{"id":551,"date":"2011-03-01T07:00:56","date_gmt":"2011-03-01T07:00:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/practicalmattersjournal.ecdsdev.org\/?p=551"},"modified":"2015-09-26T16:41:11","modified_gmt":"2015-09-26T20:41:11","slug":"checking-vitals","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pmcleanup.ecdsdev.org\/2011\/03\/01\/checking-vitals\/","title":{"rendered":"Checking Vitals: The Theological (Im)Pulse of Christian Leadership in Global Health"},"content":{"rendered":"
Download PDF:\u00a0Braley, Checking Vitals<\/a><\/p>\n In the past decade, global health leaders have begun to speak about Christian religious entities as \u201cvital partners\u201d in the response to global health crises like the AIDS pandemic. These partnerships, however, are predicated on a particular understanding of the value-added contribution of religious entities to global health programs. The assessment of religion\u2019s value often ignores one of the most vital and vitalizing dimensions of Christianity: constructive theological reflection. Christian religious entities are welcomed in a supporting role as long as their beliefs and practices support, or can be translated into, existing paradigms in global health. This article recovers part of the history of Christian leadership in global health to show how intentional processes of theological reflection enabled Christians to play a leading role in the paradigm-shifting primary health care movement. James Gustafson\u2019s \u201cparticipant theologian\u201d is introduced as an analytical frame for understanding the active participation of Christian leaders in this particular history.<\/em><\/p>\n In May 2008 a small conference took place in Buckeystown, Maryland. The fine print on the conference flier highlights a prominent role for \u201cPeople of Faith\u201d in helping others to navigate this intersection:<\/p>\n Please join us as we celebrate the unique and important role that the faith community can play in providing quality health care at the community level\u2026[W]e will review past and current community health efforts, and we will end the conference with a Call to Action to People of Faith to embrace their mantle of leadership in the global revival of community-based health care.[1]<\/a><\/p>\n Two aspects of this promotional flier suggest something important about current understandings of the relationship between religion and public health. First, \u201cPeople of Faith\u201d are identified not merely as participants but as\u00a0leaders<\/em>\u00a0in the \u201cglobal revival of community-based health care.\u201d Second, this leadership is predicated, in part, on the ability to provide \u201cquality health care at the community level.\u201d That is, faith communities are recognized for the value they contribute to the actual practices of healthcare at the community level.<\/p>\n The leadership of faith communities in health and the quality of health care they provide is, of course, not new. The conference theme, \u201cCommunity Health and Wholeness,\u201d taps into the longer history of theological and ethical participation in community-based health initiatives. This article recovers a unique part of that history as a way of gaining critical leverage on the limits of existing forms of Christian participation and leadership in contemporary global health crises.<\/p>\n The first section identifies the practical reasons global health leaders have turned to religious entities as partners in the face of persistent and pervasive global health crises. The middle sections focus on how theological reflection on a crisis in Christian medical missions proved catalytic for new ways of thinking about health and human flourishing and the specific practices of global health that support them. The final section develops James Gustafson\u2019s concept of the participant theologian in order first to clarify the role of theology in the story of the CMC and, second, to highlight the possibility of an expanded understanding of Christian leadership in the response to contemporary global health issues.<\/p>\n Global health institutions are actively pursuing partnerships with religious entities that exist at all levels, including the community (e.g., traditional healers), the national (e.g., Christian Health Associations), and the global (e.g., Lutheran World Federation).[2]<\/a> Identification of religion as a \u201cvital partner\u201d in global health raises important questions about what the participation of religious entities looks like in global health policy debates and programs.[3]<\/a> What, if anything, do religious entities contribute as partners in global health?<\/p>\n Partnerships with religion may simply be pragmatic. According to this line of thinking, interest in religious entities as vital partners is predicated on two related observations by global health leaders: 1) health-seeking behaviors informed by religion or notions of the sacred persist in many communities facing some of the most entrenched health issues, and 2) religious entities have (and are) resources that can be used to promote health in a community.[4]<\/a> The example of the global response to the HIV pandemic illustrates how these two observations inform global health leaders\u2019 understanding of how religious entities contribute to more effective prevention, promotion, and treatment campaigns.<\/p>\n Public health professionals have long-recognized that the effectiveness of their prevention campaigns requires sensitivity to cultural dimensions of the target population. It follows, then, that as part of culture, religious beliefs and practices need to be taken into account when devising HIV prevention strategies. For example, ongoing efforts to promote safe forms of male circumcision as a strategy for reducing the transmission of HIV confront resistance from community members who see the traditional methods of male circumcision as a religiously resonant rite of passage vital to maintaining the identity of the community.[5]<\/a><\/p>\n With regards to the second observation about religious entities as a resource, a network of scholars affiliated with the African Religious Health Assets Program (ARHAP) has documented in many communities throughout sub-Saharan Africa the presence of \u201ctangible religious health assets.\u201d The tangible assets that can be leveraged by global health actors include buildings for HIV testing and counseling, personnel for visiting persons living with HIV and AIDS (PLWHA), as well as other forms of material support.[6]<\/a> Religious entities also possess what ARHAP calls \u201cintangible assets,\u201d defined as \u201cvolitional, motivational, and mobilizing capacities that are rooted in vital affective, symbolic, and relational dimensions of religious faith, belief, behavior, and ties.\u201d[7]<\/a> These, too, are being leveraged in global health programs.[8]<\/a><\/p>\n Minimally, partnerships with religious entities require acknowledgment that religion matters to global health.[9]<\/a> A growing body of literature offers evidence of how, specifically, religious entities matter to global health programs.[10]<\/a> In the example of male circumcision, above, sensitivity to religion becomes a particular instance of an overall commitment to global health\u2019s professed sensitivity to cultural particularity in designing interventions and responses. In the ARHAP example, research describing and mapping the religious health assets of a community is used as \u201cdata\u201d for making global health policies related to HIV and AIDS more effective.<\/p>\n According to this literature, the work ahead consists primarily of 1) aligning the assets of religious entities with existing and emerging programs and strategies in the response to HIV and AIDS;[11]<\/a>\u00a02) developing a working lexicon and mediating structures for persons working at the intersection of religion and health;[12]<\/a> 3) understanding more fully the plural worldviews that influence the health-seeking behaviors of diverse populations;[13]<\/a> and 4) finding new ways to operationalize the value of religion, including intangible assets like hope (e.g., metrics for the impact of hope on health outcomes).[14]<\/a> Ultimately, the success of this work will be determined by the potential of partnerships to generate improved health outcomes in a given population.<\/p>\n But much of this work and the forms of partnerships with religious entities it has encouraged obscure a constitutive dimension of religious activity: critical theological reflection.[15]<\/a> To state the problem succinctly, global health leaders recognize partnerships with religious entities as necessary, but the valuation of those partnerships threatens to render critical theological reflection unnecessary. Theology is a cheerleader but never a constructive critic. Partnerships are formed on the basis of selective engagement with dimensions of religion that are 1) supportive of existing practices in global health and 2) easily transposable into the dominant institutional logics of global health. As such, the value of religion in the response to global health is limited to the activities of informing and conforming. From the perspective of Christian ethics, these limits crowd out one of Christianity\u2019s most distinctive activities:\u00a0transforming<\/em>\u00a0the world\u2014an activity shot through with ongoing, critical theological reflection.<\/p>\n Religious beliefs and practices can\u00a0inform<\/em>\u00a0global health programming, providing, for example, a better understanding of the cultural obstacles that global health programs may encounter on the ground. At the same time, the various health assets of religious entities can be\u00a0conformed<\/em>\u00a0to, or aligned with, existing health programs. For example, global health leaders view church buildings as a potential religious health asset since the building can be set up as a site for an HIV testing clinic, an especially important asset in areas where public health clinics are few and far between. Note that while the commitment to provide church space for testing may have resulted from a process of theological reflection within the church, this is different from critical theological reflection as part of a wider conversation about the purposes and prospects of global health policies. As long as the internal processes of theological reflection result in religious activities that support, or conform to, existing global health policies, religious entities are welcomed as vital partners. But this is to miss a significant dimension of what makes many religious entities vital: a commitment to and space for ongoing theological reflection about what constitutes human flourishing.<\/p>\n The following history of the theological impulses that gave rise to Christian Medical Commission and the primary health care movement provides evidence of religious entities transforming fundamental commitments within global health. In so doing, the history suggests a reason for why global health leaders today should pay attention to processes of theological reflection as part of what makes partnerships with religious entities vital.<\/p>\n The story of Christianity and health care dates back to the early church as Jesus\u2019s disciples continued to preach and practice his distinctive healing ministry. The following case study of the origins of the Christian Medical Commission illustrates how this distinctive healing ministry was \u201crediscovered\u201d and given new institutional form at two mid-twentieth century gatherings of theologians and medical missionaries in T\u00fcbingen, Germany.[16]<\/a><\/p>\n In 1962 the Lutheran World Federation (LWF) and World Council of Churches\u2019 Division of World Mission and Evangelism initiated a joint study process on the \u201cessential issues\u201d of medical missions.[17]<\/a> Intentionally modest in scope, the two world bodies sought the advice of a small group, constituted primarily by medical doctors, on the appropriate role of the LWF and WCC in responding to the perceived challenges facing medical missions. Preparatory papers focused on different conceptions of and contexts for healing, from the pre-scientific to modern medicine and from the congregation to the mission field.[18]<\/a><\/p>\n The study participants gathered in 1964 in T\u00fcbingen, Germany. By the end of the week, the members of the consultation, much to their own surprise and that of the planners, had moved\u2014 or to echo the tenor of the participants,\u00a0had been moved<\/em>\u2014from reflection to proclamation.[19]<\/a> The findings of the consultation found expression in the \u201cStatement on the Christian Concept of the Healing Ministry of the Church,\u201d understood by participants and subsequent generations of Christian health workers as a fundamental challenge to the two-fold task of medical missions: meeting physical needs and preaching the Gospel.[20]<\/a> The statement reconfirmed in language both theological and practical that the Christian Church has a\u00a0distinctive<\/em>\u00a0role to play in healing. While acknowledging that Christians involved in health work express similar ethical commitments as non-Christians, e.g., compassion, a concern for the dignity of individuals, etc., the statement makes explicit the relationship between healing and the Christian drama of salvation history.<\/p>\n Theologically, healing bears witness to the \u201cbreaking into human life of the powers of the Kingdom of God, and [to] the dethroning of the powers of evil.\u201d[21]<\/a> Such an incarnational view of healing is intended as an invitation for the \u201cpriesthood of all believers\u201d to become a priesthood of all healers, actively responding to the spiritual as well as physical dimensions of suffering.[22]<\/a><\/p>\n The participants at what would eventually be referred to as \u201cT\u00fcbingen I\u201d articulated an eschatological etiology of disease in which disease is a \u201csign for a world awaiting salvation\u201d and \u201chealing represents the defeat of transpersonal evil that contradicts the original good intention of God for all human beings.\u201d[23]<\/a> The eschatological frame is more accurately described as a shift in emphasis from \u201cbroken\u201d individuals in need of fixing to a broken world in need of healing\u2014physically as well as spiritually. Practically, this is embodied by a medical missionary who sees his role not as an evangelist but as a witness to a Christian theological understanding of history in which the dialectic between sin and salvation finds this-worldly expression in the breaking and healing of relationships\u2014with God, others, and one\u2019s self.<\/p>\n In this framing, health is understood as an eschatological concept. It is never achieved, but as David Jenkins, one of the key interlocutors in the Christian Medical Commission\u2019s early discussions, describes, health \u201cis what God promises and offers in the end . . . [it is] what is available now both in foretastes and as the aim and ideal which judges our current activities and structures while at the same time provoking us to more healthy responses.\u201d[24]<\/a> The work of Jenkins and James McGilvray to develop an eschatological idea of health both highlights and toes the line between the Western missionary medicine and Christian healing that had been drawn at T\u00fcbingen I. It highlights the line in its invitation to think of health as a \u201cvision of possibilities\u201d that cannot be reduced to the \u201cpossibilities or failures of medicine.\u201d[25]<\/a> It toes the line in its insistence that medicine is a service profession and should be \u201cmore widely and directly available to all suffering human beings.\u201d[26]<\/a> This, ultimately, is a call for a\u00a0reorientation<\/em>, not a rejection, of Western medicine.<\/p>\n The concern for a Christian understanding of healing at T\u00fcbingen I could, if taken in certain other-worldly directions, call into question the grounds on which hospitals and clinics were deemed necessary.[27]<\/a> But T\u00fcbingen I participants, most of whom were medical professionals rather than theologians, advocated a less radical reform of medical mission that sought to reintegrate (rather than ex-communicate) the professional medical worker into the wider healing church and to supplement medical skills with \u201cpractical acts of love and service . . . sanctified by the ministry of the word, prayer, and the sacraments.\u201d[28]<\/a> In this commitment to reconnecting medical missionaries to the corporate life of Christian fellowship, T\u00fcbingen I offered a new ecclesiology: the healing church.<\/p>\n The church as \u201chealing community\u201d was a correction to what was identified by participants as one of the critical issues in medical missions: the increasing power, specialization, and professionalization of medicine. Specialized medical practice and the attendant institutions in which it was practiced, even if nominally Christian, had become disengaged from the life of the congregation.[29]<\/a> This affected not only the practice of medicine but also how Christians understood their own capacity to be agents of healing.<\/p>\n If health is described largely in the language of professional medicine, i.e., health is the absence of disease, the authority of the Great Physician to heal is masked by the proliferation of pretty good physicians who can diagnose, prescribe, and, in some cases, cure the physical ills that humans suffer. One of the fundamental claims of T\u00fcbingen I, however, was that \u201call healing is of God.\u201d[30]<\/a> As members of healing communities, then, Christians recognize their theologically rooted moral obligations to accompany others at every stage of their health journey, especially those stages not recognized or adequately addressed by the hospital-based system.[31]<\/a> In effect, Christians reclaim their capacity to heal by recognizing both the theological grounds of healing and the multi-dimensional reality of health. A multi-dimensional view of healing affords multiple entry points for persons with diverse talents to participate in healing processes, and thus, de-centers the medical professional without necessarily rejecting her contribution.<\/p>\n T\u00fcbingen I urged the Church not \u201cto surrender its responsibility in the field of healing to other agencies,\u201d since Christianity is understood as offering a distinctive approach to health and healing derivative of the Gospel\u2019s emphasis on wholeness and reconciliation. For the participants at T\u00fcbingen, the healing church offered a vision of a transformed community that takes seriously its unique responsibility to be a place of refuge from the existential anxieties as well as physical illnesses plaguing the modern world.<\/p>\n Reflecting on the consultation nearly two decades later, McGilvray offered this assessment of the epiphany at T\u00fcbingen I:<\/p>\n Their original intention had been to address themselves to the problems of their service and to discover a cogent rationale for the churches\u2019 involvement in medical care. Yet, in every case, they found themselves concluding that the church had somehow lost its capacity to heal partly because it had chosen to define this role too narrowly in terms of medical practice, addressed especially to those in sore need, and, partly because it had lost its sense of corporateness and community through a pre-occupation with individual salvation. In this sense, the church suffered the same imbalance as medicine which was most frequently practiced on a one to one relationship between physician and the individual patient.[32]<\/a><\/p>\n According to this line of thinking, the Enlightenment and the development of modern medicine in its wake effectively ruptured the intrinsic connection between the Gospel and health, first by separating out the constitutive parts of the human (mind, body, spirit), and second, by transferring the authority to heal into institutions and technologies driven by the logic of scientific positivism.<\/p>\n The upshot, in Christian theological terms, is that modern medicine could not account for the paradoxical place of suffering in the Christian tradition.[33]<\/a> Healing, the medical equivalent of salvation, is preoccupied with the total removal of illness; health is negatively defined as the absence of disease. Modern medicine, in other words, does not offer a satisfactory soteriology to persons who experience illness and suffering as more than a physical phenomenon.<\/p>\n Despite drawing such a stark contrast between the logic and practices of Western medicine and a theology of Christian healing\u2014and, perhaps, as the quote from McGilvray suggests, humbled by the church\u2019s own failure to walk the talk\u2014the participants at T\u00fcbingen I left open the question of whether to fulfill this \u201cresponsibility in the field of healing\u201d through the maintenance of separate Christian health facilities or through the participation of individual Christians in secular agencies.[34]<\/a> Any answer to this question had to be consistent with the theology of health and healing \u201crediscovered\u201d at T\u00fcbingen I, but it would also have to account for the radical historical transformations in which this rediscovery was taking place. As McGilvray observes, a description of the pioneering role of churches \u201cin the establishment and maintenance of hospitals\u201d is not the same as a prescriptive claim about the churches\u2019 \u201cunique responsibility\u201d within a modern state.[35]<\/a><\/p>\n Something had happened at the first T\u00fcbingen conference. A healing church had been conceived, if not born. T\u00fcbingen I identified a distinctive identity for Christian communities, yet in so doing it made explicit the gap between Christian understandings of health and healing, on the one hand, and Western biomedical explanations of illness and health, on the other. In attempting to \u201cdiscover a cogent rationale for the churches\u2019 involvement in medical care,\u201d participants at T\u00fcbingen I called into question the premises of medical care, itself, at least as practiced in the West and among medical missionaries. The take-home message from T\u00fcbingen I was that medical accounts of health are insufficient without insights from Christian theology, especially insights about salvation. But this message left open two important questions: 1) \u201cwhether the theologian\u2019s view of salvation would be complete and sufficient without the contribution of the scientist\u201d[36]<\/a> and 2) what a healing church would actually look like in practice.<\/p>\n These questions formed the basis for a second consultation at T\u00fcbingen, three years after the initial gathering. By 1967, efforts were underway to look for examples of the healing church in the world. Surveys by the World Council of Churches\u2019 Committee for Specialized Assistance to Social Projects (SASP) had been fielded in individual nations with the intention of eliciting the scope and role of \u201cchurch-related medical programs\u201d in the context of emerging independent states.[37]<\/a> The results of these surveys informed the discussions of T\u00fcbingen II, offering evidence of the ways the medical missionary model failed to meet the health needs of the vulnerable persons it was designed to serve.<\/p>\n Echoing earlier concerns about the disproportionate emphasis on curative care, surveys found that 95% of church-related health programs focused on curative rather than promotive or preventive medicine. Moreover, as governments in newly independent states rushed to modernize, they, too, placed an emphasis on curative services. As a result of this narrower emphasis and the legacy of colonial disregard for a comprehensive health system, it was estimated that only 20% of populations had access to modern medical care\u2014government or church-provided. Even with access to care, the curative care focus contributed to a rise in operational costs for hospitals, e.g., expense of upgrading diagnostic technologies. Higher fees for services were implemented to offset these additional costs, further restricting the potential clientele to those who could afford to pay the higher fees.<\/p>\n Two additional findings of the surveys reflected specific concerns of the post-colonial era. First, locations of health services tended to follow colonial patterns. For example, the placement of hospitals and clinics was largely a function of strategic decisions on the part of colonial administrators and missionary churches rather than a response to the specific health needs of the colonized. This institutional patchwork of health providers presented a challenge to new leaders interested in developing planned, comprehensive national health systems. The church-related hospitals and clinics dotting the sub-Saharan African landscape emerged over time in response to the specific needs of the former colonies and did not reflect a coordinated effort to provide medical care across localities.<\/p>\n A second finding of the surveys was that the actual and potential contribution of churches to healthcare services in post-colonial Africa was largely ignored by the leaders of newly independent states, in part because the lack of coordination within and across denominations undermined the coherence of a church voice in debates about how to address the health needs of all citizens.[38]<\/a> Given all of this, examples of what the healing church might look like were hard to find, especially if the search for the healing church was conducted within the amalgam of existing church-related health programs.[39]<\/a><\/p>\n The theologically rich concept of the healing church served to disrupt the dominance of biomedical frameworks for health that had relegated religious leaders to \u201creactors,\u201d[40]<\/a> uncritically adopting the language and approach of Western biomedicine. Medical-speak had increasingly become the default language for articulating the fundamental questions of human suffering as well as the responses they evoke\u2014questions T\u00fcbingen participants recognized as central to the Christian story. At the same time, participants at the first T\u00fcbingen consultation attempted to reclaim elements of the Christian healing tradition without retreating to pre-modern understandings of healing (e.g., healing as miracle), nor reverting to a narrow view of medical mission as primarily a means of proselytizing, or saving bodies to save souls. Reasserting the priority of healing in the Christian tradition was intended as a constructive critique, animated by an impulse to reform rather than reject the assumptions of Western medicine, a corrective to what James McGilvray identified as an \u201cidolatry of the problem-solving powers of science.\u201d[41]<\/a><\/p>\n Indeed, for Robert Lambourne, whose book\u00a0Community, Church, and Healing<\/em>\u00a0(1963) was one of the core texts at T\u00fcbingen II, recognition of the tyranny and inadequacy of the medical model had become increasingly obvious even within the profession of medicine:<\/p>\n Recent years have seen a revival of interest within Medicine and Church in the possibility of co-operation with each other. There is now, amongst the majority of men and women working in the medical and social services, some sympathy with church and religion. . . . As a consequence the clinician, whatever his personal position in matters of faith, now recognises ideally that no case history is complete which does not record some understanding of the patient\u2019s thoughts and feelings about his place and purpose in the universe. This understanding is not, of course, necessarily communicated in religious language.[42]<\/a><\/p>\n In the mid-twentieth century, interest in holistic health, the psychosomatic unity of the person, or what might be described as the phenomenon of human being appeared widespread.[43]<\/a> For those at T\u00fcbingen II, this interest raised questions about the capacity of both science (i.e., medicine) and Christian theology, in and of themselves, to articulate a comprehensive understanding of the multiple and interlocking dimensions of healing. T\u00fcbingen I had proposed the healing church as a corrective to the limits of the dominant medical view of health, but T\u00fcbingen II was forced to confront the limits of the healing church.<\/p>\n Reflecting on the criticisms of T\u00fcbingen I and the clarifying work undertaken at T\u00fcbingen II, Christoph Benn and Erlinda Senturias suggest that the healing church was never intended as a substitute for other health care institutions, arguing that the \u201cprimary responsibility for the health care of people remains with the government of nations.\u201d The churches should \u201ctry to complement government services when these cannot fulfill their commitments or when there are particularly disadvantaged people for whom nobody cares.\u201d To task the church with the maintenance of a national health system \u201cwould be a misunderstanding of the church\u2019s mission.\u201d[44]<\/a> The healing church as manifest in actual institutions on the ground, according to this assessment, stands in society\u2019s gaps and in so doing provides a witness to the specific ways national health systems fail to meet the health needs of its citizens (e.g., discriminating against certain populations).[45]<\/a><\/p>\n The fundamental insight that \u201call healing is from God\u201d was intended neither as an abdication of human responsibility to provide medical care to those in need nor as a rationale for not seeking this-worldly healing. Rather, it was a call for all members of the church to participate as healers according to their particular gifts and, in the process, transform congregations into healing communities. With healing no longer circumscribed by the field of medicine, members of the healing church could see themselves in the role of healers through a range of activities such as accompanying ill persons home from the hospital or advocating for improved sanitation and potable water in a village. In this way, the theological vision of the healing church might be translated into an ecclesial and social reality with impact on the varied causes of suffering in this world.<\/p>\n The holistic understanding of health and the priesthood of all healers for which it created space was not, in the end, a denial of the critical role of medical professionals in church-related health programs. Indeed, the \u201cepiphany\u201d of T\u00fcbingen II was that to understand the implications of the healing church required an intimate and ongoing conversation between the disciplines of theology and medicine, among others. The key question of whether theology and medicine could speak coherently to one another about the phenomena of health or, more broadly, about what it was to be human remained open. T\u00fcbingen II did not provide definitive answers to the questions of \u201cwhether the physician\u2019s view of health is complete and sufficient without a contribution from Christian theology, and whether the theologian\u2019s view of salvation would be complete and sufficient without the contribution of scientists.\u201d Instead, the second consultation ended with a deeper awareness of the difficulty in transitioning from a\u00a0vision<\/em>\u00a0of the healing church to its realization. It also ended with a greater resolve to address these challenges with the full resources of the larger ecumenical movement, a resolve that would eventually take institutional form in the Christian Medical Commission, or CMC.<\/p>\n Established by a mandate of the World Council of Churches in 1968, the CMC was \u201ccharged with the responsibility to promote the coordination of national church-related medical programmes, and to engage in study and research into the most appropriate ways in which the churches might express their concern for total health care.\u201d[46]<\/a> The mandate emphasized the practical tasks of the CMC even as it implied the theological dimensions of the new approach to medical missions articulated in the T\u00fcbingen consultations.<\/p>\n Practically, the CMC was to be \u201can enabling and supporting organization.\u201d Surveys conducted prior to 1968 revealed that member churches of the World Council of Churches were affiliated with 1200 hospitals worldwide, but the growing role of government in public health combined with an increase in costs as a result of both technological advances and aging institutions required a reevaluation of church-related health programs.[47]<\/a> When the Commission identified an innovative program, it used the Commission\u2019s contacts to help secure funding for its work and put its organizers in touch with people \u201cdoing similar work elsewhere.\u201d[48]<\/a> But as McGilvray, the CMC\u2019s first director and a veteran hospital administrator, noted at the inaugural annual meeting, the mapping of these innovative programs had a \u201ctheological flavour.\u201d[49]<\/a><\/p>\n Documenting church-affiliated health care programs provided answers to the descriptive question: What are churches doing? But analysis of the actual programs, especially in relation to other non-church health services, offered a starting point for answering theological questions about the distinctive contribution of church-affiliated services, too. Recalling the emphasis on salvation history and wholeness that permeated the T\u00fcbingen discussions, McGilvray declared, \u201cThe Church is not simply another service agency or an ecclesiastical foreign aid programme.\u201d[50]<\/a> And after T\u00fcbingen, the Church was not simply the Church anymore. It had become the healing church, leading some observers to suggest that \u201c[h]ealing considered as the responsibility of the entire community may be precisely one of those gaps into which Christian congregations should do pioneering work.\u201d[51]<\/a> The examples of accompaniment and advocacy above suggest what some of this work might look like. Christian congregations could also serve in an educative capacity, providing information about health risks specific to the diverse communities in which they were located.<\/p>\n The CMC, echoing both the theological and institutional concerns of T\u00fcbingen, was interested in models of comprehensive primary health care, i.e., programs that balanced preventive, promotive, and curative health care. Hospital-based care should remain a vital component of medical missions, but the near-exclusive emphasis on hospitals in medical mission activities was problematic for two reasons, in addition to the financial and infrastructure challenges it posed.[52]<\/a> First, hospitals serve only those who come through their doors. Second, curative treatment is only one part of health and healing.<\/p>\n Both reasons suggest that hospital-based care is inherently exclusive and by implication at odds with a Christian gospel that emphasizes inclusivity.[53]<\/a> Hospitals in the first instance are exclusive in the same way as a church that does not engage in outreach. They operate on a\u00a0Field of Dreams<\/em>\u00a0logic: if you build it, they will come. Such a logic has an impact on how the health priorities of a given community are determined. Who is present and what symptoms they present with matters. In epidemiological terms, such an approach fails to give an accurate picture of the health ecology of a given community. In slightly more theo-ethical, though still health-resonant, language, it fails to meet the needs of the most vulnerable, those who exist at the furthest margins of a community\u2014whether in actual geographic proximity to the hospital or as a result of illness-related stigma.<\/p>\n The second challenge of a health system centered on hospital-based care can be seen as related to the question of meeting actual needs. In this case, however, the failure to meet actual needs is understood as the inadequacy of a curative model of medicine to address the wide range of causes that contribute to ill health. While a trip to the hospital may result in the diagnosis and initial treatment of an illness, the hospital is limited in its ability to attend to the broader context in which the illness is experienced.[54]<\/a><\/p>\n Viewed through the language of T\u00fcbingen and the CMC, this second challenge is exclusive in its failure to see human beings (and their health) as multidimensional and its failure to recognize the role of non-medical professionals in healing.[55]<\/a> These two challenges presented the CMC with a real-world opportunity to live into and out of its theological understanding of the healing church.<\/p>\n In its first decade, the CMC played a significant role in framing the concept of primary health care (PHC) that would eventually be adopted by the World Health Organization at the Alma Ata Conference in 1978. Despite divergent interpretations of the approach, the basic commitments of primary health care found widespread agreement in the mid-1970s. At its core, PHC was about increasing equality throughout health systems and protecting the dignity of patients.[56]<\/a> An emphasis on equality placed the burden on health system administrators to justify resource allocations that resulted in disparities between urban and rural populations, rich and poor, racial or ethnic sub-populations, and types of disease burden. Protecting the dignity of patients, often referred to as \u201cpatient-centered care,\u201d involved, among other things, increasing the participation of patients in defining health needs at the individual and systems level, transparency with regards to treatment options, and a general acknowledgment of the patient as an equal partner in the healing process.[57]<\/a><\/p>\n In 1975, the WHO gave formal expression and priority to these commitments in its seven principles of primary health care. These principles, in turn, set the stage for the ambitious campaign slogan \u201cHealth for All by 2000\u201d at the World Health Assembly in 1977 and the subsequent consensus document, the Declaration on Primary Health Care drafted at Alma Ata a year later. The principles emphasized 1) the health\u00a0ecology<\/em>\u00a0of a community, 2)\u00a0integration<\/em>\u00a0of PHC with the various components of the health system, 3)\u00a0intersectoral<\/em>\u00a0cooperation, 4)\u00a0participatory<\/em>\u00a0planning, 5)\u00a0practicability<\/em>\u00a0in terms of cost and existing community assets, 6)complementarity<\/em>\u00a0among promotive, preventive, and curative health, and 7) a form of\u00a0subsidiarity<\/em>\u00a0for linking health interventions to the appropriate providers.<\/p>\n Since its earliest days, the CMC had made equality and patient dignity part of its core commitments. The work of the CMC as documentarian, disseminator, and definer of trends in PHC was well respected by the leadership at the WHO in the 1970s. The proximity of the two organizations in Geneva played a role in the frequency of contact between them, whether in formal consultations or simply as observers at various high-level meetings. While many factors led to the Declaration of Primary Health Care at Alma Ata in 1978, recent historical scholarship emphasizes the important role of the CMC in preparing global health actors for the policy-level paradigm shift to primary health care.[58]<\/a> The degree to which the Declaration reflects the initial commitments of the Commission provides further confirmation of this cross-pollination\u2014though it does not necessarily establish the direction of causal arrows\u2014between the two organizations.[59]<\/a><\/p>\n The theological backstory to the CMC and the primary health care movement offers one example of how persons and institutions committed to ongoing theological reflection can help facilitate transformations in the fundamental commitments of global health institutions.[60]<\/a> Partnerships between religious entities and global health leaders can, this history suggests, be catalysts for new ways of thinking about health and human flourishing and the specific practices of global health that support them.<\/p>\n In 1970, just as the Christian Medical Commission was getting its institutional bearings, Christian ethicist James Gustafson introduced the \u201cparticipant theologian\u201d as an ideal type for Christian engagement in the world.[61]<\/a> Though I have not found evidence suggesting Gustafson was familiar with the Christian Medical Commission, its origin story recounted above leads me to suspect that Gustafson would recognize in the persons of early participants at T\u00fcbingen, as well as the later work of the CMC, kindred spirits to his elusive participant theologians.[62]<\/a><\/p>\n The participant theologian, according to Gustafson, is a reformer, actively engaged in \u201cthe shaping of events and in the development of and reordering of institutions.\u201d The participant theologian avoids two extremes, represented by the prophetic theologian and the preserver theologian, namely \u201cthe condemnation of the existing state of affairs\u201d and \u201cwhole-hearted support of them,\u201d respectively.[63]<\/a> While he suggests that examples of the preserver and prophetic types are prevalent throughout the sweep of Christian history, he does not find examples of the participant type.<\/p>\n The character of participation, or the disposition of the participant theologian, is epistemic humility. The participant theologian<\/p>\n is one partner among many in the human conversation that will give some determination to the ways in which men [sic] use their technical and political powers, their resources and talents in the development of history and society toward humane ends.[64]<\/a><\/p>\n Epistemic humility, however, is not the same as absolute epistemic deference to knowledge generated by non-theological domains of inquiry since the participant theologian brings her own \u201cspecialized knowledge and discipline of thought to bear in the interactions of perspectives, technical knowledge, moral beliefs, and opinions, out of which come the convictions and actions that shape the future.\u201d[65]<\/a> The participant theologian is willing to be corrected by insights from other forms of inquiry but also makes a claim that the theological perspective may prove corrective as well, especially with regards to questions about the primary purposes of human being.[66]<\/a> The participant theologian is persistent but not overly insistent, retaining \u201cthe grace of self-doubt,\u201d to borrow from the first-order religious language of a recent Gustafson monograph.[67]<\/a><\/p>\n The participant theologian draws from the best of what the discipline of theological reflection has always offered, including \u201cimagination, critical reflection, and historical awareness.\u201d[68]<\/a> In this way, the participant theologian discerns in the dialogue with scientists and policymakers, among others, the appropriate moment to \u201csay something theological\u201d about what she sees as the menu of options made possible by developments in other areas of inquiry.[69]<\/a><\/p>\n Applied to the relationship between Christianity and global health, Gustafson\u2019s participant theologian brings to the global health table what Charles Swezey identifies as \u201ctheological convictions [that] will affect the analysis in a significant although not unique way.\u201d[70]<\/a> While it may be possible to describe and analyze the phenomena of human health without reference to theological concepts, Gustafson\u2019s participant theologian claims a seat at the global health table based, in part, on her specialized knowledge and discipline of thought about the ends of human being.<\/p>\n In the abstract, this may not seem like a robust argument for contemporary global health leaders to pay attention to the theological insights generated by Christian religious entities. When backlit by the particular history of the primary health care movement detailed above, however, the work of participant theologians becomes more compelling. In the story of the CMC the impulse of the participant theologian finds institutional expression. The impulse to \u201cbring to bear the insight and wisdom of the Christian community\u2019s long historical reflection about the chief ends\u201d of human being gives rise to a specific commitment to seek out community health programs in which that insight and wisdom manifest. This impulse and commitment proved catalytic for a twentieth century transformation in global health that continues to inspire and challenge twenty-first century global health leaders.<\/p>\n The flier from the Christian Connections for International Health conference with which this article began emphasized the quality of health care provided by Christian religious entities at the community level. In this emphasis, the conference organizers acknowledged the dominant logic of global health\u2019s twenty-first century recommitment to primary health care: primary health care is a priority because the scientific evidence base shows that it is more effective in improving population-level health outcomes.[71]<\/a> But the \u201cCall to Action\u201d that ended the conference suggests that something besides an evidence base compels people of faith to \u201cembrace their mantle of leadership\u201d in the face of global health crises like the AIDS pandemic.<\/p>\n The vital and vitalizing presence of participant theologians in the original primary health care movement sheds light on what that \u201csomething\u201d might be. Though one among many partners working to address human suffering, the distinctive contribution of Christian religious entities to global health lies at once within and beyond the identifiable health assets that can be leveraged by institutions like the World Health Organization. Partnerships with religious entities offer an opportunity for ongoing discernment within global health circles about \u201cwhat the primary purposes of human existence in community and history are, about what the qualities of life ought to be\u201d and, perhaps, even, \u201cabout what values are in accord with God\u2019s activity and intention\u201d for creation.[72]<\/a><\/p>\n Matthew Bersagel Braley is Assistant Professor of Religious Studies and Philosophy and coordinator of the MA in Servant Leadership program at Viterbo University.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n [1]<\/a> Christian Connections for International Health, \u201cCommunity Health and Wholeness,\u201d 2008 Annual Conference (May 26-28, 2008),\u00a0http:\/\/ccih.org<\/a>\u00a0[accessed May 8, 2008].<\/p>\n [2]<\/a> I use the definition of religious entities employed by the African Religious Health Assets Program (ARHAP<\/a>) as a way of distinguishing it from the narrower, and often misused, term \u201cfaith-based organization.\u201d Religious entities include religious organizations, organizations tied to religious groups (e.g., hospitals), community networks, and personal initiatives (e.g., the work of specific religious leaders, including traditional healers). For a more complete definition and the debates surrounding its use, see Jill Olivier, James R. Cochrane, Barbara Schmid, and Lauren Graham, \u201cArhap Literature Review: Working in a Bounded Field of Unknowing,\u201d (2006),\u00a0http:\/\/www.arhap.uct.ac.za\/downloads\/arhaplitreview_oct2006.pdf<\/a>.<\/p>\n [3]<\/a> World Health Organization, \u201cFaith-Based Groups: Vital Partners in the Battle against Aids,\u201d in\u00a0The \u20183 x 5\u2019 Target Newsletter<\/em>\u00a0(Geneva: World Health Organization, 2004).<\/p>\n [4]<\/a> \u00a0For examples of these three observations, especially as they affect the global health response to the AIDS pandemic, see \u201cHIV and AIDS and STI Strategic Plan for South Africa: \u00a02007-2011,\u201d (Office of the Deputy President, 2007); Christoph Benn, \u201cWhy Religious Health Assets Matter,\u201d in\u00a0ARHAP: Assets and Agency Colloquium<\/em>\u00a0(Pietermaritzburg, South Africa: African Religious Health Assets Programme, 2003); Andrew Doupe, \u201cPartnerships between Churches and People Living with Hiv\/Aids Organizations,\u201d (Genevea: World Council of Churches, 2005); Todd Ferguson et al., \u201cReport on the Global Consultation on Decent Care,\u201d (Geneva: World Health Organization, 2006); Steven Lux and Kristine Greenaway, \u201cScaling up Effective Partnerships: \u00a0A Guide to Working with Faith-Based Organizations in the Response to HIV and AIDS,\u201d (Geneva: Ecumenical Advocacy Alliance, 2006); Olivier et al., \u201cArhap Literature Review: Working in a Bounded Field of Unknowing.\u201d; Tearfund,\u00a0Faith Untapped: Why Churches Can Play a Crucial Role in Tackling Hiv and Aids in Africa<\/em>(Teddington, UK: Tearfund, 2006); World Bank, \u201cConcept Note,\u201d in\u00a0HIV and AIDS Workshop for Faith-Based Organisations and National AIDS Councils<\/em>(Accra, Ghana: World Bank, 2004); World Health Organization, \u201cFaith-Based Groups: Vital Partners in the Battle against AIDS.\u201d<\/p>\n [5]<\/a> Thembela Kepe, \u201c\u2018Secrets\u2019 That Kill: Crisis, Custodianship, and Responsibility in Ritual Male Circumcision in the Eastern Cape Province, South Africa,\u201dSocial Science and Medicine<\/em>\u00a070, no. 5 (2010); K. Peltzer and X. Kanta, \u201cMedical Circumcision and Manhood Initiation Rituals in the Eastern Cape, South Africa: A Post Intervention Evaluation,\u201d\u00a0Culture, Health, & Sexuality<\/em>\u00a011, no. 1 (2009).<\/p>\n [6]<\/a> ARHAP, \u201cAppreciating Assets: Mapping, Understanding, Translating, and Engaging Religious Health Assets in Zambia and Lesotho,\u201d (Report to the World Health Organization, 2006), 40.<\/p>\n [7]<\/a> Ibid.<\/p>\n [8]<\/a> Faith-informed commitments to justice and practices of care, such as ARHAP\u2019s case study of the Masangane Integrated HIV Treatment Program, are recognized in the community as well as by the WHO not only for the ways in which they distinguish the program\u2019s mission from other programs but also for the direct correlation clients and observers draw between these commitments and the improved health outcomes of the population Masangane serves. See Liz Thomas et al., \u201c\u2018Let Us Embrace\u2019: \u00a0The Role and Significance of an Integrated Faith-Based Initiative for HIV and AIDS,\u201d (Eastern Cape, South Africa: African Religious Health Assets Programme, 2006); World Health Organization, \u201cFaith-Based Groups: Vital Partners in the Battle against AIDS.\u201d; Ted Karpf et al., eds.,\u00a0Restoring Hope: Decent Care in the Midst of HIV\/AIDS<\/em>\u00a0(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008).<\/p>\n [9]<\/a> The shift towards an emphasis on assets does not ignore the negative impact of religion in the HIV response. Rather, as members of ARHAP argue, the claiming that religion\u00a0matters<\/em>\u00a0should encourage global health leaders to pay attention to both religious health assets\u00a0and<\/em>\u00a0liabilities, enabling \u201ca more socially intelligent, humanly adequate response to the real complexities of health and ill-health.\u201d See Olivier et al., \u201cARHAP Literature Review: Working in a Bounded Field of Unknowing,\u201d 13. In this article the focus on religious entities as an asset rather than a liability for global health is necessary in order to set-up a more nuanced argument about\u00a0how<\/em>\u00a0religious entities are valued. Many scholars, including Christian theologians, have addressed the negative impact of Christian theological reflection on global health issues, notably the HIV pandemic. See, for example, Warren Parker and Karen Birdsall, \u201cHIV\/AIDS, Stigma and Faith-Based Organizations: A Review,\u201d (Centre for AIDS Development, Research, and Evaluation (CADRE), 2005); S.H. Rankin et al., \u201cThe Condom Divide: Disenfranchisement of Malawi Women by Church and State,\u201d\u00a0Journal of Obstetrics, Gynecology, and Neonatal Nursing<\/em>\u00a037, no. 5 (2008); Gill Seidel, \u201cThe Competing Discourses of Hiv\/Aids in Sub-Saharan Africa: Discourses of Rights and Empowerment vs. Discourses of Control and Exclusion,\u201d\u00a0Social Science and Medicine<\/em>\u00a036, no. 3 (1993); Daniel Jordan Smith, \u201cYouth, Sin, and Sex in Nigeria: Christianity and HIV\/AIDS-Related Beliefs and Behaviour among Rural-Urban Migrants,\u201d\u00a0Culture, Health, & Sexuality<\/em>\u00a06, no. 5 (2004); Anton A. van Niekerk and Loretta M. Kopelman, eds.,\u00a0Ethics and AIDS in Africa: The Challenge to Our Thinking<\/em>\u00a0(Claremont, South Africa: David Philip, 2005).<\/p>\n [10]<\/a> See note 4 for specific examples.<\/p>\n [11]<\/a> Thomas et al., \u201c\u2018Let Us Embrace\u2019\u201d; Barbara Schmid et al., \u201cThe Contribution of Religious Entities to Health in Sub-Saharan Africa,\u201d (African Religious Health Assets Program, 2008).<\/p>\n [12]<\/a> See the section \u201cDefining the ARHAP Lexicon\u201d in ARHAP, \u201cAppreciating Assets: Mapping, Understanding, Translating, and Engaging Religious Health Assets in Zambia and Lesotho,\u201d 37ff.<\/p>\n [13]<\/a> Paul Germond, Sepetla Molapo, and Tandi Reilly, \u201cThe (Singular) Health System and the Plurality of Healthworlds\u201d (paper presented at the ARHAP International Colloquium, Cape Town, South Africa, March 13-16, 2007). See also the work of the World Health Organization to develop the concept of\u00a0decent care<\/em>\u00a0as a mediating structure or middle axiom to guide the engagement of religious entities in HIV treatment, including Karpf et al., eds., Restoring Hope: Decent Care in the Midst of HIV\/AIDS<\/em>.<\/p>\n [14]<\/a> Jill Olivier, \u201cWhere Does the Christian Stand? Considering a Public Discourse of Hope in the Context of HIV\/AIDS in South Africa,\u201d\u00a0Journal of Theology for Southern Africa<\/em>\u00a0126 (2006); James R. Cochrane, \u201cOf Bodies, Barriers, Boundaries, and Bridges: Ecclesial Practice in the Face of HIV and AIDS,\u201d\u00a0Journal of Theology for Southern Africa<\/em>\u00a0126 (2006).<\/p>\n [15]<\/a> I am using the phrase \u201ccritical theological reflection\u201d to indicate intentional activity on the part of Christians first to respond constructively to their experience of the world using theo-ethical insights discernable in the dynamic traditions that constitute Christianity. This use is consistent with the general form and purpose of theological reflection described in Patricia O’Connell Killen and John de Beer,\u00a0The Art of Theological Reflection<\/em>\u00a0(New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1994). For an overview of different styles of theological reflection see Robert Kinast,\u00a0What Are They Saying About Theological Reflection?<\/em>\u00a0(Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2000).<\/p>\n [16]<\/a> This consultation was not the first attempt to bring together theologians and medical personnel in the hope of clarifying a Christian conception of healing. Various dialogues sponsored by mainline denominations took place throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, for example. But these attempts failed to get off the ground. James McGilvray observes that theologians could never quite reconcile their doctrinal differences and that the medical professionals were mostly interested in religion as an existential balm, a \u201cresource which gave meaning to life in situations of inner emptiness,\u201d such as illnesses for which there was no medical cure. See James C. McGilvray,\u00a0The Quest for Health and Wholeness<\/em>\u00a0(T\u00fcbingen: German Institute for Medical Missions, 1981), 12.<\/p>\n [17]<\/a> Lesslie Newbigin, ed.,\u00a0The Healing Church: The T\u00fcbingen Consultation, 1964<\/em>\u00a0(Geneva: World Council of Churches,1965), 5.<\/p>\n [18]<\/a> Though the full proceedings are not available from the consultation, key elements were preserved in\u00a0The Healing Church<\/em>. Preparatory papers reproduced in their entirety include: Lesslie Newbigin, \u201cThe Healing Ministry in the Mission of the Church\u201d; Erling Kayser, \u201cMedicine and Modern Philosophy: An Introduction\u201d; Martin Scheel, \u201cSome Comments on Pre-scientific Forms of Healing\u201d; and John Wilkinson, \u201cChristian Healing and the Congregation.\u201d See ibid.<\/p>\n [19]<\/a> Though a consensus document emerged, it was not without critique, including the vague use of the term \u201chealth\u201d and the danger of connecting physical healing with Christian understandings of eternal salvation. For an overview of these critiques, see Christoph Benn and Erlinda Senturias, \u201cHealth, Healing, and Wholeness in the Ecumenical Discussion,\u201d\u00a0International Review of Mission<\/em>\u00a090, no. 356-357 (2001).<\/p>\n [20]<\/a> Newbigin, ed.,\u00a0The Healing Church: The T\u00fcbingen Consultation, 1964<\/em>, 34. Reflecting on the impact of T\u00fcbingen I, Christoph Benn and Erlinda Senturias, longtime observers of ecumenical discussions, assert, \u201cEven today, many churches in Africa and Asia feel that the conclusions of the T\u00fcbingen consultation deeply influence their work in health care.\u201d Benn and Senturias, \u201cHealth, Healing, and Wholeness in the Ecumenical Discussion,\u201d 10.<\/p>\n [21]<\/a> Newbigin, ed.,\u00a0The Healing Church: The T\u00fcbingen Consultation, 1964<\/em>, 35.<\/p>\n [22]<\/a> The language in the statement is consistent with the preoccupation among some mid-twentieth century theologians with existentialism, e.g., anxiety about death, meaning of life, etc. Such preoccupations may have been an important catalyst for broadening the definition of health. Health professionals and theologians alike recognized the limits of physical healing for addressing the isolation and anxiety that continued to plague modern life, despite advances in economic well-being, medical technology, etc.<\/p>\n [23]<\/a> Benn and Senturias, \u201cHealth, Healing, and Wholeness in the Ecumenical Discussion,\u201d 12.<\/p>\n [24]<\/a> David Jenkins, \u201cForeword\u201d in McGilvray,\u00a0The Quest for Health and Wholeness<\/em>, xiii.<\/p>\n [25]<\/a> Ibid., xiii<\/p>\n [26]<\/a> Ibid., xiii.<\/p>\n [27]<\/a> Ibid., 16.<\/p>\n [28]<\/a> While the consultation included many medical professionals, it is important to acknowledge that during this period medical missionaries often had theological training as well. Ibid, 15-16.<\/p>\n [29]<\/a> Benn and Senturias, \u201cHealth, Healing, and Wholeness in the Ecumenical Discussion.\u201d<\/p>\n [30]<\/a> Newbigin, ed.,\u00a0The Healing Church: The T\u00fcbingen Consultation<\/em>, 1964, 47.<\/p>\n [31]<\/a> Though Lambourne was not a part of the initial T\u00fcbingen consultation, his insights about the relationship between churches and healing predate the consultation and became a centerpiece of the second T\u00fcbingen consultation in 1967. See Robert A. Lambourne,\u00a0Community, Church, and Healing: A Study of Some of the Corporate Aspects of the Church\u2019s Ministry to the Sick<\/em>\u00a0(London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1963).<\/p>\n [32]<\/a> McGilvray,\u00a0The Quest for Health and Wholeness<\/em>, 21.<\/p>\n [33]<\/a> Lambourne,\u00a0Community, Church, and Healing: A Study of Some of the Corporate Aspects of the Church\u2019s Ministry to the Sick<\/em>.<\/p>\n [34]<\/a> Newbigin, ed.,\u00a0The Healing Church: The Tubingen Consultation, 1964<\/em>, 35. This open practical question would continue to permeate subsequent ecumenical discussions about health, including the second T\u00fcbingen consultation (T\u00fcbingen II).<\/p>\n [35]<\/a> McGilvray,\u00a0The Quest for Health and Wholeness<\/em>, 3. Discerning the unique responsibility of churches in modern health care systems was complicated by the transition from colonial rule to independence in many countries at this time. The transition raised questions about the institutional and political viability of the colonial-era medical mission model in a post-colonial context. For a discussion of specific factors affecting medical missions in the post-colonial context see Christoffer H. Grundmann, \u201cMission and Healing in Historical Perspective,\u201d\u00a0International Bulletin of Missionary Research<\/em>\u00a032, no. 4 (2008).<\/p>\n [36]<\/a> McGilvray, 23.<\/p>\n [37]<\/a> McGilvray, 15. The two objectives of these surveys read as follows: \u201c(1) To discover the relevance of Christian medical work as a professional activity within the context of the existing health and medical needs and in relationship to other agencies, governmental and private, which were also seeking to meet those needs; and (2) to seek the relevance of Christian medical programmes to the life and mission of the church particularly on the national and local level.\u201d Qtd. in McGilvray, 32.<\/p>\n [38]<\/a> McGilvray, 40-41.<\/p>\n [39]<\/a> The Christian Health Associations of various countries in Africa arose in part as a response to concerns about the relative invisibility of church health programs to leaders of newly independent states. The Christian Health Association of Malawi, notably, traces its origins to a chance meeting between a Roman Catholic Bishop, a General Secretary of the Malawian National Council of Churches (i.e., a Protestant ecumenical organization), and a surveyor commissioned by the WCC as part of the effort to document church-related health programs on the ground. For a fuller accounting of this chance meeting see McGilvray,\u00a0The Quest for Health and Wholeness<\/em>, 32-41. Despite the Mainline Protestant influence in the World Council of Churches, the task set by the T\u00fcbingen conversations was not limited to Protestant health care entities.<\/p>\n [40]<\/a> McGilvray, 31.<\/p>\nABSTRACT<\/h3>\n
\nIntroduction<\/strong><\/h3>\n
Religious Entities as Vital Partners in Global Health<\/strong><\/h3>\n
Ecumenical Epiphanies, or the Joy of Saying Something Theological<\/strong><\/h3>\n
T\u00fcbingen I: Ordaining the Priesthood of All Healers<\/strong><\/h3>\n
T\u00fcbingen II: Here is the Healing Church, Where Is the Steeple?<\/strong><\/h3>\n
From Consultations to Consultant: The Early Years of the Christian Medical Commission<\/strong><\/h3>\n
The Great Commission: The CMC and Primary Health Care<\/strong><\/h3>\n
Christian Leaders as Participant Theologians<\/strong><\/h3>\n
Conclusion<\/strong><\/h3>\n
\nNotes:<\/h4>\n