< Back The Temptations The opening chapters of Matthew’s Gospel provide an important introduction to the Kingdom of God. The sequence of events is deliberate, each preparing the reader for the next. Chapters 1 and 2 announce the birth of a King unlike any other. His kingdom is not founded upon military power, ethnic identity, or political ideology. It does not seek to overthrow earthly governments. Instead, angels proclaim a kingdom of peace led by a helpless infant—the Savior of the world. It is a kingdom that welcomes ordinary people, shepherds, foreigners, and all who respond in faith. In chapter 3, John the Baptist announces that this kingdom has arrived. His message reaches crowds, tax collectors, and soldiers alike. Repentance is demonstrated in practical ways: those who have much are to share with those who have little; tax collectors are to conduct their business honestly; soldiers are to use their authority justly rather than oppressively. John also points beyond himself to One who will baptize not merely with water but with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Chapter 4 records the temptation of Jesus. Chapter 5 opens with the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus unfolds the values and priorities of God’s kingdom. At first glance, the temptation appears to interrupt Matthew’s presentation of the Kingdom of God. In reality, it is one of the Gospel’s most important lessons. Before Jesus teaches the principles of the kingdom, He must first reject the false kingdoms that Satan offers. The temptation reveals not only the character of Christ but also the nature of the kingdom He came to establish. Matthew and Luke both record the temptation, while Mark mentions it only briefly and John omits it altogether. Matthew and Luke describe the same three temptations, though they reverse the order of the last two. The first temptation is identical in both Gospels. After forty days of fasting, Satan urges Jesus, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” Jesus replies by quoting Deuteronomy: “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” The second temptation in Matthew (the third in Luke) takes place at the highest point of the temple in Jerusalem. Satan quotes Psalm 91, urging Jesus to throw Himself down, claiming that angels will rescue Him. The final temptation in Matthew brings Jesus to a very high mountain where Satan displays “all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor.” He promises to give them all to Jesus in exchange for one act of worship. These three temptations are not random. Together they offer an alternative vision of God’s kingdom—a kingdom built on material prosperity, spectacular displays of power, and political domination. Jesus rejects each one. Previous Home Next

< Back The Wealth of the Poor by Stephan Bauman, Wendy Wellman, and Megan Laughlin World Relief The Wealth of the Poor: Women and the Savings Movement in Africa By: Stephan Bauman, Wendy Wellman, and Megan Laughlin [1} World Relief Abstract This paper explores biblical principles of wealth, poverty, and power in view of World Relief’s emerging Savings for Life economic development programs in the Great Lakes region of Africa. Sound principles and proven practices have never been more important as the global Church seeks to respond to the call of Christ to foster a “hope and a future” for the poor and oppressed, especially women in the developing world. Challenging traditional perceptions of wealth, poverty, and power, community-owned savings groups mobilize their own financial resources, care for one another in times of need, and reach out to transform their communities. As a result, ordinary African women are fostering peace and hope in some of the poorest communities in the world. A biblical understanding of wealth in its full array—from divinely endowed gifts, spiritual and social capital, to creativity—is necessary to release the full potential of the materially poor, and to engage them as agents in creating their new future under God. This broader definition of wealth—beyond the usual definition as economic well-being—is explored, culminating with three expressions of wealth exemplified by African women participating in the savings movement. Introduction He is the One Who cooks His food in huge palm oil pots. Thousands of people have eaten, Yet the remnants fill twelve baskets. If we leave all this, and go wandering off If we leave His great gift, Where else shall we go? [2] —Afua Kuima In the end, only God gives. We are all in need, and we all depend on “His great gift.” But we live in a world where His gifts are not equal. Our global village is shrinking: decadence and destitution have never been so acquainted. Today, those who have, and those who have not, mingle. Buy a bottle of pure drinking water and learn about the billion people who live without it. Choose your cause and book a plane ticket. Feel a tinge of guilt for spending more on a coffee than the 3 billion who survive each day on less. [3] Shop for something “red”[4]and learn about the 8,000 people who died from AIDS today. Turn on the radio and learn a child dies every 3 seconds from hunger and related diseases.[5]Watch a disaster live on CNN. The task of the global Church is “…to bring into public expression those very hopes and yearnings that have been denied so long and suppressed so deeply...”[6] The call from the periphery has never been so clarion, the response of the Church, never so important. We must concern ourselves with “His great gifts” for all, especially those on the margins. Indeed, compassion has become mainstream in many churches, whether towards poverty, HIV and AIDS, human trafficking, or disasters. Local churches in the majority world—many encouraged by the global church, many out of their own initiative—are formulating programs to reach those who suffer. In the Western world, tens of thousands are traveling to Africa, Asia, Latin America, and even to Haiti since the earthquake. Meanwhile, emerging from the periphery are powerful expressions of promise, movements that overcome poverty and empower women around the world.[7] Today, there are more than 100 million women[8]in microfinance groups, many receiving the equivalent of $50 to $75 microloans to start or maintain small businesses. Millions of women, working together in community-based groups, are saving small sums—often just a dollar or less weekly or twice monthly across Asia, Latin America, and Africa. This includes women who are among the most poor and oppressed in the world. A revolution is underway, a prophetic movement for women, by women. These two streams—the West’s unprecedented concern and generous outpouring, coupled with new, promising movements in the Global South—are reason to both celebrate and hesitate. Never has there been a greater need for principled thought and thorough reflection. This paper reviews biblical principles regarding wealth, poverty, and power, and applies them to the savings group moment in three African contexts. The idea of wealth as a divinely endowed gift—beyond the usual definition as economic well-being—is explored, culminating with three expressions of wealth exemplified by African women participating in the savings movement. Part I of this paper presents biblically-informed principles of wealth, poverty, and power. Part II examines anecdotal evidence of the savings group movement in three African contexts that demonstrate how empowered African women are “wealthy” in creativity, sacrifice, and compassion. Part I. Principles: Wealth, Poverty, and Power Healing the relationship between the affluent and the poor requires honest questions—both theological and practical—regarding wealth, poverty, and power. The Hebraic concept of shalom , the redemption of all spheres of life towards God’s “intended harmony,”[9]is the antithesis of poverty and injustice. Shalom envisions a world of just and peaceful relationships—with God, self, and others, and creation. Missio Dei , the mission of God, pursues shalom in every corner of life, and requires a reckoning in the relationships between the affluent and the poor. It begins with the love of God, is extended with compassion and justice though the hands and feet of His people, and culminates in hope for the nations. While not exhaustive, the following principles regarding wealth, poverty, and power are foundational to those seeking to bring peace and hope to a broken world. All people are wealthy by nature of the image they bear and their God-given creative potential, and all people are poor due to the Fall. We all bear the image of the God of the cosmos, the Imago Dei. All people are created in the image of God with equal and infinite value and, importantly, creative potential. Because we’re all children of God, we are wealthy. In our age of consumerism and materialism, it’s never been more important to push beyond a narrow definition of humanness. We must avoid measuring ourselves primarily by utility, production, or income. Consider the wealth of the poor. Materially poor people around the world demonstrate vibrancy, human strength, perseverance, ingenuity and unprecedented faith and joy—their dire circumstances and “wealth” often correlated. Consider, also, the poverty of the rich. Notice their search for meaning, their pursuit of decadence, their apathy.We also know our “imageness,” rich and poor alike, is marred by the Fall.[10] No one escapes brokenness and the need for redemption. We all need to be put back together again. We’re all wealthy; we’re all poor. Without a biblical understanding of wealth in its full array—from divinely endowed gifts, spiritual and social capital,[11]to creativity—it’s impossible to release the full potential of the materially poor, and to engage them as agents in creating their new future under God. Grasping and living out this principle, both in the West and the Global South, is essential to addressing poverty and injustice, and sustaining hope, in our world today. Material, or economic, wealth is an expression of God’s desire to bless his people through which they, in turn, are meant to bless all people . The Abrahamic blessing,[12] blessed to be a blessing, frames the biblical understanding of wealth. We are meant to “steward wealth in a manner that extends the kingdom of God.”[13]Private property is sanctioned by the Ten Commandments,[14]presupposes charitable giving,[15]and is the basis for the New Testament church.[16]Still, God alone is the absolute owner[17]and, thus, we are merely stewards of all wealth. Material wealth can also lead us away from God. History has show that the Fall has significantly impaired our ability to bless those with the blessing we have received. Jesus sternly warned us against the temptation of riches,[18]spoke of “two masters,”[19]and exhorted us to put first His Kingdom above all else.[20] Today, materially wealthy people “are finding that wealth by itself does not bring meaning and fulfillment, and they are starting to search for answers.”[21]While God blesses through wealth, material plenty is often a hindrance. Material wealth is not a promise, or guarantee, of obedience or hard work. While all God’s people will one day enjoy the full abundance of wealth as blessing in a redeemed heaven and earth, in this age, “no predictions can be made as to the level of material prosperity God will grant any individual believer” or people.[22] In the words of John Stott, “We have to have the courage to reject the ‘health and wealth gospel’ absolutely. It is a false gospel.”[23] Poverty’s causes are many and complex . Natural disasters, war, sin, structural injustice, dearth of technology, poor policy or governance, corruption, misuse of power, unjust land and contract laws, colonialism, environmental degradation, and an unbiblical worldview all contribute to poverty.[24]The causes of poverty are also interconnected. Technological advances help, but accompanying trade policies can hinder. For example, years of cheap U.S. imports to Haiti have decimated Haiti’s agriculture including, especially, its rice crop.[25]The green revolution stemmed famine in Asia, but its failure to reach Africa has led to millions of deaths.[26]U.S. and European agriculture subsidies, as well as the lack of infrastructure investment in Sub-Saharan Africa, have contributed to this failure. In sum, addressing one or more causes of poverty without understanding the contributing factors can further entrench poverty rather than alleviate it. Poverty is fundamentally relational. We tend to define poverty narrowly, primarily in economic terms, as material lack. If poverty were merely a function of income, we would have solved it long ago. Over the past 45 years, we have invested nearly $600 billion in aid to Africa. But, according to William Easterly, former World Bank Chief Economist, “we have very little to show for it—over those same 42 years, the per capita growth rate of the median African nation has stayed close to zero.” Indeed, the material view is insufficient—a deeper understanding is necessary. Leaning on the works of Robert Chambers, John Friedmann, and Jayakumar Christian, Bryant Myers defines the nature of poverty as fundamentally relational. “[It’s] about relationships that don’t work, that isolate, that abandon or devalue.”[27]In essence, broken relationships with God, others, the community, the environment, and self lead to problems in the spiritual, political, social, economic, and physical realms of society. The resulting, fragmented relationships lead to the major manifestations of poverty: dependency, humiliation, injustice, oppression, and physical want. A fractured relationship with God leads to spiritual deception. Inadequate worldviews generally lead to unjust ideologies, demonic principalities invite oppression, and a weak ethical base leads to corruption. Social problems result from broken relationships with one another, the ramifications of personal and systemic sin.[28]The biblical view for overcoming poverty, namely, just and peaceful relationships between God, others, self, and the environment, is derived from the commandments to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind,” and to “love your neighbor as yourself.”[29] Poverty strips people of dignity, worth, and creativity . In the words of a woman from Moldova, “Poverty is pain; it feels like a disease…it eats away one’s dignity and drives one into total despair.”[30] Its nature and implications are complex and its range of causes difficult to identify. Africans, Asians, or Latinos define poverty in social and psychological terms, mentioning “shame, inferiority, powerlessness, humiliation, fear and hopelessness…”[31] In urban Uganda, a student visited two households in the slum. By all appearance,, the homes were the same. Both were led by mothers in their thirties; both women lived on similar income. But the first house was clean and well-taken care of. The second wasn’t. The first mother exuded unconditional hospitality, sharing the little food she had with her guests. The second complained of her circumstances, of her poverty.[32] For the second woman, poverty had pervaded not only her situation but also her own sense of self. The full effect of poverty over a sustained period can cause what Augustine Muspole calls a “poverty of being,” or as Jayakumar Christian says, a “marred identity” among the poor. According to Myers, “A lifetime of suffering, deception, and exclusion is internalized in ways that result in the poor no longer knowing who they truly are or why they were created. This is the deepest and most profound expression of poverty.” [33]The result is that many truly believe they are forsaken by God and cut off from expressions of his love. The net result of “poverty of being” is destructive, not only in the relationships to God and self, but in the relationships to others, the community, and society as well. It implications are far reaching. Poverty affects women more than others. In most of the world today, to be a woman is to be poor. Women comprise 70 percent of the poor, 66 percent of those who cannot read, nearly 80 percent of the world’s refugees, and 75 percent of the sick. While women comprise half the world, they do nearly two-thirds of the world’s work and receive only 10 percent of the world’s income.[34]They are the majority of the world’s farmers, but own a mere 1 percent of property. Women care for most of the world’s sick, but are less likely to receive treatment when they are ill. Childbirth remains the leading cause of death and injury to women worldwide. Women caught in war zones face rape as a weapon of the enemy and as the prize of the victors [35]More than 1 million girls are trafficked each year, many into sexual slavery. And then there are women that are simply not here: economist Amartya Sen estimates more than 100 million girls are missing from the world today due to years of “gendercide” in countries like China and India.[36] In stark contrast to gender norms of his day, Jesus not only identified with the poor but also reached out to women. A small group of women, friends, no less, traveled with him and supported him financially. [37]He spoke with a Samaritan woman at a public well, and her resulting testimony turned the adjacent town upside down (“…many believed in him as a result...”[38]). Jesus allows a “sinful” woman to touch him, anointing him for death. He forgives her and praises her as one who “loved much.”[39]And, following his resurrection, he reveals himself first to a woman, Mary Magdalene.[40] Power is a means towards establishing justice. Woven throughout the biblical narrative is mandate to use power to bring justice to all.[41] The idea of shalom presents a primary justice (tsadaq, in the Hebrew text) , where “relationships are righteous,[42]” and where “rectifying” justice (mishpat ) flows from these right relationships. Power, used rightly, brings shalom. Jesus “was a constant threat to the centers of power: he provoked their fury, and they rose up against him.”[43]Yet he dwelled with the powerless—the marginalized, the peasant poor.[44]He dined with them. He healed them. He became poor and lived among them. Jesus’ crucifixion was the ultimate protest against the suffering and oppression of the powerful.[45] In this final act, Jesus overturned the power structures of his day and for all history. As followers of Christ, we are mandated to use his authority, God’s power, to bring justice, shalom, to a broken world. Power is often misused resulting in oppression and injustice. There is no greater area affected by sin, both personal and systemic, than the realm of power. History continually shows the powerful “neglecting or mistreating” the powerless. David Bosch called power “the real issue,” stating that poverty cannot be overcome without the transfer of power.”[46] Bread for the World says, “Hungry people lack the power to end their hunger.”[47] Sadly, those suffering from a “poverty of being” don’t understand the strength bestowed upon them by their Creator. Their powerlessness can be self inflicted but unfortunately exploited by the powerful around them. To be sure, a biblical understanding of power and the redemption of abusive power structures is essential to bring shalom. What are the implications of these principles for those seeking to overcome injustice and oppression? First, we must rediscover the gospel. Only the gospel, “by its witness—in word and deed and common life… introduces the vision of a new world, a different world, a world for which it is legitimate to hope.” [48] The gospel gathers people towards worship, it affirms their dignity, it calls forth creativity, and it relates them directly to the God of history. It puts forward a foundational set of values to call forth people beyond themselves. It orients the community towards others. The gospel calls forth concrete action for the community from within the community ; it is an intrinsic call, one that is capable to overcome the worst forms of injustice and oppression. Moreover, the gospel is self-prophetic—it challenges the status quo to protect itself against apathy and selfish power. Second, to the extent we seek to solve the issues of poverty with superficial solutions—a trend today especially among newcomers to issues of poverty—we risk deepening suffering. Superficial solutions usually stem from defining poverty too simply—as material deprivation, lack of education, or a misunderstanding of God. A group of university students studying poverty in Ethiopia, Sudan and Uganda learned that their hosts were shocked and insulted when the students identified them as poor.[49] Despite studying the issues of poverty, these students had preconceived ideas of what constitutes poverty. They quickly learned that who we call poor is not who they call poor. While the West tends to base poverty on income—including the rather arbitrary measure like the World Bank’s $1 per day absolute poverty standard—many base it on assets, such as animals or land. Simplistic solutions fail to understand the local context, language, and culture. Hasty solutions can lead to unconsciously “playing God” in the lives of the material poor, reinforcing feelings of inferiority.[50] Third, we must leverage the strengths of the community rather than depend on the outside. Too often well meaning people in the Western world seek to help the poor by giving them things.[51] They assume the poor have nothing, no assets or strengths upon which they can build. Though well intended, Good Samaritans seek to work “for the poor[52]” or even “with the poor” but, in so doing, too often stifle local initiative.[53]Such posture, and corresponding models of ministry, can further entrench poverty, especially the forms of poverty that result when the materially poor already feel inferior.[54] Ministry “by the poor,” within their own communities, has the potential to transform from the inside out. Ownership is higher. Change lasts and even multiplies. Asset-based development—an approach that starts with the strengths and potential of people instead of their needs and deficits—begins by “asking the materially poor how they can be stewards of their own gifts and resources, seeking to restore individuals and communities to being what God has created them to be from the very start of the relationship.[55]” It builds off the biblical premise that within every community around the world, God is and has been at work—that there is goodness in all of God’s creation. This holds true even in the most impoverished communities. Even the smallest talent, if wisely invested, can be multiplied. Rowen Williams speaks to this theme: Attempts to bypass local networks, local styles of decision-making and above all local rationales for action or change invariably produce resentment and puzzlement. What people see is an agenda that is not theirs, activated by foreigners claiming to act on their behalf...If development processes and programs are not to be paralyzed by such resentment and mistrust, with the result that local communities cannot see themselves as agents of their own change, enormous potential is left unrealized.[56] It is precisely because they are among the most poor and vulnerable that women must especially take the lead, as agents of change, in overcoming their own poverty and in their communities. Women’s own leadership is critical to overcoming entrenched views of dependency and power. The future is not one bestowed upon poor women by the affluent. Instead, communities must experience hope for the poor, by the poor, claiming their God-given dignity and realizing the promise of restoration in all its fullness. Part II. Practice: African Women and Their Wealth through Savings We have yet to see a revolution among half the earth—the world’s women. Poverty and gender significantly correlate. But there is hope. Millions of women, many who are among the most poor and oppressed, are starting small businesses, sending their kids to school, and transforming their communities of their own initiative. The evidence is compelling: small increases in income among women benefit the household—better education for children, better nutrition, more visits to the local clinic, and increases in household assets.[57] As moms earn, kids learn and eat better too. Moreover, in some countries, husbands respect their wives more and treat them better as they contribute to the family income.[58]Importantly, many clients form deep friendships and depend upon their groups as a source for encouragement and a place to express their faith together. Clients help one another in sacrificial ways. Groups of clients reach into their communities to improve the lives of their neighbors. Research has found that materially poor people, even the extreme poor, do in fact save money.[59] They save to prepare for emergencies, to meet social obligations—such as weddings, funerals, festivals, to start or expand small businesses, and to respond to seasonal changes in cash reduces vulnerability, increases confidence, and raises standards of living. Not only are they able to save from the money they currently earn, but by using disciplined savings practices the materially poor are breaking the cycles of poverty, reducing household vulnerability, and increasing economic advancement opportunities. Most importantly, as the materially poor save—especially women—they form new communities through their savings groups and, together, reach out to their neighborhoods. One such program is called Savings for Life . The methodology is simple enough to allow illiterate farmers to easily participate but flexible enough to accommodate more complex approaches as investment needs change. With support from local churches and World Relief, a group of about 20 to 35 community members, usually women, join together to start a savings group. They set their own membership qualifications, elect group leaders, and set a minimum amount each member will save—even less than a dollar—at their regular group meetings. Those able to save more purchase savings “shares” to increase their account. Positive peer pressure, along with on-going training, helps members stick to their savings plan, and a transparent system of accounting allows the group to store the money itself in a lock-box (as the minimum requirements of formal banks often put bank accounts out of reach). As the group’s total “pot” of funds accumulates over time, group members can apply for a small loan—often ranging from $15 to $35—which allows a member to access a larger amount of capital at one time. Many invest this into starting or expanding a small income generating activity. All members repay the loans to the group with interest (with the rate decided by the group), so the total loan fund continues to increase, further enabling members to grow and expand their businesses. Through the Savings for Life approach, poor people—especially poor women--rely on their own leadership, set their own standards, depend upon income they generate themselves, and provide mutual support to their fellow members. They own every step of the process, and this is what yields lasting change. In the summer of 2008, World Relief’s local partner in Burundi launched Shigikirana (meaning, “We support each other”), a Savings for Life program in the rural Bujumbora province. In its first year and a half of operations, Shigikirana staff and local community agents have trained over four thousand people in the program’s methodology and projects to reach 55,000 community members by the year 2015. As of the end of February 2010, Shigikirana’s 3,749 active group members have together accumulated more than $29,000 in savings shares. The savings accumulated thus far by the savers of Shigikirana is astounding, especially given that 93 percent of Burundi’s population live on less than $2 per day.[60] Since launching its Burundi program, World Relief has launched Savings for Life programs in Rwanda and Kenya and is considering expanding to India, Haiti, Cambodia, and Malawi. The following anecdotes from Savings for Life , organized around three themes of “wealth,” present African women from Burundi, Rwanda, and Kenya as heroes—indeed, even modern day prophets—overcoming their own poverty and reaching out to their communities in unprecedented ways. The Wealth of Empowerment : African Women Overcoming Poverty Hopelessness, shame, powerlessness, and a lack of self-worth among materially poor women constitute a “marred identity”, or “poverty of being,” which inhibits women from achieving their God-given potential. Ministry must “penetrate despair so that new futures can be believed in and embraced...”[61] Savings groups provide transformative experiences. Women become savers, lenders, managers, stewards, providers, leaders, teammates, caregivers, and active social participants within the communities they live. In managing all of their own operations, they build financial literacy and leadership skills. Many women, after participating in their own group, go on to mobilize other groups within the community. In Burundi, women in Shigikirana’s savings groups are volunteering to act as “community sensitizers,” traveling around their neighborhoods telling people about the groups that are forming and how God is working to transform their situation. Participating in savings group kindles new energy as women become agents of change in their own lives and the lives around them. “Alice is an example of empowerment. Alice is a grandmother and guardian of three young grandchildren, living together in the Ruziba commune of Burundi’s Bujumbura province. Alice’s son died in an accident, leaving his wife and Alice to care for the children with very limited resources. Feeling as if she had no skills or ability to earn an income, she relied on the charity of others in the community to support her and her grandchildren. Alice remembers sitting around each day, helpless, fearing for the future of her grandchildren. After joining a savings group in Ruziba, Alice decided to take a loan of 27,000 Burundian Francs ($21) and she started a small charcoal and flour selling business. As her income grew, she expanded her business to include soap and food items. She plans to expand her business and, as her income grows, buy a plot of land for her grandchildren to live on. When Alice or one of her grandchildren is ill, her group members help support her. Despite her advanced years, Alice perseveres, using her God-given creativity to build a good life for her family. Beatrice, age 37, is a former refugee who has returned home to Burundi. Her husband died four years ago, and while being a widow in a post-conflict country is common, ordinarily a woman’s strength is found in her children. However, Beatrice is barren. This gave her late husband cultural “permission” to take a second wife. After Beatrice’s husband died, his family gave the second wife and her children his assets and possessions, leaving Beatrice with virtually nothing. Stripped her of financial stability and social worth, her husband did leave her with one last thing. Beatrice has HIV. She was living at the bottom of her society, but then one day Beatrice joined a savings group called “Rukundo,” which means “love” in the Kirundi language. Through this savings group, Beatrice met regularly with 20 other women. Her dignity and sense of self-worth grew when the others elected her to be the savings group’s chairperson. Beatrice started to save money little by little. With a small loan from the group, she not only started a small business but was also able to hire someone to help her. She is using the profits to repay the loan and save even more. Her savings group is a source of support and encouragement to her—she is no longer alone. Despite all she has suffered, today Beatrice says she is a blessed woman. She is an empowered woman, “able to sing and dance to heal and to forgive.”[62] The Wealth of Friendship : African Woman Creating Communities of Hope Leveraging and increasing one’s financial assets through savings groups does more than empower. As Walter Brueggemann points out, “the issues of God’s freedom and his will for justice are not always and need not be expressed primarily in the big issues of the day. They can be discerned wherever people try to live together and show concern for their shared future and identity.”[63] The woman saver finds solidarity and a “shared future” with the others in her group. Group meetings provide a space for women to encourage each other, to discuss life concerns, to share their faith and pray together. Members in World Relief’s Savings for Life programs often say that these intangibles are the most important aspect of their participation. Glorious Kayoya, a pastor’s wife of a church in Ruziba, Burundi, is a member of a savings groups that her church helped to promote. Glorious explains that reconciliation in a community affected by years of violent conflict is one of the intangible benefits that savings groups brought to her community: “Before these groups were formed, the members never visited each other. There was great conflict in the church among the members. But when the groups began to form, they were brought together for a purpose. When you have something that brings you together, you get to know each other. You work together. And ultimately, reconciliation takes place. Our church has experienced reconciliation. The conflict has stopped. And together, we see that we have a purpose for what we want to achieve in life.” Another savings group member in Ruziba says this: “There is love. In this group, there is love for each other. When we have a problem now, we go to our group. There is a great love we have to support and help each other that we didn’t have before.” As a one woman’s business grows and prospers, the entire savings group rejoices. If one member faces a financial setback, members help her problem-solve so that she can repay her loan to the group and continue saving. Savings groups form a web of relationships through mutual financial obligations, friendships, and shared tragedies and triumphs. Instead of individuals at the bottom of society buffeted by poverty and circumstance, they women savers work together and become a close-knit team. They all contribute equally to a special “social fund” [64]—a shared emergency reserve used to help those in need. Nancy, a member of the Kisa Group of Kitengela, is a young woman who often brought her infant son to her group’s meetings, until her son grew sick and died. The group, relatively new at this time, took their entire social fund of 500 Kenya Shillings ($7), plus an additional contribution of 500 Shillings to help Nancy cover the costs of burying her son. The group members attended the burial ceremony and comforted Nancy as she grieved her baby’s death. Nancy’s husband was so impressed by the group’s support that he now insists his wife not miss any group meetings. The solidarity and shared future between group members transcends the financial. The encouragement, prayer, and love in times of crisis serve to build a new sense of community. The savings groups become communities of hope “set on a hill”[65] that inspire others. The Wealth of Compassion: African Women as Philanthropists and Activists Women in savings groups exhibit a profound willingness to sacrifice for one another and their community. Some were once so poor that they used to beg, but in time their involvement in savings groups completely reverses the roles. Women in savings groups become philanthropists and activists, extending their modest resources to serve others who are destitute. Among the most marginalized within poor communities in sub-Saharan Africa are people living with HIV and orphaned and vulnerable children. Besides the physical effects, social stigma further isolates those suffering because of HIV and AIDS. Just as Christ reached out to lepers and those considered “unclean” in his time, women in savings groups are serving the marginalized in their societies. In Gitega, Burundi, two savings groups were moved by the needs of two homeless, HIV-positive women. In both circumstances, the groups supported the women by building a house. One of the groups used their social fund to purchase the materials while another of the members participated in construction. In the second case, the group built the house but lacked the final funds for the construction of the roof. A town administrator passing by the house stopped and asked the group members what they were doing. When he heard how they were building a house for a woman living with HIV, the administrator mobilized the remaining funds needed to complete the roof. Two women’s lives have been permanently changed as women in savings groups live out compassion. Women in savings groups in Burundi, Kenya, and Rwanda serve as platforms for reaching out to vulnerable children in their communities. Aninette Nzisabira, a Burundian housewife, could not really imagine the benefits of being in a savings groups when she first joined. Her attitude changed when she received a loan of 20,000 Burundi Francs ($16) from the group to purchase a goat. In time, she bought a sewing machine and started a small tailoring business sewing table linens. Growing up as an orphan herself, Aninette had long dreamed of supporting and caring for other orphans but was constrained by her financial situation. Today, Aninette says, “Now I have an orphan under my care, and I will train her in life skills like making table cloths. We can work together in my shop and our future will be changed for the better.” Poverty no longer paralyzes Aninette’s ability to help, and her increased income has not made her forget what she once suffered. Instead, she lives out a new compassion. Rose is the chairperson of the Noonkipir Group in Kenya, a group of 16 women that meets in a small space behind the beauty shop of the group’s record keeper. Many children are orphaned in her community many by the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Orphans visit Rose on a daily basis; some sleep on her floor. One day, as she presided over her group’s meeting, Rose burst into tears of grief. She felt helpless and broken by the needs of the orphans in the community, whom she is unable to support by herself. Together her group decided to mandate in their constitution that a percentage of the group’s social fund would go to support orphans within their community. And after one meeting, the entire social fund was given to two older orphans who are the sole caregivers of their younger siblings. The group has also decided that as they conduct their end of the year share out, they will each dedicate a portion of their profits to orphans. This savings group is making a tangible, significant difference in the lives of vulnerable children around them. As their social fund continues to replenish itself through the on-going savings activities, their impact will only grow. African women, once considered poor and destitute, are reaching out to help widows, orphans, and people living with HIV and AIDS in their communities. Most importantly, these women are serving others from their own resources, out of their own strength and initiative. Their actions go far beyond a traditional view of wealth as they overcome poverty and injustice through restoration and compassion. Conclusion Elizabeth is a woman of faith and dreams. A widow, Elizabeth lives with her three children, two of whom are grown and, the third, 12 years old. In the small town of Biraka, Kenya, Elizabeth joined the Biraka Miracle group. “Biraka” in the Maasai language means “water trough,” the promise of sustenance and refreshment. Elizabeth earns an income by cooking and selling french fries, but her dream is to become a shopkeeper. From the door of the building where her savings group meets, she can look across the town’s main road and see the small, grey office building where there are spaces for rent. She wants to save enough money to rent a space with a loan from her group, to start her own shop. She says that though she has little now, she continues to wait on God. She knows God has a future for her, a better future. For women like Elizabeth, savings groups create dreams; they midwife the future and allow women to realize and express their God-given wealth. Savings groups turn everyday women into entrepreneurs, prophets, activists, and philanthropists. “Her children arise,” many “call her blessed”[66]and she transforms the world around her. As we contemplate wealth, poverty, and power in our world today, let us not forget Isaiah’s invitation, “…to loose the chains on injustice…to set the oppressed free and break every yoke.”[67]But, let us remember to join the oppressed, fully understanding their chains before we seek to remove their yoke. Let’s explore, together, with the oppressed, “inside-out” solutions before assuming “outside-in” ones are necessary. Let’s not underestimate the wealth of the poor. To our astonishment, with the help of our Lord and Savior, the oppressed might just continue to remove their own yokes and dance upon their graves of despair. [1] Stephan Bauman ( sbauman@wr.org ) is the Senior Vice President of Programs at World Relief, ( www.worldrelief.org ) where he oversees several thousand staff in 20 nations worldwide working to empower the poor through economic development, community health, refugee and immigrant services, peace building, and disaster relief. Wendy Wellman ( wwellman@wr.org ) is the Savings-Led Technical Advisor in the Economic Development technical team of World Relief, supporting programs in Kenya, Rwanda, and Burundi. Megan Laughlin ( mlaughlin@wr.org ), is the Child Development Technical Advisor for World Relief, supporting programs worldwide. [2] Translated from the Twi language, Ghana. [3] Of the approximately 6.5 billion people in our world, about 4 billion live on less than $4 per day. One billion of these live on between $2 and $4 per day—another, between $1 and $2 a day. The remaining billion live on less than a dollar. Collier, P., The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries Are Failing and What Can Be Done About It by (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), p. 29. [4] The Red Campaign , www.redcampaign.0rg . [5] From Freedom from Hunger , at www.freedomfromhunger.org [6]Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress Press, 2002), p. 65. [7]While we are focusing on the microfinance movement, there are other profound movements underway. Take, for example, Liberia. What began as a prayer movement among women of Liberia to end the civil war culminated in the election of the continent’s first female president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, who champions the empowerment of women. [8]Based on 130 million clients worldwide, 80 percent of whom are women, Microcredit Summit Campaign (www.microcreditsummit.org ) [9]Bruce, Bradshaw, Bridging the Gap: Evangelism, Development, and Shalom (Monrovia, CA: Marc Publishing, 1994). [10] Genesis 2. [11] Spiritual Capital, a subset of social capital, is the power or influence created by a person’s or communities’ religious beliefs and practices (Liu, Alex.” Measuring Spiritual Capital as a Latent Variable”. RM Institute, California, 2007.) [12]Genesis 12:1 [13] David Befus and Stephan Bauman, “Economic Justice for the Poor,” in Holistic Mission: Occasional Paper No. 33 , Lausanne Committee for World Evangelization, 2004, online. [14]Ronald Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2005), p. 89. [15]Matthew 6:2-4. [16]See, for example, Acts 2:45 [17]Psalm 24:1. [18]“How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the Kingdom of God,” in Luke 18:24, Matthew 19:23, and Mark 10:23 [19]“No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” Matthew 6:24 [20]Mathew 6:33 [21] Michael Novak, quoted by Dinesh D’Souza, Virtue of Prosperity: Finding Values in an Age of Techo-Affluence (New York: Free Press, 2000), pp. 143-144 [22] Craig Blomberg, Neither Poverty Nor Riches (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 1999), p. 242. [23] Roy McCloughry, “Basic Stott” (Christianity Today , 40, January 8, 1996), p. 29. [24] See, for example, Ron Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2005), pp. 122-132. [25] Former President Bill Clinton publically apologized for policies that led to the failure of Haiti’s rice and other crops. See “With Cheap Food Imports, Haiti Can’t Feed Itself,” Washington Post , March 20, 2010, online. [26] Roger Thurow Scott Kilman, Enough: Whey the World’s Poorest Starve in an Age of Plenty (New York: Public Affairs, 2009), p. xviii [27]Bryant Myers, Walking with the Poor (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1999), p. 36. [28]For a good explanation of systemic, or structural, sin, see Ron Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2005). [29]Luke 10:27. [30]Deepa Narayan, Voices of the Poor: Can Anyone Hear Us? (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2002), p.2. [31] Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2009), p. 53. [32] Connie Harris Ostwald, “A Deeper Look at Poverty: Challenges for Evangelical Development Workers.” Transformation , Volume 26 No 2, April 2009, pp. 135. [33]Bryant Myers, Walking with the Poor (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1999), p. 76 [34]David Barret and Todd Johnston, T., World Christian Trends , (William Cary Library Publishers: Pasadena, CA, 2003). [35]Clinton, H.R., “Remarks at the UN Commission on the Status of Women,” March 12, 2010, New York, online at www.state.gov/secretary/rm/2010/138320.htm [36] “Gendercide ” , The Economist , March 6th, 2010, p., 13. [37] Mark 15:40-41 [38]John 4:39. [39]Luke 7:47. [40]John 20:16. [41] See for example Isaiah 58 among many. [42] Vine's Expository Dictionary of Biblical Words . (Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1985), online. [43] John R. Schneider, The Good of Affluence: Seeking God in a Culture of Wealth (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), p. 117. [44]In the Hebrew culture of Jesus’ day, “…one’s status in a community was not so much a function of economic realities, but depended on…education, gender, family heritage, religious purity, vocation, and economics.” Joel Green, The Gospel of Luke , (Erdmanns: East Lansing, Michigan, 1997), p. 210 [45]For a full treatment of this concept, see Jurgan Moltmann, The Crucified God (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1993). [46] David Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission , (Maryknoll, NY.: Orbis Books, 1991) [47] Quoted by Ron Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2005), p. 125. [48]Leslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Grand Rapids, Eerdmanns, 1989), p. 129. [49] Ibid , p. 134. [50] Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2009), p. 67 [51] Westerners must recognize the superiority they convey, intentional or not, to those in the majority world. [52] Often characterized as becoming “a voice for the poor”. [53] In Pedagogy of the Oppressed (New York: Continuum Books, 1990), Paulo Friere refers to this as “conscientization”, that is, when the poor move from being mere objects in the process of change to actually becoming subjects, or change agents. [54] Jaykumar Christian, tackles this subject by identifying “poverty of being” and “poverty of vocation” as the deepest and worst forms of poverty. See Bryant Myers, Walking with the Poor (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis, 1999). [55] Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2009), p 126 [56] Rowen Williams, “Relating Intelligently to Religion”, Guardian.co. uk, November 12, 2009, online. [57]CGAP Focus Note 24, World Bank, online. [58]Nicolas Kristoff and Sheryl Wudunn, Half the Sky (New York: Knopf Publishing, 2009), p. 191. [59] For more information, see CGAP Focus Note 37, “Safe and Accessible: Bringing Poor Savers into the Formal Financial System,” http://www.microfinancegateway.org/gm/document-1.9.28097/36533_file_04.pdf , September 2006 [60] Burundi Fact Sheet, UN Human Development Report 2009, http://hdrstats.undp.org/en/countries/data_sheets/cty_ds_BDI.html [61] Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2002), p 117 [62] Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2002), p 112 [63] Ibid, p 117 [64] The social fund of a saving group is an emergency reserve used to support members in times of distress. Group members contribute equally to the fund at each meeting, in amounts usually one-fourth to one-half of the amount of share. The social fund acts similar to an insurance product. It is very unlike an insurance policy, however, because members decide when and how to use the social fund to show compassion to their peers facing crises. For example, one savings group in Kenya distributes $27 grants to members experiencing a death or severe illness in a family, or for other major life events such as paying for the wedding of a family member. [65] Matthew 5:14 [66] Proverbs 31:28 [67]Isaiah 58:6 Previous Home Next

< Back The Wisdom of Wisdom Part I Learning How to Live Some books of the Bible tell a story. Others proclaim God’s message through prophecy. Some record the history of God’s people. The Book of Proverbs does none of these. Instead, it asks a simple but profound question: How should we live? The opening verses introduce the purpose of the book:“The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel: for gaining wisdom and instruction; for understanding words of insight; for receiving instruction in prudent behavior, doing what is right and just and fair… The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction.” These words are much more than an introduction. They are Solomon’s invitation to a lifetime of learning. When most Christians think about the Old Testament, they naturally think first of Genesis, the Exodus, David and Goliath, Elijah on Mount Carmel, or Isaiah’s great prophecies of the coming Messiah. Those are the stories we learned as children, and rightly so. They form the great narrative of God’s work among His people. Yet tucked quietly into the center of the Old Testament lies another collection of books that often receives far less attention. Scholars call them the Wisdom Literature. They include Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon. Collectively they occupy nearly as much space in the Old Testament as the five books of Moses. Yet many Christians spend little time reading them beyond the familiar Psalms and an occasional proverb quoted in a devotional. That is unfortunate. The Wisdom Literature was Israel’s handbook for everyday living. The Law told Israel what was right and wrong. Wisdom taught them how to live wisely within those boundaries. The Ten Commandments tell us not to steal. Proverbs teaches us how to become trustworthy. The Law commands us not to bear false witness. Wisdom teaches us when to speak, when to remain silent, and how words can heal or destroy. The Law condemns greed. Wisdom teaches us contentment. One reveals God’s standards. The other teaches God’s people how to embody those standards in ordinary life. That is why Proverbs is unlike almost any other book in Scripture. It contains no sustained storyline. Its chapters move from one subject to another with surprising speed. One verse may discuss money, the next friendship, the next anger, then laziness, honesty, marriage, justice, pride, or speech. At first glance the book can feel almost random. But only at first glance. As you read through Proverbs, certain themes begin appearing again and again like familiar landmarks on a journey. They become the threads that weave hundreds of individual sayings into one beautiful tapestry. Three of those themes appear repeatedly throughout the book. The first is the tender invitation, “My son…” Solomon uses this expression over and over again as though an aging father were sitting beside a younger friend, patiently sharing what life has taught him. The second is the word “better.” Again and again Proverbs compares one way of living with another. Better a little with righteousness than great wealth with injustice. Better patience than power. Better humility than pride. Wisdom continually reminds us that the best things in life cannot always be measured by money, influence, or success. The third theme is the phrase, “The fear of the Lord.” It appears so often that it becomes the foundation upon which every other proverb rests. Wisdom does not begin with intelligence, education, or experience. It begins with reverence. Together these three themes answer life’s greatest questions. Who should I listen to? How should I choose? Upon what foundation should I build my life? Those questions are no less important today than they were three thousand years ago. Our age has accumulated astonishing knowledge. We can communicate instantly around the globe, map the human genome, explore distant planets, and place nearly all the world’s information into a device that fits inside a pocket. Yet knowledge alone has never guaranteed wisdom. We know more than any previous generation. Whether we live better is another question altogether. The modern world suffers no shortage of information. It suffers from a shortage of wisdom. Perhaps that is why Proverbs feels so surprisingly contemporary. Solomon understood that the greatest decisions we face are rarely between obvious good and obvious evil. More often they are choices between what is merely attractive and what is truly better. That is the wisdom Solomon longs to pass along. And perhaps that is the wisdom we need most today. Previous Home Next

< Back Breakthrough The first time I witnessed what I would later call a spiritual breakthrough was not in a classroom or a seminary. It happened during a worship service in a small church in the village of Soraganen, just outside Yogyakarta in Central Java, Indonesia. The congregation was small and the church was still young. During the service a man in his twenties quietly asked if he could share something with the people. He walked to the front carrying a recently acquired Bible translated into his own mother tongue, Javanese. Although most Indonesian Christians read the Scriptures in Bahasa Indonesia, the country’s national language, this Bible spoke to him in the language of his childhood. He explained that he had discovered a passage in Revelation that had deeply moved him and wanted to read it aloud. The text was Revelation 4:11: “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.” To understand what happened next, one must understand something about Javanese culture. In Javanese tradition, poetry is not simply read—it is chanted. For centuries the great stories of the Ramayana have been performed in all-night shadow puppet plays. The puppeteer, known as the dalang , chants the poetic lines while bringing the leather puppets to life. Every Javanese child grows up recognizing this unique style of storytelling. So when this young Christian reached Revelation 4—a passage written in poetic form—he instinctively did what came naturally. He began to chant the words. At first a few people smiled. Some even chuckled quietly because they had never heard Scripture presented that way. But then something remarkable happened. The laughter faded. A deep silence settled over the congregation. Several people began to weep. In that simple moment the Gospel broke through barriers that had stood for generations. The worship of the living God no longer sounded foreign or imported. It spoke with the rhythms and beauty of their own language and culture. The Scriptures had become unmistakably their own. I have never forgotten that morning. It was a holy moment. It was a breakthrough. That experience has shaped the way I read John’s Gospel. Long before Christianity spread across Europe or reached the shores of America, another breakthrough occurred in the ancient city of Ephesus. There, too, the Gospel crossed a cultural boundary. There, too, people began to think differently because of Jesus Christ. More than forty years had passed since the death and resurrection of Jesus when the Apostle John became the leader of the Christian community in Ephesus. Peter and Paul had already been martyred in Rome. Paul’s letters had circulated throughout the growing churches from Jerusalem to Rome. Matthew, Mark, and Luke had each written accounts of Jesus’ life. John was the last surviving apostle. As an old man, he faced a challenge unlike that of the earlier Gospel writers. Matthew wrote primarily for Jews. Mark and Luke also assumed readers who understood Israel’s history and the promises of the Old Testament. John, however, was living among people whose minds had been shaped not by Abraham and Moses but by Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates. His congregation was Greek. That difference changed everything. John did not need merely to tell the story of Jesus again. He needed to explain Jesus in language that made sense to people whose worldview had been formed by Greek philosophy, Greek politics, Greek literature, and Greek religion. In many ways, John’s Gospel is the story of Christianity learning to speak a new language without changing its message. That is one reason John’s Gospel feels so different from the other three. There is no Christmas story with shepherds or wise men. There is no manger, no guiding star, and no angels announcing Christ’s birth. Instead, John opens with words that stretch beyond Bethlehem to the very beginning of creation: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” The differences continue throughout the book. While Matthew, Mark, and Luke often portray Jesus teaching large crowds, John focuses on personal encounters. Nicodemus comes by night with his questions. A Samaritan woman meets Jesus beside a well. A crippled man waits beside the Pool of Bethesda. A man born blind receives both sight and faith. Martha and Mary grieve the death of Lazarus. These are not merely miracle stories. They are conversations that invite people to rethink everything they thought they knew about God, truth, and life itself. John also emphasizes eternal life far more than the Kingdom of God, the dominant theme of the other Gospels. Nearly half of his Gospel is devoted to the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry, slowing the pace so readers can listen carefully to Christ’s final words. Why? Because John was not simply recording history. He was helping a Greek world discover Christ. That matters because, whether we realize it or not, we have inherited much of the same Greek way of thinking. Our ideas about democracy, education, philosophy, architecture, public debate, individual rights, and even the organization of our cities all bear the fingerprints of ancient Greece. When America’s founders searched history for a model of self-government, they looked far more to Athens than to the monarchies of Europe. In many respects, we are heirs of the same intellectual tradition that shaped the people of Ephesus. That means John’s Gospel was written not only for them. It was written for us. To understand why John’s opening words carried such extraordinary power, we must first understand the remarkable city in which he lived and ministered. Previous Home Next

< Back After the Wave The first time I visited Aceh was in February 2005, just six weeks after the Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami. I expected to see the devastation left by the great wave. Instead, what first struck me was the earthquake itself. Crumbled buildings stretched in every direction, silent reminders that one of the largest earthquakes in recorded history had struck before the sea came ashore. Today, it is difficult to imagine that anything so terrible ever happened in Banda Aceh. At that time, Banda Aceh felt like a forgotten frontier. There wasn’t a single hotel with hot water. Roads were narrow, broken, and riddled with potholes. Rubble still lay in great heaps across the city. Beyond the physical destruction, however, the city seemed frozen in another era. For thirty years Aceh had been the site of a bitter civil war that few people outside Indonesia even knew existed. Foreigners were barred from entering, and Indonesians from other parts of the country could scarcely travel there either. The tsunami changed all of that overnight. Aid workers from around the world poured into Aceh, bringing an unprecedented outpouring of compassion and resources. One representative from a humanitarian organization told us that his agency alone had fifty million dollars to invest in recovery. Years later, many organizations still had funds remaining, in addition to the billions contributed by governments through international relief efforts. The transformation was remarkable. Everyone we spoke with said life was better than before the disaster. The war had ended—an unexpected blessing born from unspeakable tragedy. Construction was everywhere. New homes, ports, roads, schools, and factories were rising across the province. My hotel was brand new, the staff were well trained, and they took genuine pride in serving their guests. The economy was recovering with surprising speed. Just as important were the investments in people. Children were being vaccinated. Programs to improve the health of mothers and young children were underway throughout the province. Schools were reopening, and the government was investing heavily in education. Hope had returned alongside reconstruction. Yet about one hundred kilometers from Banda Aceh, we visited a small village in the sub-district of Batee near Sigli, on the shore of the Indian Ocean. Before the tsunami, it was almost impossible to reach. Surrounded by a maze of shrimp and fish ponds, the village was effectively isolated from the rest of the province. Life there had always been difficult. Families depended almost entirely on shrimp and fish ponds enclosed by earthen dikes. Using simple water gates, they managed the flow of fresh water from nearby rivers, stocked the ponds with shrimp or fish, and harvested them by draining the ponds. There was little access to inland markets, relentless heat, clouds of mosquitoes, and few opportunities beyond daily survival. These were among the poorest people in Aceh. The ponds stretched for miles along the coast. When the tsunami arrived, the wave—nearly thirty meters high at this point—swept over everything with unimaginable force. The dikes collapsed, the ponds filled with mud, and entire families disappeared. Some were buried where they lived or worked; others were carried back to sea. The landscape was flattened, and with it, much of the community’s history. World Relief built a three-kilometer road into the village, making access possible for the first time. They constructed a school, built forty-six homes there and another 170 in an even more isolated village nearby, and restored 160 hectares of fish and shrimp ponds. I was proud of the assessment team that found these forgotten communities and made sure they were not overlooked. Yet despite all that had been accomplished, life remained hard. Poverty still marked every household. Before entering the village, we were asked not to speak with the residents because of local religious sensitivities. We could take photographs discreetly, but conversation was discouraged. The women, dressed in long skirts and head coverings in keeping with their Islamic faith, stood neck-deep in the muddy river searching for shrimp and crabs with simple hand tools. The men watched us quietly from the shade of their homes. I wanted to speak with them. Their hearts, too, must have been filled with mud—the buried memories of loved ones swept away, the terror of that terrible morning, and the lingering fear that every peaceful sea might one day turn violent again. It felt strangely incomplete to photograph their new homes and leave without exchanging even a few words. As we drove away, I remembered a shopkeeper in Banda Aceh telling me that the water had reached the second floor of his store. “How long did it stay that high?” I had asked. “About fifteen minutes,” he replied. “Then it rushed back to the ocean.” As we turned toward our hotel, we looked once more across the Indian Ocean. The water shimmered a brilliant blue beneath the afternoon sun. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze. White surf rolled quietly onto the dark sand. Everything appeared peaceful, almost idyllic. How could something so calm become such a monster? Billions of dollars in aid testify to the extraordinary compassion people are capable of showing when tragedy strikes. I remain grateful for the small part I was privileged to play in that story. My thoughts drifted to another journey several years earlier. In October 2001, only one month after the attacks of September 11, six of us visited three groups of pastors in the Republic of Congo. Before we could say a word, every group asked us exactly the same question: “How are you Americans doing?” Those words, spoken by people who themselves possessed so little, have stayed with me ever since. Their concern crossed every cultural and economic boundary. As we left Batee that day, I found myself wishing I could have asked its people the very same question. “How are you doing?” Previous Home Next

< Back Immigration in the Bible It is helpful to view today’s debate over immigration against the backdrop of migration throughout Scripture. God called Abraham to leave his home in what is now Iraq and journey to the land of Canaan as a foreigner and sojourner. Soon after his arrival, local kings captured his nephew Lot and his family, reminding us that strangers have often faced hostility and insecurity in the lands where they settled. Later, Joseph lived as a foreigner in Egypt. Though separated from his family and homeland, God raised him to a position of influence where he became a blessing to the nation that had adopted him. Yet Israel’s experience in Egypt also reminds us how quickly hospitality can give way to fear. A new Pharaoh arose “who did not know Joseph,” and the descendants of Israel were enslaved and oppressed. During the Exodus, the Israelites experienced another side of migration. As they crossed the wilderness, neighboring peoples often refused them food, water, or even permission to travel through their territory. Their journey reminds us that migrants have frequently depended upon the kindness—or suffered from the hostility—of those they encountered. Centuries later, God Himself sent His people into exile in Babylon. Through the prophet Jeremiah He instructed them: “Build houses and settle down… Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” (Jeremiah 29:5–7) Even in exile, God’s people were to become a blessing to their adopted land. Yet the Book of Esther reminds us that they also lived under the constant threat of prejudice and even annihilation. Because of Israel’s own history, God repeatedly commanded His people to treat foreigners with compassion: “The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:34) The New Testament expands this vision still further. James reminded the Jerusalem church that God was “taking from the Gentiles a people for himself” (Acts 15:14). Paul later declared that God “made from one man every nation of mankind” and determined where they would live so that people might seek Him (Acts 17:26–27). In God’s eyes, both Jew and Gentile are equally valued and equally invited into His family. The Bible concludes with history’s greatest migration. People from every tribe, language, people, and nation gather around the throne of God in joyful worship. The barriers that once divided humanity are finally overcome in the Kingdom of Christ. Migration, then, is not merely a modern phenomenon. Throughout history people have moved in search of safety, opportunity, freedom, family, and God’s calling. As long as there are wars, persecution, famine, oppression, natural disasters, and economic hardship, people will continue to leave places of vulnerability in search of hope elsewhere. The Church sometimes finds itself among those who migrate. At other times it belongs to the communities that receive newcomers. In every circumstance, however, Christians are called to be God’s people—seeking the welfare of the places where they live while extending compassion, justice, and hospitality to the stranger. The Apostle Paul reminds believers of their own spiritual story: “Remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.” (Ephesians 2:12–13) Modern immigration presents difficult questions that involve national security, public policy, economics, and humanitarian concerns. Christians may reach different conclusions about the best political solutions. Yet Scripture leaves little doubt about one principle: every migrant bears the image of God and deserves to be treated with dignity and justice. As we wrestle with the challenges of our own generation, we should remember Abraham, Joseph, Israel in Egypt, the exiles in Babylon, and even Jesus, whose family sought refuge in Egypt when His life was threatened. Their stories remind us that behind every debate are real people, many of whom seek the same things God’s people have sought throughout history: safety, opportunity, and a place to call home. An African pastor friend of mine from Kenya once summarized Christian ministry in five simple words: “First, do no harm.” That is wise counsel whenever we speak about people on the move. Previous Home Next

< Back Advent Conspiracy My wife and I were doing our Christmas shopping one weekend when I found myself thinking about a pastor friend who has challenged our family to see Christmas in a completely different way—not as a shopping season, but as a conspiracy. His point is simple. Somewhere along the way, Christmas was quietly captured by consumerism. Every year we spend billions of dollars on gifts that soon break, wear out, or lose their appeal, often leaving us with debt long after the decorations have been packed away. Our economy depends less on what we produce than on how much we consume. Meanwhile, millions of people around the world struggle to survive on just a few dollars a day. Something has gone wrong. My friend believes the first Christmas invites us into a different kind of conspiracy—a conspiracy of life. That thought reminds me of an insight from C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity . Lewis points out that the New Testament uses two different Greek words for life. The first is bios , from which we derive the word biology . Bios refers to our physical existence—the life that depends on food, water, air, shelter, and constant care. It is precious, but it is also temporary. Everything that belongs to bios eventually wears out, including our bodies and, for that matter, most of the things we buy. The second word is zoe . This is the life that belongs to God himself—eternal, abundant, and inexhaustible. It is the life Jesus possessed and came to share with the world. Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus met people’s immediate physical needs, yet he always pointed beyond them to something greater. He offered water to a weary Samaritan woman but promised her Living Water that would never run dry. He fed more than five thousand hungry people, yet declared himself to be the Bread of Life. He raised Lazarus from the dead, but then proclaimed, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Finally, through his own death and resurrection, he opened the way for all who believe to receive eternal life. Jesus continually brought zoe into a world limited by bios . That is the true Advent conspiracy. So perhaps we should think differently about Christmas. Instead of asking, “What can I buy?” we might ask, “How can I give life?” Give gifts that carry something of yourself. Write a letter that expresses your love. Create something with your own hands. Spend unhurried time with your children or grandchildren. Share a meal. Tell family stories. Make memories that will outlast the latest gadget or fashion. In other words, give more than presents. Give yourself. There is another way to join this conspiracy as well. If bios is the fragile, temporary life we all possess, consider giving a significant portion of your Christmas budget to organizations that bring both practical help and the hope of Christ to people living in poverty. Meet immediate needs, but also support those who share the life that Jesus came to give. The first Christmas was never about consuming more. It was about God giving himself. Perhaps the best way to celebrate Christmas is to join his conspiracy—by giving life. Advent Conspiracy is an annual Christmas movement that encourages believers to worship fully, spend less, give more, and love all. Learn more at adventconspiracy.org. Previous Home Next

< Back Notes from Cambodia Two lasting impressions emerged from my visits to churches in Southeast Asia and Africa. First, I found a deep desire to see the gospel authenticated through ministries of compassion to the poor. Second, I found an equally strong desire for churches to work together in partnership rather than in isolation. Wherever these two realities came together, churches came alive with fresh spiritual vitality, and communities began to experience new life. I witnessed this vividly in Cambodia. On the outskirts of Phnom Penh we visited a small support group of fifteen people living in a desperate slum. Twelve of them were HIV positive. At first glance, it seemed like a place where despair would be overwhelming. Instead, I encountered hope. Most of the group members were receiving antiretroviral medications and were responding well to treatment. But what struck me most was not their physical condition—it was their spirit. They laughed together. They talked about the future. They encouraged one another. Their hope did not come merely from medicine, but from the love they had found in Christ and the support they experienced through their church community. One woman especially captured my attention. She appeared gravely ill. Slowly and through tears, she told us her story. Her first husband had infected her with HIV and later died. Her second husband fathered a child and then abandoned the family. Eventually she became too weak to care for herself or her children. It was during that darkest season that members of this small church reached out to her and introduced her to Jesus Christ. As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. Quietly, others in the group reached over to stroke her arm, embrace her, and assure her that they would continue caring for her. They knew they might soon face the same future themselves, yet the atmosphere was filled not with fear but with hope. It was, in the truest sense, new life in the midst of death. Two middle-aged men sat quietly at the edge of the group. They had only recently learned that they too were HIV positive. Unlike the others, they were not yet believers. As they shared their stories, they also wept—but their tears were different. They spoke of shame, regret, fear, and uncertainty. They had come because they had heard this group possessed something they desperately needed, though they could not yet describe it. Patiently, local Christian workers explained the hope found in Jesus Christ. Around the circle, the other members nodded gently in agreement. Their words carried weight because their lives gave credibility to the message. As I watched, I found myself thinking, This is holistic ministry.T he physical and the spiritual were inseparable. Medicine cared for diseased bodies. The church cared for wounded hearts. The gospel brought hope that reached beyond both. The transformed lives of these believers authenticated the message they proclaimed. One other lesson became increasingly clear during this journey. The Holy Spirit seems to be impressing upon church leaders around the world the necessity of working together. The challenges confronting today’s communities—poverty, disease, broken families, violence, and injustice—are too large for isolated congregations to address alone. They require the whole church working together to demonstrate the whole gospel to the whole community. Where churches unite around both evangelism and compassionate service, remarkable transformation follows. I became convinced that this partnership offers one of the greatest hopes for confronting crises such as HIV/AIDS. As I reflected on these experiences, my thoughts returned to John the Baptist. From prison, John sent messengers to ask Jesus, “Are you the One who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” Jesus did not answer with an argument or a theological treatise. Instead, He pointed to what was happening around Him. “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.” In other words, Jesus allowed His works of compassion to authenticate His identity as the Messiah. That is exactly what I witnessed in Cambodia. People found hope for their bodies, hope for their relationships, hope for their future, and ultimately hope for eternal life through the gospel of Jesus Christ. Their transformed lives became living evidence that Christ was present among them. The gospel was not merely being preached. It was being seen. Previous Home Next

< Back Restored Dominion Seeing the Kingdom of God Through God's Original Purpose The message of this website grows out of a simple conviction: the Bible is the story of God restoring what humanity lost. The opening chapters of Genesis reveal God's purpose for men and women. Created in the image of God, humanity was given the privilege and responsibility of exercising wise dominion over creation under God's loving reign. Dominion was never intended to be domination. It was the stewardship of God's world in ways that produced life, justice, beauty, and human flourishing. Sin shattered that calling. Christians often think of sin primarily as individual moral failure. Personal sin is certainly real, and Scripture speaks plainly about it. Yet the Bible also reveals that sin extends far beyond individual choices. It corrupts relationships, institutions, cultures, and even nations. Sin robs people of the freedom and responsibility God intended for them. It is, in every sense, the loss of dominion. This loss of dominion appears in many forms. Some people lose dominion through personal bondage. Alcoholism, drug addiction, gambling, pornography, and other destructive habits gradually become masters rather than servants. Scripture warns that what promises freedom often becomes slavery. Others lose dominion through the consequences of wrongdoing. Crime, violence, dishonesty, broken families, and shattered trust leave wounds that often extend far beyond the individual. Many people lose dominion because others exercise illegitimate power over them. Abuse, exploitation, corruption, racism, predatory economic practices, human trafficking, and unjust governments are all examples of what Bryant Myers describes as "others playing God in our lives." The prophets condemned such oppression, and Jesus confronted it wherever He found it. Still others are born into circumstances they did not create. Weak institutions, poor education, disease, geographic isolation, dysfunctional social systems, and generational poverty limit opportunities for millions of people. While these conditions are not always the direct result of individual sin, they often reflect generations of injustice, neglect, and the cumulative effects of humanity's rebellion against God's purposes. Finally, war, persecution, tyranny, and political violence rob entire societies of dominion. Families are displaced, economies collapse, education is interrupted, and hope is lost for generations. Human history repeatedly demonstrates how the pursuit of power by a few can diminish the lives of millions. These realities help explain why Jesus announced the coming of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom is God's answer to every form of lost dominion. Through the cross, Christ reconciles us to God. Through the resurrection, He inaugurates God's new creation. Through the Holy Spirit, He transforms human hearts. But the story does not end there. Jesus did not merely gather forgiven individuals. He formed a community. Modern Christianity sometimes emphasizes a personal relationship with Christ so strongly that it unintentionally overlooks one of Scripture's central themes: God is creating a people who live under His reign. The Kingdom of God is not simply about isolated individuals going to heaven. It is about God restoring humanity's original calling through a redeemed community. This is why the New Testament places such importance on the Church. We bear one another's burdens. We forgive one another. We share with those in need. We welcome strangers. We seek justice. We care for widows, orphans, prisoners, and the poor. Together we become a living demonstration of God's reign breaking into the present world. An individual believer, no matter how faithful, cannot by himself overcome every force that diminishes human flourishing. One person cannot end addiction, abolish human trafficking, rebuild neighborhoods devastated by poverty, care for every refugee, or heal the wounds of war. But a community living under the reign of Christ begins to restore what sin has stolen. The Kingdom advances as God's people embody His character together. History illustrates this truth. Seasons of spiritual renewal, such as the Great Awakenings, did not bring every person to faith in Christ. Yet they strengthened families, inspired education, challenged slavery, encouraged philanthropy, expanded missions, promoted reform, and increased opportunities for human flourishing across generations. The influence of God's Kingdom extended far beyond those who personally embraced the gospel. For this reason, the purpose of this website is not merely to discuss theology. It is to celebrate the Kingdom of God at work in the world. The articles, books, historical studies, humanitarian reflections, and biblical resources gathered here all point toward one hope: that under the reign of King Jesus, people and communities can increasingly recover the freedom, responsibility, and dignity for which they were created. This is what I mean by **Restored Dominion**. It is the biblical vision that God is restoring humanity to its original calling through Jesus Christ. As men and women are reconciled to God, formed into communities shaped by His Spirit, and sent into the world as ambassadors of His Kingdom, they become participants in God's great work of renewing all things. Until Christ returns, that restoration will always be incomplete. Yet wherever the reign of God is welcomed, the restoration has already begun. Previous Home Next

< Back You Matter There is something strange happening in America. We are more connected than any generation in history, yet many people have never felt more alone. We can communicate instantly with people across the world. We can see photographs of their families, read their opinions, and follow their daily lives. Yet millions of people quietly wonder if anyone truly knows them, notices them, or would miss them if they disappeared. Loneliness has become one of the defining experiences of our age. That should not surprise us. America inherited much from the ancient Greeks, including a strong emphasis on individual freedom, personal achievement, and self-determination. We value freedom, independence, self-reliance, and individual achievement. We are taught to stand on our own feet, think for ourselves, pursue our own dreams, and create our own identity. These are not bad things. They have contributed greatly to human flourishing. There is a hidden danger. When life becomes centered on the individual, people can become isolated from one another. We may be surrounded by people and still feel unseen. We may achieve success and still wonder whether our lives matter. The ancient Greeks understood this tension. They pursued wisdom, knowledge, virtue, and human flourishing. Yet they also recognized the tragedy of human existence. Life was often fragile, uncertain, and brief. Death eventually claimed everyone. Meaning could be difficult to find. It was into that world that the Apostle John wrote his Gospel. He did not write primarily to people asking how to become Jewish. He wrote to people asking how to live. His answer was not a philosophy. His answer was a person. Again and again, John tells the story of ordinary individuals whose lives were changed by an encounter with Jesus. A respected religious leader named Nicodemus discovered that knowledge alone could not satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. A Samaritan woman carrying shame discovered that she was fully known and still loved. A disabled man who had spent decades waiting beside a pool discovered that his future was not determined by his past. A woman facing public condemnation discovered grace. A blind man discovered both sight and purpose. A grieving family discovered that death does not have the final word. What is striking is that Jesus never treated people as crowds. He met individuals. He listened. He asked questions. He saw people others overlooked. In every encounter, Jesus communicated the same message: You matter, not because you are powerful, or successful, or wealthy, educated, attractive, or influential. You matter because you are loved by God. Many people spend their lives trying to prove their worth. They seek recognition, accomplishment, status, possessions, or approval. Yet even when these things are achieved, the emptiness often remains. Why? Because human beings were created for relationship. We were created to know God and to know one another. The loneliness that many people experience is not simply the absence of company. It is often the absence of being truly seen, known, and loved. Jesus consistently moved toward people who felt forgotten. He noticed those sitting alone. He welcomed those others avoided. He restored dignity to people whose lives had been reduced to labels, failures, disabilities, or mistakes. He treated people as persons rather than problems. That is why so many people remain fascinated by Jesus even when they have become disillusioned with religion. Jesus has a way of making people feel seen. The Gospel of John calls this eternal life. For many people, eternal life means life after death. John certainly includes that hope. But he means something more. Eternal life begins now. It begins when a person discovers that life is more than survival, more than achievement, more than success, and more than the fear of death. It begins when a person discovers that they are known and loved by God; when people learn to love God and their neighbors; when communities are shaped by grace instead of condemnation, service instead of status, and compassion instead of indifference. In other words, eternal life begins when people start treating one another as if they matter. That is why loneliness is such a serious problem. Loneliness is not merely the absence of relationships. It is the feeling that no one sees you. The answer is not simply more activity, more entertainment, or more social media. The answer is community. It is friendship; hospitality; learning to notice people; taking time to listen; remembering names; asking questions; making room at the table. Every person you meet is carrying burdens you cannot see. Some are grieving. Some are afraid. Some feel forgotten. Some wonder whether their lives have significance. A simple act of kindness may mean far more than you realize. A conversation may change someone's day. An invitation may change someone's future. A friendship may change a life. The Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaimed and the eternal life John described become visible whenever people treat one another with dignity, compassion, and love. That is how Jesus changes the world. One person at a time. One conversation at a time. One act of grace at a time. Because every person you meet matters. And so do you. Previous Home Next

< Back The "Umah" is Broken and Restored In August 2014, ISIS swept across northern Iraq. Entire Yazidi villages were overrun. Thousands of men and older boys were executed. Women and young girls were kidnapped, sold into slavery, and repeatedly abused. Children were torn from their families. Hundreds of thousands fled into the mountains or crowded into refugee camps, carrying little more than the clothes they wore. Years later, we sat with some of those survivors. The men gathered before us were fathers whose wives had been taken, husbands who did not know whether they would ever see their families again, and sons whose fathers and brothers had been murdered. Everything that had once given shape to their lives—their homes, livelihoods, security, families, and community—had been stripped away. One man quietly summarized what had happened. "The ummah is broken." He was not speaking only of buildings or villages. He was grieving the collapse of an entire community. The neighbors they had trusted for generations had betrayed them to ISIS. Relationships that had held villages together had been shattered. Trust had disappeared. Their world no longer made sense. Yet in that place of unimaginable loss, another story was unfolding. An Arab Christian pastor, serving a Kurdish congregation, had opened his church and his life to these Yazidi families. Historical memory would have expected distance. Arabs, Kurds, and Yazidis had long carried the weight of conflict, suspicion, and division. Yet here they were, serving one another because of Christ. The pastor shared one of Jesus' best-known stories—the Parable of the Prodigal Son. He did not begin with politics or revenge. He spoke about the Father who runs toward broken sons and welcomes them home. He spoke about forgiveness, dignity, and the possibility that God could restore what violence had destroyed. At nearly the same time, another Arab pastor—this one in Beirut—was ministering to a very different group of people: the wives and children of suspected ISIS fighters. They too had lost everything. Their husbands were dead, imprisoned, or missing. Their communities rejected them. They carried guilt that was not necessarily their own and bore the consequences of decisions they had never made. On the surface, these two ministries appeared to stand on opposite sides of history. One cared for the victims of ISIS. The other cared for the families left behind by the ISIS perpetrators. Yet both revealed the same Kingdom. The Kingdom of God was quietly crossing boundaries that history, ethnicity, religion, and violence insisted could never be crossed. Grace was creating a community where the world expected only perpetual hostility. Invisible to most observers, the reign of God was already at work. Only later did I realize that these encounters gave language to something I had been observing for decades. The Yazidi families had lost far more than possessions. They had lost the ability to direct their own lives. Violence had stolen their freedom, fractured their relationships, destroyed their community, and stripped away their future. Even the families of ISIS fighters, though in profoundly different ways, had also lost agency, belonging, and hope. The entire region bore the marks of a community that had become deeply broken. I began to see this as the loss of dominion. Not dominion over other people, but the loss of the God-given capacity to live as human beings were created to live—bearing God's image, exercising responsible stewardship, living in trusting relationships, and participating in healthy community. Wherever fear, violence, oppression, disease, injustice, or sin destroys that calling, humanity loses something God intended from the beginning. Years later, as I reflected on these experiences with my friends Jim and David, we found ourselves returning again and again to the Gospels. We noticed that wherever Jesus went, He encountered people who had lost dominion over their lives. The poor, the sick, the excluded, the possessed, the guilty, the fearful, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger—all had been diminished by forces contrary to God's purposes. Everywhere Jesus went, He restored what had been taken. Those conversations eventually became the foundation for a book: How Jesus Changes the World. The more we reflected, the more we realized that this was not a new insight. God had been teaching our family this lesson for generations. Long before we met Yazidi families in northern Iraq, Connie's parents, Grady and Evelyn Mangham, had lived through another humanitarian catastrophe. After years of missionary service in Vietnam, they watched the war end with the collapse of South Vietnam and the desperate flight of hundreds of thousands of refugees. Their love for Jesus and people drew them into action. They became part of the early efforts to welcome and resettle Vietnamese refugee families who arrived in North America with little more than the hope of beginning again. Few people experience the loss of dominion more completely than refugees. War strips away home, country, language, possessions, livelihood, identity, and often family itself. Refugees do not simply lose a place to live; they lose the ability to shape the course of their own lives. Yet through the patient work of welcome, friendship, discipleship, and community, God begins restoring what violence has stolen. The same pattern continued throughout our years of missionary service in Indonesia and later through humanitarian work with World Relief. Whether responding to earthquakes, floods, famine, conflict, or forced displacement, the immediate needs were obvious: food, water, shelter, medicine, and safety. But another need was just as urgent. Disaster devastates the human spirit. It leaves fear where there was once confidence, isolation where there was once community, despair where there was once hope. The work of relief is never complete until people recover not only the necessities of life but also the dignity, hope, purpose, relationships, and faith that enable them to live as God's image bearers once again. Over time, we came to recognize that this pattern extends beyond humanitarian crises. Humanity itself lives under the greatest disaster of all. Sin has distorted our hearts, our minds, our relationships, and our stewardship of creation. Death stands before every one of us, making loss seem like the final word. In that sense, the human story is one long narrative of lost dominion. The Gospel announces that death does not have the final word. In Jesus Christ, God entered our broken world, bore its sin, defeated its death, and opened the way to restored life. Those who follow Him to the cross, embrace His Spirit, and walk in His way begin to experience even now the restoration of what was lost. Though the fullness of God's Kingdom still awaits its consummation, its restoring power is already at work—in individuals, families, churches, and communities. Wherever Christ reigns, dominion begins to be restored. Only then did we realize that what we had witnessed in northern Iraq, in Beirut, in refugee resettlement, in Indonesia, and in humanitarian ministry around the world was not a series of disconnected experiences. They were all expressions of the same Kingdom. They were all glimpses of the same redeeming work of God. The theology of Restored Dominion did not begin as an abstract idea. It emerged from listening to people, sharing their struggles, serving alongside churches and communities around the world, and then returning to Scripture with fresh questions. Again and again, the biblical story revealed the same truth: God's redemptive work is always about restoring His people so they may once again reflect His character and participate in His purposes for the world. The pages that follow are an invitation to read Scripture through that lens. From Genesis to Revelation, the story of God is the story of His determination to restore what sin, violence, fear, injustice, and death have taken away. The Kingdom of God is God's great work of restored dominion, and Jesus Christ is its King. That conviction lies behind every page of the books that follow. Previous Home Next

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