Butting Heads

No doubt you’ve heard the expression, “Those two people are always butting heads.” Ever wonder where that expression came from?

While sitting underneath a tree near my mud hut a neighboring herd of goats passed through my compound to graze. Two young male goats, “Billy’s I think they are called,” decided that they would engage in what young males often do, see who is the toughest. For at least thirty minutes I watched these two adolescent males work off their testosterone frustration, as they are not yet big enough to breed with the many females in the herd. Raring up on their hind legs they would slam their heads together with such blows you could hear the thump with each mighty crash.

As a young man I often butted heads with people, trying, I suppose, to assert my position with those I worked with, in my marriage and with other relationships in an effort to be perceived as right. I often butted heads with my dad growing up and I sure did butt heads with my teenage daughters when they were at home, which I deeply regret today. Much older now, I no longer butt heads with people, certainly much less than when I was a kid (no pun intended). I’m learning that those who engage in head butting are, for the most part, immature, expending a lot of energy without getting anything worthwhile done. Like the dominant male in the herd, I continue to graze while I watch others knock each other out with their senseless head butting. I know that sometimes I should engage more, but rather than deal with the he obstinate or foolish, I would prefer not be involved. It’s amazing to me how many people I know who have been butting heads with others all their lives. You’d think by now they would know better, but instead they continue to have conflict in their lives primarily due to meaningless butt heading.

So, the next time you feel like you’re butting your head against the wall or that you have someone in your life you are always butting heads with, learn the lesson from the bush – at the end of the day the only thing that is accomplished with endless head butting is a headache and you still haven’t solved anything.

Culture Change Among the Pokot

The song by Clint Black, "This Killin Time Is Killing Me,” runs through my head as I spend the last full day in Pokot. Doing research in the bush is a long arduous task.

I came down here for the express purpose of finding out what has changed in the church and in the culture since my departure as a resident missionary in Kenya twenty years ago. When I asked Father Anthony, the local padre who has lived in Pokot since the early ‘70’s what has changed, his reply was quick and to the point – “Not much!”

Indeed, if one minute equals a year, in the past twenty years the Pokot may have moved ahead not ore than five minutes since my departure in 1989. The steps of change shift exceedingly slow in the desert, but they are few outward symbols of modification. Gone are those who wear goatskins; gone, too, are the open display of initiation rites for boys and girls. While it is true that there are many more Pokot children going to school, I am amazed how many young people are still hindered by their parents to leave the traditions of the past to embrace the 21st century.

It was my hypothesis, when I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the social structure of the Pokot two decades ago, that these herdsmen are not so much resistant to the Gospel as they are just resistant to change. My time this past week in Pokot confirms that premise. Change takes place when there is a compelling reason to make revisions in life. For many of the Pokot they don’t see an overwhelming reason for them to trade in their fimbo (herding stick) for schoolbooks. Even if their kids finish Form Four (equivalent of finishing the 12th grade in the U.S.), the chances of those kids going on to the university is nearly impossible. There are no guarantees in the promise of education as finding meaningful employment anywhere in Kenya, and especially in Pokot, is as rare as a rain shower in January in this desolate land. Herding cattle and goats may not be the path to material well being, in fact it’s a life that is, at best subsistent. But if one does not aspire to live in anything but a mud hut, is content with sleeping under the shade of a tree in the afternoon, drinking homemade beer at night and producing twenty kids with three wives, what’s the attraction to risking that way of life for the modern world which has yet to show a better way?

Unlike many missionaries, I do not equate change as a measure of evangelistic outreach. Whether the Pokot drink blood, practice polygyny and refuse to learn how to read or write is not primary for me as none of these things are salvation issues. What is important is how we communicate the Gospel to the Pokot in their context, no matter how backward we may think they are. That was my conclusion twenty years ago and that, along with the Pokot culture, has not changed.

Observing Culture: The Reward of the Wait

Studying culture through observation research is a lot like hunting, though it takes a great deal more time. Those who hunt deer or turkey must put up a stand or blind, sit in a camouflaged hole and hope something comes by. The reward of the wait is the kill.

As a missionary anthropologist studying culture, like a hunter, I seek out a target or subject in mind, in this case the Pokot of northwest Kenya. Unlike a hunter, however, I am hardly incognito as I spend my days in the village hoping to learn something significant about these nomadic and unreached people. It’s the pieces of the puzzle I am looking for which will lead me to a clearer picture of the whole as it relates to the social structure, worldview and avenues for communication to these pastoralists which live in the bush.

Here is an example of a cultural find this past week through observation research:

As I trek down a path outside the village a woman walks by with a cowbell clanging from her waist. I ask my Pokot friend what it means and he tells me she is the mother of a recently circumcised boy. By cultural law the boy is forbidden to see his mother during the period of healing (thirty days) and to avoid such a taboo the cowbell alerts him if she walks nearby. As a researcher you couldn’t organize such a discovery if you tried; such findings is almost by accident gained through the wait.

C.S. Lewis writes, “I happen to believe that you cannot study man, you can only get to know them, which is quite a different thing.” I partly agree. I do believe that is through knowing a people that you learn best about them and not through sitting in a class or reading a book. However, sometimes you need to know how to study people to know them and understand what you are observing. It is through structured cultural analysis, i.e. knowing their worldview, kinship network, web of interpersonal relationships, that allows and outsider, like myself, to really get to know people of different cultures.

Twenty years ago I lived in Pokot and got to know them well, so this past week was not merely idle curiosity and certainly not a tourist event. Most of my days in the bush was long, hot and boring and, on the surface, neither earth shattering, life changing or having great eternal benefits…yet. Being in-place, on-site is the only way one will ever gain legitimate emic insights into the society of another. Learning more about the Pokot, even if it seems insignificant, is the reward of the wait.

The Backside of the Desert – Where God Speaks

As I write this I’m sitting underneath a tree beside the mud hut I’ve been staying for the past five days. I won’t be able to post this until next week, as I am at least 80 miles from the nearest cyber café. No electricity, no running water, yet I was able to call my daughter in America on my cell phone. Remarkable.

One of the joys of being in the desert is the time I’ve had to sit, read and reflect. When I get back to civilization my thoughts will be bombarded with a barrage of information, some worthwhile and interesting, other meaningless and mundane. Not having television, radio, Internet or even a daily newspaper, I am cut off to the world of distraction.

My companions on this safari are Hiebert’s work, “Transforming Worldviews,” a biography on J.R.R. Tolkien (author of “ The Hobbit,” and “Lord of the Rings’) and my Bible. God’s Word is my compass, gives me balance and reminds me who He is and what He wants me to be. Rebuked, comforted, challenged, His Word brings me to the reality of eternity and moves my mind away from temporal desires.

Hiebert is all academic, which is good because it is in the field of academics and missionary anthropology that I’m down in this wasteland in the first place. I need to be in the constraints of the desert to digest all that Hiebert has to say.

Reading about the life of Tolkien, who was a contemporary of C.S. Lewis and a member of the informal writers fraternity called the Inklings, is pure entertainment. What’s interesting about this writer was that he was, by all appearances, a very ordinary man who lived a very ordinary life. What set him apart was that he wrote an extra ordinary book, which brought him notoriety and wealth, but did not change this ordinary way of life.


It’s difficult staying down here in the low country as it is quite lonely, hot, and I do look forward to reemerging with the rest of the world in a few days (and especially a long shower). But I shall miss the solitude of the bush; for it is at the backside of the desert that God Himself would withdraw to commune with heaven.

Tanzania to Kenya

The past week I have been in Tanzania, first in Morogo, then to Dar es Salaam.  The seven hour journey from Dar to Moshi, which is at the base of Mt. Kiliminjaro was taxing.  While in Moshi taught pastors on cross-cultural communication and church planting. 

Of course it's always good to be with missionary friends.  Some of these guys I have known for over 15 years as they have served in this country.  One of the best ways to sharpen ones own thinking is be around those who wrestle with the  issues each day.

From Moshi we travelled to Nairobi. In a few minutes will fly to Kitale where I will be working for for two weeks, primarily in West Pokot. I look forward to my time in the bush, but a bit anxious. Working in the desert is not for the faint of heart.

Default Cultures and Personalities

There was a time that the word default meant only something that failed, like a loan. In computer terms a default is something that is preset and goes back to that setting unless it is intentionally programmed to do otherwise. The default color for MS Word is black. I can make it blue for this blog, but the next time I create a new document it won’t be blue but will default back to black.

In Sherwood Lingenfelter’s latest book he mentions there is a default culture that people fall back to as it relates to behavior or practice. I have taught this concept in my class for years, but never used the term. When speaking of “time” I tell my students that an African can learn to be “on time” if he/she has a job which requires punctuality, but since Africans (South Asian’s and Latin’s) are notoriously late for everything outside the workplace they default back to being “event” oriented. Enculturation is a pattern of behavior set by culture and it’s a process that is deeply ingrained in a person early in life and becomes their default setting throughout their existence on earth. An African may become a follower of Christ, but the superstition associated with his animistic past will be a default practice in times of crisis, which includes going to the witchdoctor.

Default behavior is not only cultural but is true with personalities as well. If a person is a worrier, manipulative, prone to anger, feelings of negative self-worth or lazy, it’s because they have a set a life pattern that becomes their default personality. People who have a good outlook on life, an encourager, are generous, laid back, creative, speak well of others are good practices that has been developed probably in a home environment that programmed them into a default pattern (good argument for the need of good parenting and good home atmosphere).

It is possible to change some cultural or behavioral tendencies as a person gets older, but precedent has been established early and few people will change basic dispositions after they are past puberty. Implications? First, if you are a parent of small children work hard and intentional on the lives of those little ones God has given you. Your role in setting your kids default settings can’t be over emphasized. Second, we can change patterns in our personalities, but to do so means we have to reboot every day and throughout the day reconfigure the settings in our life. That comes with spending time in His Word and being mindful of God’s instructions. If you’re like me, you will have to reboot several times a day because, sadly, my behavior always go back to a bad default setting.

First Stop - Tanzania

First stop on this five-week journey is in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Located in on the east side of the continent, Tanzania is the birthplace of Swahili. I haven’t used Swahili for a year but by the time I finish teaching here and in Kenya I should have much of it back, at least enough to communicate well. Tanzania Swahili is what they call “safi,” or clean. Having worked in the bush of Kenya for 14 years, my usage of this trade language is classified as “upcountry” Swahili, not always grammatically precise. As I teach in Tanzania I will depend on an interpreter and will no doubt throw in Swahili words and phrases throughout.

One my goals for this trip is to put into practice many of the things I teach my students. As a quasi-anthropologist, I want to try to learn as much about the underlying reasons why people do what they do and use that knowledge to help them communicate the message of Christ more effectively. Tanzania has a history of political collectivism, patterned after Chinese socialism. They are also a unique sub-Saharan country as they have a significant Muslim population. Using the patterns of their worldview, what are the key issues within their social environment that can be used as a bridge for the Gospel? As I remind my students, it’s not enough to know the answer, we must be aware of the questions in each social context. My goal is to discover the questions and figure out how to connect the dots.

Year End - Year Beginning

If you read this blog on a regular basis you have a pretty good idea what I do. However, each year I send out an annual report. For those interested in reading this report, click here Lewis-Training.com/08 report.pdf. Not only will this give you a good overview of our work but what's in store for 2009, which includes teaching in India as well as doing research in the bush of Kenya.

A New Year's Reflection and a One Day Reminder

The dawn of a New Year makes me realize how quickly the old ones have gone by.

I grew up with the great tradition of New Year’s Day living in California (this was in the '50's, not during the Great Depression as some of my students think). We got up early to watch the Rose Bowl Parade on our black and white television (hard to see the beautiful flowers when everything is gray), and of course college football all day long. Those were the days when there was only the Cotton Bowl, Orange Bowl, Sugar Bowl and Rose Bowl. In-between games my brother and I and the neighborhood kids would go on the front lawn and have our own make-believe bowl game.

My first preaching gig was on New Year’s Eve, 1967, I think. Our church always had a “Watch-Night Service” (the churches lame attempt to have an alternative program to counter the decadent parties of the world). Church members would meet about 7 p.m. and it would go on until the final prayer soon after mid-night. It was 5 hours of pure boredom as we sang, listened to sermons, from just about anyone who wanted to speak, eat finger food and pray. I think I preached the entire book of Revelation that night, in 30 minutes! (You never know when you will get another chance, so unload all you’ve got when you can).

New Year’s use to be a time when I would sit down and make goals for the year ahead, dream about where I want to be five years from now. I don’t do that anymore, but probably should. Part of the reason is because I am planning ahead all the time. I pretty much know where I will be and what I will be doing in 2009, that is, as far as I have anything to do with it.


My wife calculated that her dad, who passed away a week and half ago and one day after his 84th birthday, lived 30,661 days -- that’s the exact days God allotted to my father-in-law. As 2008 ticks away and gives way to 2009 I’m mindful that it’s not the year or the decade that defines who we are, but the days we are given. The accumulation of days and the decisions we made in those days are what’s important. I can make plans for tomorrow, but since this might be my last post, it’s more important that I make this day count. God help me to live it for Him and not myself.

LEADING Cross-Culturally

This past week I finished reading Sherwood Lingenfelter’s new book, LEADING Cross-Culturally. In all of Shewood’s works there are two common threads, which are (1) anthropological, and what he defines as (2) kingdom principles. I have known Sherwood for 20 years and he was the chair for my doctoral studies at Biola, so I’m familiar with his style and intent.

In this book the two major concepts I gleaned was the discussion of default culture and his definition of the differences between managing and leading. In the mission world, one of the weaknesses in ministry is that, using power and authority, missionaries tend to manage rather than lead. Sherwood ‘s concept of responsible-for versus responsible-to is an important distinction that every missionary would do well to learn.

The book is primarily for those of us who work with multicultural teams; how people from culture A interacts with people from culture B, C and D. Most leadership books are slanted to principles and practices from the West, essentially ignoring leadership styles of non-Western cultures. Missionaries are dismayed when their foreign colleagues fall back to their default cultural way of doing things. Sherwood is more generous with case studies in this book and through illustrations helps solve the problem, not just stating the obvious. Ironically, my article "How Cultures Work: A Roadmap for Intercultural Understanding in the Workplace" was published in the latest issue of the Evangelical Missions Quarterly this week. Sherwood’s book confirmed some of my own understanding on how to solve problems working with multicultural teams. Get a copy of Lingelter’s book as I think it has some keen insights for those who serve cross-culturally.

Annual Scrooge Blog

It’s time for my annual Scrooge Letter. I hate Christmas…bah humbug. I hate the commercialism, the hypocrisy of gift giving and the expectations from people I care little about (I have an irritating nephew who I see maybe twice a year, who acts offended when we don’t buy him something). Okay, that’s a bit harsh, but needless to say (I know if it’s needless, why say it), December 25th is not my favorite day of the year.

The only redeeming part of Christmas is being with family (but not all of our family will be together and if you've been reading previous posts you know it will not be a festive time for the extended family). Of course the food is a definite Yule Tide plus and we’re talking quantity as well as quality. This year it will be chicken, ham and brisket…a meat-lovers version of heaven along with the side order of sweet potatoes, broccoli salad, green salad, my mom’s homemade hot rolls, walnut and chocolate pie. I’m sure Mary and Joseph had a similar spread in the cow stalls of Bethlehem.

I use to be fascinated with the Christmas story, but as I get older I see it from such a different perspective. You really do have to be a believer in Christ to believe the Christmas narrative, because on face value, it’s just a very weird story (only post moderns will confess this openly). The virgin conceiving, angels appearing to shepherds in the fields to announce His birth, wise men traveling with gifts for a king, all sound pretty far-fetched. The only thing in the story I get is taxation by Governor Herod (representing all politicians) as death and taxes are historical/universal constants; Mary and Joseph having to sleep in a barn, which may have been just as comfortable as a first century inn. The Son of God as a baby, the one who created all things being fed and changed? Sorry, my mind doesn’t even want to go there.

If you are a believer you accept anything that is far-fetched. Ganesh riding on a rat; Mohammed, the illiterate writing the Koran or the angel Moroni appearing to another illiterate by the name of Joseph Smith who founded the Mormon church. And how about the secularist who place their far-fetched beliefs in the scientist who do their best to manipulate data to convince the unenlightened that the whole universe is the result of a cosmic accident and who now tell us that only the insane would not believe in man-made global warming.

Here’s the deal, we choose to believe what we want to believe. The Christmas story is not logical, but unless you have no use for the metaphysical, it is supernaturally plausible. Theologically I can’t accept a divine birth that was the product of human union. I’m not going to pick the story apart just to make it more acceptable to my finite understanding. God isn’t interested in my theological engineering to make all the pieces fit. Faith is that thing we don’t understand but we accept it anyway. The Master of the universe doesn’t read the polls, and is not concerned whether man comprehends everything about Himself. With finiteness comes mystery. The Christmas story is one of those great mysteries of God. So, as a follower of the Christ I accept that He was born that He might die for my salvation. I acknowledge it on the basis of total blind faith. It may not make sense to me and perhaps that fact alone may be the best argument for why the Bethlehem scene is true. While I may hate the season for what modern man has made of it, now a global holiday for even the infidels, I still like the fact that God loved me so much that He would send Immanuel (God with us) to this earth to live and die for my salvation. So, in spite of distaste for the day, MERRY CHRISTMAS…but I’m still not buying my nephew a present.

The Great Transition

As I drove home last night I thought about knowing and being known in heaven. The scripture seems to suggest that the saints of God, those who die in Christ, while absent from the body are present with the Lord. So when a person who is a follower of Christ dies, as my father-in-law did yesterday, they slip from consciousness of the physical to a different realm of awareness in the metaphysical. My father-in-law fell asleep in his chair and his heart just stopped. I wonder in the transition between time (which ceased for him when the heart quit and eternity began), and space (when he no longer was in his recliner in Bethel Heights, Arkansas, into the presence of God), when did Fred realize he was no longer dreaming?

When it comes to talking about the state of the soul of man after death most of it is conjecture. I’m sure that St. Peter didn’t meet Fred at the proverbial pearly gates, but I do wonder how the changeover took place. As he was trying to figure out this weird dream in a different environment, was there a band of relatives around him welcoming him to this strange place in his dream? Perhaps. But if we know and are known, then anyone would be recognizable to him.

“Well, hello, Elijah,” Fred might have said as he saw the Old Testament legend walk by, “I was reading about you just last night.”

“Hi Fred,” Moses might have called out.” Glad to see you here. We’ve been expecting you.”

In Fred’s initial state of eternity he might have thought to himself, “Wow, this dream feels so real!”

Perhaps (pure conjecture you understand), everyone knew Fred when he arrived as they recognized him in his overalls. My father-in-law seldom wore anything but overalls and I only saw him wear a suit one time, at Sandy’s and my wedding. I can’t imagine Fred in a white robe so I am assuming, if we know and are known, there are overalls in heaven. (For those not from the rural south, there is a difference between overalls and coveralls).


As I continued to drive home last night I imagined Christ was the first one to appear in Fred’s dream. I know that’s the first person I want to see as I transfer from mortality to immortality. Perhaps (merely conjecture you understand), the Lord might be dressed in the common attire of a first century Mediterranean carpenter and, as Jesus embraced my father-in-law he said something like, “I’ve been preparing a place for you Fred, let me show you around.”

Conjecture indeed. But I do wonder how long it took for Fred to realize he wasn’t dreaming?

As the family left behind, still trapped in time, grieves and prepares to place his human shell in the grave, Fred is coming to grips in knowing. And, as he is getting use to his new surroundings, he is known as the redeemed recognize him. For those in Christ death is not something to fear, it’s merely a passage between that which we have known to a place where we will know, where time is no more.

Killing Lizards

One of the truly great things about the U.S. is their public library system. Last week I traveled to North Carolina, a journey of 32 hours driving up and back. Before leaving my home I visited my local library and checked out some books on CD. Listening to books is a heck of a lot more entertaining than listening to talk radio or music – and they keep me awake as I look down the long corridor of Interstate 40.

One of the books I listened to was The Great Divorce, by C.S. Lewis. The plot is that of ghosts who have taken a bus from purgatory to heaven (or at least it will be heaven if they choose to stay). They are there to see if they really want to enter into heaven, or catch the bus back to purgatory. If they choose to stay, there are conditions. The people in this drama range from a woman who insists she see her son who she loved on earth (though her love was more for self and her needs than for her son), a theologian who didn’t appreciate the entrance requirements for heaven (in his case humility) because he was not recognized for his scholarship, a wife who didn’t want to meet her dead husband unless she could tell him how to live his life (as she did on earth).

In one scene there is a man walking about with a ugly little creature on his shoulder, a red lizard. He kept talking to the creature, “Get away from me. Shut up!” A fiery angel approaches the man and asks in a stern voice, “Do you want me to kill it?” The man is stunned and argues for sometime with the angel, insisting he doesn’t really want the creature killed, he merely wants it silenced. With each argument the angel repeats the question, “Do you want me to kill it?” The ghost is afraid; if the angel kills the creature he, too, will be hurt, even die.

I take it the creature represents those “besetting sins” (Hebrews 12:1), that all men and women must deal with in life, those habits that keep us from running the good race toward the reward of our salvation. Our creature may be pride, selfishness, lust, insecurities, doubt, an addiction, laziness or perhaps misplaced affection. Our little creature, though annoying, has become a fixture in our lives and, though we loathe the little reptile, we can’t seem to muster the courage to just kill the damn thing.

In Lewis’ story, the ghost FINALLY consents to the elimination of the little read creature and the lizard writhes in ghastly pain in its demise. Remarkably the creature becomes transformed into a magnificent stallion.

As I continued my journey down the highway, I thought of all the little red lizards in my life and prayed that God will give me courage to kill that which keeps me from being transformed into the image of the One who loves me and wants the best for me. “Do you want me to kill it?” He says to me. “Yes, Lord. Even though I am afraid, kill the little beast.”

Indian 12 Days of Christmas

Sent to me by one of my Indian friends in Delhi.

Consultants and the Non-Resident Missionary

Talking with my brother the other day he was telling me about the world of business consultants. He said that people often are shocked by consulting fees, as some consultants make between $500 to $20,00 a day. He then told me about a survey that revealed that only about 20% of the employees in any one company are truly engaged in the business. The other 80% are employed, get a weekly paycheck but a lot of their days are having coffee with other employees, reading email, surfing the net and only spend a few hours a day actually doing work. “When a consultant comes into work he is 100% there and often putting in 12 hour days. While a consultant fee may seem pricy, you can be sure that what they do will be full-on and focused.”

As a non-resident missionary, who now travels four or five times a year to the field and is away from home 3 to 8 weeks at a time, I see a parallel between people living on the field 24/7 and my role as one who works under contract. Since I’ve been in the mission business for 30 years, both field as well as non-resident, I have observed that 80% of the career missionaries who live in a foreign land, many do less work than I do with my frequent visits. There are indeed some truly committed field missionaries who serve with a sense of responsibility. There are others who spend most of their time just living and with occasional focus on the task. When I pack my bags and head overseas it’s not a part-time activity. On my most recent trip I taught for six weeks straight, at least 4 hours a day. If you know anything about teaching you know the out of class activity is visiting with students and preparing for the next days. As one who has visited over 40 countries and lived in two countries, unlike short-term visitors who spend less than two weeks, I am not a tourist fascinated by the culture or trying to adjust to the food. When I am not on the field, like most consultants, my “off time” is spent in reading, doing research and preparing for the next assignment.

When it comes to my consulting fees, well, that’s when this analogy with business consultants breaks down. Most of the places I serve I pay my own way. In partnership with donors, this ministry is a service. My clients are really those who invest in what I do for the church worldwide. They expect, and rightly so, that I serve, not part-time, but full-on and focused.

We All Teach Heresy, But Be Intellectually Honest About It

In one of my classes I teach epistemology, the science of knowledge. My challenge is “how to do you know what you know and how do you know what you know is right?” I then give the students an epistemological quiz (20 questions) to test their theological consistencies. A sampling of the quiz, adapted from Paul Hiebert, true or false:

1. Muslim believers in Jesus cannot continue to pray at the mosque.
2. Slavery is permissible if slaves are treated well.
3. Polygamy is adultery, therefore a sin.
4. Forbid teaching from the Koran or other holy books.
5. A Christian should not engage in any Hindu or Muslim festivals.

At some point I recount the story of my old hermeneutics professor who said at the end of the term, “Gentlemen, recognize that in your ministry all of you will teach some heresy.”

“Great.” I thought, “I’ve spent a semester learning how to properly interpret the text, and he concludes telling us we are going to teach heresy!”

Nearly 40 years since those college days and nearly the same period of time in ministry, I have come to the conclusion that the old professor was right. We all gain our knowledge through a prism defined by culture, our time and what information we will allow into our minds. Do we read secular philosophy or the writings of other religious scholars? For the first twenty-five years of my ministry I never read anything but evangelical material. Up to that time I had never visited a Catholic Church, read anything by Marx or had any idea what a Hindu believed. Why? FEAR.

The greatest threat to intellectual or spiritual growth is the fear that somehow, if we expose ourselves to anything that is not within the framework of what we believe is truth, we will become an apostate, end up a drunken atheist. While I understand the dangers of false teaching, error is often the result of limited or filtered knowledge. Paul stated that we see (understand) through a glass darkly, i.e. have an obscure or imperfect vision of reality. Heresy is indeed a result of faulty hermeneutics and part of our flawed interpretation is due to self-induced bias.

But of course, heresy is not just an evangelical Christian problem. Every religious zealot in the world holds to a belief system born more out of cultural conditioning than in an honest pursuit of truth. Even science, which for some is the final answer to everything, is bound by parallaxes of vision. In the movie, EXPELLED: No Intelligence Allowed, it is interesting that Darwinism, which itself is always evolving, is bigoted in their opinion and have no tolerance for intellectual debate.



As a postmodernist follower of Christ, who holds to his absolutes absolutely, I realize that the search for truth is part of my working out my own salvation. In the process, I hope I am and not teaching heresy, but know that I probably am (and so are you).

A Day of Grace to Say Thanks

I have no statistics on this, but I’m guessing that Thanksgiving Day is the second most popular American holiday, Christmas being number one. Personally, I have always favored this holiday as it is the one day where we, as a nation, collectively and individually, pause long enough to give thanks to our Creator for His goodness. In some ways it should be called Grace Day, as it is only through God’s grace that we have anything to be thankful for.

91% of Americans will eat Turkey this year, the official bird of Thanksgiving and the fowl Benjamin Franklin wanted as our national symbol. Interesting, Columbus thought the turkey was like a peacock and therefore called the bird “tuka,” which is Tamil, the language in one of the southern sates of India. The average household food bill for this one meal will be $44.61, as our well-fed nation will consume 46 million birds, dressing and pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving Day is family time, and in a country where increasingly our individualistic society is ever more disconnected, there is that pull to bring families together, if not to give thanks, at least to watch football.


As my nation leads up to this grandest of all holidays the emphasis, as seems to be case with everything in the U.S., will be on the economy. The focus for Wall Street is not on Thursday but the day after, known as Black Friday. Consumerism is the god of goodness, the deity of prosperity. More attention will be given this year to Black Friday, which is the unofficial beginning of Christmas shopping, than on the God who allows us the freedom, health and wealth to buy the junk we import from China and other developing countries. We’ve come a long way since that first Thanksgiving where our Pilgrim father’s shared a meal with the Wampanoag Indians at Plymouth Rock.

The forecast for Thanksgiving in my part of the world is partly cloudy and that pretty much sums up my feelings. The tension will always be to look at the dark side of things, but the setting aside a day to say thanks allows us to see the world is only partly cloudy and we have a lot to be thankful for. Thursday I probably will be asked to say grace over the meal, as I am the official prayer giver at my in-laws house. I can perform this ritual, which is meaningless to some in the family, not through rote liturgy, but because I know it’s God’s grace that allows me the privilege to say thanks.

Shame and Social Control

The class lecture was on social control. In this class I present the different mechanisms of control and how those mechanisms make us conform into the image of our cultural environment. Formal controls are rules and laws passed by society on what is proper/improper behavior (e.g. speed limits, paying taxes, age limit for consensual sex). Informal mechanisms of control are set by family, interest groups and religion (endogamy for marriage within defined ethnicity; Weight Watchers using shame techniques for dieters and fear of the supernatural to control devotees of faith). The media is big on shame manipulation and social control. In every election people are called “idiots” if they vote for one candidate, while others are sophisticated if they vote for the other person the media has anointed worthy of office. Social control can be subtle or overt, but it’s a phenomenon that takes place constantly.

While the class discussion continued, a young lady from northeast India told her story. She recounted that the reason she was in seminary was because of the expectations of her family. At a young age she was “consecrated” by her parents for God’s service. Though she insisted that she indeed wanted to serve Christ and enrolling in this school was her choice, she said she never thought much about doing anything else because of the expectations of her family. She then went on to say, choking back emotion that would lead to tears, that her pastor told her that if she did not fulfill the consecration of her family that she would be cursed and perhaps that curse would even fall on her parents.

As I listened to her story I was both incensed and saddened. Saddened because this truly sincere but confused young woman was serving Christ, partly because of personal choice, but strongly influenced by social control. Incensed because a pastor dared to use the fear of the supernatural to shame this person to conform to the wishes of her parents and even the church. For too many religious leaders, be they Christian, Muslim or Hindu, theology is a form of quality control and they set themselves up as one who speaks for God to pass judgment. Not only is that theological heresy, when it comes to manipulating the emotions of others it borders on the criminal of physiological abuse.

All of humanity is pushed, pulled and jerked around by the opinions of family, peers, religion and the constant barrage of influence that comes our way through music and the film industry. Paul admonished the followers of Jesus not be conformed to the things of this world but be transformed into the image of Christ. While the battle for control continues, our Creator is trying to break through to show us His love, mercy and patience. And He does that without heaping on us guilt and shame…that’s the work of the enemy.

Is There A Doctor In The House?

In Thailand the Mission Commission of the World Evangelical Alliance celebrated its 11th Global Consultation with the attendance of 250 mission and church leaders from over 50 nations.

The MC convenes a global consultation every two or three years for mutual encouragement, fellowship and building of relationships, growth in the understanding of the missional enterprise around the globe, dealing with global issues and challenges, and planning the joint work and strategies, in order to become better equipped for the work.


This time the MC consultation focused primarily the missiological issues of Contextualization, Mission and Spirituality, and Mission in the Context of Suffering, Violence, Persecution and Martyrdom. The general reflection of all participants and the specific missiological teams generated the core content for a new series of three missiological books based on the work done by the Global Missiology Task Force. These books will be published during the next three years.


In a hall knee-deep in PhD’s and scholars, I didn’t see one nametag that reflected their educational accomplishments. Mission practioners are more focused on the task and solving crucial problems rather than impressing others with their credentials. The consultation provided intellectual and spiritual thought without the need to ask if there was a doctor in the house.

Wal-Mart and Zolfresh

The journey isn’t complete until your body and mind merge into the same time zone. After 30 hours of travel, 18 of them in an airplane and the balance in airports, my journey to Asia and back is nearly complete. Eight weeks and 40,000 miles of travel are over, but one cannot quite say they are home until they can sleep right through the night and can stay awake throughout the day.

For me, jetlag is a part of the job, so I am forever trying to learn new ways to make the transition less painful. Staying awake all day without so much as a power nap is nearly impossible. When the body tells you it’s 3 a.m. in Bangalore yet you jut finished lunch in Arkansas, there is no way to convince the sleep sensors of the brain differently. I fight to stay awake until 9 p.m., but succumb to the lure of the mattress and pillow before 8, convinced that I will not wake again for at least three days. Four hours later my eyes pop open, I feel refreshed, but why is it still dark outside? And, by the way, where am I? Stumbling for the light in a room that I vaguely remember, I discover that it’s 1 a.m. Now what do I do until the light of day?

Two options at the beginning of closing the journey is Wal-Mart or zolfresh.

For my non-Western friends, Wal-Mart is the largest retailer in the U.S., with annual revenue of over $300 billion. Most of their stores are open 24/7, selling everything from eggs to tractor parts -- if Wal-Mart doesn’t have it you probably don’t need it. The superstores are nearly 10 acres of clothes, house wares, electronics, food and even a full service pharmacy where you take your own blood pressure. When your body doesn’t know you should be prone rather than upright, nothing is more interesting than walking the aisles of Wal-Mart and observing who else can’t sleep.

The other option is chemically telling your body that you’ve had it and YOU WILL GO TO SLEEP! Taking 10 mg of this little pill is forcing the body into submission, but it still doesn’t help the drowsies in the afternoon, so you end up at Wal-Mart anyway.

When I asked a flight attendant what she did to beat international jetlag she shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “Not much. I just brace myself to feel like crap for three days.” Not exactly the answer I was looking for, but reality is a harsh teacher.