Close this search box.
Posted on

Review of David L. Baker, Tight Fists or Open Hands?

David L. Baker. Tight Fists or Open Hands? Wealth and Poverty in Old Testament Law. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009. 411 pp. $36.00.

Some may remember the opening decade of the 21st century as the time when many churches turned wholeheartedly toward helping the poor. Young missionaries flocked to the poverty stricken areas of the majority world, new congregations popped up in blighted neighborhoods of American inner cities, and workers sprinted to every major disaster area. While this development gives me great satisfaction, I sense that our practice of mercy has outdistanced our theology. Whenever I preach or teach about the biblical call to justice, too many people continue to respond by saying, “That’s the first sermon or class I’ve ever heard about the poor.” Our theology of justice should motivate and define our practice.

David L. Baker addresses this exact issue. After years of living among the poor in Indonesia, with academic training in the Old Testament, and now working as senior lecturer in Old Testament at Trinity Theological College in Perth, Australia, Baker focuses on what the Pentateuchal laws say about wealth and poverty within the ancient Near Eastern context.

He takes a canonical approach which offers a common ground for those with a variety of views on Scripture. He limits the work to the Pentateuch. Given the assumption that the entire Bible has a consistent view of a just God, what we learn about the theology of wealth and poverty in the law could serve as a foundation for all that the Bible says on the subject.

Baker follows a distinct pattern. After a brief introduction to each category of law relating to wealth and poverty, he presents how the 16 extant ancient Near Eastern non-biblical law codes treat that category of law before turning to the biblical material. In each section, a conclusion summarizes the data and draws limited implications.

Baker’s volume is noteworthy for its range of coverage. His work is exhaustive: comprehensive in its identification of biblical laws relating to wealth and poverty, meticulous in finding corollary laws in the non-biblical codes, and thorough in citing the secondary literature (the bibliography runs 53 pages). Baker clearly provides the reader with the raw data.

By this raw data, Baker affirms the claim of Deut 4:8 that the Mosaic laws are more just than those of Israel’s neighbors. For example, biblical law penalizes lawbreakers less frequently with mutilation, beating, or death than the ancient Near Eastern laws. The biblical laws are more just than the other codes in these ways: they more often protect the vulnerable, more frequently favor the poor who borrow or rent over the rich who own, more equally apply to all members of the community, and more often are rooted in concern for a just community over economic protection of the wealthy. Additionally, Baker finds few or no laws in the ancient world outside Scripture that prohibit coveting, protect resident aliens, call for a Sabbatical Year, provide for gleaning, regulate tithing, permit scrumping, demand judicial impartiality, or designate holidays for rest. Each of these biblical laws has distinct implications for the community’s most vulnerable people.

Despite this remarkable achievement, Baker leaves much unsaid. First, the volume does not explain the structure of the study. The book is organized into three broad categories of “Property and Land,” “Marginal People,” and “Justice and Generosity,” each with multiple sub points, yet there is no explanation about why these categories were chosen or how they function in comprehensively describing Israel’s laws on wealth and poverty.

Second, and perhaps more significantly, some of the presentations end abruptly without drawing out the implications for a theology of justice. On occasion Baker does synthesize and theologize, showing that he recognizes the significance of moving beyond the data, but there is no consistency to these moves or attempt to provide a comprehensive theological view based on the laws about the poor.

His treatment of slavery illustrates both the achievements and the shortcomings of this work. The biblical and non-biblical laws differ radically on the matter of fugitive slaves. The ancient world obligated all citizens to return a fugitive slave while the Pentateuch commanded Israelites to provide hospitality and refuge. The ancient Near Eastern laws about slaves rested on economic concerns, while the biblical laws grew out of the value of human life. This compassion toward slaves recalled Israel’s own slavery in Egypt. He argues that fixed-term slavery in Israel would be roughly the same as paid employment today. Baker helpfully explains the various kinds of slavery implied in the biblical laws. These kinds of significant insights are too infrequent in this volume, and even these are never stitched into a visualized whole.

For instance, Baker draws attention to how the biblical laws allow fugitive slaves freedom to determine where they are to live. He notes that generally the Old Testament laws provided this choice to those at the margins of society, not the elite (David and Solomon must live in Jerusalem). Given one definition of poverty as the lack of choices, this is a striking revelation, but Baker stops short of such implications.

In another case, he argues that the ancient world was not ready for a ban on slavery any more than the contemporary world, which statistically has more enslaved people than any other point in history. However, Baker makes no attempt to process this remarkable conclusion. The reader often wishes for another paragraph or two that reflects theologically on the justice implications of these laws.

Baker’s volume provides the valuable raw material for constructing a comprehensive theology of justice and in a way reminds us that much work remains to be done. Contemporary Christians seemingly willing to go anywhere or do anything to help the poor would do well to ponder the implications of the Old Testament laws about the marginal and, in that reflection, find biblical motivations for going and theologically sound goals to accomplish.

Harold Shank

Professor of Old Testament

Oklahoma Christian University

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, USA

Dr. Shank has written broadly on the topic of social justice. A bibliography of his work appears at

Posted on

Review of Richard A. Horsley, Covenant Economics

Richard A. Horsley. Covenant Economics: A Biblical Vision of Justice for All. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. 193 pp. $25.00.

In his book Covenant Economics, Richard Horsley, author of twenty books in the field of New Testament studies, examines how the economic principles of the biblical covenant could apply to US society today. Horsley begins by stating his conviction that the nation’s founders desired to set up a society that was rooted in the biblical covenant. Over time, though, an ideology of freedom and individual self-interest pushed the covenant principles to the margins, which then “gave license to entrepreneurs in nascent capitalist enterprises” (xii). Corporations were formed, grew, and began to be treated as entities; eventually they were given stronger “rights” than individuals. Bankruptcy laws meant to protect families experiencing hardship were revised to provide less protection for the family and more protection for the corporation. Recalling the recent economic crises, the author notes that “there are huge government bailouts for corporations, but not for families” (xv). In contrast to living a life defined by the imperial economy, we are reminded that the people of God are called to create covenant communities concerned with economic rights.

Horsley’s book, which is divided into two sections, examines the arc of the biblical story through the lens of economics and highlights the interconnectedness of religion, politics, and economics. The first section looks at “Economic Justice and the Common Good” in the Hebrew Scriptures. Horsley moves chronologically, examining Israel’s socio-economic situation under the Egyptian imperial economy and the subsequent establishment of a covenantal society, and then considering how that society changed throughout the monarchy and the time of the prophets. He looks carefully at the roots of the Mosaic covenant and how it established “a relationship between the people and Yahweh . . . patterned after international treaties that were also inseparably political-economic-religious, enforced by the gods and ceremonial blessings and curses” (23). Yahweh’s ideal is spelled out clearly: families should have a right to their land in order to produce enough to live on, and the poor should be protected. Ultimately, “in Israel’s Covenant the society or body politic . . . is charged with responsibility for guaranteeing the economic rights of the members of the society to an adequate living” (48–49).

In the second section, Horsley examines “The Renewal of Covenantal Community” in the ministry of Jesus and the Apostles. Horsley examines how Mark and Matthew use insights from the Qumran community to contextualize Jesus’ call for the renewal of the covenant. He carefully explores the economic circumstances of Jesus’ day, describing the levels of economic exploitation—the multiple “layers of rulers simultaneously making demands on [the people] for tithes, taxes, and/or tribute” (88). Horsley believes that “Jesus was concerned directly and in a primary way with economic issues” (113) and that “if anything, he intensified the covenantal demands for communal cooperation and mutual aid, to love enemies, do good, and lend liberally, despite or perhaps precisely because of the [economic] pressures” (114). He also looks at how Paul worked to establish Messianic covenantal communities across the Roman Empire.

In his final chapter Horsley looks briefly at some possible applications of the economic dimensions of the biblical covenant to contemporary society. He argues that today’s corporations are the new transnational empires, wielding political influence and growing unchecked as they feed off their subjects through powerful marketing tools based on fear and through high interest rates (168–69). And only in the book’s final two pages does Horsley offer categories of practices for communities of faith to expand the economic dimension of their witness: (1) serve the community (homeless shelters, food pantries, etc.); (2) speak prophetically against corporate abuses and educate the public; and (3) take economic action as a group against injustice (179–80).

Overall I found his description of the historical situation of the New Testament to be helpful, but some of his assumptions about the make-up of the early church were puzzling. He assumes, for example, that only poor people were among Jesus’ early followers, ignoring references in the biblical text to wealthy supporters of Christ’s ministry. He says that “virtually all of those who joined the assemblies of Christ, including both slaves and those who may have been heads of households, thus would have lived around the subsistence level. There is simply no evidence that any were wealthy” (139). Then later he says that “the picture in the book of Acts of a few well-off members is historically unreliable” (142). His decision not to see any wealthy people in the early Messianic communities is problematic, because it limits who then belongs to the covenant community. Assuming that all of the early church was exclusively poor distorts the picture of the early church and keeps us from appreciating and realizing the kind of transformative and inclusive covenant community that God desires—where both rich and poor love and bless each other.

Horsley’s examination of the economic situation of Israel and the early church is enlightening, but my major critique of his book is that he ignores a biblical text, the book of Revelation, that could have strengthened his case for the impact of covenant economics on faith communities. It would have been helpful to see how the Christian communities after Jesus and Paul tried to apply the covenant ideals in their urban environments. Those communities were clearly being squeezed by an imperial economic superpower, and that text could provide valuable insight for his final chapter, where he looks quickly at how communities of faith today can position themselves as a godly alternative to the political-economic powers. While I believe that Horsley could have made a stronger case for an economic vision of justice throughout the whole biblical text, I would still recommend this book as a valuable resource for those who are interested in the economic situation of Israel and the early church and how those faith communities tried to respond to the economic systems of their day in godly ways.

Alan Howell

Missionary serving the Makua-Metto people

Montepuez, Mozambique

Posted on

Review of Richard A. Horsley, Jesus and the Powers

Richard A. Horsley. Jesus and the Powers: Conflict, Covenant, and the Hope of the Poor. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2010. 248 pp. $29.00.

Richard Horsley’s most recent work builds on his prolific writing concerning the socio-political context of first-century Palestine. In Jesus and the Powers, Horsley refutes various anachronistic assumptions that lead recent biblical interpreters to discount or ignore the struggle against oppressive powers depicted in the Gospels. He seeks to show that Jesus led a socio-political prophetic movement that culminated in a direct challenge to the Roman authorities resulting in his martyrdom. This catalyzed an alternative social order that grew exponentially despite the real possibility that his followers might also face crucifixion. For Horsley, the core of the gospel message is Jesus’ renewal of the Mosaic covenant whose socio-economic principals give hope to the poor.

Horsley’s first three chapters set the backdrop for Jesus’ life and ministry. Citizens of ancient empires offered their labor and produce to the imperial order out of fear of the superhuman powers whom the rulers represented. This scheme perpetuated the wealth of the powerful and the subjection of the peasants. The Israelites defined themselves as an alternative society, free of imperial powers and sustained by the “principles of social-economic policy” in the Mosaic covenant. The kingship developed as a provisional means of defending independence. Prophets arose to protest against subsequent kings, beginning a tradition that grew as Israel fell under the control of other empires again. Under the Romans and their client kings, a number of scribes and peasants led protests or revolts deeply rooted in prophetic traditions.

The last five chapters examine Jesus’ movement in this context. Jesus sought to renew the socio-economic practices of the Mosaic covenant in order to restore family and community relationships that were disintegrating under Roman oppression. Jesus’ message empowered the people with the hope that through solidarity they might meet one another’s needs. Jesus also engaged in direct political resistance by declaring God’s judgment against the temple and the high priests who were propped up by the Roman rulers. He posed a significant threat to the Roman order. He entered Jerusalem at a politically charged time in a politically evocative way to make a forcible demonstration in the temple itself. Jesus’ crucifixion was the decisive event for the eruption of active resistance by his followers.

Jesus and the Powers pulls together much of Horsley’s previous work and offers an excellent initiation to or summary of his perspective. His illumination of Jesus’ socio-political context is provocative and enriches one’s reading of Scripture. Horsley’s themes change little between volumes and those familiar with his work will find much overlap. He refers to his earlier writings often and rarely adds new insights to the more rehearsed parts of his arguments. Chapter five, on Jesus’ healings and exorcisms, does reflect more recent research, and his discussion of Jesus’ crucifixion is fresh.

Horsley clearly has an agenda in Jesus and the Powers that does not include an assessment of opposing views. At several points he relies heavily on other individual studies, especially political scientist James C. Scott’s analysis of peasant communities and Norman K. Gottwald’s history of Israel. He does not balance these perspectives with alternative proposals, instead focusing on the research that bolsters his own conclusions. He turns to medical anthropology and studies of spirit possession in modern Africa for comparisons to Jesus’ acts of power because “information on spirit possession in ancient Palestine is limited and fragmentary” (114). This peculiar turn seems suspect, as Horsley makes little use of what limited information does exist. Horsley argues persuasively for his thesis, but the evidence seems skewed in his favor at crucial points.

Most alarming is Horsley’s use of Scripture. For Horsley, the Gospels are primary sources for understanding the early Christian movement, but they are not the inspired Word of God. Therefore we need to “read between the lines” so that we may disregard later additions that buoyed the editors’ imperial agenda (44). The biblical authors exaggerate (106) and embellish (183), though sometimes they also “tone it down” (172). The earliest gospel sources (Mark and Q) are most reliable, but even these reflect only how Jesus was remembered by his followers (201). The passion narratives are the least historically reliable parts of Scripture (158). These assertions allow Horsley to mold Scripture to fit his historical reconstruction.

The strength of Horsley’s work is also its weakness. In many cases he reduces Jesus’ concerns to the socio-economic realm and removes any religious dimension to his teaching. For example, Horsley asserts, “Only people who have become rich by defrauding the poor are interested in ‘eternal life’ ” (143). Thus in Mark 10:29–30, Jesus referred only to the restoration that comes with covenantal economic relations. The final phrase about eternal life is a “throwaway line” or an “oh, by the way” (143). But in this Horsley oversimplifies the poor. People living in poverty show concern for life after death, as evidenced, for example, by their often elaborate funerary rites.

More troublesome is how Horsley minimizes the resurrection to give greater prominence to Jesus’ crucifixion. According to Horsley, the resurrection, “the most prominent theological construction of Christian origins . . . effectively reduces or even eliminates the historical (social-political) significance of Jesus’ crucifixion as a force in the dynamics of his movement” (194). He devalues the religious significance of the passion narratives to the point that belief in Jesus’ resurrection is unnecessary and even contrary to the rest of the gospel. Can Jesus’ life and ministry not have two foci? Could his actions have significance both for this age and for the age to come? Horsley himself insists that acts with political implications may also have religious significance. But he errs at the opposite extreme of his antagonists by rejecting the key religious event for fear of sacrificing political force.

Despite these criticisms, Jesus and the Powers still holds great value for the attention Horsley draws to an often overlooked dimension of Scripture. Horsley challenges us to consider carefully the political and economic ramifications of the gospel we preach. Ministers and missionaries of all kinds engage in Jesus’ mission of bringing renewal to communities. We ought to share the gospel in a way that is more conscious of its economic currents so that we can help others overcome the fatalism that often characterizes those trapped in poverty. We must shed light on the gospel’s political context so that we can give hope to those surrounded by oppressive governments and corrupt patron-client relationships. In so doing, we help lay the groundwork for the radical, alternative communities to which Christ called us.

Robert J. Meyer



Posted on

Review of Michael S. Wilder and Shane W. Parker, Transformission

Michael S. Wilder and Shane W. Parker. Transformission: Making Disciples Through Short-Term Missions. Nashville: B&H Academic, 2010. 247 pp. $19.99.

Transformission, by academics and former youth pastors Michael S. Wilder and Shane W. Parker, takes on the subject of how short-term missions (STM) can be used to develop disciples of Christ. Although there is no definitive length for STM, the authors narrowly define STM as trips of one to two weeks in length for the purposes of their book. The audience they have in mind are those people from a sending country—presumably the US in this case—who are involved in the process of planning and executing STM.

Commendably, the book’s focus is in many ways the practice of discipleship independent of its connection to STM. There is a lot of wisdom in the content on discipleship, much of which the authors connect only casually to STM. Wilder and Parker assert that God intended the Great Commission to include not only making disciples of people of all nations but also the transformation of the believing Christians who take the gospel message abroad. In light of this assertion, the authors challenge the misguided practice of sending ill-prepared young people to far-away lands in the name of making disciples while little thought is given to making disciples of those being sent. They expose the tendency to treat STM as the end when they should be seen as a contributing means to the greater task of disciple-making.

The authors are emphatic that STM are subordinate to the making of disciples and that if the local church is not serious about disciple-making, then it should reconsider sending people on STM. In making this point, they go so far as to state, “We see STM as having little value for long-term initiatives and intentions of the Church and kingdom unless they occur, primarily, as an element in the discipleship process of all who go” (173). While it may seem odd for proponents of STM to describe them as “having little value,” the quotation clearly demonstrates the primacy they place on discipleship. The authors also recognize the oft-heralded shortcomings of STM but counter that the problem lies in the traditional focus of STM. If the entities that commission STM would see making disciples—especially of those being sent—as the goal and adjust their preparation, execution, and expectations accordingly, then STM would yield more abundant and longer-lasting fruit for the kingdom.

The authors dedicate several chapters of their book to reporting historical precedence, academic research, and anecdotal evidence in the attempt to change the mind of those cynics who do not believe that STM have a place in serious long-term missions. While these chapters lay an interesting foundation for the rest of the book, they do not seem to have the weight of argument necessary to convince those who doubt the value of STM. The recounting of the history of student-led STM as carried out by the likes of the Wesley brothers, Hudson Taylor’s China Inland Mission, and others is unconvincing due to their abbreviated treatment. The encapsulated summaries do not tell enough of their stories, especially with respect to the results of their work, to sufficiently make the point. Similarly, while some of the academic research is compelling, in the end even the authors admit that the dearth of information and lack of consensus among researchers make it difficult to draw a convincing conclusion as to the efficacy of STM with respect to the development of disciples. As for the testimonies from former STM participants, their inclusion certainly makes for interesting reading, but few skeptics will be convinced by a handful of biased anecdotes from former student missionaries.

The authors devote a considerable portion of their book to the persuasion and instruction of those leaders (e.g., youth and campus ministers, parents of students) who already employ STM and those who may consider it in the future. The members of this group are in need of field-tested principles and practices which might convince them of STM’s potential role in discipleship and provide them a means for realizing it. Unfortunately, with regard to such content, the authors offer too little, too late. Only the latter chapters cover this subject and even then fall short in developing clear and concrete proposals that the reader could synthesize and apply to his or her context. On one hand, I sympathize with the authors’ disclaimer that they cannot prescribe “a [mission] trip in a box” (174) due to the complexity involved in considering the cultural specifics and diverse objectives that each mission point presents. Yet, it seems reasonable that most readers of a book whose title is Transformission: Making Disciples Through Short-Term Missions are going to expect a bit more how-to material than is given by two men who have the wealth of STM experience and education that Wilder and Parker have. Certainly the reader will not go away emptyhanded, but they still seem to have left room for developing more universal principles and practices without running the risk of handing the reader a cookie-cutter STM program.

As a whole, the section on STM apologetics is likely too light to convert many skeptics while the portion devoted to practical application may be lacking for those looking for STM best practices. As such, it runs the risk of not satisfying either audience. At the same time, this book may well serve to pique someone’s interest in STM’s potential for discipleship and serve as a primer on how best to pursue them in their context. If that is indeed the case for some readers of Transformission, then Wilder and Parker should consider their contribution successful.

Speaking personally, I can relate to the premise of Transformission, since I became a career missionary as a result of STM experiences while studying natural resource management at Texas A&M. Without those experiences, it is doubtful that I would have ever considered missions as a career. As a missionary on the field I have worked with a number of short-term student missionaries and interns and have seen some of them return to the field. In fact, I am currently assisting one former campaign participant and his teammates to settle in Chile, where they will begin their work as career missionaries. Of course, the majority of those who have come to Chile on STM have not returned, but many of them are more involved in mission ministries through their local churches than they would have been otherwise. In a fitting twist, a young married couple who spent 18 months on the field as interns under my supervision are now serving on the missions committee at my supporting church in Denver, Colorado, as my supervisors. Without this couple’s service on the field, which inspired a greater commitment to world missions, my family may have been forced to return to the US when we lost financial support in our tenth year. In my supervision of STM workers, I consistently tried to make sure they had a personally transforming experience by approximating as much as possible genuine missionary life while facilitating meaningful interactions with the local people and culture. Any results produced for the work on the field were always a secondary concern. The priority was given to who the volunteers would become through what they experienced. That reflects the premise of Transformission, and I am confident that the aforementioned results testify to the efficacy of that philosophy.

Hopefully more of those involved in planning trips and receiving groups will be awakened to STM’s potential in the critical area of disciple-making. The success of STM should no longer be measured by whether people had a good time and were kept sufficiently busy for ten days, whether they went home with a feeling of mission accomplished, however fleeting, or whether they returned with good stories to post on a social networking site. Surely the Great Commission, as envisioned by God, given by Jesus, and carried out with the help of the Holy Spirit, was meant to play a greater part in the transformation of lives and the expansion of the kingdom than that. Being made into disciples while making disciples of others is what Christians are to be about; everything we do should be a means to that end. With that in mind, Wilder and Parker ask the hard questions, Should we even be doing STM? and, if so, Should we be doing STM like we have always done? Perhaps Transformission will inspire us to ask the same of our STM plans and convict us to give honest answers.

Scott Emery


Santiago, Chile

Posted on

Review of Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God’s People

Christopher J. H. Wright. The Mission of God’s People: A Biblical Theology of the Church’s Mission. Biblical Theology for Life. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010. 287 pp. $29.99.

In The Mission of God’s People, Christopher Wright seeks to bring into focus two important questions for the people of God today: “Who are we” and “what are we here for?” From beginning to end Wright makes a strong biblical case that the mission of God’s people finds its roots long before the day of Pentecost in Acts 2. Wright believes that a theology of mission for the modern-day church must begin with the Scriptures the Apostles read: the Old Testament. Concerning modern-day mission theology, Wright believes that tragically, “there is often not only a profound ignorance of great vistas of biblical revelation, but even impatience with the prolonged effort that is needed to soak ourselves in these texts until our whole thinking and behavior are shaped by the story they tell. . . . The attitude of some is that all you need is the Great Commission and the power of the Holy Spirit. Bible teaching or biblical theology will only serve to delay you in the urgent task” (39).

A truly biblical theology of mission finds its genesis all the way back at creation and the subsequent call of Abraham. “In the call of Abraham God set in motion a historical dynamic that would ultimately not only deal with the problem of human sin but also heal the dividedness of the nations” (41). The first Great Commission, says Wright, was Abraham’s commission to “Go . . . [and] be a blessing . . . and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Gen 12:1–3). Wright shows from the Scriptures that when God entered into a covenant with Abraham, he had in view the rest of the nations as well. The church of Christ, therefore, is nothing less than the multi-national fulfillment of the hope of Israel—that all nations will be blessed through the people of Abraham.

The people of God are those who are sent to “be a blessing” (Gen 12:2) and not simply to share a message of blessing. “When God set about his great project of world redemption in the wake of Genesis 12, he chose to do so not by whisking individuals off up to heaven, but by calling into existence a community of blessing” (73). When the people of Israel became a great nation (numerically) in Egypt God delivered them from their oppression in order for them to fulfill the next part of Abraham’s Great Commission: to be a blessing. The law, then, can be seen as God’s method of separating his people from the rest. The law was not God’s way of saving Israel (they had already been saved out of Egypt before the law came) but rather God’s way of making the saved into a blessing to the nations. A nation that behaved in the same oppressive, immoral, and ungodly ways as the surrounding nations could never be called a blessing to the nations. More of the same did no one any good. If Israel was to be a blessing they would need to keep the requirements of the law. They would need to evolve to become distinct from the nations. Likewise, a divided, fighting, unjust, and money-hungry church has nothing of worth to say to a divided, fighting, unjust, and money-hungry world. Or, in the words of Wright, “a church that is bad news in such ways has no good news to share. Or at least, it has, but its words are drowned out by its life” (95).

This is perhaps Wright’s greatest contribution to a modern biblical understanding of the mission of God’s people: that there is no biblical mission without biblical ethics. It is not enough to go and teach the gospel of Jesus in our communities through gospel meetings or street preaching for example. Such teaching (and baptizing) must necessarily be followed by an equally diligent endeavor to “make disciples.” For many churches today, their greatest battle in being God’s Abrahamic community is not the hard or unreceptive soils of their surroundings. We cannot revert to easy finger-pointing at our communities to make us feel better about our church condition. No, the finger must be pointed to ourselves: the only people we really have control over. The exodus story must become a model of behavior for the people of God. “Israel [and the church today] must live out the same qualities that motivated YHWH to act as their divine goel [kinsman-redeemer, family guardian]. Part of the mission of God’s redeemed people is to reflect the character of their redeemer in the way they behave to others. And that means especially the chief requirements of any goel: costly compassion, commitment to justice, caring generosity, redemptively effective action” (106–7).

Wright also believes that the call to be a blessing has strong implications in the workplace and requires a strong biblical theology of work. Work is inherently good and absolutely a part of the mission of God’s people. We cannot be satisfied with a theology of work that believes the only noble work is the work of evangelism, for evangelism becomes mere chatter if it is not communicated by communities of people who live redemptively.

Wright comes at The Mission of God’s People from a clearly Evangelical-Christian worldview. As an example, Wright frequently draws applications relevant to Evangelical, western Christians and may unintentionally lose non-Evangelical readers. On a couple of occasions he surfaces the Church’s tendency to reduce Christianity to evangelism alone: “There was mission beyond evangelism . . .” (86) and “What is our goal? Where is our heart? Are we obsessed with making converts only . . . ?” (95). The Mission of God’s People could be better titled An Evangelical-Christian Understanding of The Mission of God’s People.

In another instance Wright draws out the modern church’s ethical failures: “A divided, split and fighting church has nothing to say or to give to a divided, broken and violent world. An immoral church has nothing to say to an immoral world. A church riddled with corruption, caste discrimination and other forms of social, ethnic, or gender oppression has nothing to say to the world where such things are rampant . . .” (94–95). Although strongly applicable to the subject of the mission of God’s people, the reader would do well to understand Wright’s intended audience: the modern, Evangelical, Western Christian.

Shaun Dutile

Spiritual Leader

Brunswick Church of Christ

North Brunswick, New Jersey, USA

Posted on

Review of Richard Stearns, The Hole in Our Gospel

Richard Stearns. The Hole in Our Gospel: What Does God Expect of Us? The Answer that Changed My Life and Might Just Change the World. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2009. 303 pp. $15.99.

Richard Stearns has accomplished something very significant with The Hole in Our Gospel. Stearns presides over the US division of the well-known Christian humanitarian organization, World Vision International. Out of his experiences before and after assuming that post, he writes a moving and challenging call to all who identify themselves as Christians to move beyond common reductionisms and embrace the whole gospel of the kingdom of God. Specifically, he challenges the spiritualized gospel that overlooks Jesus’ good news for the poor and oppressed regarding their actual life circumstances—and therefore overlooks the church’s responsibility as proclaimers of that holistic message.

In keeping with the intention to reach a very broad audience, the book is written on a popular level. Stearns compellingly weaves together autobiography, narrative, biblical commentary, and statistics, making for an enjoyable but gripping read. The personal touch of his own story of calling, resistance, and revelation exudes humility, conveying to the reader that he writes from a place of empathy rather than judgment. In this way, he is able to make the bold claim that the very gospel the reader may have heard or accepted might be an incomplete and therefore falsified version of Jesus’ message and claim on the would-be disciple. In fact, the answer to the overlong subtitle is, “God asks us for everything” (1)—a claim the affluent American Christian audience that Stearns targets could easily dismiss as hyperbole were it not for the finesse of his presentation.

The main idea of the book, then, is that the very essence of Christianity—the gospel—has been profoundly misunderstood by the majority of believers, in the Western world at least. This is, of course, a deeply theological claim that requires substantiation. Yet, it is a claim that the less accessible theological literature already widely confirms. Stearns admits he does not have theological training, though he evinces a familiarity with at least the contours of the corresponding academic discussion. In fact, the book fairly represents the emerging scholarly consensus on the holistic nature of Jesus’ kingdom message. The result is that the real contribution of the book is its ability to communicate more widely and effectively than other kinds of publications, which it accomplishes spectacularly.

Though there is a logical progression to the book, the sense of structure is minimized by the interjection of personal stories throughout, as well as the fact that some of the autobiography is not chronological. The movement begins with the problem (Part 1: The Hole in My Gospel—and Maybe Yours). It then brings the reader through a corrective (Part 2: The Hole Gets Deeper), an introduction to the need for the whole gospel (Part 3: A Hole in the World), and a look at the church’s common failure to respond (Part 4: A Hole in the Church). Finally, it ends with a challenge to practical action (Part 5: Repairing the Hole). It is a good introduction to the concerns of Christian charities and developmental organizations, from the core beliefs that motivate them to the challenges they face. Stearns’s portrayal of the struggle to bringing churches into substantial partnership may be particularly illuminating for readers from church traditions that have been historically reticent to allow parachurch organizations to do what ought to be the church’s work.

As someone who has become jaded about the emotional ploy of so many “sponsor a child” television commercials (of which World Vision has aired its share), I greatly appreciate the line that Stearns walks between guilt and motivation. In large part, the book’s emotionally convicting stories strike me as his personal testimony to the way that committed praxis has shaped his theology. That is a significant point by itself. The chapters on the “hole in the world” are especially well done, conveying the rather overwhelming statistical data in an understandable and humanized way, while at the same time managing sensitivity to the hopelessness that the information can instill. Another very helpful section is the brief discussion of the historical parting of the ways between liberals and conservatives over the social gospel. Stearns makes it clear that neither side came away with the whole gospel according to Jesus, helping some move beyond that dispute and conscientizing others to historical forces that shape their assumptions.

The author’s theological training aside, any book written for such a broad audience will inevitably oversimplify some things. With a view to the book’s purpose and style, that cannot be a criticism but must be an observation. This volume is a wonderful starting place for renewed reflection on the gospel, but the church cannot stop here. Notably, there is an overrealized eschatology evident in Stearns’s presentation. His rhetoric is probably justified, because the church is already so hesitant without mentioning the “not yet” aspect of God’s kingdom, but we must faithfully represent Jesus’ total message nonetheless.

There is also a Christendom mentality in the book, and Stearns actually refers to “Christendom” explicitly (216, 238). His vision for what could happen if all of Christendom were mobilized into generosity and service is a hopeful one, and an organization like World Vision cannot discriminate in its acceptance of donors and sponsors—nor should it. Yet, theologians in the late modern era have decried Christendom for good reason. Stearns needs to consider the implications of affirming Christendom on the basis of its economic potential, lest he sell out the whole gospel he intends to reclaim.

With these cautions registered, I heartily recommend the work as a vital and timely contribution. May the church ever return to a vision of the whole gospel!

Greg McKinzie


Arequipa, Peru

Visit to learn about the developmental ministry happening in Arequipa.

Posted on

What Is Good News to the Poor? (Cambodia)

While sitting with my neighbor, Chanthu, on her bamboo platform in the suburbs of Phnom Penh, Cambodia, we watched some local dogs picking scraps from a garbage pile. The dear woman quietly mentioned how she and her young sons would one day be such mangy animals as these. She reasoned that their poverty was a sign of their bad karma.

“Does this bother you, Chanthu?” I asked, shocked.

“It is what it is,” she replied, “the truth.”

“Are you afraid?” I whispered.

“Yes, but there is nothing for me to do. My sins are more than my merit,” Chanthu said, hopelessly.

“Is there no one to forgive your sins?” I asked, hoping to lead her deeper into discussion about Jesus.

“No one,” she stated with finality.

“Aren’t you afraid?” I could not help but ask.

“Yes. I am afraid of my boys being dogs. I am afraid that no one will feed my ghost in the waiting time between lives. I have much fear.”

Yet, Chanthu, resigned to her fear, looks to money as a solution to at least the most pressing problems. Her husband recently moved to Australia to work as a migrant fruit picker. Chanthu says she misses him, but she would miss the money he was sending more. The money, she knows, will not change her karma. At least some relative comfort can be found before her next life as a dog. As much as Chanthu desires wealth, surely better good news exists than a TV and cell phone!

Freedom from fear is found in Christ, and that is good news! We, as Christians, know and believe this truth. Chanthu, however, can only focus on alleviating her poverty in this life and leaves dealing with the terrible prospects of the next life until later. We know later is too late, and, while we are rejoicing in Chanthu’s new income, we fear it will only distract her from God’s good news to the poor. As disciples, we are called to share Christ with others. We should be fearless, knowing that the only way we can fail is by not sharing.

In my early years in Cambodia, I had a discussion similar to the one I recently had with Chanthu. Considering her words now, I wonder whether I fully understand or appreciate Christ’s good news myself:

“What if there were someone who could pay for all your sins?” I asked.

“Well,” the woman replied, “that would be just too amazing to believe.”

Too amazing? Almost.

Casey Allison, along with her husband Chris and their three children, serves as a missionary among the Khmer people of Cambodia. Visit the Cambodia Mission website at or Casey’s personal blog at

Posted on

Reflections on Poverty in Peru

The majority of people in Peru are Native Americans, and this group has more poor people than any other ethnic group in the country.

Peru has one of the highest rates of social inequality measured in terms of income, standard of living, and access to resources.  The nation’s unemployment and underemployment rates are high, including many people who work “independently” (that is, they are self-employed) and participate in an “informal economy.”  Thousands of these people eke out a living on a hand-to-mouth basis, pay no taxes, and have no social security, medical care, water, or electricity.  Most of these people live in the rapidly expanding barriadas, or shantytowns.1

The Peruvian poor suffer from political inequalities. In particular, the illiterate peasants are excluded from political decision-making processes. In spite of these things, the poor have entrepreneurial abilities to survive and emerge in the midst of the sorts of heartless capitalism or dictatorial socialism that have governed Peru. The social dynamics in Peru have been characterized by a relentless process of “invasion” from the rural areas to the cities. “These emerging popular sectors have demonstrated their ability to become social and economic actors without the tutorial paternalism of Marxist parties and their outdated theories.”2

Leaders, missionaries, and scholars among Churches of Christ should not only identify with such people but, like Jesus, become “poor” to help the poor, thereby offering an alternative to Marxism, capitalism, and other ideologies. This seems to be a task of impossible dimensions, but it is essential for reaching out to the Peruvian poor. Here, in identification with the poor, is the key that sociological, psychological, and political endeavors to help the poor often fail to grasp. Certainly, Christian modes of mission, from liberation theology to evangelical missiology, and even other political or economic ideologies, should be evaluated continually in light of Jesus’ way of doing missions.

My approach to this article is not based on academic analysis or any particular field of study among the social sciences. My approach is guided by practical and biblical concerns. I am an elected representative in one of the suburban communities that grew up from having no water or electricity—a town of poor people. I am in contact with neighbors who are alcoholics, elderly without social security or health care, and so on. Among my neighbors are poor people whose precarious situation challenges my faith and vision as a Christian. This article reflects my understanding of poverty and its possible solutions based on my experience, other experts’ input, and personal contact with the insights of the poor. My main thesis is that people of the gospel face a challenge in light of other secular/earthly ideologies, and with Jesus as our example we have the best alternatives to liberate the poor into the richness of God’s kingdom.

The God of the Bible and Poverty

The Gospel and the Poor

The gospel centers on the person and work of Jesus, whose main purpose is to save humankind, which even includes salvation or liberation from all kinds of poverty. The gospel includes the news of the transformation of our whole being (bio-psycho-socio-spiritual) in this age and the next. Beyond these essential dimensions, Scripture demonstrates a special emphasis on the gospel’s relation to poverty. For example:

  • In 2 Cor 8–9, Paul appeals for financial generosity on the basis of the gospel. In particular, 8:8 speaks of generosity to the poor as proof of a grace-changed heart. Then in 8:9, Paul points to the self-emptying of Jesus, vividly depicting him as becoming poor for us, both literally and spiritually, in the incarnation and the cross (the substitutionary atonement).
  • Matthew 25:34–46 teaches that people will be accepted or condemned by God depending on how they treat the poor. The heart’s attitude to Jesus is equivalent to the heart’s attitude to the poor, or vice versa.
  • Micah 6:8 requires that a man “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.”3 Care for the poor comes from a sincere love of God (1 John 3:17–19).
  • In James, works are the marks of saving faith: caring for widows and orphans (1:27), showing the poor respect (2:2–6), and meeting the needs of the poor for food and clothing (2:15–16). But those who close their hearts to the poor are mistaken (2:15–18). James concludes, “Judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful” (2:13). Mercy is strong concern for the poor.

These are some means by which I perceive the gospel in relation to the poor. The gospel is disseminated in the proclamation of what God has done and is doing, and the gospel message must be cast in cognitive truths to be believed and obeyed. Yet, it never remains cognitive but becomes incarnate through Christian praxis, particularly in our relationship toward the poor.

The Church and the Poor

The church reflects the social righteousness of the old covenant but with the greater vigor and power of the new. A special class of officers—deacons—is established to coordinate the church’s ministry of mercy. The first two sets of church leaders are word-leaders (apostles) and deed-leaders (the servants of Acts 6). By the time of Phil 1:1 and 1 Tim 3, officers oversee word-ministry (elders) and deed-ministry (deacons). The ministry of merciful deeds is a required, mandated work of the church just as is the ministry of the word.

In Jesus’ famous parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37), the ministry of mercy is carried out even outside the covenant community. In Luke 6:32–36, Jesus urges his disciples to do deed-ministry to the ungrateful and wicked because that is the pattern of the grace of God. In light of this, the church’s action might include, as Dan Martin suggests:

  1. Relief: direct aid to meet physical/material/social needs like food, medicines, etc. Relief programs alone can create dependency.
  2. Development: bringing a person to self-sufficiency. Development includes education, job creation, training, and reinvestment of social and financial capital.
  3. Reform: Social reform seeks to change social conditions and structures that aggravate or cause injustice: unfair wages, corrupt businesses, and legal systems that favor the rich.4

We will return to more concrete actions after discussing the nature of poverty in Peru.

Evangelism and the Poor

Evangelism must be given priority in the church’s ministry. While saving a lost soul and feeding a hungry stomach are both acts of love, one has an infinitely greater effect than the other. In 2 Cor 4:16–18, Paul speaks of the importance of strengthening the “inner man” even as the outer is aging and decaying. This is true, not because the so-called spiritual is more important than the so-called physical (we must be careful not to fall into a Greek-style dualism), but because the eternal is more important than the temporal.

In Jesus’ ministry, healing the sick and feeding the hungry were inseparable from evangelism (John 9:1–7, 35–41; Matt 11:1–6; cf. 1 John 3:17). Kingdom evangelism is holistic as it transmits by word and deed the promise of Christ for body and soul. Several times in Acts, Luke makes a very close connection between economic sharing of possessions with those in need and the multiplication of converts through the preaching of the Word (Acts 2:41, 44–45; 4:32–35). The resurrection shows us that God not only created both body and spirit but will also redeem both. The fullness of salvation that Jesus will bring will include liberation from all the effects of sin, spiritual and physical. Our evangelism should therefore reflect this truth.

Jesus and the Poor

The incarnate God identifies with the poor and becomes poor. “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matt 25:40). In Matt 25, God identifies with the poor symbolically, but in his incarnation and death, God identifies with the poor and marginal literally. Jesus was born poor. At his circumcision, Jesus’ family offered what was required of the poor (Luke 2:24). He said, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Matt 8:20). At the end of his life, he rode into Jerusalem on a borrowed donkey, spent his last evening in a borrowed room, and when he died, was laid in a borrowed tomb. They cast lots for his only possession, his robe; on the cross he was stripped of everything. This gives new meaning to the question: “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or naked or in prison?” The answer is—on the cross.

Understanding Poverty in Peru

All poverty is multidimensional. It encompasses economic issues (such as low income or unemployment), basic social services (education, health, sanitation, housing), cultural and subjective issues (such as discrimination, self-esteem), political dynamics (exclusion from decision-making, oppression), and, fundamentally, spiritual aspects (indifference to and ignorance of our eternal divine-human dimensions). These are best discussed in relation to three broad points of reference: spiritual aspects of poverty, the global economic system, and the role of national and local government.

Spiritual Aspects of Poverty

When considering poverty, it is necessary to avoid extremes of asceticism and materialism. Scripture teaches three principles: (1) wealth itself is not condemned, (2) people are condemned for the means by which their riches are obtained, and (3) the effects of wealth (for example, pride and selfishness) are most important. Inversely, Scripture also teaches:

  • The first cause of poverty is oppression, fraud, and the search for pleasure. Proverbs 28:3 is one passage among scores that recognizes the problem of oppression: “A ruler who oppresses the poor is like a driving rain that leaves no crops.”
  • The second cause is misfortune, persecution, or judgment (Eccl 5:13–14).
  • The third cause is laziness, neglect, or gluttony. Some are poor because of improper habits, apathy, or worthless pursuit (Prov 10:4).
  • The fourth cause is the culture of poverty. Prov 10:15 says, “The ruin of the poor is their poverty.” Poverty breeds poverty.

The Global Economic System

It is also important to recognize the global system as the context from which poverty stems, directly or indirectly. In this regard, here are some statistics that show us the unjust system in which we live. In 2000, Sarah Anderson and John Cavanagh published a report stating:

1.2 billion people (24 percent of the total world population) [live] in ‘’severe’’ poverty. . . . While the sales of the Top 200 [corporations] are the equivalent of 27.5 percent of world economic activity, they employ only 0.78 percent of the world’s workforce.

Between 1983 and 1999, the profits of the Top 200 firms grew 362.4 percent, while the number of people they employ grew by only 14.4 percent.

U.S. corporations dominate the Top 200, with 82 slots (41 percent of the total). Japanese firms are second, with only 41 slots.

Of the U.S. corporations on the list, 44 did not pay the full standard 35 percent federal corporate tax rate during the period 1996–1998. Seven of the firms actually paid less than zero in federal income taxes in 1998 (because of rebates). These include: Texaco, Chevron, PepsiCo, Enron, Worldcom, McKesson and the world’s biggest corporation, General Motors.5

Here is another diagnosis of our unjust world, last updated in September of 2010:

  • Almost half the world—over three billion people—live on less than $2.50 a day.
  • The GDP (Gross Domestic Product) of the 41 Heavily Indebted Poor Countries (567 million people) is less than the wealth of the world’s 7 richest people combined.
  • Nearly a billion people entered the 21st century unable to read a book or sign their names.
  • 51 percent of the world’s 100 hundred wealthiest bodies are corporations.
  • The wealthiest nation on Earth has the widest gap between rich and poor of any industrialized nation.
  • The poorer the country, the more likely it is that debt repayments are being extracted directly from people who neither contracted the loans nor received any of the money.
  • In 2005, the wealthiest 20% of the world accounted for 76.6% of total private consumption.
  • In 1960, the 20% of the world’s people in the richest countries had 30 times the income of the poorest 20%—in 1997, 74 times as much.
  • An analysis of long-term trends shows the distance between the richest and poorest countries was about:

    3 to 1 in 1820
    11 to 1 in 1913
    35 to 1 in 1950
    44 to 1 in 1973
    72 to 1 in 1992
  • For every $1 in aid a developing country receives, over $25 is spent on debt repayment.
  • The world’s low income countries (2.4 billion people) account for just 2.4% of world exports
  • The world’s billionaires—just 497 people (approximately 0.000008% of the world’s population)—were worth $3.5 trillion (over 7% of world GDP), [while] low income countries (2.4 billion people) accounted for just $1.6 trillion of GDP (3.3%)
  • Approximately 790 million people in the developing world are still chronically undernourished, almost two-thirds of whom reside in Asia and the Pacific.
  • A mere 12 percent of the world’s population uses 85 percent of its water, and these 12 percent do not live in the Third World.
  • The total wealth of the top 8.3 million people around the world “rose 8.2 percent to $30.8 trillion in 2004, giving them control of nearly a quarter of the world’s financial assets.”
  • In other words, about 0.13% of the world’s population controlled 25% of the world’s financial assets in 2004.6

Our developed nations spend more money on war than on education, health, or food. It is estimated that the total cost for the invasion and occupation of Iraq will be around $3 trillion.7 It would appear that the philosophy of Adam Smith is powerfully at work among the world’s economic powers today. He said centuries ago, “Civil government, so far as it is instituted for the security of property, is, in reality instituted for the defence of the rich against the poor, or of those who have some property against those who have none at all.”8

In order to understand the historical problem of poverty, we must take into account the global economic situation in which Peru is embedded—a very few obscenely rich people owning companies and corporations that have seized political power. Latin America, of which Peru is part, is the backyard of developed nations. As Eduardo Galeano states:

The international division of labor consists of some countries specializing in winning and others in losing. Our region of the world, today called Latin America, was precocious: it specialized in losing ever since the distant times at which the Europeans of the Renaissance rushed over the sea and sank their teeth into its throat. Centuries passed, and Latin America perfected its functions. This is no longer the realm of wonders, where reality defeated the fable, and imagination was humiliated by the trophies of the conquest, the deposits of gold and mountains of silver. But the region continues to work as a maid. It continues to exist to serve the needs of others, as a source and reserve of oil and iron, copper and meat, fruits and coffee, raw materials and foodstuffs destined for the rich countries that profit more from consuming than Latin America does from producing. The taxes the buyers charge [their customers] is much higher than the prices that the sellers receive; and in the end, as Covey T. Oliver, coordinator of the Alliance for Progress, declared in July 1968, “talking about fair prices today is a medieval concept. We are in the open season of the free market.”9

This pattern extends throughout the world through globalized free-market policies, unchecked by democratic principles.

John says that this world is governed by the evil one (1 John 5:19). It seems that the global economic system described briefly above is a reflection of John’s diagnosis. These “rulers and authorities,” as Paul would put it (Col 2:15; Eph 6:12), are a significant component of understanding poverty in countries like Peru.

The Government and the Poor

In this context of international webs of injustice, it is almost impossible to implement ideal laws in favor of the poor. Still, the whole society, particularly the government, should defend the poor and fight oppression by establishing laws and statutes that prohibit and punish injustice. Moreover, we need a welfare system to promote work and initiative rather than foster dependency, laziness, and poor work habits.

The Peruvian Constitution recognizes the human person as the supreme goal and specifies its duties and responsibilities. This approach involves recognizing that poverty violates rights. Poverty also means lack of skills, which is why government should implement enabling policies and more opportunities for development. In Peru, government does not adequately promote:

  1. A comprehensive approach that articulates economic objectives in relation to social ones.
  2. Participation in decision-making processes.
  3. Access to health services, education, and employment.
  4. Skill acquisition, supporting the generation of economic opportunities.
  5. Combined forms of representative democracy with means and mechanisms of participatory democracy.

Therefore, a specific and comprehensive platform should:

  1. Provide immediate and effective protection of children
  2. Make effective the Plan of Reparations to victims of political violence
  3. Implement measures in situations of serious health risks
  4. Raise the level of learning in logical-mathematical reasoning, integrated communications, and civic values
  5. Increase the minimum wage
  6. Promote employment for the youth linked to local development
  7. Eradicate family violence
  8. Stop pollution
  9. Strengthen public safety10

These are the challenges and tasks that require the participation of the whole society, including the Church of Christ.

An Attempt to Address Poverty

Today, our Western world can be proud of scientific and technological advancements, but it should be ashamed of being unable to gain any significant ground in the area of hunger and poverty. We live in a world where the gap between the rich and the poor continues to widen. Yet, governments seem to focus on issues of less importance.

Similarly, in our churches many ministries become so intent on poverty alleviation that evangelistic zeal is lost while others mistake “holistic” for comprehensive and fragment themselves by trying to run too many programs. Some see the poor as simply “in need of values” and descend into moralizing. Balance, wisdom, and a realistic approach are needed.

Reframing the Poverty Question

“How can the poor be made to prosper?” When a problem-focused approach is taken, which concentrates on analyzing why people are poor, it is clear that the causes of poverty are numerous, deep, and complex. This may lead to a search for someone to blame, framing the poor as innocent victims or valueless incompetents, or the generation of powerful but useless emotions such as outrage or hopelessness. The supposed “solution for poverty” for many has been aggressive and reactive legal action, mass protest, revolution, and even terrorism. However, these have not helped the poor to prosper. Attempts to deal with poverty need to be placed in a different framework. Although justice can be sought to some extent through reform, the ultimate solution will not be found in a politico-economical context without reference to the gospel. In Peru, for example, there are many cases of political reform movements spiraling from outrage into aggression, which subsequently engenders greater reaction and repression from the powerful. At the same time, the need for justice cannot be denied. Yet, justice must be sought from within a restoration of our divine image.

Assuming the transforming power of the gospel as a framework, there is wisdom in an emotionally controlled and highly professional approach that avoids the anger and the helplessness of reactive ones. It involves developing an initiative using the best possible people, resources, and legal avenues available at the local, regional, national, and international levels; non-govermental organizations; and sympathetic media outlets, for example. These can be an effective means to change laws and structures and seek mechanisms that will stop injustice.

Restoring the divine image, in which we are all created, also has to do with potentialities: How are the poor already finding ways to prosper? What are they already doing that is working for them? How can they do more of it? This approach takes advantage of their resourcefulness, acknowledges their informal economy, and empowers them by giving their current solutions some dignity. Then, moving forward: What else can be done to help them to prosper? How can business and economic opportunities be generated? How can employment outcomes be improved? How can they find access to cheap capital, training, resources, and markets?

Let us not forget that it is God who gave Israel the power to generate wealth (Deut 8:18). Better said, all people are created in the image of God, so we have the divine potential in our being to grow and be fruitful. Those who serve the poor can concentrate on empowering them as image-bearers while the injustices and larger issues are being addressed.

Also, in the kingdom of God, we are, as image-bearers, to be good stewards. In the end, “image” as divine representative and steward implies that the stewardship is conducted in a way consistent with God’s own character. In simple terms, the solution for poverty is money. Yet, it is not handouts or windfall cash that is needed but rather the ability to create wealth on a consistent basis with dignity and purpose within a righteous and just lifestyle. If a poor community is given the ability to make substantial wealth on a consistent basis, then very soon it will find ways to address poverty.

We must be careful of the “compassion only” motivation that leads to paternalism and patronizing and the “justice only” motivation that leads to great anger and rancor. We need balance and wisdom to avoid falling into political or philosophical reductionisms.

Practical Suggestions for the Church

First, in the area of capital investment, churches should develop a mercy fund to help those in need. Christians should distribute their own financial resources. Second, Christians should use their gifts and abilities to help those caught in the web of poverty. Doctors, educators, businesspeople, and others have much to offer. Third, Christian involvement can lead to spiritual conversion. Second Corinthians 5:17 says that we become new creatures in Jesus Christ, thereby restoring our marred divine image. Fourth, Christians can call people to responsibility. We are to rebuke laziness and poor habits (2 Thess 3:10). The church can help those addicted to alcohol or other drugs and help to heal broken families.

Keeping the Goal in Mind: Well-Being

Well-being in the Old Testament is signified by a group of words in the shlm family, such as shalom and shalem—meaning peace and wholeness (Isa 26:3; 48:22; 57:21). Shalom and wholeness flow from the blessing of God to those who fear him and abide in his commandments. It is in God’s blessing to the nation and city that individuals find their blessing.

Well-being comes from wisdom, diligence, well ordered relationships, appropriate personal boundaries, paying attention to the means of production, being cautious in expenditure, and righteous living, among other things. Our restored divine image manifests itself in a life characterized by shalom. Shalom includes spiritual, relational, and corporate aspects. The poor should both find riches in Christ through evangelism and discipleship and be given the power to make wealth. However, wealth is a secondary good, while Christlikeness and well-being are primary. Though issues of reform and empowerment are important, shalom should be the foundation to build true prosperity.


Capitalism and communism alike, when taken to extremes, have had disastrous consequences in Peru. Both ideologies, as with all economic ideologies, have negative side effects in regard to the poor.

Capitalism, on the one hand, raises the individual above the masses and stresses the importance of private property, free markets, and a democratic model for government. Heartless corporations thrive at the expense of millions of regular people. Laissez-faire capitalist countries, such as certain Latin American ones, are notoriously poor and overrun by corruption.

Communism, on the other hand, stresses the importance of collectivity, frowns upon private property, aims to control the world markets so as to better the lives of the whole, and sees socialism as the best model for government. There is no need to pretend that communism is any better for the poor than capitalism, because it has already failed miserably. Most of Eastern Europe was communist until the Berlin Wall fell. The fate of these countries under communism was widespread poverty and corruption. Many living in Latin American communist experiments would attest to a similar failure.

In Peru, it is clear that none of the politico-economical systems of the world can fully address poverty. Does the church of Christ have something unique to offer in the fight against poverty? Is the kingdom of God the solution? Is the gospel the alternative to the world’s answers? I believe so, but we know that the kingdom is not fully among us, which is why we cry out with John, “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev 22:20). In the meantime, the members of the church of Christ have a mission to join. With Jesus as our liberator, example, and master we endeavor to love and save the poor and all of humankind.

Abraham Olivera has completed the program at Sunset International Bible Institute and holds a BA in Bible from Lubbock Christian University. He is currently finishing a degree in psychology at the Universidad Nacional de San Agustin in Arequipa, Perú. He serves as the elected president of his urban community’s local political orgainzation and works as an evangelist and church planter. Contact him at

1 Christine Hunefeldt, A Brief History of Peru (San Diego, CA: Checkmark Books, 2004), xiv.

2 Emilio Antonio Núñez C. and William David Taylor, Crisis and Hope in Latin America: An Evangelical Perspective, rev. ed. (Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library, 1996), xii. Peru’s popular sectors were attracted to José Carlos Mariátegui’s dialectical and historical materialism. Mariátegui founded the Socialist Party of Peru in the late 1920s. Unfortunately, radical Marxist groups like Shining Path and the Túpac Amaru Revolutionary Movement, along with police and military repression, were responsible for the death of 26,829 people and economic losses exceeding 26 billion dollars in the decades of the 80s and 90s. See Peru’s Commission for Truth and Reconciliation, for information on those crimes. “Popular sectors” have made their own way socially and economically in the aftermath of these political experiments.

3 Scripture quotations are from the New International Version.

4 Rod Earnshaw and Dan Martin, “Renewal for a Broken Culture and Good News for the Poor?”

5 Sarah Anderson and John Cavanagh. “Top 200: The Rise of Corporate Global Power.” Institute for Policy Studies.

6 Anup Shah, “Poverty Facts and Stats,”

7 “The Three Trillion Dollar War: Nobel Laureate Joseph Stiglitz and Harvard Economist Linda Bilmes on the True Cost of the US Invasion and Occupation of Iraq,” Democracy Now,

8Adam Smith, An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, 2 vols. (London: W. Strahan and T. Cadell, 1776), book V, ch. I, pt. II, par. 12. You can read it on line at:

9 Eduardo Galeano, Las venas abiertas de America Latina (, 5; translation by Abraham Olivera and Greg McKinzie.

10 Mesa de Concertación Para la Lucha Contra la Pobreza, “Afrontar los desafíos que permitan superar la pobreza desde una estrategia integral,” Pobreza en el Perú,; translation by Abraham Olivera.

Posted on

Caring for Uganda’s Orphans: A Young Woman’s Journey of Faith

It is my sixteenth birthday, and I am eating sushi at my favorite restaurant with my parents when I tell them that I would like to explore the possibility of taking a year in between high school and college to do mission work. This is unheard of in my family, and they say they are not sure and will think about it. I am nervous, but somehow I know it is right. He changes their hearts.

I have just turned 18, and find an orphanage online. I beg my parents to let me visit over break, just three weeks. A month later I am on a plane. I am so excited. I am so scared of being alone, but I know He is going with me. I fall in love.

I graduate high school having made the commitment to teach kindergarten for a year at a school in The Middle of Nowhere, Uganda. In August I get on the plane. I’m apprehensive, and I cry most of the way because I miss my mommy and my boyfriend. I am eager, but so uncertain. I trust Him. I teach 138 children how to speak English and to love Jesus.

It is October and I am just not sure I can do it anymore. I live in the smallest room I have ever seen in the back of a pastor’s house. I am more uncomfortable than I had bargained for. No one understands—not people here, not people at home. I am tired. But I am prideful, and I am not going to quit. I don’t like this. But I know He has a plan. I learn. I grow. He is there.

It is December, and God has spoken very clearly about opening a ministry that sponsors 40 of the orphaned children in the village where I am working. This involves moving into a different house, alone. It is big, and I cannot imagine how God will fill it up. I am lonely and I am anxious. But I am still trusting. He fills the house, and we now have 150 children sponsored.

It is January and I am looking at a little girl, crushed under a brick wall with no one to care for her or her younger siblings. I offer to take the three home with me until we find them a better placement. I am not really sure what to do with them, but I know they are God’s children. They stay.

It is three days later and the littlest looks at me and calls me mommy. My heart might break in two. Something clicks. I am even more scared than I was the day I stepped on that plane, but I know. Today I have 13.

I have to deliver a baby, give a boy stitches, pull a tooth, and give an injection. I am petrified. But no one will do it if I do not. He is present. He holds my hand. They are all fine.

It is August, and I must get on a plane back to America to go to college, as I have promised my father. I do not remember how to be a teenager or what it is to be normal in Brentwood, Tennessee. I will have to leave my babies. I will have to make new friends. I am sad, and I am terrified. He wraps His arms around me. He puts just the right people in just the right places, and they help me, and they make me feel at home.

First semester is over, and He speaks clearly to me that I cannot serve two masters. “Go home,” He says, “and stay.” I am uncertain, but I want to be obedient. He squeezes tighter. I am thankful.

I have to look at my loving parents who have given me everything and tell them that I will not go to college right now, because I feel God wants me to be in Uganda. I know how disappointed and how angry they will be. I am more scared than I was when I got on the plane and more scared than I was when I took my first children. But I know that this is the plan. They love me anyway.

It is February and my daughter’s biological father comes to take her away. My heart breaks in half, and I am not sure I will ever be able to get out of my bed again, let alone foster another child. I am more than devastated, but I want what is best for her, what He wants for her. She comes back, and her biological father learns about Jesus.

It is March, and a lame little girl is brought to my gate. She is undoubtedly mine, but I am still anxious. What if I can’t do it? I don’t know what to do with a special needs child, especially as my thirteenth child. I am criticized and ridiculed. I wonder. I trust and praise God for her sweet little life. She starts to walk.

I find myself in a village full of starving people that for some reason seem to want to kill me. God says to serve them anyway. I am not sure how it is going to work, or if it is safe. I can’t figure it out, but I know He can. Twelve hundred Karamajongs, the poorest of Uganda’s poor, are now served hot meals daily.

We keep taking in more children until there are 400 in our program. There is no way we will raise enough funds, but by now I have stopped worrying. He has always provided. Blessings rain from the sky, and all 400 children go to school.

I am 20 years old, and I have 13 children and 400 more who all depend on me for their care, who are all learning to love Jesus and be responsible adults and looking up to me. The reality of it all can be a bit overwhelming at times. It is, however, always pure joy. There is a common misconception that I am courageous. I will be the first to tell you that this is not actually true. Most of the time, I am not brave. I just believe in a God who will use me even though I am not. Most mornings, before I even get out of bed I am overwhelmed with His goodness, with his plan for my life; I stand in awe of the fact that He could entrust me with so much. Most days, I don’t have much of a plan. I don’t always know where this is going. I can’t see the end of the road, but here is the great part: courage is not about knowing the path. It is about taking the first step. It is about Peter, getting out of the boat. I do not know my five year plan; even tomorrow will probably not go as I have planned. I am thrilled, and I am terrified, in a good way. So some call it courage, some call it foolish, I call it faith. I choose to get out of the boat. To take the next step. Sometimes I walk straight into His arms. More often, I get scared and look down and stumble. Sometimes I almost completely drown. And through it all, He never lets go of my hand.

[Adapted from the original blog post:]

Katie Davis is the founder of Amazima Ministries (, which serves the most vulnerable in Uganda through education, feeding, vocational outreach, discipleship, and medical care. Follow Katie on Facebook ( or Twitter (!/katieinuganda).

Posted on

Artistic Hermeneutics: Changing Perspectives on ‘Good News to the Poor’

Echoing the words of Isa 61, Jesus stood up in the synagogue in Nazareth to declare that the kingdom of God involved a proclamation of healing for those who were previously neglected (Luke 4:18–19). But as Jesus entered a world of sin, he did not exterminate the physical corruption that plagued the streets of Galilee. The physical reality of pain and poverty persisted then and still persists today. Christian artists have used the plight of the poor as an inspiration for ministry. Within this context, I offer two artistic presentations that illustrate changing views on this biblical theme and an implication for the Christian community.

Christian Artists and National Poverty

Especially in the past few centuries, artists have responded to the growing issue of poverty. One example, Adriaen van de Venne (1589–1662), a Baroque satirical artist, recognized the plight of Dutch peasants in the seventeenth century. He illustrated the moral struggle addressing poverty and wealth. William Hogarth (1697–1764) also created works that pointed to the separation of classes as well as religious leadership’s ignorance of rising levels of poverty. These two examples demonstrate that art served to awaken Christianity’s role in addressing the growing problem of poverty. In a way, these artists strived to reset the moral compass of the modernist impulse, which exhibited a disinterest in the concerns of the poor. This problem was particularly pressing for many Americans who believed that liberty from oppression was not simply a privilege of class, but a right for all. In the nineteenth century, Christians took the lead in using Scripture to advance numerous contemporary social causes such as temperance, education, poverty, and, most notably, the institution of slavery.

With the end of the Progressive Era and the rise of Christian Fundamentalism, most church leaders started to de-emphasize national social concerns.1 In the last several years, a resurgence of interest in social issues has once again fostered a response from Christians to the issues of education, environmental protection, poverty, war, and other national and international problems. Because of globalization, artists of film, music, poetry, and the visual arts have an unprecedented audience to communicate messages of change within religious contexts. Although Christian groups have long advocated concern for the less fortunate, globalization has brought these social issues closer to home.

Artistic Statement

I created the first work in 2003 for my solo senior art show at the Pinellas County Center for the Arts in St. Petersburg, Florida. Entitled “Slavery in a Free Society,” it first investigated the ironic reality of how the institution of slavery made it to the American context. Far more important to this show, however, was how the consequences and memory of African slavery in the nineteenth century impacts elements of contemporary society. This particular work focused on wage labor in America as a de facto product of the progress of modernity. I remember the day I saw the janitorial mops hanging on a fence to dry. The mops were lined in community, but a forced community. In the painting I sought to convey the coldness and isolation that came from this forced community.

Preston Cottrell. “Slavery in a Free Society.” 2003.

I created the next work in 2010 for the purpose of incorporating a new theological understanding of the topic, “Good News to the Poor.” Buildings of worship often symbolize a spatial divide between the “world” and places of worship. Even more than the first piece, the second is intended to narrate a mission. The shards of stained glass incorporated in the piece suggest a scene where a gavel, representing justice, breaks the glass. If a photograph showed a church building with broken windows, it would carry a negative connotation; it would suggest dilapidation, loneliness, and critique. Instead I wanted visually to convey a positive breaking of the windows where the pains of society become the pains of the church and the church truly becomes a light as Jesus was a light (John 8:12; Matt 5:16). Worldly justice often focuses on the fairness of the situation of poverty (i.e., whether it is a fair consequence due to lack of education, morals, and guidance). Biblical justice often focuses on the mercy of God. God is just because of his grace and mercy to those in need, not in spite of it. Mercy as justice provides a positive direction for the church as it serves to be a diaphanous space allowing vulnerability, acceptance, and truth to move through the fabric of society.

Preston Cottrell. “Good News to the Poor.” 2003.

I intended to allow the paintings to connect and dialogue through the use of materials, composition, and even the inclusion of found objects. These found objects form a connection between the allegorical symbols (the mops and stained glass) and the tangible elements that function in real life (the rags and the shards/gavel).

Personal Reflections

Although both of the pieces are intended to stand alone, the connection forged between the two speaks to the process of interpreting Scripture. “Good News to the Poor” evokes different meanings for different people depending on ethnic background, social standing, occupation, and context. Although an individual is unlikely to go through radical changes in these areas, individuals often change perspectives on these issues over time. Interpretation can change with time, education, experiences, and perspective. The same transformation takes place artistically. Since 2003, I have received two degrees and I have moved from rural Arkansas to urban Memphis to New England. Some concluding observations demonstrate the importance of integrating art and theology on both a personal and communal level for understanding and practicing the Christian mission to the poor. Reviewing the piece from 2003 in relationship to the one seven years later, I have noticed at least three personal ideological changes:

  1. In 2003, my viewpoint of poverty was predominantly secular in outlook and not theological. Poverty was a social distinction, not a contributing factor to the reciprocity of the gospel message.
  2. In 2003, poverty was an exclusively negative characteristic. But from a moral perspective, Jesus went to the poor because of the quality of their heart (e.g., Matt 5:22; 6:2–4, 24; 25:31–46; Luke 4:16–21, 6:20–24; 12:33; 14:12–14; 16:19–25).
  3. In 2003, the absence of color was a significant metaphor in communicating both the historical roots of American slavery and the sharp contrast between wealth/poverty and happiness/despair. The second work attempts to downplay the historical baggage of the American context and elevate the theological condition of the poor.

I have also noticed at least three communal benefits of reinterpreting this issue either through oral or visual transmission:

  1. Instead of ministers and artists discarding previous interpretations, the dialogue between the two can provide more insight than simple replacement. Art, whether verbal or visual, is a journey toward truth, not a complete and final destination.
  2. Using community, Christian art can address issues in a more holistic way rather than reinforcing the individualistic glorification found within secular art. Christian artists and theologians belong to a rich history, which has interpreted and expressed the themes of the Bible in new and creative ways. I interviewed other Christians who were familiar with the topic of “Good News to the Poor” to prepare for my own expression of the idea.
  3. Change will occur. Reinterpreting this theme is another reminder that even our collective theology is an imperfect analysis of truth. As a minister and an artist, reinterpretation within the community of faith provides a crucial avenue of growth that truly has transformative potential.

Preston Cottrell graduated from the Harding University Graduate School of Religion with a master’s degree in Historical Theology. He currently serves as Youth Minister at the Manchester Church of Christ in Manchester, New Hampshire. Contact him at Follow him on Twitter at!/PrestonCottrell or visit his blog at

1 Among other issues, George Marsden points to the rise of dispensational premillennialism as a major factor in this shift in priority. See George M. Marsden, Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 100–102.