There is a poem I return to quite frequently. It’s part of a poetry collection titled Huracanada, written by Puerto Rican author Mayra Santos-Febres. Its last stanza, which I repeat often to myself, almost like a prayer, reads,

Quiero que se sepa,
tomen nota.
Podemos, entre todas
levantar lo caído,
parirnos una Isla nueva.

In English, this roughly translates to:

I want it to be known,
take note:
Together, all of us,
can lift up what has fallen,
birth ourselves a new Island.

Huracanada was published in March 2018, barely six months after Hurricane Maria struck Puerto Rico as a Category 4 hurricane. Maria was apocalyptic. Its winds lifted many veils, revealing inconvenient truths our societies often prefer to look away from. A natural event became a man-made disaster zone. And in the face of so much death, Santos-Febres proclaims that we can communally birth new life, even a new Island. 

By the time this issue is published, hurricane season will have started, and with it, the renewed flowing river of our prayers for the protection of our Caribbean nations. But there are other hurricanes that also occupy my mind and heart. These hurricanes don’t seem to care about seasons because they are man-made hurricanes. Some of them have been stationed over entire countries for years, like the man-made hurricane of Russia’s war against Ukraine. Others are more difficult to pinpoint, like the systems that often keep women at the margins of theological education. Nevertheless, the gusts of winds slamming doors shut remind us of their reality.

To turn to Santos-Febres’s words again: What does it mean for the Church and its theological leaders to midwife life at national, institutional, communal, and personal levels in the midst of so many man-made hurricanes? The articles in this issue provide us with some possible answers to that question. 

Midwifing Life in Nations

This issue features two book reviews: Daniel Muvengi’s review of Valentyn Syniy’s Serving God Under Siege: How War Transformed a Ukrainian Community and Judy Wanjiru Wang’ombe’s review of The Cross and the Olive Tree: Cultivating Palestinian Theology amid Gaza, edited by John S. and Samuel S. Munayer. One written by a seminary president and the other edited by two theological leaders, both books wrestle with what it means to think theologically, bear witness to Christ, and cultivate life within nations facing the lethal winds of war. Together, these books highlight the importance of theological leadership and community in the midst of uncertainty, chaos, and destruction.

Midwifing Life in Institutions

Shifting attention to the institutions that help cultivate such leadership, three articles in this issue focus on aspects of institutional life. First, Casthelia Kartika contemplates the question of institutional sustainability. She describes her seminary’s transformation from being guided by activities to being guided by missional alignment. Kartika’s article is full of valuable pointers for executives whose aim for their institutions is to “live coherently with their calling.” Meanwhile, Evan Hunter direct his gaze to faculty, their crucial role in institutional life, and, consequently, the need to invest in their development “as the most important resource for accomplishing a school’s mission.” Both of these articles remind us that for us to midwife life at an institutional level, we need to return our focus to missional identity and collective calling – which are in turn, or should be, at the service of the life of the Church.

Similarly, Lisa Lamb takes on that elusive hurricane to which I referred earlier and looks at “seminary practices in the Majority World that lead to and hinder women’s flourishing as preachers,” including the high cost that barring women from pulpits has for the life of the community of faith.

Midwifing Life in Communal Relationships

Sitting at the intersection of the communal and the personal, the women of the Scholar Leaders Women’s Peer Leader Forum – Casthelia Kartika, Judy Wanjiru Wang’ombe, Grace Al-Zoughbi, Eva Wong Suk Kyun, and Sofía Quintanilla – offer their analyses of what spirituality means in their contexts, especially for women. Casthelia describes spirituality in the Indonesian context as “a journey of being with God for the sake of others.” Meanwhile, Judy notes that “African women’s spirituality defies compartmentalization.” She writes, “Our spirituality encompasses all areas of life; wherever we go, our spirituality goes.” And Grace observes how hospitality is a “vital dimension of Middle Eastern spirituality.” In the midst of the hurricanes of life, which often uproot us in unexpected ways, Christian spirituality serves as that steady ground in which we can take root and from there cultivate life.

Finally, Jocabed Solano challenges our understandings of how Christian theology is understood and practiced by Indigenous communities in Abya Yala. Once again, the thread of communal orientation emerges as a common denominator, as does the daring invitation to a more holistic Christian life, one that involves all of creation and the entirety of the human community, past and present.

As I sit with the words of the contributors to this issue, I return to the stanza quoted at the beginning of this introduction. The poet is right. As we face the violent winds of man-made hurricanes in this world, current ones and those to come, we have concrete ways in which we can midwife life at national, institutional, communal, and personal levels. This is not glamourous work. The poet knows this too. We will go out “machete in hand, children on our backs, to look for food, water, to unnail storm shutters, to unclog sewers. To work alongside others.” Such is the work of realigning ourselves in faithfulness to the God of Life and the mission he has given us; of cultivating and participating in the community of the ecclesia in all its diversity; and of grounding ourselves in a Christian spirituality that lays claim to the whole of life. May we remain open to the surprising ways God may call us to pursue wholeness in our contexts.