Made Out of the Same Fabric

Here are two stories that make me smile.

            This little girl’s name is Zooeeah. She is an adorably shy little 4 year old. Her family is the closest neighbor of the missionary women I was living with. She has three older brothers. Now Zooeeah is a spunky little girl, stubborn sometimes, and willful. One time she was trying to do a task (I forget what it was) and she was having trouble. Several people asked if they could help her, including the white women and one of her brothers. No, she did not want their help. “I can do it,” she said. Along comes her oldest brother, Shada. He says, “Can I help you, Zooeeah?” She adoringly looks into his eyes and, in her cute little voice, says, “Eh (Yes).” Another time, Zooeeah was playing with a make shift “car.” It was really a stick with a jug attached at the end of it. She would push it around and pretend it was a car. She and her brother, Moody, who is closest to her in age, started fighting over it. He finally gave in to her, but she started crying. Her father looked up from where he’d been hoeing and observing, and said, “Why are you upset? You got what you wanted.” These stories make me smile because they show how similar people are even when their cultures are totally different. Little girls look up to their older (in her case, oldest) brothers in any culture! There is sibling rivalry too-and often it is between the siblings who are closest in age! People are the same, no matter where they live or in what circumstances. We have the same emotions of affection and frustration and desires for independence and attention. 

            The man in the picture above was my home-stay dad, named D'Atoo but called Baba Asha (Father of Asha). One time, a couple of the women went to visit his home. When they walked into the front of his fenced in “yard,” they found him in a very amusing situation. He was sitting on a stool with nothing on except a kanga (basically a piece of cloth that all the women wear over their skirts) wrapped around his waist. That picture is funny in and of itself. But two of his granddaughters were also there, and he was allowing them to braid his hair! All the people in the village have very short hair, and they are somehow still able to braid it into cornrows. It is not a manly thing to do though. This older man was sitting, wearing women’s clothing, letting his granddaughters braid his hair. That makes me smile because he was so patient with them, having fun allowing them to be silly. At one point he said, “Alright, that is enough. Stop now.” And they begged him to let them keep going. Don’t we all want people to let us be goofy and do silly things to them? I remember when my sister and I convinced our brother to let us dress him up like a girl, put make-up on him, and take pictures. It was a silly thing to do, but don't we all want to do things like that at one time or another?

You see, we are truly all made from the same fabric. Maybe we have different patterns, but the material is the same. God made us; He is the engineer. He has given us ways in which we can relate to each and every human being on the planet. He has created us to be unique too. In that way, we can share points of common interest, yet still learn new perspectives from our differences.

Jesus "Became a Motilone"

            While I was in Tanzania, I was required to read a book called Bruchko. It was very eye-opening to me and I would like to share with you some of the insights that I gleaned from it. There aren’t too many spoilers in here. I think you’d still be able to enjoy the book if you want to read it. It’s fast-paced and exciting!

            Bruchko is an autobiography of Bruce Olson, a missionary to the Motilone Indians. As a young man, Bruce had a fascination with studying the Bible in its original languages (Greek, Hebrew). Through his studies, he came to the realization that it is possible to have a personal relationship with Jesus, and his life was changed. He began to feel called to missions, though he experienced much opposition and rejection from his family, the mission board, and even Christians on the mission field. Undeterred, Olson pressed on to fulfill God’s call on his life, even when he had no earthly support whatsoever.

            Even though Olson’s way seemed unsure and his decisions almost reckless sometimes, God’s faithful guidance and provision are evident through the entire plot. Olson eventually reached the Motilone Indians, whom he had been called to serve. Everyone feared these Indians because no one had ever been able to venture close to them without being killed. God allowed a way for Bruce to live among them though. He patiently learned their language and culture and endured many hardships along the way.

            It was five years before God decided to open the door of the gospel to the Indians. God’s power was revealed in the way He spoke through the Motilone culture and provided salvation through the testimony of the first Motilone who accepted Christ. A revival swept across villages and through the entire tribe. The Motilones became a pillar of faith and evangelism throughout the country and beyond. Bruce’s humble existence in the remote jungle of Columbia changed the course of the Motilone people’s lives and even the entire country!

            One thing that struck me while reading this account is that God’s approval is far greater than man’s approval. When the mission board rejected Bruce, he realized that God was still calling him to go. He needed to follow God’s voice even if humans did not agree. A similar situation occurred when Bruce was with the Yuko Indians, before he met the Motilones. Bruce said, looking back, “The Yukos didn’t particularly want me to stay, but God did. And I would have to follow God” (77). Bruce was learning that rejection from people was not necessarily an indicator of direction from God or his ultimate worth or success in life.

            In the same way, many modern peoples have a negative view of more primitive, obscure people groups. People think they are worthless, unintelligent, unimportant. They reject them. But God does not. He wants them to have relationships with Him. He sent His Son to die for them. He created them. He sends missionaries so that they will hear the gospel. These unreached groups are important in God’s eyes, even though many people reject them.

            Another thing that struck me was the fact that God speaks into each culture so that people can have an understanding of who He is and how He relates to them. When salvation swept across the Motilone villages, the catalyst was Olson’s main companion, Bobby, the first man to receive Jesus. That man, being respected among his people, was able to explain the gospel to all his people during a festival, through a common way of telling important news—singing a song in a hammock.

            Bobby’s presentation of the gospel used analogies that made sense to his people and made Jesus a real, relevant Savior. For example, it is culturally appropriate in the U.S. to say, “I want to invite Jesus to live inside my heart.” For the Motilone culture, Bobby explained that they should, “tie their hammocks into Jesus.” That analogy makes sense to them because they sleep in hammocks. It is a metaphor of complete trust and dependence. Olson observed, “[God] had spoken in the Motilone language and through the Motilone culture. He had not even had to use me” (146). God had prepared the hearts of the Motione people to hear His Word. He placed different ideas into their culture, which made the gospel completely applicable, and he presented it in a familiar, culturally normative way.

            This truth opens my eyes to the vast variety of God’s character, that He can descend to every culture in the world because He created them all and cares for them. I realize that I can be closed minded and narrow in my thinking. My ideas can conform to the American ideas of Christianity, and be judgmental of anything different. I realize now that God is so much bigger than my idea of Him. God is not judgmental, and each people group sees Him a bit differently because of their backgrounds, upbringing, culture, and surroundings. This is not being pluralistic; it is simply not putting God in a box based on my own “American” preconceived ideas or misconceptions about how Christianity should be manifested and spread.

            Ultimately, Bruchko strengthened my faith in the sovereignty of God and his care and understanding of all peoples.

How Can They Believe in the One of Whom They Have Not Heard?

            “We don’t even know him!” The woman exclaimed, exasperated. The woman was confused by the story the missionary doctors had told her about Jesus. They had come for just a short-term clinic. Because the people were desperate for medical attention, they walked hours to get to the clinic (This sounds horrendous to Americans who hardly ever walk five minutes to the grocery store. Let it be known that this is more normal in Africa.). There they would hear stories about Jesus, the Savior of the world. And surely the Lord was planting seeds, whetting appetites, and glorifying his name by revealing it to these people, right? Yes, I choose to believe so with all my heart.

            But I also believe that those seeds would never be watered except for the long-term commitment of the missionaries that I had the joy of living with for one month. The story of the doctors and the Alagweesa woman is true, told to me by one of my companions in Tanzania. The missionary had overheard a conversation between some women about Jesus and the stories the doctors were telling. When she inquired, the village women admitted their confusion, and who could blame them? Without the missionaries faithful presence, their efforts and successes to live among the villagers, learn their language and culture, the Africans could go to their graves without understanding the truth behind the stories they were told about Jesus.

            You see, for these Africans, Jesus does not fit into their worldview. Their worldview is a mixture of superstitious tribal customs, witchcraft, and Islam. When you mention Jesus, they think, “Oh, it is all good. You and I, we worship the same god. Oh, it is all good.” Their pluralistic thinking stems from their willingness to half-heartedly accept Islam while continuing to practice their traditional customs. What’s the difference if they add one more religion to the mix? The problem is also that they have no contextual knowledge of the Bible, of Creation and the Fall. Without growing up with that foundation, it is understandable that they would be confused by Jesus’ seeming importance—their Redemption.

            That is why the goal of the Christians I was living with is to do far more than just present the gospel to the villagers. They want to live with them, learn from them, immerse themselves in the culture and language, build relationships and trust, and share the gospel through everyday life.  Already, they have lived in the village for over a year, yet the first year was mainly language learning and relationship building. They have shared their beliefs through the way they live. God has blessed them with good relationships among their neighbors and language helpers. It is no secret that they are Christians. Since their language skills have greatly progressed, they have recently started doing tri-lingual church services in the village (Alagweesa, Kiswahili, English). In order to do these services, they ask their language helpers to assist them to ensure their translation of the Bible is correct and their sermons make sense grammatically. They have also started personal ministries with small groups of people. Two women teach English to some children who are motivated and want to move on to better education. Another woman reads the Bible individually with women, one of whom was rescued from demon possession.  Because of this, several people have been exposed to the gospel and the Christians have been able to talk with people and pray over them about issues such as demon possession and faithfulness in marriage.

            None of these things would be possible if the Christians had not lowered themselves to becoming learners—learners of culture, language, lifestyle, and humility. And this is only the beginning for them. Their ultimate goal is to present stories of the Bible in the Creation-Fall-Redemption sequence. Therefore, the people can understand the context for Jesus and why he is important to them. It is important that the missionaries have a grasp of the local culture and have firm relationships, because they need to be able to relate the gospel directly to that culture.  As God reveals himself uniquely to each person, he also reveals himself uniquely to each culture. In order for the gospel to be relevant to a people group, they must have it relate to things that they already know.

            For instance, Bruce Olson  (Bruchko) did not preach the gospel until he had lived with the Motilone Indians for five years. When he did preach the gospel, he knew the culture. He was able to relate the gospel to things that the Indians understood. They had a story of a man who became an ant so that he could help them build better homes and not scare them away. That is a parallel to Jesus becoming like humans to save us and not to punish us. That is how Bruchko presented the gospel to them—by using language and ideas that made sense to their culture.

            In the same way, the missionaries I was with have to find creative ways to relate the gospel to the Alagwa culture.  There is already one way they know that the gospel relates. There is a custom in the tribe that, if there has been an extremely devastating rift in a relationship (like recently when a man was angry and tried to kill his son), then, in order to restore that relationship, an animal must be sacrificed and the guts of the animal have to be smeared on both people. Only then can the two be reconciled. In the same way, Jesus was the sacrifice that allowed our relationship with the Lord to be reconciled.

            So, presenting the gospel requires long-term commitment, strong relationships and trust, and cultural knowledge and understanding. For the people to receive and understand the gospel, they need to understand the biblical context for Jesus, his importance, and their need for salvation, and be presented with it in their appropriate cultural context.

            Of course, God works in even the smallest of actions and He calls people to Himself in all sorts of ways. Therefore, what I have just stated is by no means a formula that one hundred percent always brings salvation. Only the Holy Spirit brings salvation to the hearts of men. We are but His vessels. We try to understand other people though and think about being in their shoes. What would make you more likely to believe a message that someone was telling you? Would you accept it if they were strangers and began their message mid-way through, with people’s names that you didn’t recognize, and figures of speech that made no sense to you? It might make you curious, but would you really care to listen? Or would you accept it if it were a friend that you trusted and he told you from the beginning, explaining who the characters were and using phrases that made sense to you?

            I’d venture to guess that the second one is more likely to be your choice. And, if you think about it, Jesus did the same thing by coming down to live among us. He “emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men…he humbled himself” (Phil. 2:7,8). We would not have listened to Him if He had stayed in heaven and made a way for salvation from His lofty abode. No, and we are called to have the same attitude as Christ (Phil 2:5). Therefore we need to humble ourselves to get to know the people around us, care for them, and understand through God’s perfect discernment how they would best receive the gospel—and then share it!

My Home-stay Family

Culture Shock

            During the first week of my time in the Alagwa village, another lady and I spent three days with a local family in their mud-brick, tin-roof, three-room home. As we walked into their “front yard,” which was enclosed by a crudely made fence of thin tree trunks laying horizontally and connecting to vertical posts, we were greeted by the wretched smell of feces and dirtiness. The smell’s culprit was the penned in cows (yawa), donkey (dokwey), and goats (ara) that were no more than 10 or 15 feet from the entrance to the house (do’oh). A wrinkly-faced lady with missing teeth greeted us along with her teenage daughter and two of her grandchildren who live with her. After we greeted them, they tried to talk more to us in their tribal language. We just smiled and shrugged our shoulders. They became our host family.

            During those three days, we began to learn about the Alagwa way of life. We would wake up with the sun, eat a sweet potato and drink chai. Then, we would hoe in their closest field, which was right outside their fence. We would then take buckets and dirty dishes to the river, wash the dishes, fill the buckets with water, and take them back…on our heads. Next was lunch, which consisted of their staple dish called Ugali (Kiswahili) or Fa’ah (Alagweesa). This dish consists of ground corn or bolsoro (green plant), cooked and stirred in boiling water. When it’s done, it has a sort of play-dough consistency. A bowl of Fa’ah is placed in the center as everyone sits on stools around it. You take a chunk of the fa’ah and dip it into one of the side dishes, which can range from ground up leaves cooked in onions and tomatoes (tastes like spinach), sour milk, beans, goat broth, or other things. The main side dish that they love the most is best described as a green slime.            

            These three days were the hardest for me. After a while of eating the same gross food twice a day, I got sick to my stomach with the thought of eating at all. Thank the Lord for the mango I was able to have on the third day! I felt like it was the best food I’d ever tasted. It was also hard to bear the way they treated their animals, especially their dogs and puppies. The puppies were so cute and cuddly, but they were not considered pets and they were regularly hit with sticks, causing them to yelp pitifully. Also, communication was a huge barrier and, by the end of each day, I was exhausted from trying to communicate and listen to their foreign words. This period was the peak of my culture shock, as I experienced new surroundings, language, food, and ways of doing things.