counseling provided through the CJCDC. In addition, the home-owner must identify a mentor who can help the family through the process of reestablishing themselves financially by holding them accountable to their goals (the mentor has no financial obligation to the family). Finally, within 12-24 months, the family is able to repurchase their home at an amount not to exceed their original debt. Through this initia-tive people are able to stay in their homes, reestablish their credit, and repurchase their homes at a fair price. Rev. Soaries calls the plan “real help, right now, using no taxpayer money.”

In HARP’s first year the CJCDC was able to help over 400 families, but with the number of foreclosure filings steadily rising, Soaries believed that they needed to do more. Under his guidance, the CJCDC brokered a partnership with a neighborhood revitalization firm called APD Solutions in Atlanta, Ga. The firm invested $25 million to further HARP’s work and to allow the CJCDC to buy up vacant bank-owned properties in eight targeted communities in New Jersey. The CJCDC would then offer these homes to low- and moderate-income families along with continuing to help those families facing foreclosure. This new venture is estimated to help approxi-mately 625 families this year alone.

Rev. Soaries sums up the core belief of the First Baptist Church of Lincoln Garden like this: “We don’t celebrate Jesus only on Sunday morning but also believe in serving our community in the name of Jesus all week long.” And by the grace of God, they are doing just that. (For more information about HARP visit FBCSomerset.com). n

Lori G. Baynard is a Sider Scholar at Palmer Theological Seminary, where she studies faith and public policy. She also serves as a court-appointed special advocate for abused and neglected children in N.J.

Offering Good News in Bad News Times

First Baptist Church of Lincoln Gardens was founded in 1937 in Somerset, N.J., where it quickly established itself as a church that cared for and served the community. Its legacy of feeding hungry families, providing scholarships to young people in the community, and taking the love of Jesus Christ out into the neigh-boring community was well in place when Rev. DeForest “Buster” Soaries came to the church in 1990 as a pastoral candidate.

“The role of the Christian church is to offer good news to those who find themselves in bad news situations,” affirms Soaries. And whether the bad news situ-ation is a governor in the middle of a scandal, a radio personality making racial slurs about the local women’s basketball team, or a police chief who needs assis-tance with community relations, Rev. Soaries and the members of First Baptist Church of Lincoln Gardens have been quick to serve.

Under Soaries’ guidance over the last two decades, the church has placed 345 abandoned babies in loving homes, con-structed over 100 homes for low- and moderate-income families, and created the Cisco Technology Academy (the first faith-based academy of its kind in the country). The church created and runs a state-of-the-art health center and a social services center, as well as a job readiness program. When a growing num-ber of church members found themselves saddled with credit card debt, Rev. Soaries instituted the Dfree Lifestyle program, which encourages and teaches members to manage their money and live free of

Given the pastor’s commitment to fiscal responsibility,

it was only natural that when the foreclosure crisis hit New Jersey, the church

stepped up to help.

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preaching the gospel while situated in the bull’s-eye of a war zone.

Dozens of bullet holes punctuate the wall and ceiling of Raheb’s office. In 2002, during the second intifada, Israeli sol-diers used the church’s facilities as their headquarters for three days, causing over half a million dollars in damages. Despite the destruction inflicted by the army, the ministry of the church has continued to grow and to flourish, for Pastor Raheb’s message is one of great hope.

Raheb sees his pastoral role in the community as encouraging Palestinians to move from the perspective of being a victim to that of being active partici-pants in pursuing hope for the future. He invites people to be a part of the vision and to nurture, challenge, and educate themselves through leadership training and development. The opportunity for transformation comes through a relation-ship with Christ and the opportunity to become actively engaged in shaping the future of their community.

Creative opportunities to develop and uplift people in the community are found in the church’s Diyar Consortium, a compilation of ministries that includes the International Center of Bethlehem (ICB), committed to “serving the whole of the community from the ‘womb to the tomb’ with an emphasis on women, children, youth, and the elderly”; the Bethlehem Media Center, which pro-vides programming in Arabic that seeks to support the elderly and empower women as well as to report the good news coming out of Palestine; and the Dar-Al Kalima College, which teaches over 100 students skills for sustainable living, including training in the arts, teaching, tourism, and various other academic programs. Other ministries of the church include a restaurant and guesthouse, children’s programs, a community cen-ter, a 350-seat theater, and dozens of activities to encourage life and bring hope to those living in Bethlehem.

Just as Christ’s incarnation took place in a particular cultural context, theology must be relevant to the context of the Palestinian people. Raheb says, “It is only Jesus who is able to transform people in this country from spectators into actors.” The partition wall that sur-rounds the city of Bethlehem is cov-ered with scrawled cries for freedom. The despair of living with restricted movement, with limited economic opportunities, and with other realities of occupation can feel overwhelming to Palestinians living in Bethlehem.

But Raheb describes the genius of the gospel in this way: Jesus could have viewed himself as a victim of the Roman Empire — that would have been a natural, understandable response. Instead, he was victorious over death, and his followers went forth proclaiming, “He is risen!” They professed a hope that was beyond human understanding. Christians were no longer victims but victors in the message of Christ.

Of his community in Bethlehem, Raheb says, “If hope can be experienced in this context, it can be experienced anywhere in the world.” The Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church is doing all it can to embody the promise implicit in Christmas, here in the birthplace of hope — for the people of Bethlehem and beyond. n

Visit BethlehemChristmasLutheran.org. Mitri Raheb’s books include I Am a Palestinian Christian (1995), Bethlehem 2000: Past and Present (1998), and Bethlehem Besieged (2004).

Mae Cannon is executive pastor of Hillside Covenant Church in Walnut Creek, Calif.

Besieged by Hope

In 1967, shortly after the outbreak of the Six-Day War between Israel and its neigh-boring states, a 5-year-old Palestinian boy named Mitri Raheb was carried by his mother to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem in search of refuge from the bombardments. Built on a 4th-century foundation, the Church of the Nativity marks the traditionally recognized birth-place of Jesus. For centuries worshipers from around the world have been trav-eling to that very place to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace. However, through much of the 20th century and into the new millennium, Bethlehem has been a place of conflict, poverty, and oppression — the consequences of living under occupation. Bethlehem has known little peace.

A descendent of generations of Christians, little Mitri Raheb would grow up to become a pastor and shepherd to his community in Bethlehem. He stud-ied in Germany, earning his doctorate in theology from the Philipps University in Marburg. After returning to his home-land, Raheb became the pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Christmas Church, where he discovered that the theological framework he learned from his univer-sity training failed to relate to the ques-tions being asked by his community in Bethlehem. He began a process of help-ing his congregation wrestle with con-textual theology while living with the stress of occupation. Six months after his return from Germany, the first inti-fada started. Raheb recounts the difficulty of preaching a sermon while artillery fire barked in the distance. He talks about the challenges of worshiping God, shep-herding the community of faith, and

Nominate a holistic church at kristyn@esa-online.org.

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CCUC bought the building, named it the Pui Tak Center, and established it as the physical home of their community service arm. A year later, David Wu was hired as the center’s executive director. Wu points out that the 30,000-square-foot building, Chinatown’s only histori-cal landmark, is a perfect portrait of the gospel — something corrupted by man has been redeemed by God and now serves people in God’s name. He insists it is no coincidence that the city’s most distinctive example of Chinese archi-tecture has become the point at which Chinese immigrants begin acclimating to a new life in the United States.

“Even in our outreach work we are trying to connect this need people have — to learn English — with our vision of sharing the gospel with the people around Chinatown,” says Wu. “Every year, people are getting bap-tized at CCUC, and I think that is the most important measure — not simply becoming active at church, but really doing work to build a Christian life.” While adult education has been a cen-tral focus, many new immigrants are in urgent need of basic orientation to the city. CCUC’s Individual Community Program meets this need by assisting immigrants with legal, medical, and edu-cational concerns. By distributing over 300 welcome packages a year to new-comers, the Pui Tak Center begins to build relationships with immigrants who might otherwise have neither the time nor the inclination to attend church on a Sunday morning.

From the start CCUC has taken a holistic approach to community services. “All of our services here at the Pui Tak Center focus on one thing — helping new immigrants in Chinatown rebuild their lives,” says Wu. “On a typical day, 600 to 800 people come through our doors. Many are new immigrants from China who come to learn English or to seek advice from our staff. Some realize that they need help rebuilding their

spiritual lives, too.”The success of the ESL program has

been fueled by the immigrants’ earnest desire to learn, even when it means an early morning class after an all-night shift at a restaurant. Wu recalls one student who drove two hours from Racine, Wis., to attend classes. Because the program receives some governmental support, the classes cover job training, career devel-opment, and computer literacy. In addi-tion, CCUC offers ESL Bible classes, which allows the staff to touch on the spiritual as well as the physical and eco-nomic aspects of each immigrant’s life. “ESL allows us to walk with immigrants for two to three years,” explains Wu, “building long-term relationships that would otherwise be impossible.”

“I think evangelism is what really drives the church,” he continues, “but a lot of churches miss the immigrant work-ing class because it’s so hard to reach out to them with their demanding work schedules.”

The recession has provided an oppor-tunity for the church to expand its out-reach. Says Wu, “Our ESL instructors are working to create a new healthcare curriculum for our classes to provide a broader market for immigrants. We are also developing courses tailored specifi-cally to restaurant workers and hotel housekeepers — with English they need to do their job.”

The joy and enthusiasm that the staff exhibit in serving immigrants explain why Wendy Chai, and others like her, beam with appreciation for the Christians at Pui Tak Center. “They have given us a new life that I’m very proud of,” she says. More importantly, the gospel is being lived out before them in practical, tangible, and significant ways. n

Daniel Collins is a freelance writer and video producer in Chicago, Ill. “Making a Difference” profiles congregations that put arms and legs on the gospel. Nominate a church at kristyn@esa-online.org.

Reaching Working-Class

Immigrants in Chicago’s Chinatown

When Wendy Chai left her native China for Chicago two years ago, her primary concern was finding a job. But she also needed to learn English. A number of people recommended that she check out the free ESL classes at Pui Tak Center, located in the heart of the city’s Chinatown. Two weeks after arriving in Chicago, Chai began her first course. “Now I can speak and write basic sen-tences,” says Chai, 57. “I don’t have to avoid talking to Americans.”

The Pui Tak Center is a ministry of the Chinese Christian Union Church (CCUC), which opened in 1903 with the goal of reaching the city’s growing number of Chinese immigrants. Over the years, the church has offered English classes for adults, sponsored homework tutoring and Chinese language classes for children, and even opened up its gym to the community. The church started Chinatown’s first preschool in 1953 and operated a monthly medical clinic throughout the ’60s and ’70s.

In the late ’80s, the church’s ministry to the community had expanded so much that additional space was urgently needed. Just down the street from CCUC stood a monument to traditional Chinese archi-tecture, a building constructed in 1928 as headquarters for a Chinatown mer-chants association. The building served in that capacity until 1988, when an FBI raid exposed a multimillion-dollar rack-eteering operation and it was confiscated by the federal government. In 1993

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ings within the suburban community. But Anderson’s understanding of the biblical partnership between evangelism and social action prompted in him a growing discomfort with the congrega-tion’s vision for suburban ministry. His concerns were vividly confirmed when GCC planned to give Thanksgiving tur-keys to needy area families and nobody in the congregation knew of anyone in need. His discomfort intensified as Philadelphia’s 2007 mayoral election cycle commenced and he heard stories of the city’s rampant murder rates, largely in his native North Philadelphia.

Anderson wasn’t the only one in the congregation with urban roots. In fact, much of GCC had close ties to those urban areas in the most turmoil. Anderson began to seek God’s will for the church, and he invited the congregation to join him in an intensive study of Nehemiah. Because of what God revealed to them through this study, as well as the congre-gation’s growing desire to have its own facility, GCC decided to move to an urban setting where they could integrate with the community and partner with God’s work of transformation.

In the year following this discernment, GCC worked at raising adequate funds, handling logistics, and preparing mem-bers’ hearts for the impending move into a new context. They located an old church building in Philadelphia’s West Oak Lane section that fit their vision and, with some assistance, was fiscally feasible for them to acquire. They studied the surrounding neighborhood and found that their congregation could mesh well demographically. They developed a doc-ument outlining their plan, expressing their desire to serve in an urban setting and inviting others to journey alongside them. Anderson used this document as a rallying point to mobilize the congre-gation and others to support the transi-tion, both spiritually and financially. This entire process culminated in January 2008, when GCC moved into its new

facility, poised to connect with the soci-etal brokenness all around them and offer it Jesus’ love.

Since the move, GCC has continued to be a nontraditional, informal evangeli-cal congregation. Anderson has worked at cultivating a sense of authentic trans-parency throughout the church, which offers safety and grace to those in the com-munity who are recognizing their bro-kenness. These successes certainly have not come without trials, and Anderson is ready to share about the times when the new context has strained congrega-tional comfort zones. But GCC has allowed God to sustain and lead them in this journey, making each of these struggles fruitful.

Anderson has worked at developing partnerships with various agencies in the community that GCC can support and work with in social engagement. He has been influenced by John Perkins’ phi-losophy of Christian community devel-opment, which he encountered in his current doctoral study at Biblical Theological (where is he also director of Urban Initiatives and the seminary’s first African American faculty member), and he is working to utilize those prin-ciples in GCC’s new setting. This has led the congregation to participate effec-tively in holistic ministry and to begin offering new hope to a neighborhood in turmoil.

By God’s grace GCC is pioneering an exciting response to the reality of “black flight,” offering a model of hope to all churches, regardless of demographic makeup. (To learn more, please visit their website at GreatCommissiononline.org. n

Mark L. Reiff is pursuing his M.Div degree at Palmer Theological Seminary in Wynnewood, Pa., where he is a Sider Scholar working with ESA’s Word & Deed Network. He is also a youth pastor at Doylestown Mennonite Church. “Making a Difference” profiles congregations that put arms and legs on the gospel. Nominate a church at kristyn@esa-online.org.

Reversing a Trend

The January 2009 issue of Christianity Today reported that African American congregations are increasingly embrac-ing a “black flight” from urban areas as more and more African Americans reach middle-class socioeconomic status. The report said that this only increases the disillusionment with God’s people among those who stay.

Standing counter to this trend is the Great Commission Church (GCC). founded a decade ago in Roslyn, Pa., a Philadelphia suburb, this congregation decided to move to a Northwest Phila-delphia neighborhood dealing with more than its fair share of crime, drugs, and unemployment. Pastor Larry Anderson, who oversaw the move, marvels at the work God is doing in and through GCC, a congregation that was, at the time of the move, composed mostly of middle-class African Americans—a model of the very trend reported by Christianity Today.

The story of GCC’s unusual move goes back to 2002, when Larry Anderson and his family moved to Roslyn and began searching for a new church home. They visited GCC and found it was a good fit, but God had more than mem-bership in mind for Anderson. A year later the church’s lead pastor expressed his desire to step into a support role, and Anderson, who was doing urban train-ing and pursuing his MDiv at Biblical Theological Seminary, was asked to con-sider the position. By the end of that year, through continued study and training as well as close mentorship by the leadership team, Anderson was confident enough to fill the lead pastoral role. “I never applied for the position,” recalls Anderson. “God prepared the entire situation, and I just followed his leading.”

Since its inception, GCC had rented meeting space in various church build-

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The church did eventually build a school, which today ministers to foster families. “Foster kids are welcome at the school, and we work hard to scholarship their needs,” says Sauder.

The church maintains a strong empha-sis on issues related to orphans: 100 kids are in their care on any given day, 200 volunteers participate in such ministries as mentoring and teaching, and over 200 Christian families are licensed to be fos-ter parents. Every child brought into the Broward County Child Welfare system —yes, that’s r ight, every child!—is given loving shelter and supervision at SafePlace 4KiDS while they await a more permanent placement.

After that, children are either placed with a foster care family or at KidsPlace Shelter, a family-style shelter for up to six kids, aged 4 to 14. This allows sib-lings to be kept together while awaiting a foster home placement or reunification with a family member. Those children who are not placed with a foster care family or family member are welcomed into GirlsPlace (for teenage girls), GuysPlace (for teenage boys), and KidsPlace 2 (for sibling groups and chil-dren who are difficult to place).

CCFL and 4KiDS of South Florida also work in tandem with two additional nonprofit organizations that were launched from the church. His Caring Place provides a safe harbor for pregnant teenagers, and Adoption 4KiDS matches courageous birthparents with committed Christian families.

Another aspect of this ministry to foster children is CCFL’s commitment to help other churches get involved in foster care solutions. To date, 140 church-es are involved in or partnering with CCFL and 4KiDS of South Florida.

How did this church organize such a comprehensive, large-scale effort so effectively? Seeing the need to draw in other churches and faith-based providers throughout the tri-county area, 4KiDS birthed “Churches United for Foster Care”

in 2002. This initiative now facilitates the involvement of more than 100 organiza-tions to care for Florida’s orphans.

“We have vision luncheons with other Florida pastors, sharing the man-date of Scripture to care for orphans as well as teaching them how they can be a part of the solution. We tell them, ‘We don’t need your money. We need your people to love and care for orphans,’” says Sauder.

CCFL empowers local churches to start their own residential homes for kids in need. “We train and take on liability so that a church can integrate a ministry to foster children into the life of their own church. it’s sort of a franchise model,” says Sauder.

in 2006, CCFL made 32 presenta-tions to congregations, yielding 33 new families involved in the licensing process, 53 new homes licensed, and 53 children placed in ministry-based, foster care settings.

Parenting a child is a lifetime com-mitment, so getting members involved can be challenging. “Foster parenting can be scary, but once you see the kids and begin to work through the issues, it is very rewarding,” says Sauder, a foster parent himself. “Spiritually, our ministry to foster kids adds a vibrancy to the church.” Having foster kids in the class-rooms of the church’s school and sum-mer camps, as well as having foster par-ents in the adult Sunday school classes, brings a dose of reality to the scriptural call to care for orphans. n

Krista Petty is a senior advisor for Backyard Impact (BackyardImpact.com), a communi-ty-involvement training organization for congregations, community agencies, and cor-porations. She also serves as an editor and resource developer for the Externally Focused Church (EFC) movement. Sponsored by the Compassion Coalition and Fasten Network, Petty writes EFC profiles of churches (avail-able at FastenNetwork.com), from which this article was adapted.

A Church for Orphans

“We were planning on building a school in 1997, but our plans changed,” recalls Doug Sauder, pastor of family minis-tries at Calvary Chapel Fort Lauderdale (CCFL).

Why? Because that year the news-paper headlines in Florida exposed a dire state of affairs: Foster children had been lost, and some had even died yet gone unmissed by the very system cre-ated to track and care for them.

This got the attention of CCFL’s leadership and members. Although they had always been a church focused on community needs, they chose to divert energy, effort, and funds to solutions for foster care children and youth as never before.

“Children need homes first!” exclaimed Senior Pastor Bob Coy from the pulpit one Sunday. The congregation—a vibrant body of more than 18,000 believers at one main and two satellite campuses—agreed, and today, much to the credit of CCFL, children in Broward County are not only being enfolded into new homes but are also receiving a quality educa-tion and being formally adopted.

By delaying the start-up of the Christ-ian school project for a year, the church was able initially to add four people to staff for their foster care ministry, 4KiDS of South Florida. Since then, the minis-try has become its own nonprofit with a staff of 70. To date, 6,000 kids have been housed, fed, and loved in Christian shelters or foster homes as a part of the ministry, and over 100 children have been connected with families for adoption. This ministry is in addition to their min-istry to thousands of prisoners, a home for pregnant teens, and 65 church plants in Florida and around the world.

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want to see a generation of children who rise up and do not follow in the paths of their parents,” says Furushima. Wellspring works predominately with children of incarcerated mothers, but has worked with children of incarcerated fathers as well.

They began by consulting with staff from the Center for Family at the University of Hawaii, building relation-ships in the community, and seeking to integrate the prisoners’ families into the local church. Right next to Aiea, in the shadow of such tourist magnets as Aloha Stadium and Pearl Harbor, lies the community of Pu’uwai Momi, a public housing development and one of the largest and most challenging neighbor-hoods on the island.

“We decided to take the church to Pu’uwai Momi,” explains Furushima. “Too many times we say that we are the church and people should come to us. We took the church to the people.” This involves providing Christmas for the families, picking up local youths so they can participate in church events, and providing Mother’s Day celebra-tions for those children whose moms are incarcerated.

Eventually Wellspring came to under-stand that their various activities were not simply an offshoot of the main ministry of the church, but something intrinsic to their ministry, a natural mani-festation of who God was calling them to be. With this in mind, in 2006 Wellspring absorbed Safe Place into the church, canceling its separate nonprofit status, for they no longer see the min-istry as separate from the church.

On Easter Sunday, Wellspring took the church to the local women’s cor-rectional facility, thanks to the rapport the church body has developed with the authorities over the past few years. They brought in food, games, crafts—and the inmates’ children. Volunteers from the church, including people from Pu’uwai Momi, joined with the incar-

cerated moms and their children in worshipping the arrested, incarcerated, tortured, executed, risen Christ. On that memorable day, they were no longer separate entities—Wellspring Covenant Church, incarcerated moms, etc.—instead, they were simply one body, the church of Jesus Christ expe-riencing his grace through the resur-rection story.

In addition to erasing the walls between the church, the community, and the prison, Wellspring has estab-lished both the Wellspring Arts Institute and Hawaii Theological Seminary. The Arts Institute is a place where writers, painters, sculptors, and musicians can express their faith and where the church body can embrace and benefit from their gifts. “We believe that the arts are another significant way we can impact the world,” explains Furushima, who also serves as president of the church’s small accredited graduate theological school. “Our goal is to equip leaders for ministry in a variety of settings,” he says of the seminary, “especially in Hawaii, the Pacific Islands, and Asia. We will soon become the graduate school of a col-lege currently in Guam with campuses on several Micronesian islands.”

While tourists wander the nearby beaches enjoying a brief stay in what they call paradise, little do they know that heaven is really happening in the local prison, public housing neighbor-hood, and a small church with a big heart. For paradise is wherever righ-teousness and justice prevail and wher-ever Christ’s church understands her call to be his bride. n

J. Monty Stewart is the pastor of Kona Church of the Nazarene, a multicultural church in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. “Making a Difference” profiles congregations—of any size, budget, and denomination—that put arms and legs on the gospel. If you’d like to nominate a church for this column, email the editor at kristyn@esa-online.org.

A Wellspring in Paradise

Emerging from the Honolulu Inter-national Airport on the island of Oahu, you get your first whiff of paradise. Verdant palm trees wave in the seawater-scented breeze, and you can almost taste the mango, papaya, coconut, and pine-apple. People fly in from all over the world, drawn to luxurious locations like Waikiki Beach and famous landmarks like the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor or the Aloha Stadium, home of the NFL’s yearly Pro Bowl.

In the nearby community of Aiea stands Wellspring Covenant Church, the first Evangelical Covenant church plant in Hawaii. Pastors Randy Furushima and Dale Vallejo-Sanderson planted Wellspring in 2001, the result of both tenured pastors desiring to be more justice-oriented in the scope of their ministries. Wanting to see justice and righteousness prevail, they envi-sioned their new church as being con-temporary, invested in the lives of people, and making a difference in the local community.

Then the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, rocked the nation. People immediately began returning to church, but it was mostly to the main-line denominations. The pastors regrouped and prayed about finding a niche, something that no one else was doing on the island of Oahu. They dis-covered that while many churches were involved in jail or prison ministries, reaching out to incarcerated folks, no one was helping children stay in touch with their incarcerated parents, particu-larly the mothers.

They applied for a separate non-profit and launched Safe Place, a minis-try for kids of incarcerated adults. “We

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place for them to go after school.Michaelsen didn’t yet attend Living

Water Community Church, but she knew some people who did: Debbie Lee had started the moms’ group for which Michaelsen babysat, and Lee’s upstairs neighbor, Lidia Mika, was hosting a small group of middle-schoolers for home-work time in her apartment in the after-noons. Mika invited Michaelsen and the boys to use her living room while the middle-schoolers met in the kitchen.

Mika and Lee introduced Michaelsen to other members of the church who had created a tiny nonprofit called Bridge and Garden Works, giving it the motto “Christians cultivating children’s poten-tial in Rogers Park.” When Michaelsen’s term with Youth with a Mission ended, she asked her friends and family to con-tinue to support her work by giving to the nonprofit.

This jived with the congregation’s mission strategy. Members “look for where the Spirit of God is at work and collaborate with it,” says Pastor Sally Youngquist. The Bridge and Garden Works connection was only a small part of the picture. Hospitality, peaceful volunteer action, and good cooking are Living Water’s long-term tools for cul-tivation: Discipleship flourishes when members welcome neighbors into their homes; a lemonade stand provides a peaceful presence on a corner where fights often break out after school; neigh-borhood kids crowd in for a weekly potluck meal.

When Pastor Youngquist opened her home to the boys for an evening Bible study, they began to invite their friends, and soon they were a group of 12—all boys but one. They called themselves Kids Network.

The group then moved to the dou-ble apartment that the congregation used for a fellowship room, and Living Water’s after-school program was born. More volunteers joined in, and they began serving a dinner-quality snack to

the children. “It’s often the kids’ first meal of the day,” said the current coor-dinator, Sue Ormesher.

Soon the original Kids Network group became too old for the after-school program, so youth pastor Joe Maniglia began integrating them into the church youth group. Now they are finishing high school and beginning college—and anchoring the volunteer staff of Living Water’s summer VBS.

Two years ago Living Water moved into its own building. The transition was so expensive that the tiny after-school line item had to be cut from the church budget, and the youth pastor position was cut down to part-time. The congregation held its breath, wondering how things would go without them. Ormesher wasn’t worried. “If God wants this thing to happen,” she said, “then it doesn’t require a particular leader.”

Indeed, the program now serves an unprecedented 18 children two after-noons a week, Spanish-speaking volun-teers are joining in, and the leaders are beginning to make connections with the children’s families.

Living Water was recently awarded its first-ever grant for the after-school program—$5,000 from a major founda-tion. Ormesher is hoping to expand the program to four afternoons a week rather than increase its size. There was a time, Ormesher said, when what she wanted most was to reach more kids. But her husband asked her: “Why go a quarter-inch deep and a mile wide when you could let the roots go deep and cover a smaller portion of land?”

Ormesher realized he was right. “To get to water,” she said, “you have to have deep roots.” ■

Meg E. Cox is a freelance writer and editor in Chicago. “Making a Difference” is a new column profiling congregations—of any size, budget, and denomination—that put arms and legs on the gospel. You can nominate a church at kristyn@esa-online.org.

Collaborating with the Spirit

Where are the ministries? This is what I wanted to know when our family began attending Living Water Community Church, a small Mennonite congrega-tion in Chicago’s Rogers Park neigh-borhood nine years ago.

Before moving to Rogers Park, we had attended Rock of Our Salvation Church on the city’s West Side, and I had worked at Circle Urban Ministries. The two form a church-parachurch part-nership that serves hundreds of people each week and is widely regarded as a leading model of faith-based commu-nity development.

I felt at home in our new congrega-tion because its core members were socially conscious people who had relo-cated to this city neighborhood to start the church, but I was perplexed because there seemed to be no outreach programs.

Then I heard about “Kayleen’s Boys.”Kayleen Michaelsen had come to

Rogers Park to work for Youth with a Mission. She was volunteering at a local pregnancy center when she met six boys who together hailed from three conti-nents—a microcosm of the neighbor-hood’s ethnic mix. Only 8 to 10 years old, the boys wore their house keys around their necks and spent their afternoons roaming the neighborhood. As they got to know the Youth with a Mission folks, they began to hang out in the unlikeliest of places: the waiting room of the pregnancy center where Michaelsen volunteered.

“Obviously they must have been bored to want to come in there, and they felt we were people they could trust,” Michaelsen remembers. She and her col-leagues kept the boys busy with art sup-plies, but she wished there were a better

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