finding that Jesus is enough

We assume that the manner in which we do faith and theology is the gold standard for Christians around the world.  Theology in Africa is contextual, while what we do in seminaries and churches in America is ‘the truth’.  The manner in which believers in Kenya act out their faith is ‘indigenous’, while the way we do faith in America is Christianity.  While we would never admit to such a condescending attitude, our language gives us away.  Contextualization and indigenization are terms we use to refer to foreign beliefs and practices but never to our own.  Could it be that the same terms should be applied to our beliefs and practices?  Isn’t all faith contextualized and every church indigenous to its locale? 

David W. Smith points to the contextual nature of theology and faith and explains why it is difficult to transmit the same throughout the world:

For the past few centuries the churches of Europe found themselves responding to the impact of new ideas in philosophy and science, with the inevitable result that theology in the West became highly contextual.  As they endeavored to translate Christian beliefs into Enlightenment categories, Western theologians accepted the existence of a clear distinction between the realms of sacred and the secular, and they granted a privileged place to rational thought and investigation as the path to knowledge.  Theology involved the systematic articulation of belief, biblical interpretation and preaching was to be logical, and truth itself came to be understood in terms of propositions requiring mental assent.  As we have seen, it was long assumed that this form of Christianity was capable of meeting the spiritual needs of peoples everywhere, so that missions become the means by which a more or less secularized form of faith was transmitted to the rest of the world.  What is now clear is that a theology that exalted the cerebral above the instinctual, gave priority to the individual over the communal, and accepted the matters of faith and ethics were private concerns, contributed to the loss of faith in what was once known as ‘Christendom’, even as it was being rejected as inadequate to the real needs of growing churches in the new heartlands of Christianity(Against the Stream: Christianity and Mission in an Age of Globalization, 2003, p. 21).

Smith’s words evoke a number of questions, but I want to address one - Given the fact that my theology and faith are “highly contextualized” should I engage in efforts to transmit the gospel across cultures?  My answer is - Absolutely yes!  Because the gospel of Jesus Christ has changed my life and brings meaning to my existence, I share it as the best hope for the troubles, hurts, bondage, rage, greed, conflict, and hate that plagues my near and distant neighbors.  It must be shared.

However, this urgency to share does not give me license to export wholesale my brand of Christianity.  I must see the gospel not as the intellectual property of my group or culture to be downloaded across language, ethnicity, tribe, or social status.  Rather, the gospel is like a virus that possesses its host and mutates into a multitude of strains resistant to uniformity.  Thus, I cross into another culture and boldly share my hope because of a confidence in the power of the gospel to transcend my limitations and to reproduce meaning and life within that context.  Potency is not in the carrier but in the virus.

Of course, there are attitudes and actions that I can adopt to foster credible transmission.  As a transmitter of the Jesus Virus, I need to … 

• examine my faith and concede that it is shaped by a context.
• recognize and confess that I am only a man, and thus, give witness to eternal truth via my limited language, symbols, and culture.
• trust the power of the Holy Spirit and the Bible in the life of a man or woman whose way of thinking, acting, and believing is completely different than my own.
• live a transformed, hopeful life.

The Jesus Way has become pandemic; it has spread to Brazil, Beijing, Swaziland, Dublin, Hico - to the ends of the earth.  No one group of people from any particular locale controls or manages this Virus.  Credible carriers of Christ infect others, who then carry this life-changing hope across borders, into prisons, via obscure languages, in spite of racial hatred, cultural bias, and impure motives.  For you see, it truly is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”

Myopia is a condition that the dictionary describes as both physical and mental.  Physically it is a defect in the eye’s retina that causes distance objects to be blurred.  Mentally it is a deficiency of foresight, discernment, or perspective that causes one’s perception of reality to be skewed or distorted.  In both cases, it is dangerous.  If physical vision is blurred, we may not see the truck in our lane as we top the hill.  If mental perspective is distorted, we may live with a less than true discernment of reality and thus unable to respond to the challenges rounding the corner.  Both can be deadly.

The cause of mental myopia is a singleness of focus on and uncritical commitment to a particular version of reality.  In other words, the manner in which we have been taught to see life is deemed as absolute or superior, and any other way is inferior and possibly a threat.  This condition manifests itself with the following symptoms -

• a fear of perspectives that might challenge our way of thinking
• a need to constantly reinforce or defend a particular perspective
• a tendency to state a certain perspective in dogmatic, black and white terms
• an attitude that is arrogant or dismissive toward other perspectives

Those with mental myopia are not always malicious or intentionally arrogant.  Many are infected with the condition and not even aware of it.  Since the way in which we view the world isthe only reality we have ever known, our perspective rules.  If all I have ever known is flat, dry, desert conditions, then there is no way to even conceive of a tropical place that is lush, green, and humid.  If I have grown up hearing the gospel propositionally reasoned as something I only believe as an intellectual experience, then I may not realize that for many the gospel is about liberation from evil spirits or release from mental and physical bondage.  Myopia limits vision of the wider reality.

The cure for both physical and mental myopia is corrective lenses.  We increase the possibility of seeing the world as it really is, in all its possibilities, as we put on other perspectives.  We do this as we stop talking about and promoting our way of life and actions.  Rather, we learn to ask questions and to listen with empathy and love.

Basic to my cure is the admission that I am a fallible, culturally-conditioned man.  I confess that I need to overcome a myopic view of Christian faith and the church.  My view is who I am - white, suburban, conservative, North American, wealthy, and powerful.  While it is a perspective that offers many positives, it is not the only perspective nor is it superior.  In fact, in terms of world Christianity, it is the minority perspective.  I desperately need to see what power, privilege, poverty, immigration, spirits, disease, family, church, prayer, worship, discipleship, witness, and faith look and feel like from the viewpoint of believers in Africa, India, Asia, south Texas, and 15th Street in Waco; from lives and traditions that are radically different from my own.  It is not so that I become who they are.  Rather, it is so that my view and experience of reality is made more complete and appreciates the richness of others. 

Latin American historian Justo Gonzalez challenges me with the following words:

The fact is that the gospel is making headway among the many tribes, peoples and languages - that it is indeed making more headway among them than it is among the dominant cultures of North Atlantic.  The question is not whether there will be a multicultural church.  Rather, the question is whether those who have become accustomed to seeing the gospel expressed only or primarily in terms of those dominant cultures will be able to participate in the life of the multicultural church that is already a reality. (For the Healing of the Nations, 1999, p. 91).

The North American variety of Christianity which dominates my understanding of God and faith needs the enrichment and instruction that can come only through living among and listening to the dominant, multicultural church around the world.  To think for a moment that my perspective is the ultimate reality is short-sighted, myopic folly.

“But [White Liberals] think all the world’s problems can be fixed without any cost to themselves.  We do not believe that. There’s a lot to be said for sacrifice, remorse, even pity.  It’s what separates us from roaches.” 
 -Dr. Paul Farmer, as quoted by Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a man would cure the world (2004), 40.

In preparation for a conference in February, I am reading about World Christianity.  I invite you to think with me via some key quotes. 

Sociologist Paul Freston characterizes Christianity as both declining and expanding.  It is losing ground in its more traditional heartland and yet expanding in non-Western regions. 

[Christianity] was 81 percent white (i.e., European and North American) in 1900; but by 2000 that figure was down to 40 [citing Barrett and Johnson, IBMR, 23/1, Jan. 1999, pp. 24-25]. … The result is that Christianity has become a predominantly non-Western religion and indeed probably the leading non-Western religion (only Islam could possibly rival it). …  For the first time since the seventh century, the majority of Christians are not of European origin; Christianity is finally breaking out of the “Western” mold imposed on it by Islam. (”Globalization, Religion, and Evangelical Christianity: A Sociological Meditation from the Third World” in Interpreting Contemporary Christianity: Global Processes and Local Identities, Eerdmans, 2008, pp. 29-30)

The same trend has been chronicled by Andrew Walls (The Missionary Movement in Christian History, Orbis, 1996), Lamin Sanneh (Whose Religion is Christianity? The Gospel beyond the West, Eerdmans, 2003), Dana Robert (”Shifting Southward: Global Christianity Since 1945,” IBMR, 24/2, April 2000), and Philip Jenkins (The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity, Oxford, 2002).  The common refrain among these writers is that the strength and vitality of the Christian movement has relocated.  And yet, the shift has been more than an adjustment in numerical strength or geographical locus.  The character and constitution of the faith, that which gives meaning to its forms and expressions, have changed as well.  While Andrew Walls characterizes this as “a seismic shift in Christianity,” Dana Robert nuances the change as “the seismic shift in Christian identity” (Robert, “Shifting Southward,” p. 50).

The gospel has moved beyond accommodated forms, rituals, and customs to penetrate and even renew peoples’ mentality or psyche with Christ-meaning and purpose.  Turning to Jesus, as Lamin Sanneh points out, has become “a refocusing of the mental life and its cultural/social underpinnings and of our feelings, affections, and instincts, in the light of what God has done in Jesus” (Sanneh, Whose Religion, pp. 43-44).  In other words, the faith is no longer a foreign guest in a strange land.  Rather, it is native to the soil, at home in locales throughout the world, and in touch with the deepest needs.  Thus, while Christianity may appear to be the world’s largest religion, it is in fact, as Dana Robert explains, “the ultimate local religion” (Robert, “Shifting Southward, p. 56).

And thus, the faith expands as it takes the form and shape of local societies.  Why?  Because Christianity finds a home in these places.  According to Walls, “The faith of Christ is infinitely translatable; it creates ‘a place to feel at home’” (Missionary Movement, p. 25).

Christianity is unique in its translatability; its ability to be at home in a myriad of languages, forms, mental frameworks (worldviews), histories, personal and national aspirations, etc.  This, of course, assaults the tendencies of some Western missionaries and church leaders to ‘internationalize’ their particular brand of Christianity.  And yet, the Christian faith was never intended to be captured or realized in one particular cultural form.

No primal form is prescribed that is to be introduced worldwide.  Indeed, it can be said that the church is infinitely translatable or adaptable.  The church can be established in every language and culture, taking the form that is appropriate to each particular cultural-linguistic group.  (Wilbert R. Shenk, “New Wineskins for New Wine: Toward a Post-Christendom Ecclesiology,” International Bulletin of Missionary Research, 29/2, April 2005, p. 74)

Christianity is translatable, and so the church in a particular society, cultural setting, and mentality must be translated as well.  For Christianity to be vibrant and authentic, a church in Ghana must be different than a church in Chicago.  Shenk concludes that

When we turn to examples from history where churches have shown authentic spiritual vitality, we observe that such churches have been marked by a strong sense of their identity as the body of Christ engaged in faithful witness to the world. To carry out this witness has invariably required new structures and forms appropriate to the cultural context. Old wineskins cannot handle new wine. (Ibid., p. 79)

Lamin Sanneh takes the discussion a step further to distinguish how new wineskins exist alongside older, more established ones.

“World Christianity” is the movement of Christianity as it takes form and shape in societies that previously were not Christian, societies that had no bureaucratic tradition with which to domesticate the gospel.  In these societies Christianity was received and expressed through the cultures, customs, and traditions of the people affected.  World Christianity is not one thing, but a variety of indigenous responses through more or less effective idioms, but in any case without necessarily the European Enlightenment frame.  “Global Christianity,” on the other hand, is the faithful replication of Christian forms and patterns developed in Europe. … It is, in fact, religious establishment and the cultural captivity of the faith.  (Sanneh, Whose Religion, p. 22)

Sanneh draws a sharp distinction between Christian faith that springs from the soil and that which is imported from a far.  The language of ‘world’ and ‘global’ distinguishes the two.  World denotes the new and emerging phenomenon, while global is representative of the period of colonial expansion and is now associated with globalization, McDonaldization, internationalism, etc. 

Ogbu U. Kalu develops the concept of globalism …

There has been a shift, however, from the global village concept to one of rather bewildering disintegration and flux.  One aspect is the pace and direction of change.  The other is that, at the core, globalism is a power concept, bearing the seeds of asymmetrical power relations.  There is no guarantee of equality or benefit for all.  Globalism is akin to the New Testament concpet of kosmos, the world order, controlled by an inexplicable, compulsive power, dazzling with allurements or kosmetikos. (”Changing Tides: Some Currents in World Christianity at the Opening of the Twenty-first Century,” in Interpreting Contemporary Christianity: Global Processes and Local Identities, Eerdmans, 2008, p. 7)

Thus, Global Christianity is to be viewed negatively as power religion accomplished via homogeneity or sameness.  Whatever the motivation (fear of syncretism, reinforcement of doctrinal orthodoxy, or naive and uncritical cultural imperialism), the result is the same - an “asymmetical power relation.”  And usually it is the one with the money which dominates in the relation. 

Some would argue that globalization has forever changed the world, and thus there are few place that exist in a cultural vacuum.  They contend that technologies and ideas run wild via television, radio, Internet, print mediums, movies, travel, etc., so talk of translation, indigenization, or contextualization is no longer relevant to the reality on the ground.  And yet, others argue that while secularization is taking place and plurality exists, it is “optionless plurality” (Freston, p. 31).  There are real and substantial barriers to conversion to a foreign (American) faith, and thus, if Christianity is to expand and thrive there must be “new structures and forms appropriate to the cultural context.”  Data indicates that the more vigorous expansion of Christianity is not occurring in places where traditional mainline denominations reign but where the faith has successfully delinked or disengaged from European and American influence and money. 

There is much more that could be cited and discussed, but this is enough for now.  The discussion is important for the North American Church as it contemplates its missionary program, its relationship to the surrounding culture, and how it relates to brothers and sisters half a world away.  Is the North American church really in a new position in its relationship to Christianity around the world?  If so, then in what new ways must it relate, participate, and contribute?

In a meeting this week, a man gave a group of us a nugget of profound wisdom - ‘A dog does not bark to be a dog, but barks because he is a dog.’  In a folksy way, he was simply saying that being and doing belong together; one is not separate from the other.  Dogs bark because that is what dogs do.  They are not trying to be dogs by barking, but barking is part of what it means to be a dog.

In the same way, followers of Jesus do certain things because that is what they do.  When a woman surrenders to Jesus, she becomes a new kind of person.  John says she is born again of the Spirit.  She performs acts of love not to become a Jesus follower; she loves because of a changed nature.   

James, the brother of Jesus, talks about this truth in terms of faith and works.  He asks, “What use is it, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but has no works?”  The answer is that talk of faith is useless - unless there are works.  A bit later he says, “someone may well say, ‘You have faith and I have works; show me your faith without the works, and I will show you my faith by my works’.”  In other words, works are not imperative for faith, works are indicative of faith.

Thus far, this is straightforward and clear, and yet, there is an uneasy question - What does it mean when a dog meows?  Well, if a true dog meows, then either it has a severe psychological problem, or it is attempting to be something it is not.  Quite possibly it thinks cats are cool or more fulfilled, have a cushier life (and they certainly do) or are a superior species in the animal kingdom, and thus aspires to be a cat.  If dogs compare themselves to cats and then imitate their behavior, they do something very unnatural, even weird.  A true dog may try to meow, but its meows will be unconvincing and bizarre, because that is not what dogs do.

When followers of Jesus conform to the sounds and looks of the world, they do something that is against their nature.  Ways that were at one time second nature to them are now uncomfortable and strange.  Greed, power-grabs, consumption, hatred, jealousy, and abuse are contrary to their new nature.  If a follower of Jesus consumes and accumulates without thought of the needs of others, then he is like a dog that meows.  If this and other uncharacteristic behaviors are the instinctive and constant patterns of the Christian’s life, then possibly the dog is not a dog but just a cat desiring to be a dog but not yet a dog.  The professing Christian should have feelings of disconnect and dissonance when their behavior does not match a changed nature.  If not, then possibly they have only aspired to imitate Christianity and have not experienced re-birth. 

As a follower of Jesus, I am in a process of being transformed through God’s grace from the inside out.  And though I am far from perfect, I am a new creature.  Old things have passed away and all things have become new.  My new nature compels me to speak and live the confession that Jesus is Lord.

When I am discouraged, tired, or near despair, I look at a small photograph pinned to the wall over my desk.  In this photo, Pastor Allen Yuan Xiangchen and I are seated at a small table in his Beijing apartment.  A friend of his had taken me down backstreets and alleyways to a nondescript building and a tiny, ground floor apartment to meet him.  There was no appointment secretary, plaques of honor, pictures for sale, or adulating followers.  What I found was a rather small man and his wife - two saints. 

Pastor Yuan began his ministry right after the Japanese surrendered in 1945.  He opened a prayer room in Beijing where he baptized new believers.  Because he refused to join the state-sponsored, national church, he was arrested in 1958 and sentenced to life in prison for “counter-revolutionary crimes.”  He spent the next 22 years of his life in prison doing forced labor.  He had no Bible and no contact with his family during these years.  Upon his release in 1979, he immediately returned to what he had been doing when arrested.  People would pack his small apartment to pray and to hear Pastor Yuan teach from the Bible.  He did not conceal what he was doing nor did he consider it to be “underground.”  He said he no longer feared what the authorities might do to him.

During my visit, he asked one question after another about my faith and how he might pray for me.  He was concerned that I live as a faithful witness to Jesus in my country and among my family and acquaintances.  Toward the end of our visit, I asked him how he kept from losing hope during the years of hardship and separation from his family.  He immediately responded by quoting the opening verses of Psalms 27-

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the defense of my life; whom shall I dread?  When evildoers came upon me to devour my flesh, my adversaries and my enemies, they stumbled and fell. Though a host encamp against me, my heart will not fear; though war arise against me, in spite of this I shall be confident. 

The face of this saint glowed with confidence as he spoke these words.  In this frail body and watery eyes, I witnessed strong and vibrant hope.  Years of abuse, privation, and cold had not crushed hope.  His testimony was not that he had overcome his oppressors but that he had decided to hope in the Lord.

Pastor Yuan died on August 16, 2005 but his testimony lives.  His testimony of hope gives me hope.  His picture reminds me to choose to be confident in the One who has defeated evildoers, adversaries, enemies, and even death.

Do not succumb to the calls to fear.  From the Left and the Right, leaders of our society and managers of the economy are telling us the sky is falling and the only thing we can do is anxiously wring our hands.  This is not the time for hand wringing, rather it is the exact moment in which we are to live by faith and not just talk about faith.  If we walk by faith rather than sight, then the reign of God is the reality we live by rather than falling stocks, bank failures, and diminishing buying power.  Resist the notion that we rise and fall on the market; instead, embrace the promises of God.  It is especially in times like these that he can be believed and trusted.  This kind of rebellion against fear produces hope within us and gives witness to those in despair of the hope that is in Jesus Christ.  Resist the calls to fear.  Fear not!

Some of us have no problem whatsoever speaking the truth.  We state things as they are and tell people exactly what we think.  While we may have a problem with speaking the truth in love, we do not tell lies. 

On the other hand, there are many of us who battle to tell the truth.  We fudge on the facts, tell half-truths, or just flat out lie.  Some of us fear confrontation, so we protect ourselves by telling only some of the facts or we shape them so that we do not sound offensive.  Others of us don’t want to look bad, so we pad numbers, overstate the facts, or reveal only selected parts of the full story.  And then some of us just don’t like the way things are playing out, so we recast reality to our liking. 

In each case, truth is compromised.  And yet, truth is not the only victim of lying.  The person lying is a victim of his or her own lies.  How so?

• Transparency is lost.  When we lie about one part of life, we must align the other parts of life to fit the lie.  Our deception compounds through every part of life.  In turn, we must shield every part of life, for fear that the lie will be discovered.  The result is that we are unable to freely give ourselves to others in love or service for fear of being found out. 
• Lying is work.  Once spoken, the lie must be managed.  It has to be reinforced by corroborating evidence, a confident demeanor, and contingencies.  So, the lie requires a load of effort.
• Integrity is violated.  The irony is that while we try to make ourselves look better with lies, in reality we are destroying the bedrock of what it takes to live a strong and productive life.  Lying causes personal dissonance and thus creates internal conflict. 
• Reputation is lost.  Lies cannot be hidden.  People come to know us as liars and politely dismiss what we say.  Once we are known as a liar, reputation as one who is believeable is hard to regain.
• Reality is skewed.  If we lie long enough and often enough, our ability to discern truth will be impaired.   We start believing that truth is what we make it, and thus, our moral compass does not point to true north.

For those of us who are habitual liars - how do we stop?  For those of us who dabble in half-truths - how do we ensure that we will tell the whole truth?  For those of us who tell the truth but know we could easily lie - how do we guard against lying?  Here are six reminders that help me to speak the truth -

1. Call a lie a lie.  Joseph Dawson is quoted as saying, “The man who aims to tell approximate truth is a liar.  He who lives only in the neighborhood of honesty is a crook.”   If my motivation is to change what the facts actually are, then I have lied.  There is no such thing as a ‘white lie’ or a fib.  The first step is to stop lying to myself about what is a lie.
2. Measure words.  As I speak to others, I need to ask - Are the words that are coming out of my mouth actually true?  Would I want any and everyone to hear what I have just said?  Can I stand behind these words should others question them? 
3. Gossip is lying.  If I speak against someone and do not give them opportunity to correct what has been said or to defend themself, then I have told only half the truth and thereby slandered them.  There is no possible way that I can know all the facts of an event or fairly read a person’s motivation, so to gossip is to spread half-truth. 
4. Quickly confess.  If I speak something that is not true, then I need to re-track what I have said and restate the matter with everyone who heard me.  Rather than covering it up or making light of it, I need to confess that what I said was not true.
5. Be on guard.  I must be diligent because deception stands at my door waiting for a crack to get its toe inside with a fib or a bit of gossip.  Once inside, the fib can easily grows into full-blown, habitual lying.
6. Live toward disclosure.  I must speak with the clear understanding that everything that I say will one day be fully revealed for what it is.

To speak the truth, I must live by the truth of who I am.  If I am at peace with who God has made me to be and with what he has given me to do, then there is little reason to lie.  If, however, I feel that I must create and maintain a ‘much better persona’, then I will manipulate the truth to enhance my reputation and to get what I feel I need.  And yet, the gospel truth is that speaking the truth liberates me to truly be who I am meant to be in relation to God, myself, and others.

“Missionary work must be either the relation of the Church to the world, or a fad of a few.” 
 -Roland Allen, The Spontaneous Expansion of the Church, p. 98.

Mother Teresa witnessed the power of God’s Light shining in darkness.  Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the ‘Saint of Calcutta’ (Doubleday, 2007) exposes the inner life of Mother Teresa and gives fresh explanation for what motivated her.  She recounts that on September 10, 1946, while traveling by train from Calcutta to Darjeeling, she encountered Christ.  He simply said to her, “I thirst.”  She took this to mean that Christ was the diseased and dying of India and that she was to give water to them, and thus to Him.  And then she said that Christ invited her to join him as “a victim of India.”  She was to take to herself the suffering and death of those abandoned, left to die.  And then toward the end of this encounter, she heard the words, “Come be My Light.” 

Her years of service in Calcutta were not a call to become a saint or a Noble Laureate.  Her call was to suffer and to be light in and through that suffering.  Her victimization led her to embrace the diseased and dying and to stand in solidarity with the poor.  She did not stand at a distance to offer consolation and pity, but shone as light from within the prison house of death and darkness.  Her letters and diary entries repeat over and over that the darkness is real, brutal, painful, lonely, difficult - it is dark!  Her calling was to be God’s light in its midst.

Boldness and confidence in ministry and proclamation arise from weakness.  While God uses our sharpened skills and trained minds, in the end it is by his grace and mercy that any of us are used, and it is through his power that our words have effect.  The problem is that too often an acknowledgement of my honed skills and my mind turns into a triumphalism that lauds my abilities to accomplish much for God.  Or I rely on my gadgets, technologies, and technique to bring in the kingdom of God.  Or I elevate my national or cultural achievements above the ways of God.  In the end, I turn the mission of God into my mission. 

Worst of all, in this triumphalism, I fear the darkness.  I am unable to confidently confess Christ because I am afraid of becoming victim to others who might inconvenience me, use me, or trample me.  I have to fear the darkness because it might engulf me, and I become unknown and pass into obscurity.  Triumphal mission and ministry cannot go to prison, will not embrace those dying, and must not suffer as a victim.  Because the darkness scares us to death, we run from it and thus as well from the power and purpose of the Spirit.

The witness of Mother Teresa and many others is that we can trust the Spirit’s power and purposes.  In fact, in this kind of trust there is great freedom to believe God and to witness God’s power.  The good news is that the mission of God does not rise or fall on my skill or mind.  The good news is that God meets us in the dark and difficult, uses our weakness, and thereby, shines his light.