Unique and United: A Partnership in South Africa

by Jim Lo

This month marks 13 years of missionary service for me. I have learned that missionary and national church relationships are never static. They are always changing.

This month marks 13 years of missionary service for me. I have learned that missionary and national church relationships are never static. They are always changing.

I knew that both missionaries and local Christians were needed to build the church of Jesus Christ. But during my first year neither of us found any significant mutual ministries, for a number of reasons.

PRIDE
I had come to Africa proudly. Just a few months earlier I had graduated with my master’s degree, magna cum laude. Armed with my superior academic achievements, I had come to tell my African brothers and sisters how we were going to grow the church. I actually thought that my degree would so impress the Africans that they would automatically listen to me.

But I was wrong. My African listeners, some of whom had seen more than 60 summers come and go, were not ready for some 28-year-old missionary to order them around.

PREJUDICES
Another reason we didn’t get along was my prejudice. Coming from Oriental stock, I had been told as a young child that Chinese people were the best in the world. My ethnic background was filled with wonderful tales of ingenuity and accomplishments.

After my first visit to an African village, I saw the Africans as simple people who would never attain my level. I saw them as primitive, myself as culturally sophisticated. My prejudice was reinforced when I saw how they ate with their fingers. After all, civilized people use forks, spoons and chopsticks.

ARROGANCE
I was also arrogant. I acted as though I knew more than the Africans. I thought, What can these people ever do for me? I’m going to be the giver and they will be the takers. My arrogance kept me from seeing that they are great givers.

The Africans, of course, sensed my pride, prejudice and arrogance, and they withdrew. So I withdrew from them. Our only real connection was our common denominational membership.

We did not work together. I sat for months and fumed in my office, feeling sorry for myself. I thought, I’ve come all this way. I’m wasting my time trying to help these ungrateful people.

GIVING AND RECEIVING
The turning point came a year later at a meeting with some of the national leaders. An old pastor stood up. Of the many things he said, this is what struck me most: “Rev. Lo, we would like you to minister to us, but we also would like to minister to you.”

In the following months I allowed my African brothers to minister to me. They invited me into their homes, fed me, and took care of me. They shared their stories. They told me why they did certain things the way they did. They showered me with gifts.

At first I struggled. I had much more than they did. I should have given things to them. But they insisted. Every time I received, my pride, prejudice, and arrogance began to melt away.

Spending time with them, I learned that even though they did not have university degrees, they still had a lot to teach me. For example, “Rev. Lo, walk this way in the deep sand and it will take the strain off your legs.” “The African way is to confront without causing a person to lose face.” “Forget your toothbrush? No problem; we’ll teach you how to make a brush out of a certain tree.”

I also learned that, contrary to my prejudice, African culture is both sophisticated and detailed. My arrogance gradually faded away.

As I opened myself to these people, they became more intimate with me. Little by little they loosened up and even began joking with me. One day at a district meeting some of the pastors played a prank on me. They hid my briefcase and watched as I frantically searched all morning. At noon, with huge grins on their faces, they said, “Look at what we found! The wayward briefcase has returned home!”

At first I didn’t know how to take this. Then, when I saw the humor in the situation, I began to laugh. When they saw I could laugh at myself with them, they opened up even more.

I began to anticipate their fellowship. I enjoyed having them in my home, and being in theirs. One Christmaswe invited a pastor and his family to spend the day with us. When he left he said, “Now we know you really love us. We are no longer just the people you came to work with. Now we see that we are your friends as well.”

As our fellowship increased, so did our trust. I began to trust them to make wise decisions. I considered them not as uneducated but as wise men who knew how to incorporate the gospel in their culture. The more I asked questions of them, the more they asked questions of me. The more I opened myself to them, the more they opened themselves to me.

A highlight of my second year came after I had preached about the sins of the flesh. Using my Zulu dictionary, I found the word for sexual promiscuity and used it throughout my message. The next day an old pastor scolded me because that word is never to be used in front of women. Instead of arguing, I quietly accepted his reprimand and later apologized to him and the church. This incident opened the door to great intimacy in our relationship. One pastor told me that if I had reacted the wrong way, I would have cut off any future openness between us.

By my third year we had discovered the joys of mutual encouragement. So, after my pride, prejudice, and arrogance had melted, I tried to mimic them in everything. I wanted them to love and accept me. I wanted them to know that I was ashamed of my previous attitudes. I thought I could do this by working hard to become just like them. I thought this would please them.

At first, this was fun and challenging. I enjoyed learning their language. Sleeping in a mud hut was fun. I enjoyed walking long miles to their church stations. I even liked eating with my hands.

But I eventually got frustrated. I knew enough of their language to conduct services, but I struggled to understand everything they said. I wanted to be one of them, but my Zulu with an American accept exposed me as a stranger. Although I enjoyed living in a mud hut for a weekend, I missed my Western-style home when I was away on extended trips. I thought this was a spiritual issue. After all, spiritual people become the same as the people they work with.

One day I jokingly said that before too long I wanted to become totally African. Wisely, one of the pastors replied, “Jim, if you were to become totally African, you would not be true to yourself. You would lose the unique identity God has given you. In fact, we don’t want you to become one of us. But we do want to continue in the unity we have together in Jesus Christ.”

His words freed me to be myself. Therefore, I’m suggesting an elliptical model of the missionary-national church relationship, with bipolar tension and points. Missionaries and national churches are neither totally separate nor totally identical. As L.M. Heyns put it,

An ellipse comprises two circles that have opened up to each other to form a new entity, but one with two centers. An ellipse has two centers, each contributing independently to the whole. Between these two centers there is a tension which is in perfect equilibrium (A Primer in Practical Theology. Pretoria: Gnosis Books, 1990, p. 31).

In the relationship between missionaries and national church, the autonomy of each must never be destroyed or abolished. At the same time, they must be interdependent. The ellipse represents unity without identity, diversity without division. Both parties recognize the value of each other. Both parties are unique.

I’ve heard many criticisms of missionaries. One young man said, “Too many missionaries have come only to start Western-style churches.” Another man said, “We are Africans. We want churches that reflect our Africanism. We are a people who want to worship God in our own way.” Perhaps what they were saying is that missionaries must always be careful not to ignore the values and uniqueness of the people.

As I have written Bible studies for our churches, I’ve incorporated a lot of what I know about the subject. But I’ve also incorporated what my African brothers and sisters know as well. No longer can it becalled a “missionary” study. It’s a blend of knowledge, the work of different thinkers from different cultures, unified in purpose.

As missionaries and the church recognize and value each other’s uniqueness, and as they work together in unity, both will benefit and the church will grow.

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