Archives For pastor

1. Pastoral responsibility in immigrant-sending countries
M. Daniel Carroll R., an Old Testament scholar at Denver Seminary and author of Christians at the Border (which I’m thinking I ought to re-read and review soon), shares some reflections on immigration after returning from a recent trip to Guatemala where he participated in discussions about the role of churches and pastors in countries that traditionally send immigrants. This snippet has huge implications:

There is an appreciation of the fact that migration is a global phenomenon that is substantially rooted in global economics and labor demands. Migration can only be slowed if there are jobs and suitable environments in the sending countries. These are sociopolitical and economic challenges for each country, but they also are pastoral and theological challenges to the churches: What is the role of Christians and the churches to make these countries a more human place? How to make believers aware of how God is interested in every dimension of human life and how Christian mission should impact these, too.

2. Cuban dissident Oswaldo Payá eulogized
Yoani Sanchez, a prominent blogger in Cuba, eulogizes her fellow dissident Oswaldo Payá, who died in a car accident last weekend (HT Brian Dijkema):

No one should die before reaching their dreams of freedom. With the death of Oswaldo Payá (1952 – 2012), Cuba has suffered a dramatic loss for its present and an irreplaceable loss for its future. It was not just an exemplary man, a loving father and a fervent Catholic who stop breathing yesterday, Sunday, but also an irreplaceable citizen for our nation. His tenacity shone forth since I was a teenager, when he chose not to hide the scapulars — as so many others did — and instead publicly acknowledged his faith.

3. How the Internet changes how we discuss things
Jake Belder had a post this week quoting Alastair Roberts on the ways the Internet has changed how we discuss things. He offers six thought-provoking suggestions, which get me thinking again of Flickering Pixels by Shane Hipps, and long before him, the pioneering work of Marshall McLuhan (of “the medium is the message” fame).

4. Evangelicalism in Brazil
In last week’s Repaso I included a story about the recent “March for Jesus” in Brazil. Felipe Pena at Americas Quarterly has a nice summary of evangelicalism in the country, based on a recent report and touching on various aspects of Brazilian life. All in all, it helps to put the march in proper context:

[I]n many countries, Evangelicalism is most popular among those who are starting to break out of poverty. In Brazil, however, many of the poor have discovered in Evangelicalism a sense of collective identity. For those Brazilians marginalized by society, Evangelicalism is a framework within which they can reassert their rights.

5. Mining’s impact on health in Guatemala
Allan Lissner, who provided the excellent photos that accompanied my 2010 cover story on mining in Guatemala, has a new photo essay on his website about a recent health tribunal in San Miguel Ixtahuacan, the town at the center of the mining controversy in Guatemala.

6. Reducing poverty in Central America
The Center for Global Development, a D.C.-based think tank focused on solutions to global poverty, has a new report called Competitiveness in Central America: The Road to Sustained Growth and Poverty Reduction, which outlines what donors and the private sector can do to help Central America, offering recommendations in five main areas. Here’s a teaser blurb:

Central American countries have made a lot of progress in the past decade stabilizing their economies and improving their business climates. By doing so, they have weathered the most recent crises relatively well, but they are still host to certain vulnerabilities and weakness: per-capita growth rates lag behind the rest of Latin America; poverty and inequality rates remain worrisomely high; and some signs are emerging that macroeconomic and democratic stability are weakening.

Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!

[Photo credit: David Rochkind, "Train headed north with potential migrants to the US in southern Mexico" via gozamos.com]

Before it is anything else, the story told in the book of Exodus is a story of God acting in history to free his people from captivity in Egypt. It’s a story of God’s faithfulness to a not-so-faithful people.

In that story, however – that true story – there are lessons to be learned for those of us who have never been made to make literal bricks in a literal Egypt. Dr. Chuck DeGroat, author of Leaving Egypt: Finding God in the Wilderness Places (Square Inch), writes in the book’s introduction, “I have come to believe that the Exodus story deeply reflects all our stories.”

Drawing on his experience as a pastor and therapist in San Francisco, DeGroat meditates on the ways in which the journey out of Egypt and the journey out of addictions have powerful parallels, giving us helpful language with which to speak about enslavements of various kinds and the pervasive guilt and shame that accompany them.

The book is divided into four sections, representing the four stages in the journey – from Egypt to Sinai and on to the wilderness before finally coming home. While Egypt represents slavery, it also represents the status quo. This admittedly holds some appeal, given the dangers that await us in the wilderness. No wonder some never leave, unable to trust God or others in their quest for freedom.

Those of us who’ve been led out of Egypt, however, discover that the journey has only just begun. We find ourselves in Sinai – not the final destination by any means, but the place where we’re given our new identity as a free people who are called to live accordingly.

Charged with a whole new way of living we soon enter the wilderness where, as DeGroat puts it, “we’re faced with our worst fears and our greatest possibilities.” You don’t get through the wilderness in a day, and you don’t get through it unchanged.

On the other side of it all, after Egypt and Sinai and the wilderness, home awaits us: “a place where God smiles on us, dwells in us, and embraces us.” While our ultimate arrival is still to come, and though Egypt keeps pulling us back, we’re invited even now into the life of the kingdom.

There’s always the danger in a book like this of taking historical accounts and turning them into mere self-help material for people who in many ways enjoy a kind of freedom brick-makers in Egypt could hardly imagine. Fortunately, Chuck DeGroat mostly avoids these pitfalls by pointing throughout to the unchanging character of God in the face of all kinds of bondage. While as God’s people we continue to squander our freedom, turning again and again to lesser gods, the God who saved his people then stands ready to save his people still.

This review originally appeared at the Englewood Review of Books. If you’re inclined to read books electronically, you should know that Leaving Egypt is available at Amazon for a limited time for 99 cents!

1. Why American Evangelicals love the British
Molly Worthen has an interesting post at the new Religion & Politics blog (tagline: “fit for polite company”) about people like us and why we’re so hung up on guys like C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and John Stott. We Americans apparently have an intellectual inferiority complex, for one thing. Whether you buy all her arguments or not, it’s a good read. Here’s a bit of what she has to say about Stott:

John Stott represented British evangelical moderation at its very best. He spent much of his career advocating dialogue among evangelicals, Catholics, liberals and charismatic Christians. He recognized early on that the center of gravity in global Christianity had shifted to the developing world, and worked to break down the ethnocentric mindset of evangelicals in Europe and North America and convince them that preaching the Word and fighting for social justice were two sides of the same coin… Just as Tolkien and Lewis baptized the world of myth, magic and fantasy for evangelicals whose churches had long proscribed such things as demonic, John Stott helped evangelicals recover a capacity for compassion and civil conversation that was lost in the fog of the culture wars.

2. Doxology and desire
Sandra McCracken makes amazing music and she also happens to write beautiful essays, like this one at Art House America:

So with each passing day, I am becoming more attuned to the particular DNA I have from each of my parents — biology and theology — pushing me forward on the journey of conservation. I might be unqualified, but everybody has to start somewhere. Rather than burying my head in the sand like I am inclined to do, I have to lean into my discomfort. I’d rather deepen my longing, not assuage it. And I look to the great hope that all things will one day be restored and renewed. I want to honor and care for God’s creation not because of a marketing team pulling on my checkbook, but because of a doxological pull that tugs on my conscience.

3. Pastors and their people
I’ve decided I want to read everything Rich Mouw has written. I first read this and then this and, most recently, this. In a recent essay at Faith & Leadership, hosted by Duke Divinity School, he writes about the gap between the worlds in which pastors and their congregants live. He describes a conversation with a successful businessman who lamented the fact that his pastor didn’t understand the challenges he faced day to day:

I have thought much about that conversation. If I were that man’s pastor, what could I do to speak more directly to his felt needs as a businessperson? One thing I would not do is to preach detailed sermons about economics. My lunch partner made it clear that he was not asking for that kind of thing, and I agree with him. What this person was asking for was more sensitivity to the kinds of complexities he faces on a daily basis — a reasonable expectation. And his pastor could respond to this need in helpful ways without becoming an expert on corporate finance.

4. Kristof and Hybels have a chat
Last Sunday, New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof was interviewed by Bill Hybels at Willow Creek Church about oppression against women and opportunities to right those wrongs. It’s a fascinating conversation, and the 40 minute video is (for the moment, at least) here. If you’re interested, here also is my review of Kristof’s book on the subject.

5. Wisdom & Wonder mindmap
Fellow Kuyper nerds will be interested to see this amazing mindmap by Steve Bishop of the first four chapters of Wisdom & Wonder: Common Grace in Science & Art. It all makes sense now.

6. Tom covers Bob
Some of you may have seen this already, but during a stop in Nashville this week, N.T. Wright picked up a guitar and played a Bob Dylan song, citing its “wonderful biblical imagery” and its solid eschatology. What a treat (though, admittedly, this might just be evidence of my own Anglophilia).

Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!

[Photo credit: a man lights his pipe and enjoys a pint at the Eagle and Child, where The Inklings met to plot goodness - via amazon.com]

1. Give me your tired, your poor…
The Statue of Liberty turns 125 today, and a New York Times blog post has the fascinating story of how it became an enduring immigrant-beckoning symbol:

Emma Lazarus’s poem only belatedly became synonymous with the Statute of Liberty, whose 125th birthday as a gift from France will be celebrated on Friday by the National Park Service. Lazarus’s “New Colossus,” with its memorable appeal to “give me your tired, your poor,” was commissioned for a fund-raising campaign by artists and writers to pay for the statue’s pedestal. But while the poem was critically acclaimed — the poet James Russell Lowell wrote that he liked it “much better than I like the Statue itself” because it “gives its subject a raison d’être which it wanted before quite as much as it wants a pedestal” — it was not even mentioned at the dedication ceremony.

2. “Latinos are saving American Christianity”
NPR’s Barbara Bradley Hagerty had an interesting report for Morning Edition on the rise of evangelical and Pentecostal churches among Latinos in the US, focusing on one Assemblies of God congregation in Chicago:

It’s a truism that 11 o’clock on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week. But the people streaming into New Life’s sanctuary are black, white and Asian, as well as Hispanic. Most, like de Jesus, are second-generation Latinos. And three of four services are in English. Indeed, much of the church’s growth is fueled by Hispanic-Americans shedding the faith of their parents. De Jesus says he can spot them every time.

3. Foster care (or kidnapping?) of Native American kids
Thanks to my friend Jared Hankee for sharing the link to an NPR investigative series on foster care and adoption issues in South Dakota involving Native American children. It seems like a very sad situation and a very complicated issue, but one worth learning about:

“Cousins are disappearing; family members are disappearing,” said Peter Lengkeek, a Crow Creek Tribal Council member. “It’s kidnapping. That’s how we see it.” State officials say they have to do what’s in the best interest of the child, but the state does have a financial incentive to remove the children. The state receives thousands of dollars from the federal government for every child it takes from a family, and in some cases the state gets even more money if the child is Native American. The result is that South Dakota is now removing children at a rate higher than the vast majority of other states in the country. Native American families feel the brunt of this. Their children make up less than 15 percent of the child population, yet they make up more than half of the children in foster care.

4. Cultivating the imagination
Earlier this week I blogged about being related to Eugene Peterson. I’ve linked to interviews and articles about him before (here, here, and here). But I just think he’s worth listening to, so here we go again, this time in an interview with Response about art and imagination in the life of a pastor:

From artists I learned never to look at just the surface of a person, but to look for the interior life, to consider what I know of their past. An exterior is never just an exterior. In our culture, we’re trained to focus on the exterior, for instance, through advertising and publicity. Being present to a person long enough to start sensing that they’re never just themselves, they’re their parents, their grandparents, their kids, their neighbors – all of that becomes part of their story. Artists help me do that, because they are attuned to the interior life. I think it’s interesting that Karl Barth, the theologian who has influenced me most, was mostly influenced by Mozart. Mozart was a theme in his life. I think he learned a lot about writing theology by listening to Mozart.

5. “Fly-by-night” gold mining (and resistance) in Guatemala
Mike Allison, a professor at the University of Scranton and one of the best bloggers on Central American politics, passed along a link to a paper on the expansion of the gold mining industry in Guatemala which I hadn’t seen before. It was published in the Bulletin of Latin American Research; here’s the abstract:

Over the past two decades, the gold mining industry has increased its activity in Latin America. Growing contestation and conflict around gold mining projects have accompanied this shift. This article draws from the case of Guatemala, where metal exploration has grown by 1,000 per cent since 1998, to illustrate how the proliferation of small ‘junior’ firms – together with neoliberal investment policies and suitability of mineralisation – set the stage for fly-by-night gold mining and, therefore, intense resistance from host communities to mineral development.

6. Tell Obama to help stop gun smuggling to Mexico
We all know about the terrible violence that’s been consuming Mexico in recent years — 40,000 killed in five years — but for many of us, our concern stops with keeping it from spilling across the border into the US. It’s time to deal with the fact that the vast majority of weapons used in drug-related crimes in Mexico come from north of the Rio Grande. The Washington Office on Latin America is urging President Obama to take concrete steps to stop it. Please sign the petition here.

Repaso is intended as a thought-provoking compilation of news and commentary from the past week related to the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As always, I welcome your thoughts on any of the links and ideas in this roundup!

I’ve long been a fan of Eugene H. Peterson. Most people know him as “The Message guy”, for better or worse, but for decades he’s been writing rich, stirring books on what he calls “spiritual theology.” A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, a book on Christian discipleship with a title re-appropriated from Nietzsche, of all people, is one worth reading again and again. That’s just one of some 30 books he’s written. But it was his work as a pastor in suburban Baltimore for nearly 30 years that has defined his life vocationally. That’s the subject of his new book, The Pastor: A Memoir. It’s a wonderful book for anyone who is a pastor, has a pastor, or has opinions about pastors. That’s most of us.

Peterson’s writing is what endeared him to me in the first place, but I must admit there was an added element of intrigue when I discovered that Eugene H. Peterson’s middle name is Hoiland. Then I learned that he was born in Stanwood, a small town in Washington state where my grandfather Theol Hoiland served as a pastor and where my dad lived for a bit as a kid. Peterson’s new memoir fills in some more blanks in our shared family tree. Though Peterson’s father was Swedish, his mother was Norwegian, and her maiden name was Hoiland. Her parents, Eugene’s maternal grandparents, arrived in the United States in the early 1900s, coming from Stavanger, the part of Norway where my ancestors also originated. The Hoilands of Stavanger: Eugene’s ancestors and mine.

So what specifically does Peterson have to say about these Hoilands? Well, he refers to two of them in detail: his grandfather Andre and his uncle Sven. Andre came to the US by himself in 1900 to work in a steel mill in Pittsburgh, before returning to get his wife and nine kids and bring them to settle in Montana, where he worked making sidewalks. Legend has it that when the Hoilands settled in Montana, they brought along a Norwegian troll named Skogen, which is a bit odd. But not as strange as the story of Sven, one of Andre’s sons and Eugene’s mother’s favorite older brother. Sven, as it happens, was shot and killed by his wife after he beat her and told her to solicit herself. He had been a drunkard, an adulterer and a thief, and had been married a mere six weeks.

Peterson heard these stories — good ones from his mother, bad ones from everyone else — and wondered what to make of it all. But as he reflected back on those stories, he realized that the contradictory legacy of Uncle Sven helped form him as the pastor he would eventually become:

The contradictions in Sven, the affectionate and playful big brother set alongside the abusive and violent husband, worked themselves into my adolescent imagination. Did one cancel the other? Was there any way to get the playful brother and the abusive husband into the same story?

He set out to write a novel based on the complex character of Sven, though it never amounted to much:

But the effort to accommodate the ambiguities of the moral and spiritual life did. I had no idea as I was plotting this novel that I was developing a pastoral imagination adequate for entering into the complexities of good and evil, sin and salvation, that make up much of the daily life of a congregation. When I finally did become a pastor, I was surprised at how thoroughly Sven had inoculated me against “one answer” systems of spiritual care: “For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple and wrong” is the warning posted by H.L. Mencken.

Thanks to Sven, I was being prepared to understand a congregation as a gathering of people that requires a context as large as the Bible itself if we are to deal with the ambiguities of life in the actual circumstances in which people live them. If the life of David that comprised prayer and adultery and murder could be written and told as a gospel story, no one in my congregation would be written off. For me, my congregation would become a work-in-progress — a novel in which everyone and everything is connected in a salvation story in which Jesus has the last word. No reductions to stereotype: not my grandmother’s desperate reduction of her son to a death-bed repentance, not my mother’s affectionate reduction of her brother to a fun-loving, devil-may-care naif, not the jury’s legal reduction of Sven to a drunken wife abuser, not the detached reduction by a psychiatrist of Sven to a narcissistic sociopath.

I’m proud to be related to Eugene Hoiland Peterson. I’m not proud to be related to Sven. But like it or not, I’m related to both. All of us are, one way or another.