Last week I spent 5 days in Alaska on a mission trip. Our
goal was to finish up a lengthy punch list of projects intended to get part of
the hosting church’s building closer to an initial building inspection.
Stairs/handrails brought up to code—electrical conduit run—drop ceilings
installed in kitchen areas—vent-a-hoods and exhaust fans installed—all the
stuff that city inspectors and fire marshals require in order to operate any
type of commercial facility.
10 men ranging from ages 20 to mid-60’s from South Texas
flew 4200 miles (one way) to donate our construction skills and time in an
effort to “advance the kingdom.”
I don’t really know
what “advance the kingdom” means, but it seems like a good fit.
So, we’re fed three hearty meals a day at the church. We’re
separated into groups of two or three to stay at different church member’s
homes. And we’re only asked to do inside jobs because, let’s face it, we’re all
from South Texas and this is Alaska in November…those things aren’t even close to the same.
The hospitality was fantastic. The food was delicious. The
homes that we stayed in made us all feel like we were part of their families.
So, this is the part of the tale where we metaphorically
land on the carrier and announce “mission accomplished.” This is where I’m
supposed to talk about the bonds that we formed within the workgroup and what a
wonderful experience we had enjoying the magnanimous hospitality of these
wonderful Alaskans. This is where I’m supposed to thank God for the ability to
go—serve—interact with folks that I might not have ever had the opportunity to
share life with had it not been for this short term missionary opportunity.
After 4 days of contemplation and analyzing this trip, I
find myself increasingly disillusioned. I know we went there to meet a need. I
know we went there to offer help. I know we went there to minister to the needs
of this small congregation. I know that we went there with all the right
motives. I know that the work needed to be done to further their project toward
completion. I know that it was all seasoned with the best of intentions and
that we exceeded their expectations.
Why do I feel so funky about all of this?
Oh, wait! I know why I’m jacked up over this trip. It’s
probably because over $4000 was spent on airfare to get us all there and back.
It has something to do with the fact that the part of the
building we were doing work on was 12 years old and had never been occupied
because of a lack of completion.
I’m certain it has something to do with the observations
that this all took place near downtown Anchorage (not out in the wilderness) where
there were 5 churches within a 3 block radius.
And…you know…if I’d known that these folks were potentially competing
with the mission across the street instead of partnering with them…Oooo…let’s
not go there.
Call me naïve, cynical, overtly zealous, or just plain
stupid if you like, but here’s my analysis of the funk:
·
You partner with other churches in the area,
thereby, developing long-term relationships with your neighbors to collectively
meet the unique needs of the community that you share.
o
You DO NOT ask a group to front the bill for
airfare in order to get free labor from men that you’ll never see again. It’s
the missional equivalent of a “one night stand” (the term missionary position should be worked in here, but I’m not that
clever).
·
You analyze the needs of the community and weigh
out whether or not the facility you’re trying to complete has any tangible
value in relationship to those needs. If not, you leave it be (it’s set for 12
years—couldn’t be that critical to the overall mission of this particular
church).
o
You DO NOT prioritize the completion of a
building which has never been used simply because “we have to finish what
someone else started” or because someone in the congregation offers a large sum
of money to facilitate the completion of a portion of the project.
·
You determine what the direction of your church
is and how God intends to use it BEFORE you engage in costly renovations without
any concrete ideas about what you’re going to do with this structure once it’s
completed.
o
You DO NOT repeat the mantra, “someday God’s
gonna give us some direction” or “once this is complete our mandate from God
will become self-evident.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was a crazy homeless guy that was around the place
quite a bit. He was allowed to sleep in the church’s van and camp out inside
the building sometimes while we were there. He was obviously deranged and
easily agitated. He was tolerated, but never welcome. Most of the members of
the church avoided eye contact and relied heavily on one or two people to
control / direct the crazy homeless guy.
No one engaged him.
No one made eye contact with him.
No one gave any indication that he was present.
Everyone tightened up a little with fear when he was
present.
Would $4000 and the attention of 10 Texans have made a
meaningful impact in this man’s life? Probably not.
Would an institution devoted to feeding homeless folks like
this man every week have benefitted from $4000 and the effort of 10 volunteers
for a week? Most definitely.
Will the money, effort, and time consigned to this Alaskan
church’s building ever be justified through service to the community? Well, at
last check, no one seemed to have much of an idea.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Can we just cut
through the BS?
Anchorage has a huge homeless population. Why in the hell
are we riding the non-committal fence of “praying that God will lead us to
understand what our unique mission is in this community?” FEED THE HUNGRY—not
feed the overweight Texans.
You’ve got 20,000 ft2 that hasn’t been used for
anything other than a 12 year draw for mission groups from the lower 48? LET
THE HOMELESS IN OUT OF THE COLD—not let the Texans avoid the cold with
inside-only projects.
Anchorage seems to have as many churches as any small city
in the Bible Belt. Why aren’t these churches working together for any other
reason than to eliminate the $4000 captured by Delta and forgotten like it was
just spare change found between the cushions of the pews? BE GOOD STEWARDS OF
OUR BENEVOLENCE FUNDS—don’t waste it on frivolous self-affirming travel
agendas.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
All the men and women involved with this endeavor were good
people. They had good intentions. They probably feel very good about how it all
turned out and the means by which it was carried out. There were good things
that resulted from the trip.
But there are far greater needs in this world than the
fixing of stairs and the running of conduit. It’s an appeal to the lowest
common denominator. It’s a lazy way to serve and it’s an inefficient use of
time, energy, and money.
It’s leveraging a nice destination in order to gain free
labor. It’s fun, it’s somewhat beneficial, and it generates a good feeling
among the participants. We exceeded their expectations because their
expectations were too low.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Final shot of Bruce Almighty is a gradual close-up of
a dirty homeless guy holding a sign. As the shot grows closer the man’s face
begins to morph into the face of Morgan Freeman (who plays God). The visual
message is that God IS the least of
these. God IS the crazy homeless guy
with a short fuse and a mean disposition.
How dare we ignore the crazy homeless guy! How dare we avoid
eye contact with the dirty disenfranchised! How dare we heat a building for 12
years while the homeless sleep on park benches throughout the Alaskan winter
which lasts a really long time! How dare we complain about the length of the
flight or the width of the seat on the plane or the lack of leg room as long as
God is hungry, cold, weak, and lonely!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Last week I spent 5 days in Alaska on a “mission” trip. Our goal was to finish up a lengthy punch list of projects intended to get part of the hosting church’s building closer to an initial inspection. Stairs/handrails brought up to code—electrical conduit run—drop ceilings installed in kitchen areas—vent-a-hoods and exhaust fans installed—all the stuff that city inspectors and fire marshals require in order to operate any type of commercial facility."
I’m ashamed that I ignored the homeless guy in order to work
on a building.
I’m ashamed that I ignored God.
I’m ashamed and confused about what to do next.
Are we really meeting needs or are we nurturing our self?
Where do we go from here?
