CRAIG GOODWORTH’S CREATIVITY AND ENERGY OVERFLOW the usual categories of ministry. In fact, we had to add three new ministry headings to the GNA website for him. Yes, he’s a writer and poet, as are other Associates. But Craig is also a visual artist, volunteers as a prison chaplain, and plans to offer his desert property as a place of renewal for first responders. There may be horses involved.

It’s a pleasure to introduce him and invite you to bless his wide-ranging faithfulness.

Human imagination and ingenuity can be powerful expressions of Divine creativity. “In the beginning, God created…” says the first line of the Bible. Creativity is core to the character of the Holy One. Because we are made in the image of God, we can be humble partners with the Creator, envisioning something out of nothing, shaping newness that nurtures body and soul. That’s how I see Craig’s efforts: creativity given over to the Spirit with a vision for justice and compassionate care for people on the margins.

He told us up front that he took his vows as an artist as a young man, and he views his art as a form of public ministry. He’s followed his art toward the edges of issues and landscapes—immigration, honeybee hive collapse, the harsh desert. Craig’s visual art engages non-art people—ranchers, Quakers, hunters, soil scientists, social workers, fence builders, immigrants, beekeepers, clergy. He uses found objects and unusual locations to tell meaningful stories. Art led him into graduate studies in theology. He finished a Master of Divinity degree from Earlham School of Religion in 2020 with a thesis titled, Sacred Offense: Studies in Art, Aesthetics and Spirituality. In prose-poetry, Craig is drafting a manuscript about a Christ-figure who shows up in a modern trailer park and prison.

Craig’s been volunteering the past year in a maximum-security prison in central Phoenix. Helping with intake, in the hospital/hospice unit, or on work details, he says “fits” who he is. We in GNA recognized Craig’s call to accompany people in all kinds of pain. To become a certified prison chaplain, Craig begins Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at the Carl T. Hayden Veterans’ Administration Medical Center in Phoenix this spring.

Then there’s a grand vision for Craig and his wife’s property in Central Arizona. A Spanish term captures the spirit it – Querencia (there’s no direct translation in English). Querencia is a place that feels like home, a strong place, a refuge connected to a particular land or location. It’s a poetic concept that evokes longing or belonging somewhere the heart can finally rest. Craig’s family envisions offering hospitality in a small casita/art studio for prayer, silence, and creativity. Craig’s wife is a psychologist, so together they hope to offer trauma-informed care with humans and horses. Preparing the land and structures will be a long-term project he is comfortable calling, “building projects,” “landscaping,” “installation art” or “site-specific land art.”

In our new Associate, the Spirit seems to be yoking prophetic vision with compassionate pastoral care. It’s a both/and experience. He calls his varied ministries “hybrid,” but they all fit well under the GNA umbrella. We celebrate Craig faithfulness as a whole person, well-prepared for diverse tasks as the Spirit prompts. When people bring vision and a sense of Spirit’s leading, Good News Associates delights in offering discernment support and a channel for resources to help make things happen.

If any or all of Craig’s ministries spark something in you, or they would bring you joy to support financially, please donate to Craig through GNA.

Read more and donate to Craig ministries on the GNA website.

From Craig: Ramada

[about the structure pictured at the top of this post]

Upon returning to Arizona a few years ago, one of the first projects I began on my property was constructing a Ramada (shade structure). I made multiple trips collecting 15-tons of concrete filled 14-foot long steel bollards from a ranch in Southern Arizona. They had constituted the boundary between the US and Mexico border, prior to the new 30-foot border wall.

I spent two years discerning how I might offer these storied materials to a non-profit in Phoenix Arizona for a collaborative community-based art project. We reckoned with power dynamics, assumptions about what art can and cannot do, and the cultural and historical significance of the materials. We could not find a way forward for the project. The materials were simply too charged.

Art doesn’t always work. It doesn’t need to. Art does have a capacity to create conditions for human dialogue where mutual influence and change is consciously chosen. I practice listening. I am especially enlivened by dialogue.

During this process, with the help of a local fence building outfit, I constructed a prototype “Ramada” from a portion of the materials on my property for a national public art installation. The bollards were reoriented from vertical to horizontal, shifting abject brutal material that served as a tool of empire for separation, to a shade structure hospitable to human gathering. Upon completion, the boss, documented welder and undocumented forklift driver and I drank beer underneath it. A few months later, my 14-year-old son’s drawing of the Ramada sculpture served as the icon/theme for a regional development conference. Last Spring, I planted several Cat’s Claw vines to create more shade.