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.

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.

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.  

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.

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?

 In many cases these missionaries are much better equipped psychologically and temperamentally to witness for Christ in the African context.  Most African faith workers are familiar with the slow pace of village life, taking public transportation, participating in community festivities and chatting for hours with friends and even strangers. They're able to live out their faith without being encumbered by budget-busting 4-wheel drive vehicles and huge houses that have become necessary for a Westerner to function on the mission field.  At the very least, our African brothers and sisters seem more approachable to the average Nigerien than we Westerners, who often appear indistinguishable from highly-paid UN workers that they might otherwise encounter.  Certainly the African missionary isn't expected to produce “handouts” in the same manner as we are which too often form the basis of the only relationships people are interested in.

 In different ways, though, dry, undeveloped and Islamic Niger proves as challenging to them as much as it does North American missionaries.  Those from tropical, coastal African countries with rich histories of vibrant Christianity, access to powerful biblical preaching and teaching and a desire for international community have trouble understanding dour, isolated and fatalistic Niger, where conserving one's energy often defines the daily routine.

Yet African missionaries often suffer in ways few Westerners ever do. I knew an Ivorian who traveled  to his oasis mission post with his wife and their possessions for 3 days on top of a large truck!  I've seen my African colleagues run totally out of funds because their sending mission failed to send them any, or worse, their church leaders told the person there was nothing available for them! One female missionary was obliged to travel 12 hours back to Jos, Nigeria every time her funds ran dry (which was every 5-6 months) and raise money anew for her ministry, as she didn't have a “standard” salary, means of regular support nor did she work under a mission agency that would manage her funding. That's a faith ministry model that is rarely seen in the West!

 Also, because Niger uses the French language in school, poorly paid Nigerians and Ghanians must leave their children behind with relatives or friends, as they can't afford the only English-language missionary kids' school in far-off Niamey.  For one missionary, this became problematic in itself as he learned trusted friends weren't properly caring for his child and kept asking him to send money from his meager salary to care for the girl and pay her school fees.  Some African sending churches simply can't comprehend why a missionary in a foreign land would need more support than one of their local pastor who has a parsonage, church car and other provided benefits earns, whereas the missionary has no separate ministry funds and must try to do everything out of his or her basic wages (and since we're land-locked, everything cost more in Niger, to boot!). 

Yet we Western and African missionaries share many common bonds on the mission field.  Several African missionaries have confided with me that since they're no longer worshiping in their home communities, they're shocked to find that their friends and family “forget” them when they go home and have trouble relating to their ministry experiences.  Others discover that rather than being respected, they're ridiculed for wasting their lives or putting their children's education at risk in the foreign country. This is particularly serious if the African is working among an ethne who are or once were considered as “enemies” by the missionary's own people.  Additionally, we're sometimes viewed by suspicion and/or jealousy by local Nigerien church leaders who don't have our theological formation, regular funding or time and tools to devote to ministry.

Now I know that some North Americans who read this will conclude that I've just explained why there's little need for the Western church to send missionaries to Africa when African missionaries can now do the job.  Therefore, they'll argue, our churches should target our resources for our people and communities and let the Africans take care of the Africans.  I don't think we've arrived at the point yet, and even when we do, there's so much value in working side-by-side with our African Christian colleagues in carrying out the Great Commission together, that it would be a shame to miss out on this foretaste of heaven's diversity that the foreign mission field now offers.  Besides as iron sharpens iron, we learn a lot from each other, we complement each others' skills and we encourage each other as foreigners in a strange land.

Here in Niger, Westerners are clearly associated with great wealth.  What’s worse, though, is the common assumption among the people that we’re getting paid a lot of money to live and work in the world’s poorest country.  Sadly, when speaking of United Nations and international non-government organizations, that is indeed the case.   In Niger, most foreign organizations pay a 25% hardship bonus above base salary for living in “primitive” Niger, as everything Western costs more to buy in the country.   At the end of the day, we’re all considered financial mercenaries of a sort.  Yes, the Westerners want to make a difference, it seems—but only if we’re well-paid to do so. 

I recently attended the opening of an obstetrics fistula repair hospital in which the visiting American surgeon addressed the crowd and said (along the lines of), “I have been richly blessed by these female patients”.  His Nigerien interpreter (roughly) rendered his words into French as “Ces patientes m’ont biens enrichis “ or in translation, “These female patients have made me rich”.   The interpreter was simply sharing his understanding of Western charity in the developing world.  The only real reason anyone would come to these places is to earn a lot of money, right?

 The Nigeriens generally lump missionaries into the same category as diplomats, UN staff and aid workers (and sometimes spies!).  This means that many people believe, like the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow, we possess a pot of gold.  We’re obviously here in Niger to distribute resources to poor people—since Islam teaches one earns Godly merit in this fashion--- “so what do you got for me?” underlies so many of our conversations.  If we missionaries respond, “I have Biblical knowledge, vocational training, health and sanitation techniques, etc, to share with you”, I think the average person thinks we’re holding out on them.  Somewhere, we’ve got the hard goods to hand out—as that’s what we foreigners do. 

I’ve discovered the pervasive perverseness of this mindset.  While promoting local technologies like pressed clay bricks for construction at the Bible School, I learned that some Nigerien Christians figured that I actually had the money to build in cement block, but I was using this “cheaper” method to pocket the difference!  It reminded me of the accusation against 19^th century missionaries in Hawaii, “they came out to do good, but instead did very well.” *  Still, everyone here knows someone working for a church or a non-profit who finds ways to manipulate project funds for personal benefit, so what can one expect? 

There are many approaches one can take to deal with these realities on the mission field, but I’m not sure if there’s a way to make them totally disappear.   Some days you just shrug your shoulders, some days you try to explain the facts to whoever will listen and on other days you wonder why you are even dealing with these false claims, when you just want to obediently serve God in missions.   But like the response to the government worker in the old joke, one must recognize that there are many people who don’t want the kind of help we missionaries left our homes to provide.  May God direct us to those who do!

*This is unfair, as it was usually the missionaries’ children that became wealthy land speculators and traders on the Hawaiian islands.

 Instead, people enjoy the radio.  Radio units are quite affordable, the simplest ones work with 25-cent batteries and they can be employed either in private or as a group-oriented activity with your friends or family members.  Radio content often comes “live”, providing you with the latest news and information for all who are within the station’s transmitting radius.  In the age of cell phones, radio also offers interactivity, with call-in shows being among the most listened-to programming, even among villagers.

 Reading, though, is often hard work in Niger, even for those who have been to school.  Whether in our Bible School classrooms or with a Nigerien family during evening devotions, I rarely hear the Hausa Bible being read in a pleasant, conversational tone.  Frequently, the average reader struggles to decode the words on the page, many of which are strange to him or her—and not just biblical names. 

  Paul’s theological terms, in particular, are words which the typical Hausa villager has never encountered when chatting away with his/her pals and which confuse many in Niger. Sometimes this happens because the Hausa Bible borrows from Arabic or even English-derived religious words to express certain Christian concepts that don’t normally exist in the Hausa language.  I once used the Hausa Bible term “holy” (tsarki) with a French-educated Nigerien linguist (he was Muslim).  He looked at me like I was crazy.  In his 60+ years he told me that he had never heard that Hausa word employed in the context that the Hausa Bible had done.  At times, these words become stumbling blocks and discourage many from further Bible reading.

With the help of the RCA-affiliated ministry, Audio Scripture Ministries (ASM) and some supporting RCA churches, we recently distributed our first-ever complete Hausa audio bibles on MegaVoice solar .mp3 players to our bible school students who have paid all their school fees.  These solar-powered .mp3 players contain the 2,380 chapter recording files that comprise the Bible.  Although I have only anecdotal evidence, the students with the players seem to find these audio texts valuable.  No longer is your ability to read a factor in understanding God’s word.  No longer are you limited to Bible Study during the daylight hours or when you have access to artificial lighting at night (an issue in places without electricity). You can listen to the Scriptures in a pleasant and constant voice and quickly repeat sections that you wish to hear again.  The audio players are loud enough that you can find others to listen in, as well, and together you can discuss passages.

 In the past 10 years or so, there’s been a renewed “discovery” of what’s termed orality when working with pre- and semi-literate people. Certain cultures and people groups have almost no experience with the written word and trying to get them to grow in their faith by handling printed materials and books like an educated Westerner produces a lot of frustration on all sides.   Those of us in missions could do better by using the tools and technologies that are best suited for these oral learners.  Still, old habits die hard and there’s a not-so-subtle expectation that good Christians must master reading the Bible, though it’s so obvious that not everyone can actually do so.

 During my years in Niger, I’ve gained a new appreciation for the importance of simply hearing the Word of God from time-to-time. No comments, no sermons, no impressive hermeneutics.  There’s no gatekeeper, nor intermediary (just the Holy Spirit) between you and the Word.  Arguably, for the majority of believers in history (particularly prior to the printing press), their primary contact with Scriptures has been through listening.  I wonder if we don’t perform a disservice to our church members when we give them a 20-minute sermon on a single verse of Scripture.  That’s especially true in this Nigerien context when even believers (let alone non-believers) have limited familiarity with God’s Word.   I’m not at all trying to minimize the importance of reading or preaching or teaching the Word, but rather I’m convinced we should ALSO find more time to listen to the unadulterated Word of God in our personal and corporate spiritual lives.  Indeed, many biblical texts were meant to be shared out-loud in oral cultures.

As an RCA Missionary who has hosted dozens of volunteers in the mission field, I know that these critiques carry a great deal of merit in the global mission community and they should be taken seriously.  When folks ask me if they reflect my experience, though, I always reply “No.”  My primary rationale is that because Niger is a hot, dusty, poor, non-English speaking country that is expensive to visit and possesses few easily-accessible tourist sites, it simply doesn’t attract the kind of volunteer who often frequents short-term trips in more agreeable settings.  Lupton notes, in comparison, that churches in the Bahamas receive 1 volunteer for every 15 residents in those tropical islands!

We just don’t get that many visitors in Niger. I have supporting churches that send STM teams all over the world, but only a few have ever approached me about bringing a group to Niger.  Those volunteers that we do get are generally quite conscientious of how little they know about the place.  Most come with a willingness to serve and participate as local Christians and the missionaries best see fit.  Of course, we RCA missionaries (there are 2 couples in Niger) try to coordinate with team leaders and explain our context and work with the volunteers to shape the likely program before they ever arrive.  Our groups tend to be small in number—5 might be the average—as we know that most of the time we can’t successfully handle the logistics for many more than that.

I’d like to share a short-term mission story that I think Lupton and others would embrace as the kind of volunteer successes that we need to encourage because it combines the generous gifts of time and money (travel funds) with a committed personal investment toward productive change:

In 2003 Greg decided to participate in a STM “work” trip because his cousin, an RCA church member, had invited him to come along to get his mind off his problems.  Greg, who isn’t in the RCA, had a difficult previous year in which his adopted son had committed suicide. Events spiraled to the point that Greg and his wife briefly separating over the resulting grief and incriminations surrounding their son’s death.  Greg needed to get away and the plan for the work trip was simple: to pour a cement foundation and to anchor the support structure of a new Bible school classroom building.  Although Greg worked as a professional physical therapist (PT), he intended to do manual labor like the other members.

As the host of the mission team, it didn’t seem right to me for Greg to work up a sweat doing things that others could do better (especially most Nigeriens) when there was a leprosy hospital 2 km from the work site that had long-term disabled patients.  I arranged for Greg to visit the hospital and a dotty, self-proclaimed rehabilitation missionary nurse (yes, she had no training in PT, but thought someone should be doing the work) of English origin welcomed Greg with open arms.  Soon he had seen several difficult cases and was providing hope and care to those who had long suffered with physical ailments that medicine alone couldn’t cure.

Greg and I talked during this time and I suggested to him that maybe God was calling Greg to conduct physical therapy in Niger.  These words resonated with Greg, as unbeknownst to me he was adjunct faculty with the University of Minnesota’s Department of Physical Therapy.  Less then two years later, Greg came back to Niger to learn more about physical therapy training in the country.  He discovered that, in effect, there was no program to prepare Nigeriens to do what he did.  Even in the country’s only university-level medical school, few of the professors and medical doctors had ever been exposed to the field of physical therapy.  Most Nigerien patients in need of PT simply had no other choice but to manage their pain through medicine or to accept the permanent loss of function.

 Greg, with the assistance of our Nigerien church partners who acted as intermediaries, made the necessary arrangements with his University of Minnesota colleagues and with Abdou Moumouni University officials to introduce the first ever intensive PT course to Niger’s future doctors.  Many current faculty also sat in on the lectures.  The response was overwhelmingly favorable.  With the coordination of newly-arrived RCA missionary doctor, Susan Beebout, the PT course gained a permanent place in the medical school’s curriculum.  Greg and his Minnesota colleagues have since returned to Niger each year to teach and have also brought U of M students along for their final clinicals in international PT.  

 Because of Greg’s sense of calling to offer his PT skills to God in Niger, the appreciation for physical therapy has grown to the point where the Nigerien university is seeking to launch a full-time PT program.  To assist the effort, the RCA is now recruiting for a missionary therapist to come and teach in the nascent program.  Soon thousands of Nigeriens will be benefitting from physical therapy treatments and a new class of medical professionals will be created for this poor country!

All of this came about because one guy agreed to come on a short-term mission trip to pour cement—a job almost any healthy Nigerien man could have done.  Now, I know this kind of story is an exception to what occurs on most STMs’ experiences.  This positive outcome wouldn’t have happened if someone (in this case, me) hadn’t pulled Greg off the cement detail and put him in a setting where his real gifts in PT could be used.  So, let us not simply write-off short-term missions because too many STM experiences are often poorly conceived and executed.  Rather, let’s do a better job of discerning how God can use us in STM settings.

There’s one particular satellite positioned over Africa that carries 50 (YES 5-0!) separate full-time Christian stations.  These programs originate from African countries such as Congo, Ethiopia, Ivory Coast, Nigeria, South Africa, Uganda and Zambia, as well as from Brazil, South Korea, the U.K. and the U.S.A.  In some cases, the whole station is owned and operated by an African mega-church (such as you can find in Lagos or Kinshasa). While the majority of the shows are in English, you can also find French and Portuguese programs, with some sub-titling shows in a second language to broaden further their potential audience.  These stations have names such as “Love World”, “Emmanuel”, “Chosen”, “Dove”, “3 Angels”, “Hosanna” and “Olive”, among other faith-inspired monikers.  

While their content has a mix of preaching, teaching, Gospel singing and even some family-oriented programming that was produced in the West, their most popular shows are clearly broadcasts of deliverance and healing services.  Whether shot in a church sanctuary, a large tent or an open field, these programs are built around a personality who promises that he or she will deliver people from the bondage of illness or demonization.  With thousands of African congregants watching, praying and/or praise singing, the healer will call for those who are blind, deaf, lame or spirit-possessed to come forward.  Sometimes the personality will interview the supplicant to learn more of their troubles (and even talk to the offending spirit), sometimes the person will walk around and touch the distressed while praying (and the afflicted usually collapse from being “slain in the Spirit) and at other times, the preacher simply stays at the pulpit and orders healing in the name of Jesus.   The announcers promise miracles and the camera shows person after person being healed and praising God.  

Generally, these stations tend to promote a prosperity Gospel message and constantly link faith with material success.  Alternatively, one could argue that the shows demonstrate how living outside of Christ results in sickness, poverty, missed opportunities/lack of advancement, broken homes, stress and spiritual bondage.  Several programs, though, usually make a point of broadcasting how their ministries are helping their viewers and supporters by presenting unsuspecting followers with bags of food, new motorcycles (and the like) or envelopes of cash to attend a university or to pay a hospital bill after they have written the show with their prayer requests.  As you can imagine, such gestures catch the attention of many Africans. 

These satellite programs are clearly not your grandparents’ Christianity.  Rather than showing a Christian faith based on quiet worship and submission, they project a vigorous and vibrant Christianity where Jesus triumphs over spirits, illnesses, trials and oppression.  The latest technologies using computer generated graphics and presentation software display a modernity one wouldn’t expect to find in the poor shanty towns of Africa, emphasizing that this is a faith for today..  Without question, these shows are playing an important role in Christianity’s growth in Africa, as local pastors and churches are following the substance and style of these TV presentations.  This is a Christianity that resonates with many Africans as it addresses their basic needs and their spiritual understanding much better than the Western import did two or three generations ago.

What may surprise you the most, however, is that these African ministries are branching into Europe, North America, South America and Asia.  They tap into the African immigrant base that already resides in these foreign lands, but they are also drawing the local populations, too.  Their broadcasts that originate in England or the U.S. show plenty of non-African faces in their audience pans.  Whether these African television presentations are reaching new believers or convincing existing Christians to follow them, I can’t say, but their formats are certainly disrupting the “old time religion”.