This is an article taken from our website that we thought would be a good thing to share with our blog readers. It’s a really touching testimony from Chip Zimmer. 

I was 21 years old and a recent college graduate when I traveled outside North America for the first time. In August 1970 I flew to Nepal, where I would spend two years as a Peace Corps volunteer.

My introduction to Nepalese culture had begun two months earlier during training in Davis, California, but it wasn’t until we were on our final approach into Tribhuvan Airport that I appreciated how different Nepal was from anything I’d experienced before. There, outside my window and a few hundred feet below, stood Bodnath, one of the most famous Buddhist shrines in the Kathmandu valley. I couldn’t take my eyes off the domed temple, with its superstructure of painted eyes, prayer flags, and golden crown. This definitely was not Kansas.

I’ve often found that my most intense memories of a place are linked to sights, sounds, or smells. As vivid as these are, however, such physical stimuli can be misleading. They may tell me that a place is different, but it is not until I have been granted access into the lives of people who live there that I form an appreciation for a culture’s fundamental shape, and for how its values align with or are at odds with my own or with God’s.

My friend Ted Kober discovered this on his first visit to India several years ago. Ted had been invited by church leaders to teach peacemaking in the southern part of the country. After one of the presentations, a pastor raised his hand to ask a question that went something like this:

“The parents of a young man in my church arranged for the marriage of their son, but the son refused to cooperate. Instead, he married a woman of his own choosing. As a result, our church excommunicated both the young man and his parents. The parents repented for not being able to control the behavior of their son and asked to come back into the church, but our elders refuse to reinstate them.”

The pastor looked at Ted and asked, “What should I do?”

The question stopped Ted in his tracks. Here was a matter that went to the heart of the intersection between Christianity and Indian culture, and he, an outsider with little understanding of the intricacies of local customs, was expected to provide the answer. All eyes were on him. How would he respond?

I know how I might have responded. I would have been tempted to blast away at arranged marriages–in fact, at the entire caste system. I had struggled during my years in Nepal with the whole notion of caste and everything that went with it. What could be more unfair than a system that allocates opportunities in life based on family of birth? As a North American, I am saturated with the belief that individuals should be free to choose for themselves whom they marry and that opportunities in life should be based on what you know, not on who your parents are. The chance to take a good swing at a system I found abhorrent would have been hard to resist.

Yet, at the same time, I think I would have been restrained by years of wrestling with peacemaking and the implications of Scripture–something about getting the log out of my own eye first. Where in my own culture could I point to a functional caste system in which opportunity had more to do with birth than with ability? More to the point, hadn’t I found it convenient to show favoritism, or say to someone in need, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed”? In my own way, hadn’t I lived what amounted to a caste system approach to life? Didn’t I try to control others, to manipulate their decisions to get what I wanted? I have to admit that the answer to these questions is “yes.” As I reflect on my own shortcomings, I am amazed and grateful that Christ died even for these sins of mine. I hope that this realization would have tempered any remarks I might have made.

Beyond being wise in speech, however, I also hope I would have come to the conclusion Ted reached as he stood before his audience. Ted resisted the temptation to try to answer the question and instead pointed his listeners to the one source he was sure would help. “What does the Bible say?” he asked. “Let’s take a look at the Scriptures.”

The wonderful thing about Ted’s response is that he recognized a boundary and refused to cross it. It is not always easy to defer when cast in the role of “expert,” but Ted wisely realized that, in the end, it was not his opinion that mattered, but God’s. Scripture is the standard by which all cultures should be assessed. Ted’s answer affirmed this reality and pointed his listeners toward taking a biblical approach to life’s problems, the very thing he had been teaching in his peacemaking seminar.

I have thought a lot about Ted’s experience in the years since he told me his story. It has shaped my own approach to teaching generally and working cross culturally in particular and more than once has helped me stay out of trouble. Along the way, I have developed a deep appreciation for the words of David, as recorded in Psalm 19:7, “The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul. The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.”

I’m not 21 anymore, but I still love the thrill of visiting someplace new, of seeing new sites and meeting new people. I try to cherish every trip and every new friendship. But, I have also learned that the true measure of a place is not primarily what I see or hear or smell. The true measure of a place–whether it is your home or mine–is what lives in the hearts of its people and whether those hearts are inclined toward God.

Written by Chip Zimmer, Vice President of Global Ministries

By Chip Zimmer, VP of Global Ministries

Jaime Munoz was one of his country’s most wanted criminals. About a year ago, a program about Jaime appeared on national television. Soon after, a neighbor recognized him and called the police. Jaime was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to 10 years in prison.

Claudia Christen is a Swiss missionary who teaches peacemaking to prisoners, including Jaime. She wrote to tell us this story…

I got to know Jaime in September, just after the PM conference, at one of the male prisons in the southern part of the city. He appeared as a very eager, faithful and pleasant student to me, who attended each and every class.

About a month ago, we had our class on the 3rd “G,” talking about confrontation. I don’t know why, but I felt I needed to share a testimony of a friend, who himself had been in prison for many criminal acts and who today is an amazing man of God and is teaching the Young Peacemaker to thousands of kids. With this story of my friend, I tried to encourage Jaime and the other students to fully accept God’s forgiveness and to know that God can use them regardless of their past.

I realized that something was going on in Jaime’s group and went to ask what had happened. One of the other prisoners, Carlos, started to cry and said he was experiencing a conflict with Jaime. He said that Jaime meant more to him than his own family, but that Jaime sometimes joked in a way that was painful to him.

Jaime listened with tears in his eyes and said he never intended to hurt his friend. I said, “Jaime, do you realize that Carlos is telling you that God has used you in his life? That God is using you already as one of his instruments to reach out to others, not considering where you come from. God is transforming your life. What do you think it is God wants from you?”

Tears were rolling down Jaime’s face. He recognized that although he might not have seen it as a problem, he needed to confess and recognize Carlos’ feelings and pain and apply the 7 A’s. Carlos said he had never been able to confront Jaime, but that the class had shown him he needed to do it. So, we talked again about how to confront and offer forgiveness.

A week later, when we met for the next class, they came in with radiant, smiling faces. I asked if they could tell me how it went and they told it as a testimony in front of the whole class. Carlos had been able to confront Jaime in a loving, caring way, and forgive him, and Jaime did confess to Carlos and they reconciled, granting each other forgiveness.

Jaime is a living testimony of God’s transforming power. It is incredible to see him now and hear how God has transformed his life and is using him already as a pillar of faith for other prisoners. I’m sure that God wants to use this young man as his instrument. It won’t be easy as he still has many years of prison ahead of him, but if he keeps walking closely and intimately with God, God can use him in special ways.

“Is anything too hard for the Lord,” God asks of Abraham in Genesis 18:14. The same God who caused Sarah to bear a child in her old age also transforms the hearts of sinners like Jaime and Carlos … and you and me.

We love receiving stories of God’s peacemaking work. If you have a story you would like to share, please write us at testimonies@peacemaker.net. And I’d also like to note that the support and materials we can share with people like Claudia are only possible with the generous gifts of our financial partners. I encourage you to make a gift today to help continue this incredible work of reconciliation around the world.

by Chip Zimmer, VP of Global Ministry

At some point in our lives, most of us will have a Prodigal Son experience. For Ugandan President, Yoweri Museveni, that time came recently when he publicly repented of his sins and the sins of the nation he has led for more than 25 years.

The Ugandan daily New Vision reports on its website that President Museveni spoke at the National Jubilee Prayers in Namboole recently. You can read all of the President’s remarkable prayer by clicking here. Some excerpts follow…

I stand here today to close the evil past and especially in the last 50 years of our national leadership history and at the threshold of a new dispensation in the life of this nation. I stand here on my own behalf and on behalf of my predecessors to repent. We ask your forgiveness…

Forgive us sins of pride, tribalism and sectarianism; sins of laziness, indifference and irresponsibility; sins of corruption and bribery that have eroded our national resources; sins of sexual immorality, drunkenness and debauchery; sins of unforgiveness, bitterness, hatred and revenge, sins of injustice, oppression and exploitation; sins of rebellion, insubordination, strife and conflict.

These sins and many others have characterized our past leadership, especially the last 50 years of our history. Lord forgive us and give us a new beginning. Give us a heart to love you, to fear you and to seek you. Take away from us all the above sins…”

And toward the close…

We want to dedicate this nation to you so that you will be our God and guide. We want Uganda to be known as a nation that fears God and as a nation whose foundations are firmly rooted in righteousness and justice to fulfill what the Bible says in Psalm 33: 12: Blessed is the nation, whose God is the Lord. A people you have chosen as your own.”

We can join President Museveni and the people of Uganda in making his prayer our own, not only for Uganda, but for every land, including ours, that has strayed from the Lord. The hard work of repentance remains to be done, as one Ugandan church leader noted. Yet, all of us can thank God for the awakening he has brought to the President and for the example he has set for leaders everywhere.

There’s a very inspirational post by Mark Fox over at TakeYourVitaminZ. You should go and read the whole thing, but I’ve included the into here:

When Stakwell Yurenimo, a Samburu in northern Kenya, did well on his eighthgrade exams, the Kenyan government informed him that he had qualified to go to a high school that they would choose. They also chose his roommate, a young man named Paul, who was a member of the enemy tribe, the Turkana. Stakwell determined in his mind that there was no way he would room with a Turkana. In fact, part of his culture demanded that in order to be respected as a man, he needed to kill a Turkana.

Stakwell poured water on Paul’s bed every night, so that his roommate was forced to sleep somewhere else. Paul did not react in anger, but slept on the ground without complaint. This went on for several months. Meanwhile, there was friction on the soccer field as well. Stakwell was an excellent midfielder. Paul was the team’s star forward, a striker with considerable skill. But the team kept losing because Stakwell would not pass the ball to his roommate. The coach finally confronted Stakwell, who told the coach that there was nothing he could do. “You will just have to put one of us on another team,” he said. That’s what the coach did, and the first time the two teams played each other, Stakwell threw himself into Paul, trying his best to kill him. He broke Paul’s leg and knocked out several teeth. Because it was an intentional penalty, Stakwell was expelled from school and sent home a hero to his fellow Samburu tribesmen for injuring a hated Turkana. He did not care about being expelled, but then the school told Stakwell that he would have to repay Paul for all of his medical expenses. Stakwell, a Samburu shepherd, faced an insurmountable debt. That’s when his life changed.

Paul came to Stakwell offering forgiveness. He did not want to be paid back. Paul explained that all the time his roommate was persecuting him, he did not retaliate, “not because I am weak, but because I am a Christian. When you were pouring water on my bed and forcing me to sleep on the ground, I was praying for you,” Paul said.

Read the rest. 

Two weeks ago I stood on a hill in northern Israel that grew through the destructive power of human hands over the course of 4,000 years. The hill is actually a “tell”—an Arabic word for an archeological mound created by repeated human occupation and abandonment of a geographical site over many centuries.

This particular tell is named Abel Beth Ma’acah, a biblical site that stands at the northern tip of Israel, about a mile from the security fences dividing Israel from Lebanon. I was invited to visit the tell with friends from Azusa Pacific University, which has recently been given the honor of partnering with the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in developing this unique archeological site.

Pottery fragments indicate that the site was occupied by Canaanites in the Early Bronze Age (~2600 B.C.). Abraham may have walked past the city walls around 2090 B.C. (Gen. 12:5). Joab besieged the city around 1000 B.C. to quash a rebellion against King David (2 Sam. 20). And the Lord Jesus walked nearby when he traveled to Caesarea Philippi a thousand years later (Matt. 16:13).

Each of them saw a different city as they passed by. Situated at the foot of a mountain pass, Abel Beth Ma’acah controlled the most important highway in the region and thus served as the gateway into northern Israel. Because of its strategic position, the city was successively conquered, destroyed, and rebuilt by armies from Aram, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Israel, and Egypt (see, for example, 1 Kings 15:20 and 2 Kings 15:29).

After one city was destroyed, the next one was built on its ruins, with the rubble adding a few feet of elevation to each successive level of occupation. Today the 35-acre tell stands 80 feet above the surrounding fields. The only remaining structures on the mound are concrete bunkers built by the Israeli Defense Forces after they evicted the last occupants of the hill, people in a small Palestinian village, during the 1948 War.

As I stood on top of Abel Beth Ma’acah and imagined how twenty cities were built, demolished, and rebuilt on the same site, I realized how often I’ve seen the same dynamic play itself out within many of the families, churches, and businesses I’ve served over the years.

We all build relationships, enjoy their comfort and safety, and imagine them to be secure … and then suddenly conflict strikes. Our desires clash with those of others, our dreams and agendas diverge, or trust is overthrown by betrayal. Our lives are demolished by broken relationships, divorces, church splits, and lawsuits.

After the pain subsides and our loneliness overrides our fear of being hurt again, we usually seek new relationships. We look for a new friend, spouse, church, or business partner.

But all too often, we attempt to build on the ruins of the past. We fail to clear away the rubble of our relational failures by confessing our wrongs, learning from our mistakes, and truly forgiving others. Instead, we stuff these unpleasant dynamics underground and set out to construct new relationships, naively hoping they will be more secure than those of the past. A second marriage, a third business partner, a fourth church … the cycle goes on and on.

The gospel shows us that there is a better way. When this world lay in complete relational ruins, with every person rebelling against God and constantly warring with his neighbor, Jesus came to bring peace and rebuild everything on a new, clean, and unshakable foundation. He didn’t stand on the rubble of the past; he swept it away by the cleansing power of his blood. He paid for our sins, granted us forgiveness, and gave us the building blocks for more durable relationships: “compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience” (Col. 3:12).

So the next time a relationship seems to be lying in ruins at your feet, claim the promise that in Christ you are a new creation; that the old has gone and the new has come; that you are called and empowered to be a reconciler and rebuilder (2 Cor. 5:17-21). Embrace repentance, confession, and forgiveness and turn what seems to be unsalvageable rubble into a testimony to God’s redeeming and restoring grace. (To enhance your ability to practice these skills, please join us at our annual Peacemaker Conference in September—the central theme is Life Together.)

And as you think of it, please pray for my friends from Azusa Pacific as they seek to fulfill God’s agenda for unfolding the story of Abel Beth Ma’acah. That story is not only of the past, of archeology, superseding civilizations, toppled stone walls, and shattered pottery, but also of living people, their future, and eternal life.
It is the story of an old man in a nearby village, the only living person who can share memories of life in the last village on the hill. It is the story of Israeli and Palestinian children living nearby, who could be recruited to partner in the excavations and learn to work and live together. It is the story of Israeli soldiers who may join in the project and deepen their commitment to preserve peace and stability in their country.

It is the story of the archeologists, students, and visitors from Azusa Pacific and Hebrew University who will work side by side in the years ahead, unearthing ancient artifacts and discussing eternal truths … especially those that revolve around the cornerstone of all history and life, our Lord Jesus Christ.

Warmly in Christ,

Ken

Part 2 of a trip report from Chip Zimmer, VP of Global Ministry for Peacemaker Ministries

(If you missed part 1 of Chip’s report, you may read it here.)

The rest of the training time was focused on Conflict Coaching—the skill of helping one side of a conflict respond to the situation in a way that honors God. Each session featured a basic concept, such as how to listen well, gently ask probing questions, or structure a negotiation so that it builds on everyone’s interests. I presented the concept, then Farag and I role played its use. The session concluded with participants practicing what they had learned.

We wanted to make our role play realistic and compelling, so Farag and I designed a scenario that included themes of corruption, revenge, and using professional friendships to advance private agendas. Here’s a synopsis:

Hanif, Farag’s character, works at the denominational headquarters of the fictional Christian Church, where he oversees all of the church’s outreach ministries, including a health clinic run by Anwar.

One day, Anwar fires his accountant at the Clinic, a young man named Tariq, after Tariq realizes that Anwar has been overpaying for the vitamins and minerals he buys from a company called VitaHealth. VitaHealth is owned by Anwar’s brother in law.

After he’s fired, Tariq complains to Hanif, who must now investigate. But, it turns out that Hanif has a grudge against Anwar, since on several occasions Anwar has gone over Hanif’s head to the denominational CEO, a friend of Anwar’s, to get approval for something that Hanif had denied. Hanif, embarrassed by Anwar’s circumnavigation, has vowed revenge, just waiting for the right opportunity.

So, by the time Hanif meets with his Conflict Coach, all Hanif wants to do is nail Anwar. There is just one thing he had not anticipated – his Coach wants to slow him down and help him reflect biblically on the situation and on what God would have him do.

I was to play the role of Hanif’s Coach. As an American cast in this Egyptian drama, I was way over my head. But, Farag and I talked things through before each session, plotting in advance how to structure our conversation to make it real.

Our first big teaching session was all about how to listen to someone’s story. Farag, as Hanif, told me about all of the horrible things that Anwar had done, while I did my best to model empathetic listening. By the time Farag finished, the entire class was convinced that Anwar deserved serious jail time. But, we were peacemaking veterans by now, so we knew the story couldn’t end there. It was time for me to ask some questions.

“How well do you know Tariq?” I asked.

“The first time I met him was the day he came to my office,” Hanif replied.

“Do you know whether he is trustworthy?  How can you be sure that what he told you is true?” I asked.  Farag hesitated.  I pushed harder.  “Have you checked on prices yourself, or are you just relying on what Tariq told you?” I asked.  I was glad that I’d written such a wise and insightful role for the Coach.  I am seldom this good in real life.

Farag gave me a pained look.  “Well…” he said, his voice drifting off.  As Hanif, he was doing a wonderful job of coming to grips with his desire for revenge, his longing that Anwar suffer the same humiliation he’d experienced at Anwar’s hands.

Little by little, over the remaining teaching sessions yesterday and today, I asked questions and shared passages from Scripture that helped probe deeply into his heart and his motives.  The message was powerful.  We concluded with a plan of action.  Farag’s character, Hanif, decided he needed first to try to reconcile his personal differences with Anwar before determining how best to handle Tariq’s complaint.

After lunch today, the participants tried coaching for themselves, using role plays Farag and I had created for them.  They discovered that coaching was easier than they had feared, but harder than it looks.  Some of them were reminded, when the person they coached showed a stubborn streak, that things don’t always work out.  Real life is messy and real people are hard to control.  This is where God enters the scene, that mysterious yet very present part of every coaching session, transforming hearts in ways we could not have foreseen.

We had a small graduation ceremony at the end and I helped by handing participants their Certificates of Completion.  Watching them coach for the first time had been humbling and it had been a joy.  I admire them greatly.  Egypt today is unsettled and each of them lives with great uncertainty.  The time may come, perhaps soon, when they will be called on to be coaches and peacemakers in earnest.

Reflecting on the Trip

My last afternoon I went for a walk around Zamalek.  The Anglican Church has been active in Egypt since 1815, but Christian presence in the country is much older than that.  According to tradition, the Patriarchate of Alexandria was founded by Mark in 33 AD, although little evidence exists.  By 200 AD, however, the city had become one of the main centers of Christianity.  Both Clement and Origen counted Alexandria as home.

Part 1 of a trip report from Chip Zimmer, VP of Global Ministries for Peacemaker Ministries
“There is no tradition in our culture of going to someone to speak the truth in love,” Bishop Mouneer Anis, the head of the Anglican Church in Egypt, North Africa and the Horn of Africa, told me recently as I sat in his Cairo office. “Egyptians don’t know how to do this. When people are in conflict, they simply stop speaking to each other.”

Helping conflicted Egyptian Anglicans speak the truth in love is high among Bishop Mouneer’s priorities, so high, in fact, that he invited Peacemaker Ministries back to lead a second round of training for members of the Church’s staff. Ken Sande and I provided an introductory course for 20 participants, mostly Anglican priests, when we visited in May 2011. This time, the Bishop requested a more advanced program that would equip 77 of his church and ministry leaders with peacemaking skills.

Designing a training program for such a group is always an adventure. Although I have been at this for more than 10 years, I am still never quite sure what to expect. To be fair, neither are my hosts. We join in a kind of dance in which who leads and who follows are figured out as we go along. I constantly assess what’s working and what’s not working and make adjustments.

There is another element in all this, something that is impossible to predict, yet which plays a critical role – the presence of God’s spirit and of what he intends to do. Sometimes, all the parts just fit, the moves each partner makes complementing what the others do. For me, this was one of those times. We danced together well.

I landed in Cairo after a 27-hour trip from Billings, and I spent the late afternoon and evening with Rev. Farag Hanna, the Anglican priest who is coordinating this year’s training program.

Training for the Egyptian Church

We headed out early the next day to the Catholic retreat center, where our training took place. Our audience included not only Anglican priests, but also the heads of various Anglican ministries, such as schools and a hospital. Other than a handful who participated in our 2011 training, this year’s group had little prior experience with peacemaking. Somehow, I needed got to get them thoroughly comfortable with the basics and teach them coaching in three days, including the time needed to translate my English into their Arabic.

To accomplish this I stripped peacemaking and conflict coaching down to their essentials. I embedded basic principles into stories and narratives that would be both authentically Egyptian and memorable. Farag provided me with typical conflict scenarios, then we went back and forth by e-mail, as I built his original sketches into the case studies, demonstrations and role plays we would use for the training.

I was determined to build another element into our program. Like most of us, Egyptians confront barriers within the church and the larger culture that operate like big “No Trespassing” signs. Authority, age, gender, social standing, all play important roles in giving society its structure and shape. But, this relational architecture also sets boundaries around how people engage each other when conflicts arise. As a result, cultural norms and biblical precepts collide.

I wanted us to examine such boundaries carefully. Farag and I built into our cases and role plays some typical relational quagmires, such as a conflict in which an older, more senior leader sins against a younger, less influential member of his church. In many cultures, elder status automatically acquits senior leaders of responsibility when they act wrongly toward others, especially those who stand lower on the social scale. This touches the very heart of peacemaking and I felt it was critical that we press hard when such issues arose.

As I welcomed our 77 participants to the first day of training, I wondered how all this would play out…

It went even better than I had hoped. Participants readily grasped the concept of “heart issues,” that is, how the sinful motives result in sinful words and deeds.

The Innocent One Who Takes the Initiative

But, our Case Study raised a sensitive issue. The Senior Pastor in the case, Rev. Ibrahim, had acted both wrongly and abusively toward his young choir director, Samir, firing him without cause after blaming him for an event over which Samir had no control. Although troubled by the Senior Pastor’s actions, participants hesitated over whether he should go to the ex-choir director to apologize and offer his job back.

After a short break, I told the participants that I wanted them to continue in their small groups to answer the question, “Who should say what to whom?” Rather than continue to press them directly, I sensed God prodding me to find out what participants believed would be most appropriate in Egypt.

I was surprised when we gathered back in the plenary session. The first group to de-brief announced, “We think Rev. Ibrahim must talk directly with Samir. He needs to apologize.” A second group added, “Yes, but he’ll never do so without pressure. The other choir members need to go to Rev. Ibrahim to encourage him to talk to Samir.” Then a third group pitched in, “But, the choir members are all young and they’ll never go to Ibrahim. Their parents need to put pressure on Ibrahim to talk to Samir.” “No, the elders should talk to Ibrahim,” said another group. And so it went.

I was thrilled. Our group had gone beyond the question I had posed and was wrestling with the mechanics of how such a conversation could actually happen in Egypt, a place where admissions of wrongdoing are rare and seldom flow downhill.

But, now things got really interesting. A final comment came from the back of the room. “I think Samir should go to Rev. Ibrahim. He’s the innocent one in all this. So, he is in the best position to bring about a solution.”

“I agree,” I said. “What do you think would happen if, instead, Samir reached out to Rev. Ibrahim? What sort of impact would that have?”

One of the participants raised his hand. “It would have a very strong impact,” he said. “Usually the person who is innocent waits for the guilty person to come to him.”

“Can anyone think of examples from the Bible where we see this happen?” I asked. There was silence. “Isn’t this one of the great themes in Scripture, the innocent taking the initiative to reach out and restore the guilty?” I paused to let the idea sink in.

“Who took the initiative to reach out to us, to restore us to God?” I asked. A couple of people raised their forefingers and pointed skyward. “That’s right. Jesus, the innocent, came to earth and gave his life to restore us, the guilty.” There were nods of recognition.

We turned to look at key verses in Matthew 18. I summarized the story of the shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go after the one who has wandered off. Then, we read Matthew 18: 15: “If your brother sins against you go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens, you have won your brother over.” Again, the grand theme, the one who is wronged reaching out to restore the wrongdoer.

There was no need to press further. They got it. For the rest of our time together, participants would no longer wrestle with whether to apologize when they had sinned against others, or go to those who had sinned against them. From now they would wrestle with the question, “How do we do this, here, in Egypt?”

In the next installment: A role play exercise that was uniquely Egyptian…

Grace and peace,

Chip

Don’t let Claudia Christen’s gender, diminutive size or Swiss-Israeli accent fool you. She is highly respected by the inmates of Colina II, one of Chile’s five most violent prisons. Having been abused by men in the past, this is the last place a 5’2” woman should want to be. But the opportunity to teach peacemaking there was too extraordinary to pass.

Claudia with a group of students from Colina II

Since completing Peacemaker Ministries’ Conflict Coaching & Mediation course at our annual conference last September, Claudia graduated a group of Colina II men, as well as a class of ladies at the women’s prison. As she prepares for three new classes to start in March, she answered our questions about her latest peacemaking adventure.

What is the history of prison ministry in Chile, and how did you become involved?

“Prison Fellowship International has been working strongly in Chile since 1985. In March 2010, I got an email from the National Prison Chaplain asking if I could help them with some specific workshops. First I was pretty scared and had no idea if they would kill me in there! But while we were waiting for the governmental permissions to start the workshops, God was working in my heart. I can honestly say that I have enjoyed every day I’ve been working in prison so far.

I first started by teaching at the most dangerous women’s prison in the country. It’s such a joy and privilege to be allowed to enter a place where so few are allowed to enter, and share with our sisters and brothers in Christ who often suffer deeply. There’s a huge need for love, for someone who listens and cares; but they also need someone who lovingly points out where change is needed. It’s a true privilege to point them to our Lord and Savior!”

What advice do you have for people who want to teach peacemaking in prisons?

“After teaching peacemaking in two prisons, I realized that I needed to address the topic of anger. I also spend two sessions teaching on forgiveness, which can be a difficult topic to touch with them as there’s lots of opposition.

It takes time to do a course on peacemaking with inmates—at least 16-20 sessions (6 months). It’s important to make it practical, using their experiences from within prison and from their former lives. Give them time to talk, to analyze cases, and apply it to their own situations. Most of all, give them hope in Christ. Assure them that nothing is impossible for Christ, that he has already done everything for us, that he provides what we need, and that we are new creatures in him. It is possible to change and learn new ways to relate with each other.”

 In Claudia’s experience, peacemaking principles “know NO cultural boundaries”. When Peacemaker Ministries licensed her to translate Corlette Sande’s The Young Peacemaker into Spanish last year, we had no idea she’d use it to change the lives of convicts (for whom The Young Peacemaker had a more appropriate reading level). She uses this and other PM resources free of cost thanks to our generous financial supporters. Join us in praying for Claudia and her continued fruitful ministry in Chile.

Just before I left Beijing in October, I received an invitation to return to China six weeks later to attend a special conference on theological education. Eager to build on the relation­ships I’d made on my first trip, I flew into Shanghai on the December 5^th.  

The conference was attended by forty leaders from China’s twenty-one officially-recognized seminaries. I was included as a special guest of Overseas Council Ambassador Manfred Kohl, who has a personal relationship with nearly all of these seminaries.

We were invited to attend a special dinner with four top leaders in the China Christian Council (CCC), which oversees all ministry and training activities for the official church. In addition to enjoying a feast of exotic dishes, we had a candid discussion about the challenges and opportunities faced by churches in both China and the U.S.

Most of China’s official seminaries have been in existence for less than twenty years, so they are on a steep learning curve. They have no standardized curricula, and the quality of faculty, programs, and graduates varies from school to school, many of which are equivalent to an American Bible college. Speakers covered a variety of topics, including biblical foundations, spiritual forma­tion, faculty development, theological research, Christian ethics, advanced degree programs, opposing heresy, impacting society’s conscience, and mentoring future church leaders.

Each talk triggered spirited yet respectful comments and questions. I was told that because of their shame-honor culture, Chinese educators enjoy rigorous discussion but shy away from open debate, which might seem to be disrespectful—in contrast to many American seminaries! There was broad agreement among these leaders that they have a great deal of work ahead of them to meet the educational needs of the rapidly growing church in China, but I sensed both the commitment and energy needed for such advances.

When I was invited to address the group, I described how equipping pastors to teach and model biblical peacemaking can strengthen an entire congregation’s ability to live out the gospel and lead others to Christ. At the end of my talk I mentioned that I’d brought each seminary a set of resources that included Mandarin translations of The Peacemaker and our Bachelor of Arts curriculum, Conflict and Reconciliation, which we developed specifically for seminaries. Interest in the material was vividly illustrated at the end of our session by the rush to the resource table at the back of the room—every set was gone within thirty seconds.

Afterwards I had several inquiries on how to use the materials, as well as discussions about possible future training arrangements. On December 10^th, just two days after I left Shanghai, I learned how genuine this interest was. The seminary vice president who served as our interpreter throughout the conference wrote me the following:

When I returned to my office I immediately talked with our principal about your material and ministry. The result is we are going to use it in our Conflict Management course and in church leadership trainings as well.

I will use it in our afternoon lecture time next semester. I just read the materials you gave me, and see I need to understand it better, so that I will know how to use it and teach it. My first impression is that it will bring great help for our churches and future church leaders in our school.

I could not have asked for a swifter or more affirming response to my brief presentation.

We will see what other responses we receive in the days ahead, and then we’ll seek to discern how God is calling us to serve his church in China. Please pray for open minds among seminary and church leaders, for wisdom on how we can best serve them, and for the staff and financial resources we will need to respond to these opportunities (in addition to other invitations we are considering for 2012).

In the meantime, may God grant you and your loved ones a Christ-centered and peace-filled Christmas, and a new year that is filled with a passion to live only and entirely for Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

I’m very excited to announce the completion and publication of The Peacemaker in Amharic, the common language in Ethiopia!

We received the following note from our translation contact in Addis Ababa at the Evangelical Theological College yesterday: