Journal articles on the topic 'Christian leadership Church camps Christian education'

The field of Christian education is changing due to globalization and contextualization of society, particularly as it relates to the ethnic demographics of the church. While much of the research and leadership in evangelical theology has historically been dominated by white males from the West, the field of postcolonial theologies and hermeneutics has implications for the church and the future of the field of Christian education. This article provides an overview of postcolonial studies (liberation theologies, feminist theology, and biblical hermeneutics) and how they are changing the scope of theological and biblical studies. Then the article gives focus to the impact of postcolonial studies on the field of Christian education by sketching out a way forward for future studies in Christian education.

The aim of this paper is to explore a few factors that contribute to the tendency towards secularization in the evangelical churches in Central and Eastern Europe. It further suggests theological remedies to address the causes of secularization. The thesis of this paper is that there are three causes for the tendency towards secularization. First is the secularization of theological education, second is the crisis of ecclesial identity, and third is the secularization of leadership. The first proposal of this paper is that the remedy for the secularization of theological education is redefining theology as communion, theological education as transformation, and theological formation as discipleship. Second, the remedy for the crisis of ecclesial identity that leads to negative identity markers is the replacement of the external conformation model of Christian life (which leads to social isolation, subculturality, and spiritual abuse) with the internal transformation model, which leads to a healthy spirituality and a meaningful theology of mission. Third and finally, the remedy for the secularization of leadership is the rediscovery of the kenotic model of Christian life and ministry.

The experience of young male Dinka refugees during Sudan's second civil war (1983–2005) illustrates the connections between religious change, violence and displacement. Many of the ‘unaccompanied minors’ who fled to camps in Ethiopia and then Kenya moved decisively towards Christianity in the years during which they were displaced. Key variables were the connection between education and Christianity, the need for new structures of community, and the way in which the Church offered a way to make sense of the destruction of civil war. As the war ended, many former refugees returned to their home regions as Christian evangelists, leading to further religious change. Their case parallels other mass conversion movements in African Christian history but takes place in a post-colonial context of civil war.

The second half of the second century saw the development of a more hierarchical institutionalized church and of a theology of the Holy Spirit (Pneuma) reflecting this development. A driver of this development was a higher educational level among church leaders and Christians participating in theological discourse. In fact, ‘higher education’ (paideia) became a guiding value of Christian living, including for the study and interpretation of Scripture and for theology and church leadership. Yet the same period also saw a new wave of ‘inspired’, ‘pneumatic prophecy’, later known as ‘Montanism’, which was perceived as a threat in an increasingly institutionalized church and attacked and suppressed. This article sees a paradox here, and asks how Pneuma could be promoted as a source of Christian leadership under the banner of paideia, when the Spirit (Pneuma) at work in the ‘New Prophecy’ was perceived as such a threat. One area of investigation which may provide answers to this question is the controversial role women played both as educated participants in theological discourse and leading figures in the Montanist movement.

This article represents a plenary session address for the Asbury Seminary Faculty Retreat, September 20, 2019, by Ed Stetzer, the Billy Graham Chair of Church, Mission, and Evangelism at Wheaton College, Dean of the School of Mission, Ministry, and Leadership at Wheaton College, and Executive Director of the Billy Graham Center. The article addresses six significant trends facing theological education. Following this, three mission challenges are derived from the trends, followed by three implications moving forward.

Feminist leadership is very important in theological education as it would seek to deconstruct stereotypical assumptions about women and gender in Christian theological traditions. Unfortunately, most of the theological schools in Nigeria do not have feminist as leaders. Five reasons why feminist leadership are needed in theological schools have been identified as, the bible teaching that women brought sin and death to the world, servant hood notion of women, scandal of particularity, male domination of ministries and theological methods and process that are full of stereotypes. All this does not provide women a unique opportunity to discover and develop their potential in the church and society. Also, women’s relevance and contributions can be hampered if not allowed to put in their optimum. To avoid this, the researcher suggests that theological education should not discriminate against any gender, but should work to bring about gender justice by involving the feminist leaders in theological education in Nigeria. It is hoped that by pursuing these steps, theological education in Nigeria would be preparing the way to sustainable development of the mission of Christ on earth.

This article is a summary of the history of the LGBTQ movement on the campus of Princeton Theological Seminary from the perspective of the author, David H. Wall, who was a student (1979–1980) and served in the administration from 1980 to 2016. Wall describes his own journey as a gay Christian, along with a series of events and people that contributed to changes within the PTS community and the Presbyterian church from condemnation to welcome of LGBTQ people and their allies. Many LGBTQ students’ stories are included. The impact and work of the student organization CLGC (Church and Lesbian/Gay Concerns), later named BGLASS is covered as the organization’s leadership and mission evolved from a focus on education to one of advocacy. Included are the roles of the faculty and administration.

The stakeholder of college graduates oftenly complained about the low skills possessed by the graduates. The same thing is experienced in the world of church service and Christian education, that there are still many theological scholars who lack the skills or expertise in their fields.This study aimed to determine how well the graduates of theological college having skills which answer the needs in the Church and Christian educational institutions. The results of the study concluded that the skills of the graduates of theological college are still not optimal. There are five skills that have a fairly low assess-ment, namely skill of leadership, servants, service experience, theological knowledge, and English ability. Abstrak Para pengguna lulusan perguruan tinggi mengeluhkan masih rendahnya kecakapan yang dimiliki oleh para lulusan terebut. Hal serupa juga dialami dalam dunia pelayanan gereja dan pendidikan Kristen, bahwa masih banyak sarjana teologi yang kurang memiliki kecakapan atau keahlian dalam bidangnya. Penelitian ini bertujuan untuk mengetahui seberapa baik kecakapan lulusan STT dalam menjawab kebutuhan pelayanan di gereja dan lembaga pendidikan Kristen. Hasil penelitian menyimpulkan bahwa kecakapan lulusan STT masih belum maksimal. Ada lima kecakapan yang memiliki penilaian yang cukup rendah yaitu kecakapan sebagai pemimpin, sebagai pelayan, pengalaman pelayanan, pengetahuan teologi, dan kemampuan berbahasa Inggris.

The emergence of Baptist seminaries in Ukraine was influenced by Western churches or missions and in some cases by the Ukrainian diaspora, which had lived outside Ukraine for a long time. The decisive influence was exerted by representatives of churches, educational institutions and Christian universities in the United States. Seminaries went through a number of stages of their own development, during which the forms of collective leadership changed. The first stage is the emergence of seminaries and the harmonization of seminars to unified standards. In the first stage, immediately after the seminary was established, they had very friendly relations with local churches, the programs were very flexible and responded to the needs of the churches. Church leaders saw these initiatives as part of church ministry. The second stage is the extensive development of seminaries, by which the author means the involvement of additional resources in the work of seminaries and the growth of seminaries, associated with the number of students, and for some seminaries - the opening of branches or field programs. This type of growth was also due to the fact that seminaries began to become more independent of national churches, and partnerships with Western organizations became more formalized, which was most often seen in the participation of Western partners in the board of trustees. The third period is a reassessment of the work of seminaries. The beginning of this period is largely related to the global economic crisis of 2007-2008, and its result was the resumption of dialogue between seminaries and churches. The fourth period - institutional changes - is associated with the reaction of the Ukrainian state to the Bologna process and the adoption of the new Law of Ukraine "On Higher Education". The process of preparation for state accreditation and formation of a culture of openness in the national educational environment has begun.

Abstract Thomas Nganda Wangai’s personal account of the beginnings of the Orthodox Church in Kenya gives a first-hand narrative of the Kikuyu resistance to mission Christianity and mission-imposed education that led to the break with the mission churches and colonial-approved mission schools. The subsequent creation of the Kikuyu Independent Schools Association and the Kikuyu Karing’a Education Association as well as independent churches attempted to create a new identity outside the mission church establishment in colonial Kenya. This desire to remain Christian while throwing off the yoke of Western versions of Christianity led Nganda and other early leaders to seek out a nonmission form of Christianity that reflected the ancient purity of the early church. Nganda tells the story of how a schismatic archbishop of the African Orthodox Church provided the initial leadership for the nascent Orthodox movement. Nganda charts the interrelatedness of the search for an ecclesiastical identity and the decision to align with the Alexandrian Patriarchate and the growing political conflict with the Kenyan colonial authorities. The paper concludes with Nganda’s description of the Orthodox Church’s response to the declaration of Emergency in 1953, along with the hardship and suffering that the subsequent ten years of proscription imposed.

The Problem There are 70.5 million Lutherans in the world, with numbers increasing in Asia and Africa. Currently, only 14% of the Lutheran bishops are women, an increase from 10% in 2011. The role of bishop is a complex leadership position, requiring one to lead up to 150 churches and pastors in a geographical area. With more than 50% of the Lutheran church population comprised of women, their gender and voices are not being represented or heard at the highest levels of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). With one billion women projected to enter the workforce globally in the next two decades, more needs to be written and understood about women church leaders, such as Lutheran bishops. The purpose of this study was to explore the journeys of women who achieved the office of bishop, to glean what can be learned for the benefit of other women who might be called to these higher levels of leadership in the church. The Solution This research suggests that 70% of the ELCA women bishops interviewed had unique career journeys, important spouse support, few women mentors, many challenges, and key leadership competencies required for the role. These findings can be helpful to future Lutheran and other Christian church leaders. It can help current and future women bishops understand what is expected in the role so they can be more successful in it. Leadership development recommendations are also suggested for seminary and higher education administrators and educators. The Stakeholders This research contributes to the literature in human resource development (HRD) by concentrating on the experiences of women leaders in the church—specifically women who have achieved the office of Bishop of the ELCA. The findings offer insights that can benefit scholars and practitioners alike, as well as current and future women leaders across the globe, in the church setting as well as other settings.

American philosopher John Dewey (1859–1953) wanted to change the way we understand the world. Born just prior to our Civil War, Dewey is a telling figure as the authority of a premodern day gave way to the progressive promise of modernity. In this regard, Dewey's family, church, college, academic, and peer relationships are considered. The article notes the “new” pedagogy of the Laboratory School (founded by Dewey and his wife at the University of Chicago in 1894), his early Christian years, and attraction to and struggle with evolutionary science's rational approach to experience. That struggle culminated with Dewey's rejection of theistic philosophical arguments and a withdrawal from the institutional church on his family's arrival in Chicago. We see how an administrative argument over the leadership of the Laboratory School took him to New York City and Columbia (1904). By this time he was acknowledged as a founder of the Progressive and Pragmatist movements. A self-described liberal humanist, he continued his involvement with social reform and the national politics of his day. A public argument as to the reality of God led Dewey to repackage religious faith as the possibility of a nation's scientific embrace of thoughtful, well-educated, participatory democracy. His resulting book, A Common Faith (1934), is considered. How his peer, Reinhold Niebuhr, might differ serves here as a contrast to Dewey's understanding.

What was it like for children and youth to grow up in the Protestant Church in 16th century Europe? This historical study explores this question through its focus on specific practices within Christian education and ecclesial rites of initiation, namely baptism, confirmation, and the use of catechisms in the spiritual formation of young people. The research is situated at the intersection of historical theology, spiritual formation, and the life stages of childhood and adolescence, placing particular focus on the theology and writings of Martin Luther as a representative of Reformation-era ecclesial leadership. I argue that Luther recognised a distinct life stage of adolescence between childhood and adulthood, revealed both in his theology of childhood and in educational practices for children and youth, then conclude with considerations for contemporary ministry praxis.

Introduction. The turn of the 1980s – 1990s in the history of our country is characterized by the liberalization of the social system, which changed, in particular, the relations between the state and the Orthodox Church. One of the crucial issues in this area is the consideration of state policy to involve the Russian Orthodox Church into joint partnership. It allows determining the place and role of the Orthodox confession in the life of post-Soviet Russia. The article analyzes the features of the historical development of the economic policy of regional authorities aimed at involving the local diocese into joint social partnership in 1990s – first decade of the 2000s. The purpose of the research is to reveal a comprehensive chronological framework of the historical aspects of economic policy carried out in relation to its involvement into social partnership. Materials and Methods. To achieve this goal, both unpublished archival documents and published sources were used. The main source for the article were the materials from the funds of the state historical archive of the Chuvash Republic and the state archive of modern history of the Chuvash Republic (documents of official records management of public authorities and religious organizations), which are first introduced into scientific use. The study is based on the principle of historicism, comparative-historical and descriptive methods, which revealed the content of the research. Results. According to the results of the study of economic policy of the Chuvash authorities to involve local Orthodox community into joint partnership in 1990s – first decade of the 2000s, the authors give a comprehensive description of the considered historical processes. In particular, two stages concerning the beginning of sate and church social partnership in the Chuvash Republic are proposed and described. The first phase is characterized by preconditioning (acknowledgement of the Russian Orthodox Church’s leadership in spiritual revival of the local population, economic support of the church revival, etc.) and the origin and growth of the social partnership model of state and church relations (the period of 1990s). The second stage (first decade of 2000s) is the time of approval and implementation of the social partnership relations model between the Chuvash authorities and Chuvash diocese. The main characteristic of the period are the agreements between the diocese and healthcare institutions, educational institutions, justice institution regarding the issues of spiritual and patriotic education, opposition to totalitarian sects, etc. Discussion and Conclusion. In general, the priority in social partnership in the Chuvash republic in the period of 1990s – first decade of 2000s was given (comparing to, for example, pre-Christian beliefs) to the Orthodoxy, which was determined mainly by its historic significance, its special role in the cultural life of the region. At the same time at the beginning of first decade of 2000s there are events (Chuvash diocese took part in the opening of the monument of the “Covering Mother”, the Russian Orthodox Church took part in discussions regarding the ban of pre-Christian beliefs publications), which proved the fact of considering the Russian Orthodox Church by the authorities not only from the position of social, but also from the point of political partnership.

The article examines the main publications covering the centuries-old history of the Catholic Church in the lands of modern Bashkortostan, as well as partly affecting the interaction of local Catholic communities with coreligionists from other cities located in the South Urals, as well as in the Middle Volga region. Unfortunately, there are quite a few special studies on the history of this Christian denomination in our republic. Many works, in one way or another related to this issue, are of a general nature and contain a schematic listing of factual information, or are more devoted to the history of national communities, for which this religion is, to a certain extent, one of the most important elements of traditional ethnic culture. Here it is necessary to note, first of all, publications on the history of the Polish and German diaspora, which provide information about the participation of representatives of these communities in the creation of Catholic parishes and public associations associated with charity and education. At the same time, the significance of the confessional aspect is to a much lesser extent revealed in works on the history of Latvian immigrants from Latgale, Belarusians and Ukrainians from Volyn and Eastern Galicia, who, due to various circumstances, left their homes during the First World War, as well as other Catholic emigrants from Central and Western Europe, located in the Ufa province at the beginning of the XX century. In some articles on demography and striking features of social stratification, one can find indirect references to the presence of Catholics, but this information only It is noteworthy that most publications indicate the middle of the 17th century as the earliest dating of the appearance of believing Catholics in the South Urals, and evidence of missionary trips to the Eastern Hungarians during the 13th-15th centuries allows us to make hypothetical assumptions about their role in the life of the local religious community. It can be noted that the presence of a certain part of Catholics on the territory of Bashkiria during the 16th20th centuries. was associated with forced migration due to the fact that, as a result of military clashes, some of them were captured, as well as due to participation in activities that conflicted with the interests of the Russian leadership are considered, with a few exceptions, only in the context of the problem of the origin of the Bashkir people, most likely due to the modest results of the preaching.

Dievturība (dievturi - "God keepers", "people who live in harmony with God") is a newly created religious tradition having appeared in the second part of the 1920s – 1930s, its most essential source includes materials of Latvian folklore and folk traditions. These are interpreted by construing a religious ethical theory and creating a religion which is alternative to Christianity, with its own doctrine and rituals, and the conception of Latvianness in culture and politics. Latvianness is the most essential concept of cultural politics to which all activities of the dievturi are subjected (exaltation, family celebrations (krustabas, vedības (marriage), bedības (funeral)) as well as seasonal rituals, cultural historical excursions, tidying and spiritual restoration of the sacral sites (sacred places, castle mounds), folklore activities, article publications in mass media, summer thematic camps in the countryside marked by intensive mastering and cultivation of history and culture, celebration of Latvian public holidays and the most important remembrance days. Contemporary dievturi groups are seeking for new ideas in order to develop and popularize their conceptions, which can partly be characterized as a cultural political programme for theoretical (doctrine) and practical (exaltations, ceremonies, seasonal rituals) realization of Latvianness and its components. Within this publication, creativity means the system of ideas and values that promotes the development and perspectives of dievturi groups as well as includes them into a wider cultural political environment thus performing a culture-creating job. A special attention is paid to the essential ideas and values guiding the creativity of contemporary Latvian dievturi groups, making ample use of storyteller habitus, thus intentionally allowing the domination of group participant discourse. The two main directions of dievturi group participant creativity are the development of their doctrine (teaching) and the ritual practice (exaltations). These directions allow to attract wide attention of the society and mass media, new participants and supporters, to influence the political and cultural processes in Latvia. An important part in the doctrinal reflections of the dievturi, especially in the ritual practice (exaltations), has always been taken by Latvian literature writings. A selective choice of these supplement the textual canon of the dievturi continuing the tradition in line with “the mood of Latvian folk songs” and attributing a more modern shape and world outlook concepts to dievturi undertakings. The aim of an exaltation is always associated with the main cultural political concept of the dievturi – Latvianness, namely, to make Latvianness more active, to offer an opportunity to approach Latvianness, make efforts for deeper comprehension of it, being aware and living through it, although thematically it may be dedicated to separate components of Latvianness (people, land, language, God, Māra, Laima, work, virtues, human life, and the like). Also, the most essential ideas and values of dievturība – gender equality, domesticity, antiglobalism, ecology, traditional marriage formula, life style and appearance, environment (for example, use of Latvian language), music, art and literature priorities (classical and/or national music, use of local building materials and ornaments (all ornaments have been observed in Latvia’s nature), writers, poets and playwrights who most precisely depict the “Latvian spirit” – derive from folk songs and the cultural concepts deriving thereof. Activity in the field of Latvianness (ethnicity conception) is in accord with the activity in favour of the future of the Latvian people, symbolical non-forgetting of culture correspond to generating of culture. This attributes a political and social dimension to the cultural activity of dievturi. Dievturība does not perform an official cultural politics of cultural values, heritage, traditions etc., this is a task for politicians; however, it is at least a marginal participant of the cultural political sphere. Placing ethnicity, or the Latvian discourse, at the centre of cultural politics encompasses the range of further impact when the seeming encapsulation within the margins of culture are replaced by reflections on Latvian economy, guidelines in education and science, health care system, axiological juxtaposition of the countryside and city. Also, the evaluation and criticism of the activity of the Christian Church by the dievturi is connected with the conception of Latvianness. Dievturi strongly disclaim Christianity and any chance of mutual cooperation (and also vice versa), protest against its monopoly position in Latvian society, consider Christianity a historically alien religion having been forced upon Latvians and demanding the status of a traditional religion in Latvia also for dievturība including, for example, the right to wed, to celebrate religious festivals. The results of field research do not allow to speak about dievturība today as a strong and united manifestation of Latvian religious experience and way of life. Rather, it is possible to register (after the decline of the movement at the end of the 1990s and at the beginning of the 2000s) a quite consistent and sufficiently active revival which is connected with the appearance of new persons and creative ideas among Latvian dievturi. The future events depend on the fact whether dievturi themselves would be able to solve the protracted inner inconsistencies and find a uniting grounds for further development of the movement. The article is based on the study results obtained during the 2006–2008 field research carried out in dievturi groups (interviews with group leaders, participants and individual representatives, transcripts of audio and video materials). The study was carried out with the financial support of the project “Society and lifestyles” and using its accepted methods – ethnographic description, semi-structured interviews and methods of visual anthropology (photography, filming) and instructions by the Ethical Commission (for example use of assumed names for storytellers).

Women in many Christian cultures are told that men are strong and should lead the church. Consequently, some women rationalize that they should not assume top leadership roles in the church. When they do assume such roles, many female pastors experience challenges. The purpose of our qualitative case study was to give voice to Asian female pastors (AFPs) by having them share challenges they experienced in the Taiwanese Presbyterian Church and relate those challenges to the experiences of Deborah in the biblical story found in Judges 4 and 5. Reported in this paper are the results of focus groups centered on a feminist commentary of Deborah's story. The voices of the AFPs speak to reconstruct traditional patriarchal theological thought.

Learning arenas which may foster missional leadership: Reflections on The Cape Town Commitment’s evangelical and missiological contribution to leadership development This article explores evangelical perspectives on how to foster missional leadership on key learning arenas. The Lausanne Movement is widely regarded as representative for evangelical perspectives, and its roadmap The Cape Town Commitment (CTC) is therefore selected as the material. In line with CTC, missional leaders are viewed as a broad category which includes church and mission leaders, Gospel-inspired social action leaders, and Christian thought-leaders in the public arena. The background is today’s pluralistic and secular context, with ‘the civil public square’ as a desirable common vision. Key evangelical convictions in CTC, shaping the fostering of missional leaders, include the foundational grace of Christ, a classical evangelical theology, a holistic missional approach, and a ‘whole person’ leadership development. The church, theological education, and the academy at large are selected as significant learning arenas in CTC. The church arena, claims CTC, should be shaped by biblical teaching, equipping for apologetics, and a holistic view of calling. As a learning arena, per CTC, theological education needs to have a focus on the missional intention, the missional tasks, and the missional equipping, all of which presuppose the centrality of the Bible. Therefore, every theological education should undertake a «missional revision». In terms of the arena of the academy at large, CTC emphasizes its formative role, stresses the need both for Christian institutions and Christians in the ‘secular academy’, encouraging faith and learning as well as public apologetics. All this leads to final missiological reflections, where it is argued that fostering missional leaders on these arenas (a) is enhanced by an emphasis on «bearing witness to Jesus Christ and all his teaching in every nation, in every sphere of society, and in the realm of ideas», (b) presupposes an understanding of cognitive dissonance as a key challenge in the contemporary secular context, and (c) should include a comprehensive apologetic strategy for all three arenas.

Nahashon Ngare Rukenya (1930–1996) was initially a Mau-Mau leader during Kenya’s war of independence (1952–60). Mau-Mau rebels were a militant group that waged guerrilla warfare against British colonialism in Kenya; and was largely seen as anti-Christian, anti-Anglican and anti-Presbyterian. As political advisor to the Mau-Mau, especially in their military offensives, Ngare Rukenya was once waylaid by the colonial forces, captured and detained. His turning point as Mau-Mau leader came when a Christian sect called the Moral Re-Armament (MRA)—founded by an American missionary Dr Frank Buchman in 1938—visited various detention camps to deliver counselling and teaching services. In particular, the MRA taught about the equality of all humans as children of God. They preached peace and reconciliation amongst all people living in colonial Kenya, while using biblical references to support their theological and ecclesiastical positions. After listening to their argumentation—while at Athi River detention camp—Ngare Rukenya’s politics of “land and Freedom” (wiyathi na ithaka—the core theme in Mau-Mau politics), changed to peace, reconciliation and resettlement of post-war Kenya. It re-energised his lay Anglican Church leadership, a church seen as pro-colonialism; hence hated by the local populace. This article sets out to unveil the problem in reference to Ngare Rukenya: How did the MRA influence socio-political discourses and eventually play its role in post Mau-Mau war reconstruction in Kenya (1959–1970)? The article is set on the premise that without Ngare Rukenya’s contribution regarding peace, reconciliation and resettlement, Central Kenya (as epicentre of Mau-Mau rebel activities) would have experienced civil war after colonialism in 1963. Ngare Rukenya and the MRA represent a major turning point in the Kenyan ecclesiastical history. The materials in this presentation are largely gathered through oral interviews, archival researches and limited consultation of published works.

Christ Apostolic Church was the foremost African Indigenous Church in Nigeria and its history dates back to 1918. The growth and expansion of the church in Nigeria was aided by the activities of its youth organisations, prominent among which is the Christ Apostolic Church Students’ Association. This article examines the origin of the Association, its vision, administration and programmes. The article also highlights the various contributions of the society to the growth and expansion of the church via evangelism and church planting, music ministry, establishment of Campus Fellowship Centres, promotion of Christian/formal education, career development and leadership development. The study adopted Matthew Seebach’s theory which is based on active forms of participation of youths in which the involvement of young people results in an impact on a process, influences a decision, or produces an outcome. Data were gathered through the use of structured oral interview, questionnaire, archival materials and bibliographical search. KEYWORDS: Christ Apostolic Church, Association, Youths, Growth and Expansion.

Christ Apostolic Church was the foremost African Indigenous Church in Nigeria and its history dates back to 1918. The growth and expansion of the church in Nigeria was aided by the activities of its youth organisations, foremost among which was the Light of the World Society. This article examines the origin of the society, its objectives, administration and programmes. The article also highlights the various contributions of the society to the growth and expansion of the church via evangelism and church planting, promotion of Christian education and leadership development. The study adopted George Ehusani’s concept which states that the youths should not be seen as mere objects or targets of the Church’s programmes and projects, rather they should be seen as active agents of evangelization. Data were gathered through the use of structured oral interview, questionnaire, archival materials and bibliographical search. KEYWORDS: Christ Apostolic Church, Light of the World, Youths, Growth and Expansion

Abstract This article explores the situated learning found among 18 young volunteers taking part in an education programme about leadership and Christian spirituality in the Church of Sweden. Focus group interviews and observations are analysed in the framework of situated learning, using legitimate peripheral participation as a lens. The study shows how the young people, through the education programme, formed a safe community where new identities were shaped through participating in new ways of worship, making pilgrimages, engaging in peer dialogue, and in reflection. They also gained new perspectives and models for volunteering. The young people´s experience of living in a secular culture presents challenges to their identity formation and to their ongoing spiritual practice and development. The use of situated learning provides a deeper understanding of the process of learning in spirituality and of the problems associated with conflicting communities of practice.

Ministry leadership presents unanticipated challenges to those seeking to serve the church. Whilst formal theological programmes provide essential education in Christianity and ministry, they do not equip new ministry leaders to navigate the complex adaptive system that is ‘The church’. Upon completion of a formal educational programme, new church leaders are expected to be a leader without having the benefit of ongoing support for their leadership development process. To address this gap, and with the use of Osmer’s heuristic, this article presents a framework of leadership development that draws primary from the business literature and can be adapted to ministry. Given the rough terrain inherent in the 21st century church, the authors of this article hope that this work provides a framework that will increase leadership effectiveness, prolong leadership tenure, and empower churchleaders to foster the Christian worldview both within and outside their flock. Firstly, this article introduces a new framework for leadership development in the 21st century church. Next, we articulate the model and directly apply it to church leadership. We discuss not only issues that currently exist in the church, but also propose interventions that could improve the functionality and effectiveness of the church. We conclude with a list of theory-based activities that, if undertaken, will equip church leaders to utilise the framework proposed in this article.Leierskap as bemagtigings funksie: Op weg na ’n nuwe paradigma vir plaaslikekerkleierskap in die een-en-twintigste eeu. Kerkleierskap bied onverwagte uitdagings vir diegene wat tot die bediening toetree. Terwyl formele teologiese programme wel noodsaaklike opleiding in die Christelike godsdiens en teologie bied, word nuwe toetreders tot die bediening van die komplekse veranderende stelsel van ‘die kerk’ nie na behore toegerus om leiers in die kerk te wees nie. Na die voltooiing van ’n formele opleidingsprogram word van nuwe kerkleiers verwag om ’n leier te wees sonder die hulp van voortgesette ondersteuning vir hulle leierskapsontwikkelingsproses. Om hierdie gaping te oorbrug, bied hierdie artikel ’n raamwerk vir leierskapsontwikkeling. Hierdie raamwerk is hoofsaaklik uit besigheidsliteratuur ontwikkel, maar kan vir die bediening aangepas word. Aangesien die een-en-twintigste-eeuse kerk in ’n onstuimige wêreld moet oorleef, hoop die skrywers van hierdie artikel dat genoemde raamwerk leierskapsdoeltreffendheid sal verhoog, die duur van leierskap sal verleng en kerkleiers sal bemagtig om die Christelike wêreldbeskouing te bevorder, binne sowel as buite hulle gemeentes. Die artikel stel eerstens ’n nuwe raamwerk vir die ontwikkeling van leierskap in die een-en-twintigste-eeuse kerk voor. Vervolgens word die model ontleed en direk op die kerklike leierskap toegepas. Die bespreking handel nie net oor kwessies wat tans in die kerk bestaan nie, maar bemiddelings word ook voorgestel om die funksionaliteit en doeltreffendheid van die kerk te verbeter. Ter afsluiting volg ’n lys teoreties-gebaseerde aktiwiteite wat, indien dit uitgevoer word, kerkleiers sal toerus om die voorgestelde raamwerk effektief te gebruik.

‘Being church’ in today’s world is frought with challenges to traditional practice and contemporaneous opportunities. These challenges, differences, dilemmas and paradoxes, when not handled effectively, have the propensity to escalate into and along a conflict continuum. Conflict can arise at any time within a congregation and needs to be understood and handled theologically. This article addresses some areas within congregations that attract or incubate conflict and provides an overview of related theory of conflict. The research explores current perceptions, understandings and behavioural responses to conflict, personal and corporate experiences and observed outcomes of conflict within congregations. The exploratory study reveals certain disconnects between individual and corporate practice. Congregations in general are biased towards conflict avoidance, peacekeeping and reconciliatory measures – frequently at the expense of long-term resolution. Attaining both resolution and reconciliation appears to be a luxury and not the natural outcome one may expect within Christian fellowship. The perception, understanding and views of most congregants are not aligned to good theological principles and practice. The resultant behaviour mostly observed within congregations does not lead to reconciliation and to a lesser extent resolution. Despite the seemingly high presence of conflict within congregations, no specified education on the understanding, appreciation and handling of conflict in commonly used discipleship resources or dedicated programme was found. The article concludes with a view towards a future praxis of discipleship and leadership, which incorporates the theological understanding and handling of conflict. Broader means of assisting congregations in or post conflict to recovery are also presented.

This article concerns itself with the development of a missional ecclesiology and the practices that may accept the challenge of conducting pastoral ministry in the context of South African, middleclass congregations adapting to a rapidly changing, post-apartheid environment. Some practical theological perspectives on pastoral counselling are investigated, whilst Narrative Therapy is explored as an emerging theory of deconstruction to enable the facilitating of congregational change towards a missional understanding of church life in local communities. Subsequently, the theological paradigm of missional ecclesiology is investigated before drawing the broad lines of a theory for pastoral ministry within missional ecclesiology.Intradisciplinary and/or interdisciplinary implications: In this article, a missional base theory is proposed for pastoral counselling, consisting of interdisciplinary insights gained from the fields of Missiology, Practical Theology, Narrative Therapy and Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. The implications of this proposal for the development of a missional pastoral theory focus on the following three aspects:� re-establishing pastoral identity: exploring Christ� pastoral development: intentional faith formation� pastoral ministry: enabling Christ-centred lives.In such a missional pastoral theory four practices should be operationalised: first of all, a cognitive approach to increasing knowledge of the biblical narrative is necessary. This provides the hermeneutical skills necessary to enable people to internalise the biblical ethics and character traits ascribed to the Christian life. Secondly, a pastoral theory needs to pay close attention to development of emotional intelligence. Thirdly, this should be done in the context of small groups, where the focus falls on the personality development of members. Finally, missional pastoral theory should also include the acquisition of life coaching skills, where leaders can be adequately mentored in their roles as coaches of nonequipped people. In taking the research to a further level of normative reflection, attention should be turned to developing specific areas of pastoral care:� formal clinical education and subsequent accreditation of pastors (in the South African context pastoral care is not legally recognised as a valid area of psychological therapy) � specifically pertaining to Narrative Therapy and cognitive behavioural therapy� basic counselling skills for non-theologically trained congregational leaders� qualitative and quantitative research methods� organisational theory for congregational ministry� crisis counselling skills for congregation members serving in a community context� marriage and family therapy� emotional intelligence as outcome of a spiritual growth cycle� leadership development and personality assessment� personal growth by confronting and crossing emotional and cultural boundaries.

There’s no reason to think that Jesus wouldn’t have Facebooked or twittered if he came into the world now. Can you imagine his killer status updates? Reverend Schenck, New York, All Saints Episcopal Church (Mapes) The fundamental problem of religious communication is how best to represent and mediate the sacred. (O’Leary 787) What would Jesus tweet? Historically, the quest for sacred connections has relied on the mediation of faith communication via technological implements, from the use of the drum to mediate the Divine, to the use of the mechanical clock by monks as reminders to observe the canonical hours of prayer (Mumford). Today, religious communication practices increasingly implicate Web 2.0, or interactive, user-generated content like blogs (Cheong, Halavis & Kwon), and microblogs like “tweets” of no more than 140 characters sent via Web-based applications like text messaging, instant messaging, e-mail, or on the Web. According to the Pew Internet and American Life Project’s latest report in October 2009, 19% of online adults said that they used a microblogging service to send messages from a computer or mobile device to family and friends who have signed up to receive them (Fox, Zickuhr & Smith). The ascendency of microblogging leads to interesting questions of how new media use alters spatio-temporal dynamics in peoples’ everyday consciousness, including ways in which tweeting facilitates ambient religious interactions. The notion of ambient strikes a particularly resonant chord for religious communication: many faith traditions advocate the practice of sacred mindfulness, and a consistent piety in light of holy devotion to an omnipresent and omniscient Divine being. This paper examines how faith believers appropriate the emergent microblogging practices to create an encompassing cultural surround to include microblogging rituals which promote regular, heightened prayer awareness. Faith tweets help constitute epiphany and a persistent sense of sacred connected presence, which in turn rouses an identification of a higher moral purpose and solidarity with other local and global believers. Amidst ongoing tensions about microblogging, religious organisations and their leadership have also begun to incorporate Twitter into their communication practices and outreach, to encourage the extension of presence beyond the church walls. Faith Tweeting and Mobile Mediated Prayers Twitter’s Website describes itself as a new media service that help users communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to the question, “What are you doing?” Some evangelical Christian groups harness these coincident messaging flows to create meaningful pathways for personal, intercessory and synchronised prayer. Using hashtags in a Twitter post creates a community convention or grouping around faith ideas and allows others to access them. Popular faith related hashtags include #twurch (Twitter + church), #prayer, #JIL (Jesus is Lord) and #pray4 (as in, #pray4 my mother). Just as mobile telephony assists distal family members to build “connected presence” (Christensen), I suggest that faith tweets stimulating mobile mediated prayers help build a sense of closeness and “religious connected presence” amongst the distributed family of faith believers, to recreate and reaffirm Divine and corporeal bonds. Consider the Calvin Institute of Worship’s set up of six different Twitter feeds to “pray the hours”. Praying the hours is an ancient practice of praying set prayers throughout certain times of the day, as marked in the Book of Common Prayer in the Christian tradition. Inspired by the Holy Scripture’s injunction to “pray without ceasing” ( 1 Thessalonians 5:17), users can sign up to receive hourly personal or intercessory prayers sent in brief verses or view a Tweetgrid with prayer feeds, to prompt continuous prayer or help those who are unsure of what words to pray. In this way, contemporary believers may reinvent the century-old practice of constant faith mediation as Twitter use helps to reintegrate scripture into people’s daily lives. Faith tweets that goad personal and intercessory prayer also makes ambient religious life salient, and preserves self-awareness of sanctified moments during normal, everyday activities. Furthermore, while the above “praying the hours” performance promotes a specific integration of scripture or prayer into individuals’ daily rhythms, other faith tweets are more focused on evangelism: to reach others through recurrent prayers or random inspirational messages sent throughout the day. For instance, as BBC News reports, religious leaders such as Cardinal Brady, head of Ireland’s Catholic Church, encourage parishioners to use Twitter to spread “the gift of prayer”, as they microblog their daily prayers for their friends and family. Cardinal Brady commented that, “such a sea of prayer is sure to strengthen our sense of solidarity with one another and remind us those who receive them that others really do care" (emphasis mine). Indeed, Cardinal Brady’s observation is instructive to the “Twitness” of faithful microbloggers who desire to shape the blogosphere, and create new faith connections. “JesusTweeters” is a faith-based social networking site, and a service which allows users to send out messages from any random tweet from the Bible Tweet Library, or their own personal messages on a scheduled basis. The site reports that over 500 members of JesusTweeters, each with an average of 500 followers, have signed up to help “spread the Word” worldwide through Twitter. This is an interesting emergent form of Twitter action, as it translates to more than 2.5 million faith tweets being circulated online daily. Moreover, Twitter encourages ‘connected presence’ whereby the use of microblogging enables online faith believers to enjoy an intimate, ‘always on’ virtual presence with their other congregational members during times of physical absence. In the recently released e-book The Reason Your Church Must Twitter, subtitled Making Your Ministry Contagious, author and self-proclaimed ‘technology evangelist’ Anthony Coppedge advocates churches to adopt Twitter as part of their overall communication strategy to maintain relational connectedness beyond the boundaries of established institutional practices. In his book, Coppedge argues that Twitter can be used as a “megaphone” for updates and announcements or as a “conversation” to spur sharing of ideas and prayer exchanges. In line with education scholars who promote Twitter as a pedagogical tool to enhance free-flowing interactions outside of the classroom (Dunlap & Lowenthal), Coppedge encourages pastors to tweet “life application points” from their sermons to their congregational members throughout the week, to reinforce the theme of their Sunday lesson. Ministry leaders are also encouraged to adopt Twitter to “become highly accessible” to members and communicate with their volunteers, in order to build stronger ecumenical relationships. Communication technology scholar Michele Jackson notes that Twitter is a form of visible “lifelogging” as interactants self-disclose their lived-in moments (731). In the case of faith tweets, co-presence is constructed when instantaneous Twitter updates announce new happenings on the church campus, shares prayer requests, confirms details of new events and gives public commendations to celebrate victories of staff members. In this way, microblogging helps to build a portable church where fellow believers can connect to each-other via the thread of frequent, running commentaries of their everyday lives. To further develop ‘connected presence’, a significant number of Churches have also begun to incorporate real-time Twitter streams during their Sunday services. For example, to stimulate congregational members’ sharing of their spontaneous reactions to the movement of the Holy Spirit, Westwind Church in Michigan has created a dozen “Twitter Sundays” where members are free to tweet at any time and at any worship service (Rochman). At Woodlands Church in Houston, a new service was started in 2009 which encourages parishioners to tweet their thoughts, reflections and questions throughout the service. The tweets are reviewed by church staff and they are posted as scrolling visual messages on a screen behind the pastor while he preaches (Patel). It is interesting to note that recurring faith tweets spatially filling the sanctuary screens blurs the visual hierarchies between the pastor as foreground and congregations as background to the degree that tweet voices from the congregation are blended into the church worship service. The interactive use of Twitter also differs from the forms of personal silent meditation and private devotional prayer that, traditionally, most liturgical church services encourage. In this way, key to new organisational practices within religious organisations is what some social commentators are now calling “ambient intimacy”, an enveloping social awareness of one’s social network (Pontin). Indeed, several pastors have acknowledged that faith tweets have enabled them to know their congregational members’ reflections, struggles and interests better and thus they are able to improve their teaching and caring ministry to meet congregants’ evolving spiritual needs (Mapes).Microblogging Rituals and Tweeting Tensions In many ways, faith tweets can be comprehended as microblogging rituals which have an ambient quality in engendering individuals’ spiritual self and group consciousness. The importance of examining emergent cyber-rituals is underscored by Stephen O’Leary in his 1996 seminal article on Cyberspace as Sacred Space. Writing in an earlier era of digital connections, O’Leary discussed e-mail and discussion forum cyber-rituals and what ritual gains in the virtual environment aside from its conventional physiological interactions. Drawing from Walter Ong’s understanding of the “secondary orality” accompanying the shift to electronic media, he argued that cyber-ritual as performative utterances restructure and reintegrate the minds and emotions of their participants, such that they are more aware of their interior self and a sense of communal group membership. Here, the above illustrative examples show how Twitter functions as the context for contemporary, mediated ritual practices to help believers construct a connected presence and affirm their religious identities within an environment where wired communication is a significant part of everyday life. To draw from Walter Ong’s words, microblogging rituals create a new textual and visual “sensorium” that has insightful implications for communication and media scholars. Faith tweeting by restructuring believers’ consciousness and generating a heightened awareness of relationship between the I, You and the Thou opens up possibilities for community building and revitalised religiosity to counteract claims of secularisation in technologically advanced and developed countries. “Praying the hours” guided by scripturally inspired faith tweets, for example, help seekers and believers experience epiphany and practice their faith in a more holistic way as they de-familarize mundane conditions and redeem a sense of the sacred from their everyday surrounds. Through the intermittent sharing of intercessory prayer tweets, faithful followers enact prayer chains and perceive themselves to be immersed in invariable spiritual battle to ward off evil ideology or atheistic beliefs. Moreover, the erosion of the authority of the church is offset by changed leadership practices within religious organisations which have experimented and actively incorporated Twitter into their daily institutional practices. To the extent that laity are willing to engage, creative practices to encourage congregational members to tweet during and after the service help revivify communal sentiments and a higher moral purpose through identification and solidarity with clergy leaders and other believers. Yet this ambience has its possible drawbacks as some experience tensions in their perception and use of Twitter as new technology within the church. Microblogging rituals may have negative implications for individual believers and religious organisations as they can weaken or pervert the existing relational links. As Pauline Cheong and Jessie Poon have pointed out, use of the Internet within religious organisations may bring about an alternative form of “perverse religious social capital building” as some clergy view that online communication detracts from real time relations and physical rituals. Indeed, some religious leaders have already articulated their concerns about Twitter and new tensions they experience in balancing the need to engage with new media audiences and the need for quiet reflection that spiritual rites such as confession of sins and the Holy Communion entail. According to the critics of faith tweeting, microblogging is time consuming and contributes to cognitive overload by taking away one’s attention to what is noteworthy at the moment. For Pastor Hayes of California for example, Twitter distracts his congregation’s focus on the sermon and thus he only recommends his members to tweet after the service. In an interview with the Houston Chronicle, he said: “If two people are talking at the same time, somebody’s not listening”, and “You cannot do two things at once and expect you’re not going to miss something” (Patel). Furthermore, similar to prior concerns voiced with new technologies, there are concerns over inappropriate tweet content that can comprise of crudity, gossip, malevolent and hate messages, which may be especially corrosive to faith communities that strive to model virtues like love, temperance and truth-telling (Vitello). In turn, some congregational members are also experiencing frustrations as they negotiate church boundaries and other members’ disapproval of their tweeting practices during service and church events. Censure of microblogging has taken the form of official requests for tweeting members to leave the sanctuary, to less formal social critique and the application of peer pressure to halt tweeting during religious proceedings and activities (Mapes). As a result of these connectivity tensions, varying recommendations have been recently published as fresh efforts to manage religious communication taking place in ambience. For instance, Coppedge recommends every tweeting church to include Twitter usage in their “church communications policy” to promote accountability within the organisation. The policy should include guidelines against excessive use of Twitter as spam, and for at least one leader to subscribe and monitor every Twitter account used. Furthermore, the Interpreter magazine of the United Methodist Church worldwide featured recommendations by Rev. Safiyah Fosua who listed eight important attributes for pastors wishing to incorporate Twitter during their worship services (Rice). These attributes are: highly adaptive; not easily distracted; secure in their presentation style; not easily taken aback when people appear to be focused on something other than listenin; into quality rather than volume; not easily rattled by things that are new; secure enough as a preacher to let God work through whatever is tweeted even if it is not the main points of the sermon; and carried on the same current the congregation is travelling on. For the most part, these attributes underscore how successful (read wired) contemporary religious leaders should be tolerant of ambient religious communication and of blurring hierarchies of information control when faced with microblogging and the “inexorable advance of multimodal connectedness” (Schroeder 1). To conclude, the rise of faith tweeting opens up a new portal to investigate accretive changes to culture as microblogging rituals nurture piety expressed in continuous prayer, praise and ecclesial updates. The emergent Twitter sensorium demonstrates the variety of ways in which religious adherents appropriate new media within the ken and tensions of their daily lives. References BBC News. “Twitter Your Prayer says Cardinal.” 27 April 2009. ‹http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/uk_news/northern_ireland/8020285.stm›. Cheong, P.H., A. Halavis and K. Kwon. “The Chronicles of Me: Understanding Blogging as a Religious Practice. Journal of Media and Religion 7 (2008): 107-131. Cheong, P.H., and J.P.H. Poon. “‘WWW.Faith.Org’: (Re)structuring Communication and Social Capital Building among Religious Organizations.” Information, Communication and Society 11.1 (2008): 89-110. Christensen, Toke Haunstrup. “‘Connected Presence’ in Distributed Family Life.” New Media and Society 11 (2009): 433-451. Coppedge, Anthony. “The Reason Your Church Must Twitter: Making Your Ministry Contagious.” 2009. ‹http://www.twitterforchurches.com/›. Dunlap, Joanna, and Patrick Lowenthal. “Tweeting the Night Away: Using Twitter to Enhance Social Presence.” Journal of Information Systems Education 20.2 (2009): 129-135. Fox, Susannah, Kathryn Zickuhr, and Aaron Smith. “Twitter and Status Updating" Pew Internet & American Life Project, 2009. Oct. 2009 ‹http://www.pewinternet.org/~/media//Files/Reports/2009/PIP_Twitter_Fall_2009_web.pdf›. Jackson, Michele. “The Mash-Up: A New Archetype for Communication.” Journal of Computer-Mediated Communication 14.3 (2009): 730-734. Mapes, Diane. “Holy Twitter! Tweeting from the Pews.” 2009. 3 June 2009 ‹http://www.nbcwashington.com/.../Holy_Twitter__Tweeting_from_the_pews.html›. Mumford, Lewis. Technics and Civilization. New York: Harcourt, 1934. Patel, Purva. “Tweeting during Church Services Gets Blessing of Pastors.” Houston Chronicle (2009). 10 Oct. 2009 ‹http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/6662287.html›. O’Leary, Stephen. ”Cyberspace as Sacred Space: Communicating Religion on Computer Networks.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 64.4 (1996): 781-808. Pontin, Jason. “Twitter and Ambient Intimacy: How Evan Williams Helped Create the New Social Medium of Microblogging.” MIT Review 2007. 15 Nov. 2009 ‹http://www.technologyreview.com/communications/19713/?a=f›. Rice, Kami. “The New Worship Question: To Tweet or Not to Tweet.” Interpreter Magazine (Nov.-Dec. 2009). ‹http://www.interpretermagazine.org/interior.asp?ptid=43&mid=13871›. Rochman, Bonnie. “Twittering in Church, with the Pastor’s O.K.” Time 3 May 2009. ‹http://www.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1895463,00.html›. Schroeder, Ralph. “Mobile Phones and the Inexorable Advance of Multimodal Connectedness.” New Media and Society 12.1 (2010): 75-90. Vitello, Paul. “Lead Us to Tweet, and Forgive the Trespassers.” New York Times 5 July 2009. ‹http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/05/technology/internet/05twitter.html›.

“People live here, they die here so they must leave traces.” (Read 140) “Whatever colonialism was and is, it has made this place unsettling and unsettled.” (Gibson, Badland 2) Introduction What does it mean for [a] country to be haunted? In much theoretical work in film and Cultural Studies since the 1990s, the Australian continent, more often than not, bears traces of long suppressed traumas which inevitably resurface to haunt the present (Gelder and Jacobs; Gibson; Read; Collins and Davis). Felicity Collins and Therese Davis illuminate the ways Australian cinema acts as a public sphere, or “vernacular modernity,” for rethinking settler/indigenous relations. Their term “backtracking” serves as a mode of “collective mourning” in numerous films of the last decade which render unspoken colonial violence meaningful in contemporary Australia, and account for the “aftershocks” of the Mabo decision that overturned the founding fiction of terra nullius (7). Ray Lawrence’s 2006 film Jindabyne is another after-Mabo film in this sense; its focus on conflict within settler/indigenous relations in a small local town in the alpine region explores a traumatised ecology and drowned country. More than this, in our paper’s investigation of country and its attendant politics, Jindabyne country is the space of excessive haunting and resurfacing - engaging in the hard work of what Gibson (Transformations) has termed “historical backfill”, imaginative speculations “that make manifest an urge to account for the disconnected fragments” of country. Based on an adaptation by Beatrix Christian of the Raymond Carver story, So Much Water, So Close to Home, Jindabyne centres on the ethical dilemma produced when a group of fishermen find the floating, murdered body of a beautiful indigenous woman on a weekend trip, but decide to stay on and continue fishing. In Jindabyne, “'country' […] is made to do much discursive work” (Gorman-Murray). In this paper, we use the word as a metonym for the nation, where macro-political issues are played out and fought over. But we also use ‘country’ to signal the ‘wilderness’ alpine areas that appear in Jindabyne, where country is “a notion encompassing nature and human obligation that white Australia has learned slowly from indigenous Australia” (Gibson, Badland 178). This meaning enables a slippage between ‘land’ and ‘country’. Our discussion of country draws heavily on concepts from Ross Gibson’s theorisation of badlands. Gibson claims that originally, ‘badland’ was a term used by Europeans in North America when they came across “a tract of country that would not succumb to colonial ambition” (Badland 14). Using Collins and Davis’s “vernacular modernity” as a starting point, a film such as Jindabyne invites us to work through the productive possibilities of postcolonial haunting; to move from backtracking (going over old ground) to imaginative backfill (where holes and gaps in the ground are refilled in unconventional and creative returns to the past). Jindabyne (as place and filmic space) signifies “the special place that the Australian Alps occupy for so many Australians”, and the film engages in the discursive work of promoting “shared understanding” and the possibility of both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal being “in country” (Baird, Egloff and Lebehan 35). We argue specifically that Jindabyne is a product of “aftermath culture” (Gibson Transformations); a culture living within the ongoing effects of the past, where various levels of filmic haunting make manifest multiple levels of habitation, in turn the product of numerous historical and physical aftermaths. Colonial history, environmental change, expanding wire towers and overflowing dams all lend meaning in the film to personal dilemmas, communal conflict and horrific recent crimes. The discovery of a murdered indigenous woman in water high in the mountains lays bare the fragility of a relocated community founded in the drowning of the town of old Jindabyne which created Lake Jindabyne. Beatrix Christian (in Trbic 61), the film’s writer, explains “everybody in the story is haunted by something. […] There is this group of haunted people, and then you have the serial killer who emerges in his season to create havoc.” “What’s in this compulsion to know the negative space?” asks Gibson (Badland 14). It’s the desire to better know and more deeply understand where we live. And haunting gives us cause to investigate further. Drowned, Murderous Country Jindabyne rewrites “the iconic wilderness of Australia’s High Country” (McHugh online) and replaces it with “a vast, historical crime scene” (Gibson, Badland 2). Along with nearby Adaminaby, the township of Old Jindabyne was drowned and its inhabitants relocated to the new town in the 1960s as part of the Snowy Mountains Hydro-electric Scheme. When Jindabyne was made in 2006 the scheme no longer represented an uncontested example of Western technological progress ‘taming’ the vast mountainous country. Early on in the film a teacher shows a short documentary about the town’s history in which Old Jindabyne locals lament the houses that will soon be sacrificed to the Snowy River’s torrents. These sentiments sit in opposition to Manning Clark’s grand vision of the scheme as “an inspiration to all who dream dreams about Australia” (McHugh online). With a 100,000-strong workforce, mostly migrated from war-ravaged Europe, the post-war Snowy project took 25 years and was completed in 1974. Such was this engineering feat that 121 workmen “died for the dream, of turning the rivers back through the mountains, to irrigate the dry inland” (McHugh online). Jindabyne re-presents this romantic narrative of progress as nothing less than an environmental crime. The high-tension wires scar the ‘pristine’ high country and the lake haunts every aspect of the characters’ interactions, hinting at the high country’s intractability that will “not succumb to colonial ambition” (Gibson, Badland 14). Describing his critical excavation of places haunted, out-of-balance or simply badlands, Gibson explains: Rummaging in Australia's aftermath cultures, I try to re-dress the disintegration in our story-systems, in our traditional knowledge caches, our landscapes and ecologies […] recuperate scenes and collections […] torn by landgrabbing, let's say, or by accidents, or exploitation that ignores rituals of preservation and restoration (Transformations). Tourism is now the predominant focus of Lake Jindabyne and the surrounding areas but in the film, as in history, the area does not “succumb to the temptations of pictorialism” (McFarlane 10), that is, it cannot be framed solely by the picture postcard qualities that resort towns often engender and promote. Jindabyne’s sense of menace signals the transformation of the landscape that has taken place – from ‘untouched’ to country town, and from drowned old town to the relocated, damned and electrified new one. Soon after the opening of the film, a moment of fishing offers a reminder that a town once existed beneath the waters of the eerily still Lake Jindabyne. Hooking a rusty old alarm clock out of the lake, Stuart explains to Tom, his suitably puzzled young son: underneath the water is the town where all the old men sit in rocking chairs and there’s houses and shops. […] There was a night […] I heard this noise — boing, boing, boing. And it was a bell coming from under the water. ‘Cause the old church is still down there and sometimes when the water’s really low, you can see the tip of the spire. Jindabyne’s lake thus functions as “a revelation of horrors past” (Gibson Badland 2). It’s not the first time this man-made lake is filmically positioned as a place where “violence begins to seem natural” (Gibson, Badland 13). Cate Shortland’s Somersault (2004) also uses Lake Jindabyne and its surrounds to create a bleak and menacing ambience that heightens young Heidi’s sense of alienation (Simpson, ‘Reconfiguring rusticity’). In Somersault, the male-dominated Jindabyne is far from welcoming for the emotionally vulnerable out-of-towner, who is threatened by her friend’s father beside the Lake, then menaced again by boys she meets at a local pub. These scenes undermine the alpine region’s touristic image, inundated in the summer with tourists coming to fish and water ski, and likewise, with snow skiers in the winter. Even away from the Lake, there is no fleeing its spectre. “The high-tension wires marching down the hillside from the hydro-station” hum to such an extent that in one scene, “reminiscent of Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975)”, a member of the fishing party is spooked (Ryan 52). This violence wrought upon the landscape contextualises the murder of the young indigenous woman, Susan, by Greg, an electrician who after murdering Susan, seems to hover in the background of several scenes of the film. Close to the opening of Jindabyne, through binoculars from his rocky ridge, Greg spots Susan’s lone car coursing along the plain; he chases her in his vehicle, and forces her to stop. Before (we are lead to assume) he drags her from the vehicle and murders her, he rants madly through her window, “It all comes down from the power station, the electricity!” That the murder/murderer is connected with the hydro-electric project is emphasised by the location scout in the film’s pre-production: We had one location in the scene where Greg dumps the body in some water and Ray [Lawrence] had his heart set on filming that next to some huge pipelines on a dam near Talbingo but Snowy Hydro didn’t […] like that negative content […] in association with their facility and […] said ‘no’ they wouldn’t let us do it.” (Jindabyne DVD extras) “Tales of murder and itinerancy in wild country are as old as the story of Cain in the killing fields of Eden” (Badlands 14). In Jindabyne we never really get to meet Greg but he is a familiar figure in Australian film and culture. Like many before him, he is the lone Road Warrior, a ubiquitous white male presence roaming the de-populated country where the road constantly produces acts of (accidental and intentional) violence (Simpson, ‘Antipodean Automobility’). And after a litany of murders in recent films such as Wolf Creek (Greg McLean, 2005) and Gone (Ringan Ledwidge, 2007) the “violence begins to seem natural” (Gibson Transformations 13) in the isolating landscape. The murderer in Jindabyne, unlike those who have migrated here as adults (the Irish Stuart and his American wife, Claire), is autochthonous in a landscape familiar with a trauma that cannot remain hidden or submerged. Contested High Country The unsinkability of Susan’s body, now an ‘indigenous murdered body’, holds further metaphorical value for resurfacing as a necessary component of aftermath culture. Such movement is not always intelligible within non-indigenous relations to country, though the men’s initial response to the body frames its drifting in terms of ascension: they question whether they have “broken her journey by tying her up”. The film reconfigures terra nullius as the ultimate badland, one that can never truly suppress continuing forms of physical, spiritual, historical and cultural engagement with country, and the alpine areas of Jindabyne and the Snowy River in particular. Lennon (14) points to “the legacy of biased recording and analysis” that “constitutes a threat to the cultural significance of Aboriginal heritage in alpine areas” (15). This significance is central to the film, prompting Lawrence to state that “mountains in any country have a spiritual quality about them […] in Aboriginal culture the highest point in the landscape is the most significant and this is the highest point of our country” (in Cordaiy 40). So whilst the Jindabyne area is contested country, it is the surfacing, upward mobility and unsinkable quality of Aboriginal memory that Brewster argues “is unsettling the past in post-invasion Australia” (in Lambert, Balayi 7). As the agent of backfill, the indigenous body (Susan) unsettles Jindabyne country by offering both evidence of immediate violence and reigniting the memory of it, before the film can find even the smallest possibility of its characters being ‘in country’. Claire illustrates her understanding of this in a conversation with her young son, as she attempts to contact the dead girls’ family. “When a bad thing happens,” she says, “we all have to do a good thing, no matter how small, alright? Otherwise the bad things, they just pile up and up and up.” Her persistent yet clumsy enactment of the cross-cultural go-between illuminates the ways “the small town community move through the terms of recent debate: shame and denial, repressed grief and paternalism” (Ryan 53). It is the movement of backfill within the aftermath: The movement of a foreign non-Aboriginal woman into Aboriginal space intertextually re-animates the processes of ‘settlement’, resolution and environmental assimilation for its still ‘unsettled’ white protagonists. […] Claire attempts an apology to the woman’s family and the Aboriginal community – in an Australia before Kevin Rudd where official apologies for the travesties of Australian/colonial history had not been forthcoming […] her movement towards reconciliation here is reflective of the ‘moral failure’ of a disconnection from Aboriginal history. (Lambert, Diasporas) The shift from dead white girl in Carver’s story to young Aboriginal woman speaks of a political focus on the ‘significance’ of the alpine region at a given moment in time. The corpse functions “as the trigger for crisis and panic in an Australia after native title, the stolen generation and the war-on-terror” (Lambert, Diasporas). The process of reconnecting with country and history must confront its ghosts if the community is to move forward. Gibson (Transformations) argues that “if we continue to close our imaginations to the aberrations and insufficiencies in our historical records. […] It’s likely we won’t dwell in the joy till we get real about the darkness.” In the post-colonial, multicultural but still divided geographies and cultures of Jindabyne, “genocidal displacement” comes face to face with the “irreconciled relation” to land “that refuses to remain half-seen […] a measure of non-indigenous failure to move from being on the land to being in country” (Ryan 52), evidenced by water harvesting in the Snowy Mountains Scheme, and the more recent crises in water and land management. Aftermath Country Haunted by historical, cultural and environmental change, Jindabyne constitutes a post-traumatic screen space. In aftermath culture, bodies and landscapes offer the “traces” (Gibson, Transformations) of “the social consequences” of a “heritage of catastrophe” that people “suffer, witness, or even perpetrate” so that “the legacy of trauma is bequeathed” (Walker i). The youth of Jindabyne are charged with traumatic heritage. The young Susan’s body predictably bears the semiotic weight of colonial atrocity and non-indigenous environmental development. Evidence of witnesses, perpetrators and sufferers is still being revealed after the corpse is taken to the town morgue, where Claire (in a culturally improper viewing) is horrified by Susan’s marks from being secured in the water by Stuart and the other men. Other young characters are likewise haunted by a past that is environmental and tragically personal. Claire and Stuart’s young son, Tom (left by his mother for a period in early infancy and the witness of his parents strained marital relations), has an intense fear of drowning. This personal/historical fear is played with by his seven year old friend, Caylin-Calandria, who expresses her own grief from the death of her young mother environmentally - by escaping into the surrounding nature at night, by dabbling in the dark arts and sacrificing small animals. The two characters “have a lot to believe in and a lot of things to express – belief in zombies and ghosts, ritual death, drowning” (Cordaiy 42). As Boris Trbic (64) observes of the film’s characters, “communal and familial harmony is closely related to their intense perceptions of the natural world and their often distorted understanding of the ways their partners, friends and children cope with the grieving process.” Hence the legacy of trauma in Jindabyne is not limited to the young but pervades a community that must deal with unresolved ecologies no longer concealed by watery artifice. Backfilling works through unsettled aspects of country by moving, however unsteadily, toward healing and reconciliation. Within the aftermath of colonialism, 9/11 and the final years of the Howard era, Jindabyne uses race and place to foreground the “fallout” of an indigenous “condemnation to invisibility” and the “long years of neglect by the state” (Ryan 52). Claire’s unrelenting need to apologise to the indigenous family and Stuart’s final admission of impropriety are key gestures in the film’s “microcosm of reconciliation” (53), when “the notion of reconciliation, if it had occupied any substantial space in the public imagination, was largely gone” (Rundell 44). Likewise, the invisibility of Aboriginal significance has specificity in the Jindabyne area – indigeneity is absent from narratives recounting the Snowy Mountains Scheme which “recruited some 60,000 Europeans,” providing “a basis for Australia’s postwar multicultural society” (Lennon 15); both ‘schemes’ evidencing some of the “unrecognised implications” of colonialism for indigenous people (Curthoys 36). The fading of Aboriginal issues from public view and political discourse in the Howard era was serviced by the then governmental focus on “practical reconciliation” (Rundell 44), and post 9/11 by “the broad brushstrokes of western coalition and domestic political compliance” (Lambert, CMC 252), with its renewed focus on border control, and increased suspicion of non-Western, non-Anglo-European difference. Aftermath culture grapples with the country’s complicated multicultural and globalised self-understanding in and beyond Howard’s Australia and Jindabyne is one of a series of texts, along with “refugee plays” and Australian 9/11 novels, “that mobilised themselves against the Howard government” (Rundell 43-44). Although the film may well be seen as a “profoundly embarrassing” display of left-liberal “emotional politics” (44-45), it is precisely these politics that foreground aftermath: local neglect and invisibility, terror without and within, suspect American leadership and shaky Australian-American relations, the return of history through marked bodies and landscapes. Aftermath country is simultaneously local and global – both the disappearance and the ‘problem’ of Aboriginality post-Mabo and post-9/11 are backfilled by the traces and fragments of a hidden country that rises to the surface. Conclusion What can be made of this place now? What can we know about its piecemeal ecology, its choppy geomorphics and scarified townscapes? […] What can we make of the documents that have been generated in response to this country? (Gibson, Transformations). Amidst the apologies and potentialities of settler-indigenous recognition, the murdering electrician Gregory is left to roam the haunted alpine wilderness in Jindabyne. His allegorical presence in the landscape means there is work to be done before this badland can truly become something more. Gibson (Badland 178) suggests country gets “called bad […] partly because the law needs the outlaw for reassuring citizens that the unruly and the unknown can be named and contained even if they cannot be annihilated.” In Jindabyne the movement from backtracking to backfilling (as a speculative and fragmental approach to the bodies and landscapes of aftermath culture) undermines the institutional framing of country that still seeks to conceal shared historical, environmental and global trauma. The haunting of Jindabyne country undoes the ‘official’ production of outlaw/negative space and its discursively good double by realising the complexity of resurfacing – electricity is everywhere and the land is “uncanny” not in the least because “the town of Jindabyne itself is the living double of the drowned original” (Ryan 53). The imaginative backfill of Jindabyne reorients a confused, purgatorial Australia toward the “small light of home” (53) – the hope of one day being “in country,” and as Gibson (Badland 3) suggests, the “remembering,” that is “something good we can do in response to the bad in our lands.” References Baird, Warwick, Brian Egloff and Rachel Lenehan. “Sharing the mountains: joint management of Australia’s alpine region with Aboriginal people.” historic environment 17.2 (2003): 32-36. Collins, Felicity and Therese Davis. Australian Cinema after Mabo. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2005. Cordaiy, Hunter. “Man, Woman and Death: Ray Lawrence on Jindabyne.” Metro 149 (2006): 38-42. Curthoys, Anne. “An Uneasy Conversation: The Multicultural and the Indigenous.” Race Colour and Identity in Australia and New Zealand. Ed. John Docker and Gerhard Fischer. Sydney, UNSW P, 2000. 21-36. Gelder, Ken and Jane M. Jacobs. Uncanny Australia: Sacredness an Identity in a Postcolonial Nation. 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