Seriously. Missions, Misunderstood was so theoretical, so boring, so tedious to read, that I actually quit reading what I was writing. Those of you who have stuck with it must be gluttons for punishment. Either that or you’re just too lazy to change your RSS feed reader settings. Either way, I’m going to pull a Domino’s Pizza mea culpa and say, “We used to put out some real crap around here, but we’re changing our recipe now, and we think you’ll really like it now.”

For starters, my “anonymity” has kept me from being able to write about personal experiences. You know, the interesting stuff that people might want to read. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to write about a personal adventure/experience/life lesson but reconsidered in deference to my alter-ego. From here on out, I’m going to worry less about keeping my identity secret and more about writing good posts. Or, at least decent posts.

Somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost a certain amount of snark. Not that the world needs another Johnathan Acuff, but a healthy dose of wit can make for some fun reading. And we all know that what missions needs is a little more sass. After all, if people wanted to read heart-warming missionary stories, they’d visit the site of a major missions organization, wouldn’t they?

This blog is still about being a missionary and understanding missions. Only now it will be more so.

Although I like to think that my entire blog is written with you as its intended audience, I realize that my thoughts here can sometimes come across as talking about you rather than to you. With this post, I offer a word of warning, and I’d like to be clear that it is intended for you.

A broad base of spiritual, financial, and emotional support is vital to any missions endeavor. If you don’t have that support, you’re left alone, discouraged, and in potentially dangerous spiritual territory. I imagine that all of you know this, and most of you put the necessary time and energy into building and fostering such a support base.

Nevertheless, you must do more to communicate what God is doing in, through, and among you on the mission field.

In times past, most churchgoers only knew (or, at least knew of) one missionary. There simply weren’t that many people leaving home to live in intentional, incarnational ministry in a foreign context. If a Christian was thinking about missions, odds were that he was thinking about you.

But things have changed. The shrinking of the world, combined with a renewed emphasis on volunteerism and short-term service, means that many believers know many different missionaries personally.  It’s likely that you aren’t the first thing that comes to mind at the mention of international missions. Sure, you’ve faithfully sent out your prayer newsletter each month, but there are hundreds of other people/organizations with beautiful websites, custom graphics, and full-time content writers.

The truth is, there are just too many voices out there calling for the attention of the people in the pews for you to keep up with. Charities. Youth programs. Political causes. Social issues. Physical needs. The newest Bible translation and accompanying study guide.  You’re just another voice, asking for prayer, money, and a mention in the church bulletin on your birthday.

So what can you do about it? How can you possibly compete with powerful videos, gimmicky gifts, and flashy four-color brochures? Here are some ideas:

• Be personal. I want to read about how hard it is, how you feel, and how you interact with people. If you only write about random people I don’t know, it’s hard for me to care. Tell us about your struggle to meet people, your doubt, and your loneliness. Chronicle your family’s adventures, your host culture’s traditions, and your personal interactions with God. (I know many of you are concerned about security, but this might be the motivation you need to work out your access platform.)
• Use social media. Letters were okay when everyone communicated via letters. Now, a letter only serves to remind us that you’re not connected to “real life.” Real life for us is instant, interactive, and short.  You really need to be using using tools like Twitter, blogs, Facebook, LinkedIn, etc. If you want us to remember you and your work often, communicate often, and in ways that remind us that what you’re doing there isn’t disconnected from what we’re doing here.
• Be creative in your communication. Post photos. Upload videos. Record a podcast. Publish a comic book. Produce a weekly online radio show. Make an iTunes music mix, print t-shirts, put together a desktop widget. Do something to insure that your relationship to the people who support you is interesting, relevant, informative, and encouraging.
• Ask for input. If your communication with people back home is limited to sermonic Bible study notes and pictures of your kids, it’s hard to know what to say back to you. But if you ask for opinions, insight, ideas, or critiques, I’m more likely to respond and interact. If I respond and interact, I’m more likely to think about you every once in a while.
• Speak prophetically into what’s happening Stateside. There is a broad conversation among churches and church leaders about being missional. (Missional, in case you’re not familiar with the term, refers to an intentional Christian lifestyle that incarnates the gospel into one’s cultural context. It’s the opposite of “attractional” ministry and “forays into the world” mission trips.) Of all the voices in the missional conversation, few (if any) belong to missionaries. If you’re not participating in the conversation, you’re missing a huge opportunity to speak into a massive and influential Christian movement. And the movement desperately needs the influence of those who are planting churches cross-culturally.

Also, the church needs to learn missiology. Where do they learn about missions? From you. But if you’re neglecting your duty as a teacher and advocate, they’re left with Joel Osteen, Mark Driscoll, and Al Mohler (none of whom are/were/think like missionaries.) In order to participate in what God is doing around the world, they need to hear what you’ve experienced.

Please, consider your strategy for communication with your supporting churches. You need them, they need you, and we’re all missing out on what God is doing when we aren’t unified. It doesn’t take a lot, but you have access to the tools that can connect you in real ways to the body of believers that sends you.

Thanks for reading. Please send me links to your streams of communication. I’d love to follow you!

“I would argue that megachurches are intrinsically unhealthy because of the exorbitant building costs, reliance on attractional church programs, and the fact that your pastor doesn’t know your name.”

A couple of Ed’s readers responded to my comment with,

“I guess I’m not into questioning the idea of megachurches till one get’s larger than the church in first century Jerusalem. I don’t think James knew the thousands of parishioners in that church by name.”

and

“Didn’t the church begin as a mega-church? ie Jerusalem and 3000 were saved in one day.”

It never really occurred to me that there were Christians who believed that the first century church looked even remotely like church as it’s known in America today. I can’t imagine that early believers organized themselves congregationally, or that what they did/could (in any way, shape, or form) be compared to a modern megachurch.

This is a classic example of bringing American Christian presuppositions to the scriptures. The commenters on Ed’s blog didn’t say this, but let’s apply the thinking; the elders (“pillars,” Galatians 2:9) were staff members, the church met all together in one place, the pastor preached a sermon.

Scripture doesn’t paint this picture of the early church. According to the book of Acts (2:42-47), the first Christians were Jews. They participated in the Temple, they observed Jewish traditions. Their Christianity was expressed through learning, sharing, eating, praying/fasting, praising God and meeting needs. The Lord added thousands to their number. Maybe it’s my postmodern distrust in all things institutional. Maybe it’s my time on the mission field, away from established traditional churches. Whatever the reason, I don’t see this as a megachurch.

Why would we assume that “praising God” means that the believers met in one place for a time of guided “praise and worship?” Why would we think that early church leaders were pastors in any sense of the word as it’s used today (seminary-trained, full-time, executive preachers)? What would lead us to assume that the “Jerusalem Church” was a local church and not a unified citywide  movement? Why would we think that a felowshipping network of believers could be safely “translated” into something compartmentalized, attractional, branded, and programmatic? Can we not see that applying corporate and commercial principals to church actually change what it means to be the church?

Our inability to conceptualize church outside the formal, building-and-staff centered model may be one reason for the relative ineffectiveness of American missionaries planting churches on the mission field. In the short run, we can reproduce First Baptist Church by re-wiring people to think in modern, rational, and propositional term. We can build (rent/borrow/receive as gifts) buildings, set up rows of chairs all facing the pulpit, and teach people to sing in order to worship, but the popular American model for church simply isn’t sustainable, even in America.

So what might a more biblical and missional church look like? Stay tuned for my next post: Mom-and-Pop Church.

In the process, I learned a thing or two about the art of culture study. In foreign (to us) cultures, it’s easy to see the need for contextualization; without it, communication is difficult and influence is unlikely.

Globalization insures that cultural influence runs in every direction. The United States is maybe a few years from sharing Europe’s postmodern, post-Christian worldview. In many places (and not always where you might expect!), postmodernism is a worldview reality. Culturally speaking, my time in Europe has allowed me to see the future.

As I’ve reentered what used to be my home culture, I’ve seen things from a different perspective. I’m now the outsider that I didn’t understand before I left. Now, all of those things that were once familiar seem so strange. As I actively seek to connect with fellow practitioners of the Christian faith, I’m shocked at how few Christian leaders understand, their cultural contexts. Fewer still could be called cultural influencers.

I’ve been blogging here at Missions Misunderstood for a while now. In that time, I’ve (however inarticulately) questioned, challenged, and dismissed many popular notions about missions. I’ve also tried to suggest new approaches, a more biblical missiology, and a new vocabulary for discussing missiological ideas. I appreciate those of you who have followed me on this journey.

My goals have not changed, but my location has. We believe God has brought us back to the U.S. for a reason. In order for me to be good a steward of my experience in Europe, I feel the need to speak into the contextualization efforts (or gross lack thereof) of the American church.

I have seen the future, and American Christian leaders are not prepared for it. You can read my efforts to help in that regard at Contexting, my new blog. I may still post here on matters specifically concerning missions, but Contexting will focus on a broader range of topics; from social movements to global politics to cultural influencers.

If you feel the need to move toward a more incarnational approach to ministry, follow my blog for a little while. Invite some of the leaders in your community of faith to join you in reading Contexting. I believe that it will move you toward a better understanding of how to have a more redemptive relationship with the world around you.

A couple of months ago, I experienced something that has never happened to me. I sat down in front of the computer intending to write another soul-searching, thought-provoking post (thought-provoking for me, anyway), and the strangest thing happened: nothing. I couldn’t write. For some reason, everything that I wanted to write seemed boring, redundant, petty, annoying, worthless, or just silly.

My newfound writer’s block may have been due, in part anyway, to several conversations I had with readers. One was asking for my advice on starting his own blog. “How should I do it if I don’t want mine to be as focused on denominational politics as yours?” he asked. That got me thinking; Is my blog about denominational politics? That’s certainly not what I ever intended!

Another faithful reader told me that lately my posts had been lacking the “edge” that he had originally found so attractive. “I used to love when you’d really let people have it on your blog!” he said. I’ve never wanted my blog to be that, ever. I’m not trying to sling accusations or publicly challenge anyone about anything. This guy obviously hadn’t perused the comments sections of any of my posts; if he had, he would have seen what an inept debater I am.

The most interesting comment I’ve received lately about my blog was from a new reader who told me that he had stayed up all night one night reading every post I had ever written. “You kind of repeat yourself a lot.” he said. “Your posts are good, but you seem to be saying the same thing over and over.” I tried not to point out that his two-sentence comment was itself redundant.

The thing that bothered me about his comment was that I agree with him. What’s the point of writing once a week about how uncomfortable I am as a missionary, and how much I think the people in the churches back home misunderstand me? Why fill the (virtual) pages of a blog with complaints and things that only serve to discourage those within my organization?

So until I come up with something worth writing, I won’t be posting here. Thank you for reading, and for participating in the discussion.