Organizing the Church

My involvement with the Occupy movement this year has given me a lot of insight into the way groups of people unite around a common set of concerns. In my work with Occupy Our Homes, I have seen the power that can be unleashed when a small group of people focus their passion to work together for justice. And in recent months I have spent time studying and testing models of community organizing that could forge our organization into a more effective instrument of empowerment for the 99%.

As I have begun to explore the practice of community organizing, a whole new world has opened up for me. I am particularly inspired by the pioneering strategic philosophy of Saul Alinsky and his successors. While by no means do I agree with the whole of Alinsky's ideology (especially his abysmally cynical view of human nature), I know in my gut that his model, which has been refined and enriched by successive generations of organizers, is of great value. I feel the need to integrate the wisdom of this tradition into my own life and work.

This will involve integrating my "religious" concern as a gospel minister and my "social" concern as a budding organizer for economic justice. Looking to Jesus, I see that his "spiritual" mission was never separated from his "social" mission. Spiritual liberty and material emancipation from social and economic bondage have always been two sides of the same coin. I serve the Savior who brings not merely an invisible, "spiritual" rebirth, but a genuine refashioning of the whole human community. As Jesus revealed when he was nailed to a cross for sedition against the Roman state, the gospel is dangerously practical!

Is my own faith similarly practical? Does the life of my community reveal the messianic Kingdom of Jesus - the visible, redeemed network of social relationships that God created us for? Does the life of the Church bear witness to the wholeness, justice, mercy and love of the God of Isaiah?

As a Christian in the United States, these questions challenge me. I see how many of our Christian communities have far too little to do with the living power of Jesus' gospel. So often, we fail to combine the inward work of spiritual transformation with the outward labor of making the Kingdom of God visible.

Rather than dividing the work of spiritual transformation and social justice between religious and secular institutions, how could we embody the dynamic inward/outward tension that Jesus demonstrates? What might the practice of community organizing teach us about building healthy congregations that exist to serve our neighbors?

Community Organizing and the Gospel

As I get excited about community-based organizing here in DC, I cannot help but notice the parallels between the work of the organizer and the labor of the gospel minister. When I reflect on the work of Paul, Margaret Fell, George Fox and so many other servants of the gospel, it seems clear that their ministry did not consist of simply delivering a verbal proclamation about Jesus and demanding intellectual assent to certain propositions.

Nor did they limit their ministry to individuals. Christ's apostles throughout the ages have clearly seen their role as being to challenge and nurture entire communities. The gospel is not merely limited to some sort of interior heart-change; everywhere that the good news of Jesus is authentically proclaimed and received, the Holy Spirit unleashes a wave of counter-cultural activity, transforming communities in the very practical details of their lives - spiritual, social and economic.

Throughout the Scriptures and the history of the Christian Church, there is a strong connection between sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ and empowering local communities to work for justice. Faith without works is dead and, in the grand scheme of things, works without community are limited, at best.

When I recognize that Jesus founded his ministry on a proclamation of debt forgiveness and human liberation, the implications are clear. No longer can I let myself off the hook, imagining that the purpose of faith is to make me feel good, or even to make me personally righteous. Instead, I must face the reality that my own salvation is bound up in the groaning of all creation, and that I have a role to play in the story of cosmic liberation.

At the same time, my role in this grand narrative usually does not seem "cosmic" at all. Organizing for justice is some of the most brutally earthy work I know. What could be more tangible than walking into a neighborhood where you do not live, knocking on the door of someone you do not know, and asking whoever answers, "What are your deepest concerns? What do you and others in your community feel passionate about? What is the change that you wish to see?" Community organizing is all about particular, personal relationships. We often only see the transcendent once we have taken the plunge into the terrifying work of being human.

What is the connection between gospel ministry and community organizing? When I go canvassing in DC neighborhoods, my goal is not to convince those whom I meet to accept the gospel as I understand it. Instead, I am focused on practical human needs, obstacles that have been placed in the way, and the tools that we need to get our community's needs met. The immediacy of the human precedes the transcendent. If we see God, it is only from behind.

But that does not mean that there is no divine connection. As I understand it, the goal of community organizing is to draw out the hidden creativity, passion, energy and thirst for justice that lies latent in all human communities. For me, that hints at something even deeper. Where does that hidden power come from? Who is the source of our hunger and thirst for structural justice and personal righteousness? Who inspires the love that allows a community to unite around its weakest members and see an aggression against one as an attack on everyone?

I believe that this Source Jesus Christ. If I can be an instrument to call out the secret power that lies waiting in every human community, I believe that I am nurturing the life of the gospel. If I can help equip a community to draw nearer to the source of all justice, righteousness and love, I know that I am participating in the process of drawing people to Jesus through the power of his Holy Spirit. I trust that, through this process, the Lord will provide me openings to share about the source of my passion and joy. If I am ready to give an account of the hope that is within me, some may be encouraged to explore a deeper, more explicit relationship with Jesus.

How have you seen God at work in your community? What has been your experience of being part of a community that is lovingly challenged and nurtured - whether by explicit gospel ministry, Spirit-led eldership, or apparently secular community organizing? How have you experienced God calling you to organize in your community, to lift up the hidden life and power of God?

Hitting the Streets with Occupy Our Homes

In the last eight months, I have become deeply involved in the work of Occupy Our Homes DC (OOHDC). Our goal is to prevent unjust foreclosures and evictions of homeowners and tenants in our area. We have taken a multifaceted approach that brings pressure to bear on the people and structures that are bullying our friends: We engage public officials, conventional news reporters, social media campaigns, and - of course - the banks themselves. These are areas where we are strong, and getting stronger.

But our toolbox is still missing a screwdriver or two. In my view, our most critical "growing edge" is the way we engage with the neighborhoods where our homeowners and tenants live. Our media campaign is surging; we are figuring out where the banks' pressure points are; and we have a strong base in the DC activist community - but so far we have mostly neglected the real source of grassroots power that will make or break us as an organization.

Last week, we had a community barbecue at the home of Deborah Harris. The idea was for Deborah's neighbors to come have a hot dog and learn about the details of her case. We hoped to develop awareness within the community where the foreclosure is actually taking place, because if this could happen to Deborah, it could happen to any of us.

In preparation for the barbecue, we spent our evenings canvassing the area. We went door to door, asking folks to sign a petition to Freddie Mac; we followed up with an invite to the barbecue. These nights out in the neighborhood were the highlight of my summer! It was so amazing to get into the streets and talk to other DC residents about the issues affecting the neighborhood. By the time the barbecue rolled around, we had collected a lot of signatures and convinced some people to show up for the cook-out. Even more importantly for me, I had gained a much better understanding of the character of Deborah's neighborhood, and of the concerns that local residents share.

It turns out that foreclosures are not limited to Deborah's house. When we were canvassing we met other individuals who were being thrown out of their homes by the banks, and many others knew someone who had been foreclosed on. Some of Deborah's neighbors viewed these foreclosures as being part of a system that is pushing older, African-American residents out of the neighborhood, making way for the next wave of gentrification. There was a lot going on in Deborah's part of town, and I felt sure that if we dug just a little deeper we would learn even more!

In my mind, getting out into the neighborhood was our first serious step into community organizing. Previously, we had largely been operating out of an advocacy model, seeking to create change "on behalf of" affected communities. This is not what we wanted of course, but so many of us have professional backgrounds in advocacy work that it is hard to break the habit. But now I see an opportunity for us to explore models that place our local neighborhoods and community networks at the center of the process, encouraging the whole community to express their needs and to determine what is necessary to achieve their goals.

As these developments have unfolded, I have been deeply inspired by conversations with veteran organizer Laura Dungan - founder of Sunflower Community Action in Wichita, Kansas. She has taken time out to take me under her wing, nurturing me with her wealth of experience, as well as acquainting me with the example of her own mentor, Shel Trapp. I am catching a vision for what grassroots, people-centered organizing might look like here in DC.

As I begin to explore what this all means, I have a lot of questions: What is the relationship between my calling to gospel ministry and this new opening to grassroots organizing in an apparently secular setting? How can I bear testimony to the life and power of Jesus Christ, while deeply respecting and working closely with those who do not necessarily profess faith in him? What is the right balance of action and contemplation, engagement with the wider society and grounding within the Church? What steps can I take to be sure that I ask in every moment and situation: "Lord, show me where you are at work. Use my life to reveal your hidden power and love."