Mission

Isle of Wight, 08/09/10

Recently I read an article by a Christian friend who was very dismissive of mission and missionaries, seeing them as “empire builders and cultural rapists”. It upset me to think that she might think of me in the same light. But then it provoked me to ask the question, why am I a so-called missionary? Why am I going half way across the world without a regular income, a husband and long-term security? Why am I leaving behind friends, family, community, home. Is it to go to another supposedly inferior culture to tell them what to believe and how to behave? Is it because, as a Christian and a Westerner, I have all the answers?

Over the years I have seen the best and the worst of “mission”. The worst, to my mind….Mega conferences in Mumbai with Western-style worship and pricey merchandise in abundance.  In Cambodia, rich retired couples living out their dream by buying cheap land and building huge properties/retreat centres whilst employing local staff and then criticising them behind their backs: “they’re all lazy, corrupt, out to rip us off…” NGOs in the funding mosh pit, fighting it out to put in the best bid. Mission teams squabbling over leadership and becoming territorial and possessive of converts.

And the best….. People with a high education sowing their knowledge into projects that enhance and save lives (eg water purification). Using the best of their knowledge to serve and support the people and then standing back. Representatives of nations who’ve plundered and bombed Cambodia who now stand with those whose lives have been devastated, offering help, time, finances. Brave souls rescuing children and young people from the sex industry and working with local agencies, communities and families to care for and support them back into everyday life.

So why am I going? For me, it’s to do with living out and being part of a story. My story, Cambodia’s story, the bigger God-story of mess, grace, love and forgiveness. Sensing that somehow the next part of my story is entwined with Cambodia’s. Something to do with healing and creativity. Using my skills to help restore the soul of a nation where less than 40 years ago, 90% of artists were killed during the Khmer Rouge regime and creativity was systematically crushed.

Not just bringing what I have though but appreciating and learning from another culture. I come away changed each time.

The world is skewed and unbalanced. I have an education, relative wealth, health, I’m loved and from a secure background. Not so for everyone. Not so in this country. But what I have, I can give. And what they have, they can help me.

So I go not necessarily to change things. Not to “do great works”. In many ways I feel like a toddler – no language, learning a new culture, undeveloped in understanding but willing to learn and grow. I’m not altogether. I’m not sorted. I have wobbles. I have days of great confidence and days of wavering esteem.

I don’t feel that what I have is better. I just have something different to offer. A different perspective, different gifts, different experience. Something to put in the mix as we edge towards the kingdom together. Different nations, different people. Fragile, resilient, broken and all of us still-healing.