“I have traveled to many places not to be an agent of change but because I need to be changed.” Mark Labberton, The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor
This past August, my team and I got off a boat and quickly realized we weren’t in Europe anymore. We went from church bells to the call of prayer, from a comfortable Latin language to one that is extremely foreign and difficult, from Western ideals to a very gender-divided realm with a dramatic emphasis on community and the difference between public and private worlds. We had no host, only ourselves, our things, and an AirBnb reservation.
During that time in northern Morocco, many adventures were had. We made friends at the mall and drank lots of mint tea. We ate couscous while sharing stories via Google Translate. Some of us got a little too naked with the locals at a hammam, we ate way too many olives and bread, watched one too many movies in French, had dance parties and midnight jam sessions, took some wild taxi rides, waited for lots of buses, and as the team treasurer, I waited for lots of expenses to upload. We stayed the night with strangers and friends, attended an international church, killed a lot of cockroaches and had a few run-ins with feral cats. We learned to see his Kingdom and his Glory in Moroccan spices and colors, in all the tagine we ate, in the beauty of sharing life with one another, and in every good thing.
After about seven weeks in Morocco, we all traveled to Cyprus in mid-October. A few teams stayed in Limassol at a ministry house owned by a man who does Gospel radio broadcasts to Yemen. We did several different things during our time there: aided a wonderful charity in moving their second-hand shop to a new location, helped our host while he filmed some of his broadcasts, hosted a squad women’s retreat, participated in an A-21 walk against slavery, took too many trips to a local 24-hour bakery, skinny-dipped in the Mediterranean, celebrated birthdays and holidays, and through it all forged deeper and fuller community.
In my comings and goings, I’ve seen and grown in many things. The world is a big place with so much diversity and beauty, and I have a whole lot more to learn from it than it has to learn from me. As one of my teammates said, “When you broaden your perspective, you shrink.”
If I’m being honest, a difficult thing I have come to realize is that this perspective about the world doesn’t often exist in the culture of missions. The idea of being on a “mission” to share the Gospel tends to create a bit of a savior mentality. We set out to save the world – a world we often know very little about.
We convince ourselves that sharing the Gospel alone is what loving our neighbor looks like, so we go to great lengths to fulfill that good-ole “Great Commission.” We build homeless shelters where tenants must be present for an evangelical service in order to have a bed and a meal, we travel abroad and make people watch the Jesus movie in their “native” language in order to receive necessary medical care, we give out free candy, toys, and basic amenities to children only to forcibly share Bible stories and convince them to accept Jesus in a language they don’t understand, and in order to receive aid, we require the impoverished to be herded onto church buses like cattle to attend our Gospel services and Bible studies.
While I understand the intentions behind these acts are often good, I am disturbed when I ask myself this question: Would I do these things to my geographical neighbors if a storm came through and suddenly took everything from them? If they were suddenly ravaged by fire, sickness, tragedy and death, leaving them suddenly and helplessly in the hands of poverty and lack? Would I force them in undignifying ways to accept my version of the Gospel in exchange for meeting their needs? I can’t imagine that I would – I hope and pray I would simply help my neighbor, “saved” or not.
So why are we so comfortable with doing this to the week and needy outside of our own communities? To those whose God’s heart cries out for the most? (Deuteronomy 15:11, Psalm 10:17-18, Isaiah 1:17, 58, Ezekiel 16:48, etc.) To those whom, as Christians, we are called to care for, not take advantage of or oppress? (James 1:27)
It is admittedly easy in our possession and wealth to force the poor and vulnerable into positions of “hearing a Gospel message.” But easy evangelism at the cost of another’s humanity and dignity are not from the heart of God. The Lord is sovereign; He does not require manipulation or coercion to make Himself known. I have witnessed and regrettably partaken in many tactics like these used in modern mission and ministry, but I have grown to believe these things don’t save the world: they are often the very things the world needs saving from.
I think we are called to share the Gospel but doing so in and of itself is not loving others. It is an act birthed of love, but it itself is not an act of love. Loving others is never easy; it requires sacrifice and is always costly. Love is the dirty work of washing feet and embracing the leper, of laying down our pride, our privilege, our reputation, our comforts, and even our very lives for others. Yes, we are given the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20), but the grander arch of Scripture is clear that our calling is to love God and love neighbor (John 13:34, Mark 12:29-31, Matthew 22:36-40: “All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”) And loving God must involve loving one another, else we are not truly loving God.
We should freely share with others what we believe about the goodness of God revealed in Jesus, but that should never be the end goal. Loving our neighbor simply because they are our neighbor, because they are a person worth loving, whom God Himself loves, should be the end. Love changes and shapes every heart it touches, which is why it is so costly: when we allow ourselves to truly love and be loved, we will be changed.
That is what the world needs: More people fully known and loved, more people with hearts richly growing larger and fuller with each real relationship, more people that are empowered and dignified as the autonomous and worthy human beings they are, more people with the heavy heart of God. If each individual matters to God, they ought to matter to us. If they are seen in His eyes as treasures, we must learn to truly see them as such. And loving others well won’t just save the world, but it will also save us. For we too must be saved. We are broken and depraved, the seed of every sin residing in our fallen human hearts, and learning to love God and neighbor by the grace of Jesus Christ is our only hope for sanctification in this life.
In summary: I’m not on the Race to save the world. To claim that I am would be elevating my “greatness” over His goodness. The world only has one Savior – and I am not Him. To participate in making all things new, our entire lives must be committed to this thing. There is no quick fix to injustice and poverty that does not require sacrifice or lives committed to loving others well, to really bearing another’s burdens, and to taking difficult step after step, day after day, in the wild hope that Christ is risen and therefore life here and now can look like His kingdom and not our own.
In traveling across the world, I am witnessing her brokenness as well as her beauty. I’ve had the chance to hug and kiss her wealthy as well as her lame. I’ve had the opportunity to walk streets where it could be the first time the Holy Spirit has been embodied. But I’ve also had the joy of fellowship with many other believers. In the face of severe poverty and lack, I’ve been able to do nothing but drink lots of tea and hear lots of stories. And in the process of hearing stories and bearing burdens, I find that my soul is continually being shaped and reshaped by partaking in weaving a common human story that tells the tale of God’s reconciliation and redemption. A tale where, if we will repent of our ways and begin to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly, every person might have the chance to be free, and to live as the flourishing image bearers they are meant to be in Christ.
“The part I have to play in protecting this beloved world is laughably small – it is not mine alone to save. But it matters that we care. Love might only be a broken song, but I can still add my voice to that faltering music.” Apricot Irving, The Gospel of Trees
If you are reading this, considering donating to my trip. Not to help me save the world, but to better tell her story. A story that has nothing to do with my greatness and everything to do with God’s goodness.
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Some good reads on this topic:
Playing God: Redeeming the Gift of Power by Andy Crouch
Overturning Tables: Freeing Missions from the Christian-Industrial Complex by Scott Bessenecker
The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor by Mark Labberton
When Helping Hurts by Steve Corbett & Brian Fikkert
*The Very Worst Missionary by Jamie Wright
*Failed Missionary Podcast with Corey Pigg
*I don’t endorse everything in this book and podcast, but they present really valid points about missions
