When Incarnational Ministry is Hard

When you’ve been walking around in 90+ degree heat, get home, and there is no cold water to drink.   When you are woken up at 4:30 every morning when your “little brother’s” alarm goes off.  When everybody and their mother asks you why you are single and tries to find you “Mr. Right.” When you feel guilty for having the money to go to town and watch a movie.  When you are constantly asked for money, because you are white, so obviously you are rich (and compared to most people, you are).  When you feel like you will never be able to live up to the missionary who was here before you, because apparently she was perfect.  When you are walking alone and a white couple pulls over to lecture you about how it is not safe to walk alone in the township.  When you see every man approaching you or walking by you as a potential threat, no matter how hard you try not to.  When your friend, who is a single mom, looks sadly in your eyes and tells you she doesn’t believe in love anymore.  When everybody around you is speaking a language you don’t understand, and you hear your name and know they are talking about you but they refuse to tell you what they are saying.  When a 14 year old girl shrugs and mumbles that she will be alone at the institution over Christmas, because not even her extended family members will take her in.  And when you realize you have no idea how to comfort her after a lifetime of everybody who is supposed to love and care for her abandoning her.  When the music in the taxi is so loud in the speaker right behind you that you can feel it pounding in your head-for an hour ride.  When you visit someone’s house and they expect you to eat cow intestine.  When the little girl next door is nearly kidnapped and you realize there is crime all around you.   When conversations seem to grind to a halt due to your own introvertedness and the other person’s limited English proficiency.  When people keep admonishing you to be safe and you want to cry out “since when is following Jesus safe?!!”  Ask the early disciples and church fathers.

 

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.  The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer; he enables me to go on to the heights.”  Habakkuk 3:17-19

*In case any of you were concerned I was painting too rosy a picture of incarnational ministry.  I believe in incarnational ministry (part 2 coming soon), but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

Why I Believe in Incarnational Ministry, Part I

“What on earth are you doing?” said I to the monkey

when I saw him lift a fish from the water and place it on a tree.

“I’m saving it from drowning,” was the reply.

--Anthony de Mello, The Song of the Bird

Many people asked Petunia what they can do to help the kids she ministers among, and she never knew how to answer.  One day she asked the kids what they wanted.  They didn’t ask for food, or shoes, or toys even.  They said they wanted to learn to speak English well.  When she asked them what they would choose between two pieces of KFC (South Africans loooooove KFC-there’s even one in the township) and English classes, they said they would choose English classes.  Too often people might enter the township, see these kids running around without shoes, and decide to buy them shoes.  But these kids see all their friends around them without shoes, and they are fine.  The thought doesn’t even cross their minds that they should be wearing shoes, and they would regard such a gift as something frivolous and unnecessary.  Why do I believe in incarnational ministry?  Because I think too many organizations come to a community, and without getting to know the people implement programs to address what they perceive are their needs.  When you don’t listen to people articulate their own needs and desires, you run the risk of being like the monkey-having the best intentions but hurting those you intend to help, or at best simply being irrelevant.   

Instead of entering a community, buying a bunch of shoes to give away, and then leaving patting ourselves on the back for having done something for the poor, we are getting to know the community as friends and neighbors.  By living with them, celebrating and suffering with them we earn their trust and learn what it is they really need.  Only then can we begin to address those needs.  While I am sometimes impatient to start implementing amazing programs that will transform the community, I realize that I don’t really know where to start yet.  It is only by learning from my friends and neighbors that I can begin to understand what they do need.

Right now, this means that I must focus on meeting and knowing my neighbors.  It means that I must go to the safehouse for orphans and abused children and just hang out with them and befriend them.  It means that there is value in spending time running around outside with the kids in my neighborhood.  While there may be things I can be doing in the meantime, I believe my primary calling is to simply be here.  Jesus said that if you believe in him, “streams of living water will flow from within.”  If I truly have faith that those streams are flowing, then I must believe that simply living here among the people is, in some small miraculous way, bringing new life to the community; that when they look at me and interact with me they can see Jesus.  In that case, even before participating in any programs or “community development” I am making a difference-I am bringing Jesus to those around me.  I figure if Jesus spent 30 years learning and integrating into a community before beginning ministry, I can take some time to take a posture of learning myself; then see where it will lead.

P.S. That’s not to belittle or undervalue those who feel called to buy the shoes.  There is nothing wrong with wanting to give to the poor-the Bible repeatedly encourages believers to give generously.  What is important is to make sure that your giving addresses real needs.  Thus, the givers and those who work among the poor can work together to make sure the giving is most effective. 

A South African Wedding

I experienced my first South African wedding!  Here weddings are a community event-everybody helps and everybody participates.  Friday night before the wedding we had a bunch of women over baking cookies for hours.  I have never seen so many cookies before.  Luc and Petunia were out of town, so I was hanging out with our next door neighbor Ellen.  Saturday morning by 8 am we were over at the house where the wedding was taking place (two doors down), chopping vegetables and preparing chicken.  All the mommas and grandmas were so excited to have a lekoa (white person) there, and wearing one of their aprons and chopping vegetables with them to boot.  It was actually a lot of fun (and a lot of work) getting to know people as I worked alongside them.  

One of the grandmas insisted I run back to the house to get my camera.  She then proceeded to take me around having me pose for pictures so that I could show people back home what South African weddings are like.  She had me pose stirring the pots and doing work.  After each picture she would say, “See?  You are not far from home!  This is your home!”  It was so touching to have a group of people embrace me so fully without even knowing me.  They made lunch for people who were helping out-cow intestine and porridge.  One bite (and the horrible stench) was enough to convince me I never want to eat that again.  Thankfully I got away with not eating it because there were so many people around and so much chopping to do.  :)

Around 3:30 the bride and groom arrived.  They dance down the street with their wedding party, apparently to show off to any ex-boyfriends and girlfriends that they are now married.  After a bunch of speeches and some food, the wedding party went off to change.  The bride and her bridesmaid change into the bride’s tribal outfits, and the groom and his groomsmen into the groom’s tribal outfits.  They then march down the street again and do typical dances.  Everybody marches around them singing and cheering.  It was so much fun!  I’ve posted pictures and videos on my Facebook page. 

Normally the party apparently goes until late, but by 7 PM most of the wedding people were leaving.  No worries though, because the bride’s brother was having a birthday party immediately after the wedding-so they just kept the sound equipment and started it up again.  South African’s are all about house music, so they were blaring that all night long.  Exhausted after not getting much sleep the two nights before, I went home at 10 thinking I would lie in bed sleepless for hours.  Instead I passed out and had a great night’s sleep.  There’s a wedding a week from this Sunday, so I’m excited to experience another one!

A day in the life of Julie

Went to the city all by myself yesterday!  It was very empowering.  I went on Monday with my teammate Jeremy to watch a movie ($2.45 for a movie, can’t beat that!), so I felt like I could manage on my own this time.  I did, and didn’t get lost once!  Unfortunately the reason for my going wasn’t so cool.  We had a craaaaazy thunderstorm here on Sunday night, and while my computer itself was not plugged in, I left the a/c adaptor plugged in and it got fried, so my computer wouldn’t recharge anymore.  Thankfully I was able to find one in the city that works, though it cost about $55.  When your stipend is $100 a month that’s pretty painful.  Of course, all of my living expenses are taken care of, I am sure I will manage fine!  After getting back to the township, I was walking the two blocks from where the taxi dropped me off to the house.  These three girls from the neighborhood were playing and decided to accompany me on my walk.  Just as I was wondering how they manage to walk around barefoot with so much broken glass around, I somehow managed to flip a piece of the broken glass into my flip flop and get a nice little cut in my heel.  Thankfully it’s nothing big, and my mom had given me Neosporin and Band-Aids before I came, so I was set.  After a Skype chat with my brother, sister-in-law, and nieces I emerged from my room to discover a mouse had made its way into Petunia’s bedroom.  We then spent about 45 minutes trying to coax the neighborhood cat into her room to see if it could find the mouse.  After much time, energy, fish, and milk expended, the cat was too skittish to do us much good and just sat at the door meowing to get out.  There you go-for those of you wondering what my typical day looks like…that was not it, but it was an interesting one!