MISH: Make important stuff happen (without screwing up too badly)
A missionary survival guide
(with a new section on langauge and culture exploration)
By David Ker
Copyright David Ker
Smashwords Edition
Version 06.Dec.11
Preface
November is usually the month in which I fail in my attempt to write some sort of book. In 2010 I wrote a strange collection of blogging inspired murder mysteries in which no one actually died. In 2009, I wrote a memoir of a decade living in Mozambique. In 2008, I worked feverishly on an idea for a novel based on the death of Mary Livingstone and in the end completely froze up and wasn’t able to write a single sentence.
So here we are in 2011. What shall I write? I already decided that because of the fact that I’m supposed to be writing a research proposal for a Master’s degree that I wouldn’t be able to write anything. But here I am with an extra day on my hands. And what a day it is: November 11, 2011. In other words: 11/11/11. Since I need to prepare some notes for a couple of presentations I’m making next week to some new YWAM students, I thought I’d collect together old posts from my blog that deal with being a missionary and some of the contradictions of doing aid when you don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re doing. The result is this book.
All of these essays have appeared previously on my blog. You can read the originals and see comments and refutations by fellow bloggers by visiting here: http://lingamish.com/series/mish/. This isn’t meant to be a comprehensive guide to survival on the field, or the source of every answer you might have about what it means to be a missionary. But I hope there’s enough interesting stuff here based on our experiences in Africa that will justify the price of a free book.
Questions, comments and suggestions for topics that should be included in this book are welcome: email me here: kanyimbe@gmail.com
Cover photo: David and Manteiga take turns interrupting each other while preaching under a tree in Degwe, Mozambique (1999).
All photos by the author unless otherwise noted.
UPDATE: December 6, 2011
I've now added several chapters on language and culture exploration (LACE). Also, I deleted a couple of chapters that were not really very good. The rest of this stuff is just amazing. Brilliant. Really.
The book is divided into four sections:
1. The Mish: Chapters 1-15
2. The Mish Field: Chapters 16-26
3. The Mish Mission: Chapters 27-36
4. LACE for the Mish: Chapters 37-41
Best advice in this book: When my wife and I were taking turns having nervous breakdowns in Portugal in 1997, a veteran missionary arrived for a few days and told us, “Just enjoy Portugal!” Since then, that's been one of the themes of our missionary career: Enjoy wherever you are! Thanks, Aunt Jam, for some great advice.
The Mish
The essays in this section focus on the missionary, how they get sent to the field and what happens once they get there. The mission field shapes the missionary before the missionary can begin to impact the mission field.
Chapter 1: What is MISH?
Sometimes I think MISH stands for “Make Incredible Stuff Happen.” I get to start lots of cool projects. I always think they’re incredible when they start. Most of them fall apart at some point but the few that survive are really incredible. MISH could also stand for “Make Impossible Stuff Happen.” These are the kinds of things that can only happen if God does a miracle. I need to work on more of those. But modestly, I’d say MISH stands for “Make Important Stuff Happen.” There are so many ways to get involved in making the world better. That’s important stuff. I know building your retirement account is a worthwhile goal. And being a cubicle slave is important if it means supporting your family and letting your little light shine. But let’s at least admit that there’s an increased chance of doing something important if you’re living in some weird place on the other side of the planet. There’s also an increased chance of catching a weird disease or being accidentally martyred but never mind.
Being a MISH is a blast. When it’s not sweaty and itchy and bewildering.
WARNING: A few of these posts are satirical.
Chapter 2: William Carey’s Wig
On June 13th, 1793, William Carey and his wife Dorothy set sail from England for Bengal. The journey was to take five months. Fellow traveler, Dr. John Thomas, wrote later, “Mrs. Carey had many fears and troubles, so that she was like Lot’s wife until we passed the Cape.” Imagine this young woman who had never been more than 100 miles from her home, now traveling into the great unknown! It is no wonder that soon after arriving in India, Dorothy was to suffer a nervous breakdown. Eventually her husband would record in a letter, “Poor Mrs. Carey is quite mad.”
That quote has passed into our own family vocabulary. In our early days as missionaries in Mozambique, in a particularly stressful moment one or the other of us would quip, “Poor Mrs. Ker is quite mad!”
While Dorothy was taking leave of her senses, William was bidding farewell to the fashion mores of his day. Carey, who was prematurely bald had for several years worn a truly ugly wig. According to Mr. Riley, one of Carey’s friends, “Good Mr. Wilson of Olney is an excellent Christian, but one of the ugliest wigmakers that ever was born.” At some point on the journey, Carey grabbed the wig off his head and threw it overboard. I’ve always loved that image, imagining the dreadful wig sailing through the air to land with a plop on the water’s surface. I imagine Carey watching with satisfaction as the wig sank below the surface. While he would no longer have to wear a hot, itchy and ugly wig, he would now have to contend with sunburn on his stark white head!
Despite arriving in Bengal without official authorization (Carey entered as a businessman to bypass the India Company’s prohibition on missionary activity) and the fact that he and his family were surviving under the most difficult possible living conditions, Carey was able to write back to England after less than a year, “I intend to send you soon a copy of Genesis, Matthew, Mark and James in Bengali Also a small vocabulary and grammar of the language in manuscript of my own composing.” In less than three years, Carey translated the entire New Testament in Bengali, while working as the manager of an indigo factory, pastoring a local congregation, and studying Sanskrit in his spare time.
According to Kellsye Finney, in the book William Carey:
“By 1832 complete Bibles, New Testaments, or separate books of Scripture had been issued in forty-four languages and dialects. This was a task representing team work at its highest level.”
As a modern day Bible translator, I look at such numbers in awe. How is it possible to translate Genesis, Matthew, Mark and James in less than a year? And that being the first year on the field! How could one man find time to participate in forty-four Bible translations? Don’t forget that he was also a full-time pastor and university lecturer as well.
When my wife told our children how many Bibles William Carey had translated, one of them responded, “And Daddy hasn’t even finished one!”
In the year before his death on June 9th, 1834, William always carried with him the proofs of his latest revision of the Bengali New Testament. He died with the latest edition of the Bengali New Testament in his hands.
Source: Much of the information and quotes in this post comes from Kellsye Finney’s book William Carey, OM Publishing, 1986. Some information was taken from the Wikipedia article “William Carey.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Carey.htm)
Chapter 3: Missionary Mirage
A couple of reads on the web got me silently fuming on the subject of missionary mirages. But why keep it in when I can let it all hang out in a first-rate rant?!? First, iMonk tells us to look to churches in the developing world to re-evangelize the developed world and instruct our churches in “as many ways as possible.” Then I ran across a Dan Edelen post at Cerulean Sanctum from way back in March of last year sharing missionary stories that can’t possibly be true but actually are… or maybe not.
The sad truth is that there are just as many goofballs and hucksters in the third world churches as there are in the developed world. I have ceased to believe that a guy wearing a tie and calling himself “Pastor” is necessarily a Christian. He is just as likely an “opportunista” hoping to fleece a flock and pull the wool over a missionary’s eyes in the process. On top of that you can hardly cross the street without being run down by some ”missionary” in a Toyota 4×4 trying to save the lost and reach the unreached which for some reason always seems to involve buying a lot of bicycles and roof tin. If I’m to believe their publicity some of these missions have flooded Tete province with the Gospel and new churches are springing up by the hundreds. But I have yet to see even one of these supposed churches and instead all I hear from local believers is “that’s the mission that pays people to be pastors.”
Don’t believe everything you hear in missionary newsletters for a couple of reasons. (Why am I saying this? I’m cutting my own throat!) As a missionary I am trapped between your vision of what the field is like and what is really happening out here. Out of respect for the local populace and because the situation is not as simplistic as our supporters would wish we often can’t report what’s going on in the trenches. We tend to tell you about the good and then just gloss over the bad. And if you take the bad and add it to the just-plain-boring stuff, they outweigh the good by far. I had a recent example where my Bible college students had written some extremely moving “epistles” to the believers in Turkey after hearing of the recent killings of Christians there. I really wanted to publish a couple of those letters to show people some of the depth of sincerity present in believers here. But in the course of the students turning in an assignment based on those letters it was discovered that four of the six students were involved in plagiarizing one another’s work. Even then I thought, “Well, I can just share the letters and not mention the cheating.” But that’s not the kind of thing that helps a guy to sleep well at night.
My colleagues Mikael and Semo have been slogging away for the last month checking the Nyungwe translation of Genesis. In a month they checked twenty-five chapters, day after day. Sitting on tippy pews, and working at a rickety table in the corner of a church. It’s not glamorous stuff but it is what much of being a missionary is about.
I have the privilege of knowing many sincere, Spirit-filled hard-working expat missionaries and Mozambican pastors. Most of them work too hard for very small results and none of the ones I hang out with are fabulously wealthy as a result. Just yesterday I was rejoicing that I was in an environment where I get to work with godly brothers and sisters in Christ from many nations of the world all with a passion for spreading the gospel in Mozambique. But within that same group are people, myself included, with character flaws, weaknesses, failings and more that I probably can’t guess and would be shocked if I knew. We are the body of Christ, strong in our weaknesses and doing the kinds of things month after month that don’t make very good press releases.
So go ahead and believe everything that you hear coming out of the mission field. Much of it is true. But much of it is a mirage. If you want to be able to tell the difference you might have to come over here and see it for yourself.
Chapter 4: If your mission’s a pain, get on a train
Gladys Aylward was hardly a promising prospect for overseas missionary work. She was frail, poorly trained and…a woman. At that time in England a single woman serving as a missionary was not considered a good option. They said no. So she said, here I go. She got on a train with what little money she had and headed for China. The rest is history.
I mention Gladys because there is a certain amount of individualism required in answering the call of Christ on your life. “Though none go with me, still I will follow!” If you feel a call to a cross-cultural mission you must be fervent. You need passion. You need to be slightly obsessed. Because if you aren’t wholly committed to your call two things are going to happen. First, you are going to have a lot of trouble getting people to buy into your vision. William Carey told those sending him out, “I’ll descend into the mine if you’ll hold the rope.” His passion inspired prayer, logistical and financial support. The second thing that will happen if you are not totally committed to your call is that when you get on the field you will last as long as a cold drink on a summer day. The heat will get you. The cross-cultural stress will make you hate the people you came to serve. Homesickness will sap you of your potential. The fellow missionaries you are supposed to work with will get on your nerves.
But if you’ve got the call, you can make it. It will keep you going when everything else is telling you to quit. And if you can make it over the hump of your first term on the field, you’re on your way to a fruitful and long-term ministry.
Still, individualism is not the only key to being a missionary. You need to be part of a community of faith that is sending you as their ambassador. If you are a lone ranger out there you might be able to do the tent-maker thing, but these days most highly trained and competent missionaries depend on big well-organized missions to handle everything from correspondence to finances to placement overseas. All the training that you got to get to the point where you are able to be of service overseas probably means that you are in debt. That’s what happened to me. I had my degree. I was raring to go to Africa. But my mission wouldn’t release me until I had paid off my school loans. So my wife and I floundered for a couple of years not making much money, not making much of a dent on the debts until our mission changed their policy. It turned out that we weren’t the only recruits in this position. Young people were universally coming out of their university and technical training with large debts and the mission had to allow payments for these to be figured into their budgets or they weren’t going to have anyone to send overseas.
So despite the difficulty of dealing with a mission and supporting churches, I think the best and most effective cross-cultural ministers are going to be highly-trained, and tightly integrated within their sending church. Couple that with a Spirit-inspired determination to serve no matter what and I think wild horses couldn’t keep such a person of the field.
Note: I apologize for not doing some fact checking on this before publishing but I’ve got a full day ahead and won’t have time to polish this. Feel free to correct information on Aylward and Carey.
Chapter 5: Don’t mess with a missionary, man.
Note: Opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily represent my mission, or any of the nice pastors and churches that support us.
Image: The movie Missionary Man has absolutely nothing to do with mission’s work in Africa.
Lyrics to “Missionary Man” by the Eurythmics:
Don’t mess with a missionary man.
Don’t mess with a missionary man.
Well the missionary man
He’s got god on his side.
He’s got the saints and apostles
Backin’ up from behind.
Why are pastors so terrified of missionaries? When I’m visiting a new church, the last thing I’m going to do is tell the pastor that I’m a missionary. Because if I do he suddenly gets this panicked look in his eyes like he’s just been cornered by an Amway salesman. Shoot, I haven’t seen such fear since the days when I used to try to collect money on my newspaper route.
Nope, I won’t tell him. Instead, I smile and try to give him the impression that we’re a new family in the neighborhood looking for a place to pay our tithe and volunteer in the nursery. Then I get some serious smiles.
It really stinks. Because in the places where pastors do let us have a five-minute window to talk about our mission in darkest Africa we are introduced like heroes. But backstage it’s always, “Please keep within your five minutes because we have a really tight schedule.” Being from Africa, I always smile and then completely ignore the warning. After all I’m event-oriented. In Africa, church isn’t even warming up until we’ve been in the building for two hours.
Now of course this doesn’t apply to the really great churches where we’ve been supported faithfully for more than a decade (Please keep it up!). Nor does it apply to the little country church we’re attending at the moment where the pastor said, “Tell me any Sunday you want and it’s yours. And you can have as much time as you want.”
But I feel like some of these pastors out there must really be up against the wall financially. Of course, it is highly likely that there are some missionaries out there that just want your money. Not us. We survive on peanuts in Africa and we like it that way. Our mission comes from the “missionaries work harder on a shoe-string-budget” school of fund-raising. And that’s just as well with me. Thank heavens that I’m not from one of those really big-budget missions (who shall remain nameless). They have to raise twice our budget so they can afford to ship over these huge containers full of American appliances, furniture and double-thick toilet paper. The rest of us on the field have to spend all our time helping these poor schmucks get their containers out of customs. But they throw some good parties once they get their mansions missions set up. And when they burn out after 18 months, they give away all their comfortable furniture to us.
Don’t mess with a missionary, man.
We own a 4×4. And we really need it.
We speak twelve impossible languages before breakfast.
We eat worms. And like it.
We’re poor but we’re self-righteous.
No retirement benefits. But a job worth burning out for.
We have in fact seen the smoke from a thousand villages.
Our kids have more stamps in their passports than you ever will, Bub.
The members of our church never whine about the carpet or the donuts.
We don’t have to live in the parsonage.
We vacation in places you could only dream of visiting.
Chapter 6: Psalm 68 as a Missionary Prayer
The title of this post is the sub-title of the book The Goings of God by Paul Shepherd. This book was published by the Middle East Christian Outreach in 1986. According to the back cover:
Dr. Paul Shepherd served in a mission hospital in Egypt from 1953 to 1956. From 1957 onwards he spent nearly 20 years in Eritrea, where a rural hospital was built near the Sudan border, to reach nomadic Muslim tribes and train Eritreans in simple medical work and evangelistic witness. Since having to leave Eritrea because of the civil war he has been Assistant General Director of Middle East Christian Outreach, based in Cyprus.
I’m just amazed that I stumbled upon the book in one of my many still-unpacked boxes in my study. I was actually looking for a book on Relevance Theory. That will have to wait for another time. I had no idea I even owned this book but what wonderful timing to find it now. Obviously someone who lived in Egypt and Eritrea would have a unique perspective on this psalm.
Chapter 7: Being A Missionary Paul’s Way
Today’s missionaries are a bunch of wimps.
Health insurance? Gimme a break. Furloughs? What pansies! Paul, on the other hand, was a macho missionary. He got beat up. He rebuked St. Peter. Hello? You think you’d have the nerve to rebuke St. Peter? I don’t think so. He planted more churches than you’ll ever even attend.
Inspired by the great man, I’ve always had a simple philosophy of missions. If you’re going to be a missionary you should model your life after the original. Everyone who has ever followed was a pale imitation of the original: Saul of Tarsus.
So for you prospective missionary-types out there, you need to read through this list and see if you’re prepared to suck it up and fulfill the Great Commission like St. Paul.
If you want to be a missionary like Paul you need to:
1. Insult the natives.
“One of Crete’s own prophets has said it: ‘Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.’ He has surely told the truth!”
2. If anyone disagrees with you, hand them over to Satan.
“Among them are Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom I have handed over to Satan to be taught not to blaspheme.”
3. Threaten heretics with castration.
“As for those agitators, I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves!”
4. Use spiritual coercion
“Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love.”
5. Tell lots of snake stories.
“Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand.”
6. Curse people who bother you.
“You are a child of the devil and an enemy of everything that is right! You are full of all kinds of deceit and trickery. Will you never stop perverting the right ways of the Lord? Now the hand of the Lord is against you. You are going to be blind for a time, not even able to see the light of the sun.”
7. Don’t let your family distract you from your ministry.
“Now to the unmarried and the widows I say: It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I do.”
8. Use a ghost-writer
“I, Tertius, who wrote down this letter, greet you in the Lord.”
9. Talk about your out-of-body experiences in the third person.
“I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows.”
10. Get beat up a lot.
“I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again.”
This is just a sample of the wisdom I have gleaned from the life and words of Paul. I try to do each of these things at least once a week. But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Buy my book, Let no one cause me trouble: Paul’s secret to missionary success and you can be join the ranks of Paul, Patrick, Carey and Ker.
Chapter 9: Sleep well
While vacationing with family last week, I got an e-mail from Mozambique saying that a number of the Bible translators studying at Bible college were in need of mattresses. This means that they have been sleeping on cement floors during this the coldest season of the year. It was a disturbing message for me, especially as I was surrounded by people “roughing it” in luxurious campers and RVs. These kinds of situations happen quite often to us when we are back in the US. There’s no real way to help people understand the poverty we see around us in Africa. Recently I’ve started taking pictures of America to show to our Mozambican friends. What will they think about American houses? What about miles and miles of fields thick with corn? Would they understand kidney dialysis for pets or aromatherapy? The prosperity of America is as incomprehensible to them as the poverty of Africa is to the average American. And what about me? I don’t really know where to call home. Undoubtedly I enjoy the cushy life in the States. But I don’t really feel at home here. When you work cross-culturally you become something like the guest at the banquet that Jesus described, even as you enter into the feast you are aware of Lazarus outside the gate. It takes an edge off the enjoyment of the feast.
Another recent example was our children shooting off rockets at the church’s mid-week youth meeting. It was one of those absolutely gorgeous summer afternoons. We were sitting in lawn chairs, drinking soft drinks and eating pretzels and watching the kids enthusiastically waiting their turn to send their home-made rockets shooting into the air. After posting some of the photos, Peter Kirk expressed his dismay at these images since at the same time our children were playing with toy rockets, children in Israel and Lebanon were being fired on by real rockets.
Most people in America have probably never been fired on by missles, or had to sleep on a cold cement floor. And I certainly don’t want to wish that on anyone. Instead, we all hope to end wars and create prosperity throughout the world. As someone who moves between these two worlds it’s hard to know what we can do to help. Should we raise funds to buy mattresses? Should we bring people to Africa to see first hand what it’s like there? As a family we help out as many people as possible while in Africa without getting involved in large-scale aid programs. So we’ve helped individuals, families, churches and even an entire village with various donations of everything from money to clothes to roofing material. In general, we feel our best way to enrich those we come into contact with is through our work in Bible translation and literacy.
Our lives are richer for the cross-cultural experiences we have had. But sometimes I wish I could forget it all and sink into the bliss of living in America. There is a lot we miss out on by not living in the United States, but even if we could have it all we’d never be able to enjoy it knowing that our brothers and sisters in other parts of the world are suffering while we live it up here.
Chapter 10: Hospitality in Africa
“You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet.” Luke 7:45 (NIV)
Next week I leave America and head back to Africa. During eleven months in America only three times did we receive an invitation to someone’s home. Had it not been for our strong family ties in Oregon we would have spent our furlough in splendid isolation. Africa is a different story. I know that when I arrive in Tete I will be invited to everyone’s home and if I do not show up in the first week, my friends will come find me where I am staying and visit me. Most of the churches we visited in the U.S. gave us a “5-minute window” for us to share information about our previous three years of ministry in Africa. In Mozambique, when I arrive at any church they will give me a seat of honor at the front of the church. They will bring chairs from a neighbor’s house if necessary so that my wife and children don’t have to sit on the floor. I will be invited to preach and take as long as I wish. When the service is over we will more than likely be invited to dine with people who spend the better part of their lives hungry.
American Christians are amazingly generous. They have faithfully supported us financially for almost ten years. But I guess after living in Africa all that time I expected a different reception in America. Maybe I wished that when I came to someone’s house that they would serve me tea like they do in Africa. Or act like they don’t have anything else in the world more important than conversing with a guest. But this is America. Everyone is very busy. If I showed up unannounced at someone’s house here they would think it very strange while in Africa it is the most normal thing you can do. In Africa you don’t make appointments! You just show up.
I will miss the comfort in America. The furniture here is so soft! But I look forward to the hospitality in Africa. The chairs are very hard, but the welcome is very warm.
Chapter 12: 2legit2quit
Why do some missions ooze legitimacy while others just try a bit too hard? I’ve noticed a direct correlation between the sophistication of my missionary prayer letters and the likelihood that people will respond. Folks don’t like slick. Especially when it comes to missionaries. The “missionary barrel” was created for a reason. When missionaries are too well-dressed we always think to ourselves that they’re fakers. A good missionary should look like a dork. And a missionary woman should never wear makeup. Hello! Do you think granny is sending her money to headquarters every month and praying over your fridge picture so you can have your hair done? I don’t think so. Get out there and save somebody. But don’t let me see you getting all gussied up.
Exhibit A (1995)
I kid you not. The lady tried to get us to smile by saying, "Money."
Exhibit B: (1997)
Where did all these kids come from?
There’s something endearing about old missionary fridge photos. Those people just look so earnest. And geeky. And ten years down the road we’re even earnest-er and way geekier. Something about being out of the US for that long makes it kind of hard to keep track of fashionable dress.
A short course in missionary communications:
Send folks a plain email with the plain truth and spend more of your time working on the ministry. Folks don’t send you to the field to produce slick newsletters.
When you write home, say nice things about the people you serve. They’re not savages in need of your saving. They’re heirs of redemption who you have the privilege of serving.
Dress like a dork. Nobody cares.
Follow-up. Even when you’ve moved on to other things, your supporters wonder if their prayers were answered and how.
Chapter 13: Surrounded by a cloud of TLCers
In a previous post I discussed how as overseas missionaries we can sometimes feel isolated when we are in our home country. Life continues in our absence and it is often hard to fit into the fast-paced rhythm of modern American life when you are only here for a few short months. I’d hate for you to think that we spent our time in “the U.S. of A” all sad and lonely. We had a terrific time with family and some very dear friends. When we met acquaintances at churches they were invariably kind to us and mostly in-the-know about what we had been doing.
On our final Sunday at my home church I had an enlightening moment that reminded me of how the Lord surrounds us with his love while we are in a far-away land. My wife and I were sitting in the pew listening to the pastor and I noticed that seated on either side of us and in the pew in front of us were members of the same TLC group. A TLC group is a small group that usually meets once a month at someone’s home for fellowship and prayer. TLC stands for “Tender Loving Care” or “The Lord Cares.” This particular group has met for more than ten years in the same house. I’ve had a chance to attend this group a couple times over the years and have been amazed seeing the body of Christ in action, ministering to one another with various gifts. I know that this TLC group gets our email updates about our work in Mozambique and they pray for us regularly. So for me, that brief revelation on a Sunday morning, seeing myself literally surrounded by God’s people reminded me how as a missionary, the Lord remembers us in our isolation on the other side of the world and surrounds us with prayers and TLC.