On my first cross-cultural trip as an adult that wasn't directly for the intention of missions, I learned a lot. I stepped foot in a Church that looked a whole lot like an American Church and I was angry. I met "short term missionaries" attempting to help long term missionaries. I watched them for the week, knowing that their savior mentality was something I had certainly fallen into before. One time, I was with my Romanian friend who I had been staying with. The white short term "missionary" was handing out Chapstick to the children of the village. My friend asked if she could have one as well. This white woman looked at my Romanian friend and had the audacity to 'teach' her how to put Chapstick on. My friend looked at me and rolled her eyes, nodded at the woman and took the Chapstick.
This story has stuck with me for the past several years. There was something that turned me off about this couple. However, instead of being angry, I asked a lot of questions to the Romanians there. I asked what it was like to have this couple come annually. Was it helpful? Or was is it a burden? I watched as my Romanian friends payed for meal after meal for this couple. I watched them complain about the living conditions (God forbid, they didn't have air conditioning in their room). They complained about the food made for them by the hands of the Romanians in kindness. I watched them talk about the Romanians as though they were less then. "These poor children," she would say, "they barely know English. They don't know what Chapstick is."
I was angry. And since that trip, I've been trying to figure out why I was so angry. What was it about this couple that was just so infuriating? I had done the very same thing in other countries, on other trips. I was ashamed to be attached to this mentality.
Recently, I've followed a lot of black activists on social media, I've been reading books by people of other cultures, I've been listening to things that aren't informed by a evangelical viewpoint. And my God, I have been learning so much.
I have immersed myself into a worldview that is different from my own. I am unlearning the harmful ideas that I grew up with. I am learning about the resiliency of people, the way people rise and survive. I am learning about privilege and the harm of the systems.
As I've been learning, I realized why this couple made me so angry. They came from an American Christian system that praises you for taking an annual pilgrimage to another country to serve. They came from a country that told them they are better because of the shade of their skin and the amount of money that they have.
I am less angry now and I am sad for them. There was so much they could have learned from the Romanians. They thought they were bringing Jesus, rather than seeing Jesus who is already there, in those people, in that culture. I met Jesus that week in a new way. I met him in the gentleness of the Romanian missionaries who took in the teenagers from the village and gave them a safe place to call home. I met him in the girl who didn't like me because she was wary of these Christian missionaries who came and took, rather than learn. The way she cared for the children was gentle and relentless. I met Jesus in the elderly couple who owned the Church down the street and sat and watched as the children played in their yard.
One day I hope to return to these countries where I tried to teach rather than to learn. I hope to return to India and ask more questions rather than share my own story so many times. I hope to go back to Nicaragua and see the beauty of children being raised by a village rather than think they would be better off with me in America. I hope to go back to Romania and ask a lot of questions, not just about missionaries, but about their culture.
Let us be gentle in learning before we try to Americanize a culture for the sake of the Gospel. Rather than pushing our culture on theirs, let us slow down enough to see how Jesus is already there, in these beautiful cultures and beautiful people.
This story has stuck with me for the past several years. There was something that turned me off about this couple. However, instead of being angry, I asked a lot of questions to the Romanians there. I asked what it was like to have this couple come annually. Was it helpful? Or was is it a burden? I watched as my Romanian friends payed for meal after meal for this couple. I watched them complain about the living conditions (God forbid, they didn't have air conditioning in their room). They complained about the food made for them by the hands of the Romanians in kindness. I watched them talk about the Romanians as though they were less then. "These poor children," she would say, "they barely know English. They don't know what Chapstick is."
I was angry. And since that trip, I've been trying to figure out why I was so angry. What was it about this couple that was just so infuriating? I had done the very same thing in other countries, on other trips. I was ashamed to be attached to this mentality.
Recently, I've followed a lot of black activists on social media, I've been reading books by people of other cultures, I've been listening to things that aren't informed by a evangelical viewpoint. And my God, I have been learning so much.
I have immersed myself into a worldview that is different from my own. I am unlearning the harmful ideas that I grew up with. I am learning about the resiliency of people, the way people rise and survive. I am learning about privilege and the harm of the systems.
As I've been learning, I realized why this couple made me so angry. They came from an American Christian system that praises you for taking an annual pilgrimage to another country to serve. They came from a country that told them they are better because of the shade of their skin and the amount of money that they have.
I am less angry now and I am sad for them. There was so much they could have learned from the Romanians. They thought they were bringing Jesus, rather than seeing Jesus who is already there, in those people, in that culture. I met Jesus that week in a new way. I met him in the gentleness of the Romanian missionaries who took in the teenagers from the village and gave them a safe place to call home. I met him in the girl who didn't like me because she was wary of these Christian missionaries who came and took, rather than learn. The way she cared for the children was gentle and relentless. I met Jesus in the elderly couple who owned the Church down the street and sat and watched as the children played in their yard.
One day I hope to return to these countries where I tried to teach rather than to learn. I hope to return to India and ask more questions rather than share my own story so many times. I hope to go back to Nicaragua and see the beauty of children being raised by a village rather than think they would be better off with me in America. I hope to go back to Romania and ask a lot of questions, not just about missionaries, but about their culture.
Let us be gentle in learning before we try to Americanize a culture for the sake of the Gospel. Rather than pushing our culture on theirs, let us slow down enough to see how Jesus is already there, in these beautiful cultures and beautiful people.
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