Home at last

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Education

Twelve-year-old Nisha* didn’t have a family … she had been abandoned, abused, moved from one shelter to another. Because of her mild intellectual disability, hearing loss and speech impediment, other homes were unwilling to take her in. And that is when she came to Mukti.

Three years on, Nisha has learned to trust her house mother and special needs teacher and make this her home. She is keen to learn and in this last school year has progressed through three whole academic years.

Nisha has made many friends and enthusiastically participates in home prayer times and as many activities as she can. At children’s activities on Sundays she learns more about her best friend. She even volunteered to do the reading at our whole school community’s morning devotions one day. You see, Nisha loves her Lord and can read the Word for herself. She has a song of praise and gratitude on her lips to her Lord that she was rescued that day three years ago from roaming aimlessly by a temple in the market place and brought to a home where people love her and show her His love. And she is not letting her mild disability stop her from reaching her God-given potential.

The homes at which I have been serving these two and a half years currently house 600 displaced women and children, most of whom have been abandoned, left destitute or disowned by their families. Sadly, there is a social and religious stigma attached to having a family member with a disability or physical deformity, generally caused by fear of curses and the unknown.

One of my team members has been caring for her special needs family of 24 children for 14 years. Mary’s* love for God shines through her loving, gentle and caring manner. She has most of the girls helping each other, with older and more able ones looking out for the younger and less able. Before dinner, as in all of our homes each evening, the family meets together to sing, read and pray – it is beautiful to hear them sing and worship Him from the heart. Their disabilities aren’t going to stop them from singing a joyful song. When people ask me how these children know Him, I say that God speaks to the heart. These children love so much from the heart.

Praisey* came here in need of a home when she was only 11 years old. She has cerebral palsy and had never been to school before. However, her slurred speech and restricted movement did not deter her from completing secondary school, so that now, at 24 years of age, she is in the second year of college. She aims to eventually teach in our new special school and so use her gifts for God’s glory.

While helping the girls in their family by scribing and translating their sponsorship letters, Praisey helped me with the letter for a little blind and autistic girl who always has a song of praise to sing. She said to me, “You should write to her sponsor that Swati* always sings songs for her God only”. That is Praisey’s heart cry – it is for her Lord. She is an encourager, always looking for the good in others.

There are many beautiful stories of change in this place, where lives are being impacted and empowered to be a blessing to others. Those who have had so little physically have hearts overflowing with gratitude and giving. I get to the end of each day so blessed and grateful. There are challenges aplenty but His mercies are new every morning, great is His faithfulness.

Ingrid serves with Mukti Mission in India. She previously worked in the Philippines for five years, helping to establish schools on the rubbish dumps and slums. Ingrid is qualified and experienced in teaching children with learning difficulties and developing vocational skills programs and will lead the development of the Special Needs School.

*Names have been changed.

God is moving

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Hospitality, Other

I’ve heard many great tales of Christian heroes that begin with someone experiencing an amazing encounter with God or some deep spiritual revelation or a huge life-changing event …

Well, my story doesn’t.

All these things may have happened somehow along the way, but my story began in a leafy green suburb of comfortable Adelaide, motionless on my couch.

And there it stayed for years.

I was not on the move. In fact, my life had come to a veritable halt as I remained on that couch, planted as firmly as the trees outside my window. While they were watered by the rain, I was watered by my own tears of fear and frustration.

“Why?” I asked God, as I studied the ceiling and waited on yet another panic attack.

But God was moving.

If there was a rock bottom, I’d reached it. When I could no longer stay alone, my gracious sister dragged me along to an English class at the local community centre. There people from many cultures gathered to learn and make friends.

And God was moving.

I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I was so lonely I was ready to befriend anything that moved.

God was moving too.

I began to realize the students needed friends as much as I did, and I started to visit them in their homes. I was always welcome. And I learned a lot as we sat and talked and drank tea and ate homemade bread.

Many of my new friends had stories from staying in the detention centre. I’d heard of other people visiting there, but I was never going into one of those places. Not if I had to be locked up with the inmates and be supervised by guards.

But God was moving in me.

This must be why I somehow agreed to visit an Iranian asylum seeker in that big modern building in Adelaide. When the door had opened and closed behind me, I realised I was in the detention centre that I feared. Not that I had much time to worry about it – I was introduced to an Iranian man who requested prayer and to come to a bible study, so I was busy organising this with my minister. He was the first of many.

I went back again and again. One Iranian man had a vision which he feared greatly, of a man in white, so he spent the next day watching violent movies to force the vision from his mind. Though the man was trying to avoid Jesus, Jesus came again to him the following night. The man spoke secretly to me of what he saw in the vision and I showed him the story of Phillip and the Ethiopian eunuch from Acts 8 in an Iranian bible. Immediately the man realized it was Jesus whom he saw and he became a Jesus-follower.

What is amazing is that this story is not unusual. God was moving in these peoples’ lives. We saw many inmates come to the Lord. They came to us too, brought by bus with the guards to our church. Some of them had seen a man in white, others saw a great light, and all I had to do was follow God blindly, and work alongside the wonderful work that God was doing in people’s hearts.

Many of the people we spent time with followed Jesus in baptism, and still today some of them live in my neighbourhood. I try to be wherever God needs me to help my friends. Whether they know my God or not, I pray that they see His love in me, whether I’m helping them with practical things, chatting to them on the phone, or sharing our homes with them like family.

I don’t have much time to lie on my couch like I used to.

At one time I wondered if God had forgotten me but I was wrong. It was while I was on that couch that God was moving, preparing me for working alongside him in this new, exciting ministry that he had planned and I would never had dreamed of.

He’s still moving now. I wonder what will be next?!

This is the story of a CultureConnect worker based in Adelaide, told by a returned Interserve Partner who served in the Arab world.

Nurture and hospitality

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Hospitality, Other

In the 20 or so years we served overseas with Interserve, our family lived in three different countries. Each move involved planning, and adjustment to the new location, language, visa requirements and work roles.

This is nothing compared with what we’ve seen as we’ve worked with refugees in Australia over the past 10 years. As the voluntary coordinators to welcome and assist refugees from Burma to our church in Wollongong, we at first had very little idea what it might involve, but we understood their experiences had been extremely traumatic.

Our church already had a solid history of welcoming people from other nations. What started for us in 2007 as a group of three men from Burma’s Chin state has now grown into about 80 adults and 50 children, mostly from Kayah and Kayin states. Many had spent more than 20 years in refugee camps in Thailand, and many were Christians. They attend English-language services as well as their own-language services.

Take Bu*, who was born in a camp in Thailand and spent 15 years with his family there, waiting for re-location to a third country. No phone, no electricity, very few educational opportunities, and only basic healthcare. And for his parents, no way to do meaningful work.

Or Mami*. She and her 6-year-old daughter were transported out of Burma on a small boat, then by car, and on the way lost money given by poor relatives. Eventually, they were re-united with her husband who was eking out a living in Malaysia while waiting for United Nations permission to move to a final destination. That turned out to be Australia! But the stress still shows on her face.

Refugees in Australia are often struck by the relative peace, safety and order they see here, but some continue to move – they long to join relatives in different Australian cities, move interstate for work, or are forced to move when their rent is increased.

How on earth could we come alongside people with stories like these, and stand with them in appropriate ways? Even though we knew something about being foreigners and strangers, we were beginners in working with displaced people.

From the outset, we realised that it was important to raise awareness and to encourage our congregation members and new arrivals to get to know each other better. Because some NGOs in our area already assist re-settlers in material ways, we focussed on spiritual nurture and hospitality. Three of the easy English Bible studies we set up are still running after more than eight years. We also tried to involve the children and teenagers with our Sunday school and youth groups to keep the second generation engaged.

On the hospitality front, we’ve encouraged the Aussie congregation members to visit re-settlers and invite them to their homes to encourage friendships to develop. A list of tips helps the Aussies interact across cultures.

And what have we learned?

That ‘integration’ is a two-way street and both groups need to work at it, even when they are nervous at first. Much, but not all, of this is based on language issues.

That enlisting a small team is important. Aussie church members have helped in leading Bible studies, hospitality, form-filling, transport, furniture removal, and more.

God has graciously given work to increasing numbers of our friends, and they now have well-established networks of their own. Our greatest joy has been to see our friends grow in their knowledge of the Lord, spouses and other family members re-united after years of separation, and to attend Burmese weddings. Already they are making a very positive contribution to our church fellowship, and to our city.

Andrew and Muriel are CultureConnect team members.
*Names have been changed.

Mountains to beaches

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Other, Other

Drolma* tells her story to her new friend as they sit on the beach.

My story began in a place very different to here. My family lived on “the roof of the world”. They are extremely religious – even here, my parents are always muttering mantras as they finger their beads, and I’ve had to beg Mum not to walk down the street spinning her prayer wheel because it is so embarrassing. My uncle was a monk,– a really good monk. One problem, though, was that his monastery wasn’t allowed to have monks anymore. As if being an illegal monk wasn’t dangerous enough, one time he stood in his maroon robes on the town square and told everyone who would listen that he hoped that His Holiness could one day come back to lead our people. Of course, my uncle was arrested. It’s good that he didn’t set fire to himself – some monks do, you know, as a public way of showing despair.

My grandfather and dad were questioned at length. The truth is that they were sympathetic to my uncle’s cause, and they knew too much. My grandparents decided that they and my parents should flee.

After careful planning, including getting together as much cash as they could, my parents and grandparents slipped away. They were okay while hidden in the back of a truck that took them towards the border, but when faced with several days of walking at night over snowy mountain passes and hiding deep in the forest during the day, my grandparents turned back. Mum and Dad made it though, despite Mum’s growing belly. Mum says that the night they met their contact near the river bordering Nepal was both the highlight and the low point. They love their homeland, but fear for their own lives as well as hopes for the next generation propelled them on. After handing over a wad of money, they were each harnessed to a wire running across the river. It only took a few minutes to be pulled across the churning water below to freedom and exile both.

They made their way down to Kathmandu then on to North India where they registered at the centre for Tibetan refugees and waited … and waited … and waited. I was born a few months after they arrived, and my brother followed a couple of years later. As we grew older, we went to a school for refugee children where we learnt English. The day our parents heard that we would be given humanitarian visas by Australia they threw a party.

That’s how I come to live near this beach. My brother and I are sort of like Australian teens already, even though the Tibetan community here holds activities to help us remember what it means to be Tibetan. It’s hard for Mum and Dad. Even though they’re adults, they go to English classes every day. There are people who will help them find jobs when their English is good enough.

We’re safe and mostly happy here, but Mum still cries when people talk about our hero monk uncle. We don’t know what happened to him. We did hear that our grandparents made it back safely, but Mum and Dad don’t contact them because they are afraid it will only lead to trouble.

Thanks for listening to my story. I’m sure my parents won’t let me to go to youth group at your church, but it’s kind of you to ask. We’re Buddhist, of course, because we’re Tibetan. The lama says that it doesn’t matter what others believe though, so long as they are good people. Can we still be friends, even though I’m Buddhist and you’re Christian? That’d be awesome.

The author is a CultureConnect team member working with the Tibetan community in Australia.

* Drolma is a fictional character, but her story is based on those of many who have fled their homeland and been welcomed by Australia.

More information about Tibetans in Australia can be found at http://www.startts.org.au/media/Tibetan-Consultations-Report-2016-WEB-2.pdf (accessed 21 February 2017).

What is home

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Other

I have been thinking a lot about home: home here, home there …

Home is a place. We moved to a new house in June. It’s not quite home yet but it is becoming so. The boys love to entertain visitors with Cleopatra’s bath (2m x 3m plunge pool that goes with the sauna), and the fairy grotto (a small cave-like room covered with natural rock inside the house which contains the central heating and the toilet). Mark is laying down supplies of jam, pasta sauce and sweet chilli sauce (26 litres of sauce!), purchasing freezers and fixing cupboards. I am dreaming of photo frames, curtains (so the boys can sleep in in the mornings) and shoe racks.

But Ethan still cries over the tree and the trampoline from the backyard in Australia and, when he cries, we all cry.

Home is a place.

“For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” Hebrews 13:14

Home is people. We visited the town where we lived before. And as we drove up the starkly beautiful shore of the lake I knew I was home. The boys’ “Aunty Mila” was with us and, as we arrived, her mother hugged us and took us in for tea. For four days we went from person to person; hugged, laughed over, fed – coffee and chats in the morning with our closest friends, morning tea and lunch with workmates, unexpected midnight rice and meat with friends from the local fellowship. Home with the people we love and who love us.

“Why aren’t we living here?” asked Robbie. A good question that was hard to answer even to the boy who says his favourite thing in life is making new friends. Moving to new people is uncomfortable. And yet, as my new workmates tell me about God, it feels like a fresh breeze coming in my window.

Home is people.

“We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us.” 1 Thessalonians 2:8

Home is sacred. Two nights ago we all had disturbed sleep. The two little ones had bad dreams and crawled into bed with us, making sleep almost impossible for Mark. Robbie had insomnia at 3am and crept into the study to read. I dreamed of being bitten by a snake in the garden.

When I was a child I would crawl into my parent’s bedroom and fall asleep safe. I knew I was safe where they were. Now I am the parent. But, even so, the night can be a dark place in a strange house. Our safe place, our home is with Jesus.

Home is sacred.

“You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound. I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” Psalm 4:7–8

The author is an Interserve Partner serving in Asia. Names have been changed.

Reaching the scattered

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Other

Diaspora missions is fast becoming a buzzword among Christian missions around the world.

While it may sound new to many Christians, “diaspora” is in fact a very old phenomenon since the Old Testament times. This word originates from the Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible, meaning “dispersion or scattering” of the Jews after their captivity in Babylonia in the 5th century BC.

Fast forward to the modern times, the last century has witnessed an unprecedented spike in both international and internal migration largely due to globalization, technological advancement, natural disasters, regional conflicts, civil wars, oppression, and persecution. The effects of the current conflicts in the Middle East and elsewhere are even more pronounced, resulting in the human tidal waves of refugees and displaced people flooding across Europe, Africa, Middle East and Asia. As if history is repeating itself, the worst-hit refugee crisis area happens to be the very same area where the ancient Babylonian empire once existed.

Christian mission “fields” are thus being redefined in the process. Missions is no longer confined to going into fields that are abroad or elsewhere to reach the unreached. Thanks to people movements across the globe, many unreached peoples from overseas are now part of the diasporas right at our very doorsteps. Therefore, cross-cultural missions can now be done without going abroad. Missions has become “from everywhere to everywhere!”

Migrants, whether legal or illegal, economic or non-economic, voluntary or involuntary, are mostly made up of expatriate workers (professionals, skilled and unskilled labour), businesspeople, international students, asylum seekers and refugees. Professional expatriate workers, businesspeople, and international students are obviously most welcomed and desired by governments because of their financial contributions to the local economy through their expenditures and student fees. In recent years the number of undocumented migrants (including victims of war and persecution) have also increased, helped by porous borders with neighbouring countries, human trafficking syndicates and corruption.

What does this mean to the Church and the individual Christian? What are the implications? Clearly, it is an issue that cannot be ignored or taken for granted. The mission field is already right here at our very doorsteps!

The Church has a responsibility to love her neighbours as herself and proclaim the Good News in fulfilment of the Missio Dei. We are called to be compassionate and care for the “aliens” who are in our midst, especially the less fortunate. We are also called not to harbour any racial discrimination or religious prejudices that prevent us from demonstrating God’s love to them regardless of their status. Many are refugees, international students and migrant workers who could be struggling with loneliness, homesickness, financial woes, hopelessness, fears, trauma and uncertainties about their future. They probably just need a friend to talk to and someone who cares about them.

We truly want to see them gathered into the Kingdom of God. So we want to challenge you – will you pray for us and partner with us in our mission to share God’s message of love and salvation to them? Will you be Christ’s ambassador to them so that they will meet and encounter Christ through you?

Perhaps you would like to encounter Jesus Christ by personally meeting and serving these people. After all, Jesus himself was once a refugee too! He said, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matt 25:40).

Philip Chang is the Chair of Interserve Malaysia.

In a temporary place

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Other

In mid-2015, we responded to God's call to move to Nepal. With two young boys, we knew it wouldn't be easy; we prepared ourselves as best we could to face the challenges of settling into one of the least developed countries in the world. Little did we know, however, that an even greater challenge awaited us: the challenge of being on the move.

It took several months for us to adapt to our new life in Nepal: new language and culture, new house and community, new school for the kids, new workplace and expectations. Yet, despite shortages in electricity and gas and petrol, we were finding our feet. We were starting to thrive.

Then we got the news: to comply with changing visa requirements, we, with all the expats in our organisation, would have to leave the country. There was no certainty about when we could return, though it was hoped it could be within a few months.

A few months turned into many months, and we found ourselves making makeshift homes in two different countries while we waited.

Of the two places, we spent the most time in Malaysia. There, God provided for us in an extraordinary way, organising everything we needed to set up a temporary base. Yet, we longed to return to Nepal. We wanted to go back to the home we had set up, pursue the language we had worked so hard to acquire and continue the work we were excited about. Longing turned to aching turned to despair. Being in limbo was much harder than we could have anticipated.

It was also in Malaysia that we spent time with a refugee and migrant ministry serving the needs of asylum seekers and migrant workers. Speaking and sharing with some of these asylum seekers, we realised that there were common questions we all shared about our lives. We were all in a temporary place, wondering about our and our children’s futures.

The humbling difference was, however, that we had an irrevocable Australian passport. They had no safety net. There was no guarantee they would be accepted by any country and, therefore, no certainty of safe work or education for their children. Their limbo stretched so much longer and deeper than ours. And many of them did not know the restful arms of the Saviour or the hope of His promises.

Our sense of uncertainty – with its accompanying confusion, frustration and despair – was but a tiny glimpse into their experience. As these communities continued their agonising wait upon an increasingly begrudging world to accept them, we could see they were at great risk of mental health and social problems.

When it finally came time for us to return to Nepal, we left Malaysia still uncertain of our futures. We had been able to obtain only tourist visas, our work roles were unclear, our son would be starting in only a temporary school (his fourth in 18 months) – we had little idea what 2017 would bring. In our confusion and frustration, we continued to turn to the Father, looking to His sovereignty, victory and goodness.

Bidding farewell to our new asylum-seeker friends, we wondered and worried of the even greater uncertainties that awaited them. Could they be re-settled? Where? When? Would those still waiting for their interview with the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) be granted refugee status? Could those whose families had been split be reunited?

We are grateful for those we met who are committed to walking with migrants and work hard at supporting them through this trying and lengthy limbo. Our hope for them in this uncertain and changing world is that they would find some security and stability. More so, we hope they will take up that most valuable and precious citizenship – irrevocable – in the kingdom of the unchanging and victorious Father.

Grace and Huy served with Interserve in Nepal and Malaysia.
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FACT BOX
Refugees in Malaysia

There are no refugee camps in Malaysia. Instead, refugees live in cities and towns across Malaysia in low-cost flats or houses side by side local Malaysian homes. This presents a unique opportunity to come alongside refugees to offer practical, emotional and spiritual support.

Refugees have no access to legal employment, but are allowed to work in the informal sector. They tend to work in jobs that the local population does not wish to take (the 3D jobs: dirty, dangerous and difficult) and are at risk of exploitation.

Refugee children do not have access to formal education.

Refugees are able to access healthcare facilities in Malaysia, but the cost of treatment and refugees' irregular income make healthcare unaffordable to many.

Faith-based organisations play a vital role in caring for the practical, emotional and spiritual needs of refugees and migrants throughout Asia and the Arab world. There is a great need for personnel. Would you like to be involved in Malaysia or other areas? Visit interserve.org.au/serve

For information about refugees in Malaysia, visit www.unhcr.org.my

The God at the end of the line

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Hospitality

“Before the war”, Moussa* explains, “I had hope. I was in a good school, I had my family. Now, every day is bad. Every day is the same. We are just waiting for something to happen”.

We are standing in a tiny upper room in the old quarter of the city. Outside, the autumn air is crisp and tinged with the smell of burning coal as locals struggle to heat their homes ahead of the winter. In here, though, it’s mercifully warm. Moussa and I have found a patch of sunlight and we are cradling tiny glasses of tea as he tells me in broken English and local dialect about his old life in Iraq. He had been in high school in Mosul when the war had come – he had wanted to go on to university and study teaching. But as fighting intensified between local security forces and tribal militias, and, later, with the group calling itself “Islamic State”, Moussa’s family knew they had to go. Hidden in the back of a truck, they crossed borders until they arrived in our city in West Asia, hoping they might return in a month or two. That was four years ago.

Moussa is one of literally millions of people on the move out of Central Asia and the Middle East. Fleeing conflict and persecution, they have escaped by any means necessary and they are searching for new places of refuge. But we’ve learned that life as a refugee is as much about waiting at the pit stops as it is about moving along the highway. Our family recently moved to one such pit stop, in a country which hosts one of the largest single populations of refugees on the planet. Here, refugees must quickly learn the art of waiting. They queue for everything – for registration with the United Nations or the local government, for their weekly check-in with local police, for assistance at aid organisations. They sit before blank-faced civil servants and patiently, haltingly, retell their stories over and over as they make their claims for protection under international law. Moussa’s friend shows me a card for his next meeting with the local government ministry for refugee aid. The earliest appointment available was for mid-2019. “No-one cares”, he says. “You feel you are dead, that you aren’t human anymore”.

This life of despair and hope is nothing new to the people of God. They were brought out of Egypt (Deuteronomy 26:5–8), sat by the rivers in foreign lands and wept for what was lost (Psalm 137) and, later, became known as “exiles” and “sojourners” whose true home is not of this world (1 Peter 1:1, Revelation 21:1–4). Migration and movement, waiting and wandering, is one of the ways God is at work in the world. So a question we often ask ourselves is, “What is our Father doing, even in the misery of these waiting lines?”

Since we arrived four months ago, we have seen several of the tiny local churches reaching out to refugees in welcome and compassion. Working together, they make essential food and clothing available to thousands of families each month. The sheer scale of their need can be overwhelming, and there is always more that could be done – on our distribution days, the line of people winds through the neighbourhood’s narrow streets, often in bitter cold. But we try to treat refugees not as numbers in a system but as people, loved by God and travelling a long and difficult road. We create spaces for them to step out of the lines, to drink tea, to learn new skills, to talk. Some share their stories more deeply, with whispered prayers in Jesus’ name.

Back in that upper room, Moussa drops another cube of sugar into his glass of tea with a faraway look. “We’re just waiting”, he says again. “But what for, I don’t know”. With my limited language, I can’t say much in response. But I am happy to wait with people like Moussa, and as in that perpetual waiting, we hope for new and divine beginnings.

Joel* serves in West Asia.

*Names have been changed.

When Women Speak…

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Theology / Church, Other

Interserve worker Cathy explains why the voices of women are incredibly important in understanding Islam today – and introduces a
brand new forum for discussion.

When Women Speak… is a new network formed to encourage exploration of the place of women’s voices where Christians and Muslims meet. It exists because we believe it is time we heard the voices of Muslim women more clearly.

The network was launched last year with a colloquium in Melbourne, bringing together 28 women scholar practitioners from 16 nations,
including first and second generation followers of Jesus from a Muslim background. Our vision is that women who follow Islam are not veiled from the good news of Jesus Messiah, and that the message is communicated effectively to them.

This network is important because in Muslim culture women have a significant role in preserving and passing on faith to the next generation, yet approaches to mission are often gender-blind. Christian women scholars and practitioners have a unique ability to speak into the gap but they are surprisingly underrepresented in the development of mission strategies and missiologies, in publishing and teaching.

Space for learning
That’s why When Women Speak… network’s activities will include networking, academic and ministry research, publishing, mentoring, training and resource development.

One of these, the ‘Women’s I-view’ course, is presently bringing women practitioners together from Australia and Indonesia, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Afghanistan, Muscat, Egypt and Tunisia. The women, from Interserve and CMS Australia, are exploring topics through readings,
conversations with Muslim friends, and shared learning in a virtual classroom. One of the comments has been, ‘Now I have something
to talk to my friends about apart from babies, clothes and cooking!’

The When Women Speak… blog (whenwomenspeak.net/blog) is a fortnightly posting that explores a woman’s experience of Islam and the implications for the gospel. It provides a space for women to share their
learning, and so help shape the way we engage with our Muslim neighbours.

And the Vivienne Stacey Scholarship was launched as part of the network. Following Vivienne’s vision, the scholarship is committed to
providing resources and mentoring for women from countries where Islam is the major religion so that they can be equipped for ministry among their own people.

Collaboration at the heart
It’s all about collaboration. Collaborative research will explore how women who follow Jesus from Islam form community and are included in the family. Collaborative resource development is bringing together a group of women from Muslim backgrounds to explore discipleship needs and develop those resources. Collaborative training will bring women from different backgrounds together to share learning and make that learning available to the next generation. Mentoring is about investing in women so that women who live under Islam receive the message in ways that communicate the reality of God and his goodness.

When Women Speak… is the generating centre for practical acts of loving our Muslim friends. It will enable us to explore innovation in ministry to women living under Islam. There is vision for a conference that brings together Christian and Muslim women scholars to address issues of violence and women. Another part of the vision is for a major research project that brings Christian and Muslim women together to explore important social values that are shaping their lives.

Creating positive change
Muslim women are calling for change, and they are rewriting the discourse of Islam. Women of the mosque and piety movements within Islam want to live a life of faith, and gather to explore what faith looks like in their everyday lives. At the other end, radical women are calling for a fresh interpretation of the Qur’an that is shaped by the realities of our world. Women activists are pressing for change to address social issues that control and harm women’s lives, and Muslim women academics are addressing areas of challenge in faith, society and politics. Each of these is an opportunity for the gospel to engage with these changing discourses.

When Women Speak… is an innovative response to the opportunities in ministry with Muslim women today. Recognising that God is at work drawing women to himself, it challenges the contextual stereotyping of Muslim communities that says if we reach the men, we will reach the community. It says women are the keepers of tradition and among the greatest innovators in Islam today. It enables women who are passionate with love for their Muslim neighbour to explore ministry in a collaborative network.

Find out more about When Women Speak…, read the blog and discover resources at whenwomenspeak.net

Why faith and action

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Theology / Church, Other

Without faith, it is impossible to please the Lord (Hebrews 11:6). It is tempting to quote this verse alone. But the passage it comes from lists what the great characters of the Bible did with their faith. Faith and action weren’t just passing acquaintances, but their lifelong companions.

Faith compels action
Central to the Christian message is a personal belief in the claims of Jesus Christ. ButChristianity’s individualised faith also hides a trap within – it can disconnect us from the actions that should demonstrate it. Comforted by our own salvation, satisfied by token expressions of faith, and blessed by our relative wealth, putting our faith into action can be ignored or at least minimised. But every aspect of the gospel actually screams: Live it! Act on it! The Apostle Paul’s motivation is that Christ’s love compels him to no longer to live for himself but for Him who died for us all (2 Cor 5:14-15). The motivation is not a belligerent Biblical command but a heartfelt compulsion to share God’s love with the world. Our faith in the transforming power of the gospel compels us beyond belief into action.

Faith perfects action
Anyone can love and serve the needs of others. It’s part of what it means to be human. What makes the difference for us is our faith. Not only does our faith provide the motivation for action, it also informs and perfects how we do it. As Christians, we represent Christ in our service for others. Jesus is the one we look to, as Saviour and as exemplar. His life gives us a template for action, specifying our goals and testing our
motives. Running around trying to prove our faith to God or others only leads to frustration or failure. Instead, we measure our actions against the tenets and experience of our faith as exemplified by the life of Jesus.

Action inspires faith
Seeing God at work in our often inadequate attempts to serve is a great inspiration to our faith. Stepping out in faith, however tentatively, unleashes the opportunity of seeing God at work. Faith is no more than a theory in our lives before we do anything with it. Real faith puts us at risk. Real action is the only way to develop our faith.

We have much to learn from Christians in Asia and the Arab world whose faith in action can put their lives in danger. Sharing their journeys of faith stretches ours, giving us the privilege of learning from each other and together walking with Jesus amongst the poor and marginalised.

So, why not?
So what stops us from putting our faith into action? Is it lack of conviction that the gospel is really transformational? Sure, Christianity doesn’t have a monopoly on caring for others. Is it fear that our finances or safety will be threatened? Yes, they will be. Does social or family pressure to preserve certainty play a part? Of course. Faith by definition is a belief in the unknown, and that can be scary. Is it a lack of confidence in our abilities? Living and serving in a cross-cultural context is known to challenge our capacity, resilience and skills. So when all of these fears threaten to paralyse my action I look two ways. First, I look at the world; particularly those regions where unspeakable pain and suffering exist not just for a moment but as a way of life with no means
escape. I’ve lived there and am forever changed by these wonderful people. Then I look through the eyes of Jesus and imagine his response to their suffering as His call to me. I need to do something about God so loving the world. Following in the footsteps of Jesus is putting faith into action.

By Peter Smith, Returned Partner, Church & Community Engagement Director