The Nature of Successful Missions

The Christian church is as diverse as humanity itself. What starts off as a single ‘Church’ can subsequently be seen as ‘The Roman Catholic Church’ and ‘Protestants’, which can further be seen as even more diverse until the point that you can end up with over 33,000 separate Christian groups (according to The World Christian Encyclopaedia, 2000 ed.). It can be viewed like a family tree, with all its many offshoots that still come under one overall family crest. This point is often lamented on, but it should not be, as Christianity, in its most truest of senses (that is, as it is represented in the New Testament), not a religion (that is, a system of human thought in reference to a higher entity), but a relationship. As such, some diversity is welcome, as “Conformatism [sic] is the essence of a dictatorship, not a relationship.” Just as long as one maintains the core of Christianity, they can be called Christian (a loaded statement, I know).

In scripture Paul speaks about this diversity when he calls the global church “The Body of Christ” (1 Corinthians 12:12-14).

“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body— Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

For the body does not consist of one member but of many.”

So despite the diversity, the Church can be seen as one single entity, one single family.

One thing that I contend every Christian should agree with is that the aim of the Church is to further the gospel message. To understand the nature of successful missions we must understand our differences, even embrace them, but we must all work together.

Thailand: A Case Study

Take a look at Thailand. Freedom of Religion has existed in Thailand for the better part of 200 years, and yet after all this time, Christians make up less than 1% of the population. Strange, considering that Chiang Mai, the second largest city in Thailand, reportedly has at any one time the highest concentration of Christian missionaries in the world. To begin to see why this is though, I think it is necessary to group mission work into two categories. Proselytising, and Community work.

Proselytising is what people usually think of when they think of mission work. Missionaries go through a place, preaching the gospel and (hopefully) winning converts. Some people see this as the primary, if not the only purpose of missionaries, as Christ did indeed command to go out to all the nations preaching the good news (Matthew 28:16-20).

Community work, on the other hand, is what people usually consider the work of NGOs. People who perform community projects to raise the standard of living for a people group. Whether it be teaching them how to farm, teaching them principles for self sufficiency, medical work, feeding the people, etc.

Often people will err towards one side or the other. Proselytisers will caution not to mix proselytising with community work as they don’t want to create ‘Rice Christians’ (that is, people who will ‘convert’ simply for a meal), and community workers will caution not to openly proselytise because they don’t want to be seen as pressuring people to convert in return for their help.

Successful missions however, needs both.

Understanding the lost around us

A few weeks ago I was visiting the house of an ethnic family near the border to Myanmar. The father was out working, and the mother was there with her four children. Their house, made of metal sheets and bits of old wood with rusted nails poking out everywhere, consisted of one bedroom smaller than the cab of a passenger car, and a similar sized kitchen. There was a single stove in the kitchen, no running water or sanitation to be seen, and only later when looking at photos did I notice the buckets sitting outside for them to bathe out in the open. While there, one of the children was hungry and dished himself up some of the only food they had, a bit of rice with some white sugar added for flavour. Popping my head in the bedroom, which had only the comfort of a straw mat on the floor, I noticed a poster of Buddha hanging up on the wall.

This prompted my thinking. How would one reach this woman?

You see, Buddhism was born out of a realisation that life sucks. The Buddha, before he was called as such, was a prince. Over the course of a few nights he snuck out of the palace to see the world beyond his throne. Seeing the great human suffering that was going on beyond his bubble he sat under a tree until he was enlightened. His solution was to rid yourself of all attachment, as attachment brings about pain. But by escaping this attachment one could escape reality. One could cease to exist, one could be free from suffering.

Christ came from a similar perspective. He, as God, saw that life sucked, and came to rectify that. That is the good news of the gospel, the great role reversal. Those who are poor shall become rich, those who are weak shall be made strong, those who mourn shall be comforted. “He will wipe away every tear.” One can be free from suffering, but not through a spiritual death, but through real life.

If we stop there, the answer is clear. Proselytise. Go forth and preach the good news. Comfort the weary with this hope. But we shouldn’t stop there, and, I think you will see, Christ did not stop there.

Lets pretend you are a missionary, and I am a member of that family. There are so many verses that you might consider sharing with me, but lets go with the Baseball favourite: John 3:16.

You say: “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but shall have everlasting life.”

I think: “What??? Life is hard, life is suffering. Who is this God who loves a world that is full of such pain, and who hates me so much that He won’t let me escape it? Why won’t He let me perish???? Aha, but you’re saying that if I DON’T believe, I WILL perish???”

See where this is going? You have to meet people where they are at.

So, lets try the alternate route. Lets try some community work.

We’ll use the same family from before as a reference point. Various work has been done, they have more food than they need (actually, we were there to deliver a 3 months supply of baby formula to the mother), they have moved to a nice little house, they grow their own food and sell the surplus, the kids have more clothes than they can wear, and they even now have a bank account so that they can save for their children’s future education. Every day they are thrilled that they must have led a good life in their previous incarnation, and karma has finally rewarded them. They live a long life, and they never know God. They do not go to heaven, they are not reincarnated. No, this solution is short sighted, catering not to their eternal life, only to their temporal existence (not to mention they still live in fear of the spirit down the road).

So, what must be done? Both, actually.

Christ the Everyman

When Christ was on this earth, He did not just walk around proclaiming to people the good news. He met with them. He ate with them. He healed them, He helped them, He rescued them. He was filled with compassion for them, He died for them. He didn’t simply care for their eternity, He cared for them then and there, wherever they were. To the blind man He did not say “there will come a time in 30 years after you die that you will be able to see.” He said “open your eyes.” He did not say to the lame “not to worry, you will have new legs in heaven!” He said “stand, pick up your mat, and walk home.”

And of course, He was equally interested in their eternity. He preached to the poor and downtrodden of a great role reversal, a new Earth, a redemption from sin, all culminating in His final words before death upon the cross, “It is finished.”

In order for us to successfully reach a people, we must go to where they are at, not where we want them to be. Eternal life is not a thrilling concept to a person who sees only suffering from it, but to a person who sees the seeds of that life and its blessings, it can be all that one desires.

So, to proselytise without community work, is quite often impotent, but to perform community work without proselytising is short sighted. Both are essential for successful missions.

The Body of Christ

“But, Michael”, you ask, “I am just one man, I cannot meet all of these needs, I can not do everything you ask, that is why I have chosen my focus!” I know. But you are forgetting something, you hand, you have a foot that you can work with! “Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function” (Romans 12:4). We, the church, are the body of Christ. A foot cannot punch, but a hand can. A hand cannot speak, but a mouth can. The key is cooperation.

In my short time in missions I have noticed something unfortunate. A lot of missionaries and differing agencies are not willing to work in tandem. Visiting a ministry a while ago, when it became clear to the person running it that I had not showed up to volunteer, but to introduce myself for potential future cooperation (and awareness, as if my ministry crosses over into what they have set up, I would rather build off of their experience), this person’s expression grew bleak. They suddenly lost all interest. When talking my meeting over with a person the following day, they could not understand why I would want to meet them, and not instantly volunteer. They saw it almost as if I was intentionally wasting somebody’s time. I lament this fact. As what we all seek is the progression of the gospel, and for that to happen we must work together.

Contrast that to the Australians I met a few weeks ago. They have a clear focus in mind: The progression of the gospel, and are willing to help anyone so that we can fulfil that goal. They have no qualms with their workers working with other ministries. In fact, if I was to be under their leadership and wanting to focus my efforts on a certain task, they would stop me from going at it alone if there was already someone else working towards that. While there is never any assurance that I would be able to manage a working partnership with the other person, I would at least have to explore that option.

Bernard of Chartres said in the twelfth century: “We are but Dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants.” Successful missions recognises this fact, and those 33,000 plus separate Christian groups must come together as that one body we call the Church in order to reach the lost of this world.

Home

I’m back home. No not, Australia, but Chiang Mai. Tak was a good, and well needed rest, but I can’t bear to sit still for too long. The first day of doing nothing was great. Time to think is a luxury. But I can’t bear to sit still too long and by day two or three I was ready to get back to work. I guess it makes a difference when your work is a defining point of your life.

It was nice being in Tak again, and seeing old friends. Since I left some things have changed. There are now even fewer white people in Tak, and the few that are there are, to put it bluntly, old. It can be a bit of a pain sometimes, as people assume that I’m their offspring, because, you know, all of us whites look alike! But being the lone ranger can always boost your self esteem. Travelling around of course, men are usually content with staring and smiling (sometimes no smiling though), while women and children get all giddy and say hello.

As my birthday is coming up, my friends in Tak gave me a present this morning. To be honest, it is the perfect gift. There was no “what do you want for your birthday?”, just thoughtfulness. That’s all there is to the perfect gift, I think, thoughtfulness. And they got me a unique gift. Have a look.

It’s a plaque that goes on my bedroom door and says: “Michael”.

When I woke up this morning, I had to pack and go to an ATM to take out money for the bus, and to pay for my stay. On the way it began to rain, and when I put my card into the ATM it froze and ate my card. Staring at the machine blankly, I called the number on it, could hardly hear a thing, so called my friend. While on the phone to her the machine regurgitated my card, so I went looking for a more reliable machine. After waiting a while for the rain to stop, it calmed down to a drizzle, so I headed out. Soon I began to feel that my back was slowly being drenched, and reaching back I found it was covered in mud. The bike, you see, lacked any sort of mud guards. So riding around, covered in goop, I found the ATM. Already 20 minutes late for church, I couldn’t go like I was, so went back to the centre to bathe and change. By the time I reached church it was half way through, but I didn’t understand any of the second half anyway.

After church I saw a few of my old students, and, armed with my increased Thai ability, began to tease them. “I know you missed me! Don’t cry when I’m gone, ok?” I’d say. “We won’t!” They’d reply. “Why do you lie? It’s ok!” I assured them. At this point they began to smack me, while I repeated “don’t cry!” amidst impersonations of them crying “Don’t leave, Michael!”

After this, it was back to the centre to pick up my bags, then off to the bus station. I noticed the ticket was quite cheap, half the price of what I’ve paid to go similar distances, but I thought nothing of it. But then, when I got to the bus, I quickly found out why it was so cheap. Sitting on the floor in the luggage compartment, huddled together with a group of Thais, some of whom would casually fart and avoid eye contact to defer suspicion, I found out why I had just paid half of what I have before. 3 hours in, my backside was dead, and we stopped for a toilet break. I took my opportunity, and I stole some white guy’s seat. Let the good times roll!

When I got home the kids were playing games, and, greeting me with the level of enthusiasm that I’d expect from my family, they said the equivalent of “oh, you’re back! …” I went to collect my motorbike, which I had left at the girls house while I was away, and road the mighty beast down the street and home. Oh, how I missed that bike. I so under appreciated it before. Coming back to it though, and travelling at more than 20km/h, I felt the power!

The kids enthusiastic greeting was made up for though. Boat told me “when you were gone I cried because I missed you.” Gets me… right here (points to heart)… you know? And the night was finished with fireworks. My hearing is starting to return too!

Just what one has come to expect of me…

Those of you who know me should know that I have an uncanny ability to bring mayhem wherever I go. Words… they don’t describe…

So. Yesterday morning I got a phone call from Mae Sot. Each child took a turn talking to me, asking the same question (“what are you doing?”). It was nice. Apparently someone came up from Bangkok that morning and the kids, for some reason, thought that it was me. Then, rushing out excited, met the visitors with sour faces. “Your not P’Michael!” Now my ego is back up again after showing you that picture…

Return to Tak

Well, we left Mae Sot early this morning. The kids weren’t entirely thrilled to see us go, but all good things must come to an end. It’s funny, thinking about it, just how far I have gone and haven’t yet crashed. Someone must be steering this thing. I’m planning on returning again next month to see more of the work. They are doing really good things down there, and I’m sure that there is room for me. We’ll see what happens.

Right now I am in Tak, having been dropped off by Sangwan and co on their way back to Chiang Mai. The hour or so drive must have been doubled, what with Sangwan’s love of stopping at every roadside market she sees along the way. But eventually, we made it, and not a second too soon, as I was busting to go to the loo!

When I got here I had lunch with old friends: Ek & Daa, then went to my old student’s house and got my hair cut and beard shaved. Man what a difference that makes! Seeing my old student was nice. Once finished, I was picked up and taken to the Korean family’s house before going off to dinner. It was funny. Things have changed in the past few months. The girls wouldn’t come down to say hello, but made enough noise to let me know that they were there. The parents told me that it was because the older one has reached adolescence, and is starting to like boys, so, no longer seeing me as a punching bag, but as a stallion, was shy. Enough to give me a smirk that would last all through dinner, anyway.

It’s nice to be back in Tak. I actually miss it here to be honest. It feels peaceful, relaxing. Maybe my holiday destination, no?

Oh well, time to watch TV…

Looking back on: Monday October 19, 2009

“I got the poo on me!” I thought it strange that a quote from a terrible teenage-boy movie would spring to my mind this morning; little did I realize that it would prove to be oddly prophetic.

This morning we went to take a few months worth of baby formula to a mother outside of town. We stopped outside what looked like an abandoned run down building, and walked around the side through something similar to the swamp from The Lord of the Rings (the one that Samwise comments smells like a ‘bog’). To help us to not sink into the steamy abyss, there were conveniently placed stepping stones which were both extremely slippery, and semi-immersed. Halfway there was conveniently placed a bit of a well for people to wash their feet with before crossing the second half.

Just as treacherous on the way back!

We finally reached the end and walked up a bit of a slope to a small shack. It was poverty; a two room (rooms not even as big as a double size bed) shack put together with bits of old fence and tin roof. Looking around, noticeably absent was a toilet, which, in a country that often uses the same real estate for the toilet and shower, means that a shower was noticeably absent also. There was no electricity hook up, no running water that I could see, and rubbish littering the place. Rusty nails poked out of everything, and living there was a mother, father, and four young boys.

One of the boys had something to eat while we were there, rice with sugar on top, and the only other food to be seen was two dragon fruits.

It’s hard to look at it all without showing some sort of sympathy, especially when one is used to seeing such affluence, however think if you were in hospital or some such, and everyone who came to see you just looked sad. You have to smile while being there, sharing your joy and keeping from them your sadness, and more than anything, you have to enjoy the people.

Hanging up in the bedroom was a picture of Buddha, which made me think. Buddhism has a stronghold over this country because for a lot of people, things are crap, and Buddhism is in response to that. Buddhism presents an escape from the suffering, escape through what is, fundamentally, spiritual euthanasia. One would think that the good news of Christ would have made more inroads in the 100 plus years that it has been in the country, but all we have to show is about 1% Christian.

The problem I think may be this. Some people look at the situation as people are spiritually poor, and need Jesus. That is true, but Christianity at that face value only gets in the way of people escaping from their suffering. If Buddhism sees things as crap, and offers an escape, then Christianity looks like it will stop them from escaping. Christianity offers eternal life, which is precisely what a Buddhist is trying to escape.

Sure, you don’t want to create rice Christians, but a rice Christian may be better than a not-Christian. A person’s eternity might be of great importance, but to them, the here and now is of even greater importance, especially when coming from a Buddhist mindset. So in this context, preaching the gospel without helping the people is preaching a dead gospel. Church planting without social justice is impotent.

Maybe another time though.

After seeing the mother and her sons, we returned home and the kids had their lunch. Sangwan and I then went to eat foreign food at a nearby restaurant before heading out to another one of Compasio’s ministries.

This ministry is in the centre of the local wet market and seems to outreach to working children. I must repent, when I first saw the boys there I initially thought they looked like punks, especially the one with the bandana and basketball jersey. Maybe I was right, but they were good kids. We cleaned the lot next door, which was full of rubbish, and I noticed an animal had been their recently, what with the fresh steaming pile of crap. When we finished, I looked down and saw on my hand what looked like poo. Then, letting out a bit of a scream, my attention was pointed to my shorts, which had what looked like a LOT of poo. Now that I’ve successfully ruined my chances with any girl who reads this, we can continue. Trying to wash it off, the boy with the bandana and basketball jersey came and really helped me, not caring that it was poo that he was helping to wash off. Sangwan helped too… for a moment, then went off to play and laugh at me. Then I was told off for wasting water. What a day, huh?

At night we went to the same oval we’ve been the past few nights for a run around. Suddenly the kids were telling me “don’t go home tomorrow”, and trying to bargain with me “stay for just…. just 1 month”. That’s fair enough, eh? But I think I’ll come back… no, I will come back. There is more for me to see.