Repairing the Wounds of Mission
Neighborhood Ministries (Summer 2024)
When I first began working at Neighborhood Ministries, I had to raise support for my salary. It was my first experience with fundraising, and I felt scared. I was encouraged to share with churches and potential supporters that I was an Urban Missionary. At the time, I wasn't a fan of the word "missionary," as it carried negative connotations for me. However, I understood that it might help convey my work to churches and other believers. In my proposal letters and on social media, I identified as an Urban Missionary.
One evening, when I picked up a student for our Wednesday night youth gathering, he asked me, "What do you mean by 'missionary'?" I realized I had never explained that term in our conversations. It had mostly been an online label. He shared that he viewed missionaries as white people who colonized and imposed their ideas on others. I empathized with him and admitted that I sometimes felt the same way. Despite my efforts to explain the term's potential benefits, I sensed that I had failed to connect. Not long after, I removed "Urban Missionary" from my social media profiles but kept it in my proposals to different churches.
Looking back, I must honestly admit that in ways I embodied the term "missionary" as interpreted by my student. I believed that what I had to offer the youth would greatly benefit their lives and our community. While I thought I was being humble, there was a part of me that felt my ideas were what they should follow. I often questioned myself: What do I do? What do I have to offer? What do people think of me? Beneath these questions lay a sense of paternalism.
I believe we all struggle with this dynamic in our relationships. I know I do. Many of us have a strong belief that our way is the right way. This mindset can be particularly pronounced during election years. Judging and shaming others for their thoughts and actions, using our own power dynamic to take advantage of situations that may hurt others, or disregarding the feelings and reality of others who we honestly may think less of. Many of us are held captive by our own way of seeing, doing, and being in the world that causes us to dismiss others.
People of faith often assert that they don’t know what’s best; instead, they trust a Divine Creator who does. For believers, the questions shift from self-centered queries to deeper reflections: What is God doing? What is God providing? What does God think of me? These questions stem from discussions I had with a group called Rewire. David Bosch, in his book Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission, offers a new understanding of mission, highlighting that the church and its members participate in the Creator's mission rather than pursuing their own. This concept, known as the Missio Dei, begins with knowing and joining in God's mission.
Christian scholars like Dr. Dwight A. Radcliff Jr. describes the Missio Dei as the Creator's desire to be with humanity. This culminates in God's incarnation as Jesus—Emmanuel, God with us. Throughout the biblical narrative, we see Jesus choosing to be with those marginalized by society. He emphasizes this solidarity in Matthew 25, stating that when we serve "the least of these," we serve Him.
Neighborhood Ministries Road Trip to Sea World (Summer 2024)
This new understanding transformed my approach: I needed to engage with the youth I serve, listening to their perspectives and learning what God is doing in and through their lives. Archbishop Oscar Romero referred to this as a "Second Conversion," a deeper, transformative change that goes beyond initial faith. This conversion involves a commitment to social justice and a profound love for the marginalized and oppressed. Romero believed that true discipleship requires confronting injustice and engaging in the struggles of the poor. A second conversion calls for a reorientation toward community, solidarity, and social change, reflecting Christ's mission in the world. May our votes, voices, and actions embody this mission.
One of the best books I read last year was Imani Perry’s South to America. In its closing pages, she states that if we are to save America, we must look to the South. In my Christian tradition, many believe that Jesus is most present in the places we least expect—those deemed ugly or marginalized. He is among the poor, the oppressed, and the under-resourced. The South, with its troubled history marked by violence and bigotry, holds stories of suffering and resilience. For America to heal, we must amplify the voices and experiences of those historically oppressed in this region.
Growing up, I often heard horror stories about Durham, NC, the city where my wife and I are moving to love and serve—particularly in the Hayti neighborhood through our work with BLK South. Despite its reputation for gangs and violence, my time in Durham has shown me that there is much this city can teach the rest of the country. Durham boasts a rich history of compassion and action against injustice. Many residents actively confront past and present wrongs, seeking to reconcile with reality.
As we approach this pivotal and controversial election, we must remember our mission: to repair the harm done in our communities. By committing to do no harm and actively participating in the healing process, we can foster a culture of understanding, compassion, and justice right here in our neighborhoods. We must acknowledge that the systems and structures we operate within this country are inequitable and unjust; while we may not be able to change them entirely, we have to figure out ways to engage that discourage harm. It is crucial that we participate in ways that minimize negative impact on others and remain steadfast in our commitment to avoid causing harm ourselves. Let us vote, speak, and act with the intention of mending the wounds that divide us and building a more equitable future for all.
REFLECTION QUESTIONS:
How does the concept of the Missio Dei challenge or reshape the way you view your role in serving others, especially when personal beliefs about what’s best might conflict with the needs or perspectives of the community? In what ways might this perspective guide us in recognizing and repairing the wounds we unintentionally inflict within our mission?
Reflect on the idea of a "second conversion" as described by Archbishop Oscar Romero. How might embracing this transformation influence the way you engage with marginalized communities, especially when considering social justice and solidarity? What steps can we take to ensure our mission is one of repair, healing, and mutual growth?
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