The time is here. You've asked. and now I'm here to answer.
If you're playing catch-up, I've reminded the people of Facebook that I've now been a Christian missionary in Central America for three months and invited them to ask me anything. So let's jump right in!
Matthew Escobar Blair Sr. – What would your answer to this question be if it weren't rhetorical?
A – Yes. Obviously. Next question please.
Josh H – How awesome is your beard now and what do you project the beard's awesome levels will be like before your return?
A – Rating the awesomeness of my beard might depend entirely on your opinion of what makes a beard awesome.
But let's just skip the rating scale for a moment and say I basically look like Zangief, the massive Russian fighter that wrestles brown bears in the remote areas of Siberia. Except I'm not nearly as large. . . Nor am I Russian — but I'll leave the part about the bears up to your imagination.
Projecting what my beard might be like by the end of the race is a tough call. My original intention was to let it grow out the entire 11 months, but it's not an easy commitment to make for a guy that prefers a fairly tidy look. Do I grow it out strong, in honor of those on the squad that can't do so? Or do I cut it short, and look like a civilized human being? The choice is more difficult than it might sound. But looking like Zangief is fun for now.
Ken P – What has made the greatest impact on you living in another culture?
A – One big thing living in another culture has showed me is a flaw of our own culture – we're obsessed with time, schedules, and doing things. Sure, maybe we've heard this before, but after experiencing the contrast first-hand, the idea is more poignant. Our culture's habits really feel a lot less like efficiency, and much more like a self-absorbed distraction from life.
Being efficient and busy isn't necessarily a flaw, but in the process, I feel like we cast aside relationships, community & togetherness, and even the idea that we are people with needs, emotions, and limits. After a few months of being outside of the States, part of me desperately wants to return to a lifestyle where I get to regularly sit at a table with people and actually be together and aware of each other, rather than buried in social media and "conversations" through text messages. It makes me want to focus more on using free time to develop community, rather than expand my checklist of Netflix and YouTube videos watched alone on my laptop. It makes me want to turn off the brain-numbing entertainment for a few hours and meditate on scripture. There's a simplicity that we're losing in America, and although I love technology, I don't want to throw it out for the sake of modern social conventions, and a busy culture.
Karen M – What do you feel is the most important thing that you have taught while there?
A – If you're asking the most important thing I've taught another person, I haven't had a ton of teaching opportunities so far. But out of the few times I've taught, I'd go with teaching some teen boys about the importance of purity and finding our value in Christ, rather than in another person, in an ability or talent, or in the things we own.
If you're asking about what I've been taught so far, it probably goes along similar lines. The most important thing I've learned about myself is a clearer picture where confidence and humility meet — that we have (and should embrace) our confidence in Christ — that through Him, we are worthy, we are qualified, and we are capable. At the same time, in our humility, we know that all those qualities come from Him and are because of Him, and not of our own greatness — that we aren't worthy, we aren't qualified, and we aren't capable.
So in meditating on these truths, we can find sober judgment in regard to our self-image. If we are lacking any confidence, we should remember and think on God's great gift. If we find ourselves boastful, we should remember that it isn't by or work or effort that we are the way we are, but instead by the grace and mercies of God through Christ Jesus that we can be called sons and daughters. Both responses lead to worship.
Aaron D – What has been the best moment and the most difficult moment so far?
A – Best moments are difficult to pick so far, in part because it gets hard to define best. Best ministry moments are vastly different than best traveling-related experiences. I've had many great personal moments so far, and expect (and hope) many more will come. At this point, nothing stands out as a good "best" story, so for now, instead of telling several short stories, I'll move on to most difficult.
In El Salvador, there were a few days where my team was visiting a local boys and girls home. It's a family-style ministry, where the married couple has several teen girls, some of them moms, living in their home. Down the road a ways, they have a small (and not "American small") apartment for the boys to live in. The single room consists of tile flooring, two bunk beds, and a corner with a small metal table with a few burners on it for heating water and other small stovetop cooking. Other things the boys own are stacked up along the walls of the room, and the bathroom is a community style one available to the small complex.
While we were visiting, the 4 guys on our team stayed in the boys apartment, using our sleeping pads to section out some sleeping areas on the floor. Which is cool. It's a standard World Race scenario, since we're prepared to sleep in our tents whenever we need to. The hard part came once we actually tried to get to sleep. It was a warm night, and the room, with closed windows (which didn't lead outside, only to the hallway) and 8 guys quickly grew warmer. And oh so stuffy. About an hour in, my best guess was that the room was around 90 degrees. I stripped off my shirt, and rolled off of my pad so I could sprawl out as much as I could on the cold tile floor. As I lay there in the pitch black room, I started to feel my mind slip to that strange delusional place you can get to when you don't have enough sleep. I was miserable, and desperate for sleep.
As I lay there, I couldn't help but think of all the girls in the world who are stuck in human trafficking, and thrown into dark metal warehouses to be held until it's time for their next "client". For those few hours, I felt like I knew what it was like. At least in a small way. And the brutality of it all hit me in a new way. It's easy to understand that people's lives are difficult, but the moment you can empathize with it in any way, being able to feel the reality of how terrible it all is leaves a much larger impact. And that impact is something I'm grateful for.
Bryan K – Is it possible to be a missionary in the US like you've been in Central America, and why?
A – Yes, definitely. I think there is a temptation or pattern of kind of romanticizing the idea of missions in our Church in America as some magical journey. But living a lifestyle of a missionary should be very similar to a lifestyle with any other occupation. I fill my "workday" with what we typically place under the umbrella of “ministry” – spending time with orphans, doing free labor, talking to people about the Lord, leading worship, and living in a community centered on these kinds of works. But at the end of my workday, I still strive to devote my life to Christ. Those are the moments that make me a real missionary. And that is my vocation. My occupation is simply what walking that out looks like day-to-day.
So In my experience, a vocational missionary is simply a Christian that serves the Lord with his or her whole life. You can spend most of your hours in a hospital, in a church, or stocking shelves at a retail store. Our occupation and vocation don't have to be synonymous. Do you devote your life to Christ? Then maybe you already are a missionary.
Thanks for your questions. If you thought of or have any more, ask away, and I'll go again for episode 2 of Ask Me Anything!
