A Ministry Manifesto

I've been reading a lot of Paul lately. Have you heard of him? Authored half of the New Testament, missionary to many, and even served time for it. Ah yes, Paul.

Sometimes I forget he was a real person, and sometimes I catch myself adding my own little details to his life story. I picture him thoughtfully staring off into the distance, his head inquisitively turned slightly to the right, as he sails onward towards his next missionary destination. He smiles to himself as he remembers his friends throughout the empire that are thriving in new, flourishing home churches with too many members to count. He envisions the multitudes that have fallen on their faces before the Lord as a result of his ministry and confidently asks God for more, because naturally, he never ceases to pray.

For a few months now, I've been the missionary, and it's caused me to take some second looks at Paul. Who could better supply some helpful hints about this kind of life that I'm desperately trying to figure out?

Helpful Hint #1: Acknowledge the real deal. The valiant, calm pastor image I created in my head is probably not the reality of Paul's persona. Just because today we are privy to knowing the fruit of his ministry doesn't mean he could necessarily see it then, nor was he immune to disappointment along the way. Surely he felt despair when people and communities just didn't get it. With a fiery and fierce demeanor, he likely boiled with anger as he watched sin injure people and dishonor the name of God. For every individual who repented in order to follow The Way, there was likely another who rejected Paul's teaching as foolishness. He suffered disappointments in his ministry. And yet, God produced a growing first century church using Paul's efforts.

The more I experience church and ministry here, the more sentiments I think I share with Paul. I want to give the benefit of the doubt, but I also want to discover the truthful realities in people's lives here. Seeing brokenness is difficult, especially understanding the effects it wreaks on lives and successive generations. However, in order to tend to the brokenness, I've learned that we must first acknowledge the real deal of the situation. Often, the real deal is messy, ugly, and bleak. And we must question. What keeps individuals in the church from seeking growth? How can they complacently accept the emptiness of their current life? What kind of faith are men practicing if their wives can't tell the difference between their husbands as Muslims and now as Christians? How can women think faith is for men alone? Why bother with church and faith if it doesn't change your life? But we can't stop with questions and we can't accept the bleakness as the final word. We seek understanding only in order to herald the healing that comes through prayer, teaching, and the ministry of presence.

Helpful Hint #2: Build bridges. On a trip to Athens recorded in Acts 17, Paul exemplifies a concept Janee taught me my first week here as essential to Muslim ministry, and I think ministry in general. Although he was "greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols," Paul finds common ground with these polytheists in order to then share the love of Christ with them. In fact, he openly spoke the truth in the synagogue and the marketplace, discussing and reasoning with whoever happened to be listening. He spoke the truth boldly enough to cause people to curiously ask for more. "May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? You are bringing some strange new ideas to our ears, and we want to know what they mean." Paul stands up before a meeting of thinkers, and begins hammering nails into a bridge of common understanding between their worldviews. "I see that in every way you are very religious," he says. "For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you." Paul continues to build a case for the one true God, but using their terminology. He emphasizes what they agree on and then moves onto the person of Christ and His resurrection. (Check out the end of the story in Acts 17:24-34).

Likewise, I'm learning and implementing this proclamation model for sharing the Gospel. Whether with my Muslim friend or with a youth at church, painstakingly constructing a bridge of shared belief is powerful. It builds a foundation of trust and respect, and creates a context into which the story of Jesus can most clearly enter.

And even then, Paul likely suffered some disappointment in the midst of what we would deem a ministry success. The result of his brilliant and relevant presentation was that "some of them sneered, but others said, 'We want to hear you again on this subject'... A few men became followers of Paul and believed." That's the real deal.

Helpful Hint #3: Adapt. As the beloved mentor of so many diverse congregations and as a dearly loved discipler and friend of many, it seems like Paul mastered this concept. "Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible... I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do this for the sake of the gospel." Whether it was becoming like Jews, Gentiles, or simply the weak, Paul understood the benefit of adapting the adaptable parts of his identity. Certainly there are fundamental features of our faith and uniqueness as our Father's children that we will refuse to touch, and rightly so, but for the rest, we must grip loosely.

I have and will continue to try adapt to the people and the world around me, if it means that somehow Christ looks better. I'm not a fan of organized group games. But, if it could lead to a richer community in our youth group that fosters honest discussion, I can enjoy a thumb war tournament or some fishbowl charades. Shopping wears me out and usually bores me to tears, but if that's my Muslim friend's suggestion for hanging out, shopping on Friday it is. I find dates and figs revolting, but if passing the bowl could impair a friendship or incur judgment that blocks one's sensitivity to God, then one or two never hurt anybody. In the end, becoming all things to all people becomes a lesson in freedom. Freedom can be found in such a self-emptying ideology. Jesus said so.

Weeks in Review

Now that I've experienced some "normal" weeks here in Brussels, I thought I'd fill you in on what I've been up to here instead of just my musings for the day. In an ironic twist from my last blog post about learning to be rather than filling my schedule with things to do, here are some brief snippets of what I've done over the last few weeks:

-embarked on a dumpster diving adventure to IKEA for giant boxes to be used to create scenery for the youth's Christmas play (that were then transported across the city via metro)
-visited an Italian widow from our church in her home, studied the Bible with her, and prayed with her
-helped a mother in the church host the youth for a weekend at her house to celebrate her son's 15th birthday
-studied English Church History with Janee in preparation for our trip to LONDON on Tuesday!!
-fed multitudes of homeless men, women, and children under a bridge in the center of the city
-spent the day with an Arab family, visited a farm, and learned how to make cheese from freshly pumped cow's milk
-learned how to correctly use the words "some" and "any" thanks to teaching Level 2 English
-concluded a study on a book called Honor And Shame by Roland Muller
-visited my Moroccan friend from my conversation "class," for her lunch break from work at the European Union
-traveled to Iran for the day by dressing as an Iranian woman, listening to Iranian radio, making Iranian food with Janee and Hary, and then praying together for the people of Iran
-prepped my English classes for their midterm exams last week
-hosted the youth for a "lock-in" type weekend at our apartment, which involved games, fall-inspired fun, teaching and singing French worship songs, and kicking off our semester purity study
-prayed with a Syrian woman from church and let her teach me how to spell my name in Arabic
-learned to make tortillas, Navajo flatbread, and a delicious feast all from scratch for a dinner party with 4 Arab couples
-continued the second installment of our purity study with the youth group at our usual every-other Friday night gathering

Below are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

To Be

On one of the first days of English class, I taught my Level 1 students how to conjugate the verb "to be." I emphatically stressed that this was the most important word in the English language. You really can't say much without understanding this word. Imagine any conversation in English. Simple or complicated, this verb is essential. Hi, my name is Claire. I am from America. How are you?

Four weeks after the start of English classes, I'm starting to understand the importance of this "being" idea. I'm learning what it means to exist and the value in simply bearing God's likeness as I do so. The verb "do" has never given me any trouble. I get that. I've always been an exceptional "do-er." I happily worked all day most Saturdays during high school, and scheduled my days at college from morning until long past the sun had set. I can write Bible studies, lead meetings, and plan programs, no problem. I like doing. Being busy with a long to-do list in hand gives me an adrenaline rush. But when it comes time to stop doing and start being, I feel lost. I feel aimless. It makes me uncomfortable.

Not so for many other cultures on this earth. Europeans sit for hours at cafes. Perhaps they are involved in a fascinating conversation with a friend, or maybe they are watching people pass on the street. The content of this time usually isn't the point. Arab culture certainly understands the idea of being as well. It seems difficult to meet someone for coffee or tea for less than a couple hours. Church members arrive starting an hour before the service on Sunday, and stay at least an hour after. When things need to get done, they are accomplished, but only the essentials: cooking, eating, cleaning, constructing. The American mentality of back-to-back scheduled events doesn't apply here.

This week God let me have a small revelation into what He wants from me here. I think He wants to break me, and eight weeks in, I'm finally yielding to that breaking process.

God is breaking me of my preference for doing, and teaching me the more foundational idea of being. I'm learning to be with Him, really be with Him, as I sit and talk to Him in the mornings, imagining Him sitting beside me. I'm learning to be with Him as I seek His strength instead of finding satisfaction in the tangible results of my labor. I'm learning to be with the youth rather than merely accomplishing tasks and objective goals with them. Instead of just scheduling visits with women from the church into my daily calendar, I'm learning to be present with them as we drink coffee and pray together.

I have this mental image of God as a lumberjack, chopping away at my workaholic mindset. I'm not sure what the ideal balance is between doing and being as we walk through life, but God has set me down on a painstaking path of discovery to find out.

A New Normal

Seven weeks. I'm almost seven weeks into this little adventure called Brussels. How much has changed in those seven weeks! No longer am I quite so wide eyed as I walk down the street and see women dressed like this:

or cars like this: (or the former driving the latter for that matter).

I don't think twice now about the cars loudly honking outside my room or the thumping and scraping of chairs and tables moving in the neighbor's apartment. The sounds of Arabic don't strike me as strange as they did at first. I've even started to forget that I am the white American in the Arab Church.

The smell of the popular Lebanese 7 spices wafting from a dish are still tantalizing, but no longer alert my appetite as they did at first.



The tastes of certain Middle Eastern dishes and delicacies have become easily recognizable now as I walk into more and more homes.





















And so goes life, doesn't it? New becomes old.

New tastes become commonplace. New sights stop turning your head. New sounds become unnoticeable. New smells become unrecognizable. New relationships become comfortable and familiar. New ideas become givens. New ways of doing things become habits.

As much as they may try to resist, things new will become things old.

What do we do when the new becomes normal?

Some people actively search for more new, while others quietly wait for the small buds of change. Some grow complacent with life as they know it, while others manage to simultaneously remember and move forward.

My answer to this question is not a deep or inspiring one. With losing the newness of living here, I've also lost the desperate dependency on God I wrote about before. Multitudes of things still bombard me that I don't completely understand, but even that occurrence, in itself, seems normal. My little bit of knowledge of the neighborhood's layout, Arab culture, English classes, and the dynamics of the church have given me a false sense of control, as if a little more understanding could somehow replace God's sovereignty.

It's been a while since I've gone to sleep in awe of His power. And I can't seem to reconjure that notion of Him being the one familiar thing. I want those things back. Certainly these understandings endure beyond the times we find ourselves like a fish out of water, frantically flopping around in our foreign environment.

--

It was a beautiful, crisp fall day here, which begged for a run in a nearby park. In the middle of my run, the old hymn, God Our Help in Ages Past, began playing on my ipod. With the help of this song, my brain stopped it's scattered thinking and reframed this transition I'm experiencing away from newness.

God is not new. Yes, He does new things, He leads us into new life, His compassions are new every morning, but He is not new. And whether I feel it or not, I am still a child in need of my Father.

I began this blog in August thrilled about the new thing that God was doing by sending me to Brussels. Seven weeks in, I'm reminded of more than the new place I was sent, but of the God I came seeking, the God who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

--

O God, our help in ages past, 
our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast,
and our eternal home.

Under the shadow of thy throne,
thy saints have dwelt secure;
sufficient is thine arm alone,
and our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
or earth received her frame,
from everlasting, thou art God,
to endless years the same.

A thousand ages, in thy sight,
are like an evening gone;
short as the watch that ends the night,
before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever rolling stream,
bears all who breathe away;
they fly forgotten, as a dream
dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come;
be thou our guide while life shall last,
and our eternal home.

Arab Church Camp

Church Camp proved to be an enlightening and fun experience last weekend. I discovered that it was officially named Church Camp rather than Church Retreat for a reason. While I laughed a lot and delighted in feeling used by the Lord, little actual rest was involved in the weekend.

I did come home encouraged by the ways God has used this church to bring people to Himself, especially after hearing testimonies from a few Muslim background believers. I also returned on Sunday with more appreciation for Arab culture, especially the relational and communal nature of it, after being immersed in it for 48 hours with no escape. It was nothing for six guys ranging from six- to 18-years-old to wrestle and play for hours Saturday night. No one was really in a rush to leave Sunday afternoon, so some of the women sat and drank tea and talked together for a while after lunch. For Arabs, life is shared with those around you, and nothing seems more important.

Leading the youth was challenging, but fun. My patience, creativity, and ability to teach were all tried and developed as a result. The youth had many questions for us in response to our times of study and discussion together regarding what a relationship with God looks like, in what ways life is better when you are a Christian, how to share their faith with their family, and how to discern between right and wrong in regards to media exposure, substance use, and relationships.

The highlight of the weekend for me was equipping the youth to perform a drama for the church's variety show. We hurriedly practiced on Saturday, and when they performed on Saturday night, they moved the church to cheers and tears. I was so proud of them. The church has never expected them to contribute, nor really pays them much notice. In turn, the youth don't recognize their responsibility to the body of Christ and don't understand the ways in which they are gifted. However, this weekend offered a different story. You can watch the drama here.

I'll tell you the rest in pictures:

Please pray for these youth to question, wrestle, and seek God individually, and with their family and this youth group. Pray that God would reveal Himself to each of these youth in an undeniable way. Also, please pray for discipleship to take place in the lives of church members.

You can call me Miss Claire

Hi friends! I just finished my first week teaching English classes and thought I'd give you a short synopsis.
I love our students already. We have students from the Syria, Congo, Poland, Portugal, Belgium, Morocco, Albania, Senegal, and Iran, ranging from age 13 to 60-something. They are (for the most part) very eager to learn and fun to get to know. As you can imagine, you learn to laugh at yourself a good bit when you're learning a foreign language, so we've been able to laugh together a good bit already. We have 4 levels of classes, with the highest being a conversation class. This year, only one student enrolled in conversation class, a 27 year-old woman who works for the European Union and also happens to be very friendly and easy to talk to. Essentially, we have a coffee date twice a week for the next 10 weeks to talk about whatever she wants. Finally, I enjoy teaching much more than I expected to, which makes class fun. I originally thought of English class only as a means to build deeper relationships with these individuals, but the process of helping someone grasp a word or concept has been satisfying as well.
Please pray for all these relationships being formed with our students: I want each individual we're teaching to think favorably of Christ by the end of the semester because of knowing Janee, Hary and I, and I want each student to see and hear the Gospel as clearly as possible by the end of the semester.
I leave tomorrow for a church-wide weekend retreat in Waterloo. The adults of the church will be led by a guest pastor from Germany and worship leader from Syria, while Janee and I will lead separate sessions for the youth during the same time. We've planned about 9 hours worth of Bible study and discussion focused on our identity in Christ: who we are as Christ-followers, what our message is as such, and the practical daily application of that in our lives. This is the first time for most of the youth to participate in something like this, and likely the first time they have personally engaged these ideas. Please pray for them to wrestle with God this weekend and respond to the Gospel with sincere understanding and joy!

What is Better

Another week has passed here in Brussels, and with it, winter has arrived! I begrudgingly donned my winter coat for the first time tonight, but am thankful that the cold rain that characterizes Brussels has kept its distance so far. The beginning of this week has been more of a struggle for me than others. With neither a good grasp of French nor a strong competency in Arab culture, I've wrestled a lot with a strong feeling of uselessness. Have you ever felt this way?

If you have, you know it is an effort to convince yourself that you are NOT purposeless, NOT aimless, NOT disposable, and NOT just a "bump on a log," as my mom would say. You know Jesus' hint that those who are trusted with very little can be trusted with much seems easier said than done (Lk 16:10). This feeling isn't completely unfamiliar to me, but being in a place far from friends and family and living here solely by the gifts of others seems to magnify it. I was not commissioned to be useless. God knew what I needed, and gave me a reprieve from the drag of this feeling on Saturday in the form of slapping together hundreds of cheese sandwiches and ladling bowls of hot soup. The Arab church serves with a local organization called Tabitha Ministries once every five weeks to make and serve dinner to hundreds of homeless women, men, and children in Brussels. Nothing will make you feel useful like being part of a concerted effort to feed over 200 people on a cold night. I watched the piles of sandwiches grow as we worked in the kitchen, and later that night I watched them enter the mouths of the city's hungry and poor. It was the definition of seeing a tangible result of your work, and selfishly, it felt great.

There are many moments from Saturday night that I wish I could elaborate on: seeing the hoards of people already waiting for food when we arrived downtown, numerous Muslims debating about whether the food we gave was halal (acceptable by God to be consumed), and silently snacking on spicy Cheetos with a homeless man and woman who couldn't understand my French. But there was one moment that was seared into my mind. While serving soup at the end of the line, I witnessed an uncomfortable encounter between a ministry volunteer and a homeless man. The man's hands were dripping with hot coffee as he attempted to also balance a bag of non-perishables, three sandwiches wrapped in a paper towel, and a cup of soup. The volunteer noticed his struggle and reached for his sandwiches to try to help him adjust his handful. The man angrily jerked away, spilling more of his coffee and now his soup on his arm. Persistently, the volunteer tried again, only to be met with an audible, angry snarl. At this point, the cup of coffee was mostly empty and the soup cup was close to the same. Patiently, the volunteer moved again to help the man, and this time he relented. Quickly, the sandwiches were tucked into the bag and placed on his shoulder, leaving a free hand for his coffee and a free hand for his cup of soup. The volunteer led the man back to the table to replenish both, and after the man hurriedly scuffled away.

I couldn't stop thinking, "That's me." Like the man, I rigidly cling to what I have and what I know, and become frenzied and annoyed when the familiar is disrupted; when the tangible is threatened. Is that you? This man didn't understand that there was a better way to get his food home, and likewise, I too have refused to consider any better ways to be useful here than the ways I know and prefer. As the volunteer gently tried to help the man fit more, take more, eat more, the man refused the outstretched hand. Why? Was it fear, pride, or impatience? Whatever the reason, he refused to let go and receive what was better. When God tries to rearrange things; when he asks us to let go, He is usually offering us something more and better. What are you clinging to?

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. Mark 8:35.

Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! Matthew 7:9-11.