The Ven. Denis McManis writes that serving in New Orleans has allowed him to see the essence of servanthood ministry.
By the Ven. Dennis R. McManis
It is wonderful to be back in Southwest Florida after 26 months of post-Katrina recovery work in the Episcopal Diocese of Louisiana. I have seen the best of mankind in the worst of living conditions. Indeed, I have seen the Episcopal Church in its finest hour, even in the politically charged state that we find ourselves in today.
As Bishop Charles Jenkins is fond to say, “When you find yourself so low on Maslow’s Hierarchal Ladder of Needs, looking for drinkable water and basic living necessities, the political concerns of the church somehow don’t seem that relevant.”
Or, put another way, “we were so focused on ministry we didn’t have the desire or time to worry about those things that did not pertain to our mission.” And in the process we, the Episcopal Church and the thousands of volunteers who so generously gave of themselves, were profoundly changed by our experiences. Having served 294,992 people, my sense of diaconal ministry as a calling for all baptismal Christians has taken on new depths of meaning.
It is this new understanding of ministry that I would like to share with you, because the lessons learned in New Orleans are just as relevant in our communities. Through all the devastation and loss of life and property, Hurricane Katrina was in some ways a gift to the church.
First, it “cleaned the slate” giving us an opportunity to look afresh at systemic problems in the health care, education and social justice systems. Those same issues also face us here, especially in light of our aging population, the area’s undocumented farm and hospitality/service industry workers, and the increasing homelessness and unemployment in our communities.
These are challenges to which the church is called to be a voice for the voiceless and advocates for the poor and disenfranchised; Katrina opened our minds and hearts to return to our church’s strong tradition of advocacy for social justice.
The second opportunity Katrina gave us was a chance to witness to our faith, being beacons of hope and instruments of compassion; Katrina called the church to return to our outward focus of ministry of serving others. It was in response to these opportunities that universal lessons for ministry were brought to new life for me, lessons that can be transferred to our diocese as we develop our mission and outreach ministries for the future.
Ministry is being responsive to an opportunity to minister. As the world is in a constant state of fluidity, the church cannot be effective if it is static. Effective ministries will be those born out of sensitivity for the unmet needs of the community, with a corresponding responsiveness to meet them. This is not an “if we build it they will come” scenario, but rather a need to meet people where they are with an intentionality to lift them up by not only being responsive to their needs but by our re-presenting Christ in their time of need. This was probably the biggest ministry reality learned in New Orleans.
Ministry is being responsive in a timely way. Before my departure for Louisiana, I was one who would let things develop in the natural course of events. My work in Louisiana has given me a much more time-sensitive appreciation of ministry. Things change in the world so rapidly. I now know that to “put off until tomorrow what God is calling us to do today” will simply result in another lost opportunity to be responsive to God’s call for ministry.
Ministry is moving out of our comfort zone. I now understand why Jesus said to be His followers we will need to be “in the world” but not “of the world,” and to “not be afraid.” Being products “of the world” we are taught success is achievable by taking control of our lives and making things happen.
Our post-Katrina work taught me to let go and have faith, for control too often limits what we can do, as well as blinds us to those things which we ought to do.
I have learned that when I sense a call to minister to someone, that call is to step boldly without fear of the consequences, for if I am being responsive to the Lord’s call, everything will work out.
Ministry is being Christ-centered not self-centered. I thought I was a Christ-centered person before my Louisiana experience. I now know that it means to be so focused on serving the needs of others that Christ does indeed become the center of my being.
Ministry is sacrificial. I thought I knew what it meant to live a sacrificial life. But living among people from all walks of life and socio-economic status who had lost everything, I truly began to understand what real sacrificial living was. I also learned the healing power of unconditional love and Christian charity, which offers the peace of Christ even in the midst of turmoil and chaos.
The Ministry of presence is unbelievably powerful. We live in a culture that trains us to “fix things.” In a world turned upside down with limited resources, I witnessed the transformational power of the ministry of presence. Most of the time, we couldn’t satisfy the tangible needs of those we encountered. But to simply be with them, listening to their story, praying with them and offering small creature comforts had an unbelievable effect on people. They knew we couldn’t solve their problems, but simply having someone focus on them in the middle of overwhelming devastation gave them hope, the hope that can only be known through our risen Lord.
Ministry quite often has a life cycle. In the fast pace of hurricane recovery work, we quickly realized that as the needs of people changed, so our ministries needed to change to be effective. How often do we take ownership of a program and hold on to it as if that were our identity? Katrina taught me to not be afraid to let go and to move on.
Ministry is to be shared. Things were so fluid in New Orleans, out of necessity, once a ministry was established we gave that ministry over to someone else to run, allowing us the opportunity to move on to the next challenge. Consequently, like throwing a pebble into a pond and seeing the ever-appearing ripples moving outward, the ministries in our recovery work became like concentric circles ever reaching out in new ways.
Ministry is transformational. While we were focused on helping the victims of Katrina, it became apparent that our lives and those of everyone who helped us were transformed. This wasn’t something we thought about or decided upon; it was God’s transformative grace at work in us as we focused on serving others.
Out of the ashes of despair, God always raises up life anew. It is from these transformational experiences that I dream of applying ministry lessons learned to our diocese. I have a vision of empowering our deacons and all the baptized faithful in our diocese to come together as the Body of Christ serving the unmet needs of our communities.
This is truly the essence of servanthood ministry, allowing us to be beacons of hope and instruments of Christ’s peace.
May we continue to inwardly open our hearts and minds to God’s presence while we outwardly seek to re-present Him through acts of kindness and charity. It is all relevant to our calling to be disciples of Jesus Christ, our Lord and savior.
— Deacon Dennis McManis is the diocesan canon for mission and outreach.