Photos Courtesy of Hacking Christianity
By meeting the needs of people from various Asian countries and cultures who have immigrated to the United States, The United Methodist Church has found a new mission field, writes Dr. Jacob Dharmaraj, head of the church's Inter-Ethnic Strategy Development Group.
Special to United Methodist Insight
The United Methodist Church’s mission statement succinctly explains the purpose of its existence and pithily articulates its ministerial priorities: “Make disciples” and “transform the world.” Through these imperatives, the denomination not only defines its missional code but delineates the dimensions of its ministerial performance as well. These words serve as sibling values for its identity as a faith organization.
Making disciples is not a onetime event but an ongoing process. Each generation of believers ought to evangelize the succeeding generation. As the hackneyed old saying goes, “Each congregation is only one generation away from extinction.”
If we need to evangelize the current generation and to make new disciples, which pond do we have to go to fish for disciples? If we have to bring about transformation, from where do we start? When or how do we let go of the deflated life preserver that has aided us in the past?” These are a few burning questions.
Evangelism as Formation
Today, churches are faced not with the specter of mass extinction but with mass obsolescence. Development of missional sensitivity and attainment of inimitable evangelistic skills, with willingness to see the intersections of trends and contexts that move like ripples across a pond, are supremely essential. It regularly prods us to be vigilant and unremittingly prompts us to gain ever new perspectives so that we might avoid being blindsided by the forces of our complex world.
Most of us are creatures of habit. Habits are molds on which life is cast. We find safety and comfort in our familiar and accustomed settings. Habits are the imperceptible architecture of our everyday life. We form habits and then habits form us. Habits are the fetters or the anchors of the soul. They serve as ruts that hamper and hobble our energies or serve as bars and banisters that protect and bear us on our daily journey. To embark on something new requires skill, determination, and willpower.
Therapists say, “If we change a person’s habits, we can change their lives.” That is why many parents bring their children to church and Sunday school—to develop ethical will and moral fiber—to develop good habits. By the time children become adults, good habits are baked into their DNA. That includes the notion of God and understanding of the church. Upon those notions, congregations are organized, mission engagements developed, and most importantly, public services are rendered. With inherited habits and personal transformative experience, we Christians worship and share our knowledge and love of God within and without the church.
In Alice Walker’s novel, The Color Purple, one of the characters suggests the relation between church and world. “Say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church?” “I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.” It is true to a large extent for many of us.
Evangelization as a Meeting Place
Three years ago, my wife, Glory, and I had the privilege of witnessing and participating in the planting of three new Asian language congregations in Syracuse, N.Y. What amazes me even today is the way the new faith communities come into being. Two Asian refugee Christian families used to gather in their living room on Sunday mornings to watch and listen to sermons on YouTube in their native language. Prompted by loneliness and lack of social life, a few non-Christian refugee families also joined them in informal worship on Sunday mornings. As this refugee community has been thwarted and spurned, their psyches warped by repression and rejection by the surrounding culture, this fledgling worshiping community offered a safe haven and a place for rejuvenation.
Within a few months, this house church began to grow. My Laotian friend began to visit them once a month and lead worship services on Sunday afternoons. He preached in the Laotian language that was translated into Thai, which was then translated into Karenni (Burmese). Thus began a multi-lingual church in the heart of a city.
When the number of worshipers increased, several local churches in Syracuse were contacted about offering these Christians a place to gather and worship. No door was opened. After months of search, a decommissioned United Methodist Church was contracted for $250 in monthly rent. The Karenni congregation took off right away and the average attendance reached over 70. Soon after, the Nepali refugee Christians formed their worship service. The Nepalis were followed by Sudanese, Ethiopians, and Zimbabweans with a request to form an Arabic language worship service. Currently, they all worship in the same building at 8:30 a.m., 10:30 a.m. and 3 p.m. on Sundays in three different languages.
The Language Ponds
For the first time, in the history of The United Methodist Church, Karenni and Nepali language congregations were established—without any pomp or fanfare. Sunday worship attendance averages between 84 and 96 per language group, most of them first-generation converts. A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of leading an informal worship service when we gathered in Andy’s camp, north Syracuse, for an afternoon picnic and worship. It was attended by 158 people, who were mostly Karenni, Nepali, and Arabic speaking congregants.
We don’t always have to travel to “foreign countries” to make new disciples. There are plenty of “ponds” and opportunities right here in our own towns and regions.
Ministry with refugees and migrant communities encompasses relationship and trust building. Refugee ministry has no comprehensive blueprint, and it is not a speedy process. Unlike traditional ministry, it is non-lineal and filled with challenges and surprises. We may not see the results right away, but the seed of the gospel will eventually sprout to yield a golden harvest.
While I was working with these refugees three years ago, Glory and I were asked by two Cambodian refugee women to lead a retreat just for Cambodian women in the Los Angeles area. One of them was a medical doctor who was brought to the United States as an orphan. With limited financial resources and an abundance of skeptics, 48 Cambodian women came to the retreat. Two years ago, 72 Cambodian women participated in the event; last year the number grew to 98 in San Jose. At the end of August of this year, when we gathered again at Wrightwood Camp near Ontario, CA it was attended by a little over 110 participants.
Centrality in Christian Mission
Christian mission today invites us to recognize a shift from our traditional concepts and approaches to focus on the centrality of the kingdom of God in mission theology. It is no longer exclusively ecclesiocentric (church-centered), so much so that the success and fruitfulness of mission are not measured merely from the growth of the church. In our new and complex world, we must re-conceptualize our traditional understanding of mission and its praxis. We have to be flexible and mobile. Most importantly, we are invited to play the role of a servant and an agent in the same way that Christ did to the strangers and foreigners.
At the conclusion of the retreat for the Cambodian women, I shared a funny fable that illustrated how some of us in the leadership had labored against all odds and eventually succeeded in organizing the retreat for the marginalized and vulnerable Cambodian women. This fable is about an outlaw who was hauled before the king of the land to plead for his life. When he came to know that the king had a fondness for one his horses, the outlaw promised that if his life was spared for a year, he could teach the king’s favorite horse to sing. The king consented. When the outlaw went back to prison, his cell mate scoffed at him: “You could never teach the king’s horse to sing even if you had a lifetime.”
And the man said: “It doesn’t matter. I have a year now that I didn’t have before. Besides, a lot of things can happen in a year. The king might die. The horse might die. I might die. And, who knows? Maybe the horse will sing.”
When Glory and I were leaving the campsite to go to the airport, I was given a card signed by several Cambodian women. It said, “Thank you, Dr. Jacob. The horse is singing!”
Dr. Jacob Dharmaraj serves as president of the Inter-Ethnic Strategy Development Group for The United Methodist Church.