Missionaries

Used t’be I coont even spell it, now I are one!

As a child, up to the age of about 13, I attended Catholic church and Catechism with my mother and brothers and sisters, and I remember hearing a lot about missionaries.  I was also raised in California, and the fourth grade curriculum included California history which was full of information about Father Juanipero Serra who established missions along the California coast.  (We got to build sugar cube models of some of those missions, and even took a field trip to visit one.)  I’m sure it was in that context that I formed my perceptions about what a missionary is.  I had, and still have, to some extent, this vision of priests and nuns going into unchurched native cultures and converting the population.  That was accompanied by then ‘civilizing’ that population; meaning forcing them to give up their native beliefs and practices, put on clothes, adopt western ways, and be ‘Christian’.  My early days in the evangelical Christian community did little to change my perception of what a missionary is, except now in my mind a missionary didn’t wear frocks and collars or a habit, but rather they were a conservatively dressed white family who were civilizing the natives.  Because of this perception, for most of my life I’ve struggled with the term ‘missionary’.  Yet now, as it comes up in conversation, we refer to ourselves (and others do, as well) as ‘missionaries’.  Not because we feel like we’re missionaries in what our traditional perception of what that means, but really because it’s easier.  Rather than try to explain why we are in Africa and what we’re doing, it’s easier to say ‘we’re missionaries’.

But aren’t we all missionaries?  Whether it’s actively or passively, we’re all representing someone or something we believe in.  And by our words and actions we demonstrate our allegiances.  You won’t find the word ‘missionary’ in the Bible, but you can find ‘ambassador’.  It’s actually the word I prefer for what we’re doing here, Beth and I are ambassadors of what we believe in.  As Christians, we’re all certainly called to be Christ’s ambassadors, wherever we’re at.  For some it means ‘going out on the mission field’, the way we’ve been taught to believe (like going to Uganda or some other foreign place, wow), but I believe your mission field is wherever you’re at.  I know that what we’re doing here is what we are supposed to do, but it’s no more important than what anyone who is following Christ is doing.  It’s easy and tempting to say ‘I’m a missionary in Africa’ (maybe even impressive to some), but really we’re only doing what we know we are supposed to do.

Sometimes we hear how what we’re doing must be ‘so difficult; missionaries, in Africa!’  I probably haven’t done much to dispel that, but it’s just not true.  First, when you’re doing what you’re supposed to, God is not going to let it be too difficult.  That said, life here (for us) is not difficult anyway. Often frustrating, inconvenient at times, even mystifying sometimes (“really?”…), but overall pretty simple.  Uganda, and Jinja in particular, is easy.  Jinja is home to hundreds of missionary and humanitarian organizations, which means a large western presence, which results in a cottage industry catering to the westerners.  Restaurants, supermarkets, recreation, tours, and etc, are all available. And while Beth and I try to integrate ourselves with the local population, we certainly take advantage of those things.  On the YWAM base itself we have all the comforts of home. (They’re just not very comfortable, or well done. Actually what I’m hoping to change as part of my ‘calling’.)  What we’re doing is not for everyone, but it is for us, and it’s not hard.

Which is why, as of yesterday, we are back in Uganda.  After a great visit ‘home’ we’re back to a much quieter base than when we left.  The VTS girls are gone on holiday before going to their internships, the performing arts DTS is away on outreach, and there are no visiting teams.  On Monday we’ll get back into our routines (or maybe start new ones), but the weekend is for getting over jet lag, and reconnecting.

Thanks for all who made our visit home special.  It was great spending time with the family and friends we were able to, and apologies to those we missed.  The generous hospitality and sharing of time and resources we received is greatly appreciated.  The perks of being missionaries…

Suffering through another missionary meal  (At one of the restaurants we frequent in town) while playing peek-a-boo with a child at another table.