What do I Miss?

As a RCA missionary on home assignment, I’m always pleased when I can do Q & A at a church after my regular presentation.  It’s useful to know what aspects of my work resonated with the members and what parts of missionary life pique their curiosity.  Inevitably—usually as one of the last questions—someone will ask, “What do you miss most while living in Niger?”

I do understand the “why” behind that inquiry.  Niger is a harsh place to live and work, with few amenities or Western goods—and it’s a long ways from home.  People are probably asking themselves “Could I do that?” in terms of coping with life in a non-Western world when they pose that question. Also, they're naturally curious as to what a missionary may be nostalgic for while overseas.

I usually respond that with cell phones and the internet, we can keep in close contact with family and friends these days.  After 10 years on the mission field, I’m pretty well-versed in how to navigate life in Niger and its limitations.  However, I admit that when given the chance to receive a Western item, I usually ask for boxed pepperoni, as it isn’t available, it’s relatively cheap and easy to transport and all the family loves that treat.   This usually generates smiles and nodding heads in the audience.

If I’m particularly feeling reflective, though, I might respond about how I miss interacting with Americans who are particularly talented and knowledgeable in their field and who can help me learn something new or deal with a problem that’s beyond my competency. In comparison, life is pretty simple in the African bush and most of the people I encounter have very little training or education, though they typically have other gifts and skills.

Yet, at another level, I have trouble relating to the question. First and foremost, I went to the mission field to serve Christ because I was called to do so (and for me full-time mission work had never been a life-long dream).  Simply put, I wouldn’t be suitable for cross-cultural ministry if my life was defined by desiring the American dream.   Jesus alluded to this reality in Luke 9:62 when he said "Anyone who puts a hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God." (ESV).  Those who constantly long for a life they left behind often don’t stay long on the mission field or they unconsciously try to make their new world into a version of their previous home with poor contextual witness being the result.

The larger concern may be, “Are we letting our possessions and preferences define us OVER who we are in Christ?" Similarly, should our personal plans and needs take priority over what God wants for our lives?  I recently saw a seminarian (perhaps in jest) write that he wanted to be pastor in a community that had an organic food market and a gourmet coffee shop*.  Would this person refuse a call to a poor inner-city church or to pastor a small Midwest farming town that has a growing population of Mexican immigrants—but no Starbucks ?  How do you follow Christ in life when you already know where you’re going and what you need?  Whatever happened to “my grace is sufficient for you”? (2 Cor 12:19).

 I don’t consider myself an ascetic (especially with my ample belly).  Being a missionary in Niger, though, has profoundly changed me.  I’ve buried in Niger many dreams, tastes and even skills that I once considered integral to how I saw myself.  There are times when I miss the “old” me and days when I’m not sure I appreciate the “new” me, but I have no regrets in going where Christ has led me.  He has always provided for me and my family.  More and more, I want what He wants for me.  Anything additional is a blessing!

*This example has been slightly modified.

“MOM and POP SHOPS” on the Mission Field

I spent the third week of January in Scottsdale, AZ for an RCA Mission Summit in which the General Secretary, RCA Global Missions supervisors and local RCA church leaders with mission responsibilities came together to talk about how each, respectively, does missions.  It was a thoughtful time of sharing and learning from each other.

Dr. Chuck Van Engen of Fuller Seminary’s School of Intercultural Studies (and former RCA missionary in Mexico) began the summit with an overview of mission trends.  In his presentation he introduced us to the term “Mom and Pop Shops” on the mission field.  Unlike denominational missions, faith-based mission organizations, thematic missions (with a specific target population or region for outreach) and the international charities that provide services, the “mom and pops” are often comprised of just a few key individuals working in one specific area/location with almost no association with a body larger than a local church or the organization’s board of directors.  Fifty years ago, they barely existed, but now they’re quite common.

On the positive side, these “mom and pops” may identify an unreached or an underserved field and quickly begin a needed ministry. A common scenario is that these missionaries got their call after going on a short-term mission trip or after having lived overseas and believing that God wanted them to serve there.  I personally know of a former missionary (not in the RCA) who was frustrated because her denominational supervisor wasn’t supportive of her ideas (the local believers were, though) and after several attempts trying to work through the denominational hierarchy, she finally left.  She organized a non-profit that’s doing all the things that she once assumed the denomination was committed to doing—and drawing her support from her denomination’s local churches!

The negative side, though, of many “mom and pops” provides several cautionary tales. One West Michigan missions pastor recalls discovering that a ministry his church supported was basically a vacation home for the “mom and pop shop” operators.  Another Midwest church embraced a local family that started a ministry in a poor Caribbean country.  The mission committee chair was asked to join the ministry’s board of directors and even sent their son there to help out.  When the son started raising some questions about the ministry’s ethics, the “mom and pop” asked the chair to please leave their board because they didn’t want to waste time and energy on responding to such concerns.

Indeed, many of these small ministries have little or no accountability outside the friends and family of the founders.  Frequently, it's next-to-impossible for a neutral observer to determine if the ministry’s objectives, activities and financial stewardship are worthy of support. Sometimes, too, those who are charged with such responsibilities have no clue on what’s realistic and acceptable in missions ministry.  There's nothing that they’ve done in Hometown, USA that prepares them for supervising in a cross-cultural, foreign-language, overseas environment.  They’re flying blind and have to take everything on faith.

Additionally, these “mom and pops” may also be quite paternalistic in their methods. Rather than strengthening local believers in their faith and capacities, they might find that highlighting local poverty and deprivations with plenty of tear-jerking video and photos bring in more outside funds to their ministry.  The reality is that no matter how pure one’s motives are, many people become susceptible to various temptations if they know no one’s providing adequate oversight.  All these good intentions can lead into a complicated, unhealthy mess that doesn't warrant church support.

I’ll close with a testimony for the RCA Global Missions approach.  As an RCA missionary, I’m held accountable in at least three ways.  First, we partner with a Nigerien church who sees my work on a daily basis, as I’m working on their priorities—not my own.  Second, every year my RCA African Missions Supervisor makes a site visit and holds discussions with Nigerien Christians about my ministry contributions.  Third, I’m required to communicate quarterly with supporting RCA churches and to periodically make visits.  Any negligence by an RCA missionary can usually be addressed fairly effectively in this system.   That’s not always the case for a “mom and pop shop.” Churches or individuals who supports these ministries needs to keep this in mind.

Back in the U.S.: First thoughts

I'm back in the United States after 2 1/2 years in Niger with no break.  Unlike other times, I didn't even leave the country during this period to attend a meeting or a workshop.  My three girls and I had (thankfully) uneventful flights in mid-December from 90 F Niger to 20 F Iowa, where we'll stay for the next 10 months while I'm on a six-month sabbatical combined with 3 months of home assignment and vacation.  My wife had to stay behind to finish her surgical and maternity rotations in medical school in Niamey, so I'll get to experience single parenthood for much of this time.

Although it's only been two weeks, let me share a couple of thoughts about returning to American culture after spending over two years in the African bush:

1) As soon as we entered our first U.S. airport in Chicago, I noticed that almost every person was staring into a hand-held electronic device.  There was literally no visual/facial contact made by anyone.  What surprised me was the extent of this: nearly everyone.  Coming from Africa where you're expected to greet everyone in the room--including perfect strangers, I found this quite jarring.  One goes home to see friendly faces.  Can one find any in the U.S.  (at least among the traveling public)?

2) The inanity of television commercials.  Could television commercials actually get dumber since my last visit in 2010?  From two weeks of watching local and cable TV, my answer is yes, especially all those urging you to call 1-800-something to place your order now.  They're worse then I remember and leave me feeling insulted. And mercifully, I missed the entire 2012 political campaign, which my Facebook friends complained about as being the worse ever.

3) Is it just me or did everthing get pricier?  While it's never easy or cheap to set up house--we're renting an older 2 bedroom home close to my parents-- and family and friends gladly loaned or gave us many of the household items we're using, life seems more expensive this time around. Some of that is certainly due to winter-related expenses and costs associated with enrolling 3 kids in Christian school and pre-school, but still. 

4) No one asks me about my ministry work back in Niger.  This is an old grievance voiced by missionaries everywhere.  We go from living, eating and drinking our mission activities in our foreign placement where our work dominates and often overwhelms us to return to the U.S. where no one seems at all interested in our professional responsabilities and challenges.  They'll ask about the weather and the food over there, but seldom will acquaintances ask about our work and lives, joys and problems on the mission field or how we're experiencing God's grace or seeing His will at work. Part of this is simply that our lives are so strange and different that many people can't relate or even know how to begin a conversation on that topic. Jesus was right: "you can't be a prophet in your home town." More and more we're strangers among our own people.  

RAMADAN: A COMMUNITY EVENT

When I was growing up in the 70s and 80s in Iowa, I had never heard of Ramadan, the annual lunar month of fasting that Muslims partake in, abstaining from eating, drinking and other proscribed activities from sunrise to sunset in order to focus on Allah.  I don’t think this cultural ignorance exists in the same way today for most Americans, as Ramadan festivities make the nightly news and even the President releases a Ramadan message.

When I spent nine months in northern Nigeria in 1990-91 as a Rotary Ambassador Scholar, however, I was totally disoriented to discover one week that some of the shops and restaurants I frequented were suddenly locked during “normal” business hours.  For example, many banks and offices would close at 3 or 4 p.m. so that everyone could go home and prepare the evening feast that broke the daily fast. I noticed several Nigerians sleeping at their posts (partly because they arose before sunrise to cook and eat), manifesting lethargy in their work and a few becoming surly as the day progressed and hunger and thirst dulled their senses.  Although almost all of my friends were Nigerian Christians at the time and though we were living in a predominantly Muslim city, no one had “briefed” me on Ramadan.  I had a tough time understanding what it was all about and had no idea how long it was going to last.

Since those days, I’ve lived among Muslims for at least 10 Ramadan periods.  No two Ramadans have been exactly the same. Part of this is because, unlike Christmas, Ramadan follows the lunar calendar and is never held at the same time in successive years and will eventually rotate through all of the calendar months. (Imagine Christmas sometimes occurring in April or August!)  A Ramadan in the rainy or cold season is much more joyous than a Ramadan in the hot season (when temperatures can hover over 110 ºF) or at planting or harvest, when one must spend the days laboring in the fields without refreshment.  When the U.S. was fighting in the Gulf, it seemed that Ramadan increased in importance to the local Nigerien population. I was more likely to be questioned if I, personally, was fasting or scowled at if I was purchasing a cold soda in a boutique during the heat of the day (which I would drink discretely in my vehicle).

Individual adherence to Ramadan varies a great deal, which probably should be expected in any group of people. Some fasters are serious; some are not (and secretly cheat). Many enjoy the feasting aspects--it has been noted that for those who engorge themselves on rich foods early in the morning and late at night and then lie around the rest of the day tend to actually get fatter during these four weeks. There is an expectation to serve more and better food than one regularly eats.  For others, Ramadan may be the only month of the year that they strictly follow Islam’s obligations, partly because of the heavy social pressure to do so.  And for some, Ramadan encourages these believers to draw closer to their faith, as they open their homes and share their meals with friends, family, visiting strangers and even the neighboring poor.  In these latter cases, we see a genuine faith community.

Community rituals of the faithful should remind us of what we believe, where we came from and how we should follow our God, despite our inability to perfectly perform them.  They call us to examine the larger truths of life in the context of the Body of believers, but through our own individual participation and, to a certain degree, accountability through our presence with others. Rituals are also about sharing and reaching out to those around us, which is a good reminder of our Christian responsibilities. Take these away and promote individual expression over all in faith practice and we are left with an idiosyncratic “every person doing whatever is right in his own eyes” (Deut. 12:8b), which is certainly inconsistent with God’s divine purpose for fellowship.

WHAT TO DO WITH FORMER MISSIONARIES?

We have missionary friends in their late 50s who, after nearly 30 years in Niger, announced that they were leaving the field to return to the U.S., largely because they concluded they couldn’t properly manage their chronic health issues in Niger.  The decision was made harder by the fact that their supporting churches—some who had helped them from the beginning-- told them that under no circumstances would they continue financial contributions once the couple left the international mission field (i.e.: only foreign-based missionaries were “worthy” of support).  Thus, any hope of transitioning to their mission’s U.S. headquarters to share their decades of cross-cultural experience and leadership evaporated. As Bob (not his real name) confided to me “Where can a man my age find work after all these years in Africa?” He then asked me, “Is ‘Welcome to Wal-mart’ going to be my future?”

Now in these tough economic times, I realize there are many men and women like our friends who find themselves in a similar, difficult position after years of productive and rewarding careers.  And while I don’t mean to diminish their realities, the former missionary faces some pretty unique challenges.  He or she has been absent from the U.S. working world for many years and often doesn’t have the kind of track record and skill set that’s immediately applicable to the American context.  Sure, the missionary can pray and preach in a strange tongue, navigate intricate cultural complexities involving semi-literate men holding automatic weapons and possess detailed knowledge on how to launch a Christian primary school in a foreign land, but that and $1.99 can get you a small cup of coffee at McDonalds.   

The sad thing is that the returning missionary may have been quite competent on the field in advancing Gospel ministry before being obliged to come home.  Going out for missions means they left behind a chance to develop a “normal” career and thus, regardless of their age, this missionary finds him- or her- self in a professional “no-man’s land”.  I’ve known former missionaries with advanced degrees who could only find jobs mowing lawns, performing custodial services and walking dogs after months of searching for meaningful work in the U.S.  Even missionary M.Div.’s discover that few local churches know how to relate to them since their unusual ministry experiences don’t correspond with the “business as usual” practices of much of North American Christianity.    Frequently, there’s just no “loop” for many cross-cultural faith workers to get back into, although medical workers may be a fortunate exception, as their skills are always needed. 

Bob’s situation, though, raises the issue of “domestic missionaries” which deserves further discussion.  With the United States and Canada constantly accepting and absorbing immigrants from non-Christian backgrounds, who are reaching out to these new residents as they start life in their new homes?  Perhaps the best people to make contact with them are former international missionaries who once served in the immigrants’ countries or homelands!  If we see missionaries as crossing cultures and not just national borders, then transferring these faith workers to domestic mission posts which permit them to use their acknowledged and unique skill sets for the Lord in their home country seems like a “win-win” situation. 

My experience has been that many missionaries leave their foreign postings due to physical or emotional health issues—whether theirs or their family members; children’s educational needs or financial problems (particularly if a spouse can’t work overseas) and not because they are tired of ministry. Usually, the missionary has developed a deep love for the people during their years of service and only leaves the international mission field with regret.  Under different conditions, they are willing to continue to serve the ethnic group where they have invested so much of their lives.

Modern mission thinkers are stressing that we need to conduct cross-cultural mission outreach by focusing on ethnicity and language groups and not simply on geographic entities like “Kenya” or “Mexico”.  If there are thousands of unchurched Tzotzils, for example, living in Southern California, perhaps sending a former RCA Tzotzil-speaking missionary who served in Chiapas to do ministry there would be a wise idea, rather than losing those invaluable cultural skills.

My questions to you are these:  1) Would such an endeavor of targeted immigrant church ministry be a classis responsibility or that of denominational Global Missions?    2) Would your congregation support a “domestic” missionary working in the U.S. among an immigrant people group?