I know you've heard this a thousand times, or variations of it:
"God has called me to be a missionary right here at home." Or, "All Christians are missionaries."
There is something about this statement that I totally agree with and something about it that bothers me, too.
TOTALLY AGREE
I agree that all Christians are priests of God and are called to ministry--service to Jesus--wherever they are in this unreached world of ours. The Bible is very clear about that. Christians are called to ministry, and ministry is not just for those we "ordain." In fact, all of us have been ordained to ministry when we put our faith in Christ and committed our lives to him. So, wherever we are, we should be serving Christ, shining his light and extending his grace to those around us who do not yet know him. Amen.
I also agree that not everyone should leave their homes and go to a different country or culture to be a missionary. I used to think that most people should, but many refuse. But after serving in a cross-cultural context, I have seen the example of many people who have traveled over land and sea to serve cross-culturally, but they've done all they can to live the same kind of lifestyle in that place. This usually makes them pretty ineffective. Sometimes it gets ugly and it would be better if these people went back home and served Christ there.
BOTHERS ME
Just yesterday I made a post about the politics of missions. One thing politicians do is to reaffirm the majority of people (potential voters) that they are exactly what they should be. They're doing exactly what they should be doing. Translation: No change is necessary. (That is, no change on the part of the masses of people. Politicians love to say they will change things for the people if they are elected.) And the line of "we're all missionaries" smacks of this same justification of the status quo.
I used to argue that the word "missionary" implied cross-cultural service. Most missiologists will make this distinction between a cross-cultural Christian worker and a Christian worker (evangelist/pastor) who serves in his own culture. The former is a missionary and the latter is not. The word "missionary" is basically the same word as "apostle." The former word comes from Latin and the latter from Greek. And in Ephesians it says that he gave some to be apostles....
But I'm done arguing about words. If you want to define one word one way, that is fine with me as long as you clarify your meaning.
What really bothers me is that we use our fancy and cute explanations to get around one thing that we just cannot imagine giving up: Our lifestyles.
Now, that is fine--you don't have to give up your lifestyle. Unless it is a sinful one or doesn't glorify Christ. But I'm not talking about lifestyle in the sense committing sins, not tithing your money, being involved in gambling, moonshining or drug-running. I'm talking about lifestyle in the sense of how your life is ordered according to your own culture. I'm talking about the kind of people you hang out with (not the kind of people you minister to). I'm talking about the kinds of places you go for fun. I'm talking about the kind of food you eat; the entertainment you watch; the clothes you wear; the language you operate in; the music you listen to; the places you shop; the kind of house you live in. This is the lifestyle I'm talking about.
Most people would rather give up their lives than give up their lifestyles.
And you know what... that's perfectly fine with me. I know how hard it is for people to really give up those things.
But some people do give them up. Some people go to another country, another culture. Some people do this for the very purpose of reaching people who have so very, very, very little opportunity to even hear the gospel compared to those in our homes who have an abundance of opportunity.
Is it wrong to share Christ with someone at home, then, who does not follow Christ? Absolutely not! Please do it. Do it right now!
But after you have done it, please think about a man named Khamman who lives on the other side of the world. Khamman has heard there is a religion out there called "Christianity" but he doesn't know anyone who is a Christian. He also doesn't know where there are any churches, because there are no churches in his village, district or province. He doesn't know there is a Bible, and even if he did, he couldn't read it because it hasn't been translated into his language. And even if it had been translated into his language, he still couldn't read it because he doesn't know how to read.
And he will die without Christ because so many people were content to be "missionaries wherever they are."
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Selling an Experience
What is the purpose of short-term mission trips? I’m talking about those 10-20 days trips we take during our vacations or spring breaks.
To the short-termer who goes: The purpose is to be a witness of Christ; love those who are different from us; encourage cross-cultural believers; build a church building or other needed asset in the work of the kingdom there; make a difference!
To the long-termer who hosts the short-termers: Make them feel like they’ve made an incredible difference.
Yes, it’s all politics.
Have you ever noticed that a politician never criticizes the culture or the people at large? Never will you hear an American presidential candidate say, “Well, you know Larry, this is where a vast majority of the American people are dead wrong. They need to change their thinking. They need to change their behavior.” No, they don’t go there even if they think this way. Instead, they compliment Americans. They talk about the greatness of the American Spirit and how they identify with the masses of people who live on “Main Street.” If anyone needs to change, it is those few but loud “radicals” that belong to the other political party.
Politicians have everything to gain from telling people they are good just the way they are. If a candidate says everyday people need to change, it is political suicide. Instead, they need to make people feel as if everything about them is all right.
So it is with short-term missions. Few people are brave enough to criticize these trips. Why? Because so many people go on them and have loved them. Because so many supporting churches send groups to visit their missionaries. A long-term missionary would be in trouble of losing support if he criticized his supporting church’s short-term approach.
I, for one, am not against short-term trips. Not in the least. If done right, I think they are great. In fact, I went on exactly ten short-term trips before I became a long-term missionary. (Well, six were in the 10-20 day range; four were in the 2-3 month range.) I would not have become a long-term missionary if it weren’t for those trips. So, I am not against such trips. Neither am I against people from my supporting churches coming to visit or do a small project. I love it! I love getting to share with them the country and the people I have grown to love. I feel like I have learned an entire world of new information from living in The Location and am delighted to share these things with people who come.
But there is one aspect of these short-term trips I have come to realize. Most people come to achieve one thing: An experience or sense that they’ve done something incredibly good.
People want to go home with the feeling, “That was awesome!” And there is only one thing, for Christians, that makes them feel that way—that they made an eternal difference.
It is not impossible, but it is very difficult to make a long-term impact in the space of 10-20 days. Even in the life of one person. Chances are the people coming for a week will be much more affected by the trip than The Location is affected by the people coming. But this doesn’t help recruiting:
“Come to the Far East and learn that you have anger issues you need to resolve when you return home!”
“Go on an exotic trip to Africa and learn that there is another way to live besides your narcissistic, consumeristic, individualistic existence!”
“Visit the other side of the world and discover that God is not only interested in, or dependent upon, the American church!”
These lines do not get people signing up in droves to spend $3,000 and precious vacation time.
Instead, we like to advertise like this:
“Spend a week of your time and make an eternal impact.”
“Experience what God is doing on the front lines of the gospel.”
“Be like Jesus and make a difference among the most unreached and the poorest of the poor.”
And we tell stories of how somebody went somewhere, met a local, shared the gospel and how he became a believer. We show pictures of white people hugging dark-skinned natives with bright white smiles. And we know that going on a trip is the best thing a spiritual person could do. While people at home don’t even want to hear the gospel, it is so easy to make a difference overseas where people are begging to hear the gospel but no one will even tell it to them!
If there ever was a missions “urban legend” that last statement is one! While there have been some instances of this dynamic in the history of Christian missions, it certainly does not characterize the “mission field” in general.
So, as a long-term missionary who often hosts short-term groups, I often feel like I have to sell an experience. I have to make people feel that what they’re doing is incredibly critical to the advance of God’s kingdom around the world. I have even had churches tell me that they want their people to have that feeling when they return.
I have to laugh. It is clear such churches aren’t really interested in making a difference overseas. Instead, they want to make a difference in their own people—in their church dynamic and church “life” back home. They want to feel like they’ve made a difference. And I’m stuck with the role of politician trying to make sure they feel that way.
If churches were really interested in making a difference on “the mission field” they would learn to accept that differences aren’t made that easily. They wouldn’t be so concerned about their “feelings” upon return home as they would be about gaining a greater understanding of the task ahead of them. They wouldn’t be so concerned about what they “do” but about what they “learn.” And they would spend more collective resources on long-term efforts than they spend on short-term trips.
But that just isn’t as sexy as being able to boast about one’s short-term trips and the incredible difference these trips are making to listeners at home who have no way to evaluate the real impact.
To the short-termer who goes: The purpose is to be a witness of Christ; love those who are different from us; encourage cross-cultural believers; build a church building or other needed asset in the work of the kingdom there; make a difference!
To the long-termer who hosts the short-termers: Make them feel like they’ve made an incredible difference.
Yes, it’s all politics.
Have you ever noticed that a politician never criticizes the culture or the people at large? Never will you hear an American presidential candidate say, “Well, you know Larry, this is where a vast majority of the American people are dead wrong. They need to change their thinking. They need to change their behavior.” No, they don’t go there even if they think this way. Instead, they compliment Americans. They talk about the greatness of the American Spirit and how they identify with the masses of people who live on “Main Street.” If anyone needs to change, it is those few but loud “radicals” that belong to the other political party.
Politicians have everything to gain from telling people they are good just the way they are. If a candidate says everyday people need to change, it is political suicide. Instead, they need to make people feel as if everything about them is all right.
So it is with short-term missions. Few people are brave enough to criticize these trips. Why? Because so many people go on them and have loved them. Because so many supporting churches send groups to visit their missionaries. A long-term missionary would be in trouble of losing support if he criticized his supporting church’s short-term approach.
I, for one, am not against short-term trips. Not in the least. If done right, I think they are great. In fact, I went on exactly ten short-term trips before I became a long-term missionary. (Well, six were in the 10-20 day range; four were in the 2-3 month range.) I would not have become a long-term missionary if it weren’t for those trips. So, I am not against such trips. Neither am I against people from my supporting churches coming to visit or do a small project. I love it! I love getting to share with them the country and the people I have grown to love. I feel like I have learned an entire world of new information from living in The Location and am delighted to share these things with people who come.
But there is one aspect of these short-term trips I have come to realize. Most people come to achieve one thing: An experience or sense that they’ve done something incredibly good.
People want to go home with the feeling, “That was awesome!” And there is only one thing, for Christians, that makes them feel that way—that they made an eternal difference.
It is not impossible, but it is very difficult to make a long-term impact in the space of 10-20 days. Even in the life of one person. Chances are the people coming for a week will be much more affected by the trip than The Location is affected by the people coming. But this doesn’t help recruiting:
“Come to the Far East and learn that you have anger issues you need to resolve when you return home!”
“Go on an exotic trip to Africa and learn that there is another way to live besides your narcissistic, consumeristic, individualistic existence!”
“Visit the other side of the world and discover that God is not only interested in, or dependent upon, the American church!”
These lines do not get people signing up in droves to spend $3,000 and precious vacation time.
Instead, we like to advertise like this:
“Spend a week of your time and make an eternal impact.”
“Experience what God is doing on the front lines of the gospel.”
“Be like Jesus and make a difference among the most unreached and the poorest of the poor.”
And we tell stories of how somebody went somewhere, met a local, shared the gospel and how he became a believer. We show pictures of white people hugging dark-skinned natives with bright white smiles. And we know that going on a trip is the best thing a spiritual person could do. While people at home don’t even want to hear the gospel, it is so easy to make a difference overseas where people are begging to hear the gospel but no one will even tell it to them!
If there ever was a missions “urban legend” that last statement is one! While there have been some instances of this dynamic in the history of Christian missions, it certainly does not characterize the “mission field” in general.
So, as a long-term missionary who often hosts short-term groups, I often feel like I have to sell an experience. I have to make people feel that what they’re doing is incredibly critical to the advance of God’s kingdom around the world. I have even had churches tell me that they want their people to have that feeling when they return.
I have to laugh. It is clear such churches aren’t really interested in making a difference overseas. Instead, they want to make a difference in their own people—in their church dynamic and church “life” back home. They want to feel like they’ve made a difference. And I’m stuck with the role of politician trying to make sure they feel that way.
If churches were really interested in making a difference on “the mission field” they would learn to accept that differences aren’t made that easily. They wouldn’t be so concerned about their “feelings” upon return home as they would be about gaining a greater understanding of the task ahead of them. They wouldn’t be so concerned about what they “do” but about what they “learn.” And they would spend more collective resources on long-term efforts than they spend on short-term trips.
But that just isn’t as sexy as being able to boast about one’s short-term trips and the incredible difference these trips are making to listeners at home who have no way to evaluate the real impact.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Dad's Day
Do you know how many dads there are in the world? I don’t.
Let’s see… Suppose the “average family” in the world consists of a mom, a dad and… say… five children. (Is this the world’s average? I have no idea.) If so, then dad’s make up one-seventh of the population. However, some dads have children that are dads, too. So, I’ll venture to make a scientific guess that dads make up as high as 15% of the world’s population. If so, then there are roughly, approximately, about 700 million dads in the world.
I don’t know most of them.
I know one of them really well… that’s my dad. The other dad I’m getting to know is myself. And sprinkled about my acquaintances are a number of dads I’ve gotten to know over the years. Still nowhere close to 700 million, though.
So, what do I really know about dads? What could I possibly say that would generalize “what dads are like”? I’ll give it another scientific try:
Dads think they’re not good. Or, not good enough.
Why would dads think like that? Two reasons, really.
One is that dads are always trying to be better dads. They never settle. They work very hard. They want to achieve for their family. They want to provide for their children. They don’t want to see their children suffer, go without or be hindered in any way because their dads were too lazy or incapable of providing what a child needs.
And how much is enough? How good is good enough? Well, do you mean, for my kid? My kid is much better than me. That means all I could provide is never good enough for my wonderful kid.
The other reason that dads think they’re not good is because that is what we tell our dads. Our dads are “Superman!” when we’re young. Then we grow up and learn they are not really Superman. They’re just dad. And if they do one thing to hurt us (which every dad does because no dad is Superman), boy does it hurt! It hurts so bad that we blame them. We tell them what a bad dad they are. We don’t care what they’ve done or sacrificed for us…. Why didn’t they do ______ instead?
And there is probably nothing that hurts a dad more than to hear their child tell them how bad they are. After they’ve worked so much… After they’ve tried so hard…
Our society also gangs up on dads. While moms are the gentle, pie-baking, tear-wiping, encouraging-words-speaking, servant-hearted kissers of all boo-boos; dads are absent, workaholic, angry, over-protective jerks. How many Mother’s Day sermons have you heard extolling the qualities of our wonderful mothers, and how many Father’s Day sermons have you heard telling dads that they better shape up and do better?
I remember my dad going to church with me for a Christmas Eve service. He hadn’t been in a long, long time. And he felt uncomfortable there. So do many people. As we mingled with some of the church’s greeters at the door and chit-chatted, one of the men said to my dad, “Good to see you here.” My dad replied, “Well, the walls just might crumble in.” Surely a holy place like a church would crumble upon the presence of such a bad man!
My dad has gotten the message: He’s bad. Perhaps it was me or my siblings telling him that somehow. Perhaps it was society that got the message through to him. Perhaps it was just him thinking so lowly of himself that he expected others to do so, too. Maybe a combination of all of the above. Dad even rhymes with bad. Bad dad.
Perhaps, instead of “Father’s Day” they should change the name to “Give Dad A Break For Once, Day.” Give him a break from all the negativity. Give him a break from all the high expectations. Give him a break from the bitterness borne from unhealed dad-pain. Give him a break from never getting a break. Forgive him for not being Superman. See in him the goodness there is. See his heart. See that, even though he never knew how to express it very well—he loved you.
Thank you for being my dad, Dad. I’m proud to be your son. I just have one thing to say to you:
You’re good.
Let’s see… Suppose the “average family” in the world consists of a mom, a dad and… say… five children. (Is this the world’s average? I have no idea.) If so, then dad’s make up one-seventh of the population. However, some dads have children that are dads, too. So, I’ll venture to make a scientific guess that dads make up as high as 15% of the world’s population. If so, then there are roughly, approximately, about 700 million dads in the world.
I don’t know most of them.
I know one of them really well… that’s my dad. The other dad I’m getting to know is myself. And sprinkled about my acquaintances are a number of dads I’ve gotten to know over the years. Still nowhere close to 700 million, though.
So, what do I really know about dads? What could I possibly say that would generalize “what dads are like”? I’ll give it another scientific try:
Dads think they’re not good. Or, not good enough.
Why would dads think like that? Two reasons, really.
One is that dads are always trying to be better dads. They never settle. They work very hard. They want to achieve for their family. They want to provide for their children. They don’t want to see their children suffer, go without or be hindered in any way because their dads were too lazy or incapable of providing what a child needs.
And how much is enough? How good is good enough? Well, do you mean, for my kid? My kid is much better than me. That means all I could provide is never good enough for my wonderful kid.
The other reason that dads think they’re not good is because that is what we tell our dads. Our dads are “Superman!” when we’re young. Then we grow up and learn they are not really Superman. They’re just dad. And if they do one thing to hurt us (which every dad does because no dad is Superman), boy does it hurt! It hurts so bad that we blame them. We tell them what a bad dad they are. We don’t care what they’ve done or sacrificed for us…. Why didn’t they do ______ instead?
And there is probably nothing that hurts a dad more than to hear their child tell them how bad they are. After they’ve worked so much… After they’ve tried so hard…
Our society also gangs up on dads. While moms are the gentle, pie-baking, tear-wiping, encouraging-words-speaking, servant-hearted kissers of all boo-boos; dads are absent, workaholic, angry, over-protective jerks. How many Mother’s Day sermons have you heard extolling the qualities of our wonderful mothers, and how many Father’s Day sermons have you heard telling dads that they better shape up and do better?
I remember my dad going to church with me for a Christmas Eve service. He hadn’t been in a long, long time. And he felt uncomfortable there. So do many people. As we mingled with some of the church’s greeters at the door and chit-chatted, one of the men said to my dad, “Good to see you here.” My dad replied, “Well, the walls just might crumble in.” Surely a holy place like a church would crumble upon the presence of such a bad man!
My dad has gotten the message: He’s bad. Perhaps it was me or my siblings telling him that somehow. Perhaps it was society that got the message through to him. Perhaps it was just him thinking so lowly of himself that he expected others to do so, too. Maybe a combination of all of the above. Dad even rhymes with bad. Bad dad.
Perhaps, instead of “Father’s Day” they should change the name to “Give Dad A Break For Once, Day.” Give him a break from all the negativity. Give him a break from all the high expectations. Give him a break from the bitterness borne from unhealed dad-pain. Give him a break from never getting a break. Forgive him for not being Superman. See in him the goodness there is. See his heart. See that, even though he never knew how to express it very well—he loved you.
Thank you for being my dad, Dad. I’m proud to be your son. I just have one thing to say to you:
You’re good.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Managing People
If management is defined as the art of getting things done through other people, then I have one thing to say about it:
I suck at it.
Sorry for the language—I rarely speak like this, but there is no better word that can describe my abilities more precisely.
Whether trying to get things done through other people in business, or by directing them in ministry, I usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. The people who were under my management usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. In other words—my management style is hell on relationships.
Now, perhaps I’ve being a little hard on myself. I do have a few success stories over the years. But I think I have more disappointments. And one of my consistent feelings is, “Why don’t people do things better than they do? Why don’t they take more responsibility? Why don’t they see that this level of quality is still not enough?” I often am amazed that even though they agree to accomplish a certain goal, they don’t do what it takes to figure out how to accomplish that goal well. I become personally offended when they don’t do their job to the highest standard of excellence.
What do I do? Usually deride them. Yell at them a little. Question their character. Question their integrity and loyalty. Let them know that they’ve personally hurt me by doing a bad job.
I’m a jerk that way.
Well, I’m learning. I have been humbled. I have been completely broken by my own mistakes and my own treatment of other people. I have been personally grieved by the broken relationships I have caused. I know I expect way too much of people and have struggled to find out how to have the highest of standards in work/ministry and yet not expect too much from people. It almost seems contradictory.
I grew up in a family situation that discipled me to motivate others by making them feel bad. Seriously. That’s how my parents and older siblings motivated me. They would insult me for whatever I did that displeased them. I was hurt and was thus motivated to improve in order to protect myself from being hurt by them and to make them happy.
So when I became an adult this is how I attempted to motivate people, too. I would tell people to accomplish a particular goal and when they would go about it in ineffective ways I would question their judgment and intelligence. If they did it again, I would question their integrity. Great management skills, huh? Would love to work for a boss like me, right? Yeah, right.
I have completely started over now. I have read some books. I have listened to other people. I have tried to deal with my own issues and the relational “rut” I easily fall into by deriding those under me who displease me. I’m not perfect and not yet where I want to be. But I am learning. The transformation is underway; but it will take a while to complete.
One thing I’ve learned: Success is obtained not just by looking at the problems and obstacles and solving them. Success is obtained by looking at the goal, and continuing to look at it. The former is a focus on the negative. The latter is a focus on the positive. The former is a focus on a part of the present reality. The latter is a focus on a future reality.
I can do this. I know I can. I can do it right, too. I am filled with hope.
I suck at it.
Sorry for the language—I rarely speak like this, but there is no better word that can describe my abilities more precisely.
Whether trying to get things done through other people in business, or by directing them in ministry, I usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. The people who were under my management usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. In other words—my management style is hell on relationships.
Now, perhaps I’ve being a little hard on myself. I do have a few success stories over the years. But I think I have more disappointments. And one of my consistent feelings is, “Why don’t people do things better than they do? Why don’t they take more responsibility? Why don’t they see that this level of quality is still not enough?” I often am amazed that even though they agree to accomplish a certain goal, they don’t do what it takes to figure out how to accomplish that goal well. I become personally offended when they don’t do their job to the highest standard of excellence.
What do I do? Usually deride them. Yell at them a little. Question their character. Question their integrity and loyalty. Let them know that they’ve personally hurt me by doing a bad job.
I’m a jerk that way.
Well, I’m learning. I have been humbled. I have been completely broken by my own mistakes and my own treatment of other people. I have been personally grieved by the broken relationships I have caused. I know I expect way too much of people and have struggled to find out how to have the highest of standards in work/ministry and yet not expect too much from people. It almost seems contradictory.
I grew up in a family situation that discipled me to motivate others by making them feel bad. Seriously. That’s how my parents and older siblings motivated me. They would insult me for whatever I did that displeased them. I was hurt and was thus motivated to improve in order to protect myself from being hurt by them and to make them happy.
So when I became an adult this is how I attempted to motivate people, too. I would tell people to accomplish a particular goal and when they would go about it in ineffective ways I would question their judgment and intelligence. If they did it again, I would question their integrity. Great management skills, huh? Would love to work for a boss like me, right? Yeah, right.
I have completely started over now. I have read some books. I have listened to other people. I have tried to deal with my own issues and the relational “rut” I easily fall into by deriding those under me who displease me. I’m not perfect and not yet where I want to be. But I am learning. The transformation is underway; but it will take a while to complete.
One thing I’ve learned: Success is obtained not just by looking at the problems and obstacles and solving them. Success is obtained by looking at the goal, and continuing to look at it. The former is a focus on the negative. The latter is a focus on the positive. The former is a focus on a part of the present reality. The latter is a focus on a future reality.
I can do this. I know I can. I can do it right, too. I am filled with hope.
Village Health Care
In many so-called “third world” countries missionaries often get involved in providing health care. And it doesn’t take long after treating so many of the same diseases in many people that they realize “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” Thousands of people die on a daily basis from diseases or conditions that are easily preventable. Bandaging the ailment doesn’t really solve the problem. People need education on how to keep themselves from falling into the problem.
These could be very simple things like: Wash your hands before eating. Boil water before drinking it. Wear shoes if you’re walking where animals defecate. Drink plenty of water. Sleep under a mosquito net. And so many more instructions that will improve the health of a village by the prevention of common problems that everyone face.
And so health workers schedule village-wide meetings to instruct everyone on these issues at one time. This saves the health workers from having to go around door to door and repeating the same things at each place. It prevents people from misunderstanding and claiming they were told differently than others. It also allows everyone to hear answers to questions that concern the people that perhaps the health worker wouldn’t have thought to tell everyone.
But the work of the doctor or health worker is still far from over after these mass health education seminars. Just because everyone faces certain common health threats, each person may still have their own health issues that are different from others. This means the health worker must still go around and give everyone a personal check-up.
I really think that the role of a “pastor” is that of a “spiritual health worker.” And here is my main point:
Preaching sermons to large groups of people is both good and needed. At the same time, so is one-on-one counseling, prayer and accountability with each of his people. The sermons cover things that are common to all people. The one-on-one times cover issues that each specific individual faces. And everyone, everyone, has issues—even if it isn’t a problem or a “sin-issue” it is still an issue of growth and service unto God’s likeness.
So, if you can, please tell me what the difference between pastoral care and discipleship is. In the original language, a “pastor” is a shepherd. A shepherd raises sheep. A shepherd wants his sheep to be all that a sheep can be. So, that includes both the prevention of attacks and proper growth.
While a doctor might be primarily concerned with preventing and curing problems, a good health worker wants to see each person grow strong and be capable of working and serving society. Similarly, a good pastor is not only worried about spiritual problems their people face (whether problems they already have or those they might have if they’re not careful), but he is worried about the spiritual growth and service his people are able to do.
This takes both mass-instruction time, and personal one-on-ones.
These could be very simple things like: Wash your hands before eating. Boil water before drinking it. Wear shoes if you’re walking where animals defecate. Drink plenty of water. Sleep under a mosquito net. And so many more instructions that will improve the health of a village by the prevention of common problems that everyone face.
And so health workers schedule village-wide meetings to instruct everyone on these issues at one time. This saves the health workers from having to go around door to door and repeating the same things at each place. It prevents people from misunderstanding and claiming they were told differently than others. It also allows everyone to hear answers to questions that concern the people that perhaps the health worker wouldn’t have thought to tell everyone.
But the work of the doctor or health worker is still far from over after these mass health education seminars. Just because everyone faces certain common health threats, each person may still have their own health issues that are different from others. This means the health worker must still go around and give everyone a personal check-up.
I really think that the role of a “pastor” is that of a “spiritual health worker.” And here is my main point:
Preaching sermons to large groups of people is both good and needed. At the same time, so is one-on-one counseling, prayer and accountability with each of his people. The sermons cover things that are common to all people. The one-on-one times cover issues that each specific individual faces. And everyone, everyone, has issues—even if it isn’t a problem or a “sin-issue” it is still an issue of growth and service unto God’s likeness.
So, if you can, please tell me what the difference between pastoral care and discipleship is. In the original language, a “pastor” is a shepherd. A shepherd raises sheep. A shepherd wants his sheep to be all that a sheep can be. So, that includes both the prevention of attacks and proper growth.
While a doctor might be primarily concerned with preventing and curing problems, a good health worker wants to see each person grow strong and be capable of working and serving society. Similarly, a good pastor is not only worried about spiritual problems their people face (whether problems they already have or those they might have if they’re not careful), but he is worried about the spiritual growth and service his people are able to do.
This takes both mass-instruction time, and personal one-on-ones.
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