an outsider's view on jungle work

John Crosby was a long time columnist for the New York Herald Tribune. In his book With Love and Loathing he describes meeting, "a white-goateed man, tough as wire, had been missionarying through Africa and South America for thirty years."  I've posted the complete excerpt about this meeting on the family history blog, but below is what I found to be an interesting description of what jungle work is like.

“The upper Amazon teems with missionaries, all of them marvelously resourceful fellows. Along with bringing the word of God, they must know how to take an Evinrude [brand of outboard engine] apart, heal the sick, teach the children, rescue the flooded, speak two or three languages and half a dozen Indian dialects, and do about a million other things only dimly related to the Gospel."

Literature: a window into a nation's soul

There was a time not so many scores of years ago, that reading novels was considered a worthless activity for a serious Christian.  Those who know me well know that I love to read a wide variety of books, including novels.  Thus, I would like to suggest a different reality related to one aspect of reading fiction. 

Why was The DaVinci Code so popular, or The Shack? If we knew the answer to this question, we might understand something about the worldview around us.  {Incidentally, I enjoyed both of these books as novels, but they definitely had some bad theology.}  As a child, I often heard about a grid that we all have: imagine it as a sieve through which we filter all the data we receive.  But each time we deeply interact with a new culture (or sub-culture) there will be strings that are added to or removed from our sieve, creating an adjusted filter.  Now, this ties into literature, because I have found that reading literature from cultures other than my own will reveal to me different aspects of truth as well as deepening my understanding of how other cultures see the world they live in.

This may not be obvious, but it is true: American literature tends to be continually optimistic.  Not all American writings have happy endings; (The Light in the Forest shocked me when it didn't).  However, Americans generally expect hope at the end of even a dark book.  But in reading some foreign novels, I realized that not everyone has this expectation: Ismail Kadare's "The General of the Dead Army," an Albanian novel, and Orhan Pamuk's Turkish novel "Snow" demonstrated this to me.  These are sad, dreary novels that tended to leave almost depressed.  But, they opened for me a window into the thinking of their nation which I might not have gotten so easily in any other format.

Fictional literature tends to tell the reader about the national culture, mentality, and even history.  Thus, some of my favorite authors are British and reflect very similar cultural background to the American one that I am most familiar with: Alistair MacLean, Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Jeffrey Archer.  I learned much of ancient thought reading Norse mythology and Homer's Odyssey.

On the other hand, nonfictional works can be just as illuminating about culture equally unintentionally.  Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion, Watchman Nee's The Normal Christian Life, or Marx's The Communist Manifesto each reveal something about the author's national identity.

 Finally, both history and the news are better illuminated from the variety of perspectives that can be provided by other nationalities.  The First and the Last is a fascinating perspective on WWII by a high-ranking Luftwaffe pilot.  Or, Justo González provides a fabulous Story of Christianity from a Cuban background.  The iPINIONS Journal is one of my favorite news sources because of the independent perspective of the author as a lawyer from the Caribbean who lives in the US. 

Due to all this, I am planning to try to enrich my knowledge of some of the cultures that I am interacting with or am planning to by reading their literature, particularly the Turkish, Hispanic, and African-American books.

In closing, a favorite poem by a Polish writer which provides light on his world and which I want to help inform mine:

If china, then only the kind

you wouldn’t miss under the movers’ shoes or the treads of a tank;

if a chair, then one that’s not too comfortable, or you’ll regret getting up and leaving;

if clothes, then only what will fit in one suitcase;

if books, then those you know by heart;

if plans, then the ones you can give up

when it comes time for the next move,

to another street, another continent or epoch or world.

Who told you to settle in?

Who told you this or that would last forever?

Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’ll never

in the world

feel at home here?

 (I have read all or part of all of the books mentioned in here and would recommend them, though some certainly need a heavy dose of discernment.)

The Good Mexican: a modern parable

Now, there was a certain student and expositor of the Scriptures who wanted to test Jesus and asked, "How do I make sure I gain eternal life?  Can I just love God with all I am, and care for my neighbor's well-being as deeply as I care for my own?"

And the answer was "Yes!"

Suddenly, feeling the weight of his guilt, he queried further, "But who is my neighbor?"

And the answer came: "There was a man traveling from Eastern Suburbia to Western Suburbia through the heart of the City (a place commonly considered dangerous for any Suburbians traveling alone.)  And since he needed a coffee, he stopped at a gas station in City.  As he walked back to his car, he was assailed from behind by a gang that mugged  him and threw him into the shadows, taking his wallet, his keys, and then his car.  A pastor happened to walk by a few minutes later, but when he saw the bloodied and groaning man, he quickly crossed the street and slipped away.  Not long later, a deacon was walking by and after taking a look at the man, continued on his way, on the other side of the street.  But there was a recent Latino immigrant, who upon seeing the man, felt great sorrow and compassion, and so he went and helped the man get up and cared for his bumps and bruises, and took him into his own house and fed him and gave him a place to sleep.  And the next day, the Mexican man again fed the man, gave him a decent set of clothes and gave him bus money to get back to Eastern Suburbia.  All this without telling the Suburbian that he might lose his job for taking the day off or that he had next to no money. 
So, yes, if by neighbors, you mean every one who has the breath of life in them, then yes, by all means, love God and your neighbor and you WILL inherit eternal life.  But if you only desire to love the lovely, comfortable neighbors, then no, loving your neighbors will not take you to heaven."   

on Financing the Gospel minister: thoughts from a far day and a far place

From The Reformed Pastor by Richard Baxter:

"Brethen, if the saving of souls be your end, you will certainly intend it out of the pulpit as well as in it! If it be your end, you will live for it, and contribute all your endeavors to attain it. You will ask concerning the money in your purse, as well as concerning the word of your mouth, ‘In what way shall I lay it out for the greatest good, especially to men’s souls?’ Oh that this were your daily study, how to use your wealth, your friends, and all you have for God, as well as your tongues! Then should we see that fruit of your labors, which is never else like to be seen. ... Spare not for any cost, if it may promote your Master’s work. ... There are no virtues wherein your example will do more, at least to abate men’s prejudice, than humility and meekness and self-denial. ... Stretch your purse to the utmost, and do all the good you can. Think not of being rich; seek not great things for yourselves or your posterity. What if you do impoverish yourselves to do a greater good; will this be loss or gain? ... You lose no great advantage for heaven, by becoming poor: ‘In pursuing one’s way, the lighter one travels the better.'"

 "O what abundance of good might ministers do, if they would but live in contempt of the world, and the riches and glory thereof, and expend all they have in their Master’s service, and pinch their flesh, that they may have wherewith to do good! This would unlock more hearts to the reception of their doctrine, than all their oratory; and, without this, singularity in religion will seem but hypocrisy; and it is likely that it is so." 

(emphases mine)

Related to this are some outstanding thoughts by Conrad Mbewe:

"The common understanding of those who are seriously considering the call to the work of missions is that you need to secure an extra source of income and your retirement package before you commence working for God—otherwise you will bring untold suffering upon your family. The church will only pay you enough to stop you from starving to death. So, issues of clothing and educating your family, and finally having a roof over your head and food in your stomach after retirement must be your own problem to solve.

Thus there are many individuals among us who ought to have been in the mission field aeons ago were it not for these feelings of insecurity. They cannot do so until they have built themselves their retirement homes, which would also bring in that little extra money from rentals. This perception is really worrying. It is disconcerting because, to me, it is a form of practical atheism. It suggests that God may call people into his service but fail to provide for them and their children. Perish the thought!"

"I find this most unfortunate because when Jesus, the Son of God, came to earth, the Bible tells us that he “tabernacle” among us (John 1:14). He did not need to be born in a cow shed. He did not need to get tired and dusty because of travelling on foot in the dusty paths of Palestine. He could have jetted down from heaven on angel wings and continued gliding over everyone’s heads at supersonic speed as he went from town to town preaching the gospel. However, he lived exactly the way in which the people of his day lived—the people among whom he had come to minister. Judas needed to kiss Jesus in order to differentiate him from his disciples when he brought soldiers to arrest him. That was how much Jesus fitted in with the people among whom he ministered!" 

(emphases mine)