I realize that the Apostle Paul did not take a class in cultural anthropology. I am also aware that understanding culture, studying the religion of others and looking for ways of contextualizing our message is not the only way to do work overseas. However, I do not ascribe to the theory that just being faithful is, in any stretch of the imagination, a sufficient substitute for strategic thinking.
Case in point. This past week a man and wife come over to visit where I was teaching. Lovely couple. They have lived in the country for about four years; have been teaching in a college and they both seem to be happy to be here. They, like so many people I have met down through the years, have a love for Christ, a love for people and have absolutely no idea what they should be doing. This is not just my assessment, it was theirs as well, and that’s why they came to see me.
These fine folks are not young and had been in ministry for several years in the states. Age doesn’t seem to be a factor when it comes to developing a strategy. If you’ve only been schooled in the theory of “ready, fire, aim,” it doesn’t make any difference if are 25 or 55. Zeal without knowledge only assures you that you will get into a mess faster but not smarter and certainly not more effective.
My new friends left me with a horror story. They have linked up with some people who have less knowledge than they do but have a ton of money in which to do ministry. Well-meaning people with money are even more dangerous than the poor and ignorant. Strategy is even less thought of when big donors want to move things down the road, get results and contribute to the spiritual bottom line (planting churches, seeing souls “saved”).
My great hope for this couple, along with the hundreds I teach each year, is that they will back up a bit, take the time needed to develop a well thought out plan and learn about those they have come to serve. Good strategy is no substitute for the work of the Holy Spirit, but I dare say His work is made easier when his vessels have a general idea of how and what they’re doing.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Dynamic Equivalence
Today is Diwali (many Indians have difficulty with the letter “w” so it is often pronounced Divali). It’s one of the most important celebration for Hindus, Sikhs and Jains. Perhaps in your community, anywhere in the world, there are Diwali celebrations going on. What is Diwali?
Hindus have different reasons for celebrating Diwali, but perhaps the most popular historic reasoning behind it comes from the popular Hindu epic, "Ramayana." In the epic, Lord Rama returns to his kingdom in Ayodhya with his wife Sita and brother Lakshmana after a 14 year exile; during his exile, Rama killed the 10-headed demon king Ravana, who among other things, had terrorized citizens in his country and had even kidnapped Sita. It is believed that people lit oil lamps along Rama's path back home in the darkness as a sign of solidarity and adulation.
Diwali is known as the “festival of lights,” as people decorate their houses like Christmas ornaments and strings of colored lights. In every window is a candle to guide Rama back from exile. Symbolically it is good’s victory over evil. Many believe that the goddess of wealth and prosperity, Lakshmi, visit the faithful on this day.
It’s also a festival of noise as throughout the night firecrackers and other fireworks continue through the night.
This Diwali I am in the south teaching cross-cultural classes. Diwali does not have as strong a tradition in the south as it does in the north, but still I hear “cracker’s” going on throughout the night. In our neighborhood in Delhi my wife tells me that night sky is lit, smoke hovers over the city of 12 million.
Missiologists and cross-cultural communications specialist look for the “dynamic equivalent” of such cultural events. As a Christian it’s easy to make the application of victory over darkness through the Gospel message. Followers of Christ do not have to show Him the way; He is the Light that helps us find our way to the God of all people, and cultures.
Hindus have different reasons for celebrating Diwali, but perhaps the most popular historic reasoning behind it comes from the popular Hindu epic, "Ramayana." In the epic, Lord Rama returns to his kingdom in Ayodhya with his wife Sita and brother Lakshmana after a 14 year exile; during his exile, Rama killed the 10-headed demon king Ravana, who among other things, had terrorized citizens in his country and had even kidnapped Sita. It is believed that people lit oil lamps along Rama's path back home in the darkness as a sign of solidarity and adulation.
Diwali is known as the “festival of lights,” as people decorate their houses like Christmas ornaments and strings of colored lights. In every window is a candle to guide Rama back from exile. Symbolically it is good’s victory over evil. Many believe that the goddess of wealth and prosperity, Lakshmi, visit the faithful on this day.
It’s also a festival of noise as throughout the night firecrackers and other fireworks continue through the night.
This Diwali I am in the south teaching cross-cultural classes. Diwali does not have as strong a tradition in the south as it does in the north, but still I hear “cracker’s” going on throughout the night. In our neighborhood in Delhi my wife tells me that night sky is lit, smoke hovers over the city of 12 million.
Missiologists and cross-cultural communications specialist look for the “dynamic equivalent” of such cultural events. As a Christian it’s easy to make the application of victory over darkness through the Gospel message. Followers of Christ do not have to show Him the way; He is the Light that helps us find our way to the God of all people, and cultures.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Survey Results
Here are the results of the survey of I posted earlier this week, with my brief comments:
Inerrancy of the Bible – Essential 71.4% - Preference 28.6%
Salvation in Christ Alone – Essential 100%
Polygamy is immoral – same as adultery – Essential 14.3% - Preference 42.9% - Negotiable 42.9% - (Polygamy is not the same as adultery, though it is not God’s ideal for marriage. However, God did allow it in the Old Testament)
Muslim believers should not remain in the mosque – E- 14.3% -P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Great debate in missiological circles)
Baptism by immersion only – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1%
Women cannot teach or lead a congregation – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Women, even teen-age girls, lead many congregations in restricted access countries.)
Truth is only found in God’s Word – E 14.3% - P 57.1% - N 28.6% - (Is all truth is God truth?)
Do not eat food used in Hindu ceremonies – E 0% - P 28.6% - N 71.4%
Forbid teaching from the Koran or other holy books – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (If all truth is God’s truth, even if it is found in other writings, can God not use it for His purpose?)
(For Christians) Allah is not an acceptable name used for God – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Another debatable issue…is Allah merely a noun or is the connotation of the name the greater issue?)
The response to this survey revealed a couple of things. First, those who live outside the US usually score higher in the N category. Cross-cultural workers who live with the issues tend to make more allowances for culture than those who reside in the U.S. Second, many of the respondents who read this blog understand the cross-cultural issues more than the average North American pastors who took this survey.
The challenge, for all of us, is this…what is really important as we communicate the Gospel to people of other cultures and religion? Thanks to those who took the survey. Keep working through the issues as you develop your thoughts as how best to a be a “bridge” for those who don't yet understand the message of Christ.
Inerrancy of the Bible – Essential 71.4% - Preference 28.6%
Salvation in Christ Alone – Essential 100%
Polygamy is immoral – same as adultery – Essential 14.3% - Preference 42.9% - Negotiable 42.9% - (Polygamy is not the same as adultery, though it is not God’s ideal for marriage. However, God did allow it in the Old Testament)
Muslim believers should not remain in the mosque – E- 14.3% -P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Great debate in missiological circles)
Baptism by immersion only – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1%
Women cannot teach or lead a congregation – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Women, even teen-age girls, lead many congregations in restricted access countries.)
Truth is only found in God’s Word – E 14.3% - P 57.1% - N 28.6% - (Is all truth is God truth?)
Do not eat food used in Hindu ceremonies – E 0% - P 28.6% - N 71.4%
Forbid teaching from the Koran or other holy books – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (If all truth is God’s truth, even if it is found in other writings, can God not use it for His purpose?)
(For Christians) Allah is not an acceptable name used for God – E 14.3% - P 28.6% - N 57.1% - (Another debatable issue…is Allah merely a noun or is the connotation of the name the greater issue?)
The response to this survey revealed a couple of things. First, those who live outside the US usually score higher in the N category. Cross-cultural workers who live with the issues tend to make more allowances for culture than those who reside in the U.S. Second, many of the respondents who read this blog understand the cross-cultural issues more than the average North American pastors who took this survey.
The challenge, for all of us, is this…what is really important as we communicate the Gospel to people of other cultures and religion? Thanks to those who took the survey. Keep working through the issues as you develop your thoughts as how best to a be a “bridge” for those who don't yet understand the message of Christ.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
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?
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?
Friday, October 13, 2006
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."
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."
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, October 06, 2006
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
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
Monday, October 02, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, September 29, 2006
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.
“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.
Monday, September 25, 2006
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.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
#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!
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!
Saturday, September 16, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, September 08, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
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)
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)
Friday, September 01, 2006
#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.
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.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
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.”
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.”
Friday, August 25, 2006
#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.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
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.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, August 18, 2006
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.
