Hopeful Realism in Urban Ministry: Critical Explorations and Constructive Affirmations of Hoping Justice Prayerfully by Barry K. Morris (review)

In Hopeful Realism in Urban Ministry Barry K. Morris puts forward a theological framework for urban ministry, shaped by his more than forty-year personal journey through pastoral ministry. A minister with the United Church of Canada, Morris works with the Longhouse Council of Native Ministry in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Morris begins his discussion of what he calls ‘‘hopeful realism’’ with the sobering acknowledgement of no less than Martin Luther King Jr.: ‘‘We still have a long, long way to go’’ in figuring out urban ministry. Writing in the foreword, Tim Dickau (no doubt with nod to his friend and ministry colleague) suggests this present state often leaves us wanting when reading other books on the subject: ‘‘Most of those books leave the rest of us in urban ministry feeling less of ourselves and of our churches’’ (p. xi).

And so Morris puts forward not the way but a way for those engaged in urban ministry—a journey through the familiar themes of hope, justice, and prayer in an attempt to help readers reflect on and move forward in their own experience of urban ministry.

Morris acknowledges that urban ministry is hard. He recognizes that current societal norms and the diversity or fractured nature of some of our own Christian thought about relevance in urban settings can easily leave Christian ministers and laity discouraged, at best, and, at worst, ready to pack the whole thing in altogether.

For Morris, hopeful realism begins with the writings of Jurgen Moltmann. ‘‘Hope,’’ writes Morris, is for Moltmann ‘‘a beckoning and energizing horizon of inclusive concern’’ (54). It is, he reminds us, not without ‘‘the need for an honest admission of limits’’ (52) to avoid being drawn into a ‘‘naïve optimism’’ (52) that suggests prayer or faith are passive activities that might ‘‘suffice for any and all situations.’’

Moving from Moltmann to Reinhold Niebuhr, Morris adds a second theme to his triadic framework. ‘‘Justice,’’ he writes, ‘‘is at the heart of urban ministry endeavors; it grounds, informs, and critiques a faithful, public, and prophetic witness. Justice is the apex of the triad of praying justice hopefully disciplines’’ (57). Here, Morris is deeply influenced by Niebuhr’s own pastoral realization that ‘‘love may be well enough for pastoral care, inter-personal relations, and—as it is a core theological virtue—for mature living. But given the presence of sin, love is not, on its own, enough’’ (71). It is not enough to analyze, address, and indeed change the attitudes and systems that are related to race, gender, class, labour, climate, environment, and economics. It is, suggests Morris, the persistent desire to live and do justice that keeps us engaged. ‘‘Love without justice,’’ he writes, ‘‘is too sentimental,’’ while justice without love can be ‘‘too sentimental or legal’’ (45).

Finally, Morris completes his triadic framework with the offer of Thomas Merton’s thoughts on prayer. He distils Merton’s theology of prayer to suggest that, at the very least, prayer is ‘‘what assists one’s willingness to be attentive to people and situations’’ (98). It is what helps us be human and stay human when we find ourselves in the presence of ‘‘that which dehumanizes’’ (98).

And so we see that Morris is concerned more with the attitude or posture (habitus) of the urban minister than he is with a prescription for ministry itself. Justice, hope, and prayer provide a framework for shaping or discerning this posture. While closely informed by each other, justice, he concludes, is central. ‘‘Justice is at the apex of the triad and is thus the discipline term prepared, enriched and complemented by prayer and hope’’ (98). Prayer, he suggests, roots our desire for justice in people and situations—not in the abstract. Finally, hope offers stamina and persistence when ministers and ministries encounter challenge or discouragement.

In conclusion...