The Justice Conference Speaks in a Universal Language – Huffington Post story

(Written by Cornelia Seigneur for The Huffington Post March 15, 2012)

 

At last month’s Justice Conference in Portland, Ore.,

Shane Claiborne, a Christian activist for nonviolence and service to the poor, shared a story of his outreach visit to Iraq during the war.

“We were having a birthday party for a 13-year-old girl when bombs started falling, and we thought we need to end this party, but another girl said ‘Our laughter is more powerful than bombs,’” Claiborne recalled. Later he said, “We need to be known for love.”

Claiborne was joined for his talk at the conference by Ben Cohen, co-founder of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream. Cohen was also against the war, and, though he and Claiborne may not share the same faith, they agree on their belief in nonviolence, which is a justice issue for them.

Said Cohen, “I got the same vision, but I ain’t got the preacher in me.”

He and Claiborne were two of dozens to speak on a variety of justice issues, from war to sex trafficking to poverty to gender equality to race issues. And, though the speakers and attendees hailed from diverse backgrounds, they agreed upon the universal theme of making the world more just.

The second annual Justice Conference drew 4,000 strong, quadrupling the number from last year’s inaugural event in Bend, Ore. And it’s going to the East Coast next year.

Ken Wytsma is the visionary behind the conference, holding last year’s event in the city where he lives and works. He has been teaching classes on justice at Kilns College-School of Theology for years, and he has preached on the topic of justice at Antioch Church, where he is the founding pastor.

But last year he wanted to dive into real life.

“I had a desire to look beyond the text book definition of justice, to actually practicing it,” Wytsma said.

He shared his vision with fellow pastors, teachers, theologians, professors and activists, who then joined him in a conference setting for communal dialogue on what it means to live a just life.

Wytsma’s 2011 Justice Conference convened 1,000 people, with attendees from dozens of countries. Something resonated with those who attended, and he decided to make it an annual event.

This year, the two-day Justice Conference brought people from 41 states and 20 countries. Besides Claiborne and Cohen, other recognized speakers included Miroslav Volf, founder and director of Yale Center for Faith and Culture and Henry B. Wright Professor of Theology, Yale University Divinity School; anti-sex trafficking advocate Rachel Lloyd; Michael Wear and Max Finberg with the White House Office of Faith-based and Neighborhood Partnerships; spoken word poet Micah Bournes; and John M. Perkins, whose brother was murdered in a racially divided 1950s Mississippi.

“I have long wished for this kind of gathering. Thank God that we have moved to this moment. God is raising up this post-racist generation,” said Perkins.

Stephan Bauman, the CEO and president of World Relief, the co-sponsor with Kilns College of the Justice Conference, believes this could not have happened five years ago.

“There is a tipping point and the information flow is instant. Women have been raped in the Congo for a long time and today we know that. I think this conference is a move of God. Justice is being de-politicized,” said Bauman.

Wytsma couldn’t be more pleased with the response, noting, “It is the right thing at the right time.”

So, why did 4,000 people come to this, a clearly Christian-faith-based conference on justice?

“Because they are courageous and not willing to turn their heads anymore,” Bauman said. And Lynn Hybels, who raises awareness of injustices in Latin America, Africa and the Middle East, thinks that the Justice Conference is resonating with so many because people are searching for depth.

“There is a realization that greed is not all that it is cracked up to be, and that self focus is kind of empty,” she said.

Chinese American author/activist/pastor Francis Chan echoed those words, targeting the older generation: “What are you doing buying all this stuff? Give it away.”

He quoted the Bible verse James 1:27: “This is true and undefiled religion, to take care of widows and orphans,” and offered an example of a 60-year-old couple in his church doing just that, by taking in foster care children.

“That makes sense, based on my reading of the Bible,” Chan said.

Other practical examples of people living out justice were offered, from large humanitarian efforts to neighborhood stories.

Rwandan Celestin Musekura, the founding president of African Leadership and Reconciliation Ministries, Inc., told the audience how he is transforming African communities; Bauman spoke of how World Relief has helped with community banking and small loans for disaster relief in the Congo since 2002; and Lloyd shared stories of girls rescued being trapped in sex trafficking.

Finberg shared how church members stepped forward to serve at a government-funded summer food program for kids: “Government just cannot do it all. We need everyday people and faith based groups have come forward.”

In a panel discussion led by Multnomah Biblical Seminary professor Paul Louis Metzger, Ph.D., John Canda said he is not waiting for government to make a dent in Portland’s gang problem, so he has rallied 100 men to show up weekly with him in a troubled area where youth hang out.

Steve Carter, pastor of Rock Harbor Fullerton Church in California, shared how church members are helping disadvantaged youth start businesses.

And Imago Dei Community Pastor Rick McKinley noted how one lady in his church created art programs for elementary students, one guy fixes things for people at no charge and another group is hosting barbecues for refugees at low-income apartment complexes.

“They don’t understand each other’s language but they are sharing these great meals,” McKinley said.

Food is always a justice issue, and justice does not need an interpreter.

“We are trying to speak the language of our culture addressing justice issues,” said conference founder Wytsma. “Justice is universal, meaning if you labor for justice people will care.”

Said Perkins, “This is a movement happening today. If you follow history, there were awakenings among church people. John Wesley and Wilberforce saw injustices. Concern for the poor came out of Moody Bible Institute. And, the YMCA came out of the church movement. It was there in the past, and now we are getting it back.”

“It is a new day,” said Perkins.

The third annual Justice Conference moves to the East Coast, and is scheduled for Feb. 22 and 23, 2013 in Philadelphia, Pa.

(Originally published March 15, 2012 HUFFINGTON POST- The Justice Conference)

Man-up at the Sunday March 11 John 17:23 Network

Pastor Cliff Chappell and St. Johns All Nations Church of God in Christ will host this month’s Sunday, March 11 John 17:23 Network,   The evening starts at 7 p.m.

The Church is located at  9486 N. Buchanan Avenue in Portland. The church phone number is  503-247-8337.

Cliff Chappell will be sharing his  vision for “Man-Up” and  how it will help with the ongoing gang violence issue in Portland.

Says Cliff,  “I believe domestic violence is what fuels many of our problems that we face in our society: addictions, incarceration, suicide especially murder-suicide, fatherlessness and gang-violence just to mention a few.  The vision for Man-Up is an attempt to get out in front of these societal problems instead of reacting to them, by addressing the internal hurts and traumas in the souls of persons and see them healed from the inside out.  So often we address the symptoms of the problem but not the root cause of the problem.  I believe the problems start with trouble in the souls such as loneliness, hurts, trauma, distorted love and the need to be loved and accepted.

This is where Man-Up will focus its work.  Gang members prey on young people with these internal struggles as a major part of their recruiting efforts.”

For questions on Man-Up email Cliff at  cchappell55@msn.com

St John\’s All Nation\’s Church

Gender Conference hosted by New Wine New Wine Skins

What does it mean to be a man? What does it mean to be a woman? Does it even matter? 

How do these questions bear upon topics such as how we work together in society at large and the church in ways that affirm and promote us in all that God has created us to be? It is so important to seek clarity with civility in pursuit of biblical unity, diversity, and honor in a culture where our beauty as God’s human creation is so often endangered by physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse.

These and other questions will be addressed in  New Wineskins’ Gender  Conference Saturday March 3 from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. at Multnomah Biblical Seminary,  8435 NE Glisan St. in Portland.

Topics  include gender roles, sex trafficking, pornography, gender non-conforming, masculinity, femininity, complementarianism, egalitarianism, the Trinity and gender, gender and social construction, headship, and ethnicity and gender.

For more info visit the New Wine Skin Website-

New Wineskins-Gender Conference

The People in the Blue House – By Ashley Larkin

(Originally published by Ashley Larkin at:   People in the Blue House – Ashley Larkin and photos courtesy Ashley Larkin)

For two and a half years the big blue rental house next door sat quiet.

Back in 2008, when angry late-night yelling moved out, so did the family that had lived there long before our family moved onto the block.

As it turns out, we knew the yelling far better than the people. Grandma barely gave a look our direction. The teenage girls knocked on the door every few months to borrow our phone when they were locked out. And though we tried making small talk about the weather and their latest jobs before they walked back onto the front porch, it was clear they barely trusted us.

One girl seemed to have a baby that was sometimes with her, sometimes not.

The grandmother and granddaughters left the neighborhood, and the on-again, off-again boyfriends that looked menacingly, lit things on fire and hollered cuss words did too.

So did the sorrow voices that wailed at night.  

It was quiet.

It made me feel sad.

I am still learning what community on this street means.

A few summers ago, I heard that being a good neighbor is partly about just showing up. Paying attention. Refraining from creating an agenda or a get-to-know-everybody-plan. Searching for what God is up to and joining there.

It felt true.

Soon after hearing this, we joined some neighbors to host a block party because the woman across the street (a long-time resident) wanted one last hurrah with the people on our street before she moved to Spain. We shared food. Kids swapped sidewalk chalk and bubbles.

During the party, and for another year after, the rental house on the corner sat quiet.

And then this past spring, the big blue house again filled with sound.

Clamored with unfamiliar words that rose and fell like music, utensils banging against the insides of metal pans, babies crying, drums beating, praise songs echoing from the shower and through the open windows.

The women wore brightly-patterned clothes and smiled. The men nodded respectfully. A young boy came to our backyard and helped us water our growing vegetables, played with our girls on the swing set. They were recent immigrants from the Congo and, just before coming to the United States through the sponsorship of a Portland church, lived in a refugee camp in Tanzania.

We brought them muffins, and they brought us a shiny purple bag filled with giant grapes, fried bread, sparkling cider and a note saying how thankful they were that God had given us to them as neighbors.

A month ago, the matriarch of the family — a woman with a broad smile and strong hands — walked door to door, delivering to the neighbors invitations to her daughter’s wedding.

The family was still barbecuing meat over bricks borrowed from our backyard when we headed to the Pentecostal church across town that looked like a converted bank. White tulle and red roses covered pew ends. Children ran between rows while we all waited for the service to begin.

We waited an hour and a half.

My girls and I took pictures on my phone and played in the church nursery. We talked to young kids.

A handsome African boy introduced himself to my daughters, then turned to me. ”Many people do not realize that being late is a part of the African culture,” the 10-year-old paused dramatically, as if to make sure I understood that this waiting was entirely normal. ”I have a good explanation for why it is difficult for me to make it to school on time.”

At 3:30 in the afternoon, our neighbors and the entire wedding party pulled up to the church in a long white limousine. The mother of the bride wore a cream colored suit that appeared to be second-hand. The young men from next door sported black tuxes with burgundy ties.

Women wearing head wraps and African dresses gathered close together.

Soon, accompanied by modern pop, the bride walked down the aisle to her groom — another recent immigrant to the United States.

The pastor’s sermon was translated into Lingala by a man next to him who held his son close.

When the bride promised to be faithful, to have and to hold, until death do they part, a small bell rang joyfully. When the groom promised the same, another bell rang.

When the pastor spoke of love and commitment, of the joy of marriage, the sanctuary filled with shouts of “Aye Yae-Yae-Yae-Yae-Yae!!”

Pulling out of the church parking lot, we waved to the mother-of-the-bride and her sister. Then, realizing we had not given the young couple their card with money enclosed for their new life together in Georgia, I circled the car around and headed back to our neighbor, standing uncomfortably in high heels.

“Could you give us a ride back to the house?” she asked in broken English.

Our neighbor sat with me up front, and her sister in the back seat next to my three-year-old. I asked their thoughts about the wedding, heard about their love of God and their journey to the United States. Told them how much we’ve loved living next door to their joyful family.

At times it was quiet, but for the sounds of the radio playing low in the background.

I let the women out in front of the big blue house and pulled around the corner. And I said a prayer, thanking God for the opportunity to share space with them and listen.

Share space. Listen. That is beginning to sound and feel more like community to me.

A Native Faith – Feature on Richard Twiss and his cross-cultural witness ~ Published in Christianity Today by Cornelia Seigneur

A Native Faith: Richard Twiss Shapes Portland's Youth

(Originally published in Christianity Today Feb. 16, 2012 – Written by Cornelia Seigneur- Christianity Today- Richard Twiss story by Cornelia Seigneur

When I went to hear Richard Twiss speak at a “Race Talks” event at a popular pub in Northeast Portland, I was struck by how he spoke of his faith.

“I am a follower of Jesus, though I would not call myself a Christian,” Twiss said. On several occasions, Twiss asked the audience to consider their own spiritual journeys. It was remarkable how naturally he turned the conversation to spirituality at a city-sponsored event.

“Native American people are in a unique position to talk about spiritual things while many evangelicals are not,” Twiss explained. “In this context in particular, they would likely be viewed as narrow-minded, religiously intolerant, and self-righteous.”

Twiss, 57, is a member of the Sicangu Lakota Oyate from the Rosebud Sioux Reservation in South Dakota. His mission, as co-founder and president of Wiconi International, is to foster understanding and reconciliation between Native American people and other sectors of Americans. After years of speaking to national and international audiences, Twiss is turning the focus of his passion for empowering those with diverse backgrounds to his hometown of Portland/Vancouver.

His journey from the Rosebud Reservation landed Twiss and his family in Silverton, Oregon, in 1962, when, in the third grade, he began learning to navigate between two worlds.

In 1972, Twiss returned to the reservation and participated in the takeover of the Bureau of Indian Affairs Office Building in Washington, D.C., with the American Indian Movement, who were protesting the government’s breaking of treaties. During this time, he told me, he started to hate white people and Christianity.

Later, as Twiss began searching spiritually, he dabbled in everything from Hinduism to Buddhism; and, in 1974, he was also presented with the Christian faith while living in Maui, Hawaii.

“I was a beach bum, did drugs, partied, slept on the beach, chased girls, lived off of food stamps, and started over the next day,” he explained.

One day while hitchhiking Twiss was picked up by two evangelicals who shared Christ with him.

“But I didn’t want anything to do with their ‘white man’s’ religion; I cussed them out and told them to let me out.”

Yet, in 1974, alone during a drug overdose in Hawaii, Twiss recalls the words of the Christians. “I yelled at the top of my lungs, ‘Jesus if you are real, would you forgive me, would you come into my life?’ I immediately felt the most peaceful that I have in my entire life.”

Since embracing Jesus, Twiss has been trying to figure out how to live out his faith as a Native American while inspiring others to do the same.

He moved to Alaska where he met his future wife, Katherine, and was ordained through his local church. After moving to Vancouver, Washington, in 1981, he pastored a community church there from 1982 to 1995.

In 1997 he and Katherine founded Wiconi International. With their message of reconciliation, community, and spirituality, Twiss has spoken internationally and nationally , including invitations from Focus on the Family, Campus Crusade for Christ and Promise Keepers. In addition, Twiss has offered diversity staff training for the Immigration and Naturalization Service and he’s spoken as part of auxiliary events at the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington, D.C.

“He has had an impact around the world,” said Randy Woodley, a Keetoowah Cherokee Indian and director of intercultural and indigenous studies at George Fox Evangelical Seminary in Portland. “Richard is known around indigenous people to challenge them to use their own culture to understand Christ and his kingdom.”

As Twiss has shifted his ministry locally in recent years, it is clear that it takes time to earn a place where one’s voice is heard.

For Twiss, it took significantly reducing his travel and speaking schedule to invest in Portland’s Native community, which he says numbers 38,000.

“Richard expressed a genuine desire to connect with the local Native American community and serve as a connector between individuals and organizations with interests in education, community development, service work, and all around wellness in our community,” said Donita S. Fry, Portland Youth and Elders Council Organizer within Portland’s Native American Youth and Family Center.

As part of his local work, Twiss is a board member of the NAYA Family Center and participates in the Portland Indian Leaders Roundtable, a group of executive directors or senior staff from the 28 Indian organizations located in Portland.

He’s presented an indigenous worldview framework for neighborhood planning for the mayoral staff of Portland, and regularly speaks at local higher education institutions both secular and Christian. He will also be speaking at the upcoming Justice Conference being held in Portland next week.

“The Portland-Vancouver area doesn’t realize what a rich gift this transition is for them,” said Woodley.

Twiss seeks to live out his Christian faith without compromising the protocols of his culture, and emboldens others to do the same.

“Along with many friends, we’re helping to inspire a cultural revitalization within a redemptive biblical framework,” says Twiss. “For the first time Native people could love themselves as Native people, whereas in the past the message was ‘God loves you, but He doesn’t like you. No more drumming music, no more powwows, no more ceremonial traditions of our culture.’”

Today, Twiss also chairs the North American Institute of Indigenous Theological Studies, providing education for the next generation of believers.

Adam Mury, a White Mountain Apache and Ph.D. student at Portland State University, said, “The fact that Richard is a Native who has earned an audience with a diverse group of listeners makes it that much more likely that future audiences will lend an ear to Native voices.”

Christians outside the Native American community have been inspired by Twiss as well. Jane Leong of Portland heard Twiss speak at a missions conference where he appeared in his full Lakota powwow regalia and braids.

“He spoke about how he was taught that God thought his culture was evil. He challenged people to not look at Native Americans stereotypically as just ‘drunks’ or people who need help, but instead as coheirs, co-laborers in God’s kingdom.”

Twiss and his friends led conference attendees for worship to the Creator with powwow drumming, singing, and dancing in full regalia.

“It brought me to tears,” said Leong. “I could picture the Native believers leading us in worship to God in the eternal kingdom.”

After that, Leong said, she began exploring her own Christian practices.

“Minority believers generally take a backseat in the wider Christian community,” she says, “so when Richard was featured in his full ‘Indianess’ as a Christian, it gave me great comfort …. My Chinese culture was not an afterthought of God.”

Twiss’s most recent project is creating The Salmon Nation internship, which launches this August, designed to train future spiritual leaders, business leaders, educators, politicians, and husbands and wives. The Twisses are purchasing a house in Portland near the Native American Youth and Family Center, from which they will serve the Native American community through existing programs.

Interns will volunteer in after-school programs for tutoring and sports, attend powwows, and spend time with native elders, church, government and business leaders.

Twiss said the internship will draw applicants from across the country but the focus of the program is serving the youth, particularly Native American youth, in Portland.

“We are talking about advancing education, culture, family and spirituality; ultimately, we are helping youth navigate the challenges of life successfully.”

Somber statistics for Native American youth is one of the driving motivations for The Salmon Nation, Twiss said.

“The [high school] graduation rate for Native Americans is one of the lowest in the nation, and we have among the highest numbers of kids in the foster-care system in Portland. We have huge economic disparities in Portland,” he said.

One of the projects that interns will undertake is developing an economic plan for the house.

“They have to have the skills to succeed in that world rather than feel victimized by it, so they will work with business leaders in the community in actually developing a business plan,” explained Twiss, noting that the details will largely depend upon the students.

Interns will also minister to the elderly, such as providing transportation for medical services.

“We want to serve the entire community, from youth to the elders, because that is how the community works,” Twiss said. “We want to ask the question, ‘How can a Christ-follower engage in loving conversation with those who differ religiously, culturally and ideologically?”

Richard has been able to energize that conversation, from Portland Oregon to Portland Maine, no matter the venue.

“Richard can speak with integrity as a follower of Christ, [even] in a bar,” said Woodley of his friend. “That’s the magic.”

Christianity Today- Richard Twiss story by Cornelia Seigneur

Cornelia Seigneur Website