Sleeping god

I’ve seen many idols in my 15 years of visiting India, but I did a double take walking on the road last week. The “sleeping god,” that some Indians call it, is the most unique idol I’ve seen thus far.


What’s interesting about this idol is that it’s in an area where the Gospel has had a strong presence for over 70 years. I asked a friend of mine, who graduated from a nearby seminary in 1959, if the “sleeping god” was there when he was a student. He said no, but the tree has some mystical meaning to the locals as they use to sacrifice chickens there back in his time.

How can one reconcile the presence of the Good News of Christ that has been around for so many years with, seemingly, little impact? Even more sobering, how should I or other workers justify the intention of our ministries if in-fact the impact of the Gospel is marginal? If the redemptive message of the cross is the power unto salvation, why after seven decades there is so little change in the hearts and minds of so many? My only conclusion is that the god of this world continues to hold people in spiritual bondness. Superstition and fear of unseen forces still hold a grip on the minds of millions. The Gospel is not just for those who readily receive, but also for those who live in perpetual darkness. While the idol may represent a sleeping god, his eyes, wide open, reminds us that indeed, the god of this world is not asleep at all.

Working In The Village

Last weekend the students of the seminary visited a nearby village. Billed as "ministry of social services," the students performed various tasks to serve the people of this village.

First picture, students walking to village. Note the sheep coming our way.


Woman washing clothes on street.





Boys cleaning streets and sewer.



Giving free haircuts (a savings of 25 cents) - Girls in the clean up as well.



The team sang, performed a skit and preached.










In a village of less than 200 people, there were at least 15 shrines to different gods.

Tired of the Messenger, Not the Message

A mutual friend told my friend recently that he was “tired of what he was teaching.” The only reason he continues is because the university where he teaches has benefits, which includes a big discount for his college age children. This brother is no slouch, in fact he’s brilliant, but, like many who have been in the work for a while, he no doubt longs for younger days when he challenged status quo and launched out into the deep without regard of the consequences.

As I board another flight to teach in South Asia I must admit at times I struggle with my subject. I’ve been teaching the same thing now for 18 years and the material has lost its edge. Of course I am forever reading and trying to keep up with our constant changing world, but sometimes I get weary of my hearing my own voice telling stories that I have heard myself repeat countless times. So why do I still do it?

First, because what is old to me is new to 90 percent of those who are in my class. Most seminaries major on theology, few, if any, know anything about cultural anthropology, cross-cultural communication or understand how cultures work. The field of study is still interesting to me, even if the material has become familiar.

Second, because the subject is new to most of my students there is always a “ah ha” moment in every training session. When I teach, for example, epistemology, the study of the science of knowing (how to you come to know what you know, and how do you know what you know is right?) there is never a time when those in attendance don’t walk away with insights they have never thought of before. And, even though the study of lineages, worldview and social control seem to be academic (and even tedious), its when I help students “connect the dots” on how these subjects are relevant in church planting and communicating the Good News of Christ, that the students come alive.

The fact of the matter is, even though I weary at the start of another class, I wouldn’t want to teach anything else. I cannot serve where many of my students will minister. I can’t learn all the languages, customs and cultures they will eventually go. It’s after two or three weeks of teaching that I walk away with a feeling that maybe I have contributed to the equipping of others for the ministry.

Effective Communication

Though I teach cross-cultural communication, I am increasingly seeing a need to instruct on how to communicate mono-culturally. Actually, the principles are the same, but the key is context. Theoretically it should be easier to know the mono-cultural context but my experience in listening to a few sermons in the U.S., off-and-on over the past seven months, prompt me to share some thoughts on communication. Here are a few simple suggestions on sermon delivery.

1. Create a Narrative, NOT Repeat History. I heard a pastor speak a few weeks back on Elijah, and basically his sermon was a review of a chapter in 2 Kings. Elijah is one of my favorite Old Testament characters and his story is chock-full of great applications, but the pastor didn’t create a narrative he just methodically read verse-by-verse recounting the story, pausing occasionally to make a point. The message meandered like a lazy stream in the flat lands of Mississippi. No real purpose in the sermon, just a story about one who lived a long time ago.

2. Leave The Lexicon In the Study - I don’t mind digging out the meaning of a verse from the Greek or Hebrew to bring the text into context, but I weary with pastors who feel the urge to make their sermons into a hermeneutics class. (It was the dullest class I had in Bible College and it’s even worse when you have to sit through it but don’t get credit).

3. Dress Appropriately – Can we please get past the Rick Warren Hawaiian shirts? I don’t mind casual, but I do have a problem with sloppy. On the other hand, I know a few brothers who are so full of themselves (they are the ones who are constantly looking at their reflection in the window) who feel as though they have to wear expensive suit while the farmers in their congregation are wearing jeans. If a speakers dress, sloppy or fashionable, is a distraction, you lose the power of communication. One of my professors told us that he only wears a white shirt, black tie and black suit when he preaches. He takes off his ring(s) and watch because, “I want people to hear the message and not be distracted by what I wear.” Perhaps a bit radical, but I never forgot his point. The spotlight is to be on the message of Christ, not the speaker.

4. Have ONE Theme – Can you tell me what last Sunday’s sermon was about? If you can’t it’s because the sermon had so many points and sub-points that the average hearer got lost in the maze of information. One pastor, who I really think is brilliant, is tedious to listen to because HE KNOWS TOO MUCH. Sometimes I believe he gets lost in his own sermon as he goes down one bunny trail to the next. If you can get people to come away with ONE thought, you’ve done your job well.

The list on how to communicate effectively is long, but it can be boiled down to this: Know your audience, have one theme, tell the story in a way that is relevant to their lives. Knowing the message is only half of the job, effectively delivering the message is just as important.

Why I Celebrate The 4th

When I came out of the Wal-Mart store yesterday I found this note on the windshield. Someone had no doubt noticed the POW license plate of my dad’s van, which I am driving as I ferry them on errands and to their doctor’s appointments. Obviously someone, in the spirit of the upcoming holiday, wanted to just say thanks and express their appreciation for those who have served our country in the military.

My dad’s story is an interesting one. He was a waist gunner on a B-17. On one mission they had to ditch their plane in the Adriatic Sea because of engine failure. His last mission his plane was shot down over Austria and my dad was one of four, out of a crew of ten, that survived. He spent the remaining time of the war in a German prison camp. (You can read the pilot’s account of that July day almost 64 years ago by clicking HERE ).


When I got back to my parents house my dad was in a lot of pain so I took him to the VA hospital. Hard to believe the young guy kneeling in the photo is almost unable to walk now; his voice is weak and he can hardly hear.

This 4th of July I will celebrate the day maybe with a little more awareness of its meaning. The only time I ever saw my dad cry was when he talked about the day he was shot down. He asked me a question I couldn’t answer, “Why was I spared and my buddies didn’t make it?” Like the note left on the windshield, I want to say thanks to all who served.

Project Pokot - Part Two

In 1976, when I first began working in the bush of Kenya, there were few Protestant missionaries who had ever worked or even seen the people of Pokot and Turkana. By the mid-80’s there was a flurry of mission activity in Pokot because of better roads, though few missionaries actually lived or worked down in the rugged conditions of the bush. My doctoral research in 1991 revealed that, though there were many churches in Pokot, the percentage of Pokot people who attended those churches was remarkably low as the majority of Christians in the district were actually people from other tribes who lived and worked in Pokot. Even more startling in my findings was how few Pokot men were reached with the Gospel. My thesis was, and is, it’s not how many churches that are planted that’s important, but how effective is outreach to those who have never heard. Planting one church for every one thousand people may mean a saturation of churches, but that doesn’t translate into making the Gospel relevant to those who do not accept that message.


In my dissertation I concluded that missionaries (national as well as foreign) needed to move away from traditional African missions (TAM) and create a strategic African mission (SAM) outreach. SAM can only be accomplished by (1) learning the questions of their culture and (2) develop a contextualized approach in presenting the Gospel.

Next year I will be spending more time in Kenya training Kenyan missionaries how to implement SAM (though I will still be teaching in India as well as other places in the world). The goal of my research is to live in Pokot and to revisit the issues I addressed 18 years ago. Because cultures are not static, what has or has not changed among the Pokot since 1991?


- How has their worldview changed?

- Has their family structure changed?

- Do they still practice polygamy, bride price exchange and still practice rites of passage such as sapana and female circumcision?

- Have the churches in Pokot become more or less indigenous?

Every missionary endeavor, in my opinion, should be asking the similar questions as they create a strategy of mission for their target people group. Methods may be easier to create, but it is only when we do the hard work of asking the questions that a true contextualized message can be presented.

Project Kara Pokot

I am fond of telling my students “Learn the questions, before giving the answers. Too many times we are giving answers to questions people aren’t asking.” Part of the reason I am passionate about that statement is because in my preparation for ministry I was never taught the importance of learning the questions. I launched into ministry in Kenya believing I had the answers, having gone through Bible College and pastoring in Texas for five years. My denomination had (has) a mission philosophy, which in essences states, the primary importance in doing God’s work is (a) preach the word and (b) be faithful. After all, it’s His work, we just need to present His message and let Him use it as He sees fit. This philosophy of missions (wrongly in my opinion) is still prevalent among many mission organizations and missionaries today.

After my wife and I completed language school in Limuru we moved to the western part of the country. Though we were invited to work in Eldoret by two other missionary families, I was drawn to areas where there was little or no missionary activity (Rom 15:20). Eventually our ministry focus was among two semi-nomadic tribes of the northwest bush, the Pokot and Turkana. It was working with these people, who were animist, that I came to understand that, though I had the answers to their greatest need i.e., to know the true and living God, I didn’t know how to make the message understandable to them. It wasn’t until my second term in Africa before I heard the word “contextualization.” Their worldview of misfortune, family, values, life-after-death, was not anything I learned in my hermeneutics class in college or in my ministry in the Bible-belt of the US. Confronted with what I didn’t know I began the quest of learning the questions before giving the answers.

Learning the questions is not easy and in fact is labor intensive. The first place to learn the questions is through research. For me, in the late ‘70’s and early ‘80’s, before the Internet, it was reading books and journals. I learned about contextualization, syncretism, dynamic equivalence, the purpose of arranged marriages, polygamy, cattle worldview and the role of witchdoctor, initially through reading. Determined to learn more about the questions, my furloughs were dedicated to taking classes to help me understand what I didn’t know so I could better determine the best way to give the answer. In this process of discovery I spent a number of days, weeks and months in the bush of Pokot, living in a mud hut (picture above), formally and structurally considering a people that were totally different from what I perceive as norm. My pursuit of learning the questions continues today as I read and teach others on the process of mining the complexities of culture and religion.

In 2009, 18 years after the publication of my doctoral dissertation on the social organization of the Kara Pokot, I am making plans on moving back down to the desert for a few months to do a follow-up study of this pastoral tribe. Since nothing remains static, how have the Pokot changed since those days I first worked with them back in 1976?

More on Project Kara Pokot next time.

The Price of Oil and Missions

I heard a man in church the other day talking about how the price of gas was affecting his business; that fuel cost was up over 50% since the first of the year. I thought to myself, “Yeah, it affects my business as well.”

In India, where I spend a lot of my time, inflation has risen 18% in two months. I recently bought a domestic airline ticket and they now have a fuel surcharge of $50. Couple that with a weak dollar and one begins to get the picture that the cost of doing God’s business continues to rise.

I don’t write this to whine about the financial plight of my or others in ministry, but just a reminder that while Americans suffer under the high cost of gasoline, global inflation is an issue for those who live on a “fixed” income overseas. I cannot pass my cost on to my clients or customers. What I must do, like everyone else, is to manage even better our monthly budget. God’s work will go on no matter how high the price of a barrel of oil may rise. But, like all businesses, some activities will have to be scaled back; some may go out of business all together. What remains constant, in this world of uncertainty, is a Sovereign God who is not frustrated by OPEC or politicians and good people who faithfully give of their hard earned resources so that the Gospel will continue to go to those who have never heard.

Lessons From The Desert

I purchased a new scanner this past week, one that scans slides and negatives, of which I have hundreds that span over 30 years of ministry in Africa and other parts of the world. As I go through the faded images of my past ministry in Kenya I am reminded of the profound impact the desert has had on my life.

There is something profound about isolation, being cut off from the norm of the familiar. It was in the bush of Kenya, working with the tribal people of Turkana and Pokot, that I spent many lonely days and nights away from my immediate family, and of course my extended family in the U.S. When I close my eyes, even today, I can feel the unrelenting heat, the grime of everything made of cow-dung, the pesky flies that swarmed my face and how difficult it was to walk in sand. At night I would listen to the mournful singing of the people in the village and look up into the African sky and see a billion stars. It was in the desert that I learned to think through and even challenge my faith. In the desert I was away from the pressures of my peers, the judgment of a godless world system; it was just God and I, in the desert.

Throughout history the desert has been God’s classroom of instruction for His followers. Moses was exiled to the wasteland to prepare him to lead His people in the desert; David, a man after God’s own heart, was formed herding sheep in the bush; God sustained Elijah for seven years of drought by a brook; John the Baptist, the forerunner of Christ, did his work, not in the city of Jerusalem, but in the wilderness; the Apostle Paul, after his dramatic conversion, was banished to the backside of the desert for three years to contemplate his Damascus road encounter with Jesus.

In this world of instant communication, 24-hour news and the measure of a man gauged by name recognition and portfolio, one must discipline himself to be alone with God. Depending on the press of the day, time set aside for God could be 10 minutes or 1 hour and perhaps a few smattering petitions throughout the day. While snippets of devotion is better than not acknowledging Him at all, the time needed to allow God to mold the spirit is difficult, if not impossible to find. In spite of the malaria carrying mosquitoes, snakes and scorpions, I often miss the solitude with God I found in the desert.

YOU MAKE THE CALL: Family and Missions

I try not to write a lot of personal stuff on this blog, and if I do I make an attempt for some missiological or spiritual application. Such is the case with the post today and I appreciate your indulgence.

Yesterday afternoon my 88-year-old dad was diagnosed as having Alzheimer’s disease. A bit of a shock as we knew he is confused a lot lately, but thought it was dementia or just plain old age. As we think of the future for my dad and, certainly for my mom, it’s challenging time for all of us.

My wife and I moved back to the states last December for the express reason of lending a nurturing helping hand to my parents as well as my wife’s father (my mother-in-law passed away two years ago). Our siblings are local and have been taking care of family matters for the 40 years that Sandy and I have been either overseas or located in some other state. It wasn’t necessary for us to return, but we made a conscious choice to be around in the waning years of our parent’s lives. As a trainer and non-resident missionary, my role has evolved since our pioneering days in the bush of Kenya and I don’t feel it’s imperative for me to physically be on the foreign field to be effective in missions. With the news we received yesterday I think we made the right relocation decision. But the question must, should be asked, is it legitimate for a missionary to come off the field to deal with family issues?

A friend of mine is in California taking care of his mother, who also has Alzheimer’s. He is the only child and he told me his mission agency was not sympathetic to his problem and has asked him to resign. Some of his donors, he confided, also question him on how long it will be before he goes back to the field. He has no idea. Alzheimer’s is not something that has a well-defined time-line. Another friend was home several years because one of his kids was having psychological and emotional problems. After seven years the sending agency asked for his resignation and he is still bitter about it. Were they right to take such action?

Like everything, BALANCE is the key. I do believe that there is a biblical principle as it relates to family and ministry. In Luke 9:59-62 there was a man who hesitated in following Jesus, saying, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” But he (Jesus) said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” In the service of Christ family issues cannot, should not, take preeminence. At another, time, however, Jesus criticized the religious leaders for not taking care of their parents, using the work of God as an excuse to let them live in poverty (Matthew 15:3-7).

While not addressing my particular case, you make the call. What are your thoughts on missions and family issues? It’s a difficult decision that missionaries face everyday.

Brevity of Life

When I came home from a recent trip my wife, Sandy, was talking about a series of Beth Moore lessons on the book of Daniel that she and some other women had been doing. In the course of her recounting what she was learning she quoted Moore as saying that “We only have 10 minutes here on earth,” (or something to that affect.)

“Where did she get that” I asked?

Sandy’s response was that Beth was making a general statement on the brevity of life.

“But where did she get 10 minutes?” I continued to probe. Sandy insisted that it was a generic statement and I was missing the point. I wouldn't let it go. I began thinking about the passage in Scripture that says that, “with the Lord, one day is like a thousand years” (2 Peter 3:8). That being true, if the average life of man is 70 years, is that where Moore came up with we have about 10 minutes on this earth?

God knows I am not a mathematician. I tried to figure it out but couldn’t. I took my math problem to my 14 year old grand-daughter and, though she’s a lot smarter than me, couldn’t find the right equation. I drove my whole family nuts for a week trying to figure out, if man lives to 70 years old, how old is he in God’s economy of time? Finally, a friend wrote and gave me, what I assume is the answer – 1 hour, 40 minuets and 48 seconds based on this equation:

70 years is .07% of a thousand.
So we must find .07 of a day.
A day has 1440 minutes. 24 X 60 = 1440
.07 X 1440 = 100.8
So we have 100 minutes plus .8 of a minute, which is 48 seconds.
Thus: 100 minutes and 48 seconds old.

Idle trivia? Perhaps. But as one watching his 88 year old dad slowly moving out of this life, grateful that he has beat the odds and is 2 hours and 11 minutes old, and my own life of not yet 1 hour and half, I understand more the sobering reality of, "For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away" (Ja. 4:14).

Learning Opportunity

Sometime back I mentioned providing training in context. If you know of anyone who would like to learn how to understand culture, how to work in another culture then direct them to X-CULTURAL LIVE.

The Paradox of Decision Making

Talking with my brother the other day we discussed the importance of making timely decisions. My brother, who is a business consultant, made an interesting comment, saying, “No decision is making a decision.” In the context of our discussion he is right. Too many times, out of fear, sometimes we don’t step up and make hard choices. By not taking action we sometimes miss opportunities.

Then the other day I was listening to a sermon about David in 1 Samuel 21. David was on the run from King Saul and in his exile he came to a priest by the name of Ahimelch and asked for the consecrated, holy bread, in the tabernacle to feed his fleeing army. In verse 8, David makes the statement as justification for his actions “the king's business required haste.” The fact of the matter is David’s words were not correct. God’s business is seldom done in haste. Indeed, God’s business is usually very slow. Perhaps it’s because we are finite creatures and bound by the shortness of our time on earth that we wish God would hurry things up a bit. David misrepresented God’s working in his life and so it is with many of us when it comes to making decisions.

If you were to ask me what is the most difficult thing about serving God it is patiently waiting for God’s direction in my life. To “be still and know that I am God,” is often excruciating. I want to make things happen. After all, I’m not getting any younger; the clock is ticking. It’s tough for me to remember that, though I’m in a hurry, God is not. His work does not require haste.

Certainly there are times when God makes it clear that we should act and I believe it is wrong, perhaps sin, if we don’t move forward when we see clearly His will in a matter. It’s a lack of faith and trust in Him if we take no God directed action. However, do we have the courage to wait on God when opportunity knocks? Do we sometimes try to make it happen and spiritualize it by saying that “the King’s business requires haste”? Making the right decision is often a paradox. No decision is indeed making a decision. Sometimes not making that decision is not doing His will; sometimes not making that decision is allowing God to work out His will in His time.

Gift of Encouragement

When my friend handed me a card recently I was dumbfounded, even more, I was embarrassed. Inside the card were six one hundred dollar bills. When I asked why, he said that he and his wife had been praying about giving a financial gift to people who had invested in their lives and Sandy and I were one of those they wanted honor with a gift. Speechless, I finally squeaked out, “Well, thanks.” My response sounded so wimpy. How do you say to one of your closest friends in the world, “Hey, I know you guys love and respect us, but you don’t have to give us money to show your affection.” But I didn’t, and “thanks” was the best I could do and sheepishly put the card in my pocket. When I asked him if he wanted me to deposit through my organization so he could deduct the gift from his taxes he said no, “Just use it anyway you want.”

People give gifts for a whole host of reasons. This past week we sent a check to a family members daughter who graduated from high school. We hardly know the girl, but out of respect to the family we gave a gift. Some people give out of duty. I know some dear old people who go to church every Sunday just so they can pay their tithe. Some people give because out of guilt, others out of deep gratitude. For others giving is a business transaction and they seek those who offer the best ROI.

Paul, wrote this note to a donor church while he was in prison,

As you know, you Philippians were the only ones who gave me financial help when I first brought you the Good News….No other church did this….I don’t say this because I want a gift from you. Rather, I want you to receive a reward for your kindness (Phil. 4:15 – 17.

Paul saw the generosity of this congregation as an act of kindness, but more than anything else, he saw their deed of charity as a vote of confidence…an act of encouragement. I can only imagine the emotional and spiritual valleys Paul must have experienced; alone in prison, wondering if all this suffering was necessary. And then he receives a message, perhaps not a Hallmark card, but a note from a group of people who believed in him. Other churches had received the Good News from Paul’s preaching, but it was just this Philippian congregation who took up a collection for his physical needs. Paul said he didn’t need it, but he accepted it because he wanted them to receive a reward for their kindness.

I know there are many missionaries who read this blog. They, like myself, know that with every gift they receive it is more than just dollars for their ministry. Each donation is a symbol of encouragement. So, in spite of the awkwardness, even at times the distastefulness of receiving monetary support, at the end of each month I look at the list of those who have given financially and, though I see the dollar amount, I am more aware of those who have sent a vote of confidence. My prayer is that (a) I betray not that confidence and (b) God will richly reward their kindness.

Seeing and Meeting the Need

When our family lived in Kenya there was a woman in Tulsa who wrote and asked if there was anything she could send us? I was working on verse-by-verse Bible studies in Swahili and this dear lady, named Kathy, supplied me with commentaries for three years to help me in this project. She also sent regularly women’s magazines to my wife and comic books to my daughters. Kathy saw a need and met it.

Recently I mentioned in my monthly E-letter of a conference I was underwriting in Orissa, India. A church in Sherman, Texas sent me $1,500 to cover the cost. This congregation went beyond just monthly support, they gave extra to meet a need.



When I let it be known that a pastor in Kenya asked if I could find a used computer, Larry in California dusted off his perfectly good working IBM laptop and sent it to me which I gladly took to pastor Paul. Larry turned his outdated computer into a tool for God’s work in Africa.



While churches go through the process of determining if their congregations can support the ministry, people like Casey and Becky, Keith and Lorna, Tom and Judy, Allan and Edith, Jim and Diana, the Vangergrifts, the Martins and other individuals and families become monthly partners in the work. Like Gideon’s band of warriors, we are not large in number, but it's an army diligent in the task who see a need and do what they can to meet that need.

Analogy of Parenting and Missions

In a Q and A session in a Kenyan church one young man stood and read his question.

“You missionaries,” he stated, “come here and do some very good things. However, you live in nice houses and drives cars, but you don’t leave assets for the local church to build on so they can sustain themselves.” This man’s particular point was that they needed electricity on their church compound, which would be beneficial for them to start a nursery school. For a mere $4,000 the power line could be hooked up and they could generate some income for the church.

My answer to this veiled personal criticism was two-fold. First, I agreed that in the past some of us were shortsighted in our church-planting ministry. In hindsight, it would have probably been better if I had concentrated on building fewer quality churches rather than trying to establish many churches. Perhaps if I had concentrated my resources on establishing a quality Bible school rather than on trying to establish churches in the bush of Pokot and Turkana it would have served those regions better. But that’s hindsight.

Though I understood and accepted the critical analysis of the questioner, I took issue with his premise, i.e., that if we had helped them stand on their own they would be better off today. The problem for me 25 years ago was, and still is today, how much is enough? When does aid become dependency rather than laying a good foundation? I reminded the congregation that when I started working in the area there were not even good roads, much less electricity. My investment in every church plant, thirteen in all, was meant to help them get to a place where they could move forward on their own, not permanently underwrite their ever need. I also reminded them that as one who understands African culture, Kenyan’s always feel they are too poor to do anything on their own and that, in fact, they are many times unwilling to sacrifice to reach their own desired goals. I recounted the story how that in my days on the field people would drop one cent pieces into the offering plate but would pay the witchdoctor in the area a goat to ward off evil spirits. In today’s economy many of those in the congregation can afford cell phones and cars, but for some reason can’t come up with enough money to get electricity to their church compound.

While I admitted my failings as a missionary, I told them that being a new missionary is like being a parent; it’s on-the-job training. Like a parent, we learn as we go and often can look back at how we could have done it better in both raising our children as well as serving the church. Sometimes we did things right, sometimes, in retrospect, we could have done things differently. While I may regret some of my strategies of thirty-five years ago, I can take comfort that both my kids and the churches we established have a strong foundation for their future. A missionary’s or parent’s legacy should not be how much they provided for their children or ministry, but rather how much they instilled in them to go forward on their own.

Vulnerability as Strength

Standing behind his son’s casket, pastor Ngure spoke for at least an hour. John, twenty-five years old, hung himself two days before and there were a lot of questions that accompanies every suicide. Why would he do such a thing? What was so wrong in his own world that it would push him to take his own life? Many questions, no good answers.

The short answer -- the motivation for John to end his life was the breakup with his fiancé. The boy and girl loved each other, wanted to get married, but the parents of the girl opposed the marriage because their daughter was going to the university and John had only attended a technical school after high school. When the discussion broke down, John became despondent and even told his girlfriend of his plans of ending his life. The girl sent an SMS to John’s sister of his intentions two days before he carried out his plan. Of course all funerals are sad, but this was particularly difficult. The death of young person is tragic at every level, truly senseless.

As the service continued (it was three hours long) I was interested from an anthropological perspective, how Kenyan culture handles these situations. In America suicide is something one does not talk about; it’s an embarrassment to family. My friend, working in Japan, informs me that suicide can be an act of honor, resolving a conflict or a bad circumstance. This funeral revealed to me again how Kenyans view vulnerability as strength, not weakness.

People in the West not only do not highlight their vulnerabilities, they actively conceal them. Call it pride, egotism or even denial from reality, either way, most people in America and Europe will not show their weak side because it reveals our limitations. Africans, for the most part, do not mind sharing their frailties. Pastor Ngure talked at length about his relationship with his son, including the day before he found him hanging in the bathroom. He talked to the young people assembled, John’s friends, telling them that no situation, even a broken heart, is worth taking your own life. He talked to the parents, encouraging them to remain close to their kids and keep the lines of communication open, even as he tried with John. For an hour, along with a grieving mother, three sisters and a younger brother, Pastor Nugre revealed his vulnerability as a sign of strength. Incomprehensible behavior for me, respected by everyone else assembled.

Jesus belonged to culture that believed vulnerability was weakness, yet His Father allowed Him to die in a shameful manner on a cross to show the world His strength. The world has never understood vulnerability as strength, yet it was God’s way of providing salvation to His creation who disdain the idea of bowing a knee and asking for forgiveness. I am reminded of this truth, standing by a grave in Africa.

Going To Work

As my wife drove me to the airport she asked me if was excited about the trip.

“Not particularly,” I replied, “it feels like just going to work.”

If you have traveled very much in your life then you understand that after awhile the romance or excitement of going overseas loses its edge. The long layovers in an airport; the 14 hour flight from New York to Delhi; the sleeping in strange beds and eating local food becomes a part of the job, it’s no longer an adventure. Though I have visited forty countries I still get a bit anxious about customs, catching the right train and trying to figure out the exchange rate. Since I am in the ministry and don’t have a huge budget, my seat on the plane is 40J not 4A and a five star hotel is something I read about in the in-flight magazine while sitting in the back of the plane, knowing that the best I can hope for in accommodations is AC and a private bath in the guest house where I will teach.

Understand, I am not complaining. I love what I do, training and teaching others how to serve the Lord cross-culturally. If I didn’t I certainly wouldn’t subject myself to the long days away from family and the isolation of traveling alone for weeks at a time. The point is, it ain’t all that exciting.

Years ago a man told me that when he first heard me speak he did not believe in supporting missions or missionaries. He said that there was no way he was going to give his hard earned money for me to travel the world. He confessed that it was several years later, after reading my reports, that he understood that I was living anything but a life of leisure, fun and adventure.

There is a reason that 5% of the global mission force quits every year. Ministry is, and should be, a job. And, like all jobs, there are benefits, but there are also some negatives. Daily work is not always enjoyable, and compound the emotional stress of daily activities with dynamics of living in a culture that is not your own and it can be debilitating. I like what I do and thank God each day for the role He has given me for His kingdom work. But I don’t wake up each morning excited, going to work isn’t always that much fun.

Life Goes On

Arriving early Friday morning at the Jomo Kenyatta Airport, the taxi was taking me to my friend’s house in Nairobi. My mind, of course, thought about that day, over thirty-years ago, when I first landed in Kenya. With my wife and two little girls, 5and 1 1/2 years old, the memory was, like all memories, bitter/sweet and sadly, it’s the bitter memories that cause an emotional stir.

There are certain things about the African culture that is difficult – the poverty, corruption and the sense that the people will never progress. One can blame these conditions on many things. The secularists will point to the World Bank, to poor education and tribalism. It’s no doubt some of these things are the cause of their lack of progress, but the underlying problem is a culture that is in its own prison of disobedience against God, which then translates into disobedience toward others.

The sweet side of my return is the fond memories of a house full of laughter when our daughters came home for their one-month school breaks to our home upcountry; the many dear friends that were and are today, a part of our life and ministry. But even with those good memories, a cloud of sadness creeps in when I think of the many friends I worked with who have passed on, though with a silver lining knowing that they are at rest with the Christ they served faithfully in harsh and difficult conditions.

As my mind wanders in the thick of the morning traffic jam, a matatu (mini van taxi) passes. On the back window a sign reads, Life Goes On and I am struck by the simplicity yet profundity of those three words. As the leaders of Kenya work through the healing of a bitterly contested election which resulted in riots, the loss of property and 1,500 souls, the people try to go work and eek out a living because life goes on. The great expectations of the past are renewed once again and people move guardedly forward, as they must, because life goes on. Knowing that when I arrive upcountry I will be inundated with requests from people who see me as a resource to solve all their problems here on earth I will no doubt disappoint a few and my emotions will range from sadness to frustration, but life goes on.

Life goes on, and it seems to go by so quickly. I started my journey in Africa over 30 years ago; I cannot hope to have that many years ahead of me. So, as we weave through the congested streets of Nairobi, I anticipate the week ahead for good and bad to come my way. There isn’t a lot I can do about it, as life goes on.

This morning another matatu drives by, for perhaps just my benefit, and on the back was written God Provides.

Don't Cast Your Net, Pick Up a Fishing Pole

As I sat looking out over the Arabian Sea, my mind was absorbed with the little fishing boats anchored off the coast. What a tough job that must be, to battle the wind and the waves in such a small boat, throwing out the nets hoping to catch a few fish to eat and to sell. At night the fisherman do not rest, but the mend their nets and prepare for the next day’s toil.

I then thought of the class of faithful servants I’ve been teaching this week. Many of them told me about the persecution they have suffered their service to Christ in this region. In my class this morning I challenged them to quit trying to be “net fisherman,” but rather “pole fisherman.” My class is about knowing people in culture, not methods of evangelism and church growth.

The church has traditionally tried to reach the world with the Gospel by casting large nets – revival campaigns, VBS, radio/television ministries, tract distribution and showing the Jesus Film. Using those methods we pray for a few people to get caught in God’s net, but many escape, some swim away frightened, others angry and offended. I'm suggesting the better way to reach a nation for God is through building a relationship with those who live in our community, to fish for the souls of men, one at a time.

Of course this is not the role of the full-time pastor or missionary alone. In fact, its everyday followers of Christ who work in an office or factory and the community where they live who should be about the business of pole fishing. Being friends with those we live with, living a consistent godly life of integrity, without gossip or anger; by helping them in their time of need, this is the way of pole fishing.

To be a good pole fisherman you have to know the way of the fish – go where they swim, know what they feed on. This means that we, as fishers of men, must be, like our Lord, “a friend of sinners.” Christ came not into the world to condemn the world; He came with love and compassion that they might have salvation. And so it is with us. May we get out of the secure confines of our boat, i.e. the church, put away our nets and go fishing, each day we live.