"Security Threat Group" Embraces Jesus

For a number of years now our local jail has housed gang-involved inmates in segregated units to avoid run-ins with enemy gang members. At times though the normal stresses of incarceration combine with internal tensions within a gang, leading to fights between fellow homies. For nearly four months this summer and fall inmates from one particular gang where locked down often three to a cell, 24/7 as deterrent and punishment for fighting.

During these months they did not benefit from weekly Bible studies nor daily time out of their cells for recreation and meals. A few weeks ago I was able to meet with this group for Bible studies two Thursday nights in a row. These thirty-minute gatherings have been precious tasters of the Kingdom of God.

The first time we met together nearly the entire inmate population of the lower tier of the pod that housed these men attended. 15 or so guys shuffled in and took their seats on blue plastic chairs around our familiar circle. Many of these men I’d known for years. Matt and I made the rounds shaking everyone’s hand, warmly welcoming them before we formally began our meeting with a prayer.

I talked directly about their official label as an STG (Security Threat Group). I invited them to look at how Jesus and his disciples were also considered an STG. 

“Check this out you guys. Jesus himself was rejected and given the death penalty by the authorities, who considered him a security threat. Peter confronts the people about this here in Acts 3:14-15, right when he’s got their full attention after a man lame from birth has just been healed. Can someone read these verses for us?” I ask.

“God glorified his servant Jesus, the one whom you delivered over and disowned in the presence of Pilate, when he had decided to release Him,” one of the men reads.

“But you disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked for a murderer to be granted to you, but put to death the Prince of life, the one whom God raised from the dead, a fact to which we are witnesses. (Acts 3:14-15).

These men who’ve been shelved away in lockdown readily identify with the sting of rejection and the stigma of being an STG. They easily sympathize with Jesus, who Isaiah earlier described as “despised and rejected of men, and man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). They are moved by God’s acceptance of Jesus—the one rejected by the status quo.

I invite the men to go against the current of the world’s ongoing marginalization of Jesus, valuing him instead as the “living stone, rejected by men, but choice and precious in the sight of God” (1 Peter 2:5). 

I invite them to choose to receive him who the world did not recognize and his own people didn’t accept—and there’s no resistance. We end with prayers for everyone, focusing special attention on a man who sobbed as he recounted how his 15-year-old daughter had overdosed on heroine five days before.

The following week another colleague Mike and I were able to minister to this same group of inmates in a thirty-minute session that felt like heaven touching earth. 

Mike brought his guitar and I offered to pray for the 12-15 men while he sang a worship song over them. Mike sang with great tenderness as I made my way around the circle behind the men, gently placing a hand on their shoulder and praying. As I prayed I sensed an outpouring of divine love for the men that went far beyond words. By the time I made my way around the circle many of the men were wiping tears from their eyes. I sat down and expressed how I was sensing God’s huge heart for each of them.

“Can I say something?” asked a huge guy I didn’t remember ever meeting.

“Yeah go for it,” I said.

Humbly he recounted a violent crime he had committed and confessed that he had even beaten people up for pay. This led one of the gang leaders to share how he and many of the others had lots of people they hadn’t forgiven who they probably should forgive. The kindness of God seemed to be inciting a wave of repentance, which fed right into a few verses from Luke that hit home for me and the men in a fresh way.

I ask someone to read Jesus’ words in Luke 6:26-36.

As a particularly well-known local criminal read Jesus’ words it felt like they were highlighted and struck home with particular authority.

“But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you…. Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.”

The men were nodding at these most challenging words, and each nod looked like heart doors opening wider as the light of Christ flowed in like liquid medicine. Loving each other was a better alternative to fights and the seclusion of lockdown—but Jesus’ teaching offered more.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same,” the pod’s shot caller continued to a fully attentive audience. The codes of the street and of America’s legal system were being directly challenged.  

I explain that “credit” is the word charis, meaning grace, gift, benefit.

“As we move in the opposite spirit of enemy hate—choosing to instead love, bless, do good to and forgive we will receive real benefits from God. And this is something we can do right here, as long as there are still enemies to love and forgive” I continue, before the final verse is read.

“But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High” —an appealing prospect to people being punished, who themselves are desperate for acceptance into a new family and the Father’s embrace regardless of their attitude.

The final words “for he himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men” hit us all like a big, warm, unconditional hug for thugs, inviting Jesus’ call to an unheard of but strangely appealing warfare: “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

In the remaining five minutes or so before the guards come we lead the men in prayer, confessing our sins, receiving our forgiveness, forgiving ourselves, forgiving our enemies. I leave them with homework to continue the process, and it seems like we all leave having already tasted the grace, the reward for living as sons of the merciful Father… and abundant ongoing provision is available for the receiving.

Rediscovering identity & calling in a world of fear & division

Recent news has me reeling between outrage and grief: 84 people killed in Nice; police shootings of black men and subsequent killings of police in the USA; war and starvation in Nigeria; attacks in Orlando, Bagdad, Mogadishu, Istanbul, Ankara, Brussels, Paris, Los Angeles and so many other places. Insecurity and fear are on the rise, and apathy, anger and cynicism lurk. Now is the time for followers of Jesus to stay focused and remember who we are and what we’re about.

Those who receive Jesus and believe in his name are given authority to become children of God. New birth into God’s family does not happen through natural bloodline (race, ethnicity, nationality), human desire or decision (ideology, religion or democracy) but by grace through adoption by the Father (John 1:12-13). These words of Jesus’ prayer to the Father for his disciples ring deeply relevant now: “that they may be one even as we are”…“The world has hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world”… “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” “As you sent me into the world, I also have sent them into the world” (John 17:11, 14, 16-17).

In today’s world hatred and division are rampant. Nationalist movements are on the rise in Europe, North America and beyond, offering the promise of heightened security and well-being for limited beneficiaries through increasing defense, law-enforcement and controls: borders, surveillance, prison sentences, deportations and the like. The UK’s recent 52 to 48% vote to leave rather than stay in the EU and the United States’ current near fifty-fifty Democrat versus Republican split reveal some dangerous polarizations that Christians must avoid falling into. Rather we must be clear about our identity and agenda as Christ followers.

Jesus warned his disciples that lawlessness would increase and most people’s love would grow cold.” Jesus himself stated “the one who endures to the end will be saved. And this Gospel of the Kingdom must be preached for a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come” (see Matthew 24:12-14). So how do we rightly endure the increasing lawlessness and proclaim Jesus’ Kingdom in these turbulent times?

God calls people to not put their own homeland, family and individual interests first. God calls Abraham and his spiritual descendants to be a blessing to every family on the earth (Genesis 12:1-4). This call continues from Genesis to Revelation, with Jesus embodying God’s sacrificial love for the whole world (John 3:16).

Now is the time to connect with God’s perfect love that drives out all fear. Now we must deliberately receive—not a spirit of fear “but of power and love and self-control” (2 Tim. 1:7). Now is the time to heed Paul’s call to “not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2).

Gracie and I and our Tierra Nueva staff are seeing signs of hope and transformed life in the Skagit Valley and beyond. Every time we minister in jails or prisons we encounter people hungry for God and eager for change. We see people longing to step into their heavenly identity as God’s beloved sons and daughters. We often celebrate the surrender of the old identity for the new in baptism.

This past Sunday we baptized five people coming out of lives marked by lawlessness. People went under the waters of baptism in the frigid Skagit River, trading old identities for new life in Christ. Further training of new Christians and future missional workers regarding identity and mission are our highest priority in this season.

This past six months we have completed our first three (9-12-month-long) Certificates in Transformational Ministry at the Margins (CTMM) cohorts in Burlington, London and Seoul. Over 70 people finished our training, geared to strengthen existing ministry workers and prepare new ones for pioneer efforts to share the good news of God’s transforming love in Jesus (the Gospel of the Kingdom) to under-reached and unreached people.

Our CTMMs gather people hungry for deeper reflection and fellowship with like-minded people. In these trainings we seek to deliberately bring together Bible study and theological reflection, empowerment and gifts of the Holy Spirit and social justice/advocacy on behalf of the poor and marginalized.

The training consists of five strands, which are woven together over 9-12 months including three 3-4 day gatherings with distance-learning in between. These strands include:  God’s identity and mission and ours; healing & holistic liberation: Biblical foundations and practices; the place of advocacy, justice & peace-making in mission; Word on the street: preparing & leading transformational bible studies; and practical reflections on how this works in our lives and ministries.

In January we launched a new CTMM in Zimbabwe with 115 pastors and church leaders. This Fall we are starting four more cohorts, in London,Glasgow, Burlington and in Western Kenya. If you are interested in being further equipped to announce and live out the Good News of Jesus’ Kingdom in the face of today’s big challenges we encourage you consider joining one of these cohorts closest to you. Click on the links for more information and applications.

Households of Resistance and Hope in Honduras

Tierra Nueva’s (TN) focus both in Honduras and in the Skagit Valley is reaching people marginalized from society and church, the “lost sheep” of Jesus’ parable in Luke 15 as priority over the 99 already gathered ones. And yet we are seeing that safe, welcoming and nurturing “sheep pens” are essential—places to carry the ones found where they can be embraced, cared for, healed and empowered.

On a recent trip to Honduras I accompanied TN’s pastor David to villages and homes that he visits, and to our coffee farm that funds the ministry, supplying coffee to our Underground Coffee Project here, whose profits support ministry workers.

For years now David has focused on households as sheep pens, identifying “people of peace” as Jesus directed in Luke 10. We call these “households in transformation”, whose hosts welcome Jesus’ sent ones--- offering hospitality, receiving prayer for healing and the message shared about Jesus’ transforming love. 

David regularly visits a number of families, and is actively building community in places marked by extreme poverty and exclusion. I joined David to visit these households and to inaugurate a larger sheep-pen church in the town of Mal Paso. One afternoon we hiked up dirt roads that turned to trails to visit several homes on the edge of town that each included single mothers with children.

In the first home I met Antonia and her ten-year old daughter Vero (pictured below). Three or four other women, a handful of children and an older man named Juan Baptista were also gathered to meet us for coffee, a Bible study and prayer. The people shared challenges revealing how entrapped the poor can feel by local laws set up to protect the fragile environment.

Strictly-enforced rules govern the cutting of firewood to protect the forests as the majority of people cook over wood-fueled earthen stoves. Forest conserving efforts are urgent due to the southern pine bark beetle plague, which in the past year has ravaged half the pine forests in the country in what experts call an ecological catastrophe attributed to climate change. If someone’s rafters are termite-infested and ready to collapse, people are required to pay the mayor’s office per linear-foot for a two-day permit. This fee is nearly impossible to pay for the poor majority—like Antonia,  who works from 6am-1:30pm six days a week as a maid for a wealthier family, earning 1,500 Lempiras per month—that’s only $66.00!  A day-wage earner makes $5.50 a day—and the cost of living is high.

Making your own adobe blocks to build a house is only possible during the dry season. However, the mayor’s office prohibits the use of water for making adobes so there will be enough water to meet the villagers’ even more basic needs.  Consequently, Antonia and her neighbors must hike down to the river below town and haul sewage-contaminated water in buckets up the hill to make adobes. Antonia’s husband had left for the USA to work right before Vero’s birth ten years before and they haven’t heard from him since. So Antonia, like many of her neighbors, must fend for herself.

The Biblical text that came to mind to read with the people was the depiction of Pharaoh’s attempt to destroy Israelite baby boys and the women’s covert resistance in Exodus 1-2:10. I heard story after story of Honduran equivalents of Pharaoh’s death campaigns: assassinations, kidnappings, and men and women leaving the harsh conditions of Honduras and their families for “los caminos” (the roads taken by undocumented immigrants to North America).

Exodus begins with good news from the start, as we first read about the people of Israel’s exponential Spirit-infused multiplication in the aftermath of the death of Jacob and his sons in Egypt, and Pharaoh’s enslavement and increasingly harsh treatment of the people-- though multiplication means more mouths to feed.

The Honduran women and kids seemed intrigued by the Hebrew midwives Shiphra and Puah’s refusal to obey Pharaoh’s orders to kill Hebrew baby boys. Everyone laughed at the midwives outright lie to Pharaoh and crafty use of Egyptian prejudices to cover up their law breaking. “Because the Hebrew women are not as the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife can get to them.” Everyone seemed surprised and even delighted that God blessed the midwives with families for their non-cooperation and deception.

We read the story of how Pharaoh commands all Israelite baby boys to be throw into the Nile River, about Moses’ birth, his mother seeing his beauty, hiding him, and sending him downriver in a basket-- with Moses’ sister following to spy out the outcome and figure out a scheme to somehow interfere to save his life.

The people were still captivated as one of the children read about Pharaoh’s daughter spotting the basket, sending her servants to fetch it, opening the basket, seeing the baby boy crying and having compassion on him—with full knowledge that he was one of the Hebrew’s children. Pharaoh’s daughter’s disobedience of her father’s edict and deliberate aiding and abetting a fugitive, Moses’ sister’s sneaky offer to find a Hebrew woman to nurse the child for Pharaoh’s daughter (Moses’ very mother) and Pharaoh’s daughter’s adoption of Moses bring us to a final summarizing moment.

God is not on the side of the powers of death as some might think who see God as all-powerful sovereign. God is 100% about the preservation of life, saving the most vulnerable, threatened people. God works through the weak and unsuspecting even as they use crafty and even outright deceptive and illegal means and blesses them for their resistance. So God wouldn’t punish them should they sneak some water for adobes or a fallen pine tree for a rafter.

People’s faces were shining as we sat around with our bibles, pondering women’s resistance triggered by simple observation and compassion. Suddenly I saw a link I had never noticed between the seeing-inspired resistance of Moses’ mother, sister and Pharaoh’s daughter and Jesus himself. I invited people to read Matthew 9:26-38.

“Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. “Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest.”

As Antonia read this verse with her neighbors there on the hillside, Jesus’ caring gaze as the Good Shepherd suddenly felt irresistible. I asked the people if there were feeling drawn to Jesus, who sees us and has compassion on us and wants to recruit shepherds to go out to seek and find.

The women, kids, and Juan Baptista all wanted to pray with David and I to accept Jesus and surrender our lives to him. They all wanted to be part of his mission to save lives like the women in Exodus, and to find distressed and dispirited sheep for his harvest. I saw some of the kids with their palms out as we continued to pray for those who wanted to receive the Holy Spirit.

At this point we asked if anyone had any special needs for prayer. Antonia mentioned that her daughter Vero had skipped school that day because she didn’t want to miss being prayed for. Vero had lost much of the eyesight in her left eye and had lost ten pounds over the past few weeks. David and I prayed for Vero and she cried gently, telling us later that she felt deeply touched by God.

The next day we traveled to the town of Mal Paso and gathered with sixty or so villagers to inaugurate our first actual Tierra Nueva church building in Honduras. Every other week Antonia, Vero and their neighbors pile into the back of the TN pickup and travel the 40 minutes to Mal Paso to gather with others like themselves in the larger sheep pen. Just a week before David opened the new church building to host a service for an especially marginalized participant in our faith community there who died of AIDS—something that he says would never happen in local churches.

Please keep David and Tierra Nueva’s ministry in Honduras in your prayers. I have just learned that Vero’s blood tests show Leukemia. So please join us in praying for her full healing. To learn more about Tierra Nueva Honduras, click here. To support click here.

Tierra Nueva’s The People’s Seminary is offering year-long Certificates in Transformational Ministry at the Margins beginning in the Fall in London, Glasgow and Burlington, Washington. Click on the locations for more information and applications.

Seen and Acknowledged

Last Friday Gracie and I flew to San Francisco to visit friends and speak in a church. From the airport we made our way to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and took the light rail into the city. Once comfortably installed in our seats I pulled out my laptop and started working on a talk for the next day on reading the Bible for personal and social transformation.

A young man started shouting loudly further up the train, a common occurrence in subways in Paris where I’d been a few weeks earlier. Vagabond performers often board the metro with a short act and make rounds with a hat for donations. Homeless people or gypsies regularly beg, sometimes after some kind of speech—and people mostly ignore them. I was able to tune the voice out so as to concentrate on my presentation. Other passengers had their faces in newspapers or books. Most had ear buds securely in place to shut out the distracting sounds. 

The voice was getting louder and increasingly agitated but very articulate. It broke through my concentration in blasts, disrupting my focus:

“Look at all of you, hiding behind your laptops and newspapers, shutting me out with your ear buds and iPhones. Why can’t you just acknowledge me by looking at me? I am not going away, and neither are the 10,000 other homeless people here in San Francisco who suffer on the streets. All of the homeless shelters are filled and I have no place to sleep tonight.“

His voice grew shriller and more hostile as he made his way down train towards us. I could feel other passengers discomfort and annoyance. I found myself wondering for a moment what I’d do if he got right in my face. I even pondered whether he might be the type who could pull out a gun. At this point I hadn’t even looked over at him but was still buried in my laptop, using my café-sitting skills to tune him out.

“Do you realize how painful it is to be homeless and have people ignore you like you don’t even exist?” He continued like a prophet, piercing through my defenses.

“It hurts to be treated like you’re invisible. I am a person just like you people.  But look, right now not one of you will even look up and make eye contact with me. Can’t somebody simply acknowledge my existence?”  

Suddenly I felt compelled to close my laptop and respond to him in some way. I got up and made my way over to him as he stood in the closed doorway of the moving train, nearing the end of his tirade. When he stopped I tapped him on the shoulder and spoke:

“Sir, I want you to know that I am listening to you and am deeply moved by what you are saying. I am sad that you feel so ignored and rejected and can see that you are in a lot of pain. You are getting through to me and I want to thank you for sharing your feelings.”

He looked up stunned and said: “Whoa, I’m not used to anyone responding to me. Nobody ever does this man.”

“What’s your name?” I asked. “Sean” which he pronounced seen. I then told him that God notices him all the time and knows his pain. I asked him if I could pray a prayer of blessing over him.

“Yeah, you can pray for me,” he said. “But would you be willing to help me out with a meal first?” he asked.

“Gladly,” I responded, and we agreed to meet at Civic Center station, where he said his favorite restaurant was located. Sean excused himself to finish his speech, and I sat down beside Gracie, noticing glances from fellow passengers who looked slightly relieved as he continued in a less agitated voice.

Sean met us as we stepped off the BART, and we followed him out of the station and up the stairs to the street level.

We had noticed when walking beside him that he shuffled along gingerly in oversized unlaced basketball shoes. 

“What’s wrong with your feet?” Gracie asked. “Are you in pain?”

He told us that he had severed a tendon but that both of his feet were messed up from break dancing.

“There’s my favorite restaurant,” he said, pointing to Burger King across the street. He motioned for us to wait there against a storefront on the sidewalk for a moment, but I said that we really needed to be on our way soon.

“No, no. Just wait for six seconds,” he insisted.

Sean walked into the flow of pedestrians with his right hand out, gently saying “excuse me ma’am, excuse me sir” a few times to whom ever was before him. We watched as pedestrians avoided him without acknowledging him in any noticeable way, like he was invisible. People consistently skirted him, looking down or in the opposite direction with expert ignoring. 

Sean came back to us and said, “see the attitude that we homeless people have to deal with?” Gracie and I were amazed as we followed him across the cross walk to Burger King.  

“We all need to be acknowledged, which is exactly what people are supposed to do towards God,” he commented, referring to a Scripture that I later located as Proverbs 3:6. “In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths.”

We waited in line at Burger King and two separate homeless men approached Sean, asking him for something. He ordered and we sat down on some stairs heading up to a closed off seating area. At this point I asked him if we could pray for him or if he’d prefer to wait until his food came.

“Actually if you could pray for me before your next meal, instead, that would suit me just fine, if that’s okay” he said. “But would you mind if I prayed for the two of you?” he asked.

We accepted his offer, and putting a hand on each of us he began to loudly pray. “Our Father in heaven, mighty God, I believe. But help my unbelief!” He went on praying a long prayer quieting down as he became increasingly focused. “…Lord bless this couple with a happy marriage and a long life!” were some of his final words before a strong “amen.”

As soon as Sean finished his prayer Gracie said:

“It seems wrong that we leave you without praying for your feet. You are in pain. Can’t we just pray a short prayer for you?” she asked.

Sean resisted for a moment but then agreed to let us pray. I put my hands on his shoes and we spoke healing to his feet in Jesus’ name. We blessed him with God’s peace and protection. He was visibly moved. He got up to get his order and we headed out together towards our next cable-car like bus—the Muni (SF Municipal Railway).

As we crossed the street towards the Muni stop Gracie asked him whether he was noticing any improvement in his feet. “I won’t lie,” said Sean. “I do not feel the same as before.”

“Well then we must thank God and pray some more,” said Gracie as we reached the other side of the street.

We prayed for him and he received his healing in Jesus’ name. At this point Sean’s demeanor changed. He looked awestruck and we sensed the Holy Spirit touching us all in a deeper way. We said our goodbyes and watched him shuffle off a little faster with what looked like a new lightness in his steps.

As we made our way to the underground Muni stop we felt a lightness as it seemed God was directing our path. We felt inspired and even recruited by Sean to see and acknowledge other individuals, feeling carried along by the flow of God’s love.

A tall homeless man selling newspapers showed us where to buy tickets. We noticed that his hands were severely twisted and learned he was in a lot of pain from arthritis. He gladly accepted prayer for healing and we continued our journey to our friends’ house, wondering what other adventures this already inspired weekend would hold.

Announcement: This September and October The People’s Seminary is offering three new upcoming Certificate in Transformational Ministry at the Margins cohorts in London, Glasgow and Burlington.  Click on the sites for more information and applications.

Following the Resurrected One Now

I have been moved this Easter by Mark’s account of Jesus’ resurrection—by a detail I had never noticed and a renewed understanding of a well-know verse.

When the first two witnesses to the empty tomb (both Marys) arrive to find the “extremely large” stone had been removed from the tomb, they enter the tomb and meet a young man sitting at the right, wearing a white robe. He tells them something that surprised me: “do not be amazed!” He then goes on to say matter-of-factly:

“You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified. He has risen; he is not here (in the place of death, of commemoration); behold, here is the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’”

I looked up the Greek verb translated “amaze” and found out it can mean “to alarm thoroughly, to terrify or to be struck with amazement.” It seems the messenger was all about them not letting terror demobilize them or amazement mystify them. The Kingdom of God must continue. Jesus is alive and already going ahead to meet them in Galilee—where he will send them out to continue his mission.

But the women don’t heed the angel, but flee from the tomb. Terror and amazement grip them. They say nothing to anyone because they were afraid.  When Mary Magdalene is then met by the resurrected Jesus and then tells the disciples, they refused to believe he was alive and had been seen by her.

Fear, amazement and unbelief were the major obstacles to the movement continuing—and when Jesus himself meets the eleven he reprimands them for their unbelief and hardness of heart—because they refused to believe the humble witnesses who had seen him after his resurrection. 

As I am now considering what is required by these first Christians I can see that things haven’t changed much since these first days. Fear, unbelief and hardness of heart block the weak (but powerful) steps of radical faith required of us today.

These first believers, like we ourselves, had to step out in vulnerability to follow Jesus, who is described as having been received into heaven to sit at God’s right hand. But he worked with them as they went out, and will work with us now too.

“And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them, and confirmed the word by the signs that followed” (Mark 16:19).

In late March Gracie and I were in Siberia teaching a course on holistic liberation together with Mike Neelley, our son Isaac and two friends from Paris. During the first session with 40 Russian pastors and leaders I spoke on Isaiah 59, interpreting an oft-misunderstood notion that sin separates God from us. 

As I was speaking I remembered an example from years ago in Skagit County Jail, where I saw the Holy Spirit bring relief to four inmates who were not yet Christians. I described to my Russian audience (nearly all ex-addicts and many ex-offenders) how when looking at a particular inmate I saw in my minds eye a metal bar coming down atop his head. When I asked him and the others if any had been hit on their heads with a metal bar, four inmates had raised their hands. I had prayed for them regarding trauma and head injuries and they had been deeply touched.

As I was wrapping up my teaching in Siberia I wondered why I had brought up that particular example. I decided to ask if anyone in the audience had been hit on their head with a metal bar or wooden bat. A number of people raised their hands, and many more came up for prayer. There were a number of people healed, and many forgave those who had struck them at different times of their lives.  One pastor had lost vision in his right eye due to a such an injury. After receiving prayer his vision was completely restored. God confirmed the words with signs, and we witnessed this and it filled us with joy.

Jesus is no longer dead but alive and goes ahead of us to meet us. Let us resist any fear or amazement that demobilizes, and unbelief and hardness of heart that blocks. Let us step into Jesus’ ministry and make it our own with expectancy, re-reading and prayerfully considering his instructions to disciples at the end of each Gospel (Mark 16:15-18; Matthew 28:18-20; Luke 24:46-49).

Warming our hearts towards immigrants and refugees

A hardening of attitudes toward immigrants and refugees is increasingly noticeable in Europe and North America of late. Terrorist attacks in France and incidents in Germany have instilled fear of foreigners. Even countries traditionally friendly to immigrants are tightening their borders. Right-wing movements are on the rise everywhere and are calling for harsh measures. Some American politicians are demanding the building of bigger walls and mass deportations. How are we to think and respond?

I am convinced from past experience that deliberately moving toward people, in search of understanding, is a critical first response. I traveled from London to Calais (France) in mid-January and witnessed the desperation of thousands of people marooned in the “Jungle” on the edge of the English Channel while seeking entry into the UK.

An English friend from Christian International Peace Service, who regularly visits residents of the “Jungle,” guided me through makeshift shelters past lines of plastic latrines. We were on our way to a meeting with leaders from the Somali, Afghan, Ethiopian and other communities where problems regarding food distribution and the impending demolition by French authorities of a portion of the camp were being discussed.
I was struck by the Somali and Afghan leaders’ amazing hospitality.

“Have a seat, sit down right there,” they stated, pointing to rickety chairs as if they were thrones. “Would you like some tea or some coffee?” they insisted.

What grace, what dignity! Would that we would express such hospitality! These were not victims needing pity but people taking responsibility for their communities and families—after having braved great perils to make their way through war zones, refugee camps, and across seas as scouts to find a place of security for their families.

I was stunned by how well the different national groups had apparently organized themselves in this squatter village of some 3,500. There were sections of the camp housing Syrians, Iraqis, Iranians, Kurds, Somalis, Ethiopians, Eritreans, Sudanese and others—with stores, a barbershop and cafés. We drank sweet black tea in a makeshift café full of Iranian men, followed by another meeting over tea with Ethiopians followed by tea and baklava in a rustic Afghan tent restaurant. Yet despair and agitation were also palpable.

I met a man from Eritrea outside the door of the makeshift library, “Jungle Books,” which held dictionaries and novels in the languages of the camp’s primary residents. I asked him how he was, and his honest response still haunts me. 

“Are we human beings? Are we human beings?” he said, gesturing toward the sprawl of blue plastic tarps and muddy trails through the camp. “And this?” he gestured with disgust. “We have come here for this?” 
He told me how he’d left a desperate situation in his homeland with hopes of a new life, which was so obviously blocked before him by UK government immigration policies.

I asked him if I could pray for him, and he declined, stating that he was Orthodox. I told him I had great respect for Orthodox Christians, and this moved him enough that he accepted my prayers.

Most of the camp residents resist any contact with French authorities, not wanting to be processed outside of the UK, their final destination. Yet now France is warning that the camp will soon be demolished and people will have to leave. But where will they go? France claims they will deport many to their countries of origin. Yet there are many unaccompanied children present in the camp and others who most certainly would be in grave danger if returned home.

The movement of millions of people from impoverished countries and war zones into Europe is creating a lot of fear and anxiety. People of faith must resist attempts of politicians and the media to incite fear or false compassion. Followers of Jesus are called to face people and issues with open eyes and compassionate hearts. Jesus warns in Matthew 24:12 that in later days “because lawlessness is increased, most people’s love will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.”

What is Jesus calling his followers to endure? I wonder. It seems Jesus is calling those who follow him to endure the lawlessness without letting their love grow cold. It is the one who endures without their heart growing cold who will be saved. So how do we endure in these perilous times?

I have been inspired in my readings of the Gospels to see people and problems the way Jesus sees them—with a heart of limitless and practical compassion for the masses.

“Seeing the people, he felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36).

Jesus modeled and invited a Kingdom-of-God governmental strategy, mobilizing his followers into direct action. “Then He said to His disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore, beg the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest’” (Matthew 9:37-38). There is certainly an unprecedented opportunity to directly show Christ’s love to vulnerable people from many unreached nations who are right now on our very doorsteps.

When 5,000 were hungry after listening to Jesus’ teaching in a remote place, he told his disciples: “You give them something to eat.” Jesus himself multiplied their limited loaves and fish, distributing provision through his disciple colleagues, expanding their and our imaginations regarding how we are to think and act toward people in need.
The source of Jesus’ compassion is his and our Father’s tender love and compassion, poured out by the Holy Spirit as a free gift to those who ask. As we receive for ourselves the Father’s free gift of grace and boundless affection, we will be enabled to live in the security of our heavenly status as God’s daughters and sons. It is from this place of security that we must respond to those whom God puts before us or calls us toward.

Our heavenly immigration status makes us “strangers and aliens” here on earth, and this identity must trump our earthly identities. Being committed to “on earth as it is in heaven” will put as at odds with the realism of this world—and yet the higher realism of Jesus’ Kingdom must be our standard. Dear friend, let’s step further and deeper into a renewed prophetic imagination for these times, guided by Scripture and God’s abiding Spirit.

"The Poor Have the Gospel Preached to Them"

My own calling into Jesus’ mission to announce good news to the poor, release to the  prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind and freedom to the oppressed has been re-affirmed in recent months, with special emphasis on equipping and mobilizing people towards the not yet reached.

My calling to pursue graduate studies in theology in France happened in the midst of an intense period of leading regular Bible studies with poor and minimally-educated peasants in Honduras. I was continually inspired by Jesus’ teaching ministry in the Gospels, which took place in fields, villages, and seashores as well as along the road, and in homes. Jesus’ passion was that “the poor have the Gospel preached to them” (Luke 7:22), and that inspired my conversational search for good news in Scripture with people outside of church settings. After a number of years we began to feel tired and in need of input ourselves.

How could we grow in our effectiveness in bringing the Gospel to the poor as Jesus did? Jesus offers himself, God’s beloved Son, rich wisdom from heaven to the broken world in his self-emptying love (Philippians 2). We wanted to contemplate these mysteries and receive more in-depth training, somehow bringing the best we could find to those often considered the least.

I currently minister regularly in jail and prison and here in our Tierra Nueva faith community, yet our recent Certificates in Transformational Ministry at the Margins  (CTMM) have been mostly offered in more advantaged places (Washington State, London and Seoul)—though attendees are mostly ministry workers serving the excluded. In October I told God of my desire to train ministry leaders in places of greater deprivation. Within a few weeks I had received two invitations to offer our CTMM in Kenya, and invites to Nigeria, Zimbabwe, South Africa, and to minister in prisons in North Carolina and London.

This January Gracie and I attended a five-day listening prayer retreat on Robben Island, organized by a Cape Town-based ministry called The Warehouse. Robben Island was the site of an infamous prison used by the South African governments during apartheid times to house political prisoners—including Nelson Mandela, Robert Sobukwe and countless others. Robben Island is now a museum with tour buses bringing groups around the island six days a week.

Our group of about 50 ministry workers and activists from across Africa and other continents stayed in the once minimum-security prison unit with bars and razor wire still intact, now converted to host groups in a still rustic setting near beaches occupied with African Penguins and nesting Oyster Catchers.

On the second day we broke up into groups of twelve and each went on walking tours of key sites on the island: the leper cemetery, the lime quarry where prisoners did forced labor, the maximum security prison, the home where activist Robert Sobukwe lived under house arrest and was kept from speaking to anyone for years.

I was moved while we were visiting the lime quarry to learn that inmates shared their knowledge with each other as they worked, turning this forced labor site into an underground university where they practiced “each one teach one.”

While visiting the now-empty maximum-security prison I was deeply affected as I read captions in many of the cells describing the lives of the inmates who had done time there.

As I stood and contemplated the cell where Nelson Mandela spent 18 years of his life I found myself overwhelmed by the gravity of the many years people spent there and continue to spend the world over suffering the cruel and unusual punishment of confinement. I was filled with hope to see that all these cells were now empty-- reminding me of a vision and prayer I’ve had of Skagit County Jail being completely empty of inmates. Nelson Mandela emerged from 30 years in prison a skilled statesman leading South Africa into a new era with great wisdom and tact.

After our group left I stood in a long corridor of the empty cell-block, and then walked slowly along, looking into each cell. I imagined a man in every cell and put my hand through the bars, grasping an imaginary hand in a gesture of solidarity. Suddenly it was like I saw all the cell doors popping open and men with heads held high, looking somber but confident, walking out one-by-one to freedom. Just then I heard a voice in my head: “I want you to write a training curriculum to raise up prisoners as pastors and leaders—agents of transformation.”

This is something I’ve been called to do for quite some time—to put together a curriculum for leaders on the margins, a module-by-module discipleship and leadership development course that can be used in prisons but also outside. The call felt re-affirmed and strong. I walked into the yard and found a member of our group who from Zimbabwe. He had spent time in prison, suffered torture and now works as a human rights lawyer. He laid hands on me and prayed for me there in the prison courtyard, and I have been pondering this project ever since.

After Robben Island Gracie and I made our way to Zimbabwe via Pietermaritzburg, where we offered the first module of our Certificate in Transformational Ministry at the Margins to over100 pastors and leaders—all of whom serve impoverished communities with increasingly run-down infrastructures and unemployment as high as 90%. 

We felt deeply encouraged by our time, witnessing unusual humility and spiritual hunger, visible in an eagerness to learn, openness to the Holy Spirit and a passion to communicate good news to the poor. We will likely return to offer the next module of our CTMM and are in conversations with others in Kenya and Congo about potential cohorts there. We appreciate your prayers for wisdom and clear direction to further develop our training programs, to recruit and raise up more trainers and respond to recent invitations in other countries.

Note: The People’s Seminary is offering Certificates in Transformational Ministry in the following locations in 2016.

·      Glasgow, April 21-23, and Jersey, September 17-19,  see www.tierranueva-europe.org or write info@tierranueva-europe.org

·      Burlington, Washington, October 5-8, write tps@tierra-nueva.org and see www.thepeoplesseminary.org