They’ll Know We Are Christians By How Much We Love to Hate

Church: simmer down now. This World Vision fiasco is out of control.

I’m going to keep this short. My take on the subject is simple. We cannot keep going like this.

People – people who claim to be Christ-followers themselves – are uttering actual sentences like, “There is no such thing as a gay Christ-follower.” What? What?!?! What Gospel supports that? Jesus came to seek and save the lost. He came to rescue us. While we were yet sinners, He died for us. How dare we point a finger at someone whom we deem more sinful than us and say that they are not worthy of claiming Jesus’ offer of salvation?

The world is watching and listening and reading, and when they hear such hateful, hypocritical crap, they are laughing – at best. At worst, they are swearing to never have anything to do with this religion for the rest of their lives.

This is a defining issue of our generation. Not because the LGBT community is more prominent than it has been throughout every preceding generation, but because today’s technology facilitates swift, violent, and public (although often anonymous) attacks on the LGBT community. We cannot keep going like this.

What would Jesus do if He was here in the flesh today? Matthew 26:52-53 springs to mind. How did Jesus respond when Peter cut off the arresting officer’s ear? He didn’t say, “Phew! Thanks, Peter. It’s a good thing you were here to stick up for me otherwise I totally would’ve been screwed.” No! He reprimanded Peter for his violent, hateful reaction. “Put your sword away. Anyone who lives by fighting will die by fighting. Don’t you know that I could ask my Father, and right away he would send me more than twelve armies of angels?” And then He heals the officer’s ear!

Do you get the contrast there? Peter is one of Jesus’ closest followers. He’s been by Jesus’ side all through His years of ministry. He’s clung to Jesus’ teaching and professed his devotion and love. And yet, when Peter responds with violence towards someone whom he perceives as a threat to Jesus’ authority, Jesus shuts him down. Jesus (with all authority on heaven and earth) doesn’t need Peter to jump in and save the day. Instead, Jesus turns and heals the guy who is about to lead Him off to His death.

Let’s back up one chapter to Matthew 25. Here Jesus gives a very clear defining standard for who will be welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven.  Verse 24 says, “Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘My father has blessed you! Come and receive the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world was created. When I was hungry, you gave me something to eat, and when I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me, and when I was naked, you gave me clothes to wear. When I was sick, you took care of me, and when I was in jail, you visited me.’” If Jesus was speaking these words today, He might add, “When I was gay, you were my friend.”

Sweet merciful heavens, I am not suggesting that Jesus was gay. I am proclaiming that He is heartbroken over how we treat marginalized people and we will be held accountable for it. He says as much a couple of verses later. The way we treat “the least of these”, is the same as treating Jesus Himself like that.

One of today’s “least of these” is the LGBT community. Not because of their sexual orientation, but because of how we have vilified them. We, the church, have made them the least. Shame on us.

I am not offering an opinion on World Vision’s decision. The circular arguments make my head hurt. I can’t imagine how overwhelming and crushing it is for those who are closely connected to WV and are now navigating through the hurricane of those discussions. This is where I stand: regardless of our personal opinion of how someone else’s sin stacks up against our own, we are not proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ when we continue to spew hateful, hypocritical condemnation.

Jesus’ authority is not threatened by World Vision’s policy change. So put your sword away.

I’m not going to leave this post open for comments (if I can figure out the technology of such restrictions). Not because I’m afraid of continuing the discussion, but simply because I refuse to be party to the backlash and fallout that is erupting on every single article and post that has addressed this issue over the past couple of days. We can’t keep going like this.

 

Anita By Any Other Name

It was our first week in Ethiopia and the school down the road needed an English teacher for their grades 7 and 8 classes. I volunteered.

I had no idea what I was doing. The school did not have a curriculum for me to follow, nor did the students have textbooks, workbooks or even notebooks! One of the other teachers gave me a piece of chalk on my first day because I didn’t know I was to buy my own ahead of time. I hadn’t yet started my language and culture orientation classes, so I really didn’t know anything about Ethiopia or how things worked.

But I did think to ask one question before I headed off to class: How should the students address me? Well, that’s what I meant to ask. What I actually asked was “How do you say ‘missus’ in Amharic?” The answer to that question is wizero. And so I introduced myself to my students as Wizero Neuman.

By the time I realized that people just call each other by their first name, it was too late. I was already known as Neuman instead of Anita. That is what they called me in class, and that is what they hollered for all the world to hear when they saw me walking down the street. “Hello, Neuman!” Right out of Seinfeld – except they didn’t know it was funny.

My misunderstanding of the first name/last name situation was further complicated by the frequent question, “What is your father’s name?” That seemed an odd thing to ask, back in those first few days when I was so new to the country I wasn’t even over jetlag yet. But I assumed it was one of those basic questions that every language learner memorizes and practices on others. How old are you? Where is the bathroom? What is your father’s name?

I was wrong. Their father’s name and father’s father’s name are like our western middle name and last name. Their lineage is their name, regardless of gender, and it doesn’t change when they get married.

When students asked me, “What is your father’s name?” and I answered “Jim” (because I thought they were simply practicing their English), they thought Jim was my second name. And then they would ask, “What is your grandfather’s name?” and my mind would immediately go to my maternal grandfather, with whom I was very close. Coincidentally, his name was also Jim.

So instead of just introducing myself as Anita Neuman right from the start, I stupidly and inadvertently let 100+ students think my name was Neuman Jim Jim.

All I wanted to do was fill the need for an English teacher. I was trying to help. But despite my pure and honorable intentions, I came off looking like a schmuck.

It happens to the best of us, doesn’t it?

So let’s remember that when we see someone else who’s coming off looking like a schmuck. Maybe, just maybe, they’re actually a kind and generous person who simply made a mistake. Let’s show them a little bit of grace.

As I progressed in my Amharic language and understanding of Ethiopian culture, I began to introduce myself as Tsegah. This was a much easier name to remember for most of my Ethiopian friends and colleagues, and it happens to mean grace – just like Anita does.

Grace is the name by which I would rather present myself to the world. Even when (especially when) I come face-to-face with someone who’s acting like a Neuman Jim Jim.

 

The Dirty Bride

This is me getting ready for my wedding (No, not recently. I know, I know – aside from growing my bangs out, I haven’t changed a bit. Ahem.) I loved being a bride! I bought my dress the day after we got engaged. I loved all the planning. I loved making centrepieces and bouquets. I loved writing my vows. I loved picking out my something old (my grandma’s handkerchief that she carried on her wedding day), something new (my dress), something borrowed (the crinoline belonging to my bridesmaid, Christa) and something blue (which was well-concealed by the time I approached the aisle, by the way). I loved having our family and dearest friends surrounding us and supporting us and celebrating us all day.

There is a lot of work that goes into being a bride. Stuff that the groom doesn’t have to think about, and probably doesn’t want to know about. The final look has probably required months of strict diet and exercise regimes, multiple hairstylist appointments, a throng of professionals attending to rough heel skin and unkempt cuticles, an unfathomable (and usually painful) process of hair removal, layer upon layer of lotions-oils-creams-powders-and-sprays, and the surgically precise application of make-up.

No bride gets up on the day of her wedding and has a 3-minute shower, thinking “Hurray! Floor-length gown means I don’t have to shave!” No, this is her day. This is the most beautiful she will look in her whole life. If ever there was a day to be excessive in the preparations, it’s today. She will be resplendent. Everyone in attendance will be in awe. Her groom will go weak in the knees when he sees her radiant beauty.

The bride. This is how the Bible depicts the church. The aforementioned description is the image that is invoked when we hear “the Bride of Christ”. Oh, the pure, spotless bride. Such a romantic notion, is it not? I guess that means we, the church, need to put all our effort into looking pretty on the wedding day, right? Pristine sanctuaries, Grammy-worthy worship performances, bounteous donations to missionaries and other worthy charities…so pretty!

And so far from what our Groom wants.

Jesus wants a dirty bride! A church whose feet are cold and calloused because she’s given away her shoes. A church whose dress is splattered with the food she’s been serving to the poor. A church whose shoulders are soaked from comforting the bereaved. A church whose face is scarred from intervening in attacks against the defenseless. A church whose knuckles are bloodied and bruised from fighting injustice. A church whose nails are torn and filthy from helping the most destitute climb out of their pits of despair. A church who reeks from embracing the unbathed, the drunk, the disposed. A church who has given and given and given until she doesn’t have the strength to walk down the aisle.

That is the bride that Jesus wants. Her beauty will not be found in her pristine appearance, but in her purity of heart and in her steadfast determination to love Him with everything she has. He will meet her on that wedding day and He will carry her to the celebration. Only then will He transform her into the rapturous beauty that far outshines all other brides.

Until then, let’s get dirty.

 

My Favourite Things

In my previous post, I talked about doing the very best with what I have right now and I promised to share with you some of my favourite charities/organizations that are doing great things around the world. These past few days of waiting must have been torturous for you! Hush now, dearie; Momma-Nita’s here to make it all better. So without further ado, here are my Favourite Things (somewhat like Oprah’s Favourite Things, except my favourite things actually help other people and save lives as opposed to convincing you that your life is meaningless without thousand-dollar slippers):

First up: Samaritan’s Purse.There are two projects within Samaritan’s Purse that I want to highlight, both of which can be accessed from their home page. First is Operation Christmas Child (OCC). In the summer of 2004, I was visiting an orphanage in South Africa and was delighted to see that all the children had these beautifully wrapped shoeboxes filled with gifts from donors like you. I had heard about OCC, but meeting a few of the children who had received the gifts and seeing how much they cherished them made the whole concept very real to me. Since then, filling OCC shoeboxes has become a family tradition. It’s such an easy way to give. It’s a tangible and fun way to teach charitable giving to our kids. And these boxes actually do end up in the hands of children across the world who otherwise wouldn’t get any gifts at Christmas.

Samaritan’s Purse also has a Christmas Gift Catalog. This is a fantastic way to donate towards a specific cause that you are personally passionate about. You can give towards medical supplies, disaster relief, clean water, anti-trafficking, orphan care, school construction, mosquito nets…  You can give just because you want to, or you can give in honour of someone else. This is an awesome Christmas gift idea – for those people on your list who don’t need more stuff, and for all the teachers/coaches/mailmen etc. who probably don’t want another mug filled with chocolate.

There are a few big charities that do this catalog idea, and there are certainly pros and cons to these types of fundraising campaigns. However, we have compared several of them and Samaritan’s Purse is our chosen winner. We like their integrity in the high percentage of donated money that goes directly to the ministry that it was intended for.

Now that you’ve done all your Christmas shopping, let’s move onto this very cool business loan organization. Kiva is “a non-profit organization with a mission to connect people through lending to alleviate poverty.” You are the lender. You register an account and deposit as little as $25 into it. Then you look through the pages of borrowers and choose one that you want to lend your $25 to. Borrowers are small-business owners around the world who need a boost to grow their business so they can better provide for themselves and their families. The needs are pretty simple:  some extra sewing supplies or a cow or upgrading their store shelving or hiring a worker. A realistic repayment schedule is in place for each borrower, and as they repay, it goes back into your kiva account. When you regain your $25, you can loan it to someone else. It’s a great way to help someone out with very little risk and expense.

Maybe you’re looking for a smaller (more personal) organization to support on an ongoing basis. Maybe you have an insatiable compassion for orphans, but the world-wide needs are too overwhelming and you don’t know where to start. Here are two ministries that I love.

We visited Embracing Hope Ethiopia on our most recent trip to Ethiopia last Christmas.  There is so much I could say about how great their work is and all that they’re doing, but I just wouldn’t do them justice. Please visit the website and browse around. All I can add is that they are legit and they are passionately in love with the beautiful people they serve.

God’s Littlest Angels is an orphanage in Haiti. I haven’t visited it personally, but I did research this ministry extensively when it was looking like our church might send a team there a couple of years ago. I have since kept tabs on how things are going as they continue to rescue and care for orphans. Haiti is still in very desperate need since the earthquake. Thousands of people are still living in tent cities (also called rape camps) without clean water, sufficient food, or adequate clothing and shelter. GLA is just one of hundreds of organizations making a daily difference there, but it’s one that I’ve looked into and I’m confident in recommending them to you.

Perhaps you are looking for an organization that is fighting a bold fight against sex trafficking. Ratanak is just the thing you’re looking for! Their work in Cambodia is inspiring, challenging, dangerous, life-saving and still insufficient in the face of such ongoing, unspeakable injustice. Please consider partnering with them in some way.

A little bit closer to home (but not close enough for my liking) is PAXnorth, an urban church plant in Halifax, Nova Scotia, pastored by our best friends, Brad and Shelby Somers. You can browse around their website and see what they’re up to. You can well imagine (or maybe you can’t, so I’ll just tell you), when your congregation is filled with people who are living in poverty, there isn’t much in the offering plate each week. God always provides in other ways to meet the church’s needs and to allow them to keep serving homeless people, drug addicts, prostitutes, teen moms, abused kids etc. If you would like to be one of those “other ways”, you can email info@paxnorth.ca and ask how you can make a donation.

In a completely different vein (heh heh, that’s funny. Keep reading.), let’s talk about blood donation and other such things.  If you are a healthy adult, you should be giving blood. It’s free and it saves lives. And you get cookies and juice. Go to www.blood.ca to get started. Next, you should be an organ donor. Just because you’ve signed that little form that comes with your driver’s license doesn’t mean you are a registered organ donor. Go to www.beadonor.ca to make sure you are registered. (Edit: This website is for residents of Ontario. If you live elsewhere, a quick google search will help you figure out where to register.)

One more thing: have you ever considered stem cell or bone marrow donation? My best friend’s (the aforementioned Shelby Somers) 8-year-old niece was diagnosed with leukemia two weeks ago. They haven’t been talking bone marrow transplants for her yet, but my mind immediately leapt to that. What if it was my child? I would want to already be on the donor list. What if it’s not my child but I’m still a possible match for someone else? I want to already be on the donor list. So I registered online, had a quick phone interview to discuss a couple of past medical issues, received my Buccal Swab Kit in the mail, swabbed my mouth, and sent back my DNA for them to keep on file. Rest assured, if I ever do get chosen as a possible match, I will recount every single detail for you! In the meantime, I am so excited at the possibility. You should do it, too. Tell them I sent you.

Well folks, if you’re still reading – bless you. And I’m sorry. Sorry for boring you and sorry that you were already bored enough to just keep reading. Regardless, there’s my list as it stands right now. If you have had positive or negative experiences with any of my favourites, please share. And if you’d like to add some of your own favourites, you go right ahead and start typing away in that little comments box below.

P.S. Did you notice that I finally figured out how to imbed the websites into my text? I feel another round of lavish self-praise coming on!

 

The Purpose Driven Wife (and mother)

Oy, that is probably the world’s cheesiest title, and it’s probably been done before. Nevertheless, it’s the best I can do at the moment and so it shall stay.

Today we’re talking about intentionality. Living with purpose. Making the best with what we’ve got. You probably get the idea. But I’m going to expand upon it anyway, because if I left it at that, this post would be nothing more than a cheesy title. I must rise to the challenge of giving you some food for thought. Some food other than cheese, that is.

In case any of you have just emerged from living under a rock (or living without wifi – same thing), allow me to fill you in on some history-making news from this week. There’s this guy, Felix Baumgartner, who free-fell from a space pod at the edge of the stratosphere. That’s approximately a crapzillion feet up – pretty much as far up as you can go and still have gravity (which, I guess is a requirement in the whole free-falling thing). You are by now amazed at my technical expertise on the subject, but let me astound you a wee bit more by clearing up a slight misnomer. Everyone is saying he “jumped”. I’ve seen the footage, folks. He really just let himself fall. That’s not jumping. But I digress.

Felix Baumgartner has made a name for himself. People will recognize him for the rest of his life. People will recognize his name and remember his stamp on history. As a professional daredevil, he has built his career and achieved something big. It’s not the same dream that I have, but I do have to at least admire the cool factor of his claim to fame. (I personally have a dream to become a professional spa critic, so if any of you readers out there are spa owners, please feel free to fly me to any worldwide location, give me the royal treatment for a couple of days – I must be thorough, after all – and I will be honoured to write up a professional critique of services rendered. Oops. I digress again.)

I am impressed with Mr. Baumgartner’s determination to work towards this stunt and see it through. The advancements that he and his team have made in scientific development and space travel are to be commended. They are not advancements that I care deeply about on a personal level, but I’m not going to criticize his choices and goals.

I hold less admiration for a few other “celebrities” whose claims to fame really make me shake my head in bewilderment. I’m looking at you, Snooki and Honey Boo Boo. (I know, I know. Sometimes life is overwhelming and our minds need a little vacation. That’s evident enough in half my posts. But if Honey Boo Boo is your particular escape of choice, we can no longer be friends.)

Let us also consider those who will forever be remembered for that one very stupid decision. I’m looking at you, Monica Lewinsky.

And of course there are others who have dedicated their entire lives to something unfathomably useless. I’m looking at you, Madame Tussaud.

None of these ladies’ priorities make sense to me. How do they wake up each day and say, “This is the best that I can do with the life that I’ve been given”? But my dumbfoundedness at their decisions and my awe for Mr. Baumgartner’s history-making stunt both serve to make me examine my own life.

I am sure I’m not alone when I ask, “Is my life worthwhile? Am I doing something purposeful with the limited time that I have on this earth?”  It is so easy to let days, weeks, and then years go by in complacency while we look ahead to the great things that we’ll do after we get married, after we start a family, after our kids are grown, after retirement… But that’s not good enough for me. I want my time to count right now.

I am an at-home mom and sometimes that feels more like drudgery than brilliant breakthroughs. I don’t always feel like I’m accomplishing anything worthwhile when I’m at home washing laundry. But instead of wallowing in self-pity, I choose to do my best with what I have in each season of my life. My schedule has fluctuated through the years. At various stages of my motherhood, I have had more and less time to commit to community service and I have had more and less money to donate to worthy causes. But the consistency lies in looking for ways that I can do my best with what I have right now.

Eight years ago, I had two preschoolers at home, but I had plenty of time on my hands to volunteer with an AIDS awareness organization. Six years ago, we had flexibility in our location and career demands, so we moved to Ethiopia to work in an HIV/AIDS clinic. Five years ago, we had a stable home and healthy family so we offered to share that with two Ethiopian children who desperately needed exactly that. Four years ago, I had a mother-in-law who wanted to spend weekly time with our last pre-schooler so I had time to volunteer at our local pregnancy centre. One year ago we had a wide-open future, ministry-wise, so we connected with a group of people who were planting a new church in a poor area of a nearby city.

I want to do my very best with what I have right now. That includes how we spend our money. I am not the breadwinner of the family, but I am the one who does most of the shopping. I have the power to make a difference – or at the very least, make a statement – with where our money goes. How can I do my very best with that responsibility?  I can make sure I’m not a blind, mindless consumer.

Here is an interesting article on child  labour in the chocolate industry’s supply chain. http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2012/10/the-inconvenient-truth-about-your.html?m=1

Boycotting the big chocolate companies may not be the perfect answer, but this is worth discussing. It is worth looking into further. It is worth being more mindful about what chocolate I buy. The same can be said for what coffee I buy, what shoes I buy, what jeans I buy etc.

This article is also worth some deep consideration. http://www.laborrights.org/creating-a-sweatfree-world/ethical-consumerism/news/11434#.UHwvKqYcB_c.facebook I know it’s several years old, so some things may have changed in the meantime. I want to know about those changes. I want to know if companies that I am supporting are doing harm or good in the world with the dollars that I have sent their way.

I have been vocal in other forums about my disgust with Sears Canada’s promotion of pornographic branding towards teen and tween girls in their Christmas Wishbook. I will be vocal about it here as well. I have made my opinion known to Sears Canada and I choose to back it up by not shopping there until they change their stance on this issue. It may or may not make a difference, but it’s something that I can do with what I’ve got.

My husband and I arrange our budget so that we can support various organizations that are doing great work in Canada and around the world. We can’t give a lot, but what we can give, we want to be used with integrity. We want our money to meet the needs of sick, marginalized or impoverished people – not to pad the pockets of CEO’s and other uppity-ups working in the western offices of charities that then put a smaller percentage towards the needs of the actual needy people. Here’s a great website for checking up on how Canadian charities spend their money: http://www.cra-arc.gc.ca/chrts-gvng/lstngs/menu-eng.html

I hope this triggers a few ideas of how you can do your very best with what you’ve got right now. If you’re looking for some specific causes that you can support or advocate for, I plan on sharing some of my favourites with you in my next post.

In the meantime, I will be free-falling into my favourite reality vacation, Survivor. Don’t judge me.

 

GO-YA!

Okay, I took a little flack for shooting off my mouth (uh…fingers?) in my previous post. Not much, but the gist of it was this: “It’s not right for you – with you and your husband both in leadership positions – to be so critical of the church without first discussing it privately with the pastor.” I agree with that, but I think it’s missing the point of what I was trying to say. I am critical of the general church culture that seems to permeate most of North America; I wasn’t trying to specifically point an accusing finger at our church.

Sure, there are some things that I don’t necessarily agree with, but my opinion on what should be done or how things should be done is way, way down the priority list when it comes to functioning as a body. Way, way up on the priority list is the fact that I love our pastors and elders, I respect their leadership, and I choose to honour their authority over me even if I sometimes have different preferences about stuff. If I do get to a point where something gets so out of whack that I absolutely have to say something, please rest assured that I will do it privately.

I am not here to be a critic or to stir up dissent. My heart is to be a cheerleader for the steps that we’re taking towards deeper community involvement. In fact, I already have a cheer: GO-YA! It happens to stand for “Get Off Your (begging your pardon) Ackside!” Okay, okay, I’m not going to actually cheer that at someone else. I use it on myself. For other people, I’ll probably stick with something a little nicer, like, “Let’s go! We can do it!”

We’re involved in a new church plant and it’s been exciting to meet with community services people to see what the needs are and to begin strategizing towards helping to meet some of those needs. The impulsive part of me is frustrated that we can’t just hit the ground running, but I do recognize the wisdom in surveying the area and building intentional partnerships with organizations that are already in the community. I’m excited to see how those relationships unfold and what we as a family and we as a church body will be doing a few months from now and a few years from now.

In the meantime, it’s time to put my money where my pie-hole is. If I want to cheer others on towards making a difference in their neighbourhood and building relationships with the people around them, I need to stop making excuses for not knowing my neighbours. Hey, we live in the country, so it’s not like we can just chat over the fence or strike up a conversation when we pass on the sidewalk. Wait – enough excuses!

I know that our closest neighbour took over the farm when his mom passed away, but that’s all I know about him. So today I made him a strawberry pie. Pat and Levi took it over to him. He also has chickens, so that was an easy conversational start. This is the beginning. We’re planning to host a ‘neighbourhood’ barbecue later in the summer. GO-YA!

 

Holy Tension, Batman

God is messing me up. He has sent a fiery, sword-wielding angel to me. Her name is Jen Hatmaker and the sword she wields is her book 7: an experimental mutiny against excess. It is brilliant and convicting and challenging. Oh, and hilarious. People, if you like my sense of humour at all, you will love Jen Hatmaker. You will want to kidnap her and give her a throne in your living room.  Just promise you’ll let me visit her – I mean, you – every single day.

I have been feeling a growing tension. I’ve fought it and ignored it and argued with it, but it’s breathing down the back of my neck and I can’t make it stop. It’s a holy tension, which means it’s not going to go away. And even if I muster up the audacity to stifle it, the repercussions would be disastrous.

I’ve spent my life in a church culture that is all about excellence. Whatever programs we provide, whatever shows we put on, whatever components we incorporate into our Sunday morning service, it all must be done with excellence. Excellence brings more glory to God, you know.

Now I’m not against doing things well. I know the Bible says to work at everything we do with all our hearts. And when I’m on stage, I desperately hope that I don’t screw up so badly that everyone in the audience is completely distracted and turned off by my bumbling. But I’ve been growing more and more concerned with the amount of time, energy and money that is being poured into attractional ministry (programs that are designed to attract people to the church building) to the neglect of incarnational ministry (becoming the hands and feet of Christ by serving people outside the church).

When we look at the number of times Jesus exhorts us to serve the poor, rescue orphans, defend widows, feed the hungry, visit prisoners etc., versus how often he tells us to provide excellent programs for people who are already saved, and then we compare that to today’s church structure – our schedules and our budgets – it just doesn’t match.

I love my church. I love that it’s full of warm, friendly people. I love the worship and the preaching. And I have both consumed and helped to provide a lot of the excellent programs over the years. But I am desperately afraid that we’re missing the whole point of church.

Enter Jen Hatmaker. (And her husband, Brandon Hatmaker. I’m still in the middle of his book, Barefoot Church, and it, too, is confirming the shake-up that God is doing in my heart.) But for right now, I want to quote from 7 (sorry, this particular section isn’t side-splittingly funny):

What would the early church think if they walked into some of our buildings today, looked through our church websites, talked to an average attender? Would they be so confused? Would they wonder why we all had empty bedrooms and uneaten food in our trash cans? Would they regard our hoarded wealth with shock? Would they observe orphan statistics with disbelief since Christians outnumber orphans 7 to 1? Would they be stunned most of us don’t feed the hungry, visit the prisoner, care for the sick, or protect the widow? Would they see the spending on church buildings and ourselves as extravagantly wasteful while twenty-five thousand people die every day from starvation?

I think they’d barely recognize us as brothers and sisters. If we told them church is on Sundays and we have an awesome band, this would be perplexing. I believe we’d receive dumbfounded stares if we discussed “church shopping” because enough people don’t say hello when we walk in the lobby one hour a week. If they found out one-sixth of the earth’s population claimed to be Christians, I’m not sure they could reconcile the suffering happening on our watch while we’re living in excess. They’d wonder if we had read the Bible or worry it had been tampered with since their time.

But listen Early Church, we have a monthly event called Mocha Chicks. We have choir practice every Wednesday. We organize retreats with door prizes. We’re raising three million dollars for an outdoor amphitheater. We have catchy T-shirts. We don’t smoke or say the F word. We go to Bible study every semester. (“And then what, American Church?”) Well, we go to another one. We’re learning so much.

I think the early church would cover their heads with ashes and grieve over the dilution of Jesus’ beautiful church vision. We’ve taken His Plan A for mercy to an injured lost planet and neutered it to clever sermon series and Stitch-and-Chat in the Fellowship Hall, serving the saved. If the modern church held to its biblical definition, we would become the answer to all that ails society. We wouldn’t have to baby-talk and cajole and coax people into our sanctuaries through witty mailers and strategic ads; they’d be running to us. The local church would be the heartbeat of the city, undeniable by our staunchest critics.

 

A couple of weeks ago we had communion together and I was to pray for the bread before we partook. I’m not really one to rehearse prayers, so I didn’t mentally make this connection until it was tumbling out of my mouth in front of the congregation (which is why it may not have sounded very coherent at the time, but it was incredibly moving for me). I prayed over the bread, which is a symbol of Christ’s body broken for us. And then all of a sudden I was praying for us – the church, the body of Christ – asking that we would be broken for Him. How can we truly remember the sacrifice that He made in offering up His body in exchange for our very lives, while trying to contain today’s body of Christ all neat and pristine inside the sanctuary walls? We need to be broken, too.

We can’t be the body of Christ without tangibly ministering to the hurting people around us. And we can’t minister to the hurting people around us if our time and money are consumed by putting on excellent programs.

What does this mean for me and my family? I’m not completely sure yet. But I hope it means that the church plant we’re helping to launch gets launched in this direction. I hope this holy tension continues to build so we won’t fall into the trap of complacency. I hope we can get out there and try different things and get messy and make mistakes – at the risk of marring our ‘excellence’. I hope we can be real and flawed and inadequate and still be Jesus and salt and a light on a hill. I hope that we can be Christ’s body, broken for Him.

 

Minors and Missions FAQ ~ Part Two

Today’s questions continue to address issues surrounding travelling with children. However, the information presented here is vital to anyone considering short-term missions – not just families with small children. So take note and/or pass it on.

How do I prepare my kids for experiencing another culture?

1. Go online. Learn about the place you’ll be visiting. Look at pictures of what people wear, what the buildings and houses and streets look like, what the food looks like, what people look like. If the language is different from your own, learn a few basic phrases. Learn some statistical information: population, climate, agriculture. Learn a bit about the religions, politics, history and economics. Does that seem like a lot of work for a mere two weeks there? Too bad. If you think you can serve graciously and humbly without knowing anything about the people you’re serving, you are in for a nasty surprise. At best, you’ll embarrass yourselves and your hosts. At worst, your ignorance (which may come across as racism and superiority) will offend and infuriate the people you’re supposed to be embracing with God’s love. Good luck with that.
2. Eat. If you can find a restaurant that serves food from where you’ll be working, go there. Sample different dishes. Ask your server about manners and cultural expectations surrounding meals. What you learn may contradict what your mother taught you and what you have spent years trying to teach your children. Now you may have to adjust your meal-time rules about cleaning your plate, eating with your hands, belching and saying ‘thank you’. And even if you can’t find the right cultural restaurant, you should still make your children practice sampling foods they’re not used to. Yes, I’m saying you need to make your children eat food they don’t like. I’m not saying they need to force down a full platter of fried grasshoppers, raw squid and monkey brains. But they really need to practice eating a few bites, smiling, and graciously thanking their providers. If they (and you) can get through that, then it’s much more acceptable for you to excuse yourself from eating the rest of the meal by explaining that your stomach is a little upset from travelling, or that you’re not used to such spicy food, or that you’ve had several social engagements and you are very full. But please, for the love of donuts, do not let your darling munchkins scream, “GROSS!!!” while they fling their plates away and dry-heave behind both palms pressed firmly across their mouths. If they can fake their way through a few bites, then as soon as you’re out of sight of your hosts, they can devour the Fruit Roll-Ups and Ringolos that you have wisely stashed in your backpack for such a time as this.
3. If you can find out some cultural do’s and don’ts ahead of time, then do some role-playing with your children. Practice age- and gender-appropriate greetings, including handshakes, bows, eye contact (or not) etc. Practice not showing excitement over every single little thing that you see in a market stall. Practice how to react when a beggar approaches you or when strangers want to touch your blond hair or white skin. You may even need to practice peeing outside without sacrificing all modesty. (My apologies to your neighbours if your yard isn’t adequately private.)

How can we be a blessing to our hosts?

Let’s face it. Short-term mission trips are largely about the travellers, not the host missionaries or the nationals. The benefits to you as short-termers vastly outweigh the benefits to the people you’re going to serve. That’s just reality. Whatever work you’re going to do could probably be done by locals, in a fraction of the time or at a fraction of the cost, and without all the hassle of hosting a short-term team. There are still benefits to both parties, though, which is why the practice of short-terming lives on. However, you need to be very realistic about how much work your hosts have to do in order to make your experience positive. It’s a lot. It’s more than what you think. And then some. So, doggone-it, you’d better bless their socks off in return!

Here are a few suggestions to get you started:

• Bring presents. At least half of your team/family’s luggage should be filled with stuff to give away. Chocolate, cheese, kids’ cereals, Sweet Chili Heat Doritos, maple syrup… Ask your hosts ahead of time what kind of treats they miss and if there’s anything they need. Maybe they don’t have access to decent dental floss or tampons (just keeping it real here, folks) or duct tape. Maybe you can pick up a few seasons of TV shows that they miss. Maybe they just want to see some current magazines. Ask, and then bring more than what they suggest. Be outrageously generous, and guilt – uh, I mean, kindly request – the people around you to donate to this cause as well.

• Be generous. This may sound like I’m repeating the same point, but it’s more than just gifts. Pay for parking for whoever picked you up at the airport. If you eat at a restaurant with your hosts, pay for their meal. If their house worker does some of your laundry, cover her salary for the week. Buy extra supplies or make a donation to the ministries that are near and dear to their hearts. At the end of your trip, if you have leftover funds from your budget, give the money to them.

• Be respectful of your host family’s routine and limited resources. Remember that they have full-time responsibilities PLUS looking after you; they don’t get to stop doing all the kajillion and twelve things that fill up their normal days just because you are in town.  Make no assumptions on their time, resources, availability or space. Let me be more specific:
  • Do not assume that your host’s vehicle is at your disposal. They may actually have other places they have to go. Ask them to help you rent a car or use public transit. And if they do drive you around, insist on paying for gas and mileage.
  • Do not linger late into the night. I am so guilty of this one, and it’s especially hard when you’re already good friends with your hosts. But try to be disciplined – for your sake, for your children’s sake, for their sake and for their children’s sake. Just say good-night and get some sleep.
  • Please, oh please, oh please, do not ask your hosts to babysit for you. If there is some vital team function that you must attend without children, you could ask your hosts to recommend a babysitter. But I cannot state this emphatically enough: don’t just drop your kids off for Mama Missionary to parent while you go gallivanting about the country.

As I said, these are suggestions to get you started. They’re not rules. Here are the rules: Be flexible. Be creative. Be generous.

If you say to me, “But my hosts told me I don’t have to do all that,” then I will respond, “Of course they did. They are missionaries. Their lifelong occupation is all about being gracious and sacrificial. So do it anyway. What’s the worst that can happen? They don’t like Sweet Chili Heat Doritos? Please.”

 

Minors and Missions FAQ ~ Part One

Despite how mean I am (see previous post), my children have enjoyed the benefit of being able to do some travelling in their short lives. Exotic vacations to tropical locales? Not so much. Short-term mission trips? Yup. Short on glamour and long on serving others. So there I go being all mean again. Whatever. It’s still a pretty cool and rare experience for pre-teens.

People often ask how we have managed to do this, so I thought it might be of interest to you. (See? I’m not mean. I’m thoughtful!) Here are some of the frequently asked questions (plus some of the questions that people should also ask).

How could I ever afford to take my children on a mission trip?

The first time we took our kids on a two-week mission trip to Ethiopia, we had to foot most of the bill. Ouch. But it wasn’t all bad news. Because we were being sent by a legitimate charitable organization, we were able to raise funds to cover our team’s expenses. People who donated towards the trip got a tax receipt for their donation, and we were able to put those donations towards plane tickets, meals, lodging and supplies for the work that we were going to do.  Although our children tagged along and we expected them to contribute to the work of the team, they were not technically considered ‘team members’, so we had to cover their costs personally. Yes, that’s a big chunk of money, but it helped considerably that at least we didn’t have to pay for my husband’s and my expenses.

The next time we went to Ethiopia was a slightly different situation. We had been in process to move there long-term and had already begun fundraising towards that end. When our plans abruptly changed, we decided it would be good for us to go for another two-week stint. We contacted all of our donors and asked what they would like us to do with the money they had already given towards our long-term plans; everyone was supportive of us using that money for our short-term trip. We had enough to cover all of our expenses. Plus, by this time our three older kids were old enough to more fully participate in team responsibilities, so we felt more confident justifying their expenses to our donors and our sending church.

My third real-life example is another different circumstance. This trip was to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and we were going to support our friends who pastor an urban church plant there. Because we weren’t flying overseas, and because they were able to get us a great deal on a month’s stay at a nearby hotel, our expenses were quite reasonable. This is the kind of family mission trip that may be the most feasible for people interested in doing such a thing.

The bottom line is this: you have to be prepared to pay their way. It may mean choosing missions over a vacation, but hey, you’ll still get cool family photos and awesome stories to tell when you get back.

What is the point of taking my children on a mission trip?

We had several reasons for wanting our children to be involved in missions. It was important to us that our kids gain a global perspective from an early age. We wanted them to understand that the world is so much bigger than the tiny bubble we live in, and that very little of it (dare I say none of it!) is focused on us as individuals. We wanted our kids to be exposed to poverty and disease and brokenness so they could develop a deeper gratitude for provision and health and wholeness. We wanted our children to embrace cultural and racial differences. Lastly, cultivating servant hearts is a priority for our family and we believe that our kids need to see us serving and also have opportunities to serve.

How old should my children be to go on a mission trip?

I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule about this. One large factor that might help you decide is the extreme change in sleeping patterns. There may be jet lag, missed naps, late nights, early mornings, uncomfortable beds and strange night noises. If your child isn’t old enough to “suck it up” through most of that (within reason, of course; even adults sometimes need to excuse themselves for a nap), then perhaps you need to wait a year or two.

The type of work that you’re going to do is another large factor. (See next question.)

You also need to carefully evaluate the reasons for taking them in the first place. If they’re not old enough to benefit from the experience (regarding cultural awareness and servant attitudes etc.) then it may be best to wait. Bear in mind that culture shock can be a very difficult thing to process in a healthy way. Your children need to be able to articulate their feelings and reactions. They don’t necessarily need to understand all their feelings, but they at least need to be able to say, “I feel sad because that family doesn’t have a home” or “I don’t like it when all of these strangers try to touch my hair.” If the extent of your child’s communication skills is to scream “No!” at every new experience or “Mine!” for everything they want, then I guarantee that your trip will not be a positive experience – for you, your child, or your hosts.

How can I involve my children in the mission trip?

This, of course, depends on the ages and abilities of your children, as well as the kind of work your family is going to do on the mission field. (You would be wise to steer clear of construction projects and medical trips. You’re welcome.) On our Ethiopia trips, our teams provided child care for a missionary conference. Our children have had training and experience working with toddlers and preschoolers at church, so it was an easy role for them to help with overseas. They were able to help in almost every aspect of the program and basic child care.

Where should we start?

Mission trips are not a spur-of-the-moment thing, and with a family it takes even more preparation and planning. If this is something you are considering for some time in the future, you can start now by getting your kids involved in local ministry. Help them develop serving skills by including them as much as possible in various roles at church and in the community. We were very blessed that our church provides a training program for middle-school aged kids, allowing them to work in various ministries throughout the church. Our children took shifts in the toddler room and in the preschool classes, they worked in the library, they served as ushers, they cleaned up craft supplies after Sunday School, and they bussed tables at church dinners.

We were also intentional about occasionally having our kids involved in community service. I volunteered at our local pregnancy centre on a weekly basis, but a couple of times a year, I was able to bring my kids in to sort donated clothes or help give the centre a thorough cleaning. When our life group volunteered to sort supplies and build new shelves for the food bank, our kids were there. When we served Christmas dinner at a community centre, our kids were there.

Instilling an attitude of servanthood in your kids is a life choice. It is absolutely essential for mission service, but it needs to be incorporated into your regular schedule well before that. Your children need to see you joyfully serving the people around you. And they need to feel valued as worthwhile contributors from a very early age.

 

I have more to say on the subject, but I think I’ll break this into two parts. I know you’ll be breathless with anticipation until my next post. It’s just like when you’re on the edge of your seat, hyperventilating with excitement over what’s about to happen on your favourite TV show, and then the credits start to roll. Yup. It’s exactly like that.

 

Adventures In Urban Church Planting

This post is not a deeply theological dissertation filled with my expert advice on the proper ways to make your church plant thrive. And I’ll tell you why. You know that lady who has one kid and that kid is two months old and that lady can talk for four days straight about all of her brilliant wisdom pertaining to every aspect of child-rearing from Perfectly Pleasant Pottying to Parenting your Pre-Pubescent Poltergeist? Yeah, you know someone like that. And every time she opens her mouth, you want to release your inner Mr. Miyagi on her.

I don’t want to be her.

We’re only a couple of months into the church-planting journey, so I have no wisdom, no advice, and certainly no expertise.  I’m simply writing about how we got to where we are right now and to express my deep appreciation and encouragement to others in the church planting biz.

My first real exposure to the whole urban planting thing was through our very dear friends, Brad and Shelby Somers, who were sent by our home church in Ontario to start a church in Halifax, Nova Scotia. We were living in Ethiopia at the time, so we weren’t able to see their ministry first-hand until a couple of years later. We communicated frequently, and saw lots of pictures, so by the time we got to spend a month with them in 2009, we had a pretty good idea of what to expect.

What we saw was poverty, racism, homelessness,  substance abuse, broken families, prostitution, gang violence, and heartbreak.  But hovering around and amidst those things – diffusing them, dispelling them, and healing them – we saw generosity, compassion, forgiveness, kindness, warmth, and love. Inexplicable, heart-level, embracing-through-the-filth kind of love.

That was the body of Christ at work. And we wanted in on it.

We prayed and made sure God was fully aware of our availability. We gently reminded Him that we’d done our time in overseas missions. We explored the city. We attended and helped with a variety of church functions. I started looking at houses online. We just needed the go-ahead from the Lord. Cue crickets chirping.

Our incredible month there ended. We bawled our fool heads off when it was time to go. (Well, Shelby and I bawled our fool heads off. Pat and Brad fist-bumped and cleared their throats and passed us the Kleenex.) We drove home to Ontario and waited for God to tell us to move to Halifax.

Jump ahead to spring of 2011. God had moved us in a completely different direction. We were all set to return to Ethiopia as long-term missionaries. We were less than 4 months away from our departure date when God suddenly closed that door. Again with the bawling my fool head off – only this time, it was for days. I was a wreck. When our pastor got my email and phoned to see what he could do, I asked him to stop the world. Stupid request, I know, but all I could think was that I really needed everything to just stop and give me a second!

Within a few days, we met with our pastor to talk through the changes we were facing. (I’m sure he was immensely relieved that my hiccupping, sobbing, gasping-for-breath crying had stopped.) “I think the timing of this could turn out to be very interesting,” he said. “There’s this family I think you should meet.”

That family turned out to be James and Karen Bast and their two young children. They were in the early planning stages of a church plant in Guelph, which was to be a satellite site of our home church in Cambridge. We were immediately interested.

We met with James and Karen several times over the next few months and our relationship was very easy right from the start. The itch to work with them in this new venture was very compelling. However, we also felt like the mounting drama in our family (see this post about that if you missed it before: https://ineedanewman.wordpress.com/2012/04/12/the-tough-stuff/) required some focused attention. Perhaps the distraction of a new, intense ministry would be detrimental to our family health.

With that in mind, we tried to stay on the periphery of the planning and strategizing for the church plant. That was hard to do. But the waiting was good for our family, and it was good for the church. Apparently, (brace yourself for this. It’s big news) if I were to jump in and snatch up every job that needed to be done, I would take those roles away from other people who don’t actually suck at them! AND I would be so overwhelmed, busy and burned out that I wouldn’t be halfway capable of fulfilling the roles that God meant for me to do. Imagine that!

I held back for nine or ten months, not getting fully involved, not committing to any big responsibilities. Just observing, praying and waiting. It was pretty cool to watch God gather together a team of seemingly random, disconnected people to form what is now a cohesive unit.

Sunday mornings are a lot of work. My husband is the facilities team coordinator, so he is at the school where we meet by 8 AM (often having gone to pick up the van and trailer full of our equipment on the way). He is met by a handful of eager helpers and they unload the trailer and start setting up the gym and the classrooms. Over the next hour, more helpers trickle in and get to work. The atmosphere is joyful and relaxed. So far, we’ve always had more people than necessary because we all like to be there working together. There is deep joy in serving together. And we love each other! In between putting the stage together, setting out chairs, adjusting lights and sound equipment, making coffee, arranging the children’s rooms, and all the other details, we talk and laugh and enjoy being together. It’s awesome.

Our services for the first month were just for the launch team. We practiced setting up, we ironed out some glitches in the system, and we practiced putting everything away. But now that the services have been open to the public for a couple of months, we are jumping with wild abandon into the euphoric phase of welcoming strangers to church!

And not only that, but we are adamant that being part of the body of Christ means serving and meeting the needs of people around us. Picking up garbage, building shelves for the food bank,  and serving Christmas dinner to underprivileged families is just the beginning. The core of who we are as a church is summed up neatly by our mandate: Love God, Love Others, Serve the World. That’s exciting stuff!

I can’t wait to see how God moves in Guelph. I am stoked that He lets me participate. I adore our little launch team and I am awed at the incredible individuals that God has led to the various leadership positions. Forward Church Willow rocks!!!

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