Thursday 17 July 2008

Deprived Communities, Evangelical Churches and Faith-Based Family Care: Grace's final sermon to her Place of Former Employment

Deprived Communities, Evangelical Churches and Faith-Based Family Care: how maybe it works and maybe it doesn’t

This is something I wrote during my final few weeks in the job. I'm bumping it up now as it's the last vaguely well-thought-out thing I've posted in a while and, yes... comments from any newly-discovered readers are very most welcome...

The Deprived Community

It is often said that the problems of the Deprived Community stem from a generationally-ingrained culture of dependency, learned helplessness and minimal aspirations. It is true that some of the expectations held by people (you won’t get your GCSEs, you will do drugs and get in trouble with the police, you will be a crap parent and get Social Services trying to get your bairn took off you) seem extremely negative. However, these are attitudes, aspirations and expectations created, held and perpetuated not only by the Deprived People themselves. Instead, they’re things which people have been told or have had more subtly communicated to them by Early Years practitioners, the very structure of the benefits system and the plethora of statutory and voluntary “services” which exists to “help” them. The Deprived Community “poor”, the whole economic structure of society’s response to social exclusion and those at grass-roots level seeking to help the poor all conspire together to keep the “poor” marginalised and downtrodden. What is needed, then, is a way out. A breaking of the cycle at one point or another.

And there appear to be two main approaches to this.

Firstly, there’s the suit-wearing, married toff people who sit in offices and eat lots of biscuits talking about the Deprived People. Their view is essentially that of the political Right - that governments need to cut “services” to promote independence and to reform economically so that people are financially better off in work than on benefits. Ideal, provided the Deprived Community “poor” were both grateful and delighted and able to eagerly partake of each available job opportunity wiping floors or bums or tables, thus reducing dependency whilst reinforcing all social divisions. Getting people into meaningful, productive and dignifying economic activity is a hugely complex task, and one that can’t be done from the distance of a policy-making office. You need to meet and get to know the people.

Secondly, there’s the liberal, educated, veggie box, Lib Dem lefties who’ve chosen to live in the Deprived Community. Their argument is for “services” to become more inclusive, empowering, user-led, grass-roots and radical in their approach, leading the “poor” to rebel against their oppression. It’d be great. Yet experience shows that people who are hungry, depressed and addicted, who are contending with rising damp on the second floor and the need to buy school shoes for their sixth child, do not have the energy of inclination for revolt. And they also find the posh parents at the Childrens Centres and toddler groups make them feel nervous – although the posh parents are really friendly – about going to things like that. Lots of them are, like, social workers and psychologist-type people and you don’t want to be in the same room as them. The empowerment of a community requires relationships deeper and more committed than either the neighbourly or the professional. You need not only to meet and to get to know the people, you need to meet and get to know and live with and alongside and amongst and share everything of your lives with them.

This is what Jesus did.

When he came to earth as the Son of God, Jesus did so in order to meet and get to know and live with and alongside and amongst and share everything of his lives with people, and by so doing, he demonstrated to the world how God wants us to radically recreate society and form a better world. So, in the context of a struggling, marginalised, downtrodden inner-city neighbourhood, the Church has, in the life of Jesus, a wonderful example to follow. And, in the form of the Holy Spirit, the perfect advocate and supervisor to show us how to do it. And the Church, too, has a very clear advantage over all other services, initiatives, projects and social or neighbourhood organisations: its staying power. Churches, and their people, will be in existence for hundreds of years beyond any New Deal, Sure Start or any other social project.

So, therein lies the awareness of an approach that works and the motivation and funding to carry it through. Does it work?

The answer, I think, must lie both in the experience of Those Who Come To Christ from the Deprived Community and in the experience of Those Who Don’t Get It.


Let’s start with Those Who Come To Christ

Are they enabled to have a meaningful experience of God and community? Are they accepted and included? Are they liberated and empowered?

Are they enabled to have a meaningful experience of God and community? Those who have come to faith from Deprived Community are quite definite in affirming that yes, they have. But people who have visited the church as unbelievers or seekers from other backgrounds seem generally not to. Unless a person had “needs” or requires “help”, the church struggles to know how to respond to them.

Are they accepted and included? To a certain extent, but probably only as far as normal class boundaries permit. They are welcome as cleaners, caretakers and caterers, but not in working with the young people, in handling the money or as members of the Leadership. Those are still jobs for the men, for the doctors, for the posh people in the church.

Are they liberated and empowered? I’m not sure.

The first problem, as I see it, of the church approach to outreach within the Deprived Community is that it utilises that very culture of dependency it needs to challenge. It exploits the prevailing culture of hopelessness and dependency by its desire to “help” or “support” or to “care for” people and families. It’s a colonial approach to mission which was developed by 18th Century British missionaries throughout the non-Western world, whereby the natives were taught British social and cultural values as an allegedly integral part of the Christian gospel. It’s an attitude still ingrained within middle class Christianity, to the extent that many are not aware or able to even question it. The evangelical church, in the same way as wider British society, revolves around its notions of them and us.

And the second problem, of course, is that it’s never that simple. What happens when a woman previously afflicted by psychosis and talking to demons suddenly regains clarity of thought and wants to preach on a Sunday morning? What happens when a teenage lad reveals his attraction to other men and insists she is as affirmed by God as ever before? What happens when a “non-Christian” wants to lead a Bible study because he believes God can use his knowledge and insights? The evangelical church cannot cope with experiences which challenge its dogmas. And yet, whenever Christians have sought to engage with a new culture, they’ve been forced to. The evangelical church, for reasons I have never found credible, is afraid to think.

Thirdly, a fear of thinking is, in itself, something I find quite frightening. That every syllable of the Bible is a dictated-from-a-cloud utterance from God is a valid theological position; however those that adhere to this view need to recognise that God’s original Word was delivered in Hebrew and Greek and that any English translation will inevitably be choosing one of a number of understandings of many texts. And most people within as well as outside of Deprived Communities don’t like being told not to think or question or discuss.


And what about the experience of Those Who Don’t Get It?

Why doesn’t it work for them? It’s their fault, obviously. The church could never have got it wrong or have failed them, because the Church is Christ’s body on earth. That’s as far as evangelical thinking goes. However, I would propose a few further suggestions.

Firstly, they might not want or need the sort of “help” or “care” or “support” on offer. Not everyone has or perceives themselves to have to stereotypical “felt needs” of Deprived Community, not everyone wants to enter into a relationship of such dependency. And even if they do want voluntary-sector or faith-based “help”, the church isn’t the only place offering. And the Hare Krishnas down the road do it all vegetarian, too.

Secondly, they may have a background or experiences which fall beyond the scope of what church workers are educationally, intellectually or spiritually equipped to engage with. And church workers have, like anyone else, their professional and personal limitations and prejudices. Like Barack Obama throughout the US, anyone coming the church with an ambiguous ethnic background or allegedly Arab-sounding name will be treated as a practicing and Islamist Muslim, whether or he would define himself as such. Yet whereas professional workers have supervision sessions to consider their practice, their limitations and their prejudices, church workers flounder along in what they’re doing, often with very little space to ask, talk, think or pray.

Thirdly, they might be asking questions they’re not supposed to ask. Like, “why are you trying to put me through a Christian basics course when I’ve read the Bible four times already?” (ans: “because you’re unsaved so you can’t have read it properly”) and “how do you know that the Bible is the word of God?” (ans: “because it says so”) and “why when you say you have full gender, ethnic and class equality here are all the deacons white, male and doctors?” (ans: “don’t ask”) and “but what about how it describes Jesus in the Qu’ran?” (ans: “um, er...”) And so forth. Evangelical Christians are like doctors (and thus so many doctors are evangelical Christians) because both are trained to believe that they know everything, have all the answers and can essentially rely on themselves to be more literate and knowledgeable than those to whom they’re talking. And even in Deprived Communities, people beg to differ. As, of course, did Jesus.

So where do we go from here?

This, then, would be my set of recommendations for evangelical churches wanting to work within Deprived Communities
  1. Look after your own workers. Make sure there’s time and space to study, train, think, talk and pray together.
  2. Listen to your community. Consider the wider picture, but leave space to recognise the diversity of individuals.
  3. Rely on the example of Jesus. He was excellent at both of the above.
  4. Don’t think purely in terms of what you can “give” or how you can “serve”. Think about what you can learn from people, and how you can work together.
  5. Don’t be afraid to admit when you get it wrong.
  6. Don't fall into the trap of believing you can speak directly for God and be his gatekeeper. Remember that, as you keep saying, he's bigger than you are.
  7. Pray. And listen to what God tells you.

21 comments:

Erika Baker said...

Point 7 - don't believe you can speak directly for God and be his gatekeeper.

Wow, excellent sermon! Will you deliver it?

grace said...

That too.

Will deliver in my dreams!

grace said...

I've added it as point 6. I wanted prayer as the climax!

Steve Lancaster said...

Hi Grace,

Met you at big, big church (not place of former employment)(and friend of poet and writer and sons...) in run-up to your wedding. Congrats on which to both of you, BTW.

As someone who, like you, has been deeply moved by 1) city deprivation; 2) the love and mystery at the deep heart of the gospel; 3) the experience of finding God outside as well as inside the evangelical christian box, can I say how very, very much I appreciated this post?

I don't know what the answer is. But I've become more and more certain the gospels can be read in a decentralised as well as an institutionalised way. For every gathering of disciples there's a diaspora of individuals sent by Jesus back to their home-towns, cultures and families.(Though 'sent' is a loaded term, I suspect?)

So I'd want churches to expect this - what do you call it? Shadow church? Unconscious church? Un-, non-, other-, or even anti-church? - to be there providing an alternative presence at one and the same time as anything formal. And I'd want the formal churches to relax into this truth. It would take the pressure off. It would remove some of the guilt and desperation loaded onto community workers and church leaders by their congregations. It would make life twice as fun, and round out, for everyone, a vision of God as being at least twice as bountiful as we can ever consciously comprehend. It would allow space for questioning, too.

I'm hopeful, because I reckon this is already present in the community (as perhaps it always was). And now people are starting to find ways of talking about it, and playing with it, for real.

Ah shucks - knew you were both great when friends talked about you, thought you were great when I met you, and really, really do enjoy this blog. And now you've moved on! Here's a scattergun blast of gentle prayer as you explore what God has next for you. Hope you don't mind me crashing in on this post!

Love Steve

grace said...

Steve!!!! Great to see you here. A lot, a lot to think about... but I will respond... and we may soon be back to Big, Big Church, too...

Anonymous said...

Be careful when you simply tell people to "7. Pray". Make sure you tell them really to be listening to each other and to whoever they're praying to, otherwise they'll be tempted simply to listen to their own thoughts and be reassured of their own assumptions...

grace said...

True. Have edited.

Anonymous said...

Very interesting. You highlight many of the issues I studied in a module called "The Church and the City". There are many issues here and I throw some things into the pot.

1) You can't be ordained in the CofE and remain working class. By definition you are educated into the middle classes. This means that as clergy you are always going to be on a different level to those you are ministering to in an area of deprivation.

I'm not clergy BTW. I am the son of a miner though. As much as I don't want to say it... I'm middle class because they taught me to follow my dreams and go to university... and when I graduated I became middle class - and married my nice middle class wife and live in my nice middle class house with my nice middle class garden, BBQ and recycling.

2) When people gain social capital they usually use it to leave. This means that the church in an area of high deprivation remains as ineffective as it has always been because the people who can walk alongside....

...don't want to.

We found this in inner city Leeds. People meet Jesus, sort out their lives and then move somewhere nicer.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, in many respects, that is the ends to which we desire the means.

So this begs the question where would we be without the nice middle class lefties who actively chose to move in and walk alongside.

The vicar of Byker who ran the module was always keen to point out that he lived the life and was committed to the long haul. He had been there for 10 years and had no intention of leaving.

Robb

Steve Lancaster said...

Hey Robb!

Who was the Byker vicar? Is he still there and reachable?

I've fond memories from the early 1990s of a vicar called Phil Janvier at an inner-city church in Liverpool. Wild man (passion for Doctor Who, I remember). He carried his class awareness lightly, I think (like a light-sabre or stratocaster).

Now we live in suburban coastal Whitley Bay. Was inspired by Shane Claiborne at GB06 to declare to him that his inner-city anarchism had found expression in the suburbs - but not sure what my (let alone your, Grace's and others) take on that would be in the cold light of day? still working it out...!

Steve Lancaster said...

...Actually this is a better link for Shane Claiborne and friends.

Joe said...

That is just excellent Grace. I need to go and read it again.

Anonymous said...

Sorry Steve, I can't remember. He ran an MA level module called "Theology in the City: Regeneration in the Urban Context". I know that it is one of the many different forms of team ministry that the CofE has. He may have actually been at Walker (but I figured that the www would have no idea where that was).

I used to live in Heaton but when I did my MA I was in Durham... which made the public transport to walker a total nightmare.

Robb

Ruth Hull Chatlien said...

Hi, Grace. I enjoyed reading this. Here are a couple of unorganized reactions:

I'm surprised (or maybe not) by how similar things are in the United States to what you describe here. Americans like to tout this as a classless society, but it's not. Not at all.

The sentence that struck me the hardest was: "It exploits the prevailing culture of hopelessness and dependency by its desire to “help” or “support” or to “care for” people and families." I think that is key. I've seen that in operation, although in a radically different context from the one you are describing. Somehow we must stop thinking in terms of "us" versus "them."

I also have struggled with the tendency of Evangelicals here not wanting to think. So fear based.

Finally, this sermon or reflection contains a lot of meaty points. I think it might be interesting for you to break it down and explore some of the main points in greater depth in separate posts. Like the "Evangelicals don't think" statement. Why do you think that is? What ramifications does that have beyond what you state here?

If you are looking to broaden the topics you cover in your blog, I think you have a great start with this post. This is fodder here for many more discussions.

Peace.

grace said...

A lot, a lot to think about...

I was surprised, particularly, by this.

Robb: "When people gain social capital they usually use it to leave. This means that the church in an area of high deprivation remains as ineffective as it has always been because the people who can walk alongside... don't want to. We found this in inner city Leeds. People meet Jesus, sort out their lives and then move somewhere nicer."

I rarely found this. In my experience, people left for nicer areas for two reasons
1. Their kids - either because they were unhappy or were getting into trouble on the streets, or because they couldn't get into any of the good/OK local schools. I'm not sure how much thinking goes on in every family into the impact of living in such areas.
2. Burnout/disillusionment from having become so much more heavily involved in the community than before they became involved in the church. In such a context, it's exhausting. And this is something which the church doesn't, I think, take account of, doesn't sufficiently support people.

I can only agree with the Byker vicar... it needs a long-term, and ideally life-long, commitment. And, I think, a strong relationship with God and a definite sense of calling.

At some point, too, I will take up Ruth's challenge of why evanglicals mightn't - or indeed might - be good at thinking...

Anonymous said...

I am starting to own the evangelical label after many years of fighting against it for obvious reasons. I'd like to think that I think...

Grace, where do your 'leavers' come from? How are they in a position to leave?

I'll try and explain a bit better. When someone comes in a broken way...

....hmmm.... this isn't going to work generic. I'll be specific but this is just one example. This is based upon experience rather than anything else. There are other examples of real life problems, this is just an example (have I stuck in enough provisos to actually say this?? :D )

When I have opened the vicarage door each day in a UPA - area of high social deprivation (not my vicarage, a relatives) and meet an alcoholic who needs to feed the kids, you love them. You don't do it out of pity, you do it because you see yourself staring back.

When that person meets Jesus he has a real impact. People see themselves and feel His love and want more. Jesus raises peoples expectations. Jesus tells people that there is more to life than this. That person may decide to kick the drink. The church will/should support them. There is a sense of community (see the social capital build). The person becomes able to access training/work.

Person has money for first time ever and looks around them. They see their old life and don't want it. They have a job and means of escaping the sink estate and do it.

I have seen this time and time again.

Look at old maps of Byker and new maps of Byker. (I know the area that's why I'm using it as an example). People are abandoning the area whenever they can. The population is dwindling. The church used to be in the middle of terrace after terrace. Now it is in the middle of a car park for Mecca Bingo and Morrisons. People develop social capital and then leave.

Robb

Grace said...

Hey, Grace,

I found your message very interesting. It could certainly apply to alot of situations right here in the U.S.

But, I don't think it's just evangelicals that have these type of problems in church. From my experience, I think these are issues that are pretty much there across the board, whether a church self-identifies as evangelical or not.

Also, it's been my experience here in the U.S., that very often the churches that identify as evangelical are more likely to be multi-racial, with alot of cross cultural friendships with the disadvantaged, than some of the more upper-middle class progressive congregations.

It just depends on the area, and the individual situation.

(My handle is Grace, too. :))

grace said...

Robb no, I was talking about the veggie-box lefties (I hope I can get away with such a pejorative term as I count myself as one really... except that my last address in Deprived Community was so notorious that the veggie-box deliverers wouldn't enter the street...) So yes, I accept your point. I don't know Byker (coming as I do, of course, from Lambeth) but I've just been geeky enough to download the ward statistics etc... and yes, similar sort of Deprived Community, broadly speaking. Nice wall, too.

Interesting to hear Ruth and Grace both say that things are similar in the US. I think that, evangelical or not, the gospel needs to break down barriers and bring people together

Anonymous said...

Sorry, I wasn't making this out to be an evangelical thing.... it's a Jesus thing. He wants us to know that there is something better. The question is where do people take there something better?

Robb

boxthejack said...

A very stimulating post.

I'm increasingly interested in class-struggle leftism as an expression of a Kingdom economic ethic.

If you have to work to live, and if you do not purchase another’s labour with capital and then claim to own the product of that labour, you are technically working class - whether you listen to Wagner, wear a suit, or even have disposable income.

The Bible implies that ownership over the produce of one’s labour is part of human dignity, so our status as working class is more than technical.

Arguably we have common cause with all workers in seeking to undermine the class system, which allows some to get very rich by manipulating numbers (currency speculation etc.) and others to remain poor producing things.

‘Middle class’ is, one might argue, a ruse to make working class people feel content (self identified middle class people who maybe have high incomes but are nevertheless wage slaves, and wholly tied into this dehumanising system) or aspirational, and thereby to put water in their revolutionary engines.

This is remarkably empowering as a veggie box lefty. All of a sudden our affinity with the poor, mandated by Christ, is reaffirmed by our class identification, not compromised by it.

We are not fighting their cause out of charity, but resisting principalities and powers that dehumanise us too. No longer are we the philanthropists but revolutionaries - precisely because we don't have rising damp etc.

Back to basics, the gospel is good news to the poor, and it is disingenuous to spiritualise this. The overiding OT economic ethic into which tithing and other sharing fits is one of embracing the poorest, economic justice, land tenancy not ownership, jubilee, and (thankfully) feasting.

Ultimately then, I don’t think the Rich Young Ruler tells us enough - it tells us we should sacrifice anything beyond what we need to live the covenant life (including, again, feasting).

But, rather than being excessive, it is not enough to sell all we have and give to the poor - we need universal rebirth. Part of Jesus’ transformational power was that he bypassed the religious and political structures and thereby created an alternative praxis that held things in common with the poorest. The Empire didn’t know whether to laugh them off as irrelevant (Pilate) or torch them as dangerous (Nero).

We can expect both once we start having some success.

This has only come to me recently so I may be wildly off the mark, but throw it into the mix.

boxthejack said...

Of course one danger of this is that it means we can take comfort in our identity and forget actually to serve our poorest brothers and sisters!

grace said...

Only just come across this... thanks. Again, very challenging...