Fifty years ago evangelical protestant churches had very little idea what to do about issues such as hunger and poverty. This was true because, in the first place, the church lacked a clear sense of the biblical mandate to bring good news to the poor by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and being concerned in general for the plight of the vulnerable. Passages like Jesus' "Nazareth Manifesto" (Luke 4:18-19) seemed to describe an entirely future promise or to apply only to some spiritual realm that had little or no bearing on the many vulnerable people who actually suffer in our world.
In the second place, it's likely many Christians lacked the necessary courage to confront these issues. After all, the statistics have always been daunting. Every day far too many children die of preventable causes such as hunger or other surmountable health challenges. Thinking about this comes at a cost. In fact, spending too much time dwelling on it can ruin your day. Feeling some responsibility to change the situation can ruin you for good.
Thankfully, despite the challenge and the cost, many church leaders over the last 50 years have chosen to open their eyes to God's concern for the poor. And in engaging the issue, their churches have found not ruin, but restoration. They have discovered the secret that engaging in ministries of mercy provides not just hope for the poor and vulnerable, but also hope for their own tired congregations. Today it is becoming difficult to find Protestant congregations that are not engaging in some form of mercy ministry to the poor. The challenging truth, however, is that in a world so ravaged by evil as ours, mercy ministry is simply not enough. Even when it is done in the healthy context of church planting, mercy ministry can only address some of the issues confronting those who suffer in our world today -- people who are vulnerable in ways that we may not like to contemplate.
Maria* is just such a person. And I should warn you that her story is the kind of story that can still ruin people. Her suffering is of a kind that you may not want to spend too much time thinking about. I know this because I have been thinking about it for a long time.
Maria has been going to a small Peruvian evangelical church for most of her 15 years. Until a couple of years ago, she would have seemed just another preteen ambling her way toward adulthood. But soon after puberty the first irrefutable symptom of her condition revealed itself. Her all-too-familiar swollen belly was not caused by lack of food, but by the absence of an advocate. Maria lives in a community where sexual abuse of children is not just common but rampant. Unable to protect herself, she became the victim of choice of a local cab driver, a "friend" of her family, and her repeated abuse resulted in the worst kind of unwanted pregnancy. The challenges of raising an infant with very few resources and even less experience have become the worn fabric of her daily life. Maria has borne, both literally and figuratively, the consequences of the biblical sin of oppression, the abuse of power.
If Maria's issues were more familiar to the church, if she were hungry or sick or homeless, if her baby simply needed clothing, then perhaps the local church or one of the many short-term church teams that travel every year to Peru would reach out to her. It's not that she doesn't need mercy -- she needs plenty of it -- from God and from other human beings. But more than just mercy, she needs justice. There is an oppressor in her life, and he needs to be restrained. But Maria's problem is far more complex and her suffering is far more taboo than most churches understand or feel comfortable dealing with. Even Solomon with all of his God-given wisdom didn't seem to enjoy thinking about such things: "I saw the tears of the oppressed -- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors…And I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living" (Ecclesiastes 4:1-2).
What is Maria to do in the face of such suffering? Where is she to find hope in the midst of this despair? Where is she to find protection from such oppression? There are a growing number of Christians who say the church is Maria's only real hope. And, in fact, there are a growing number of churches daring to hope on her behalf. The River Church Community in San Jose, California, is one example of a church learning to show victims like Maria not only mercy but justice as well.
The River
The River is a 10-year-old church plant with its roots in the Willow Creek Association. As a new plant it employed a kind of seeker-sensitivity that allowed for authentic experience of God in the midst of regular services on weekends. In the early days there were two significant ministry thrusts: great preaching and inner healing. Both found deep resonance in Silicon Valley culture, and the church grew rapidly. Its location at the very epicenter of the dot-com bubble soon led the church to prayerfully consider how it ought to take responsibility for its privilege and wealth. This led to growing generosity and a deepening desire to serve the needs of the surrounding community. In 1999 I was hired as the compassion ministries pastor to lead the charge into mercy ministry.
It became obvious early on that exposure to the reality of the world outside of Silicon Valley was profoundly transformational for River people. While it's true that there are very real spiritual, psychological, and physical needs in most educated, affluent congregations in the U.S., it's also true that tending exclusively to these needs can create a myopic, overly introspective climate that's not conducive to deep discipleship. So alongside a robust healing ministry, we began to consider mercy ministry as necessary to our spiritual growth.
Our early forays into mercy ministry were quite satisfying. Our efforts included ministry at a local jail, work in homeless shelters, the beginning of an intentional community in one of the poorest neighborhoods in our city, and a growing network of international partnerships with churches and ministries in the developing or majority world. As more and more people participated in these mercy ministries, our perspective on the nature and power of the gospel of Jesus was radically broadened, and we were perceptibly transformed as a church. In time, as members of our congregation chose to prioritize ministry over other forms of work, we spun off nonprofits that to this day are working among the poor in our city and elsewhere in the world.
It's no exaggeration to say that in the midst of these mercy ministries, we experienced the presence and power of God in very profound ways. One of the complications, however, was that these experiences were tending to reveal our insular and often ignorant perceptions of the nature of our world. Our isolation from the depths of evil and suffering in our world left us unequipped to answer the very persistent and difficult questions of oppression and injustice we encountered: Why were the people we were serving so vulnerable? Could anything be done to protect them before they were abused, or should we confine ourselves to binding up the wounds caused by the abuse? Treating the symptoms of oppression, while a mercy to those suffering, does not solve their problems. What the oppressed need is for justice to roll down like water. But is that the job of the church?
Justice Ministry
It was in the midst of these reflections that I was encouraged and also deeply challenged by Gary Haugen's Good News About Injustice (InterVarsity Press). For a long time I'd had a growing conviction that passages like Jesus' Nazareth Manifesto were not merely descriptions of a spiritual reality or future promise. And here, in the form of Haugen's book, was a challenge for the church and concrete examples of Christ-followers stepping boldly into the work of justice. Haugen described a ministry called International Justice Mission (IJM), which was doing the very courageous work of rescuing the oppressed and ensuring that the poor have access to the protections of their countries' own laws. In field offices around the globe, IJM's highly trained local staff were investigating cases of violent oppression, working with local authorities to bring immediate relief for victims, and ensuring that victims had access to the kind of quality aftercare that they would need to rebuild their lives. They were also ensuring that perpetrators of violent oppression faced just consequences under local laws. And through all of this individual casework, IJM staff worked to build local capacity and strengthen the judicial systems that could prevent oppressors from acting in the first place.
Not long after reading his book, I had the great opportunity to attend a dinner with IJM President Gary Haugen and some of his team. I was excited to learn that Gary had just returned from Peru, where he'd been investigating the possibility of working with victims of child sexual abuse. Sensing a unique opportunity, I called IJM the next day and asked if there was any way our church could be involved with the work in Peru. "We'll do anything!" I said, "Carry suitcases, clean bathrooms, translate…anything!"
Maria's Story
A few months later I found myself in Huánuco, Peru, with an IJM lawyer and a small team of lawyers and medical professionals from The River, just seven of us in all. It was during this trip that I first met Maria, when our team visited her small home. I remember talking with her and holding her baby. Looking into their faces I felt an intense mixture of admiration, sadness, and anger. I was deeply moved by her plight. She was making the daily choice to live with the consequences of the sin perpetrated against her. She was struggling to care for her baby; struggling, but succeeding. I was infuriated at what had been taken from her: dignity, innocence, childhood, and confidence. At the same time I was realizing that I was ruined. It was no longer possible not to care. I knew I could leave Peru, but it would be a long time before the complex, many-layered image of Maria holding her beautiful baby would leave my mind.
Later that week I spoke with an IJM lawyer to learn more about Maria's story. It turned out that upon discovering she was pregnant, Maria somehow found the courage to talk with her mother about her abuse. Together they sought help from IJM's casework alliance partner in Peru -- a team of professional lawyers, investigators, and psychologists who see it as their job to bring good news to the poor. (The work of IJM in Peru is done through a casework alliance partnership with an excellent Christian sister organization called Paz y Esperanza, or Peace and Hope. IJM works through a similar casework alliance in Honduras. Like the 14 IJM field offices in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, these two casework alliance offices are staffed by nationals who are expert in their field, highly professional, and deeply dedicated to the work.)
The team immediately began a painstaking investigative process. They discovered that although her abuser had been positively identified, the local police had done nothing to apprehend him. And rather than protecting Maria, they had compounded her trauma by accusing her of somehow inviting the abusive attentions of the perpetrator. Undaunted, Maria's lawyer worked tenaciously. Even through a lengthy series of judicial irregularities (incomplete reports, release of the perpetrator from custody, and so on), the team persevered. Despite these legal irregularities the IJM team did excellent legal work. And today, while Maria's perpetrator is still at large, an arrest warrant keeps him from returning to her town to further threaten her. While the investigative and legal work was going on, Maria was enrolled in a robust aftercare program where she was introduced to other victims her age and where she began a healing process under the care of a trained Christian psychologist.
About a year later I returned to Peru with another team from The River. During our second trip we had the privilege of attending the anniversary celebration of the victims support group called Tamar. Maria, of course, was there. During the celebration we played a hot-potato sort of game. Someone produced a small wooden box and explained that it was full of slips of paper with instructions written on them. When the music started we were to pass the box from hand to hand until it stopped. When it did, the person holding the box had to open it, take out a piece of paper, and do whatever was written on it. Once the rules were explained, the music started. The box rotated around the circle. And on the very first round it stopped right in Maria's lap. She pulled out a slip of paper that instructed her to stand and sing a song to the whole group. As I saw her blanch at the challenge, my heart sank. It was one thing to allow Maria the space to recover from her unthinkable trauma quietly; it was quite another to put her on display in front of the whole group. Her hard-won, incremental healing over the last year seemed so fragile, and I was afraid we were running the risk of setting her back.
She stood slowly and timidly. Reluctantly, she began to sing the words of a familiar Spanish worship song:
If you had faith like a tiny little mustard seed
This is what the Lord says:
You would say to this mountain, Move!
And the mountain would move.
As she sang, Maria grew louder and more confident. Soon she was smiling. And before long we were all on our feet singing and doing a sort of conga-line dance in celebration of this faith that had in fact moved mountains. It was this celebration that helped me understand that the life Maria lives is a faith-altering, category-defying story of hope rising from the ashes of despair. In church work we sometimes use the metaphor of rescue when we talk about salvation. I find that with stories like Maria's, rescue only begins to describe the miraculous work of God in her life. Here, in the form of Maria, was the flesh and blood fulfillment of Jesus' promise. The oppressed had been set free; the captive released. This early exposure to justice ministry profoundly altered my faith and firmly put us on the path toward becoming a church that practiced not only mercy but also justice.
The Dawn
Over the last five years at the invitation of IJM, qualified members of The River have provided training to Peruvian prosecutors, judges, doctors, social workers, and police on topics ranging from sensitivity training on domestic violence and sexual abuse to more technical seminars on victim interview techniques to minimize re-victimization and medical examination techniques to identify physical evidence of sexual abuse. Most recently we were able to raise enough money to purchase a 25-acre property outside the city of Huánuco to serve as a combination shelter and aftercare center that will ensure the maximum possible protection of victims. Over the last five years, we have been privileged to witness a cultural shift with respect to the issues of domestic violence and sexual abuse of children in the region. These evils, while still present, are no longer a dark secret. Even darkness as deep as this cannot overcome the dawn.
This formational experience of justice ministry left me wanting more. So, recently, after nine years of ministry at The River, I transitioned to working directly for IJM out of a desire to partner with more and more churches stepping into justice ministry.
Today the exciting truth is that there are more and more churches like The River. Their growing concern for justice has led them to change lives in places few are willing to go. They are bringing hope to the houses of young girls raising children conceived through serial rape. They are bringing freedom to rice mills where modern-day slaves are held in forced labor. And they are bringing rescue to the brothels of red-light districts where children are trafficked and repeatedly raped for profit. These courageous leaders and their churches are not afraid to believe that the God they worship hates injustice and wants it to stop. They have the audacity to believe that the church itself is nothing less than God's plan for ending this horrible suffering.
How are these churches awakening to God's call to justice? While there is no one path or prescription, they do share some things in common. In general they've taken the time to educate themselves, explore the possibilities, and then engage at some simple beginning place.
Ongoing education about biblical justice is vital. Here are a few ideas to begin or continue your journey:
1) IJM (ijm.org) has made some great educational resources available to churches pursuing justice. Books such as Good News About Injustice (InterVarsity Press), Terrify No More (Thomas Nelson), and Just Courage (IVP) all offer a very helpful blend of Scripture and storytelling that will foster great discussion in small groups.
2) Another excellent way to inspire and challenge your congregation toward justice ministry is to invite an IJM speaker to your church. A biblical message on God's heart for justice combined with stories about IJM rescues is a very compelling way to begin a smaller, more personal Justice Task Force within your congregation. This group can continue to study, stretch, and grow. Contact speakers@ijm.org for more information.
The first place to explore is the geography right around your church.
Where you live -- Are you aware of the justice issues your community is facing? Having learned what to look for in the education phase, a Justice Task Force from your church can begin doing some research to better understand the justice issues in your own community. Tools for this work range from reading newspapers with a specific eye toward justice issues to meeting with civic leaders in your communities. A network called Unite is a great example of a group of churches partnering together to deal with sex trafficking in their city.
Susan Wanderer, children's minister at Mount Ararat Baptist Church in Stafford, Virginia, began an education and exploration process that led to the discovery of two brothels right in her own county in Virginia. In fact, local authorities discovered that Asian and Latin American women were being trafficked to within miles of her church. Local law enforcement and immigration officials have been more than happy to brainstorm ways Mount Ararat might be helpful in dealing with these situations.
Where you travel -- Another great IJM tool is the IJM Mission Training DVD. Designed as a training component for short-term mission teams, IJM Mission Training equips teams to enter their short-term experiences with their eyes open to issues of injustice. This is a great resource to help you explore justice ministry where you're already engaged in mercy ministry.
The final step is to engage in the work of justice.
Among the many churches partnering with the work of IJM, no two are the same. The churches themselves differ in size, worship style, geography, and ethnicity. The work they're doing ranges from supporting IJM staff with letters of encouragement and care packages to partnering with IJM to open brand new field offices (and everything in between). Here are some basics for beginning to engage:
Pray. Engaging in the work of justice generally does one of two things: It drives you to prayer or it drives you to despair. As you connect with specific issues of injustice, you will be tempted to despair. But this is the place where we must turn instead to prayer. The worship pastor at The River (the-river.org) created a specific monthly prayer meeting just for justice issues. It's been a helpful place for many to cry out to God for justice to roll down.
Every spring IJM hosts a weekend prayer event near Washington, D. C., called the Global Prayer Gathering. Each year about 800 people come to hear about the work of IJM directly from the field staff and to pray for the work, the workers, and the victims of injustice. The GPG is a great place to learn and a great place to engage.
Give. Another engagement option is to pay for the rescue the poor cannot afford. The 16 IJM field offices love the kind of support churches can provide. Financial gifts to support the work, prayer to support the workers, and care packages are all welcome.
Campaign. As citizens of the U.S., we have the privilege and the obligation to be the conscience of our government. The IJM Government Relations department works to help you understand various foreign policy and foreign aid initiatives that in IJM's opinion would greatly serve the poor in the majority world. Visit the IJM Web site for information on how your church can join the campaign.
Step out. Once your Justice Task Force has identified an area of injustice, and once you've prayed through the possibilities, it's time to move toward action. You may not feel ready. In fact if your church is anything like The River, you won't. What you'll likely feel most are fear and uncertainty. But these are the building blocks of faith. You don't have to be able to see beyond the first step. You simply need courage to take it.
Seek help. The church mobilization staff at IJM loves working with churches that are stepping out into justice. We can be reached at churches@ijm.org. We look forward to hearing from you.
The prophet Isaiah tells us that when we engage in the work of justice, light breaks forth like the dawn. I began this article with the reflection that 50 years ago, our churches had no idea what to do about the darkness of hunger and poverty. By God's grace and the faithfulness of some very courageous church leaders, that has changed. It is my hope and prayer that the next decade of church leadership will see nothing short of the full light of dawn breaking over the darkness of injustice.
*In order to protect the individuals IJM serves, a pseudonym has been used, though the account is real. Actual names and casework documentation are on file with IJM.
JIM MARTIN serves as National Director of Church Mobilization for International Justice Mission. IJM is a human rights agency that secures justice for victims of slavery, sexual exploitation and other forms of violent oppression. IJM lawyers, investigators, and aftercare professionals work with local governments to ensure victim rescue, to prosecute perpetrators, and to strengthen the community and civic factors that promote functioning public justice systems.
copyright © 2009 Group Publishing Inc.
