Positive Urban Theology

Towards a Positive Urban Theology (Abridged)

By Rev Dr Cris Rogers

Having lived in working-class communities for most of my life, it is noticeable that there is a perception, not only from outsiders but also from those within the urban areas, that these deprived areas are inferior to the more affluent suburbs. Although this perception is economically true to some extent, as evident in the infrastructure, housing, and lack of green spaces in urban areas, the language used to describe inner cities is often negative, with words such as impoverished, deprived, underprivileged, disadvantaged, neglected, and marginalised.

From a certain perspective, this language accurately reflects the truth that inner cities need investment and support. However, it is essential to recognise that while these areas may face economic challenges, they are also vibrant communities with their own unique strengths and cultural richness. A more balanced and nuanced understanding is needed, one that acknowledges the challenges while also celebrating the resilience, diversity, and potential of these neighbourhoods.

This way of thinking played much into the urban theology of the 1970’s. Some have argued that it created a condescending view where the church became saviour. Some theology presented the terms ‘urban’ and ‘deprivation’ as synonymous. It boiled the urban place down to poor people needing the middle to upper-class church to save them.

This paternalistic mentality made the church’s engagement unreliable and divided along class lines. Too often, it amounted to surface-level work – positive actions with shallow impact that made the Church feel good about itself but didn’t catalyse any real change. While an over-generalisation, this pattern could be witnessed across many urban parishes.

The urban theology of that era frequently relied on negative, deficit-based terminology focusing on deprivation, poverty, hopelessness, and the perceived needs of ‘those’ people in troubled communities. It treated urban residents as projects to be served or solved rather than full human beings. People became monolithic subjects of charity rather than agents with skills, assets, and the capacity to improve their own circumstances.

This mindset viewed the urban context solely through a lens of deficiency, where impoverished communities were problems to be fixed by well-meaning but disconnected outsiders hailing from more affluent backgrounds. While positive actions were undertaken, the underlying attitudes often stemmed from a place of unconscious bias, lacking nuance and failing to appreciate the inherent strengths and resources within urban neighbourhoods.

Positive efforts were diminished by reductive thinking that simplified the complexities of urban life into mere deprivation. Urban communities were painted as helpless recipients rather than vibrant individuals with the potential to shape their communities from within. Though well-intentioned, this limited framing neglected the lived realities, resilient creativity, and rich culture present in even the most under-resourced urban areas.

An example of this negative theology led people to the idea that the best option was to get out of our estates. The dream then is about moving on and getting somewhere else. In the early days of our urban church plant, we experienced a group of people who would miss church once a month to go and attend worship at a larger church in the city. They would say that they were heading into the city to ‘get a top-up’, or ‘be refreshed’. What this communicated was God was at work over there and we had to leave to find him elsewhere. God wasn’t in the inner city, we had to go out and find him and bring him back.

Over our time in East London but also experienced in other working-class communities is that if you ‘make it’ in life you are able to move out and move further to the coast. For those on my estate, moving to Barking or Dagenham becomes making it, it’s heaven-bound.

The needs of our estates are a real issue and one we need to get a handle on. I don’t want to undermine the battle many of us are in and the heartbreak we live through daily. While at the same time I also want to help us refrain from the urban setting in terms of heaven’s perspective and not hell’s perspective.

Positive Urban theology

Bishop David Sheppard presents a powerful reframing when he argues that “The urban landscape is the new Eden where God is walking with his people”. With this new urban garden, we see the Father walking in the cool of the day with his people in and amongst the tower blocks and trees. This bold statement recasts the city not as a fallen place of brokenness, but as a fertile garden where the divine presence intimately dwells among its inhabitants. It upholds urban spaces as sacred grounds for holy encounters and transformation.

A positive urban theology is fundamentally rooted in a profound theology of place. It recognises that God is intimately concerned with particular locations and contexts, not just universal principles divorced from the grit of lived realities. Scripture is replete with examples of God’s activity being intrinsically tied to specific geographic sites and the people bound to those places through generations. The Exodus narrative centres on the ‘Promised Land’, a specific place where God’s provision and blessing would be manifest for his people. Jesus’ ministry was intentionally embedded in the Galilean context where Christ was called to minister to a specific people for a specific time. The book of Acts chronicles the gospel’s spread through cities and regions where the Holy Spirit provided signs and wonders of the Kingdom of God. Even the coming New Jerusalem is an embodied, place-based vision.

More than just a backdrop, place shapes identity, cultures, narratives, and the unique ways people experience and understand the Divine. The specificities of urban contexts, the architecture, public spaces, socioeconomic realities, ethnic enclaves, and community rituals, all bear profound theological significance. To disconnect theology from these grounded particulars is to relegate it to an abstract, placeless exercise disconnected from the grit of bodily, communal existence. A positive urban theology leans into the Incarnation principle of DivinePresence taking on flesh and becoming tangible in a certain time and space. It values emergent, contextual wisdom over imported, one-size-fits-all frameworks. It sees the streets, sanctuaries, and simple dwellings of the city as factories where God’s liberating work is unleashed in tangible ways. Just as Jesus could only be understood through his immersion in the Galilean context, so the Spirit’s activity in our day can only be perceived through attunement to the voices and places too often silenced and marginalised. A theology of place makes room for God’s particularised movements anchored in long histories, narratives of resilience, and the local wisdom that cannot be extracted from its environment. It embraces the truth that the Holy is always made known somewhere particular, through people bound to that geography. To practice a positive urban theology is to become rooted, present, and committed to the Spirit’s work of transformation in a tangible place and among its peoples.

We are called to embody the theology of the sacred space, a theology that agrees that the estate is as sacred as Jerusalem and that we are called to love the hell out of our estates as no one else can. The Jews had this theology of the sacred and holy city of Jerusalem, it was a perspective they had that Jerusalem was sacred from the soil on the ground to the air they would breathe. We too should see the holy estate perspective that this is holy ground because it is fearuly made by the same creator.

As Dr Romero says in Spy Kids 2, ‘Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?’ God is not elsewhere, he is here in the holiness of this place. Which reminds us that the estate is fearfully and wonderfully made. We must see it as such.

The incarnation itself models a move towards identifying with the working class and embracing their lived realities. In doing so the incarnation validates human experience and allows humanity to accept their reality. Just as Christ took on flesh and dwelt among humanity, an incarnational approach to urban theology necessitates immersion into the concrete contexts of the poor and marginalised. It requires demonstrating solidarity, not from a distance but by journeying alongside those on the underside of power and privilege.

Positive urban theology fundamentally calls for a deep abiding and commitment to the local place and its people. It resists extractive models that treat communities as mission projects. Instead, it roots itself within the particular neighbourhood, honouring its unique character and developing holistic, place-based approaches that uplift the innate gifts and assets present.

Rich communal life. Within working-class urban contexts, urban theology sees a richness of community where familial bonds and multigenerational ties are paramount. These are not soulless, disconnected areas but vibrant villages shaped by thick relationships, shared histories, and an ethos of togetherness that transcends material poverty. Family, in all its diverse forms, is celebrated as the lifeblood.

Far from being depleted environments, these communities are rich in intangible resources like social capital, cultural art forms, grassroots entrepreneurship, and the innovative ingenuity born from making a way out of no way. Seeing the urban setting in a positive light recognises this reservoir of creativity as profound giftedness to be unleashed through investment and trust. In other words everything that is needed for the working-class to thrive in the urban setting is in there hands. They have what is needed but it has been undermined by other classes not recognising it.

The urban landscape mirrors the multifaceted beauty of the imago Dei, with a patchwork of diverse ethnicities, cultures, and backgrounds coexisting. Rather than falling into an ethnic essentialist trap, urban theology recognises this plurality as a strength and opportunity to experience the fullness of God’s creativeness and intentions for human community.

Positive commitment. Contrary to narratives of deficiency, the people of working-class urban areas are marked by profound resilience and an inner reservoir of strength. Having endured generational hardship, they model perseverance, grit, and the ability to cultivate life against all odds. This resilience is an incredible asset to be honoured and amplified, not diminished.

Co-labourers. The working class exemplify what it means to be co-labourers with God in the work of urban renewal and restoration. Just as the scripture in Isaiah 58 prophesies, they are the very “repairers of broken walls” and “restorers of streets with dwellings” – the ones rolling up their sleeves to mend their own communities in partnership with the Divine Rebuilder. Think of the people of Jerusalem borking together to rebuild the ancient ruins. What was seen as destroyed was rebuilt by the hands of the people.

Positive urban theology is rooted in God’s mandate for His people to be agents of peace (shalom) and flourishing even in the most unlikely of contexts. The words of Jeremiah 29:5-7 provide a powerful vision, “Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce…multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city…for in its welfare you will find your welfare”. Rather than retreating or merely surviving, God calls the exiles to fully invest in the life of Babylon, building, planting, eating, multiplying, reproducing, creating. They are to actively seek the shalom and prosperity of what seems like an unlikely place.

This embedded calling extends to the urban cities and estates today. It resists both an escapist mentality and a defeatist, rose-tinted perspective. Instead, it views these places through the eyes of heaven, as grounds for God’s restorative work of pulling upwards, not allowing them to be dragged down by hellish forces of decay. The people of God are to be a counterculture, displaying the creative energies of heaven through their pursuit of life, multiplication, growth, and holistic flourishing. They carry a sacred vision for transforming abandoned lots into gardens, derelict homes into havens, and fractured communities into wellsprings of generation after generation thriving as Jeremiah’s exiles did. This positive urban theology beckons the church to plant itself among the rubble, model an ethos of spiritual, social, and cultural abundance, and midwife God’s shalom until it overshadows the brokenness.

A positive urban theology beckons us to see through God’s eyes of abundance rather than the world’s lens of scarcity. As Gregory of Nyssa poignantly states, “Do not despise the poor. Ask yourself who they are and you will discover their greatness. They have the face of our saviour”. Too often, those in under-resourced urban communities are dismissed, dehumanised, and stripped of their dignity through narratives of deficiency. However, this theological vision invites us to look beyond surface-level poverty and lack. When we truly ask who the poor are, we encounter not mere statistics or problems to be solved, but human beings bearing the very image of Christ. In their resilience, creativity, community bonds, and persistence against all odds, we witness echoes of the Saviour’s own solidarity with the marginalised. To despise them is to turn away from the face of God revealed in their struggles and strengths. Instead, a positive urban theology calls us to honour their inherent worth, celebrate their gifts, and partner with the great things God longs to birth from within their lived experiences of lack. It sees the urban poor not through a lens of pity or paternalism, but as co-labourers whose often-overlooked perspectives are vital for manifesting God’s peace and prosperity.

Positive urban theology recognises the people of the estate as an incredibly rich and underutilised resource for leadership. Just as Jesus emerged from the context of Nazareth, deeply rooted in the realities of the poor and working people, so too can transformative leaders rise up from within urban communities when we invest in cultivating indigenous gifts. The Bible reminds us in 1 Corinthians 1:27 that “God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong”. By living deeply embedded in these contexts, not as saviours but as co-labourers and humble learners, we position ourselves to identify and develop homegrown leaders whose very ordinariness is a powerful testimony to God’s upside-down kingdom. When we let go of saviour complexes, we create space for the urban working-class to use their contextual expertise, street smarts, and resilient faith to become radical agents of restoration within their own neighbourhoods and families. This pathway, modelled by Christ himself, unleashes an untapped well of prophetic leadership capable of speaking truth to power and giving birth to holistic transformation.

A positive urban theology hangs on the profound reality that even our most disadvantaged estates have a King, and this King is on their side. We cling to Jesus’ words that the Kingdom of God is already present, here in our midst, on the very stairwells, pavement slabs, and community spaces where life unfolds (Luke 17:21). God’s realm is not some far-off place we must journey to find, but is planted in the heart of our neighbourhoods, awaiting our eyes to perceive its in-breaking. The estates do not exist in a spiritual void, the Father is continuously at work within them, whether we see it or not (John 5:17). When we sleep, when we leave, when we feel absent, God’s transformative activity persists unhindered. An estate is a sacred place teeming with divine movement, not because we deem it so, but because the King has claimed it as His own. We are but participants in this activity, not its initiators or finishers. Our presence can shed light on God’s work, but His value and care for these places does not hinge on us. This theology frees us from saviour complexes, realising it is ultimately King Jesus, not fickle metrics like house prices, who determines the worth of an urban place and its people. We are called to be rooted, present witnesses to the Kingdom already budding among us, not carriers of an outside salvation.

The Estate is a brilliant place of life and vitality.

A place of innovation. It’s out of the inner city new creative communication is born. Both new music and art are known to come from the inner city. My estate is very proud that Dizzy Rascal grew up there.
A place of diversity, every tribe and tongue gather here in a unique way.
A place of resilience and hard work – people fight for their future and work hard for their families, sometimes working two to three jobs to make sure their kids have what they need.
A place where there are bountiful untapped resources of creativity, imagination and problem-solving. Estates are full of entrepreneurs.
A place with a high value and commitment to family and friendship. There is nowhere on earth where the phrase “blood is thicker than water” is more true.
A place with untapped urban leaders who speak the local language and who can be championed and encouraged. They know what they talk about and they know the contextual ways of saying it.
A place of being endlessly hopeful. A place where we hope and long to see beauty in the ashes. We see this daily in people’s lives. As Delboy said, ‘Next year we will be millionaires’.
A place we call ‘home’ where we are called to love.

Ultimately, a positive urban estate theology would seek to empower and mobilise the residents of the estate to become agents of positive change in their own community, working alongside others to create a more just and flourishing society. It would be a theology that is grounded in hope, recognising that God is at work in the world and that the Kingdom of God is both a present reality and a future hope.

Adam, a local resident, once said to me, ‘Don’t see hell where you are supposed to see heaven’. I found that quite interesting, what was it about what I said that made him think I saw my home as hell and not heaven? It gave me so much to think about. A robust positive urban theology conveys that liberation is not about becoming free from a place like the estate but free to restore, renew and rebuild that place. For us, salvation isn’t freedom from the estate but freedom to see another possibility here in the bricks and mortar.

Our theology shapes what we do.

Positive urban theology will shape our actions and approach in various ways when it comes to addressing challenges and opportunities in urban contexts. Here are some examples of how a positive urban theological perspective could influence what we do:

Community Development: A positive urban theology recognises the inherent dignity and worth of all people, regardless of their socioeconomic status or background. This could shape our efforts in community development by promoting initiatives that empower and uplift marginalised communities, fostering economic opportunities, and advocating for equitable access to resources and services.
Urban Renewal and Revitalisation: A positive urban theology values the potential for transformation and renewal within urban areas. This could shape our approach to urban renewal by prioritising projects that preserve the cultural heritage and unique character of neighbourhoods while addressing issues such as affordable housing, green spaces, and sustainable infrastructure.
Social Justice: A positive urban theology often emphasises principles of justice, reconciliation, and restorative practices. This could shape our engagement in social justice movements by advocating for policies and initiatives that address systemic inequalities, promote racial equity, and seek to create a more just and inclusive society within urban contexts.
Environmental Stewardship: A positive urban theology may emphasise our responsibility to care for the environment and promote sustainable practices. This could shape our actions by supporting initiatives that address environmental issues in urban areas, such as promoting green spaces, sustainable transportation, and responsible waste management.
Interfaith Dialogue and Collaboration: A positive urban theology recognises the diversity of religious and cultural traditions present in urban settings. This could shape our efforts to foster interfaith dialogue and collaboration, promoting mutual understanding and cooperation among different religious and cultural communities within the urban context.
Youth Empowerment: A positive urban theology may prioritise the development and empowerment of young people, recognising their potential as agents of positive change. This could shape our actions by supporting youth-led initiatives, providing mentorship and educational opportunities, and creating safe spaces for personal and spiritual growth within urban environments.
The prioritising of local Leadership Development: A positive urban theology often emphasises the importance of cultivating homegrown leadership within urban communities. This could shape our actions by investing in initiatives that identify, equip, and empower local leaders to address the unique challenges and opportunities within their neighbourhoods. Some specific examples could include:

Providing training programs, workshops, and mentorship opportunities to develop the skills and knowledge of emerging leaders from within the community.
Supporting community-based organisations and initiatives that are led by local residents who understand the context and needs of their neighbourhoods.
Encouraging collaborative leadership models that involve diverse stakeholders, including community members, religious organisations, charlities, and local businesses, in decision-making processes that impact the urban environment.
Promoting leadership pathways and opportunities for underrepresented groups, such as women, youth, and minorities, to ensure that leadership reflects the diversity of urban communities.
Facilitating networking and resource-sharing among local leaders, enabling them to learn from one another’s experiences and collaborate on collective impact initiatives.

The shaping of new urban worship. Our songs create our theology in us. Many hymns use the language of the country or the outdoors. These hymns do not connect with the urban highrise. Changing our theology of place will mean we also change what we sing as we explore God’s presence on the estate. There is this beautiful old him, How Great Thou Art. I would love singing it until we got to the 3rd verse which never connected with my local setting.

When through the woods and forest glades I wander

And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.

When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur

And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

I was left thinking, how many in church estates and urban churches have seen forest glades? Many haven’t even left the estate. The hymn was suitably telling people that somewhere else was a place of God’s glory. So we rewrote it. We now sing:

When through the estate and shaded parks I wander

And see the shops and people in the streets

When I look up and see the tower blocks’ grandeur

And hear the cars and the sound of dancing beats.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

What we sing tells us what we believe. Positive urban theology will mean we need to rethink our worship in line with our belief of the ‘sacred estate’.

I want to conclude by bringing our attention to Isaiah 55:12-13. A passage that reminds us of God’s presence in the estate. This translation is what I call the Urban Translation.

“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the tower blocks and maisonettes will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the estate will clap their hands. Instead of the thornbush will grow the conifer, and instead of briers the mothers day flowers will grow. This will be for the LORD ’s fame, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever”.

May 2024