Training

The great need is for men and women who are devoted to the Lord, growing in grace, and seeking to live their lives as communities of true disciples before a watching world.

But we must also recognise that we need men and women who are able to give a coherent account of the teaching of the Bible and the gospel message. And for that to happen they have to be recognised and taught. 

The shape of that teaching must emerge out of a dialogue between the text of Scripture and the ministry context for which the learner is being prepared. It should be informed by historical models of ministry formation but not constrained by them.

Our concepts of ministry underlie the way we approach this issue. When we consider the task of training people for ministry it is the way we conceive of that ministry that has a great influence on the form of training that emerges. What are the elements that characterize our traditional Western concept of ‘the ministry’? Let me explore one area of tension.

Harvie Conn, who taught missiology at Westminster Theological Seminary until his death in 1999 asserts that the model of the minister as pedagogue is deeply influenced by Greek culture with its over-emphasis on the intellect (Eternal Word and Changing Worlds: Theology, Anthropology, and Mission in Trialogue [Grand Rapids: Academie, 1984], 273). This emphasis, says Conn, came into the church through the Alexandrian theologians of the second and third centuries, replacing the Bible’s emphasis on edification as a God-centred call to build up others through love (Rom 15:2; 1 Cor 8:1).

Conn was not condemning the training of the mind. He was arguing that, at least in some circles, the mind was being overemphasised in relation to the life of obedience and faith. So he called for the development of a model for training for ministry that is formed in “doing the will of God” (Matt 6:10, 7:21), in “living by the truth” (1 John 1:6), and in being “transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Rom 12:2). The “sound doctrine” of the minister (Titus 1:9) is to be exercised in the context of a godly life (Titus 1:6-9, 2:1ff.). I think he was right.

So, I want to plead for a diverse approach to ministry training. Let’s not exclude godly people from leadership because they don’t have A-levels. 

And let us not slip into excluding men from the pastoral ministry because they haven’t got a theological degree. Our accredited institutions are expensive to run. They need to spend tens of thousands of pounds each year just to keep their accreditation. And that in the context of too many such institutions for the size of the constituency, that in spite of a number of closures in recent years. The knock-on effect of this is they need to fill spaces in order to stay afloat. They may be tempted to widen the criteria of entry to make that happen. And gifted individuals may be led to believe that they really need a degree in order to be fruitful. The advantages of an accredited programme are that there is a rigorous check on academic quality and the student is forced to discipline themselves to fulfil the learning outcomes. 

But there are also dangers. Let me list five of them:

1.     Danger One: the professionalization of the ministry. When that happens, anyone without a theological degree considers themselves unqualified to make a contribution. The gap between the pulpit and the pew grows. Church members come to see the minister as the one who must do the work of ministry. The biblical view of every-member ministry is dropped in favour of clericalism to the detriment of the church (Eph 4:11-16).

2.     Danger Two: Satan uses good training to puff up the one who is trained. 

3.     Danger Three: those who are thus trained are put into an invidious position – if they admit they are weak and that there are some things they don’t understand they think their people will lose respect for them, which, given the expectation created by the system, is a very real fear. And so, the fear of man proves to be a snare (Prov 29:25).

4.     Danger Four: pastors and evangelists are well equipped to interact with conceptual thinkers but poorly equipped to interact with concrete thinkers. Those going into the system as concrete thinkers are socialized out of their native cognitive style into one not suited to their background and so become less able to communicate with their own people.

5.     Danger Five: church life moves from the life of faith to the life of sight (Prov 29:25; 2 Cor 5:7). The minister, with his professional qualification, takes on the role of the CEO, whose basic criterion for success is the ability to balance the budget. We may not see this much in Wales, but it is a big issue in other countries. There is no inherent reason why it should not become so here.

That means that we must develop a healthy scepticism towards accreditation. How much of the Lord’s money is simply handed over to secular academic institutions for the kudos of offering a degree? 

Furthermore, we need to develop curricula that are flexible in pace and place. These need to fit the needs and abilities of those who are identified as being called to service, whatever their academic background. Though some accredited institutions have innovated in this way, the demands of the accrediting body can prevent the flexibility that is desired.

I am not arguing that nobody should get an accredited degree: we all benefit greatly from commentaries and other scholarly works that would not have been produced had not the author been put through an academically rigorous programme. My argument is merely that we must be creative, flexible, and pluralistic, not beholden to academia. A nimble approach that is well-grounded in the context will be better able to respond to changing situations and be a better use of limited resources.

I have mostly been addressing the preparation of men for the pastoral and evangelistic ministry. But we also need to take a long look at how we are training men and women more generally. How many of us are consciously looking out for how we can release men and women in our churches into ministry and thinking how they can get the training they need to do that well?

In this connection it would be good to look at how parachurch ministries such as student ministry and camp ministry can synergise better with the local church. At camp, for example, are we consciously looking to upgrade the skills of camp officers, not only so they can lead camps but also so they can lead groups in their home churches? My impression is that this could be done better.

Mobilising

I have been posting a series of articles that emerged out of an invitation by the Swansea ministers' fraternal to speak to them on a strategy for Wales. The introduction is followed by posts on place, migration, and settlement.

Here is the first of four posts on strategic issues:

Although we must not narrow ourselves to one text in Scripture to summarise the mission of the church, the centrality of disciple-making through evangelism and teaching is a good place to start (Matt 28:19-20). Having said that, we must do all we can to avoid dividing the works that our church members are doing on an everyday basis into a two-tier system of spiritual and secular. 

Nevertheless, we would do well to be creative to think of ways that we as churches can multiply our impact on society. In saying this I am aware that we must avoid mission creep. I take it that the mission of the church is not to do everything that individual disciples of Christ are called to. But there are ways in which we may be able to mobilise members into works of service that are good in themselves whilst also building bridges with the community.

One expression of this is social entrepreneurship. Manumit Coffee set up by Dai Hankey is a good example of social entrepreneurship in Wales. 

It is no surprise that the proportion of committed churchgoers involved in parent-toddler groups, foodbanks, and debt counselling services is way higher than our proportion of the population.

Can we extend that reach into other areas: care homes, friendship centres, and other community services? These do not have to be run by the church as church. But church members may be encouraged to take up the challenge and their involvement in such works can lead to fruitful connections to the core activities of the church. Since these services would not be specifically oriented to church activities it would be perfectly appropriate to accept public funds.

Can we encourage church members to address the growing crisis in the care sector? As a nation we should hang our heads in shame for the way we treat our elders. Taking care of the needy and vulnerable has always been a significant way that the church has attracted outsiders. Since the advent of the welfare state, however, the church has been marginalised by the state. Our country is facing a complex of serious social crises. This has been brought about, among other things, by the abandonment of our Christian heritage and its replacement with the selfish pursuit of pleasure and affluence. The consequential high rate of abortion, aging population, tension with immigration, crisis in mental health, and intergenerational alienation gives the church a new opportunity to step into the gap and do what it had always done so well before. For instance, I recently heard of a church parent-toddler group that now meets regularly with senior citizens. They all love it and it meets several needs at the same time. 

Considering the mobilization of workers, I have a particular question about one demographic that we need to be more alert to: migration statistics tell us that students from the rest of the UK tend to leave Wales once they have completed their degrees or soon after. Should we try to keep young graduates who are followers of Christ in Wales? If so, how? We may have a ready supply of workers if only we were able to share our vision with them and find ways to make that more attractive. 

Settlement

Having explored a little of the significance of place and migration I want to look at settlement patterns in Wales, to see if there may be anything that we can learn from them. I am not a geographer so I may need correcting on this, but I think it is helpful to recognise three major settlement types: rural, peri-urban, and urban.

a)    Rural

The great need for the gospel in rural parts of Wales is obvious. It seems to me that a bi-vocational approach to gospel ministry should be explored here: farmer-pastors, teacher-pastors, mechanic-evangelists, etc. Simon Bowkett is a good example of this approach. No doubt there are others. 

There is a huge need for church planting. Have we given sufficient thought as to the shape of such churches? I wonder if we should consider a model in which small village churches, probably meeting in homes, could be networked together with larger churches in the market towns, bi-vocational pastors providing the lion’s share of pastoral care and even teaching.

We also need to look out for other opportunities: e.g. demand in Powys for doctors. Can a church planting network recruit young doctors via CMF? Clearly the area is unattractive to newly qualified doctors, but I wonder that if the church can help meet the social and cultural needs as well as provide spiritual support such an influx could have a tangible impact on these communities.

b)    Peri-urban

The Welsh Valleys form a characteristic peri-urban region, making them different from both rural and urban places. Though similar to urban spaces, they can be isolated and neglected by the powers that be and even by the church. A report for the Welsh Government tells us that the Valleys constitute "a distressed area unique in Great Britain for the depth and concentration of its problems" (R. David, et al., “The Socio-Economic Characteristics of the South Wales Valleys in a Broader Context.” A report for the Welsh Assembly Government [2003]). While social and economic problems deepen, local authorities have been cutting back their services, apparently abandoning smaller settlements, e.g. Afan Valley.

Is this an opportunity for the church? There is still a real sense of community in many Valley settlements. Can we tap into that? We should learn from the example of John Funnell in Abersychan, and others like him.

c)     Urban

This is by far the most complex geographical type. I won’t go into any discussion of the meaning of cities here but that is a discussion that needs to be had before we seriously engage with the city. Gospel churches in Wales, as in other parts of the UK, are generally to be found in the suburbs, though in recent decades, there has been an encouraging development of gospel churches in the city-centre.

I want merely to point out the following features of the cities of Wales that should figure in any attempt to formulate plans to reach our cities with the gospel:

i)               Social diversity

One of the features of the city to have emerged since industrial times is that of the ‘estates’ – pockets of social housing with high rates of social and economic deprivation. I don’t have any particular contribution here except to suggest you follow the tweets and blogs of such people as Stephen Kneale, Ian Williamson, Mez McConnell, and Duncan Forbes. (Tim Chester’s Unreached and the older, but still useful, Urban Harvest by Roy Joslin should also be studied to understand the context better.)

Let me say, however, that I think discussions about ‘class’ are often ignorant and lazy, talking about the ‘working class’ and the ‘middle class’ as if they are social groups. They are not. We need to recognise the distinction between social groups and societal groups and not get them confused. It would make our discussions more nuanced and concrete.

ii)              Cultural diversity

The cities are by far the most culturally diverse settlements in Wales, as elsewhere. Immigration is far more pronounced here than in peri-urban or rural environments. Now many of us have a high ideal when it comes to displaying the multi-cultural nature of the Bride of Christ. That is good. But often we show a lopsided attitude. We expect minorities who come to our churches to adapt to us but don’t expect the majority to have to adapt to them. Furthermore, not many of our churches demonstrate our value of multi-cultural diversity in the makeup of our leadership. Are we looking out for potential leaders among our ethnic and social minorities? It would be easy to overlook them. They are often quiet, perhaps because they have a strong sense that they are guests. I am just scratching the surface of a difficult phenomenon that some of us should be making a matter of much prayer and study.

iii)            Religious diversity

At this point I want to say something distinct about reaching those of other religious traditions. It seems to me that the evangelical church in Wales has hardly begun to give this matter much thought at all. We lump all ethnic minorities together. But I think we need to take the context from which these minorities come very seriously indeed. I have given this issue the major part of my thought for 34 years.

I want to suggest that we give careful consideration to community-specific churches rather than automatically disqualifying such a notion as being unbiblical.

I think the ground reality is such that we will never get very far at all unless we move in this direction. I have written extensively on this elsewhere (e.g. here).

Migration

Here are some recent(ish) migration statistics for Wales:[1]

• the net inflow of international migrants to Wales in 2012/13 was 14,000;
• there was also a net inflow from rest of UK but decreasing;
• within Wales the net flow is from north to south and, a little, from South East Wales to South West Wales;
• one statistical anomaly seems to be the result of the temporary migration of students from other parts of the UK, a phenomenon I will come back to later.

Migration is not as big an issue for Wales as it is for the other parts of the UK. We do well to give it consideration though. The significance of migration lies in the importance of place. It is precisely because place is so important that migration is significant. People generally like to live in the place they grew up. But conflict, corruption, ecological stress, rising expectations created by the ready access to see how green the grass is on the other side of the fence given by the internet and social media in particular, push people to move. But there are also pull factors as we in the West, for example, recruit workers from the South to fill our service vacancies.

When people move, two things happen: challenges are presented, and opportunities emerge. We are familiar with some of the challenges. Are we looking out for the opportunities?

Two significant opportunities stand out: firstly, the opportunities arising from the arrival of believers with attendant challenges; and secondly, the opportunities arising from the arrival of unbelievers.

Firstly, we have the phenomenon of the arrival of followers of Christ from far flung places. Quoting Enoch Wan, Knud Jørgensen writes, “The migrants are on the move and so are God’s people: ‘As people move geographically and spiritually, the Church should follow the moving of the Spirit accordingly.’”[2] Those who are disciples of Christ migrate carrying the message and missionary initiative. “Today’s migration from the global south to the north and west represents a new dynamic witness amid a faltering Christianity in Europe and North America,” argues Jørgensen.[3]

So, the question is, how much should the church in Wales adjust in the light of the global expansion of this form of Christian expression? Are our traditions flexible enough to accommodate those who come with different traditions? 

Along with this opportunity, the inclusion of migrants in our churches brings often complex pastoral needs. I recently talked to an African woman who has moved to the UK to work in the care sector. The other week she was suspended because, it would seem, a co-worker and resident conspired to lie about her, in retaliation for her integrity. How does a pastor respond to that? 

We in the rich West pay people in the poor South to leave their own parents to care for ours. And they are joining our churches. How do we support those brothers and sisters when their own parents become needy?

Secondly, as we are now familiar, we are now living in close proximity to people who, even 50 years ago, were the ‘mission field’. Some have suggested that since such people are now on our shores, we no longer need to send missionaries to their countries. This is naïve for a number of reasons that I won’t go into here. But the reality of the opportunity on our shores is obvious. Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and others are now living in our cities and towns, if not much in our rural areas. The big feature that makes these migrations different from those of previous generations is that these migrations form ‘diaspora communities’. These are communities that retain their connection to their homeland. In the past migrants expected to settle and make their new country their home for the rest of their lives. No more. They fly back and forth, Skype their relatives, and even manage their affairs back home through the convenience of their mobile phone.

The opportunity this presents is huge: not only are the individuals and families on our doorsteps accessible to the gospel, so too are their networks and communities back home, if ever they come to put their faith in Christ.

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[1] Migration Statistics. Online: https://gov.wales/statistics-and-research/migration-statistics/?lang=en [cited 1 March 2019].

[2] Knud Jørgensen, “Edinburgh, Tokyo and Cape Town: Comparing and Contrasting on the Way to 2110” in The Lausanne Movement: A Range of Perspectives (eds. Margunn Serigstad Dahle, Lars Dahle and Knud Jørgensen. Regnum Edinburgh Centenary Series 22; Oxford: Regnum, 2014), 358, citing Enoch Wan, “Celebration, Consultation and Congress: From Edinburgh 1910 to Tokyo 2010 and Cape Town 2010” in Evangelical and Frontier Mission: Perspectives on the Global Progress of the Gospel (eds. A. ScottMoreau and Beth Snodderly; Oxford: Regnum, 2011), 229.

[3] Jørgensen, “Edinburgh, Tokyo and Cape Town”, 358.

Place

This is the second part of my series began yesterday. The following three posts (including this one) look at some aspects of the Welsh context.

I am very aware that the following is a mere gloss over a complex subject. But worse than offering a superficial analysis of the context is not to do so at all. I am especially conscious that I will say very little about Welsh language. This is not because it is not important but rather because I am poorly qualified to do so. Suffice it to say that we need to take Welsh language seriously. Our approach to the phenomenon of a minority indigenous language community actually gives us some helpful ways to model our approach with minority exogenous language groups, but I am not going to cover that today. 

What I shall offer here are a few general thoughts, not exactly random, but certainly not very carefully thought through. 

1.     Place

David Goodheart argues that the key fault line in Britain and elsewhere now separates those whom he labels ‘Anywheres’ – mobile, usually urban, socially liberal, university educated, status-achieved individuals – and ‘Somewheres’ – communally-rooted, usually in a small town or in the countryside, socially conservative, often less educated, status-ascribed (David Goodheart, The Road to Somewhere: The Populist Revolt and the Future of Politics [London: Hurst, 2017]). Somewheres make up roughly half the population of the UK but must surely constitute a big majority of people who live in Wales.

Are we sufficiently aware of the sensitivities of Somewheres? The gospel liberates us from the tyranny of prejudice towards the outsider. But it doesn’t blot out our social and cultural and geographical rootedness. While we should always build a global awareness and concern in our churches, we must never be embarrassed at the localism and apparent narrow-mindedness of people who live their whole lives in the same place and have no desire to eat olives.

Somewheres voted almost overwhelmingly for Leave in the 2016 referendum. Whatever our views on Brexit, we must be attuned to the sense of disempowerment that has been experienced by Somewheres in the whole Brexit process. When I first wrote this I said, “We must be prepared to speak a message of hope in the disappointment.” Now Brexit is actually going ahead, that disappointment has probably replaced with at least a measure of optimism. But it is unlikely that all the expectations of the Somewheres will be realized. So we must expect at least some of that feeling of disappointment and disenfranchisement to return. Are we going to come alongside these people, who bear God’s likeness, and preach hope to them and live hope-filled lives in apparently hopeless situations?

If we are going to make any progress in reaching out to the Somewheres of Wales, we must help them see that the gospel and the church are for them. And that surely means we must get out of our comfort zones and get our hands dirty. (See also Peter Franklin, ‘The Post’ blog, by Unherd, 12 September 2019.)

Furthermore, as Francis Schaeffer wrote half a century ago, we are the church before the watching world. We may think people are ignoring us. And that may be true on a national level. But on a local level, people are indeed watching us. They want to see if our message is matched by our actions. Are we characterised by love, as we are supposed to be? If we are, we will shine all the brighter as society around us becomes all the darker.

In Defence of Strategy

Early last year I was invited to speak to the men of the Swansea ministers' fraternal. This was my brief: 

What mission strategy would an experienced missionary come up with for Wales?

I covered only half my material then so they invited me back in December to cover the rest. Since then a number of people have asked to read my paper. I am very conscious of its weaknesses but more might benefit in some way if I post it here. So I will start here with my introduction and, Lord willing, add more over the next few days.

The Collins Dictionary defines strategy as follows: 

1.     the art or science of the planning and conduct of a war;

2.     a particular long-term plan for success, esp. in politics, business, etc.

I suppose, in missions, strategy could imply either of those meanings (though a strategic approach to spiritual warfare has invariably resulted in bizarre and destructive activities). Strategic planning is not new in missions. It was assumed when the term ‘mission’ was first used, by the Jesuits led by Ignatius Loyola in the 16^thCentury. Like the word mission, strategy became a regular part of organised efforts to spread Christianity in subsequent centuries, becoming a particularly Protestant phenomenon with William Carey’s Enquiry in 1792.

As with the words and concepts of ‘mission’ and ‘missions’ in the 21^st Century, the idea of employing strategy in the pursuit of fulfilling the calling of the church, has rather dropped out of favour. It may be seen as a particularly modern idea, that owes more to the Enlightenment than to the Bible.

Since the 1960s, the modern missions movement, especially in its American form, has been marked by a strong emphasis on strategic planning. It has been a characteristic of the Church Growth Movement led by Donald McGavran and the US Center for World Mission of Ralph Winter (now called Frontier Ventures) and its spin offs. 

This approach, however, has come under some trenchant criticism. Samuel Escobar, for example, has criticised this ‘Californian’ approach as being guilty of making mission an exercise in management – ‘managerial missions’.

To a large degree I share the concerns of those who have voiced this criticism. But I am not wholly with the critics for two reasons:

1.     The criticism of McGavran – which you hear a lot in Reformed circles – is largely uninformed and crude. I have a hunch that very few have read him. It is true that he probably took some of his ideas too far. But his thinking, drawing on the work of Roland Allen, and heavily informed by his own many years of ministry in India, was very fruitful. There had been far too much waste of mission resources. Missionaries had been labouring in places for decades without any fruit. Many had been tied up in managing institutions. Among other things, he wanted missions to step back and ask serious questions about what they were doing.

2.     Planning is biblical. Paul did not wander around the Mediterranean Basin in a random manner. He and his companions “were kept by the HS from preaching the word in the province of Asia” (Acts 16:6). That would mean nothing if they hadn’t been prevented from carrying out a plan. In the next verse we read that they “tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to”. Clearly, they were seeking to evangelise according to a strategy.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans he tells them that he had “planned many times to come to you” (Rom 1:13). At the end of his letter, he outlines his modus operandi: “It has always been my ambition to preach the gospel where Christ was not known, so that I would not be building on someone else’s foundation” (Rom 15:20). Then he tells them of his ‘plan’ to visit them on his way to Spain (24). Likewise, Paul discusses his plans to visit the Corinthians (2 Cor 1:15-17).

However, we must always resist the temptation to reduce the ministry that the Lord has given us to a management exercise, and that again for two reasons:

1.     Firstly, the work of ministry is a spiritual ministry. By that I mean that it is ultimately the work of the Spirit, who empowers us to join him in his work (Acts 1:8). So, he maintains the right to move where he wills (John 3:8). Thus, we must always be ready to change our plans at a moment’s notice. It is striking how, in all those passages, without exception, in which Luke and Paul mention plans, they are recounting how their plans have changed. There was one thing more important than planning and that was responding to the Spirit’s leading (not always the same as responding to the requests of people as Mark 1:35-39 demonstrate).

2.     Secondly, the work of ministry must never be reduced to numbers. Graphs, spreadsheets, people groups, and colour-coded maps all look great. But they give the impression of a scientific rigour about the research that is unwarranted. It is a positivistic approach to social and spiritual phenomena that, in reality, is unsuited to the material.

So, with that preamble, I would like to take a chastened approach to strategy for Wales. But before I proceed, I want to apologise because I haven’t done the necessary reading to interact with others who have had a go at this before me. I have not, for example, read David Ollerton’s book, A New Mission to Wales. I also suspect that much of what I have to proposed has already been suggested by others, and there are probably a number of men and women unbeknownst to me beavering away in just such ways away from the limelight. Really, they are the ones who need to be listened to rather than me.

So, if you were hoping for a grand strategy, I am afraid you will be disappointed. Rather, in this presentation I want to look firstly at our context and then address four strategic issues that come to mind as I consider a gospel response to this context.