The other evening we were invited to attend an outreach meeting.  Located in a place that has no evangelical influence for a 15 mile radius, we were encouraged to hear that the monthly service was drawing around 30 people.  But when we walked in the door, it became clear to me that we had stepped into a different time.  It was this nation’s interpretation of a good, old-fashioned tent revival.  And it couldn’t be more out of place.

At first I thought that maybe I was being too judgmental or too quick to think, “Hey, church isn’t done this way anymore”.  God forbid that I was trying to push current ministry or worship trend for trend’s sake.  Seriously, that not me.  But then I realised that it wasn’t that they weren’t modern, it was that they were speaking in the voice of another generation (the oldest generation, mind you), yet they hoped to engage the young generation, most of whom have never heard the Gospel.  Ever.  What I was witnessing was a generation gap.

As we were introduced to people before the service, it became obvious that the room was filled with people further afield from the general village or area (actually, there were people from the next county in attendance).  Perhaps three or four lived in the village.  It also became apparent that all attendees were believers and church attenders in their home area.  With the average age of 70 (and I’m being really, really polite here), we were some of the only “youngsters” in attendance, and, since we’re already saved, I believe that there were no non-Christians in the room. 

It was a typical warm summer’s evening.  Outside the meeting I could hear the sounds of life going by: loud cars, music, shouting.  I couldn’t help but wonder that if any of the people on the street below somehow found their way upstairs to our group, would they understand any of what was being said and why?  And I’m not referring to the work of the Holy Spirit illuminating that which seems foolish to the world.  I’m talking about people speaking in the service in “Thee”s and “Thou”s, repeating a rote benediction without providing the words for those who wouldn’t know it, showing up right as the service starts and scampering off quickly afterwards back to the next county.  Though I understand it through exposure as a younger child, it seemed to me that an outsider today would easily interpret this as some group of religious people who descend on the village monthly without warning or interaction for about an hour and a half once a month to recite religious jargon that is unnecessarily difficult to understand.

When talking to some of the people after the service, we found that many had adult Christian children around our age who, while active in church, none of whom were in attendance that night.  I’ve met a lot of Christians within my generation who are truly engaged in witnessing, evangelism, social justice, etc., so it would be unfair to say that the Younger Christians just don’t care.  I know they do.  Although they may understand the older generation’s way of “doing church”, they’re not participatory, and I believe it’s because they know that the unchurched of their generation would find it difficult to navigate the lexicon and actions of the church of yesteryear.

Because I’m not the person that just spouts, “Modernise, man! Get with the times!”  I realised that my generation and the even younger generation will be in this boat one day.  What I witnessed the other night was, at one time, cutting edge, modern, perhaps even considered scandalous at some point due to the presence of an organ (an electric one, mind you).  These had been the avant garde and trailblazers who spoke to their generation in a way that they were familiar, who had the same point of reference as the non-Christians around them.  Yet now we watch our spiritual ancestors, cock our heads and say, “Huh?”  Of course, it works both ways.

The generation gap has been a quandary for years, both in and outside the church, and this post isn’t even going to attempt to address the issue in relation to church worship or practise in an established body of believers.  However, when you’re looking at what’s effectively missions (it doesn’t matter to me whether it’s on the homefront or in a foreign country), I fear that we’re checking our brains at the door and falling into comfortable patterns of “how it’s always been done”, even if that’s coming from a younger, more modern perspective.  If we can’t communicate effectively to the people we live amongst in favour of a dogmatic approach to practise, then what’s the point?  The answer isn’t to modernise or even revert back to the old ways; it’s to engage our brains, consult the leading of the Holy Spirit, and hold outreaches in a way that engages people in the language that they know.

The outreaches have continued on since I visited, and just recently I heard that attendance has unfortunately dropped down to just 10 people.  I’m not a “ministry justified by numbers” advocate, yet I fear that those ten are not part of the village or even the area.  People in that town don’t even understand what the outreaches are about, so they don’t attend—and can you blame them?

Related posts:

1. Disappointment Avoidance
2. Doing Ministry at Arm’s Distance
3. Missionary? Not My Kid: When Your Parents Don’t Approve

Now the questions begin.  “What’s your secret?” “How’d you do it?” “Why is your group growing?”

Things are beginning to happen.  “Green shoots” of higher attendance and participation at church are emerging that indicate possible fruit.  I use the word “possible” for two reasons: 1) I’ve been gardening long enough to know that just because your seeds sprout and start to grow doesn’t guarantee that an animal or pest will eat your planned harvest, and 2) I’ve been in ministry long enough to know that not everyone who indicates interest in the Gospel will follow through (think the birds and seeds in the Parable of the Sower).

Those in Christian circles around us have taken notice and are now pressing us for the answers why there seems to be an uptick in attendance and participation at church.  Our unabashed answer is always the same: “God”.  We’re His workers, but it really is Him.  We could replicate the same sequences of ministry from the last few years in a different location, and there’s no guarantee that we’d see the same results.  Or any results, for that matter.

This isn’t about a formula, a programme, or some magic succession of actions that equals a result.  Still, the Christian leaders press us.  “Yeah, yeah, God’s doing this.  Of course, I agree.  But what exactly are you doing?” they’ll say.  You can almost imagine their pen and paper in hand, like a journalist, ready to jot down the secret of (what they consider) ministry success.

I didn’t have an answer at first, and their quick diminishment of the Holy Spirit’s power in all this really puts me off.  Yet lately I feel that I’ve located the best way to describe the “formula” they’re trying to extract from me: “Being there.”

The response is uniformly disappointed.  What it seems that they’re looking for is an agenda that can be assembled, quantified, qualified.  Something that they can rush into a situation, bark orders, execute a sequence, receive a result, and retreat.  It’s as if ministry, or mission, or evangelism, has an On/Off switch, something you slip into for a designated time and then after that, it’s not a part of you until the next event.

What the reality is in my particular mission field is that either you’re “all in” when you’re living here or people just won’t bother to interact, no matter what your message or reason for being here.  Many missionaries have abandoned this field with plaintive cries of, “They just don’t want to hear the Gospel!”  What I’ve found is that people here do actually want to hear the Gospel and speak about spiritual matters (more so than my experience growing up on the West Coast of the States, oddly enough).  They just want to get to know you first, feel that you’re a contributing part of the social fabric, and know that you care for not only their eternal life but about the life they’re living right now.  The best way we can convey that is by being there, not just when it’s time to address spiritual matters but when the benign, everyday things happen, too.  And that takes time, loads of time, before they’re at that point.

Being missionaries who are not legally allowed to take a secular job here, we’ve initially found it hard to meet people outside of the church setting.  And if you’re evangelical, being insular is pretty much shooting yourself in the foot.  So we started looking for places that we could begin to meet people outside the church.  One of the ways we can do that is just to be participatory in local groups and clubs that people would normally join.  We’ve chosen areas that are of natural interest and that we’d join anyway; in other words, there’s a natural motivation.  And not too many groups, either, as in this culture it would be taken as trying too hard.  But when I’m asked for the specifics, I’m reluctant because often that’s where the person starts looking for the “exact replication formula”.  Just because I find I can meet a lot of people by joining the Photography Club, for instance, doesn’t guarantee you will, too.  Especially if it’s patently obvious that you have no real interest in photography or even loathe it.

This modern life is often lonely despite population density and communication technology.  We can be surrounded by people and have many more available at the touch of a button, yet sometimes it’s like no one’s really listening–or even just paying attention.  And you can really tell when someone is actually engaged with you in an interaction.  For the most part, people can still sense the difference between genuine connectedness with others and just going through the expected social motions to appear interested.  Non-Christians are no different in figuring this out.

Another way to connect is that we’ve attempted to read and pay attention to what’s going on in this culture today.  People are surprised when they realise that we have a basic understanding of what’s happening in the nation’s politics, or that we noticed the new business that went into the town.  They don’t expect us to care because we’re foreigners.  When I tell them that we hope to apply for citizenship here, the reply is always, “Oh, you’re serious about staying here.  You’re really in this for the long haul?”  It’s then that their attitude seems to soften, that they relax a bit more around us.

I find that even those unfamiliar with Christian missionaries (i.e., that they would tend to come for three years or less) seem to hold the view that we’re just opportunistic foreigners here for however long suits us, and then we’ll change location when something better comes along.  This, I suppose, would be one of the reasons for most migrants to leave their homeland.  But what makes us different is that we didn’t come here to have a better life (in the secular, materialistic sense).  If you look at it that way, we went backwards.  But that fact has always opened up conversations here: “So what would bring you all the way over here from the States?”  It’s a great way to share why we’re here and what we believe, and several have been positively intrigued by our answer to the question.

Will each of our encounters equal Christ-followers?  I hope so, but possibly not.  But what I have learned is that, in this culture, if I entered each new encounter with a tract and an immediate question about Eternal Life, not only would the person refuse to talk with me, they would also quickly inform those in these close-knit villages that we’re to be avoided completely.  I’ve learned that as I interact naturally with people, why we’re here eventually comes up, and recently I’ve received positive questions that I can then use to begin a spiritual conversation.  It’s opened it up for me that I can now pose future questions without scaring them away.  I still pray for God’s discernment about timing and being bold for Him, and this isn’t a license to avoid the Great Commission.  I just had adjust my expectations to my field’s pace, and the responses are just now starting.  It’s worth noting that most of the missionaries that left due to frustration from no converts would have left about six months to a year before I feel fruit may start to show here.

It’s about being on purpose, or just paying attention, but not agenda-driven.  It’s about being around and open when those spiritual conversations finally do arise but not forceful when your timeline isn’t met or things haven’t happened the way you think.  It’s about being there.

No related posts.

Of all the lessons that foreign missions ministry has taught me (and continues to do so), the top of the list has to be that we are shaped by our location and culture more than we realise.  Most anyone who has lived in a foreign country for a decent stretch of time would probably recognise how true this is.

When you meet a fellow Christian from another country, there are some great similarities and kinship that’s experienced through our Family in Christ.  It’s difficult to describe to others, but there is an understanding of what it’s like to press on with life as a Christian in this fallen world.  They know what you’ve seen, and usually understand how fellow Christians experience life.

Then there’s the point that you realise that their Christian experience has differed than yours.  Their “favourite songs” are ones you’ve never heard, or methodology in worship services is, well, just different.  Nothing wrong or sacrilegious, but jarringly different to your exposure.

Who and what you are surrounded by is bound to influence your perception and choices.  Even when I’ve worked with missionaries who are firmly resolved to not lose one bit of their “American” accent, actions or attitude, over time even they begin to start using phrases here that wouldn’t ever be used “back home”.  They don’t notice it, and can become alarmed when informed of this, yet for all their determination to resist, the phrase or action creeps back in.  Bear in mind that these are things that are completely inoffensive both here and to Americans, nor would they be anything wrong in God’s view at all.  They hear it used over and over again, or perhaps people here understand them better when they say that phrase.  It just happens, even if they purposely try to stop.

The anger and fear that I’ve witnessed when a missionary realises that they’ve changed is striking.  It appears to them as if they’ve lost a part of their identity, a part of what defines them, and, to put it bluntly, the change freaks them out.  I know that we personally act and speak differently since being in the field, and not a few of our friends and family have politely (sometimes sternly) reminded us that we’re “still American” or should “act/talk more American”.  All this has done is reinforce in me that first and foremost, my identity is in Christ and my citizenship is in Heaven.

As Christians, Christ and His ways, His laws, His thoughts are to be our starting point.  This knowledge I’ve always believed, but now in the situation of changing cultures this wisdom is moving from my head to my heart.  The more we’re around someone or something, the more we become like them.  We humans can’t help it.  I believe it’s why the potter/clay analogy is used; we are impressionable beings, able to take shape according to the influence of another.

Once Jesus is established as our example, all other identities are up to where He places us.  Those identities may alter according to our circumstances, but it doesn’t negate our place in Christ.  Whether I act more or less “American” doesn’t diminish the fact of where I was born or lived most of my life.  It doesn’t mean any ill will towards my American family or friends, either.  It just means that I live somewhere else now that differently shapes my experience of life.

You’ve probably already guessed that I would invoke Paul’s entreaty to “become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.” (1 Corinthians 9:22-23).  But it’s the phrase that summarises Chapter 9 in my Bible that says it all: Paul Surrenders His Rights.  If I need to change language, actions or appearance (within God’s law and direction in the Bible) to reach people in another culture for Christ, so be it.  I only need to be concerned with God’s direction in my life, and nothing more.

Related posts:

1. The “Just Be Yourself” Paradox
2. The Search Terms I Get…
3. Doing Ministry at Arm’s Distance

One of the things I’ve learned since being in the mission field is that the word “missionary” carries a significant amount of baggage for both Christians and non-Christians alike.  Some of it is well-intentioned and respectful, other reactions are more telling about people’s perception of missionaries.  But it was this post on another blog that suggested working a secular job internationally with a missional intent (and the subsequent comments) that made me ponder if it is possible to have an authentic relationship with both Christians and non-Christians in your mission field as an identified missionary.  Does the perception by others of our assigned “agenda” to convert (or at least proclaim) discourage people from accepting our interest as an authentic relationship?

In the referenced post, I asked the author, Grady Bauer, to clarify his statements about a “truly authentic set of relationships in a different culture”:

“I think one of things those of us in full-time ministry, regardless of location, struggle with is relationships. If I’m a full-time missionary in a country…who do I connect with along natural lines? Very few people. Work can lead to relationships that are created authentically, not me targeting them with the gospel. Hobbies and mutual interests also serve this purpose as do volunteering with a public organization. It helps us to connect with people in ways that make sense and seem more authentic.”

I’ve let these thoughts sit in the back of my mind for a while, but what prompted me to explore further was this recent search term here at my blog:

“Do the missionaries really like me?”

While I realise this could just be the question of an insecure person in a very specific circumstance, it immediately brought all these thoughts back.

In no way am I implying that missionaries themselves cannot be authentic, nor do I feel that we’re all just “agenda” driven.  On the contrary, I’ve met quite a number that have genuine love and concern for the nation and people of their calling.  But for some reason there seems to be a perception amongst the people I’m sent to minister that, because my main job here is a missionary, witnessing and conversion is my only reason for getting to know anyone.  My interest, in their minds, cannot be genuine.

Do I want to share the Gospel with every new person I meet?  Definitely, with discernment and timeliness as God provides.  But the way I see it, I had this exact same motivation when I was working a secular job in the States.  I’m just in a different country with a different funding source; nothing else has really changed.

When you’re working full-time in ministry regardless of title or location, more often than not you’re surrounded during your day by only Christians.  If a concerted effort is not made to “branch out” of the comfort zone to interact with the general population, it’s easy to see why the outsider perception is that we Christians only emerge from the “Holy Huddle” to proselytise a few new people into our camp.  And it’s even easier to understand why people in your mission field might be more dismissive of someone’s motives who is not appearing to live like they do (i.e., clocking into a “regular” job as opposed to the missionary being paid from afar via fundraising).

This video from Tim Keller is actually addressing the definition of the “missional” church (and I feel it’s the clearest, best definition yet), but what he says around 1:25 is crucial to even us missionaries:  “When non-Christians come in [to a missional church], they see that we inhabit the same world.  We read the same magazines.  We’re struggling with the same issues in the neighbourhood.  They see that we’re really being Christians in the same world that they live.”

I’m certainly not calling for compromise of the Gospel, nor for adapting too far culturally by breaking God’s laws and commands.  I’m not even advocating being “trendy”,  “hip”, or “attractional”.  And as Christians, I realise we are still set apart for God.  We will always in certain ways be very, very different.  However, I do wonder if our starting point with new acquaintances were on a more even level (as in co-worker), would it help us to bridge faster that reluctance and suspicion gap?

No related posts.

We’re finally at the fork in the road that we’d always suspected was ahead.  After several years in the mission field, the fundraised portion of our finances are starting to dry up.  It would be easy to blame it on the economy, and for a few supporters I believe it is the case.  However, despite our best efforts to communicate, I’m afraid we’re becoming uninteresting.  Most all of our possible support contacts have been tapped at several points throughout our time here, just a few remain that have not been contacted and we haven’t made any new contacts in the States since we’ve been in the field the entire time.

We were well-prepared for this reality by several former missionaries, so it’s no surprise.  Though we’re not sent from a mission board, a lot of our Christian friends expect us to return around now to begin a year-long fundraising tour.  But, like most aspects of ministry, we’re rethinking traditional wisdom on how to proceed.

Considering all that would go into a long trip back, the financial cost would be difficult, especially to maintain our home here.  We’d have to generate funds just to travel back to the States…so we could generate funds to return here.  Meanwhile, we’ve heard firsthand from quite a few missionaries that the economy is making churches understandably hesitant to commit to new missionary support.  Several have told us that their mission agencies have instructed those in early fundraising stages to stand down for at least a year or more; other agencies that fully fund their missionaries have had to request some to return due to lack of funds.  I fear that an intended short return would end up in a long cycle of trying to generate enough to get back here, and it would end up that we couldn’t return at all.

Secondly, our ministry here is at a tender stage.  In no way am I trying to say that we’re so special or indispensable, but our extended (and possibly open-ended) absence would mean that there’s no one available to handle even pulpit supply more than once a month.  The Christians here, already few and far between in this country, are still at the “milk” stage and cannot yet understand Christian service or ministry participation.  While it is our goal to encourage as many nationals as possible to take over increasing ministry responsibility, this is a very slow and long-term process.

Add to all of that our field’s deep skepticism about missionary commitment (due to unfortunate history), some American churches’ focus turning solely to short-term missions, some Christian attitudes that we’ve “done enough” in the foreign field, and the popularity of the 10/40 window, fundraising successfully doesn’t look good.  Initially I feared that I was compiling all of this to justify that I don’t enjoy fundraising (I’ve met few who do), but after much prayer and consideration I’m confident that this isn’t just an excuse.

After much prayer and consideration, to remain in the field uninterrupted it is clear that the tentmaking must increase as our support declines.  We are very, very blessed to already own a low-maintenance business in the States.  Because our part of Western Europe is so very expensive (and that Euro exchange rate doesn’t help), this business has supported up to half of our financial needs over our entire time here.  We had suspected that over time the business would pick up where the support left off, and this appears to be the case.  I have to admit that I’m encouraged about eventually stepping off of fundraised support completely.

I think we’ve given traditional fundraising a very thorough effort over the years, especially in the “maintaining communication” arena.  But it’s become increasingly clear that supporter expectation of both lifestyle and results within an assumed timeline is disappointingly unrealistic in Western Europe.  Our field requires a long-term approach with the realisation that paid church staff is a strange concept to the small congregations of Western Europe.  When some of our stateside supporting churches tell us they expect our church here to pay full time in a few years, these Americans are coming from churches that can afford to pay at minimum a secretary, janitor, and worship/youth pastor in addition to the main pastor.  The reality here is that the pastor does everything, and he usually isn’t paid much; he must tentmake to fill in the difference.  This mindset can be redirected, but this culture is slow in adopting change.  Putting an arbitrary two- or three-year expectation on these Christians will inevitably fail.

If we’re eventually supported by our business and Christians here, it means we don’t have to work so hard to maintain contact or be in a constant state of explaining ourselves to supporters who are 5,000 miles away.  Please know that I wholeheartedly welcome accountability to supporters.  I would one-hundred-percent welcome any supporter to review my finances, spending habits, and even walk an entire week with us through each and every one of our commitments.  But that’s the problem; if you’re not here you can’t fully understand how ministry works in this culture and why using the American-style of ministry expectations won’t get you big or amazing results.

So for the moment we’re still supported by both fundraising and tentmaking.  We find that God has granted us a specialised business to develop on the tentmaking side, and I am encouraged to see it through.  This may not be the way God chooses to provide for other missionaries in other situations, but I am thankful for this opportunity to continue on in our field.

Related posts:

1. Question Week: Tentmaking v. Fundraising?
2. Today’s Economy and The Fundraising Dilemma
3. Fundraising: The Extreme Edge of Faith

One of the struggles I’ve faced being a missionary is the fact that my evangelical Christian parents don’t approve of my choice.  At all.  While their initial reaction was understandable, I thought and prayed that perhaps their stance would soften over time.  It has not.  In fact, year by year they have increasingly rejected most contact I’ve tried to make.  Conversations have become few and far between, and any mention I make of ministry here is met with stony silence and a quick topic change, so there’s not much to talk about after a few minutes.  I am no longer kept “in the loop” about even serious things, like my father’s recent surgery, until there was a complication afterward.  I’m very close to being disowned.

In no way am I making a sympathy grab here, just trying to explain that some parents take this very, very hard.

Because of this situation, every time I read in the Bible, “Honour your father and mother,” there’s a little pang of thought: Am I?  If you asked them, I believe they would immediately answer a resounding “No!”  However, after a lot of consideration of the situation, I have to respectfully disagree.

They raised me in a Christian home, dutifully attending church and with the instruction of doing what the Bible says.  I’m certain God placed this call on my life a lot earlier than I once realised and know that my motivations and intentions here are solely a reaction to Jesus’ command, nothing more.  This missionary life isn’t an avoidance of something else, an attempt to pad my resume, or crafted as a spite measure or glory grab.  I know they don’t see it this way, but it’s true nonetheless.  A good friend helped me realise that the number one way we can honour our parents is to unashamedly follow Jesus with all our soul, mind and heart.

While my parents’ long-term reaction may be on the extreme side of things, I was surprised to hear over the years from so many missionaries how many of their parents, sometimes one or the other or both, were so upset at their decision.  It’s not something that is talked about very often, understandably.  But I think it should be addressed because it is a serious issue.  Somehow I stumbled upon this article, which at first laments the younger generation’s apathy about committing to a situation and seeing it through.  Fair enough, but this paragraph towards the end was what caught my attention:

“We may need to redefine for this generation of parents what it means to release their children to the Lord. Where are the parents who pray for God to use their sons and daughters and then lay them on the altar for Him? Where are the parents who teach their children that when God speaks to them, the only answer is, ‘Lord, here am I. Send me?’”

Are parents upset because…their (adult) child (and grandchildren) will live thousands of miles away from them? …they fear their child will not have enough money to live? …there may be extreme danger in the field to which they are called?  I recognise that, for a parent, these are legitimate concerns for their offspring’s welfare.  None of them are easy to reconcile against what secular culture teaches.  But neither is the life of a missionary.  We are oddities, both in and outside of Christian culture.

Where does this leave me?  I defer to God, first and foremost, always.  Prayer for my parents is offered up constantly, but even if I lose complete contact with them, that sacrifice is so little compared to Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.

Related posts:

1. Stuck in a Moment, Both Young and Old
2. The Missionary’s Dilemma, or Let the Dead Bury the Dead
3. Staying Home For Christmas

As I recently listened to a sermon on the Parable of the Vineyard Labourers (Matthew 20:1-16) the focus was obviously on the aspect of some being rewarded unequally compared to the efforts of others.  However, it was in the middle of the sermon (and the passage) that I realised a parallel between the workers hired later and the fundraised missionary: working without knowing exactly what you will be paid.

If you notice, Jesus explains that the first set of workers had an agreed wage.  The second, third and fourth set of workers are told they will receive “whatever was right at the end of the day” in verse 4.  The fifth set of workers are told to join the others in the vineyard with no description of an agreed amount.  Essentially, they are working without a contract.  And so are we.

I’ve mentioned before some of the things we’ve learned about living on fundraised support (we’re also tentmakers for two-thirds of it, thanks to the unfavourable exchange rate and the ridiculous cost of living).  The biggest thing I’ve learned is that fundraised living is an extreme exercise of faith and probably one of the biggest reminders of our immediate dependence on God.

Here are a couple of concepts I see in the parable:

We can’t dictate (or even predict) God’s provision
God gives according to how He sees fit.  It may not adhere to earthly standards or our ideas of what is fair.  By the way, just where do we get this concept of “fair” from?  Kids seem to understand it from such an early age.  We cry “unfair” all the time.  If you look at it, He owes us nothing.  We owe Him everything.  Yet He provides abundantly for us.  Seems pretty “unfair” by our definition.

It’s rough when your support drops the next month after a major catastrophe or when a supporter has decided to fund another missionary in another field.  But we’ve found that new or surprise financial gifts have often, but not always, shown around that time to make up the difference.  At no point has it put us in extreme jeopardy.

We must have faith despite appearances
Those hired last possibly expected a lesser wage for less of the day’s work.  By the reaction of the earlier hires, it appeared to them that they would receive more if the late workers received so much.  Though a cultural norm was present (and, indeed, wouldn’t we expect similar treatment today?), provision ignored the rules going both ways.  And the first workers still received what they were promised; their wage was not reduced from the original agreement.

Watching others in ministry get a regular paycheck or receive considerable project funding can be discouraging at the time.  But that’s the result of comparing ourselves to others.  It’s not for me to question these things, and God is well aware of any needs I or my ministry have.  I must keep myself to the task He’s set before me, trusting that His timing is perfect.

A friend once said, “God is never early.  He’s never late, but He’s definitely never early.”

Related posts:

1. How I Became a Missionary, Part 4: You’re Nuts
2. Question Week: Tentmaking v. Fundraising?

My church elder was talking about the latest conference he attended.  As he described the speakers and the books he bought, his face lit up when he remembered something.  “They’ve got this brand-new approach that they’re trying now, and it shows a lot of promise.  People in some areas are really excited about it.  Have you heard of a Coffee Shop Ministry?”

Sigh.  Yes.  Ten years ago in the States.

I’ve been involved in ministry and church planting now for almost half of my life.  It feels like the whole time has been peppered with the next new book, angle, approach, tool, technique, item or worship style.  Every idea has the aura of “this is the thing that will really work”.  And it seems like more conferences are popping up every year, each with their own subtle twist or perspective on how to “do church” the best way to get the best results.  I fear I’m at the point of programme overload.

I’ve come to this point in my life for two reasons: 1) the sheer quantity of programmes over a long period of time are too much to process, and 2) seeing ministry in a different cultural context has made me realise how culture-specific virtually all of these approaches seem to be.  I have no doubt that, for each of the methods or techniques available in ministry today, there is a place or people group that have responded really well and have become Christians through this.   Praise God!  I’m honestly glad that this has happened in that situation.  But I’m startled by the attitude that most Christians have: “If it worked there, it’ll work here!”

Perhaps I’m jaded because I’m a missionary in a first-world country.  Many assume that the transition would be seemless and people here would respond to a specific type of outreach that worked in the States, or even within another “socially-similar” country.  I’ve had well-meaning people forward books and programmes to me for considerational use here, yet when I read the literature through my “Western European Culture” eyes, the language would too-easily be interpreted as individualistic, boastful, or sometimes confusing or even vulgar due to slight changes within the English usage here.  Churches here with the best of intentions have used some of these programmes, and I have witnessed the backlash from the nationals.

It gives me the impression that ministry, whether local or foreign missionary, has become an industrialised commodity.  Grab the package of books/DVDs, send it over, get results, rinse, repeat.  Hey, it’s in the same language, what’s to change?  Yet even with translated literature, a lack of cultural understanding could really impede rather than impact a people group for Christ.

I’ve seen people hide behind the supply chain in order to avoid contact.  One man would get so excited about how many “Starter Kits” could be sent out for Bible studies, yet he was reluctant to even step foot in a Bible study himself.  Doing ministry at arm’s distance was good enough for him, so don’t ask him to go any further.  While distribution participation is certainly a valid part of ministry, if we use it in place of interaction with others or even God then perhaps a rethink of priorities is in order.

And I’ve known so many pastors that have a conference booked practically every month, travelling all over their country.  Even Christians in my mission field expect us to go to any and every Christian conference available here, as if it were un-Christian not to go!  One youth minister I know in the States was beginning to show signs of “sign-up-itis” early in his ministry, and his senior pastor wisely gave him guidance on this.  To go to any conference, the youth pastor needed to be able articulate why he needed to go and what he expected to learn.  Upon return, he was to submit three things he learned from the conference and planned to implement in his ministry.  A year from the conference, the senior pastor wanted to review the three things with my friend to see how, if any, worked and judge from there if further training or conferences were necessary at that time.  To some this may sound a little harsh, but I see it as a pragmatic approach to discerning the appropriate time to attend conferences and to gauge the effectiveness in that specific ministry.

To be clear, I’m not knocking the concepts of conferences, programmes, media or literature.  If one of these methods is working in your particular ministry situation (and by working I mean bringing people into a brand-new relationship with Christ, not just attracting the Christians from the church across town), that’s a wonderful thing.  Keep it up!  But discernment is needed when presented with the overload of so many options in ministry.  Would this work in my culture?  How many conferences do I need to attend?

So why the big “sigh” earlier?  I’m noticing that the (very small) evangelical presence in my mission field is mimicking the trends of American Christian culture—at a lag of about 10-15 years.  I’ve had a lot of these moments with my nationals; as they enthusiastically explain this “new” way of ministry to me, I’m silently thinking, “Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt.  That ‘new way’ was already abandoned and they’re now on to something else.” And, in his eagerness to be just like the other, larger, urban-centred churches here, my elder is forgetting that our church is located in a sparsely populated rural area.  The local farmers would not be comfortable in a slick hipster Starbucks wannabe, nor do they even prefer to drink coffee.

The funny thing is, most of the people in our church would feel more comfortable if we were replicating another programme or method that was used successfully in another church.  It’s almost like they see it as a form of easy math: method that filled a lot of seats at Wherever Church=filling a lot of seats at our church.  Instead, we’re going in a different direction with our outreach services, not utilising a lot of the typically accepted practises in modern ministry because most would be off-putting to the culture around us.  We feel it would get in the way of how we should present the Gospel to a suspicious people who see God as an angry landlord.  Will it work?  Are we going in the right direction?  Time will tell, but I know most see it as a gamble and a “tested method” as a sure bet.

Even though we have the internet and lighting-fast ways of communicating in the 21st century, Western Europe is oblivious to the fact that those at the vanguard of modern ministry in the States have questioned an over-reliance on programmes, instead suggesting a focus on training and encouraging people on reading their Bible, plus building relationships within the church and those around them.  I’d rather the evangelicals here ignore the order of the last ten years of stateside trends and just skip to the realisation that making disciples of Christ requires genuine relationship building, and that takes time.  I don’t think there’s a trendy programme for that.  Yet.

No related posts.

Over at TheBodyBuilders.net, the latest newsletter focuses on the Top Five Mistakes in Support Raising.  I really identified with #5 “Jumped in Without Preparation” on the aspect of thinking I just knew who would give.  Just because someone is a wealthy Christian who adores missions doesn’t mean God will provide financial support for me through them, and I’m wrong to pre-judge anyone’s desire to give—or not.  #3 “I Asked Too Timidly” resonates more with me and God than with me and financial supporters.  I think that our mission field is such a tough one both spiritually and financially, and I didn’t want to “get my hopes up”, so I’d ask God that just a few people would show for worship.  Or I expected to not get access to the tools I needed for ministry or even day-to-day living, and God provided it anyway.  I’m not suggesting the Prosperity Path, but I think sometimes we can get dejected and swing very far the other way as if God can’t do anything and won’t provide at all.

As always, would love to hear in the comments your input on this and additional mistakes you’ve learned from your fundraising experience.

Related posts:

1. Top Five Myths in Support Raising
2. Obama Cost a Missionary Their Support
3. Today’s Economy and The Fundraising Dilemma

Early in our fact-finding trips to our mission field, we kept getting the sense that the nationals held a bit of a reservation about working with us.  They were certainly friendly and accommodating, but their comments and facial expressions held a barely discernible air of skepticism.  We knew that their interactions with a large majority of American missionaries had gone very poorly for a number of reasons, so we figured they were understandably hesitant to interact with us.

Fast-forward to about six months into living in the mission field, and the real reason for their hesitancy began to crystalise in my mind.  We had been here long enough to watch several short-term mission teams funnel in and out of the church, plus there were several other long-term missionaries attached to help.  Watching the interactions from the sidelines, I began to see what the nationals saw: most missionaries would only do ministry at arm’s distance.

This is going beyond the unfortunate handful of those with bad attitudes; actually, the majority were polite, respectful, and generally good people who were willing to help and work in many ways.  Yet even in the group of good-natured, well-intentioned people, there still existed a trace element of distance from the nationals.

Many of the missionaries lived near each other, and, in the case of singles, roomed with other missionaries, usually from the same country or stateside church.  Breaks and leisure time were spent using various social media to keep up with a very large amount of friends and family back home; in fact, this more-than-daily updating often overrode events or tasks during ministry time.  Any external interactions or attendance at non-church events were with other missionaries, including dinners or “get togethers” that excluded nationals.  While there is nothing wrong with comradery amongst those with a shared background experience, the lack of deviation from it gave the clear indication that the missionaries were not interested in engaging the nationals in the day-to-day experience of living.

From my sociology studies, I recognise that this is typical behaviour for most immigrants.  Understandably, there is a common bond through nationality; even I’ve experienced a bit of comfort when talking with a fellow American about a situation only we could understand or remarking about how odd a custom in this mission field seems through our eyes.  It also follows that immigrants would want to stay close to other immigrants when they share a language unlike where they now live.  But I had expected missionaries to differ purposely from this behaviour for two reasons: 1) in this field, there is not a language barrier (well, there’s an accent and word definition barrier at times, but for the most part we are all speaking English), and 2) their reason for being here is to effectively spread the Gospel, unlike most immigrants who are here primarily to escape a dangerous situation in their homeland or to make money.

The message of Arm’s Distance Ministry is: I’m here to get a task done, and I’ll be friendly to you during this ministry time, but when it’s over I’d rather not interact with you.  I’ve seen this happen quite a bit in the States as well in both paid and volunteer ministry, so I don’t believe it’s just a foreign missionary issue.  It just becomes that much clearer in the mission field, perhaps because of two distinctly different cultures interacting.

Is it our phraseology?  The term “outreach”, usually used for a special attractional church event, implies that we are reaching out to a place that we ourselves are not actually in.  Is it our training?  I am aware of one mission agency (note: this does not imply that they are all this way) that required a large amount of the “Way of Salvation” witnessing per month.  Were this required in my situation, I’d have to confront strangers to “make the quota”, yet not only does relational (and slow-building) ministry work better here, street witnessing would get me ostracised from my small village.

Perhaps it’s the Western concept of compartmentalisation of our lives that shapes our definition of reaching out to others during “church events” or when ministry is scheduled to happen—but that stops when the prescribed time over.  Maybe the few months or years the missionaries were scheduled to spend in the mission field made developing relationships with nationals seem moot if they planned to return permanently to the States.  Western Europeans can be much slower to “warm up” than most Americans are used to.  Whatever the reason was, it gave the impression to the nationals that the missionaries were primarily concerned with completing ministry tasks and nothing more.

While I had been pondering this concept for a while, it was an article linked from the How God Messed Up My Religion blog that pushed me to write this post.  The article recounts several lessons from a recent short-term mission trip to Africa.  Their team chose to stay at the orphanage they were helping, and a teacher from the orphanage told her, “people come to help, but they don’t really want to be with us and live our life with us.”  While it’s understandable that Westernised Christians would find it hard to live a week in third-world conditions, the sad reality is that the same sentence could easily be said by our Western European nationals today.

The word “missional” gets bandied about a lot these days, and it’s definition seems to be still forming.  As I understand it, the emphasis is on the body of believers acting like me, a foreign missionary, instead of a “Holy Huddle” in the church with the onus on the pastor as the “Hired Gun”.  I think it’s a great idea, but from what I’ve witnessed in the mission field, we’re sometimes not very good about being missional ourselves.  Whether it’s fear, or intimidation, or the fact that so few are encouraged to make missions, or a particular mission field, a lifelong (or at least open-ended) commitment, arm’s distance ministry can only go so far.  The nationals appear to understand this better than we do.

Related posts:

1. When The World Comes To Your Field
2. Pulling Your Hand Out of a Bucket
3. Staying Home For Christmas