Have you ever wanted a quiet, sane moment just sipping Hot Chocolate rather than figuring out what to do next to reach unchurched folks? Or worse yet, writing another report for the Conference? Rev. Fred Decker shared an interesting graph with me recently. It’s the graph of missionary encounters as the missionary travels from uni-cultural to bi-cultural.
The missionary walks into a foreign field of mission with the eyes of someone coming from a certain culture and expectations (uni-cultural). At first, it’s a raucous adventure, almost as if they are Tarzan learning to swing from the vines!
“Tarzan,” deep within and sometimes below the conscious level, buys the story that all cultures are good and basically follow the same laws of decency and values, right? Frank said, “Well they’re brand new to this place, and we call this phase of ministry, “being a tourist”.” Operating at tourist level, they explore the outer levels of humanity and systems while peering in but not adopting or adapting with the culture.
Tourist? What will it take to be “a local”? They were called to join Jesus in bringing something new to birth. Time to move on buddy.
At some point, “Tarzan” realizes this isn’t “his” jungle anymore and he doesn’t really “call the shots” (God does) and the new “rules” can be a bitter pill to swallow. The graph begins a downward descent. The missionary “family” begins feeling the stress and pull of doing something quite different; of leaving home; of dealing with institutions and rules; of hitting obstacles and misunderstandings; of financing the operation and other day to day struggles; and sometimes, questioning if this will “really” work.
About halfway down the plummet to the point Frank calls “crisis point”, there is a bi-secting line. I think this is the line which cuts to the missionary’s (church planter’s) marrow. That line? Emphatically or quietly, it’s the same. “I want to go home.” (I want to go back to what I was doing before like Peter following the crucifixion.)
Now, that’s “text book.” Let me get personal for a minute.
I hit that line a few months ago. I think maybe our Board members did too.
I was tired of dealing with crap from the institution, of being told one thing and having actions be another. I was tired of the docks and the “life” of people whose idea of life is to party all the time. I was tired of the confined spaces and trying to figure out alternative ways to have “family times” (because most of my family seems to get seasick). Mid-summer, I was already dreading the winter and especially the wind and being stuck inside cramped quarters. I was tired. I couldn’t see much from a positive light. The mission field became overwhelming: “How am I supposed to reach all 4000 of these people? I don’t see the way.”
“I want to go home.” If you’ve been out there beyond those church walls, I’ll bet my last dollar that you’ve felt something similar.
Here’s where the Navy Seals and “hot chocolate” come in.
To last in this kind of ministry, you and I need a Navy Seals understanding of mission. I think Jesus was a Navy Seal! Do you remember how the mission and his people mattered more than his life?
After spending four days – no correction. After barely surviving the unimaginable tests of survival in the Seals Training aptly named “Hell Week” and suffering with severe hypothermia (literally close to death), the recruit was tempted by his instructor,
“‘Have a cup of this hot chocolate.’
I held it in my hand. It was warm. . . . [the instructor rationalized with me,]‘Go over there and ring that damn bell. Get this over. I’ll let you drink that hot chocolate. Put you in this warm ambulance. Wrap you up in a thick blanket. And you don’t have to put up with this anymore.’I looked over at the bell. It would be that easy. All I have to do is pull that mother three times. I thought about the heated ambulances with blankets and hot chocolate. Then I caught myself. Wait a minute. I’m not thinking clearly. That’s quitting.
“Hooyah, Instructor Stoneclam.” I gave him back his hot chocolate.
Handing him back that cup of hot chocolate was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Let me go back and freeze while I get my nuts kicked some more.” Seal Team Six: Memoirs of an Elite Navy Seal Sniper by Howard E. Wasdin & Stephen Templin, AmazonKindle version.
This Navy Seal in training learned first hand what’s said in the Bible: Once a man puts his hand to the plow, never look back. (see Luke 9:62) Move forward in belief that God is enough.
“Deprived of support in our environment and the support of our own bodies, the only thing propping us up was our belief in accomplishing the mission . . . Even when the mission seems impossible, it is the strength of our belief that makes success possible. The absence of this belief guarantees failure. . . . Believing allows us to see the goal (complete Hell Week) and break the goal down into more manageable objectives . . . Thinking too much about what happened and what is about to happen will wear you down. Live in the moment and take one step at a time.” Seal Team Six: Memoirs of an Elite Navy Seal Sniper.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (1 Corinthians 12:9, NIV) Fellow missionaries and church planters: “Hooyah.”
