Tuesday, January 8, 2019

5 Years in Taiwan: 5 Personal Lessons Learned

(This is the second post in a 2-part series. The first was primarily about the missions side of things, and this one is more focused on personal lessons that have come with my time on the field)

In today's post I'd like to explore 5 personal lessons I have learned or have been in the process of learning over these past 5 years. Some of these are deeply personal struggles, and I share them not to talk about myself, though self-expression is always part of a personal blog, and not as a form of emotional catharsis, but in hopes that other people can identify with and possibly be helped by some of it.


1. The Effectiveness of Simple Endurance through Time


When we are struggling through challenging times in our lives, one of the fastest ways to succumb to temptation is to start believing the thought "this is never going to end." The preemptive despair that comes with this way of thinking encourages us that current decisions don't matter when weighed against the overwhelming suffering of our mental or emotional anguish continued forward in an erroneous hypothetical straight line for the foreseeable future, like a hockey stick climate graph.

It it sometimes true that grievous or painful situations aren't going to undo themselves. Some tragedies are permanent, at least in this mortal life. However, when we say "this" is never going to end, a big part of that "this" is our mental state at the time. There's the false implication that I'll always feel about this situation the way I do now. But being time-bound creatures, that's not usually true.

It's not true that time heals all wounds. Some wounds fester with time. But when facing pain with an attitude of faithful endurance, even if all the future brings is as inadequate a solution as learning to avoid that painful spot in one's memories, that is still a very different place than the pain being fresh and comprehensive and the mistaken conviction that it's a permanent state of affairs.

Being someone who spends a bit too much time in my own head, mental anguish is particularly hard to deal with, especially being an INTP who tries to "solve" the anguish by thinking it through, leading to unhelpful rumination sometimes punctuated by the painful emotions breaking through regardless.

But one thing that can really only be learned by experience is that as time passes, things change. Although there are certainly more and less healthy ways of dealing with something by letting time pass (it takes wisdom to know when to let change happen passively and when to be proactive), if one can simply endure the storm, taking refuge in God's promises, even the biggest personal typhoons blow past eventually.




2. Internalizing a Mentality of Antifragility


If you've read many of my past posts, I am a fan of Taleb's concept of fragility vs. resilience vs. antifragility. One application of the idea can be seen in comparing glass, rubber, and living bone. A hard shock shatters fragile glass, while rubber simply bounces back and is unaffected. But broken bones can heal back with a denser structure than before at the fracture point; in response to damage the bone didn't simply return to normal, but grew stronger there.

For an even simpler example, consider the dandelion above. If a strong gale blew through a piece of land, a stiff but fragile elm tree might lose a limb or even fall over entirely, while a tough and resilient willow could bend with the wind and come out unharmed. However a patch of dandelions would actually prosper greatly by having their seeds blown across the entire countryside. (Yet a spritz of weedkiller could end them, while not greatly affecting the large trees. Everything is fragile to something)

Things to which the adjective antifragile can be applied, actually need shocks and damage to grow healthier and stronger, and peace and protection aren't helpful for growth, just as dead calm days don't help the dandelions to spread their seeds, and periods of peace and affluence can be dangerous for the Church. (I have written in the past how the Church is an antifragile institution)

There are lots of ways this mentality can be applied (Taleb was initially focused on the stock market). But living on the mission field certainly provides ample opportunities. Consider church planting; a "fragile" ministry approach would be borrowing a lot of money to buy a large and beautiful building for a growing church to meet in. Any damage to that building is your achille's heel, and you are in a financially tenuous position. Our little church plant is more resilient, partly through its small size and relational focus; if the community center we meet in closed, we could meet in my coworker's home, or pack into my smaller apartment if necessary. Some people drop off the radar temporarily, but holiday events or special activities bring them back and can be a chance to reconnect. An antifragile model of church-planting is harder to envision in the strategic sense, though I'm working on it. (Persecution can function in that way, but I believe persecution as a church-planting model is best left to God in His infinite wisdom.)

Antifragility is also a very helpful mentality for a person doing cross-cultural ministry. Every mistake I make in the language that anyone points out is a chance to improve, for example, while no mistakes being pointed out doesn't help me even though it feels good. Likewise, every ministry approach we try and see little to no success in is a learning opportunity. Note that this is not just the ministry equivalent of seeing the silver lining or the opposite of eating bitter grapes: It's not a method of self-consolation, it drives you to try out new ways of saying things and try new ways of doing ministry so that stagnation can be avoided and growth obtained through temporary failures and setbacks.

One example of internalizing that mentality comes in is how to deal with the minor failures. If I act embarrassed or offended whenever Chinese mistakes are pointed out, that's discouraging my friends and others from pointing them out. I may save a little face, but I don't learn or grow. Instead I try to maintain and convey the opposite attitude, of a learner who appreciates being corrected. So instead of a "silver lining" approach where at least through making mistakes I learn something, I want and welcome those corrections.

The same is true for ministry work. If I focus on results and how well the church plant or a particular ministry is going, I may get discouraged and feel I'm not a good enough church planter when things don't go according to plan, spiritual fruit seems scanty, or attendance is low. If on the other hand I remember that I'm learning how to plant a whole new church in Taiwan, a difficult task that a fairly small number of people currently alive have experience in, then it's clear that trial and error is absolutely necessary to grow.

In that context, things that don't work well, or even unpleasant surprises, are helpful in ways that things which go smoothly can't be. Recently I've been increasingly able to recognize when setbacks are not just the way life/ministry goes, but are actually helpful progress or even blessings that I would have missed if I'd not changed my mentality in this way.

3. Progress in the Battle against Procrastination


My list of life achievements reads well, but I've missed out on a lot of potentially fun opportunities and experiences along the way. This is partly because I'm an introvert (and that fun weekend trip sounds great but I have a stack of books and some hot tea on standby to recharge my batteries), but probably more so because I have often been plagued by procrastination. I could always get the important things done, for example an important paper in seminary, but by not arranging my time well early on, and waiting too late to start, it wouldn't be a good representation of my paper writing capabilities because I didn't give myself enough time.

Or so I thought. Actually it was an excellent representation of my paper writing capabilities, because being able to start the writing in a timely fashion counts as part of those capabilities. This is a huge realization I've had in the past few years; there is no hypothetical talent. Thinking that someone who is great at writing but never applies themselves is a tragic waste is only somewhat true; if they can't make themselves write they're not great at writing. Or perhaps one could more accurately say they are great at writing snippets and bits of things, but that's a pretty common talent, actually. Whatever wherewithal great writers possessed to actually get lots of words on paper wasn't the "final step" in their talent but a crucial component of it.

At some point I realized my procrastination, when it kicked in automatically, was largely due to a kind of reflexive perfectionism. I don't want to reply to that work email yet, I want to think about precisely how to craft my response. I don't want to message that person and see about meeting tonight, I didn't sleep well last night and don't want to come across as frazzled or my Chinese to be subpar because my brain is too tired.

It took a combination of patiently using logic with myself and some life experience to recognize that other people's expectations aren't that high. They don't want a precisely phrased email in which I have communicated exactly what I want to say including the right connotations, they just want a basic reply to their query and may not spend any time analyzing it enough to notice the connotations at all (They don't have INTP velociraptors that chew on whatever ideas other people bring up). The way I come across when tired isn't all that different from how I normally come across, and most people don't care that much either way. Etc. Etc.

I also realized that trying to be perfectionistic about certain things meant they consumed time that should be allotted for higher priority tasks, and it also kept certain processes stuck and delayed that I could have been benefiting from all along had I settled for an "adequate" step B and continued on to C and beyond.

I'm still fighting this battle, but this past year especially I've made a lot of progress. Writing this section feels a little vulnerable and is certainly humbling (it seems silly to be like this compared to many other people who just do things and get on with their lives) but I hope it may be helpful to other people who struggle with similar tendencies.

4. Improving Goal-focus with Goal-awareness


Despite dealing with the issues described above, I am a very goal-oriented person and this has helped me do some things that required long-term focus and determination. I have also found along the way that while big, long-term goals tend to stay out in front of us, it's easy to lose focus of smaller goals in the process of daily life.

To use a humorous but perhaps very relevant example, I have always had trouble remembering people's names. I might meet several people at a party or event and come away remembering small details about our conversations and things they mentioned about themselves, but only remembering the names of 2 or 3 of them.

There are lots of tips floating around for getting better at this, and my problem isn't a bad memory. It's that I don't set a little goal of remembering the person's name ahead of time. Whatever little mental prompt that ought to be there doesn't happen automatically. All it takes is a brief self-reminder to register each person's name when they say it, then confirm it at some point later. If I can remember to do that, the names are not a big problem.

This can be true in our spiritual life too. When temptation beckons, or when we're tempted to skip a Bible reading or have a bad attitude about something, sometimes all we need is a moment of awareness--is this my goal? In the story of my life, is this how I'm choosing today's page to read?




5. Stepping through Anxiety into Faith


Being a very goal-oriented person as mentioned above, I have frequently struggled with anxiety. I have found that anxiety has an almost purely physical component which I'm susceptible to (gut health issues, etc. Though that's kind of a chicken-egg problem) but is also connected with the process of setting and reaching difficult future goals.

Anxiety arises in that distance between your good goal or destination and your lack of certainty about your ability to reach it. It's as if stepping from one stone to another across a fast-moving river (with a waterfall immediately downstream), you can only do it in slow motion, and the stone your foot is descending toward keeps wavering in and out of existence.

In that kind of situation, with the anxiety gathering like storm clouds full of electrical potential, any incident, thought, or situation can act like the tall tree or building which brings down the lightning of panicky thoughts and in more serious cases can even activate the fight-or-flight reflex.

For me, setting a big and long-term goal like "I'm going to be a long-term missionary in Taiwan" is easier than it is for some other people. I can take a goal like that and break it down into a strategy for getting there, and feel confident that each step along the way that relies on me can either be accomplished straightforwardly, or I can learn how to. (Having been homeschooled does help with that mentality, I think--I know I can teach myself what I need to know as long as the information is available)

But that very determination to reach a far-off and worthy goal means saying, to that part of you that wants to be tired, that wants to change to a more comfortable or easier goal, that isn't sure you're cut out to live so consistently outside your comfort zone, that wants to remind you of all the things outside your control that could happen to ruin your goal, that it needs to either cooperate or keep silent. It means thrusting down doubts or nervousness and moving forward step by step. But those doubts and nervousness and exhaustion don't always really go away. Sometimes they sink down into your unconscious, and take revenge later in the form of irrational anxiety.

I have learned, then, for someone who struggles with anxiety, your gut is not always to be listened to. That deep feeling of certainty, correctness, or warning, that any intuitively-minded person is familiar with, can be hijacked by anxiety and turn into a false alarm beacon warning that something is deeply wrong when nothing is more wrong than usual. The more you try to use logic and rational thinking to calm yourself down, the more that haywire intuition insists that you wouldn't need to be doing that if something wasn't already wrong.

But your gut is another form of intelligence too. Even for people with strong anxiety, it's not a good rule of thumb to simply always do the opposite of what your gut is saying. Thus there is another kind of wisdom one must cultivate; to know when your gut's alarm bells are giving you an important warning, and when it's just burnt popcorn.

That wisdom can grow, put down roots, and produce fruit, under the bright light of faith. Some people facing anxiety and uncertainty try to have faith "in the universe," that on the whole there's a kind of big goodness out there, or a sort of automatic karma calculator, which will help things work out for you as often as not, especially if you can keep a positive attitude. (New Age thinking, but it's so prevalent now that the adjective is outdated.)

But the universe doesn't have its own consciousness, and it's not your friend. Indeed, an argument often used against Christianity is the painful and seemingly nihilistic experiences many humans endure during their short (and often foreshortened) lives. You can't swerve from this to immediately claiming faith can have "the goodness of humanity" or "the positivity of the universe" as its object.

The perplexing nature of our world that can contain such beauty and such pain simultaneously is one reason I am a Christian. While the Bible does not explain many things we are curious about, it does explain exactly how the world arrived at this paradoxical state of interposed pleasure and suffering, beauty and ugliness, hope and despair. Anxiety comes from living in this kind of world, while maintaining worthy goals you strive to achieve despite uncertainty and recognizing many events are beyond your control.

Anxiety is not necessarily a lack of faith, then, although increasing faith is a good remedy for it. It can sometimes just be an overcharged recognition that the world is not okay, and it doesn't actually have any safety rails, only well-worn tracks and wilder cliffs that are no sure guarantee of security or danger. Yet, we still have to live in it, and with some amount of courage we can live with joy too.

Anxiety-prone people don't really have the choice to suddenly become that kind of person whose happiness partly stems from not contemplating possibilities, though as I mentioned there are physical aspects which can be improved. Perhaps more accurately, I don't want to shift "sideways" from being something who overthinks things, to someone who has figured out how not to think about things as much. I want to progress on, in faith, to being someone who can use overthinking for God's glory, but has the trust and courage to not suffer the side effects of anxiety, etc. These years God has given me some valuable puzzle pieces, which have helped me see the bigger picture, and step out of the back-and-forth struggle of trying to solve anxiety by thinking my way through it.

One step on the path to overcoming anxiety for me was thus a sort of Molon Labe*; yes my life could be uprooted and my goals undone at any point by events beyond my control, but I choose to wait until that happens and let it be a nasty shock that I deservedly experience grief and anger over, and not live in that anxiety ahead of time, as if that will somehow lessen the pain if the shock ever comes.
(* The famous Spartan response to the Persian Emperor's demand to surrender their weapons -- "Take them, if you can succeed in coming to do so")

Do people cling to anxiety for that reason, believing it's somehow paying down the deposit of future pain? I don't know, though at times I felt that was the unspoken lie I was being told. But I do know we can choose instead to climb out of our foxholes and run forward, even though life is like a battlefield where many soldiers don't survive based on their skill at arms but on where the enemy arrows or mortar shells shot into the sky randomly come down or don't. Because God is there, and all shall be well, even if an arrow strikes down into the middle of your goals, or health, or even life.

I am still making my way across that river, and on the mission field the stepping stones are not always clear. Sometimes it feels more like you have to wait for a log to float down the stream to make any forward progress. But each step is a step away from ignorance about the painful reality of life on this earth, not into despair or into comfortable apathy, but toward the firm foundation of faith that "whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul."

It is well.

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

5 Years in Taiwan: 5 Missionary Lessons Learned


(This is the first post in a 2-part series. This one is focused on missions, and the second post is more focused on personal lessons and realizations that have come with my time on the field)

A couple weeks ago marked the 5th anniversary of my arrival in Taiwan for long-term service. I was so busy I almost forgot about it altogether, and didn't do anything special to celebrate the occasion, but it's still a noteworthy date for me. Each of the 5 years here has been quite different, and come with its share of surprises, disappointments, and small successes. In this entry I'd like to share some things I've learned as a missionary over those years.

1. People in other metacultures think differently from you (in different ways than you think they do)

I spent a lot of time reading and researching the culture of Taiwan before I came to do full-time ministry here. I also had lots of short-term experience, probably quite a bit more than the average missionary coming into a culture long term. All that was only very partial preparation for understanding the different worldviews and ways of thinking that are prevalent in Taiwan, however.

What I found was that understanding a metacultural (metacultures like "Western" "Islamic" "East Asian" overly greatly diverse individual cultures to be sure, yet there are also meta-level commonalities and core values, and deeper differences from each other) level difference in thought is much more complicated than simply taking the way you would think about something and substituting a different cultural priority or core value. That's because the differences are not always parallel. People don't think as you think, just with different habits and priorities; you may run into people of greatly different cultures that you "click" with very naturally due to similarities in the way you think, and you may encounter people whose entire way of thinking seems to be a mystifying black box, with what comes out not seeming to be connected to what goes in.

My girlfriend and I have coined a useful term (useful for us, at least) in Mandarin for this idea, 想法法. (The way of your way of thinking) This differs between different personality types too, which is an added layer of complication beyond cultural differences. Using the Myers-Briggs types, for example, there are scenarios where a German or Korean ISTJ would react in very similar ways and "get" each other's way of thinking, where befriending the Korean ISTJ or a Korean ENFP early on in one's move to Korea might result in wildly different ideas about "how Korean people think."

So it's not as simple as saying "In this situation, I would be prioritizing clear communication to solve the problem but a Chinese businessman might be prioritizing indirect communication to save face." That's not wrong, but it doesn't go deep enough, because you are thinking of it as prioritizing clear communication to solve the problem, but the Chinese businessman, while probably aware of his own desire to save face, does not necessarily think of it as prioritizing indirect communication, just talking as one does in these situations. Furthermore he has his own personality, and in the complicated interaction of cultural worldviews and communication styles with individual personality and past experiences, it's hard to say which is the "head" and which is the "neck."

All that is to say, it's wise to understand cultural core values, and also wise to understand they're just one important piece of the puzzle. You want a fuller picture to navigate by, when at all possible.

2. Sometimes what we call culture fatigue is really environmental fatigue (and sometimes it's just fatigue)


More or less all long-term missionaries go through a stage called culture fatigue, which isn't the "shock" of early arrival but when those troublesome bits of the culture that are especially tiring or problematic for you or in your particular ministry context start to wear you down over time.

I've noticed, though, that the parts of "life here" that I find especially tiring are generally only partially related to the culture. For example, as I write this, New Year's Eve (Dec 31) was last night. There were some scattered fireworks and firecrackers, but the rain mostly kept things down. But if Chinese New Year's Eve this February falls on a good clear night, it will be firecracker armageddon. That one night of noise is cultural, and sleep is more or less impossible before 2 or 3AM.

But that's only the one night. Getting to sleep any night at my old apartment could be tough, because of the cars or motorcycles accelerating over the bridge near my apartment. In the U.S. there might be some rules about mufflers and things which would make a slight difference in noise levels, but not much. Essentially it's not a cultural problem at all, it's because my ministry area is near the edge of a metropolis of 7 million people. Living near a main road in a major U.S. city wouldn't be that different.

Many things we put down to culture shock are like that. It's not the culture, it's that as missionaries we have mostly chosen to live in a different environment than the ones we grew up in, or would choose to live in as adults. There are aspects of that environment that are rewarding and fascinating, and some that are inconvenient or exhausting.

Beyond that, I've noticed that when I'm exhausted, I'm in good company here. It's not as if everyone here has things good and I'm the outsider forced to struggle. Life is hard for many people, and Taipei is full of people working long hours for never-rising wages. The rampant insomnia, seasonal pollution, sometimes overcrowded metro stations, and capriciously steamy hot or clammy cold weather are all things we face together. It is true that I gave up a comparatively comfortable and less exhausting life in the States to live here and do what I do, but I knew that would be the case, and my life here is full of conveniences and comfort unknown to missionaries here decades ago, or in many other parts of the world.

So now when I'm exhausted, I don't think "I need a break from Taiwan," because it's not really about what's different about life here, and everyone else is tired too. What I really enjoy is a break in Taiwan, to do those things that made me fall in love with the place to begin with.

3. The Church may be part of the problem, but it's also the point (and the only lasting progress)


The Church is an easy target sometimes. With 2000 years of history and immeasurable impact on the world, the power and influence that accumulates in the earthly shadow cast by the kingdom of God has attracted many sinful people who did terrible things in the name of Christ, let alone the fact that believers with careers that place them in the public eye often come under heavy spiritual attack and commit grievous sins.

All this is fodder for those who want to commit the genetic fallacy and tar the Church with the sins of her individual saints (plus pretenders and wolves in sheep's clothing), as if middle-schoolers failing or cheating on their math tests should cast some kind of doubt on the legitimacy of number theory.

That being said, the Church in any locale has her problems and dysfunctions, and local churches can abound with them. Taiwanese churches have their share as well, both systemic problems sometimes accidentally introduced by missionaries doing the best they knew to do years ago, and problems in individual churches where people ought to do better, but have other priorities, just like sinful but redeemed people in any part of the world. (If I can name two examples of problems I see in churches here, one is a reliance on materials or programs from outside of Taiwan; plenty of both are available from Korean and Western churches, and little to none of it was developed in Taiwan for the needs of Taiwan. Simply translating it to Chinese doesn't make it locally effective. Another problem is that there are too many very small churches with a pastor or minister who can barely keep things going, and a congregation--often grandparents plus a few dutiful children or grandchildren--that expects all spiritual work to be done by the pastor, while most young people flock to a few large churches with better resources and an effective student ministry. Neither of these problems are anyone's "fault," but they both contribute to gridlock in effective church growth here)

When attempting to make any plan work smoothly, it's typically best to involve as few people as possible. When attempting to make any plan work smoothly when working cross-culturally with churches and church leadership, well, just don't expect that. If it didn't develop organically in the churches themselves, it probably means trying to change church culture and habits. It's not impossible, and there are wonderful success stories, but it can be tough and messy at the best of times. I've even see cultural insiders with good reputations trying to pitch ideas and completely failing because they didn't understand the culture and leadership attitude of that particular group of churches.

Due to all this, there are times when missions organizations find it easiest to work outside the domain of the local church, doing their own thing and answering to their own leadership, and interacting with churches when it's part of the strategy, or when conditions are favorable. Sometimes this happens automatically with apostolic-type church planting, in new areas where there are few or no churches to cooperate with. Perhaps too frequently, church planting is done apostolic-style because of the churches nearby.

While it's true that some churches simply aren't ready, willing, or able to cooperate effectively, we must never lose sight of the fact that the local church is the Body of Christ, incarnated in a particular area. When missionaries leave, whether to another field, retirement, or to permanently cast off the perishable, the local church, however it is, remains. One of our top priorities should be figuring out the best way to leave it healthier than we found it, yet not in ways that introduce dependency on outside resources.

4. Church planting is less about the plan (and more about the planters)


As we've tried different outreaches and activities for evangelism and to grow this little neighborhood church, two things that have become apparent is that 1) there wasn't a strong plan at the outset on how to plant the church, but also 2) that it wouldn't have mattered much because in our context, so much is based on factors we can't control. What rapidly also became apparent is that church planting is a holistic spiritual challenge that requires experience and discipline in a variety of areas. Neither my local coworker nor I had participated in a church plant before, and the past few years have been... highly instructive.

What became glaringly obvious in hindsight, after some experience, was that our team wasn't diverse enough to tackle evangelizing our neighborhood ad hoc. If you're planning an outreach aimed at families (recognizing that that mainly means moms and kids here, with the occasional dad making an appearance), you need female coworkers who can follow up with the moms that show up, and who have at least some spiritual gifting and preferably a little experience in doing so. As a youngish unmarried man, but also a foreigner here, the people I'm able to follow up with are a more selective group, and not one that typically showed up for the kinds of events and outreach strategies we used.

Temporary additions of short term workers have filled in some of the gaps in our "potential discipleship coverage", but their return home generally saw the people they attracted disperse. With a good impression of our ministry and Christians in general, to be sure, but still absent. As my Taiwanese coworker once sagely remarked, "guanxi doesn't transfer": the relationships you build with people over time can't be transferred to a coworker when it's time to leave just because you were working for a common goal.

Some basic lessons for any new community-based evangelistic ministry emerge:

1. The team should look roughly like who you're trying to reach

(Compatibility for follow-up and future discipleship should be built in, not a happy accident that requires special acts of grace to see)

2. The team should be stable, or have a stable supply of shorter term help

(And have a plan for how their period of service fits into the long term ministry goals)

3. There should be ties to the local church, however local that needs to be

(If your church is the local church, it's still a good idea to reach out to others when applicable)

4. The team should determine which things can be experimented with, and which can't be redone

(Example: Your first outreach event in a neighborhood will leave a lasting impression. People who meet you will talk to other people. Those times and events need more planning to make sure they are in line with important ministry goals, or you'll be making things tougher for yourselves at the start.)

5. We can do this (better)


When I went to seminary, I had the sort of idea that after 2000 years of perusing the same scriptures from every possible angle, what theology could be humanly known had been pretty much worked out (with, of course, various schools of thought on certain doctrines and the meaning of certain scripture passages) and we were going to learn it. What I learned instead was that while the dogmas and central doctrines of the faith have been established since the councils, there is in fact much work to be done. For example, efforts are ongoing to find period manuscripts to help decipher the hapax legomena, the words only mentioned once, to bolster our interpretations of them. The internet has provided a way for people to easily access exegetical tools and communicate biblical knowledge (enabling the promulgation of weird and apocryphal ideas to be sure, but also exposing isolated church communities to basic sound doctrine), and furthermore the task of rightly dividing the Word of God is always a new adventure, since new generations with fresh worldviews and priorities are always being born to learn of and experience God and His unchanging truth for the first time.

I had wondered if missions was not similar; if over hundreds of years of taking the gospel into different cultures, and often over a hundred years of experience in different mission boards and sending agencies, some basic effective gospel strategies and organizational wisdom had been accumulated, and the main difficulty would be the doing of it, the on-the-ground work of learning the language, building the relationships, etc.

Not so. What I found instead is that each wave/generation of missionaries comes with their own backgrounds and preconceptions, and the cultures they go to reach are sometimes changing faster even than their home cultures. (Taiwan is one example. The societal change over 3 generations here has been more like the change over 5 generations in the U.S.) What "worked so well" (I don't use quotation marks to question the truth of the statement) when some missionaries arrived seems bafflingly unfruitful when new missionaries arrive decades later, because it's a new generation witnessing to a new generation. The wine needs to be transferred to new wineskins, at times and frequencies and in ways that only wisdom, experience, and careful observation can determine well, and those things don't often line up in the joyful and stressful confusion of cross-cultural life and work. Sometimes highly motivated missionaries do great work for the kingdom, then retire, leaving a hole which cannot really be filled (and too often there was no plan or attempt to do so).

These things can't really be changed, not to mention that much kingdom fruit can only be seen when the Spirit begins to do the work we can't; so many "successful strategies" are merely a case of a mighty wind filling all sails faithfully raised, not that that particular design of sail is the one that should be used everywhere. There is a very frustrating lack of reproducibility for anyone with a business or technical background. It seems common to revert to that mentality, and seek shelter in those kinds of strategies and ministries where results can be reliably obtained through human effort.

But on the other hand, many changes in the world and society are not detrimental to the missionary task, yet missionaries have not yet, or only just, begun to make use of them. To keep up our theme of this post, here are 5 examples:

A. Use the powerful language learning tools that exist


The days of landing in a new country daunted by the prospect of a new language and enduring a stressful and possibly tearful ordeal acquiring the new language, "like drinking from a fire hose" as many vividly describe the process, in many cases can and ought to be over.

I met many exchange students from China while in seminary in Dallas (many of whom found Christ and joined churches while there, praise God). I was surprised at how good some of their English was; it wasn't just a large memorized vocabulary, but they had a strong and natural command of conversational English. I asked them how their English had gotten so good before they came to the U.S., and a few replied matter-of-factly that they'd done video chat classes with teachers in the U.S. for a while before leaving China.

So many tools are now available for widely-spoken languages that once missionaries are officially in the preparation phase for their mission, there's not really any reason not to start learning the languages then. In a new environment and culture, there are so many other challenges to face and lessons to learn that letting the full brunt of new language acquisition hit at that time is best avoided if possible. These days it can be possible.

I recognize there are two major exceptions to this: 1) When you are transferring from one field to another. Learning a language at the outset when highly motivated is one thing; adding another language on top of that one while transitioning from one busy ministry field to a less familiar one is another. 2) When you need to learn a local language, not a global one. That still doesn't stop you from video chatting with locals months before you leave, but it means fewer materials are available, and preparation for distance learning needs to be set up ahead of time.

However what I'm arguing for is more a change in attitude. Build language learning into the process of Going, and decrease its status as a barrier to people wanting to serve. I have been told that, being at least somewhat gifted with languages, I'm underestimating the stress and challenge it is for others. I understand that it's not the same for everyone, since for example as a naturally reserved introvert making new friends cross-culturally is fairly challenging for me, where it's easy for some others. But that just underlines my point; if learning languages doesn't come naturally for many people, why not make full use of the wide range of tools modern technology places at our disposal?

B. A Culture of "discipling Your replacements"


One way to reduce the impact of experienced missionaries leaving big gaps in their wake, would be if a Timothy or a bunch of them were already there when it was time for Paul to go. This is certainly no easy task, and would require a massive time and energy investment. I also know that some missionaries serve in capacities that would make this difficult. However we see both Jesus and Paul using a strategy not of "taking time away from their own ministry to disciple others", but of taking people with them to do what they do.

If a culture of discipling and mentoring (a loaded word, there's probably a better one) as an essential component of ministry was built into our missions mentality, we wouldn't view it as "taking time away from our primary ministry responsibilities" to disciple, but would always be seeking friends to minister alongside us, and discipleship would happen through that, not in spite of or apart from it. 

I believe 5 years in is not too early to be thinking about this, and it's something I want to work on in 2019. If I had to leave in 5 more years, who would step in to continue the work? Or would I simply leave, taking not only the accumulated knowledge and experience of those years with me, but leaving an empty hole in the midst of the relationships I'd invested in during those years?

What if instead I had already been inviting both newer missionaries and younger people to work alongside me for years already, who can build those relationships as I do (and perhaps faster than I do), and step in to lead those ministries when I'm not available? (And be ready to lead their own) It seems worthwhile to make this a priority to a far greater degree than I've personally seen on the field, both in and out of church.

C. Millennials are natural missionaries, but need leadership


My generation, especially its younger cohort, is continually decried as fragile and unmotivated. They have left the Church in droves, and seem to have an inexplicable lack of interest in avidly pursuing the American dream. What does motivate them, to a large degree, are causes they perceive to be worth investing one's time and energy in. It grieves me that the Church missed this. At a time when an idealistic generation was growing up with the connectivity of the internet ingrained in their psyche and a peak of post-WWII resources behind them, the Church said something along the lines of: "Sit tight, we've pretty much got this Church thing figured out smoothly. Just keep showing up for the sake of showing up and some day (very far in the future), all this can be yours."

Meanwhile the World said: "Hey, young, inexperienced idealists who want to make your mark on the world. Have you noticed how unfair the world is? Let's fight injustice together!" Secular ideology provided a cause that seemed worth fighting for. The Church at first reflexively avoided this thrown-down gauntlet, and nowadays seems to be belatedly trying to gain credibility by jumping on the social justice bandwagon. (It's like much of the Church lives in a bubble 5-10 years thick. But I digress.) But it nearly lost a generation in the process, at least for now. (Only time will tell what older millennials will decide to do)

What many Millennials seem quite willing to do at any time, is reject American dream-style materialism in favor of joining causes that seem more important, on becoming the change they want to see. That's one component of a missionary spirit, but so much of it got wasted on whatever internet cause de jour or social marxist movement took the place of the soul-transforming calling that Christ has laid upon every believer. There is no power that can make the world a better place than regenerated souls on their way to another world while focused on His kingdom. Why were we not led by mature believers into that perilously joyful adventure? Is it too late to start now? (I don't think so)

D. Try more field-based recruitment


Missionaries tend to have some pretty good stories. We can also explain exactly what we're up to and how we need help, in ways that are tough for sending organizations or churches to do secondhand. Why leave most of the work of recruiting up to them? I know different organizations have different structures and procedures, but it seems natural for those who have Gone to invite others to join them in the good work that's going on.

A culture of fields or ministry focus areas keeping in better touch with their supporting churches and reaching out to others not merely to meet support requirements, but with the faithful expectation that God will lead some people who hear to come get involved with the work, might change the picture of shrinking numbers of missionaries in many fields.

Some fields in my organization have done this with success, but it took a concentrated effort and it also takes a certain number of missionaries involved to become "self-sustaining" in that sense. I believe in the Church of the 2020's, this will be an increasingly effective strategy, as it's likely that the culture in the West will continue changing in ways that make sending agency's work (and perhaps survival) harder, not easier.

E. Make it less... dramatic (?) at the outset


I am definitely speaking as a computer engineer-turned-missionary at this point, but I feel it's important to point out that the nature of long-work missionary work has a pragmatic quality to it. Yes, we seek to be all things to all people to win some, in cultures very different from our birth cultures, and it's a work only the Spirit can do in the hearts of those we seek to reach. Yes, I was "called" to Taiwan in that traditional sense that I wouldn't say is necessary to come serve God cross-culturally but definitely makes it easier in certain ways. (On the spectrum of "anxiously figuring out if you're heading in the right direction" vs. "gritting your teeth and enduring when it's tough" it pushes things much further toward the latter)

However, while a calling from God or deep conviction that inspires us to service can both push people out of the comfortable ruts of their normal lives and provide motivation when times are tough, emphasizing it so strongly and hyping up (for lack of a more respectful term) that decision to forsake everything and go to the ends of the earth, also throws up a huge barrier, one that may have been more appropriate for ages when missions agencies were focused on weeding out the unqualified from among their many applicants, not trying hard to connect with enough willing hearts and get them on the field to keep whole mission field areas from having to close up shop from lack of missionaries to continue the good work.

My own journey to the mission field certainly involved those moments of deep conviction to make the tough decisions to get here, but it was also partly inspired by visiting Taiwan and hearing missionaries share about very accomplishable tasks and needs, getting a more concrete idea of what actually needed to be done. My thinking before visiting any missionaries abroad was that I wasn't spiritual enough (or extroverted enough) to be a missionary. After visiting Taiwan and learning more, it became more a question of "Oh, there's a lot of good work for God's kingdom that needs to be done over there. It sounds like something I could learn to do... if I dare." The daring part is where some dramatic stories of God's leading and providence come in.

The World we live in provides a variety of well-defined life path options. Maximizing the comfort of your life, achieving noteworthy success, becoming the head of a happy and prosperous family, etc. As with so many things in the Church, it would be much more effective if instead of merely pointing at what the world offers/promotes and saying "missions means sacrificing all that," we actually cast a positive vision too, of what is gained and how deeply meaningful missionary life can be.

Missionary life is almost impossibly difficult at times, but life is like that anyway, even sometimes for people who spend most of their lives trying to avoid those kinds of difficulties. What better way to spend one's transient mortal life than in full-time service to your Creator, taking light into dark places, and sharing the beautiful truths of His word and watching lives be transformed by it?

The only things you can take with you to heaven are the friends God reached through you. If that's not a rational reason to jump in and get started in kingdom work, I don't know what is.