sustain:if:able kiwi

Dad’s death as a wheel-chair shaped hole

(A warning to regular readers, since this is my blog, I’m going to continue to process some of my Dad’s recent death on the blog. I guess it runs the risk of being too personal, but as a practical theologian, I’m committed to taking that risk, and finding my life a sifting ground for reflection on the fingerprints of God.)

I’m continuing to reflect on the physicality of Dad’s absence. His death leaves a very interestingly shaped hole, one that is wheel-chair shaped. 

Dad had multiple sclerosis and thus spent his last ten years wheelchair bound. This reality, the shape of his disability, had a physical impact upon our family life.  The reality of that wheelchair meant a physical altering of how our family gathered and related.

The lack of mobility mean that Dad was a physical central point which we moved toward, around which we as a family gathered, around which our social life defined itself.  It is strange, bewildering, to realise we’ve lost a wheel-chair shaped central point.

There are of course, other spatial ways for groups to gather. The Christian tradition often uses notions of pilgrimage, of always moving together toward a distant horizon.Walking a beach offers tidal images, the slow back and forth rhythm of waves. Maori culture gives us the image of Koru, of growth unfolding outwards from a centre. All of these offer quite different ways to visualize gathering. Each result in quite different patterns of living.

Thus the death of Dad is not only of a person, but of a pattern of gathering as a family.

What was intriguing about us as a family making Dad’s coffin was that it was actually giving us a different pattern of gathering – the garage rather than the lounge, working side by side rather than talking face to face, small groups playing different roles at different times.

Being a missiologist, I can’t help linking this with the church in mission. Much of church life in Western Christianity has  a central gathering pattern – we go to church rather than move on pilgrimage or unfold outward as church in the world. So my grief is perhaps at some level what the church in the West is living with on a daily basis.

And what might it mean for the church to embrace different patterns of gathering – around projects, in shared tasks, seeking participation and new charisms.

Spatially, Dad’s hole is not just central, it is also wheelchair shaped. His disability is central to his parting. To help me process this, I’m back reading Disability in the Christian Tradition: A Reader by Brian Brock and John Swinton.

It looks at how various thinkers through Christian history have responded to disability. I suspect that somewhere in there will be important insights for me, about how God’s redemption embraces the physicality of the human body, about how the disability of Jesus (beaten beyond recognition, wounded side, nail-scarred hands) are part of God’s gracious pattern in the world.

telling a story one year on

Today I’m planting seeds. First, early morning, in my garden, Van Gogh sunflowers, Wild Sweetie micro tomatoes, heirloom carrots and provencal salad mix. Second, later today, I’m hosting a one year on anniversary.

This is the invite I sent out (planted?) a few weeks ago …

Greetings,

A year ago, you gave us at Uniting College a gift.

You participated with us in a Capacity Builders process, giving your input, ideas and perspectives, as we at Uniting College worked toward a four year Strategic Planning process.

One year on, we want to report back.

On Tuesday, September 10, between 4:15-5:15 pm, in Uniting College Common Space, 34 Lipsett Tce, we want to thank and update you,

to share with you,

• the result – including the new tag line, sharpened mission statement, signposts, and 2014 objectives
• the home truths – some feedback we found hard to hear, but essential as we looked into the feedback mirror
• the road not travelled – some moments of learning, about ourselves and our mission, emerging from our 2013 objectives
• the road travelled – some highlights of God’s goodness in the last 12 months

There will be wine, cheese, stories and information, so for catering purposes, can you please RSVP to eloise dot scherer at flinders dot edu dot au.

It was in September a year ago that we as a theological College began a strategic planning process. While the idea of strategic planning in a theological college has a number of potential pitfalls, for us its been a breath of fresh air, providing clarity and allowing a depth of listening and community and team.

Today we’ll share some of that, and some of the stories of fresh life (planted seeds) that have sprouted among us.

Update: Feedback was very positive. We began with wine and cheese, which gave a relaxed, after work type of feel.

I then talked about the results, the feedback and the process. At various times I offered ways to engage. One idea that went really well, was giving out 5 hot dots to each person and asking them to vote on what they thought our 2014 goals should be. The goals had been placed up around the walls. I ran through them and then (3 days after the election here in Australia) people got to to vote (again), wandered around with the dots, choosing. It has been great for us as a team to have this outside input into what we as a team had initially thought was important.

Finally I finished with four highlights of the 2013 gone

• our first ever candidate indigenous immersion experience (see here and here)
• a just announced Gold award for “Best Theological Article” from the Australasian Religious Press Association for one of our lecturers
• our growth in the use of online learning, in both our under-graduate and post-graduate courses
• regional delivery, allowing us to engage many more lay people in our BMin

All in all, One Year On worked really well – an informal way for us to enjoy ourselves, while maintaining connections, giving and receiving feedback and telling stories

pioneers in contexts organisational and cultural

There are three key contributors to entrepreneurial success. They are personality, the culture of the country they live in and the support available to them. (From here)

Worth pondering. It suggests that pioneering talk needs to occur in context – to consider the culture and the organisation.

Regarding personality, the article notes that there is no such thing as an “entrepreneurial personality.” Indeed, there are great variances in psychological makeup of entrepreneurs. This is good news and certainly important given the common stereotypes that hang around the word leader and innovator.

However, pioneers do tend to have some shared characteristics

• an enjoyment of achievement
• take personal responsibility
• exist with higher levels of tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty
• look for risks
• see failure as an opportunity for learning

Regarding culture, this is really interesting. I find it intriguing the rise in recent literature in business circles around social entrepreneurship and the rise of the word pioneer in church circles. Our Western culture prizes novelty and so the word pioneer finds coherence. However, down-under cultures add complexity to the word pioneer. In New Zealand, we quickly stomp on tall poppies. In Australia, pioneers died in the desert. They also tended to be male, playing into an outdoor, rather than domestic spirituality. (I’ve written more about this here). So downunder, these layers make pioneering a more complex cultural image to play with.

Regarding support, well for those of us in the Uniting Church who talk about innovation, have a read of this

My vocation carries a cost with it, a cost I am – to a certain extent – willing to pay. But paying that price may cost me more than I can afford … I am left wondering, then, what choices I now have available to me. Can I learn new ways to live within my limited resources that are life-giving and sustainable? Must I choose an occupation that takes me away from a calling that has this year been so profoundly affirmed, in order to extend my financial resources and remove the strain? Are there avenues for support I have not yet explored?

And will my community, the church, be brave and explore these questions with me? For the reality I face, of a limited income and / or multiple occupations, will face more and more ordained and lay ministers called to serve a church with fewer and fewer full time placements available. (From here)

Sarah refuses to accept that creativity and innovation are individual. Rightly (IMHO) and especially for a Uniting church that claims to be inter-connectional, she asks about the place of the organisation in supporting and sustaining innovation.

I sat with someone recently who noted that their church was looking for a 2nd minster who could pioneer something new that in time will pay for their salary. I quietly pointed out that I long for day when that the sustainability of salary applied to the first minister as equally as the incoming pioneering minister.

In sum, only part of pioneering is about the pioneer. They always need to be seen in context – both their cultural and organisational

being church in mission on election day

A few weeks ago, a local Australian pastor asked my advice. He’d heard a rumour that I might be creative and outward looking. So, he asked, “how can we as a church maximise the fact our buildings will be used on election day as a polling booth?”

“Give the money away,” I replied, knowing that many Australian churches offer a barbeque to folk lining up to vote and that many charge a gold coin for the sausage and sauce.

In fact I said, warming to my new role of creative mission advisor, “Why not choose 3 local charities. And have your own vote. Invite everyone to whom you sell a sausage to choose what charity they most want to support locally. That’s a very different way of being church. Participating in mission by serving the community.”

He looked slightly crestfallen, so I asked how much they earned last election. Around $700 he said.

“That’s around $200 a year. If you keep the money, you simply reinforce the message that all the church cares about is itself, it’s own concerns and agendas. If you give it away, you’re inviting your local community to participate with you in mission.

“That’s a very different economic policy,” I concluded.

I’m looking forward to meeting post-election and seeing how the vote for mission might have played out in that local church

Eulogy for John Cuthbert Taylor

My task, my privilege, on behalf of the family is to reflect on John Cuthbert Taylor – as husband, dad, father-in-law, granddad.

For the three Taylor sons, our childhood is defined by Dad and our Dad is defined by PNG.

Holidays using coconut palm leaves as a toboggan to fly into Lake Murray,
the family fondue and games nights – playing Careers,
the three hour church services in Gogodala,
the standards of behaviour expected at the three hour church services from the three sons of the foreign missionary.

All of us as sons were raised in PNG and it’s only in hindsight that one can begin to appreciate the way it shaped us. The values it instilled across cultures. And the costs, for Dad and for us.

For the grandchildren, Grandad meant Wethers Original lollies from his special tin. His smile of welcome. His genuine interest in their lives. And wheel chair rides.

For Mum, Cuth Taylor meant 53 years of companionship. A shared sense of call. Mutual support. In health, and more recently, in sickness

I still remember the phone call from Dad with the news that he’d been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I remember him struggling emotionally to share the news of this disease that was attacking his nervous system. For which there is no known cure. (As yet)

Dad was in his late 50s when he was diagnosed. It would’ve been easy to respond with anger, self-absorbed bitterness. Instead I watched as Dad used those years to grow. To find new ways to contribute – through prayer, in care. I’ve watched him go through the Opawa Baptist church phone directory, person by person. Realising that he was keeping better track of newcomers than most people in the church.

Not that dad was perfect. He could withdraw from conflict. He could hide his emotions. He could work too hard. Not that anyone’s perfect.

Last year for Fathers Day I gave dad a memory book. A series of questions – favourite childhood holiday, his first job – that might help capture his memories before they became lost in the confusion that is Alzheimers.

One question asks – What are the proudest moments of your life. Dad wrote of his first century in cricket. Getting married – to you Mum. Birth of his sons – Chris, Dave and even me. And how he coped with MS.

At first glance it’s an unusual thing to be proud of. But this is what he wrote:

“God’s goodness to me and my growth in Him since my MS was diagnosed. I used to .. ask God why he allowed old people to get sick. But I now know the answer – are we still prepared to trust God even when we are sick. Yes I am!!”

John Cuthbert Taylor – husband, dad, father-in-law, granddad. Remembered by us, admired by us, loved by us – for his character.

tomorrow we’ll build a coffin

My Dad died yesterday, peacefully, surrounded by some close family. After many years of battling debilitating illness, it was a relief to have a passing so swift and peaceful.

Today we met with the funeral director and after a fairly intense planning suggestion, a slightly light-hearted question was asked.

Do we have to purchase a brought coffin?

No came the answer.

And with increasing energy, we began to explore the possibilities of building, then decorating, our own. It would be a group project while we wait for the funeral. It would be an act of love. It would help us process our emotions. It would connect us, personally, with what is happening. It would allow different family groups – some builders, some decorators, some cup of tea makers, to be at work.

We each do our little bit.

Saturday update: Friday night the plan was made, with a bit of help from the internet. Saturday morning we confirmed the plan and brought the pine. Saturday afternoon we built the base, sides, handles and lid. The grandkids did lots of the drilling, while the adults supervised and guided. A really rich time of participation and learning.

Saturday evening update: And now, in the evening, after dinner, a blonde wood stain. It has brought out the pine wood, offered some sense of a proper finish, and laid the foundation for the decorator crew on Sunday. A different group of participants were involved in this painting phase, folk who felt they could contribute via paint, more than hammer and drill.

Sunday evening: With the coffin built, today became a day of decoration. Each person found a spot around the sides – a panel for each family. Some used words, others song lyrics, others stencils, beads or lolly wrappers. Across the generations words of love and memory were inscribed. The coffin is now individualised, made with love, decorated with care. The lid has been kept free and before the funeral, participants will be invited to add their words of memory. It has been a rich, full weekend. The activity has created memories and given us something to storytell together, as we seek to find new ways to relate and connect as a family.

Monday morning: So the funeral director returned to take away the coffin. She seemed genuinely impressed, moved by the heartfelt decorations on the side and the extensive number of screws used to hold down the lid.

It felt good to help her load the coffin into the hearse.

And then to close the boot and realise that I’d personally been able to be part of making what would carry Dad for his final physical journey, first to the church tomorrow and finally into cremation.

We built that. For Dad

(The problems were to emerge later that day. Our coffin handles were great for multiple hands to hold, but not good for sliding into the crematorium chamber. Thankfully, the funeral directors took the initiative and added some sheeting on the bottom, to allow for a smoother roll.)

Tuesday at the funeral: As hoped, a handmade coffin, already decorated, proved a big of a magnet. The service was from 3:30pm, with refreshments and fellowship from 2 pm. This included the invitation for folk to sign the coffin and/or leave a message. It was wonderful seeing folk gathered around the coffin, reading, talking, interacting, messaging. It allowed another layer of storytelling and helped people connect with the reality of Dad’s death.

We made a backup plan. If we’re not successful by Monday, we can go back to the catalogue. Which gives us two days to see what we can produce.

Anyone up for a big picture theological conversation?

I’m looking for conversation partners.

The question is: what will be the shape of theological formation for mission and ministry in 10 years time? And the knock on questions – what facilities will it need, what library resourcing will it require, what teachers will it need, what research capacities will it nourish, what church will it service?

You need to be willing to talk as well as listen. You need to be willing to work at the conversation, to read and think and push back and be pushed. You also need to be willing to stay in the conversation over a good number of months.

If you’re interested, get in touch – steve dot taylor at flinders dot edu dot au.

a very rich speaking event

Last night was one of the most rich speaking engagements I’ve ever been part of. Last year I spoke to the Churches of Christ ministers at their annual Magarey lecture. I focused on the importance of our sense in the mission of God. A number of those present wanted to continue the conversation and the result was an invite to last night – to be part of Conversations at the table.  But as a feast rather than a talkfest!

I arrived to find a four course dinner, lights dimmed, candles lit, flowers laid out around tables. It was extraordinary.

Between each course I engaged a Scriptural text and explored four themes – companions, manners, words and communion. I wanted to provide examples of how to do church around tables, not to try and be fresh or relevant or cool. Rather in response to Jesus, who did so much of his ministry in conversation at tables.

Course 1 – Companions
I began my inviting them to plan a special meal for 4-6 people. Who would you invite? Where would you have it? What would you eat? What would you celebrate?

I then read the Parable of the Great Banquet, in Luke 14:15-23 and asked if anyone had stories of times when you’ve invited “poor, crippled, blind, lame.” This opened up some great conversation, about how we’re changed by the simple acts of inviting the strangers to eat.

I introduced them to John Koenig and his research into churches and food.

“we have seriously undervalued our church meals, both ritual and informal, as opportunities for mission … to realize this potential, we, like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, must have our eyes opened by the transforming presence of Christ at our tables.”

And the four hospitality practices he offers.

• Practice: serving graciously by finding ways to encourage eye contact and genuine conversation.
• Practice: setting tables in ways and places that reflect God’s abundance and creativity.
• Practice: seek role reversals by finding ways for all to contribute (a diversity of gifts, each has its corresponding service.)
• Practice: committing to a long-term, intentional project.

Course 2 – manners
I asked if Christians should eat differently and suggested a number of practices that might mark Kingdom manners. This included placing on the table all the cans (cleaned) used to make the meal we were enjoying and inviting folk to talk about the labels, what we know of the prayer needs of that country and pray for those people. Intercession!

Course 3 – words
I used the movie The Kings Speech, to ask what it means for us to find voice, to share our story as part of conversations. It was spliced with a number of video and art explorations of woman at the Well in John 4 – her sharing her story uniquely.

Course 4 – communion
We finished with communion. It allowed us to draw the evening together – to “Do this in memory of” the table fellowship of Jesus, the manners of the Kingdom, the words.

I finished with one final conversation around table, the Emmaus story in Luke 24, to remind us that the cup is the cup of the new covenant, in which Jesus continues to be recognised around tables; not just in the past, but into the future.

Why such a rich night? The multiple senses – food, lighting, environment, conversation, cans, wrapped around justice, mission and hospitality – made for an evening that was rich, yet inputting. The people at tables were from diverse churches, making it a time of relational growing. Mission was made as simple as eating, as challenging as Jesus radical Kingdom manners.

A night I will remember for a long time.

And I’d love to do this with other groups – an evening of mission as conversation at tables.

Conversations at the tables

I’m speaking today at Conversations at the table.

It’s a unique invite. They want me to talk actually at tables, around food, between courses. Not as the make them laugh after dinner speaker, but to engage their senses in God’s mission of justice, community building and story telling.

I’ll be taking along John Koenig, Soul Banquets: How Meals Become Mission in the Local Congregation. And a range of practical exercises shaped for me by Sense Making Faith. And some video clips – from Ratatouille and The Kings Speech. And some art. And some table mats, to get them thinking about what church would look like if it was conversations at tables. And praying – that between mouthfuls, God speaks.

doing theology: teaching theology by induction

I’m teaching an introduction to Christian theology topic this Semester.

I began with a two questions and a proposal. First question, does anyone here not have access to a computer? All did. Second question, does anyone here not have access to a printer? All did. Which led to the proposal. I will put all the lecture notes and class readings online. And when we meet, rather then talk theology ie me lecture you, we will do theology ie I will guide you, through the readings and my doing theology together.

We were all a bit apprehensive about this new approach, since the dominant model of education involves an expert imparting knowledge. But I was keen to explore a learning by doing, induction process, which better equipped them for the complexity of life beyond the classroom.

To help guide them, I have outlined to them the following process, which they used to get them going.

• My (current) theological question is …
• I’m curious about this because ….
• The theological frame I’m going to us is (in week one I suggested three examples Wesleyan quadrilateral, Miroslav Volf’s three questions, indigenous storytelling approach) …
• My conversation partners will need to include ….
• The values I have used to chose them include (from week three) ….
• I’d like to express my findings by (in week two we noted blogs, film, story, liturgy, writing) …

So far, after four weeks, we are all greatly energised. They have come up with excellent theological questions – none that we would have discussed in a normal syllabus, yet all touching key theological themes. They loved the conversation partner idea. The process really energised the library visit I then organised, when they got shown how to use databases to find conversation partners. Some were heading back to the library  after class to search further.

For those interested, I also gave them one example, one of my recent “doing theology” projects – Let me in the sound. (more…)

fresh words and deeds: a theology of innovation

I preached in chapel today. The Gospel lectionary text was Luke 13:10-17. After the reading, I played Van Gogh Shadows by Luka Agnani and then spoke.

The video brings together two artists.

First, Vincent Van Gogh. Our entire trip through Europe during our Sabbatical was defined by Van Gogh. Our 13 year old was fascinated by the colours, the vibrancy, the subject matter, the fact he cut off his ear.

The second artist is Luka Agnani. A digital artist. Who takes Van Gogh – 13 paintings – and adds light, intensity, movement and people.

The result is that what is historic, Van Gogh paintings, is seen in fresh ways. Things we’d not noticed. People I’d not paid attention to. Insights I’d not been aware of.

Which helps me make sense of the Gospel reading. In Luke 13, the is something historic – Sabbath understanding, Torah, pattern of living. “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.”

And then there is the fact that, in the actions and words of Jesus, faith is seen is fresh ways. “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.”

Jesus takes the historic – sabbath, Torah – and adds light, intensity, movement. And above all a focus on people. “And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?”

Which also helps me make sense of some of my current research. I’m exploring new ways of church. How does what is historic, relate to the new, the contemporary world around us?

As part of the research, I’ve been re-reading the Basis of Union. As all Principals of Uniting Colleges do! 🙂 In particular wonderful phrase “fresh words and deeds.” It occurs at the end of Paragraph 11.

According to Davis McCaughey’s Commentary on the Basis of Union, you need to read paragraph 11, alongside paragraph 10.

Together. You read paragraph 10 and value of historic maps – of Scripture, of the witness of reformation fathers. You read alongside Para 11 and value the “faithful and scholarly interpreters” who serve the church by enabling it to stand “in relation to contemporary societies in ways which will help her to understand her own nature and mission.”

It’s such an interesting place to locate scholars- not in paragraph 10, with the historic, but in paragraph 11, with contemporary societies and fresh words and deeds.

So applying Paragraph 10 – we need historic maps – we need Van Gogh – we need the Old Testament, the Torah, the Law.

And applying Paragraph 11 – we need scholarly interpreters, who help us stand in relation to contemporary society.

Result is fresh words and deeds – fresh light, extra intensity, focus on people.

Which I hope is our experience – as faculty, as students – at Uniting College, as Flinders Department of Theology, as Adelaide College of Divinity.

We’re hold Paragraph 10 and 11 together. The historic – Scripture, tradition – and the new – reading the culture in mission. And the result?

May the Lord be confessed in fresh words and deeds.

Sin and evil in a liberal world

Words like sin and evil don’t always play well in a liberal world. In a world of tolerance, we like to assume the best of another. In a strength based paradigm, we like to focus on the positives of appreciative inquiry, as in this wonderful video.

I remember a class, in which I was told in no uncertain terms by a minsterial candidate that they didn’t believe in sin. It was an old-fashioned invention of the church, designed to encourage guilt in religion. It is a conversation that has continued to sit with me. What is the place of sin and evil in a contemporary, liberal world?

So interesting today to stumble across a thought piece in the Guardian by social media columnist, Paul Mason, reflecting on recent trends in social media. He is reflecting on some particular nasty occurrences on twitter. And writes:

Evil may be a medieval theological concept, but when it invades your interface with the rest of humanity – and confronts your unwilling mind with imagery designed to provoke disgust, fear and self-loathing – it is all too modern.

It reminded me of the conclusion by Miroslav Volf, Exclusion & Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation. He argues for a God of justice.

To the person who is inclined to dismiss it, I suggest imagining that you are delivering a lecture in a warzone. Among your listeners are people whose cities and villages have been first plundered, then burned and leveled to the ground, whose daughters have been raped, whose fathers and brothers have had their throats slit. The topic of the lecture: a Christian attitude toward nonviolence. The thesis: we should not retaliate since God is perfect noncoercive love. Soon you will discover that it takes the quiet of a suburban home for the birth of the thesis that human nonviolence corresponds to God’s refusal to judge. In a scorched land, soaked in the blood of the innocent, it will invariably die. And as one watches it die, one will do well to reflect about many other pleasant captivities of the liberal mind. (Exclusion & Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation, p.304).

There is much, much, more to Volf. But it is a reminder that theology needs to take sin and evil seriously. A worthy topic for my Introduction to Theology class tomorrow perhaps.

theology as dinner party conversations

Today, I took a second step with the Master of Ministry Theology of Ministry Practice class.

The assumption of the topic is that each participant began ministry with a theology of ministry, a set of values and principles about ministry. Another assumption is that over time, they have collected experiences. Now, as they begin their Master of Ministry journey, is a time to re-theologise, to think again about their theology of ministry practice, to contemporise their reading, to clarify what their thesis topic really should be.

For this second class, each participant was invited to bring an experience, a moment of ministry that had left them thinking.

We began the class by sharing, around the room and online, using video-conferencing software. A rich set of stories, confronting, challenging, emerged.

It was time for the second step. Having shared, I invited them to consider themselves hosts of a dinner party. And to choose six guests whom they would like to have help them think through the question raised by the ministry experience. They could be alive or dead. But who would they like to have a conversation with.

I also noted that the average person speaks at about 100 words a minute. So one hour conversation with these six guests, would in fact be 6,000 words – the size of their essay. And like all conversations, these guests would probably argue ie engage in critical thinking.

Well, the lights went on and the energy went up in the room. Theology had been transformed. The participants had all sorts of interesting people they wanted to invite to their theological dinner party for conversation. People from the story they had shared, artists who would help them think differently, theologians in history, ministry practitioners they admired, saints who embody practices they value.

Which raised the inevitable question. How to get these voices into a theology essay? How to research and quote and cite?

Well, I said, that’s the third step. That’s for next gathering. How about I invite the librarian next time we meet and we ask them? We get them to guide us to the relevant databases, help us work out how to source information, whether books or journals or newspapers or people.

Lots of nods around the table. Lots of interest now in literature searching and proper use of bibliographies. Because research has taken another whole different shape.

It’s a dinner party conversation.

Adelaide mission-shaped ministry reunion

Tonight is an Adelaide reunion of mission-shaped ministry course participants.

We’re bringing together folk from the 2011 (45 participants meeting at Burnside Uniting) and 2012 (15 participants meeting at City Soul) courses. For reasons of community and coaching.

Regarding community, they’ve not met each other, yet both been through the same experiences. They’ve both experienced ecumenism, hospitality, community, interaction and input around fresh expressions, pioneering and mission-shaped ministry. So it will be fascinating to see what happens as people that are strangers, yet share a similar experience, and hopefully passion, mingle.

Regarding coaching, we’re also hoping to get some energy moving around the what next of coaching in community. The mission-shaped ministry course is not about information transfer, but about the invitation to participate in mission. So, since they were commissioned, since they left with a range of hopes and dreams, what has happened.

We’re not sure, so we’ve designed the following process. (more…)