A conversation with God about my vocation

Hello God.

Hello Son.

I have a problem.

Go ahead.

I don’t think I can be a linguist.

Hm. I thought you liked linguistics.

Yes, I do, but I think I have to give it up.

Why is that?

Well, I’m not sure it matters. It’s not ultimately important. I want to live my life for what really matters most. I don’t want to waste my life, not a minute.

And what is it that matters most?

Your Kingdom, God. Your Kingdom is the only thing that is going to survive this life. Everything else will be burned up! I want to receive a reward for building into the eternal kingdom, not an earthly one. I want to construct my life around the pursuit of souls, not salary. You know, leave my nets and be a “fisher of men.”

Thank you! But, why does this mean you have to give up linguistics?

Linguistics is my version of Peter and James’ fishing. It’s an earthly occupation that I have to sacrifice in order to follow you with my whole life. I mean, I could still do it to pay the bills—maybe, it wouldn’t be the most efficient—but I should do it “as if I’m not doing it” like Paul says—my heart and focus should be on reaching the lost. It’s not like any research I do on language learning is going to be useful in heaven; the only thing that will matter is whether souls received your hand of grace or not.

What about what John Piper’s sermon said about how you can bring glory by working with excellence?

Funny you should mention that, I was just thinking about it.

I know.

Well, that means that I work so that people see my excellence and give you glory because they know I’m a Christian, right? And to really be a linguist, I mean a halfway decent one that I would feel proud of being, I would have to put a lot of energy and life into it just as a field in itself, maybe work that people wouldn’t notice or appreciate. We’re talking countless hours reading, theorizing, researching, writing, publishing. Lots of people are good at linguistics—I’m not a genious, and I’m not sure that every paper I write is going to make people go, “Whoah, you’re a genius, you must be inspired by God, tell me about your beliefs!”

So you’re not sure that people will necessarily adore me because they see your work ethic.

Right, I mean, it seems like a stretch. Lots of non-Christians are really good at their jobs. I know I can hold my own and earn respect but that’s about it.

Well, what about them? You can invite your colleagues to dinner and such. You know, develop relationships through your job and seek the Kingdom in those.

Yeah, that’s good. That’s good…

What is it? You seem hesitant.

What it comes down to is that I don’t just want my job to be a means to an external end. Whether at home or abroad I don’t want to work all day just “so that I can…” fill-in-the-blank, speak into the culture, meet people, show people that I’m a gloriously good worker, etc. It feels duplicitous. I actually want the work I’m doing—the work itself—to mean something. I don’t want to live a meaningless career in order to live meaningful weekends. I can’t give my heart into intellectual pursuits if I think it’s all for naught. I mean, there ARE jobs that are inherently meaningful, outside the church, right?

Indeed, some a great deal more meaningful than those inside it.

Okay, but are any of them meaningful apart from the fact that people notice their excellence or their faith in you?

Absolutely. Some of my favorite people have gone quite unnoticed.

Then how….oh wait, got it. You mean that when we do our work, we’re showing you we have faith by obeying and working hard and trying to abide in you while we do it. So it doesn’t really matter what I do as long as I do it in faith.

That’s right.

Let me get this straight. I do anything that I want, abiding in you, and it can be meaningful and have eternal value?

Yes.

Trash collector?

Yes.

Hermit?

Yes.

Accountant?

Yes.

Salesman??

…Yes.

God I thought I had you with salesman. Okay, fine…so when you say “eternal value” you mean that these jobs are means that can help turn our hearts to you and in that sense, as physical means to spiritual ends, they have eternal value. But nothing of the job itself is valuable.

Who told you that?

Um…you?

I don’t recall saying that. But I do remember that I gave your father Adam the command to fill the earth and subdue it. I told him and his descendants to participate in the making and ruling of the physical world.

But this earth is passing away…

Do you think you alone will be redeemed? The earth also is groaning for redemption. And it’s waiting on you. I am redeeming it through you—you are made in my image to be kings of the earth and to exercise my kingdom over creation, physical and all. Art, music, literature, science, technology, exploration, agriculture, industry, education—these are all ways that you reign as free men, stewards, lords, saviors of the physical world. Of all my creation man alone is both spirit and flesh.

Wow, okay…but…being an accountant might help you bring order to the universe but it can’t be eternal. No one is going to be an accountant in heaven. It’s still not eternal like a soul. There’s no “phonetic analysis of English speakers” in heaven that my research will contribute to.

Who told you that?

Wait! Are you saying there is linguistics in heaven?

There is linguistics that would make earthly linguistics seem like 2^nd grade sentence diagraming.

How is that possible? We will speak in the tongues of men and angels and all that.

It is not possible for you to understand heavenly sciences right now. Your brain would explode, Son. But just ponder the concept of angelic linguistics for a second.

What about accountants? Surely there’s no moneychanging in heaven.

There’s something of which the accounting you’re referring to is but a premonition.

So, how does the linguistics I do on earth end up in heaven? I mean how can my feeble work contribute if there’s already “angelic linguistics”?

It happens in ways you cannot imagine. But trust me, the essence of every work and object that you do will have its existence there. You can say I am one of those parents who puts all of their children’s art on the fridge, and it ends up getting framed later and becoming a really valuable heirloom years later.

That’s like some kind of Egyptian burying-your-gold-so-you-can-take-it-with-you nonsense.

*Sigh.* You moderns are so convinced you know better than the ancients. Well, let’s just say that the Egyptians were onto something but they lacked my truth and power and ended up with a lame imitation.

Okay, wow, really cool—I’ll have to think about that more. But, there’s still something bothering me. You commanded us to make disciples, to be your ambassadors, right? I mean, as much as everything we do day to day might be important, that is the most important because you commanded us to go to the nations and evangelize. “No Plan B” right?—WE are the means you have chosen to reach the world. If we don’t evangelize people will die in their sins. “How can they believe unless someone preaches to them?” You can’t tell me that our reaching the world for Christ—human souls—is not more important than doing other things that glorify you. You love man most of all your creation.

Well, he is the crown jewel of my creation.

Exactly.

But I think you are confused about something.

What?

Well, I did command you to make disciples of all the nations, and I meant it. But it sounds like you are taking responsibility for making it happen.

Well, yeah, God. We’re ambassadors. We’ve got to work on your behalf. We represent you. That’s how you set it up. The way you’ve designed it, we’ve been tasked with preparing the way for your spirit’s work. So we have a responsibility to do that work.

The way you’re describing it, I’m in heaven, and you’re on earth, doing the work.

Well, in the power of your spirit, yes. Your spirit functions through us.

True, but you’re forgetting the other side of the coin. You function through my spirit. In other words, it is my spirit that stirs and acts in you. It’s not your responsibility, it’s mine.

Wait, God, are you taking sides on the whole faith vs. works issue here?

It’s not a question of faith vs. works. It is works of faith. Works of faith are works done by those who work to live out my commands, while also accepting the truth that all of their ability to do so comes from me. My spirit is a power entirely alien to the human soul. It blows where it wishes; you are not responsible for its causes, nor its results. You can only receive and rejoice.

That seems paradoxical. Obey your commands but accept no responsibility?

It is paradoxical. I love paradoxes. Think of it this way: destiny. How many great stories have a hero who has some sort of mysterious destiny?

Quite a lot, actually.

That’s because it’s a real thing. Destiny is when the protagonist has a mission that he must pursue by the sweat of his brow but there’s something greater than him that’s moving him toward it all along. When I command you to make disciples, I’m not so much trying to convey marching orders as to show you your destiny. I never meant for you to take it and run with it. I was trying to say that you would do great things by me, not that you should do great things for me, as if I were sitting up here in heaven waiting for you to fetch the stick and drop it at my feet. My spirit is alive in you, the lamp of your soul going everywhere you go. He will bring about every good work I have intended you to do.

I don’t know, God. When you gave us the command to make disciples of the world it sounded like you were giving us a responsibility to me. I mean, “You shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and Judea and Samaria and even to the ends of the earth…”

“…When the Holy Spirit comes upon you.”

“Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…”

“…and lo I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

You said, “As the father sent me I am sending you.”

And it was then I breathed on the apostles and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

Oh my God, I think you’re right.

I do know the book pretty well.

Well, what about all the great heroes of the faith who have been so sold-out and burdened for the lost and have gone to great lengths for you?

If I wanted them to go to the nations, what is it to you? It was my Spirit that raised them up, and my spirit will raise you up to the things I have planned for you. Don’t compare. I have plenty of great things in store for you, just wait. Don’t worry about being great, just be mine.

It does kind of take the guilt and pressure out of it. I’ll admit I’ve had some.

You are free to pursue every good work, including reaching out to others, with all your might—without the pressure to perform. Trust me, I’ve got this. I’ve got YOU.

Well, *phew*, that’s actually…really relieving, God. Thanks.

You’re welcome.

Okay, so if you’ve “got this” then…well what job do I do? What am I supposed to do? I’ve been focused on that directive for so long.

That’s up to you.

You mean I just do whatever I want?

If you’re abiding in me, yes. Well, almost. I think “drug dealer” is out.

How do I choose?

Pick the one you have the most joy in.

Why joy?

Well, you are free. Joy is the motivation of free people.

How do I know which one I have the most joy in?

Haha, I can’t tell you that. Well, I could, but it’s much better if you figure it out. You’ve got to learn to know yourself. Go crazy, follow your heart! I love to see you happy and fully alive.

Gosh, there’s so much possibility now.

Really does open the world up, doesn’t it?

Hmm.

Go ahead, think for a minute.

God?

Yes, Son?

I think I want to be a linguist.

Vicarious aid, or, On World Vision’s recent decision and the response

For some odd reason, despite myself, and despite (or perhaps because of) the tense, divisive potential energy of the issue, I get most stirred about current events that relate back to (gay) marriage. And there are a lot of them. It’s like watching a great historical shift take place, one event at a time. The last big one was Duck Dynasty, and now we have World Vision. When I am old, I will probably see it all from a distance and remember it as one big shift.

On March 24, World Vision decided to allow the hiring of gay people. After their evangelical constituency dropped support of some 2,000 children within 48 hours, they changed the policy back. Here is a take on the whole goings on. It is quite biased and polemic, but I chose it because it sums up the feelings of many people regarding the issue, including many members of the Church, including some people in my church.

There is some real, honest angst against the evangelical bloc in these young Christians’ hearts, for good reason: they can’t understand why you would make a little child suffer, make them a victim it the culture war you are waging against the gay agenda. They can’t understand why you would pull your support from “the least of these” because you find it more important to protest a gay person joining in your support of those poor children.

I affirm wholeheartedly that the sympathy towards those poor children is justified. They are indeed victims and their well-being must be prized above all. Yet, I will admit, before World Vision recanted, I was seriously considering pulling my support and giving it to another humanitarian organization. (N.B. I do not sponsor a child directly, I support general funds at World Vision.) I was probably going to do it. How on earth could I do such a thing? The question, the heart-cry of my generation, demands an answer. Indeed, were they not crying out, my own heart would demand answer: it is a matter of resolving the cognitive dissonance in my own mind and aligning my heart and mind on the subject. So let me undertake here to explain to myself and my generation the truth that I hope and believe is not in opposition to love, but that mingles with it necessarily to create that divine balance we are called to speak.

As I do so, by the way, I would like to point out that I have moved away from association with evangelicalism, for some reasons that bear at least external resemblance to those listed by Rachel Held Evans, and for some quite different ones. Therefore I would ask not be considered as a spokesperson for evangelicalism here, and to be given freedom from association with the good deal of baggage that the evangelical bloc brings to this issue. Listen to me as a millenial follower of Jesus who is struggling to make sense and harmony of his life- and ego-shattering teachings.

–

So. I believe that my intended withdrawal of my funds from World Vision is not in opposition to my care and concern for those poor children. In fact, I believe deeply that it is because I hold a very great concern for them that I intended to withdraw my funds. Follow me:

First premise: True aid is always personal. The aid is devoid of its deepest meaning in absence of the personal context through which it is delivered. That’s why aid to Africa is often abused–give a man food impersonally, and he’ll stash it and steal his neighbor’s. Teach a man generosity by example, and he will, with God’s help, become a generous man. To truly aid someone, I must give them myself, not my money or my food.

So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us. (1 Thess 2:8)

Jesus did not send a message, but came to us Himself. Perhaps he knew that we needed his aid, not “aid” in abstract. As Marshall McLuhan said, “the medium is the message.” The people are the aid.

Second premise: In big aid organizations like World Vision the sponsors are not the ones personally giving the aid. Let’s face it: the connection that a sponsor in America has with that child in Bangladesh is vicarious, ephemeral, and superficial. Sure, you wrote them a note and they drew you a picture. But they think of you sort of like Santa Claus, not like a father or mother. Have you ever hugged them, or picked them up, or heard their voice? Have you really experienced their situation, met their caregiver, seen their school, walked between their house and the well that World Vision built to get water? Sponsoring a child through World Vision cannot be said to be truly aiding them, but rather to be sponsoring someone else to aid them. In large organizations like World Vision, the American sponsors have outsourced charity (in the old sense, meaning love) and been left with mere charity (in the new sense, meaning money). Even if true charity is done with our money, it is not we who do it in the fullest sense. I think that’s why World Vision lets you sponsor a child and get pictures of them, etc.– we want to feel a semblance of the personal connection we know must be there. Am I saying that sponsoring a child is bad? By no means! It just shouldn’t be confused with charity in the fullest sense. It’s good, but it only a part of the good that ought to be given, because the real ministry, the ultimate consummation of the aid, comes through the actual hands and feet that lovingly deliver that food and water, or teach in that dirt-floored one-room elementary school. For better or worse, we are doing only half of the ministry, and trusting those people we are paying to do the other half.

Third premise: The aid that we are called to give is aid in the name of Jesus. Aid apart from the name of Jesus is good, but it is less good, because aid in the name of Jesus has the ability not only to fill bellies or give people education, but to change the whole person–to bring not only water for the throat but the wellspring of living water, which, if you drink it, you will never thirst again. When I say “aid in the name of Jesus” I don’t mean aid from an organization that is branded as Christian, or is a politically or culturally “Christian” organization. I don’t mean sending children to Christian schools, per se. What I mean is that the Holy Spirit of Jesus, indwelling the body of a believer, ministers the food or water or health checkup to the child. In other words, there is something holy and importantly different when an anointed peasant-priest of God pours the cup of water, then looks into the eyes of that child and says, “God loves you, little girl.” It is almost an illocutionary act that changes reality, like when the pastor says, “I pronounce you husband and wife.” Bob Hitching said in a blog post on April 2 that he “would put serving the poor in the list of sacraments.” Therefore, it is crucial that the person giving the aid be a true believer.

Now, if you are giving aid yourself, that is pretty straightforward. You must have faith in God to be present with his sacramental power in your acts of love. However, if you are just supporting an aid organization, the situation is a bit different. You must have reason to trust the people you are giving money to, that they are true believers. That would be best done by personally knowing the people you are giving money to. We support our friends who are going to Africa because we trust them, because they are our friends and we know their hearts. However, let’s make the practical assumption that I cannot always personally know the people I am supporting or giving aid money to, i.e. I am giving to a big organization. This is the least desirable, perhaps, but necessary at times. In this case, I must vet that organization thoroughly and be super-cautious! What is their fiscal process like? What is their leadership climate? What is the heart of their employees? What are the conditions in the poor region I am funding? I think giving aid to an organization, if I must, demands, rightly, very high expectations for their alignment with the Church and my convictions. The aid is quintessentially the people (premise 1), and the people are those looking the kids in the eye as much as me who buys the food (premise 2), and true aid must be done in the name of Jesus by his holy servants (premise 3). Therefore, if I don’t trust people to be those holy servants, I shouldn’t support the organization. Truly caring about those children — caring about the whole child, body and soul — means that I must find trustworthy personal conduits of the holy spirit to deliver my aid.

The last piece of the puzzle is whether an organization that allows gay people to work there (whether “on the ground” or in administration is irrelevant) can be trusted to deliver true aid as true believers. I won’t go into this, but suffice it to say that I believe it cannot.

I don’t think Christians are in the either-or situation that people threaten them with, because there are no shortage of trustworthy ways to give aid (myself and vicariously), so I don’t have to choose between helping the poor at all and choosing ways to help that are in line with my beliefs.

These thoughts also open up further questions about whether I should devote more of my resources to serving personally instead of supporting through (any) organization. Hm. At least, they seem to resolve the issue with World Vision.

Mission trips are not the mission field

I have been struggling with the effectiveness of the current evangelical practice of short-term mission trips. For one, career missionaries have told me (one personally, one to a group of missionaries-in-training) that short-term teams frequently “leave a mess”, a mess of sloppy cultural behavior that the more adapted missionary has to clean up in their wake. I will add that it is nearly impossible to assimilate into a culture in one week, so short-term teams moving through a village with their backpacks and Chacos and coolers frequently appear to be just a big western spectacle to the locals. The good news is preached, to be sure, but it carries a lot of baggage.

Neither do I think that short-term missions is particularly cost-effective. Honestly, why do we spend $20,000 in airfare, lodging etc. for a team of 10 college students to go to a foreign country where they need translators to say anything except “hello” or “very good”, so that they can run a VBS and teach the kids Christian sing-a-longs for 5 days? Run a VBS near your city, and give $20,000 to feed and clothe the poor in the foreign country.

Now, if it’s true that short-term teams are not the most effective way to communicate the gospel directly to locals, what is the purpose of short-term teams? In an extension of some previous thoughts, I am not suggesting that we abolish the practice, but I think the function of short-term missions should be re-envisioned.

My international short-term experience in Romania and the Philippines has shown me two things. First, the most lasting memories and spiritual growth are a result of relationships with fellow team members, such as team leaders, crew members, both Christian and non-Christian translators, and the host missionaries. The main impact does not derive from the village families whose homes you visit once or twice, but from the believing locals with whom you visit them. It was our young, soccer-playing Christian brothers with whom we wept at the end of our week, for we had all been encouraged by the other’s presence. “There are other believers, on the other side of the world, who believe just what I believe, hope in the same cross, and are enduring the same struggles.” This camaraderie produced a heart-penetrating encouragement that is often the most lingering and powerful result of a short-term mission trip.

Second, at the end of every mission trip debrief I have experienced, someone observes, to a room of nodding heads and “amen”s, that everything they did during that trip is exactly what they can and should be doing in their daily lives back home. My brother strongly affirmed this after nine months in Russia. Inevitably, the travelers realize that there is no dichotomy between “there” and “here” in how they should live their lives. It just takes them going overseas to bust the illusion. Great attention is being given these days to “missional living” and the fact that “you are a missionary wherever you are, whatever you do.” (Cf. the new vision shift of major missionary sending organization Crossworld.)

Here’s what I’m getting at: Short-term mission trips are training for missions. The other 51 weeks of the year are the mission field. (Not the other way around.)

Training is where a group of people with the same goal retreat to a place where they can focus and get a fresh perspective, so they can learn how to accomplish that goal. Training involves leaders casting a vision and guiding the practice of action steps needed to make it happen, in a controlled environment. At the end of training, the trainees are disbursed to go accomplish the tasks on their own, with less structured supervision.

That paragraph describes short-term missions. You retreat to another environment. You are surrounded by likeminded, passionate individuals, lead by visionary leaders. You practice skills together. Then you return home with your eyes opened to “what it’s like to live missionally.”

The other 51 weeks are where you are immersed in an environment where you are already enculturated among a people group. You have (unless you are a church worker) a natural network of friends and acquaintances who do not know Jesus. You can speak into people with real sincerity of relationship. Your actions can easily resemble those of career missionaries: establishing study groups and home groups that talk about the Bible, extending hospitality to coworkers and neighborhoods, developing relationships, and keeping your ears open for the hurt and the seeking as you go about in your community. In short, the ideal mission field.

So, in a real sense, what we have long considered the mission field is really a training session, and what we have considered an irrelevant missionless zone, 355 days of the year, is the field “ripe for harvest” that such training prepares us for. Short-term mission trips are good, but they are not the end, they are the means. They are the pre-game, the warm-up, the new job orientation. Until missional living gets deep into the DNA of our lifestyles, we will not see the gospel burgeon in our spheres of influence.

Sacred vocations

There is often in the minds of Christians this idea that some people do ministry for a living, and some people do spiritually irrelevant work for a living, and then do ministry on weekends, like teaching Sunday School or going on a service project with church. This dichotomy is unfounded in scripture.

Crossworld’s Dale Losch makes the case that there’s a new wave in missions, a wave powered by lay missionaries, or Christians who carry on families, careers, and lives missionally without being full-time, support-funded, card-carrying professional missionaries. The new missionaries are a wave of Christians who realize that their vocations, their 9-5 jobs, are their sacred calling and mission field. The traditional way of doing missions is on the out, as Crossworld has, to their credit, realized.

Frankly, I’m glad. Why? Because I am an aspiring overseas missionary, but a traditional form of mission doesn’t entirely sit right with me. For one, it’s strange when your buddies come home from work and they ask you what you do and you say, “Well, my 9-5 is…well…I get paid by rich westerners to strategize how to convert you.” For another, as Crossworld also points out, most of the countries in the 10-40 Window, the best target of future missionary efforts, are not friendly toward evangelists. You can’t come there on a missionary visa. But most countries are friendly toward westerners who can bring real societal and economic benefit. So I am unable to be a missionary without being a “tentmaker”. But I don’t think that such an occupation should be a cover, or a front, or a way to sneak in. I think that you have to really want to bring societal and economic improvement, to really care about the people’s culture and commit to becoming a member of it. A missionary should not be duplicitous.

The globalization and modernization of the world means that we have to do life alongside people in unreached cultures, instead of treating them like projects or savages. It requires a new kind of international integration. And that’s the kind of life that sounds exciting to me – developing genuine, natural, real, deep friendships with people in other cultures. Being a friend to sinners, the only friend who bears Christ in his heart, perhaps. I can be the new kind of missionary. In fact, I plan to.

Not in persuasive words of wisdom

This post is a stub, a question I’m asking myself, not an answer. Paul says the following in 1 Corinthians 2:

And when I came to you, brethren, I did not come with superiority of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.

What does Paul mean? What is the role of rhetoric in the proclamation of the Gospel? “Persuasive words of wisdom” are something I’m passionate about. Do I need to settle for a simpler (or more arcane) idea of what it means to apologize the gospel? Or what kind of attitude is Paul decrying here?

Hmm….

Who are international short-term missions trips for?

At a retreat in 2010, I heard some missionaries confess that they didn’t like international short-term teams coming to “help” them – they said that the teams came in and acted in ways that required clean-up by the missionary (without cultural sensitivity and with rash ambitions, for example). This helped form in me a skepticism for the effectiveness of short-term trips. We spend thousands of dollars in travel to go to another country for one short week, a portion of which is orientation, another portion of which is sightseeing, and all of which is impeded by language and culture barriers that require a team of translators etc. And how can you expect to develop relationship channels that lead to life change in one week? Highly inefficient.

And I’ve questioned the typical evangelical motivations for short-term missions too. How much do we go overseas because it’s a fun adventure? Is it tourism with religious banners? Is it simply easier to get psyched up and go love people far away, than it is to work at love with our neighbors day after day? Do we exonerate ourselves from the urgency of living missionally for 51 weeks a year because of we go all the way to the other side of the world for one week?

I just got back from a short term trip to Romania, into which I took the qualms above. I maintain some of them; however, while there, I saw one surprising, strong good that can come from short term missions. The short term team directly helped the Christians more than the pre-Christians. Our primary mission field was to the local believers, the field rep (“missionary”), and each other on the team.

The trip blessed the few local believers. We shared in duel-language worship songs at three Romanian churches, two in Gyspie villages (most of the songs were 10+ years old, like Michael W. Smith’s Awesome God). We exchanged testimonies and reminded each other that we are united in global cause for the Kingdom of God. It was like seeing reinforcements you didn’t expect from some foreign battlefield come and stand beside you and say, “We’ve got your back!” We got to see young people in Gypsie villages who were more excited about reading their Bibles than we were. They got to see people who would pay time and money to come to a more remote part of the world for the sake of the Gospel.

The trip also blessed the missionary. As a missionary you are a mature “hand” of the body that agrees to live on an extremity and receive less of the blood flow of community. You are subject to getting beat up and worn out because you, a hand, are sticking yourself into the kingdom of darkness more than, say, the shoulder or spleen. When we came we allowed him to identify with believers from his home culture, worship with us, take off his “ministry armor” for a bit and fellowship. Even the work we did in the Gypsie villages was more a help to the missionary than the people directly. Yes, we worked directly with the lost – we did medical visits and children’s activities. Yet this work was supplementary, support work that our field rep had been doing for eight years. Even though we didn’t see any conversions or people coming forward to ask more about Christianity, the trip was deemed successful, because we improved the rapport of the embeded missionary.

The trip also blessed the team itself. There were many individuals from all over the U.S. on our trip – they hadn’t met each other (except via Facebook) before arriving in country. And yet, by the end of the week, we were calling each other “our new family.” We forged relationships in one week that will stay with us perhaps our whole lives. We were able to vocalize and reinforce budding aspirations for long-term mission work. We had some characters on our team, yet we all came together as a tight-knit community filled with love and acceptance. That seems to me like a remarkable instance of the church fulfilling its purpose.

So, although I think international short term missions might not be the best-motivated or most efficient of all Great Commission expressions, it can do well as a “burst of reinforcement” within the Body of Christ. Perhaps we can reconceptualize the primary target of such trips to be our brothers and sisters out there, holding the difficult and lonely posts on the fringe of Christendom.

Four waves of change in missions

[This is by John Piper, from the Desiring God blog – read the original here.]

Wave #1: Putting world evangelization into the passions of a new generation.

Missional is the in word today. But missions is not always in the word. Missions means crossing an ethno-linguistic barrier (that may take 20 years) in order to root the gospel in a people that has no access to it. Missions strategizes to reach not just unreached people, but unreached peoples. “Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you!” (Psalm 67:3). Wave #1 would result in missions becoming part of the DNA of missional.

Wave #2: Weaving the dark thread of hell back into the fabric of our compassion.

I pray that the watchword of world missions would become: We care about all suffering, especially eternal suffering. All these words count: suffering, eternal, especially, all, care, we. Each carries freight. Wave #2 would result in that freight being loaded into ten thousand gospel trains headed to the neighborhoods and the nations.

Wave #3: Blowing away misperceptions about what is needed in missions.

I pray that this conference would blow away the notion that missions can stay home now because all the nations have come to us. My neighborhood is currently reported by CityVision to be “the most ethnically diverse single neighborhood in America with 100+ languages spoken.” That changes a lot in the way we do missions. But one thing it does not change is the fact that the Joshua Project catalogues not a few hundred, but 6933 peoples globally without a self-sustaining gospel presence. Another misperception I would like to see blown away is that Westerners should just send money rather than go as missionaries. My paraphrase: Let others give their blood. We give our bucks. Realistically, most of the unreached peoples do not have anyone with better access to them than we have. “Unreached,” in its fullest sense, means: there’s no missionary in the people group to whom you could send money if you wanted to. So wave #3 would result in doing it all: missions to the unreached peoples that are here, support for missions from other sending churches, and especially mobilizing our own people to reach the thousands of people groups without access to the gospel.

Wave #4: Persuading pastors that a passion for the global glory of God is good for the saints at home.

If the light of your candle can shine ten thousand miles away, it is burning very bright at home. What kind of Christians do we want our churches to breed? Consider: Apathetic Christians, who spend most of their discretionary time in worldly entertainment, seldom pray, weep, or work for the reaching of the perishing peoples of the world. Do not coddle them. Confront them. Tell them to get a life. PG13 videos every other night leaves them spiritually powerless and empty. They need a cause big enough to live for. And die for. Wave #4 would make world missions the flashpoint for thousands of awakened Christians.

Lord, make me more strategic for the glory of Christ among the nations than I am able to think or imagine.

Is world missions your obligation?

My church basically answered, “Yes” in our sermon on Sunday. I’d like to qualify that.

World missions is not every Christian’s obligation. To live a missional lifestyle — now that is imperative. Jesus is on mission, the ministry of reconciliation, and we have been given the ministry of reconcilation (2 Corinthians 5:18-19). That means we are to live our lives continually seeking how we may connect those we encounter every day with the One from whom we get life and meaning. We should be ambitious about living our “neighbor” relationships in love, remembering the second greatest commandment is “like the first.”

What it does not mean is that every believer should go overseas in “world missions” or international missions. Not even on a short term trip. It doesn’t even mean that our homefront activities, like financial giving or promotional effort, are best spent targeting unreached people. Paul’s obligation to preach to those who have not already heard (Romans 15:20) was particular to him, not a precedent for everyone. He was set apart by the Holy Spirit from the rest of the elders of the church (Acts 13:2-4). He gives general commands for Christian behavior that seem incompatible with itinerant life (1 Thess. 4:11).

The bottom line is that the Body of Christ as a whole is tasked with reaching every tribe and tongue. We, the collective, are under obligation. As individuals our obligation is only to be open to how the Lord wants us to use our spiritual (and monetary) gifts as integrated into the function of the church at large, while bearing in mind that one of the main functions of the church is expanding itself into unreached places.

All are not hands, and all are not noses, nor eyes. We cannot make the blanket statement that we are all obligated to conduct world missions. Only let every part of the body remember what the activity of the body is, and do everything it can to contribute. After all, we are one body, with one head, even Christ.

The idolatry of missions

( Notes from John Miller at Next Steps )

My bitterness came from thinking I was at least slightly better than others.

Our soul-tattoo had become “missionary,” and God became a means to the ultimate ends – missions.

Guard against the idolatry of missions. Be careful – steps are something “I do.” You can take all the “next steps” you want, but if your heart is empty…

I can “rat-a-tat-tat” on my get-it-right Christianity, but we weren’t made to march. We were made to dance.

Missions didn’t die for me. Christar won’t be in heaven.

“Devotions” and “quiet time” are not in the Bible – they smack of “a chapter a day keeps the devil away.” What is in the Bible? Revel. Dance. Enjoy.

If you put Jesus first, you will never not have time for Him.

If we were to ask Jesus “How arre you doing today?” I can’t see him saying, “I’m busy.” But we wear “busy” like a badge of honor.

You don’t have to do this. The pressure’s off. God will be exalted, with or without you.

Seeds sprouted after

Ride a jeepney two hours into the beautiful green-clad mountains outside Butuan City, and you’ll reach a covered basketball court that serves as the community center for a small village. A group of medical missionaries were holding a clinic in the middle of the concrete pavilion one morning in late June. They had been welcomed that morning by the village captain and his assistant, who said, “I have lived here all my life, and this is the first time a medical clinic has come to our village.” Jordan and Sam, two college students, took temperatures and blood pressure, then gave everyone a number and sent them to some benches to wait until they were called.

Pastor Antonio leaned on a table near the benches. He was a brown-skinned Filipino with a thick and powerful build, and deep grooves that time had etched into his face. He had once been in the rebel army, but now his hardened face had a sublime tranquility in it, as he taught the people sitting on the benches about the Gospel. Behind Antonio was a large banner with pictures illustrating Bible stories that outlined the Gospel, the Gospel that changed his life and took him from military to ministry. He pointed to the box that depicted a cross on a hill, and addressed the small crowd in deep-voiced Cebuano. I knew what he was saying.

A few minutes later, Pastor Antonio called me over. “I want you to share your testimony,” he said. There was a new group of patients waiting at the benches. I agreed, exited at the opportunity and a little nervous. I told my story, about how I had been raised in the church, how I had wrestled with my father’s atheism, how I had fallen into secret sins that taught me God’s patient love, how I had resolved to hold no part of my life back from my King, how Christ was my only good. Pastor Antonio translated after every few sentences, so I had plenty of pauses to think about what to say. The mothers and children looked at my intently as I urged them to seek God and find him good, as I had. I prayed, and it was over. We passed out some tracts, smiling at the families.

I repeated my testimony to two or three other groups of patients. At three o’clock, the medical mission wrapped up, and we took the bone-rattling jeepney ride back down the mountain road. “Lord,” I prayed, “I’ve been faithful to tell who you are to me. I’ve done all I can, but no one responded openly. Please bring fruit out of it in your own time.”

Pastor Antonio had a daughter who had just given birth and was in the hospital with complications. She was taking heavy antibiotics to fight infection. About a week after the medical clinic, I went to the hospital in Butuan City to visit Antonio and his daughter, marveling at dank corridors that would have appalled most medical professionals back home. As I sat beside his daughter’s hospital bed and talked with him and our friend Rudy, Antonio pointed a finger at me and said something in Cebuano. I didn’t quite catch it, but Rudy translated.

“He says God used your testimony to bring people to salvation. Three people from the medical clinic last week came to Pastor Antonio here in the hospital and asked how to join our church.”

“Wait, they came here?” I asked. The trip to Butuan City was not something casually done for most rural residents.

“Yes, they sought him out in the hospital. There were two women and a man,” said Rudy.

“Praise God!” I said, unable to keep back a smile. Are you serious God? Thank you so much!

Antonio had referred the three villagers to Pastor Allen, a pastor in a neighboring area who came to the village to do social work. He was the closest permanent minister to them, so we put the task of follow-up with these people in his hands – and in God’s.

I walked away from the hospital reeling in delight. God had surely used what I had said, together with what Pastor Antonio had spoken, to stir the hearts of those people. I was sure their faith was genuine. They had gone to such great lengths to find Antonio, a symbol of their search for the Truth.

God had used me, the media guy who took pictures, to be part of communicating the life-changing message of the gospel to these people. God had altered eternal souls, and he had done it through me. Even days after I had left the field, seeds sprouted. Praise be to God, who stirs hearts beyond our sight or knowledge.