Episode Five
Church
Working Together to Flourish
When we are planning a move to a new neighborhood, we explore its parks, shops, and restaurants. However, before we put down a deposit or a down payment, we also investigate its schools, churches, and real estate values. We get the numbers, including the crime reports. And, we hire a home inspector. We want the whole picture, the beautiful, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Before we make the move, we need to be able to see ourselves and our family members in that picture. Whether we realize it or not, we are doing an asset inventory and a needs assessment. Whatâs more, we are finding our way in a story that starts long before we arrive in our new neighborhood. We have not been sent so much as we have been brought there by the God who is always the first missionary on the scene.
In her work as a social and cultural entrepreneur in Indianapolis, Joanna Taft has learned that neighborhoods are living stages animated and marked with a history, not blank slates. As founder and director of the Harrison Center for the Arts, Joanna has made a name for herself revitalizing abandoned spaces in the city center. She helped found a nationally ranked high school and a cultural center that connects neighbors through innovative programming like Front Porch Indy. These accomplishments have brought opportunities to work with many leaders of business and government who have sought her advice. Like all good teachers, however, Joanna has never stopped learning from her neighbors.
In 2015, the King Park Development Corporation came asking for help to form a revitalization plan and attract investors. But, as Joanna and her team talked to the neighbors, they noticed a lot of fear. These residents werenât against improvement. But they had heard how âimprovementsâ in other neighborhoods had pushed residents out, even erased neighborhood names to start over.
As she listened, Joanna began to reckon with her own role in gentrification. Digging into the subject, she identified two forms: 1) economic gentrification, in which a neighborhoodâs revitalization attracts investors, drives up property values, and pushes out longtime residents who can no longer afford to live there, and 2) cultural gentrification, in which a neighborhoodâs story is forgotten in part or erased completely, such that longtime residents no longer feel at home there or part of its future.
As Joanna and her team cultivated conversations with residents about their life together in King Park, she came up with a way to honor its story. âWhat if we used theater to reenact the neighborhoodâs history, like a living history museum?â As Joanna and her team began gathering memories, photographs, and stories, they realized that the past was riddled with problems and possibilities just like the present. So, a member of Joannaâs team suggested a different way to honor the neighborhoodâs story. âWhat if we explore our neighborsâ hopes as well as their memories? What if we imagined a pre-enactment of what the neighborhood could become? We can honor the stories, people, and places of the past, but we can also provide a foretaste of what King Park might become.â
In October of 2016, King Park hosted a pre-enactment with the help of former, longtime, and new residents. New business owners in King Park were approached about how they imagined their future there, and how they would pre-enact it for the benefit of their local neighbors. Within the month they responded to say they had adjusted their hiring policies and their pricing to make room for the neighbors, who were making room for them. Together, businesses and nonprofits rented billboards and framed art for the pre-enactment weekend, depicting neighborhood scenes they were imagining together.
The city planned to reopen the Paul Laurence Dunbar Library, closed in 1968, for the pre-enactment to honor former residents and to recall the joys and sorrows of their shared history. A neighborhood church invited participants to take a vow of community renewal. Spoken word artist and musician Nabil Ince (stage name Seaux Chill) wrote music and lyrics imagining a ânew normal.â
When Christians move to a new neighborhood to start a new job or school, finding a local church is usually high on the checklist of needs to fill alongside a new grocer, doctor, and dentist. If not, something has gone wrong in their understanding of the character and mission of the church. I say this on the basis of two important modifiers for the word ecclesia or church in the New Testament.
First, the church is not just any gathering of people. It is the church âof God.â âOf Godâ signifies its primary relationship and its source or origin. The church is Godâs family, brought about by Godâs generous, self-giving actions. Therefore, a true church is marked by Godâs presence, that is to say, by the presence of Godâs Spirit. Second, phrases like âthe church of God in Corinth, Philippi, or Thessalonicaâ identify a particular locale where members of Godâs household live, work, and worship. The church is committed to the welfare of a place and the well-being of its citizens. As Mike Goheen has summarized,
If the church is to be simultaneously for God and for this place, however, it also must be against indigenous idolatries and injustices that twist the people, the relational and institutional systems of this place away from their original design and direction. In short, by loving both God and neighbors well, local churches help reweave a social fabric of redemptive relationships that foster peace. The Holy Spiritâs energizing presence in the weave between participants creates a tapestry beautiful enough to fire minds and hearts,...