What Would You Die For?

I recently sent out a survey to a list of pastors. This survey is to test or challenge theological consistencies. Example: Truth is only found in God's Word, the Bible. The categories for answers are (a) ESSENTIAL, one so strongly believe it is important for a Christian to embrace this theology they would DIE for it; (b) PREFERENCE, meaning that, though it is important or true, one would not die for that belief but would vigorously argue that it is something all Christians should adhere to; (c) NEGOTIABLE, something one is not sure is true or important for someone to believe. It may be personally what a person believes, but would not impose it on another culture nor is it a salvation issue.

Theology, as I have argued before, is theory based on history and cultural context. Some issues of theology are important enough to die for as it reflects the core of who we are as followers of Christ. These are the essentials. On the other hand, some doctrines are based more on preference, something we believe the Bible clearly teaches that are universal, such as modesty. But the question then becomes, how is modesty defined?

There are many customs and habits that Scripture is silent about or seemingly acceptable for that period in history that we would not ascribe to today, therefore negotiable. An example would be Paul'’s admonishment to greet others with a holy kiss - certainly a New Testament practice, but not necessarily a universal practice for all ages. That is a relatively easy example, but what about the issue of drinking blood or polygamy, which is not practiced in western cultures but is in other cultures? When it comes to the issues obliging people of other faiths, the challenges become even more intense. Is using the Arabic word for God, Allah, acceptable for a Christian believer?

If you would like to test your own theological consistencies, click on the subject line that is a link to ten questions. No one is able to track who takes the survey so all answers are anonymous. So, is it wrong for a Christian to drink beer? From your point of view, is it essential they don't, a preference or negotiable?

Dark Side of Ego

My brother Bill (http://www.Extensionmanagment.com) works with CEO'’s and other leaders. He sent this to me the other day and I thought it was pretty good.

After leaders climb the ladder of success, some have forgotten how they made that climb. They no longer listen to subordinates, stakeholders, family members, coaches or anyone else with opposing views. They suffer a terminal professional disease... i.e. Egotism -

Ego-tism -- An exaggerated sense of self-importance ..

Steps to the Fall

1. Self Confidence .. normally a positive thing
2. Self Promotion .. look/listen to me
3. Self Admiration .. believing their own press release
4. Self Worship .. becoming their own god
5. Self Exclusion .. the rules don't apply to someone like me
6. Self Indulgence .. "I've" paid my dues.. "I" deserve it
7. Self Destruction.. the loss of family, reputation, creditability and more.


Most Leaders who fall into the dark side of ego seldom recognize it. They remind me of the pastor who was having trouble with the deacons in the church. He created a whole sermon targeting those with whom he had an axe to grind. He blasted away, starring down his adversaries. Standing at the back of the church shaking hands with the parishioners as they left, the head deacon grabbed the pastor'’s hand and said, "Reverend, great sermon. If they had been here this morning you would have nailed them."

A Monk Becomes A Pastor

As I was walking back from the village to the campus a guy came up behind me and says, “Hello doctor, out for a walk?”

Pretty obvious, I thought to myself, but knowing he was just being pleasant I replied, “Yeah, getting a little exercise.” Since his pace was faster than mine I expected him to go on by, but he slowed and spoke again.

“I wanted to take your class, doctor” (I don’t have a name, just a title), “but I am getting your notes from the other students. Maybe I can write you and you can help me in my research?”

I didn’t know this guy and wondered how he knew me or was even interested in cultural anthropology. Since my mornings are filled with teaching and I visit with students in the afternoons, I wasn’t anxious to counsel during my exercise time, but he kept talking and I kept listening. Half interested in his story he blurted out, “I was once a Buddhist monk.”

“You were a what,” I asked? Intrigued I asked him how he came to be a Christian. Here’s his story.

Peter (a Christian name he took after conversion) grew up in a Buddhist home. After high school he joined a monastery, which made his parents very proud. The monastery was on an island in Burma where he was isolated from the world for six years. Leaving the monastery he lived as a monk in a village for a year. He said he didn’t like other religions, especially Muslims. Peter said there were two churches in the village where he lived, a Baptist church and an Assemblies of God.

“The AG church always has loud singing,” he said, “which we Buddhist find offensive. That kind of music is like a sin to our spirit”

Peter decided to go to go to the pastor of the church and confront him about this music. He expected the pastor to be rude and ready to debate him on religion. But the pastor was not rude at all, was kind to Peter and they began to talk. Peter was so impressed with the kind spirit of the pastor that he started attending the church services. Six months later, after hearing the message about Jesus Christ he became a believer. As he grew in his faith he began telling his family and friends about Christ.

“What did your parents think of you becoming a Christian,” I asked?

“They were against it,” he said. “My sister told me that I had become a disgrace to the family, my parents told me that it was my decision but they were not interested in hearing the Gospel. I even received a letter from a group of people in my village saying they would kill me. But, others have said they I was welcome and wanted to hear more.”
Peter is now working on his PhD and preparing to return to Burma as a pastor.

When we arrived back at the campus we said goodbye and I told him if I could help him in his dissertation I would be happy to do. As he walked away I thought of God’s amazing grace, how a monk was now preparing to be a Christian pastor. My walk had revealed another narrative of Grace. God even uses loud praise and worship to bring people unto Himself.

Values and Culture

One of the stickiest issues when dealing with culture is that of values. As with all things, values are culturally driven. What seems to be a lie to one person may be a face saving maneuver to another. What is clearly stealing in one culture is considered borrowing in a different context. Those who see things in black and white criticize this form of discussion as compromise and promoting relativism. “It’s either a sin or it’s not,” one student barked at me many years ago. “Tell me then,” I replied, “when your wife asks if she looks fat in her new dress, do you tell her the truth or do you tell her she looks lovely and not fat at all?”

All cultures are bound by their prison of disobedience, in personal sin and to institutional law. What I find interesting in the study below is that, at least as it relates to national corruption, that the countries with the least percentage of corruption are nations with a Christian foundation. The top four countries are hardly considered evangelical nations (Switzerland is predominately Catholic, 16% of population attend church). Why is the U.S., considered by some to be the most Christian of all nations, number 10? Why are Russia, China and India at the bottom of this list? Is it because they are emerging nations using any means, by hook or crook to get ahead, or is there a fundamental moral wolrd view that does perceive bribery as being corrupt but merely being shrewd (as in nation 19) in business? What does this study say to you?


BRIBE PAYERS INDEX
A score of 10 indicates a perception of no corruption

1. Switzerland (7.81)
2. Sweden (7.62)
3. Australia (7.59)
4. Austria (7.50)
5. Canada (7.46)
6. UK (7.39)
7. Germany (7.34)
8. Netherlands (7.28)
9. Belgium (7.22)
10. U.S. (7.22)
11. Japan (7.10)
12. Singapore (6.78)
13. Spain (6.63)
14. United Arab Emirates (6.62)
15. France (6.50)
16. Portugal (6.47)
17. Mexico (6.45)
18. Hong Kong (6.01)
19. Israel (6.01)
20. Italy (5.94)
21. South Korea (5.83)
22. Saudi Arabia (5.75)
23. Brazil (5.65)
24. South Africa (5.61)
25. Malaysia (5.59)
26. Taiwan (5.41)
27. Turkey (5.23)
28. Russia (5.16)
29. China (4.94)
30. India (4.62)
Source: Transparency International 2006 survey

Horizontal Leadership

In my last post I discussed the difference between those who are visionaries, teachers and practioners. In the Body of Christ they are all important. Some people have more vision than others; some can teach the vision better than the visionary, and the practioner sometimes doesn’t have the vision or experience to teach. The role of the visionary and teacher are vital. Unfortunately, like all things with a body, the high profile gifts of a visionary or teacher oftentimes dwarf those who in fact do the work, the practioner.

Like most corporations, the mission industry structure is usually top down. The western church functions so much like a business firm that we have adopted its language, thus we have CEO’s, vice presidents, department heads all the way down to the people who actually churn out a product – in our case, a church plant.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this structure; doesn’t make any difference whether it’s right or wrong, it’s a system that we are stuck with. We pray our CEO’s will learn “servant leadership,” and we tell our teachers that they are now “facilitators.” In many organizations, certainly not all, neither the visionary or the teacher has planted a church, wrestled with the pain of growing a church and haven’t spent twenty-four hours in a village among the unreached people they proclaim to have heart for. I know of one CEO who failed on the field, didn’t even plant a cell group, didn’t get along with the nationals or colleagues on the field but is now head of his sending agency! Go figure. But I digress.

In a perfect world, with a perfect church the perfect structure is not vertical but horizontal. What shall we call it? How about the Jesus model? Jesus knew how to cast the vision; He did ministry (not in a five star but something between a foxes hole and a birds nest), and he taught/coached in the process. His followers wanted Him to be the CEO of the Kingdom, but He turned it down. He could have been the great rabbi/guru, but He wasn’t content just to tell others how to do it, He actually did Kingdom work, He taught by example.

There are very few people that possess all the abilities that characterize a discipler, even though that is what Jesus called us to be. The best we can hope for is a visionary who can see what needs to be done based on having touched and smelled the battle that he is asking the practioner to commit their lives to; for teachers who instruct out of experience, not mere academic theory; through their failures as well as successes in the trenches of real life. A true servant leader is one, like our Lord, who walked the talk, who led through doing, whose chief aim was to do the will of the Father. He did it all by serving alongside, no, in the midst, of those He came to serve.

No Easy Way

I was already in bed when the phone rang. The guy on the other end was a prior student and friend working in one of the former Soviet Union countries. He was calling to get some advice. The work is slow, the language is difficult and after 11 years in the country he said he “felt trapped.” His sending agency won’t give him permission to move to another field where he feels he would be more effective.

“I remember you saying in class,” he recounted, “that there are no more easy places left in the world to serve, only the hard fields.”

Of course there are no easy fields; everything is relative. However, there are countries that are seemingly easier. Countries where the language is manageable, receptive is high, good schools for kids, easy transportation, temperate weather, all make life easier. This guy lives in a place that has none of the above. I doubt that my advice was helpful and as I hung up the phone I was reminded once again the importance of finding one’s niche in ministry.

Evaluating ministry is tough. I recently posted a question to some pastors in the US on what type of missionaries their congregations are drawn to. Their answers were revealing. People who get support are those who have a good media presentation, are articulate, going to fields that are appealing, where there are results. Not one said their mission programs focused on a people group or unreached areas of the world. The heck with strategy …if they have cute kids they will get the support (obviously I’m being facetious, but I’m not too far off from reality).

Another relative ministry is vision casting. True, without vision the people perish, but it’s relative easier to talk about what needs to be done versus those who are doing it. My friend is just a meat and potatoes guy, daily struggling to help the national church, teaching theology and working with pastors. Last week I taught a group of twelve men who are preparing to go to the villages of their country, the backwaters where there are few, if any, believers; places where persecution is often coupled with resistance. The vision casters talk about reaching the nations for Christ, these guys are doing it.

In God’s grand design, we need the visionaries, they motivate others to be involved (primarily financially), and that’s a good thing. But, while the vision casters are staying in nice hotels, wine and dined by the American church, the guys that are really doing the work are marginalized. The vision casters will show the faces of the practioners in their media presentations but the national worker often lives a life of poverty and discouragement (sometimes the "trickle down theory in supporting nationals is just that, a trickle, at best). In spite of the hardships they rejoice in their privilege to serve their Savior.

This post isn’t about dishing anyone; it’s a reminder that we all need to keep missions in balance. Visionaries, practitioners, facilitators, coaches, evangelists, teachers are all important work. However, an attractive young couple does not a mission strategy make. Relatively speaking, getting up front of people showing a presentation, casting a vision what needs to be done, is a lot harder than actually doing it. There are no easy fields, but there are some fields that are definitely more difficult.

Narrative of Grace

What is it about Christ Jesus that draws people? Skeptics say that only the poor and uneducated people become followers of Christ. It can’t be they intellectually believe in His message, marginalized people are drawn to Christianity so they will have place in society. Marx believed religion was “an opium” for the masses, a mind altering activity so that people could cope their miserable conditions. For some, perhaps this argument is valid, but certainly not accurate for many true followers of Christ.

As I sat and listened to Nakul’s story it was truly a remarkable narrative of God’s grace on one man’s life. He told me that at birth he was so tiny (I am guessing born premature), his father, believed he would not live so he tossed him into a pit. A cousin rescued Nakul from the trenched and nursed him. When he was nearly two years old his father came to take him back to their home. Nakul’s mother died before he was three and he has no memory of her. Nakul’s father did not remarry and with five children he could not manage his household so placed Nakul into a Catholic school where he remained until he was eighteen. I asked him if he learned about Jesus while in school and he said no. He learned songs, even prayers, but they did not read the Bible or have classes on the Christian faith.

From high school he worked menial jobs -- breaking rocks, farm labor, manning a PCO station (Public Call Outlets, private run business where anyone with a telephone line can set up a booth from their house and charge people to use their phone). His existence was the typical life that millions of Indian young men live every day.

There was a pastor of a small Mennonite Church in the area who would often use Nakul’s PCO. Each time the pastor came he talked to Nakul about Christ and invited him to church. At first Nakul just argued with the pastor, not interested in the Christian religion. Out of persistence from the pastor and curiosity by Nakul, he eventually went to the church and heard how God loved him and that He gave His only Son Jesus Christ that he might have salvation.

“The one thing in my life I never had,” said Nakul, “was to know that someone loved me. I never knew my mother, cast aside by my father. My brothers and sisters tried to help me in life, but it wasn’t until I heard the Gospel that I understood what it meant to be loved by someone.”

Though Nakul grew up in difficult circumstances you can tell he has keen intellect and a ferocious reader. He eventually received a scholarship at a seminary where he earned an MTh. Nakul is still very much, what many would consider, a common man. Married at the age of thirty-five, he now has one daughter and talks often of his family, people in his life he loves.

Mother Tersa use to say that the greatest poverty in the world was not the lack of money, but the poverty of love and compassion. Whether one is born rich or poor, high caste or low caste, the one common denominator is that people long to loved, that they matter to someone. Nakul was blessed to hear the message, “While we were still in our sins, Christ loved us and gave Himself for us.” It is the love of Christ that draws people to Himself. It is the love of Christ that motivates us to love others and tell the story how God loves them.

#5 Why I Love My Job

The fifth reason why I love my job has not always been so. In the early years of my ministry telling the story about our work was rewarding. To tell churches in the U.S. about the Pokot and Turkana people I worked with in the bush was something I felt was educational, therefore beneficial. The transformation of an animist to a believer in the One true living God was a testimony of His power and goodness. People were fascinated with my stories as well as with pictures of people right of National Geographic.

When I became a trainer, coach and consultant to missionaries the story did not seem to be as interesting, it didn’t have that ZING factor. Mission’s is an emotional enterprise. One can become emotional about a half-naked bushman becoming a follower of Christ, but it’s hard to work up much of a heart wrenching illustration about helping others create an effective strategy for cross-cultural ministry. Of course I see the exciting transformation in the lives of my students each time I teach. People, of all ages, educational background, as well as ethnic/linguistic background come into my class with ho-hum expectations and leave with a renewed vision of how they can actually become agents of transformation!

Though it is difficult to capture the passion or emotion of my work, it is a story that I still believe is worth telling people about. The transformation of a soul, from dark to light, from ignorance to understanding, is a work of God. However, it it is the presentation of His followers that is the catalyst, the bridge, from Word to faith. Unless the missionary from Korea, Ukraine, India, America, Nicaragua grasp the dynamics of cross-cultural communication the message of hope and life will lie dormant as ungerminated seed on the side of the road.

The message of Christ is more often ignored than it is rejected. Pastors and missionaries drone through their message and irrelevant theology, undergirded by stale orthodoxy. Our speech is largely Bible babble rather than compelling reasons for people to turn from their indifference to God, their consuming lusts, their superstitions, to a message of hope and meaning. The message of the Cross will always be an offense to the majority, but I see nothing in Scripture that commands His messengers be so. If they hate us, let it be for the truth that we deliver in a culturally relevant way, not because we are careless in how we present the message in their context.

For me, the zing factor happens when I receive a note, in broken English, from a former student in Nepal who is working with a tribal group in the forest,

“Until I took your class I did not truly understand how to talk to the Raute people. Now I know better how to talk to them.”

Though I will never see this man's work or be able to take pictures of the half-naked forest dwellers, his story is partly my story. It's a story, not just of people coming to know the God of heaven, but how God uses all of us -- me, people who support missions and the Nepalese missionary who serves a people that God is drawing to Himself. I've got a great job and I love it!

Kingdom Lessons Learned On The Train

Not sure why but the day after 26 hours on a train is a lot like jetlag. No time change, obviously, but the constant motion on the tracks drains me. Eating rice with your fingers is an acquired skill, compounded with the swaying of the back and forth coach, it’s a wonder I get any thing in my mouth. It will take a couple of days to get my equilibrium. Eating supper last night at the house was odd as my plate didn’t move and I had the luxury of a fork.

The train home was empty, which is rare. 11 million people travel by train each day so riding in a coach that had just ten people was a blessing. When boarding I shared a compartment with a businessman. He was a nice guy but I jumped at the chance to switch to a side lower berth where I could be alone. He invited me to have a shot of whiskey with him, but I declined. It’s illegal to drink on the train, but many do.

Indians are very nosy people or, perhaps, just curious. The business guy asked me the standard questions, “Where are you from? What do you do? Why are you in India? What companies do you work with?” I answer most of the questions, “I live in Delhi, am a consultant, different companies, teach anthropology.” When it gets too personal or I just get tired of answering questions I smile and say, “That’s classified information, sorry.” I don’t feel obligated to satisfy all their curiosities.

Some other guys down the aisle must have been drinking as well as they were loud, laughed and played Punjabi music most of the way. I wished I had remembered my headphones to drown out the chatter.

I have been reading McLaren’s latest book, The Secret Message Of Jesus: Uncovering The Truth That Could Change Everything, which is about the real meaning of the Kingdom. His contention is that we, the church, have missed the point of our Lord’s teaching, that the Kingdom is not the future, but now. While our focus seems to be conversion, programs and building local mini-kingdom’s, he asserts that our attention should be in solving present problems such as disease, poverty and injustice. Nothing particularly new in his argument, but as my train passed through the villages I was struck again by the dismal way so many people have to live. Is my role, the role of all of us in evangelical circles, so out of whack with what the Kingdom is really all about?

As I ponder these thoughts, I get off the train and a woman, old, in rags, half-blind, stands before me with her hand out. I reach into my pocket for some money, knowing that no matter how many people I give to I haven’t solved anything. Are we missing the point? Perhaps it’s time of for a paradigm shift in how we live our lives. Status quo doesn’t quite satisfy.

Day Two on the Rajhdani Express

One really doesn’t sleep on a train; it’s more like dozing on and off the length of the journey. When the train stops at a station I am aware we’re not moving. I get up to use the toilet at 3 a.m. and it doesn’t make any difference if it’s the Indian or Western style, it all is a direct shot to the tracks below. It’s just matter if you want to squat or sit to make a deposit. Back on my bunk my head is cramped, my back is sore, but at least I don’t have to climb to the upper birth to resettle.

At 6 a.m. a guy pokes his head into my berth and ask if I want coffee or chai. “Nay,” I tell him plainly as I role over to get another twenty winks. At 7:30 breakfast is served. I ordered the night before a non-veg. breakfast meaning an omelet. As I unfurled the foil from the tiny container, along with my egg are English peas and four French fries; the allies are with me, neither of which are much help. Scraping off the peas, I place my omelet between the two dry pieces of bread that is a part of my dining pleasure. Not bad. The tea was good.

I decided to travel by train on this trip because I wanted to see the Indian countryside. I could have flown and the trip would have only been two hours instead of the nearly twenty-four by Rahjdani Express. Living in the capital city is wonderful as it is progressive and, in some places, modern. In the bubble of the city, however, I forget that most of the population still lives in the villages or smaller cities. As I look out the dirty window from my coach I am reminded of the India I met fourteen years ago.

Because it is the monsoon season the landscape is lush green with fields of rice, sugarcane, wheat and assortment of vegetables. The goat’s meander in the fields looking for grass, boys sit on top of their water buffalo’s all day long as they guide them to pasture. Women carry water in round pots on their heads or hips, but these days the vessels are more likely to be plastic than copper. Their sari’s and head coverings have the flavor of village life in the time of Jesus in Palestine rather than modern India.

Of course it’s not paradise. Trash litters the tracks. As the train passes through villages the houses by the tracks are the slum dwellers, landless people who erect any covering of stick and plastic just to have a place to sleep. Kids play near stagnate water, where the pigs and garbage are mixed. The sunrise squatters, as I call them, bear their back end, oblivious to the passengers on the train. Without latrines the best they can hope for would be a bush to conceal their morning ritual, but privacy is not a part of their worldview so an open field seems to be work just fine.

How different these villagers are to those who share my coach. Most of the men have a brief case and cell phones. I notice a lady two sectors down wearing blue jeans with a stylish top. Young people wear shorts, T-shirts that read, “Trouble Is On It’s Way,” and little kids play with their electronic games with their continuous and irritating beeps. The language around me is mostly Hindi, but there is a good mixture of English and local languages as well. I am not looked upon as odd or out of place, just another traveler from a different part of the world.

At 6:45 p.m. we slowly pull into the Secunderabad station. I gather my things and head for the door. This train will continue on another twelve hours to Bangalore so the young girl may have claimed my berth as I stepped from the coach. On the platform a man with a sign of the school I will be teaching is waiting for me. Just one more hour of traveling and I will lie down on a bed that doesn’t move.

Long Train To Hyderabad

I gazed into the night sky, watching the rain hitting the awning at H. Nizamuddin railway station while waiting for the Rajdhani Express to arrive. I was glad my train departed from this station rather than the main station in New Delhi as HN was forty-five minutes closer to our house. When it rains in this city the streets are easily flooded and traffic, always congested, becomes a snarl as auto rickshaws, buses, cars, motorbikes all try to navigate through pools of water.

I have been riding trains in this country for fifteen years and it is always an adventure. Huddled with other passengers under the canopy I watched as porters pulled hand carts loaded with freight, coolies carrying luggage on their heads for travelers, beggars pulling on my shirt asking for a handout, hawkers selling everything from chains and locks for personal luggage to fruit and bottled water. At other times I’ve watched rats darting in-between posts to find food or playing on the tracks below. No rats tonight, too much rain.

As my train arrives I look for coach A3. I get on and find that my seat is in the middle of a three-tier sleeper and I’m disappointed. My ticket reads a lower side berth so I wonder if I boarded the on the wrong coach? I have plenty of time, so I quickly lock my bags under the lower berth seat and walk down the train platform. Sure enough, I got on AS3; A3 was the second-to-last car at the end of the train.

When I finally find my proper place a young lady had parked herself on seat number five.

“Would you prefer the lower berth?” she asked, hoping it didn’t matter to me.

“Yes,” I said kindly but with firmness, “I’m getting too old to climb up and down to the upper berth.”

You could tell she wasn’t pleased and I suspected I would have to negotiate more to get my assigned seat. I have learned in this country that people are willing to inconvenience others for their convenience. As a student of culture, I’ve learned the rules of how they play the game. If it were an older woman or elderly man I would have gladly made the adjustment, but if status means anything in this society, and it surely does, my grey hair trumped her youthful aggressive gender.

She did not budge, but I was willing to wait. It would not be until the train manager came and inspected our tickets or after supper that I would need my bed, so I sat next to another man, took out a book and began to read. The train pulled out of the station on time, 8:50 p.m.

I refused supper, as I was still full from the lunch earlier in the day. Sandy and I went with some friends to Kareem’s, a Muslim restaurant in the heart of a Muslim colony not far from where we lived. The mutton gravy, dal (bean gravy), chicken and roti (bread), was still heavy on my stomach.

After everyone had finished their supper the porter came by and distributed our bedding. Two clean white sheets, a pillow, washcloth and a blanket. They all looked like army issue bedding, especially the brown coarse blanket. The young girl slipped out of the compartment to wash her hands and I took charge of my space. When she returned I was making my bed. Knowing that I had the advantage she climbed to the berth above me without a word of protest.

For the next two hours I read, a novel I picked up for the journey. I seldom read fiction, but when you know you are going to sitting in one place for twenty hours you look for anything that will engage your mind, even if it has no eternal value. I only read Indian novels and search for those that can tell a good story and that which will also give me insights into the culture.

This particular book is about a young north Indian writer with two great struggles -- writers block and, more significantly, his loss of desire for his lover of fifteen years. To read the story you’d think he’d hardly have time to think about a narrative as he is consumed with reliving, in graphic detail, the passion he once had for the slender, dark haired and fair woman. I wade through the frequent salacious scenes, but more intrigued with the settings of his apartment in Vasant Kunj, Chandi Chowk, Lajpat Nagar and the social interaction of the players in his life. To read from the mind’s eye of another with the benefit of living in this same context, having touched, smelled and seen with my physical eye the word pictures he is painting, makes for engaging distraction.

As my fellow passengers settle in for the night, I turn off my reading light and try to get comfortable on the one inch shorter than needed slab that is my bed. The rhythm of the swaying train and the tempo of metal wheels on steel tracks lull me to sleep. Just nineteen more hours and I will arrive in Hyderabad.

(to be continued)

#4 Why I Love My Job

I contend, as well as teach, that the key to success in working overseas is job satisfaction. People say they leave the field because of illness, conflict with associates, finances, persecution, culture stress and a host of other things, but almost any of those obstacles can be overcome if a person really feels they have, as is the title of my book, found their niche in their work.

My niche is teaching cross-cultural studies. Going cross-culturally has different levels. C1 is "like-culture" (mono), which is 90% of ministry activity. C2 is a different culture (better described as social environment) but similar, e.g. middle class Caucasians working with poor illiterate or Americans working in London. C3 is crossing a significant cultural boundary (middle class white American learning enough Arabic to work with Egyptians in Detroit). C4 (not plastic explosives) is anyone who moves from their country into another country, learns the host culture language, customs and social organization. This is the emic principle, becoming an insider. Having been blessed, not only having lived as a C4 worker but being educated in the discipline of how to study and different culture environments, I have a unique and fulfilling career niche.

Globalization means that our world is smaller and culture’s are merging into a collective lingua franca. Those who do not understand the dynamics of culture make the false assumption that similar equal same, believing that just a tweaking of presentation is all that is needed to effectively communicate across cultural barriers. It’s a fatal flaw. Look at any company, church, social or even government policy that is successful and you will find that someone in that organization knows how to read the culture of their market.

I recently taught a class where some MK’s from Australia was going back to the country they were raised. The director of the class warned me, that some of them didn’t feel they needed my class. They grew up in the culture; they didn’t need a cross-cultural course. I suppose it would be true, if they were going to serve exactly in the same place of their parents, among the same people they grew up with. IF, however, they dared to serve among a different geographical, ethnic, socio-economic or age group, they would need to learn the importance of cross-cultural studies. As I gave my presentation a few actually caught on and the lights of cultural understanding started to flicker.

Tomorrow I get on a train, travel 24 hours to a remote part of the country to teach nationals on how to communicate the Gospel in a culturally relevant way. My job is unique; few can do it. I truly have job satisfaction. I love my job.

The Power of the Physical

For as long as I knew my mother-in-law she observed one solemn ritual, Decoration Day. In the south, each spring local cemeteries would set aside a day for this special occasion where relatives would go and put flowers on the headstone of their departed loved ones. It’s also a time to remove unsightly weeds and other debris, a type of spring-cleaning for the graveyard. Memorial Day, which initially established to remember fallen soldiers, has taken over Decoration Day, but has the same function.

Of course my mother-in-law understood the remains under the sod had no spiritual significance, at least I don’t think she did, but rather the gravesite was a touchstone, a physical connection to the one who was no more. Catholics in South America has a similar practice called All Saints Day. Some of them have a superstitious notion that by praying to their kin the dead relatives will grant their requests, or perhaps take the request to the Virgin Mary, Saint Peter or maybe even to Jesus Himself. Buddhist pray to their ancestors. Even my aged and sickly Hindu neighbor told me the other day he prays to his mother that she will grant his wish to let him die. Idols, temples, churches, saints even cemeteries are “sacred space,” for us mortals. Why do people do revere these things? It’s the power of the physical. What we see, touch, posses we can conceptualize as real. What we cannot see is perhaps just myth.

Capitalism and the free market economy is the driving force behind the power of the physical. My sister-in-law sells cars, but not just any car, she sells BMW’s. Ah, but she sells more than automobiles, she sells image. If you drive a BMW you are making a statement that you are successful. Certainly a BMW is a nice car, but it has the basics you will find on a Ford or Honda, or even a horse cart for that matter. Four round wheels, a place to sit, a steering system and a power source. Depending on image preference, capitalism will steer (no pun intended) a demographic buyer toward the $40K silver roadster or $40K double cab pickup. Both conjure a powerful physical symbol in the automotive market.

Because we are physical people, living in a physical world, our value system is influenced by our material world. A person's weight, color of hair, whiteness of teeth, skin tone, dress, social associations, house, the comforts one strives for, all point to the physical. Fat means lazy, dark skin means lower class (or caste...or terroist), plastic means poor, country club means status. We kill, cheat, horde for the our cherished physical symbols.

The church is not immune to the power of the physical. The buildings they erect, the music they perform, the programs they create for the special focus groups in their congregation, are all a part of the emphasis on the physical. As I listen to pastors the topic generally is about the three “P’s,” programs, presentation and property. In missions, the focus is on churches planted, fostering a people movement, reproducing the western physical in a foreign context.

What’s the harm? Nothing, except that there are two dimensions of man, one physical the other is the metaphysical (see 8/22 post). So dominant is the physical that it not just overwhelms, it often annihilates the spiritual. The more one buys into the physical the less we are even aware of our “real” needs, which is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. When was the last time you heard, in a church business meeting, a serious discussion in the budget to help the homeless, the drug addicts, elderly or handicapped in the community? How ironic that helping others with their physical may be the instrument God will use to lead us to the metaphysical.

As I write this I am aware of the tree trunk in my own eye. I am not only consumed with the physical, I fret and worry about it. Am I doing enough to satisfy my donors who want a report on those ‘saved’ or churches planted under my ministry? How can I make my presentation, my newsletters more attractive so that people will see that I’m a good investment for their support? How do I look before my peers? Do they see me as intellectually capable, or merely an intellectual-wannabe dufus? Do I really care as much about the rag pickers I see on my morning walks as I do about my retirement portfolio? Am I like the young ruler who turned away from Jesus, so close to the kingdom, but walked away sad because he had much wealth he was unable to part with?

Of course Jesus was the antithesis of those dominated by the physical. He didn’t dress for success, he ate with the wrong crowd, blessed and cared for the wrong people. The only image he was concerned about was reflecting the image of His Father. “If you’ve seen me work,” he told Philip, “you have seen the Father.” If I am to ever break this bondage of the physical I must fully embrace His words, “Seek first the kingdom [metaphysical] of God and these other things [physical] will be provided for you.”

#3 Why I Love My Job

There is a difference between working with, working for, working alongside national church leaders. There is a lot of talk about “facilitating” the national church, but, like the details, somewhere the devil is in the definition.

When a North American organization states they are working with the national church, many times they mean they have a program or agenda and they have found nationals who provide local bodies to be a part of the program. Many of the facilitating projects in the world are American led and financed, working with nationals. In the grand scheme of things, this is not always bad, but it is not exactly what I do.

A few years back I heard a pastor of a national church say, “Foreign missionaries coming to this country should submit themselves to the national church. If they want to help our country they should serve under the direction of the national leadership.” What he was saying was the role of expat’s should be to work for them. If I was under thirty years old, had no experience overseas, I could see where that might be a rational suggestion. Provided the national leader knew what he was doing, wouldn’t try to exploit free labor and was willing to mentor me in the process of learning culture and ministry. The leader who made this comment is a wonderful person, but he’s not even a good pastor (working with people), so I would hate to think what type of a mentor he would be. Being over forty, ah, over fifty, with thirty years of service and being an independent type, the “S” word is not something I am comfortable with. At this point in my life I don’t want to work for even my most respected national leaders. Like borrowing money, that would be a recipe to end a wonderful friendship.

The reason I love my job at this stage of life is that I truly do work alongside the national church. Because my training is unique (a future post), I do not have to build anything, fund anything (except my training expenses) and, I am not lording over others nor being lorded over. Working alongside national pastors I do not get involved in their finances, politics or internal conflicts. Being a true facilitator is probably the most effective way a North American can serve the national church today.


And, what wonderful national leaders I have worked alongside! In the second term of our work in Kenya I released all responsibilities and decision making to the national pastors. It took awhile, not always a smooth transition, but today they are some great leaders I now visit and facilitate. In India, those I work alongside, are people with vision and unusually high ethical standards. Many of these leaders have their PhD’s, have a passion for Christ and know the difference between with and for. When I go to other countries, like Serbia recently, Moldova in November, I do so knowing that what I provide in training is for their benefit, not my own.


Admittedly, my job is unique. A combination of having the right educational credentials, practical and real life cross-cultural experience, and nearly two million road miles, I am, not one of a kind, but one of the few, who can truly serve in a facilitative role to the church. At this stage in life is it any wonder…I love my job.

38 Years of Travel

We met in February, walked down the aisle six months later. We really didn’t know much about each other when we started our journey together, and after thirty-eight years, today, we still don’t always get it exactly right. But, we’re doing better. I can’t imagine what the trek would have been without you. Happy anniversary Sandy.

The Gap Between the Physical and the Spiritual

Sometimes my readings come together as a fusion of thought. Yancey (whose book is like a like a good cigar that is to be savored one delightful draw at a time, not puffed as though it was a cigarette on a two minute break) writes of the power of harnessing the physical. “Whoever masters the material world,” he writes, “determines future’s fate.”

Our forefathers harnessed the power of horses, then steam and electricity. Today’s harness is nuclear energy and the microchip. The nations who have the capability to control the physical are advanced; those without such capabilities are regulated to “developing countries,” which means less advanced, even backward.

At the same time I’m reading Paul Hiebert’s book on epistemology. I’m familiar with Hiebert's work so this is more review than new thought, but his reasoning on physics and metaphysics coincided with Yancey’s readings. Aristolean thought divides the world into two dimensions, thus dualism postulates the physical and spiritual world. Hiebert makes the argument that the “reductionist” view of only seeing the world in either one of these spheres can be fatal. For the materialist, his world is detrmined by what he/she can possess and control (a microcosm of state control of material). How one looks, what does for a living, authority, what ones possess or strives to hold is the land of the physical. To focus on the “other world,” where one lives life in light of only the spiritual dimension makes one a monk, sadu or perhaps a fundamental zealot. These are the people who are often cited as being so heavnley minded they are of no earthly use.

The key, in both Yancey and Hiebert’s conclusion is recognize the balance (and isn’t that the key to everything?). Hiebert calls it critical tension, others call it holism. The reality is that, though there may be constitutionally a separation of church and state, there is no such thing as separation from the physical and the metaphysical. Humanity operates in the physical, but it’s transitory. We can neither totally harness it, nor are we to make it our all consuming passion. The spritual realm is real, but elusive. Man can seek the One whose voice he has not heard, his hand that he cannot see, but it is a world of conjecture until he leaves the physical.

After my readings this morning I went down stairs to visit my eighty-five year old landlord. Slowly growing weaker, he lamented that soon he will not have the strength to make it to the bathroom and wondered, “Who will clean me when I urinate or mess in my bed? How will I bathe when I stink so bad I cannot bathe myself?” He prays to die, but does not know the God to whom he seeks help. He no longer cares about controlling the physical, instead he longs for the release with a hope there is a spiritual dimension where he will not suffer. I walk away, knowing that his struggle today will not be mine. Because of ambition, vanity, pride, I will serve the material more than the metaphysical. By concentrating on the material I will control my fate. One day I will be like my friend and realize that’s not true at all.

Why I Love My Job #2

Many years ago I came across a video series called “Faces of Culture.” I still use segments of this anthropological series in my classes as I discuss kinship, economics, religion and worldview. Each segment begins with clips with faces of people around the world. One of the great perks of my job is being able to see the magnificent world that God created, the faces of culture.

When I started out in ministry I had no real knowledge, or interest, in people of other cultures. I was trained in mono-theology, mono-methodolgy and had every intention of living my life working in a mono-cultural pastorate. Not only did I not understand the world beyond my borders, I had little knowledge of “others” in my own community. My parallax of vision, as Tippett describes it, was culturally determined. It’s nothing short of a miracle that I have not lived my life in a mono-cultural existence.

Not all people in my profession have the privilege of experiencing the many faces of culture as I have, but everyone in my profession at least get an opportunity to see the other faces of culture God has created. I’ve seen the faces of the short, (Aka pygmies of Congo), the tall (Masai or Kenya), the brown (Quechua of Bolivia), the yellow (Lisu of southwest China) the oppressed (Vietnam) the liberated (Estonia), those who worship many gods (in Varanasi, India) the orthodox Christian (Russia and Romania), folk Muslims (Mali and Senegal) cultural Muslims (the Tatar of Russia) practicing Muslims (Turkey, Uzbekistan), follower of Buddha (Thailand and Cambodia) and the pure spirit worshipers called animists (Pokot of Kenya).

What I have learned through interacting with these faces of cultures, and others not listed, is profound. One, though we all are a part of the human race, we do not see the world the same. It took me a long time to shake me out of my mono-cultural theology to come to terms with this. Our values are different; our behavior is certainly different which means our conclusions are vastly different. The perception of God, sin, salvation, life and what happens after life is as varied as the faces of culture itself.

Second, through my profession I have learned to value others. Growing up ethnocentristic as well as fundamental, my first thirty years was spent believing that not only was I right, everyone who I came in contact with was both wrong and damned. Inherent to monoculturalism is their values and practices could be improved if they just became more like us. (Again, this is not just an American problem; it’s a disease of all monoculturalists in every country). The faces of culture have taught me that their way of doing things, their food and dress, even their religion, is valid. I may not agree with them, but through my exposure to God’s mosaic of peoples gives me insight on how, through their culture, He speaks uniquely to them. I am not a universalists, not all roads lead to heaven, but in all religion God can and does reveal Himself.

Third, the benefit of my profession is that I can celebrate and appreciate my own culture with a proper perspective. Though I no longer believe my country or my ethnicity is the best, I am confident it is every bit as valid as any other culture. I make no apologies for being an American. I can boast of my culture, not because of a narrow uniformed perspective, but because I have seen the other faces of culture and can claim my place as a part of God’s Divine design.

Case Against Reductionism

I am presently reading RUMORS of Another World, by Philip Yancey. It’s a book that my mom bought but didn’t like, so she gave it to my daughter, who didn’t have time to read so gave to me, which I put into my suitcase at the last minute before we left the states. Maybe it was Providence that I ended up with book; more likely it was sheer chance. That comment alone tells you why I like the book.

Yancey, McLaren, Lewis, Guinness are as much Christian philosophers as they are writers. Only McLaren comes out of the closet and declares he is a postmodernist, but the others are on the edge. It all comes down to definition of what is a postmodernist, but what they all have in common is their approach to the probing questions of the universe and the Creator of it all without coming to definitive conclusions. While they, in their own minds, have found plausible answers, in the end their arguments remain supposition. Writers, like Yancey, who has been a recovering fundamentalist for thirty years, reject the notion of easy believism for a more post-Enlightenment style that is more systematic and less reductionist.

Take the concept of sin as an example. Biological reductionist would suggest that bad behavior is the result of a malfunction of a genetic makeup. Psychologists contend that it’s due to emotional scarring through a dysfunctional family upbringing; sociologist might say the reason is because of a hostile social environment. Of course all of these may be true, in part, but blaming deviant behavior on the sugar content in Twinkies (as one convict claimed) is a more of a defense to avoid taking personal responsibility that recognizing the root cause.

Theological reductionism is the stuff that makes postmodernist cringe and Christian booksellers grin. Sin, according to those with the answers, is a result of not having enough faith, too little Bible study, not following proper study methods, a lack of submission (to God, husband or church), not having a positive attitude, withholding the tithe, following the fashions of the world, watching movies, listening to secular music, reading romance novels or, God help us, listening to someone who doesn’t declare “Thus saith the Lord.” One can jump through a thousand spiritual hoops or lifestyle modifications and, guess what, we will still sin. It’s not the devil that made us do it, we were not predestined to leave our spouse or cheat on our taxes, we made a conscious and deliberate decision. Why? Because we are sinners, we were born in sin. The depravity of man is one of the few theological reductionist views I hold, which runs contrary to the reductionism of science. However, like my biological DNA, the fact that I am born in sin cannot, does not, excuse me. “You know me, Lord, I’m just a sinner,” doesn’t give me a pass to be greedy, lustful, prideful or boastful.

Books like RUMORS remind me that this journey called life is both a process as well as discovery. If there were a magic formula to knowing God it would have been revealed by now. Yancey, and others like him, do not show us the way, they merely point the possible avenues. In this age of “give me the answers, not the questions,” such books may not satisfy, unless, like me, you have come to the realization that living with ambiguity is part of the God of mystery. It’s rumored there is another world. It’s rumored there is a greater power who is the architect of the universe and that designer seeks a relationship with His creation. I believe the rumor is true. I see in part, but not the whole. I’m intrigued with the mystery; I am not satisfied with the reductionism of others.

Why I Love My Job

FORGING TURKWELL RIVER - TURKANA DISTRICT - KENYA


In a little over a month my wife and I will celebrate our 30th anniversary. Not our wedding anniversary (which will be 38 years in a couple of weeks) but 30 years as cross-cultural workers. I can still remember the day we made the approach into the Nairobi airport that September day. As I stared down on the plains of Africa, dotted by mud huts and wandering animals, I looked over at my young daughters, ages 5 and 1, and prayed that I hadn’t made a mistake and wondered, “What the heck have I gotten us into?” Those were the days before short-term trips. Today many people in our profession now visit the field at least once, maybe more, to check out whether they like it before they make a commitment. We made our decision to live in Africa on pure faith.

Three decades later our children are grown, married and have children of their own. Sandy and I live in Asia, on the other side of the globe from our family and friends. What drives someone to take on this lifestyle? The other day, while walking through the streets of this city of 12 million people, I started to list the things I like about this life God has led me to live.

ADVENTURE - Talking with a young missionary recently she confessed that she sometimes feels guilty about wanting to live overseas because she is attracted to the adventure. I told her that I felt it was normal for a missionary to be adventurous. In fact, I wonder if adventure is not essential for people committed to living overseas. People who do not have a wonder about the world they live in, who are satisfied with the status quo of their home surroundings don’t do well overseas. It’s part of the missionary DNA to want to see what’s on the other side of the mountain, river or jungle. Today’s career worker is not unlike our forefathers of Livingston, Carey and Taylor, who were as much explorers as they were messengers of the Gospel. To be a missionary is to be adventurous.

Of course adventure can’t be the only reason to sell all your worldly goods and move to another culture. It doesn’t take long after one arrives in a foreign land that the reality of living among people who think, speak, act and eat differently than you begins to wear thin. For fourteen years I worked with a tribal group that was considered primitive. The first year in the bush was exciting and adventurous. The next thirteen years that adventure was often coupled with heat exhaustion, frequent bouts with malaria, loneliness, and frustration.

There have been times when I’ve thought about packing it in and returning to the states and doing something else. I know, however, that I would never be truly happy. Once one experiences life outside, “home” never seems to satisfy. Missionaries need the adventure. It’s part of who we are. It’s why I like my job.


(Part one in a series)

Relevance Versus Doctrine

The feature article of the recent Biola Connections is entitled, The “D” Word: Has Doctrine Become the New Dirty Word? The basis of the article is that the study of God’s Word has been replaced with support and interest groups, messages that confirm the Christian faith has given way to emotional healing and encouragement. The hymns of faith have been replaced with demonstrative and, sometimes, silly ditties. “Many Christians don’t see the connection between doctrine and life,” the article asserts, “so important doctrines are being discarded.”

The article cites the doctrine of the Trinity as one example of this trend. T.D. Jakes, pastor of a megachurch in Dallas, rejects the historic doctrine of the Trinity with an ancient church heresy called “modalism.” In April 2000 Jakes said in Religion Today, “I am too busy trying to preach the Gospel to split hairs. People in my generation are lost, hungry, in prison, wounded and alone…Many of our generation are dying without knowing God – not dying for the lack of theology.”

Soon after reading the Biola article I read Os Guinness’ work, Prophetic Untimeliness: A Challenge To the idol Of Relevance. Guinness takes the evangelical church to task accusing them of chasing the god of popularity, success and relevance, over sound doctrine. “How are we to be always timely,” questions Guinness, “never trendy? How are we to be redefined – in the right way?”

Because culture determines much of how we see our world and therefore directs our steps in life, the market economy, its business plans and its business management procedures, is the driving force behind much of the church today. In the world of competition, the focus in the church today is what method can we use to make our congregations more “relevant,” e.g. music, youth programs, even the dress code that appeals to the casual. It’s all about making people feel comfortable and having a satisfying worship experience. While pastors struggle for “market share,” in the community, the name of the game is not just merely having a nice building but attention must be given to Location, Location, Location.

As I reflect on the two readings I make application to my field of ministry overseas. The dominance of western influence on the national church is so strong that they, too, seek methods for church growth and therefore mimic the success of those abroad. Mission methods of adopting people groups and how to foster a people movement, is preferred over adequate study in the doctrines of faith or the training of how to present a relevant message in a non-Christian community.

The tension, for me as well as Guinness, is two-fold. One, I do believe the church should be relevant to the world in which we live. Whether one is serving in Dallas or Dakar, the message of Christ must speak in terms that the average American or Muslim can understand. For too many years the emphasis on theology has become an obstacle to the Message. Whether one is pre-trib or post-trib is irrelevant to those who need to understand who Jesus is and why He is "the Way the truth and the life." While I believe there is objective truth, as Brian McLaren has argued, one must wonder if orthodoxy is truly or objective or merely tradition handed down through those who saw their world through the lens of their time and culture.

Second, the postmodern cross-cultural worker, while crafting a relevant message of the Gospel, must not sacrifice objective truth for the sake of relevancy. To suggest that Christ is merely one avenue to salvation is to discredit His uniqueness.

Understanding the tension between relevance and doctrine is not an easy assignment. The failure of the church is that it seems to caught in an “either/or” position, rather than finding the middle ground in-between. Guinness is right, the church must not be swayed in being trendy at the cost of doctrine. At the same time it must not hold on to orthodoxy at the expense of becoming irrelevant. Though the Message may be irrelevant to unbelievers, that does not mean we must be in our presentation of truth.