we can do better
I am sitting in my favourite spot in our living room, candle burning and folk music playing and coffee brewing and my mind rumbling. I can't seem to quench this lingering collection of thoughts (grievances? sorrows?) about missions, development and the Church and that (messy) space where they all meet.
A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a group of fellow Christians about a humanitarian effort led by a large American mission organization. This particular project involves large-scale donations of toys, hygiene products and school supplies to children in developing communities. Seems great, doesn't it?
Not quite.
I want so desperately to say that this initiative is good and whole. I want so desperately to tell people with all the right intentions that their deeds are making a difference. But I won't, and I can't. As people of the Way, we must do better. We are called to do better.
The grim reality is that such projects re-victimize people in the developing world by constructing a paternalistic relationship between the giver and beneficiary. Too often, well-meaning people making donations give whatever they want to give instead of what recipients actually need. We assume what communities need rather than ask. My Uncle, a missiologist I respect immensely, once shared a striking anecdote from his extensive work in the developing world, which illustrates this well. A few years ago, he met a young girl in East Africa who, when asked about the gifts she had received from North-American benefactors, answered: "All I ask for is the chance to go to school."
I believe wholeheartedly there is a better way to serve our brothers and sisters in developing communities than sending items (read: junk) made in the global work chain- a process which itself victimizes thousands of human beings through human rights violations and staggering environmental consequences. Though giving a child a toy might seem like a tangible way to help, our primary focus should instead be to empower local merchants and economies.
How? you might ask.
Consider helping the fundraising efforts of a local trade school, donating tools to rural farmers or steering financial donations toward helping a seamstress purchase a sewing machine. Ask partners in communities what is truly needed. Although it may not seem so glamorous, committing to a monthly monetary gift to a local non-profit organization is also an effective way to ensure donations are invested where the community's needs are (of course, one must emphasize the importance of extensively researching the practices and ethos of the organization beforehand).
These different types of acts of generosity circumvent cycles of dependency, empower locals and have the potential to revitalize economies. Giving a child a figure doll or inflatable volleyball, albeit a testament to good intentions and a sincere heart, probably won't. It just won't.
I was expressing these frustrations and was met with two all-too-familiar replies which make me shudder and think again and again, "We can do so much better."
Here they are:
1) Is this project not worth it if a single person is helped, or if a single person comes to Christ through it?
I hesitate immensely with this apologetic. Let's pretend someone told you that they invested millions of dollars in an initiative seeking to help children learn to read in the past year. They go on to tell you that, in reality, only one child had learned to read thus far. Would you tell them that their heart is in the wrong place, that they should quit and find another place to invest their money and an alternate area of interest? Of course not. But you certainly wouldn't tell them to keep doing what they are doing, either. I would hope you would encourage them to change their methods of approaching the issue, or distribute money differently so better results are yielded.
While I do not want to compare a child learning to read to the eternal implications of salvation, I contend that this example highlights the problem with this argument. If I am honest, it sounds like a sweeping statement which seeks to justify an undeniably poor management of resources in Christian development programs.
Before you call me anti-gospel, please know that my life has been utterly changed through the freeing salvation message of Christ. I am deeply committed to the Great Commission and believe it should be declared with boldness.
However, do we not want more from our Kingdom mission than a single person being helped? Is this a wise and prayerfully considered use of our God-given resources?
Moreover, if an evangelistic effort opens the door to one person but hurts a large number of other individuals in the process, I contend we must consider less harmful ways moving forward. Of course we want the gospel to be preached and received to the ends of the earth. Of course salvation is always something to celebrate. But I believe the Church is called spread the gospel in a way that is humble and filled with mutuality, meaning it may have to adapt its methods over time in order to better present the redemption story it shares.
I believe followers of Christ Jesus can share His gospel in a way that simultaneously empowers communities and their development, embodies an adequate allocation of resources (based on the biblical principle of stewardship) and leads to spiritual transformation, fundamentally rooted in understandings of soteriology. Proclamation and sustainability are not mutually exclusive: they both point us to the triune God. Why one without the other?
2) "These projects have incredible effects on us who live in the developed world and make us more grateful. They allow us to change our hearts and give more."
Lord have mercy. This narrative is perhaps one of the most troubling and heartbreaking ones to me. I hear it again and again, especially in the defence of short-term missions- which have increasingly been critiqued in the past decade within the Church and Christian academic circles.
Bottom line: Neither would our compassionate God of justice nor our Saviour Christ Jesus commend the commodification of the underprivileged for the sake of the rich. This is inherently antithetical to the Kingdom vision that Jesus asserted. Our God commands us to love the materially poor and serve them. He does not tell us to use them to make us and our children feel better about ourselves.
Before we dismiss our "less fortunate" brothers and sisters as effectively "lesser" than us, let us remember our Messiah was a man of colour Himself, coming from an undesirable area and whose life was spent alongside the poor and marginalized. Let us learn from his ethic of mutuality and empowerment.
Statistically speaking, such projects are not changing people in the developed world. If they did, we would see that North American churches would be giving more, shifting toward holistic consumption and getting further involved in work in the Global South and low-income communities. Studies, however, show quite the opposite.
So please (please) do not use poor children to teach rich children about how fortunate they are. It is wrong. It epitomizes a posture of superiority too often seen in development processes. I confess- I too have had this mindset in times past. I too have failed to see marginalized groups as image bearers of the living God. This pattern of sin must come to the fore of the collective consciousness of the Church toward true repentance and redemption.
Both these narratives are all too common in the North-American Church. I hear them again and again in this community I love deeply and call home- and this breaks my heart. I want more for us. I want more for the mission we hold dear.
But I have hope. Though these comments remain frequent (my recent conversation is a testament to this), I see a paradigm shift rising- barriers broken, dialogue shared, confessions spoken. Mission organizations are changing their approaches, and the voices of local communities are slowly being amplified. Praise be to God!
An acknowledgement and understanding of our dialogical and practical tendencies is the pathway to a sustainable praxis of partnership and empowerment in Christian development efforts.
Oh, gracious Father, forgive us. Keep us close.
A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a group of fellow Christians about a humanitarian effort led by a large American mission organization. This particular project involves large-scale donations of toys, hygiene products and school supplies to children in developing communities. Seems great, doesn't it?
Not quite.
I want so desperately to say that this initiative is good and whole. I want so desperately to tell people with all the right intentions that their deeds are making a difference. But I won't, and I can't. As people of the Way, we must do better. We are called to do better.
The grim reality is that such projects re-victimize people in the developing world by constructing a paternalistic relationship between the giver and beneficiary. Too often, well-meaning people making donations give whatever they want to give instead of what recipients actually need. We assume what communities need rather than ask. My Uncle, a missiologist I respect immensely, once shared a striking anecdote from his extensive work in the developing world, which illustrates this well. A few years ago, he met a young girl in East Africa who, when asked about the gifts she had received from North-American benefactors, answered: "All I ask for is the chance to go to school."
I believe wholeheartedly there is a better way to serve our brothers and sisters in developing communities than sending items (read: junk) made in the global work chain- a process which itself victimizes thousands of human beings through human rights violations and staggering environmental consequences. Though giving a child a toy might seem like a tangible way to help, our primary focus should instead be to empower local merchants and economies.
How? you might ask.
Consider helping the fundraising efforts of a local trade school, donating tools to rural farmers or steering financial donations toward helping a seamstress purchase a sewing machine. Ask partners in communities what is truly needed. Although it may not seem so glamorous, committing to a monthly monetary gift to a local non-profit organization is also an effective way to ensure donations are invested where the community's needs are (of course, one must emphasize the importance of extensively researching the practices and ethos of the organization beforehand).
These different types of acts of generosity circumvent cycles of dependency, empower locals and have the potential to revitalize economies. Giving a child a figure doll or inflatable volleyball, albeit a testament to good intentions and a sincere heart, probably won't. It just won't.
I was expressing these frustrations and was met with two all-too-familiar replies which make me shudder and think again and again, "We can do so much better."
Here they are:
1) Is this project not worth it if a single person is helped, or if a single person comes to Christ through it?
I hesitate immensely with this apologetic. Let's pretend someone told you that they invested millions of dollars in an initiative seeking to help children learn to read in the past year. They go on to tell you that, in reality, only one child had learned to read thus far. Would you tell them that their heart is in the wrong place, that they should quit and find another place to invest their money and an alternate area of interest? Of course not. But you certainly wouldn't tell them to keep doing what they are doing, either. I would hope you would encourage them to change their methods of approaching the issue, or distribute money differently so better results are yielded.
While I do not want to compare a child learning to read to the eternal implications of salvation, I contend that this example highlights the problem with this argument. If I am honest, it sounds like a sweeping statement which seeks to justify an undeniably poor management of resources in Christian development programs.
Before you call me anti-gospel, please know that my life has been utterly changed through the freeing salvation message of Christ. I am deeply committed to the Great Commission and believe it should be declared with boldness.
However, do we not want more from our Kingdom mission than a single person being helped? Is this a wise and prayerfully considered use of our God-given resources?
Moreover, if an evangelistic effort opens the door to one person but hurts a large number of other individuals in the process, I contend we must consider less harmful ways moving forward. Of course we want the gospel to be preached and received to the ends of the earth. Of course salvation is always something to celebrate. But I believe the Church is called spread the gospel in a way that is humble and filled with mutuality, meaning it may have to adapt its methods over time in order to better present the redemption story it shares.
I believe followers of Christ Jesus can share His gospel in a way that simultaneously empowers communities and their development, embodies an adequate allocation of resources (based on the biblical principle of stewardship) and leads to spiritual transformation, fundamentally rooted in understandings of soteriology. Proclamation and sustainability are not mutually exclusive: they both point us to the triune God. Why one without the other?
2) "These projects have incredible effects on us who live in the developed world and make us more grateful. They allow us to change our hearts and give more."
Lord have mercy. This narrative is perhaps one of the most troubling and heartbreaking ones to me. I hear it again and again, especially in the defence of short-term missions- which have increasingly been critiqued in the past decade within the Church and Christian academic circles.
Bottom line: Neither would our compassionate God of justice nor our Saviour Christ Jesus commend the commodification of the underprivileged for the sake of the rich. This is inherently antithetical to the Kingdom vision that Jesus asserted. Our God commands us to love the materially poor and serve them. He does not tell us to use them to make us and our children feel better about ourselves.
Before we dismiss our "less fortunate" brothers and sisters as effectively "lesser" than us, let us remember our Messiah was a man of colour Himself, coming from an undesirable area and whose life was spent alongside the poor and marginalized. Let us learn from his ethic of mutuality and empowerment.
Statistically speaking, such projects are not changing people in the developed world. If they did, we would see that North American churches would be giving more, shifting toward holistic consumption and getting further involved in work in the Global South and low-income communities. Studies, however, show quite the opposite.
So please (please) do not use poor children to teach rich children about how fortunate they are. It is wrong. It epitomizes a posture of superiority too often seen in development processes. I confess- I too have had this mindset in times past. I too have failed to see marginalized groups as image bearers of the living God. This pattern of sin must come to the fore of the collective consciousness of the Church toward true repentance and redemption.
Both these narratives are all too common in the North-American Church. I hear them again and again in this community I love deeply and call home- and this breaks my heart. I want more for us. I want more for the mission we hold dear.
But I have hope. Though these comments remain frequent (my recent conversation is a testament to this), I see a paradigm shift rising- barriers broken, dialogue shared, confessions spoken. Mission organizations are changing their approaches, and the voices of local communities are slowly being amplified. Praise be to God!
An acknowledgement and understanding of our dialogical and practical tendencies is the pathway to a sustainable praxis of partnership and empowerment in Christian development efforts.
Oh, gracious Father, forgive us. Keep us close.
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