If we care, we will preserve the dignity of those on the receiving end of our mission efforts. We will refrain from using them as objects in the quest to defend and promote our church or our idea.
Photo: [link]M. Rajabi[/link], Unsplash, CC0
A commodity—something that is bought and sold.
Mission—the loving and joyful response of Christ’s followers to disciple the nations, holding forth Jesus’ life and teaching among all the peoples of the world.
In theory the two appear to be very distinct concepts. In reality, mission is intricately related to the resources (finance, personnel and information) that fuel it.
There is much to celebrate in that relationship. The generosity of Christ’s church enables her to assist brothers and sisters throughout the world to make Christ’s love known in seeking assistance to the poor, justice for the oppressed and reconciliation of human beings to God through the gospel.
Despite all the good that has been done by generous giving, there is also a dark side to this inter-dependence between mission and money. This is not intended to censure solid ministry initiatives that benefit from external funding. It is a note of caution—a plea for practice that better aligns with the nature of the gospel—good news of new life freely given.
Perhaps an image will help. Consider the desert wadi. When the spring rains come, its arid dust is overcome by a torrent of rushing water producing a double effect. On the one hand, the deluge moves stones and debris becoming a lethal threat to anything in its path, whether animal life or even unfortunate hikers. On the other hand, vegetation springs forth overnight as the desert is transformed into a verdant valley.
Mission funding is a powerful force flooding the Middle East like a spring deluge through a desert wadi. It changes the entire environment, sometimes doing great good, but with the potential to do great harm. In this blog, I consider the potential for harm.
I’ll identify three areas of concern before indicating a few resources for further exploration.
Mission and church leaders are compelled to ensure that the outcomes of mission are commensurate with the investment of personnel, time and finances. To put it in crass economic terms, we need to get our money’s worth.
Granted, this begins with a wholesome concern for stewardship of resources. We feel the need to count (churches planted, new believers, children educated, refugees housed, etc.) to ensure that resources are well-used. Data is necessary to sustain the effort. We need statistics, numbers. Nevertheless, our fascination with data often bears dubious fruit. Numbers are manipulated. Statistics are stretched. Exaggerations abound in order to fit criteria established by the “investors.”
I recall working alongside a young national who administered a Christian media ministry. In a report submitted to the funding agency, my friend mystifyingly multiplied the number of respondents by 100. I read the report with shock and incredulity. My friend, at first, denied the fabricated statistics but eventually admitted that he feared the loss of funding and inflated the numbers accordingly.
The drive for data, like the desert deluge, exerts pressure on the whole chain of mission, from sending church to field practitioner to indigenous church and believer. It operates much like the chain of supply and demand, leading to a palpable sense of the commodification of mission.
The contemporary explosion of media has a massive impact on Christian outreach in the Middle East both for good and for ill. Images tell stories and move emotions. Photos and film taken during ministry trips end up on social media and church and ministry videos. No doubt the medium is powerful. It raises awareness and motivates to action.
But where are the ethical boundaries? Would those photographed give permission for their image to be used in such ways and what material benefit do they derive? Do they even have a sense of how their photo will be used?
I find evidence of commodification in our mission jargon. Sometimes when I hear mission theorists and practitioners talk, I wonder who outside the mission community (including nationals) could understand what they are talking about. The jargon includes DBS, DMM, C1 – C5, insider movement, insider translations, MBB, BMB, CBB, contextualization, CPM and the list could go on.
No doubt, these technical terms and acronyms can be useful shorthand in communication. Nevertheless, they can also become polarizing ideas that spark endless debate among us. Often they serve as code words—language that others inside the industry can understand, helpful to identify and quantify the means and results of our mission.
Let’s keep in mind that these terms are used to label persons… Real persons who might never choose to identify themselves that way. Actually, none of these terms originates from the people (whether Muslim or Christian) or languages of the Middle East. They are all imports from economically and educationally advantaged societies, applied to the objects of our study and our “mission”. Our language itself becomes a tool to put others into categories in an attempt to describe our productivity. Unwittingly, we commodify those we are sent to serve and love.
I recently overheard a conversation with a North African Church leader—a faithful and articulate individual whose passion and concern for Christ’s church is unquestionable. He spoke of foreign missionaries who come into his small fellowship, and take away believers to start a new church or movement. He indicated that these expatriate workers are under pressure from their churches or agencies to produce results.
The short-term interests of the mission agency are pitted against the long-term vision of a local church. Tragically, the result is the decimation of that church. He observed that the drive to establish a “church-planting movement” is ripping the fabric of the church in his country. How ironic!
Recently, I was surprised by my own internal reaction to a Western visitor who expressed her excitement over several conversion stories. For this enthusiastic visitor, the goal had been reached. “Souls were saved.” I, however, immediately thought of familial and societal implications which would need to be addressed head-on in discipleship. I saw a long slog ahead with many challenges and I found myself wondering if these new believers would be as encouraged in the long haul of discipleship as they had been in their new profession.
Examples of this shallow understanding of the Middle Eastern context abound. For example, there is an inordinate number of books by Western pastors and Christian leaders that are translated into Arabic and massively distributed in the Middle East. No doubt, many translated books have been a source of great blessing in the region.
Nevertheless, because Christian books in the Middle East don’t normally turn a profit, Christian publications are only sustainable if they have strong financial sponsorship. Therefore, the well-endowed ministries in the economically advantaged world are able to translate and publish their books in attractive formats. Meanwhile, there are scores, perhaps hundreds of local authors and aspiring writers whose works will never see the light of day, or perhaps be minimally distributed because there is little or no financial support for their publications. In the final analysis, the church is left with shelves of books dealing with issues of great concern in Western societies. The development of local writers addressing local issues can be impeded rather than enhanced by our mission efforts.[1]
To check this tendency toward commodification of mission we have to be aware and we have to care.
The apostle said that he and his ministry team was:
“Gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us” (I Thess 2:7-8).
Paul’s relationship with the Thessalonians was deeply personal, built on a thorough understanding of their context and coupled with the affection of a loving spiritual father. If we care, we will preserve the dignity of those on the receiving end of our mission efforts. Our concern will be holistic, for their well-being, not only their salvation. We will refrain from using them as objects in the quest to defend and promote our church, our ministry, or our idea.
A ministry of this kind is unlikely to appear “sexy.” It may move slower as it seeks to ensure a healthy reciprocity. Procuring funding is unlikely to be the priority. It will, however, be a true representative of a Savior who went to the uttermost limit of our alienation in order to reconcile us and return us to the fold of his friendship. It will be a ministry of the gospel.
- Corbitt, Steve and Fikkert, Brian. When Helping Hurts. Moody Publishers, 2014.
- Das, Rupen. Compassion and the Mission of God: Revealing the Invisible Kingdom. Langham Global Library, 2016.
- Missions Dilemma. (A video series by Steve Saint).
- Saint, Steve. The Great Omission: Fulfilling Christ’s Commission Completely. YWAM Publishing, 2013.
- Wright, Christopher. “Holistic Mission.”
Mike Kuhn, Assistant Professor of Discipleship and Biblical Theology at the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary.
This article was first published on the blog of the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary, and was re-published with permission.
This is a revised version of a post that was published by IMES on October 20, 2016.
[1] I’m thankful for some Christian organizations such as Langham Partnership that break the mold by seeking to promote scholarship in the developing world.
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