The Most Successful Ministry Failure Ever

When Seth and I were seeking counsel on whether or not to return to our suddenly-shockingly dangerous mission field, one counselor made some pithy statements that stuck with me; and I've ruminated on them since.

That meeting was quite humbling, because the take-away main point had to do with how unnecessary we are. We really needed convincing on that point! :) When we contemplated leaving Africa, we couldn't get around the "need" for laborers in our field.

Ours is a pioneer mission field. Swiss Presbyterian missionaries laid a wonderful foundation in the last century by translating the entire Bible, translating hymns and inventing a musical notation system for a hymnal, starting schools and hospitals, and building Presbyterian churches. Unfortunately by the '50s,  they were going liberal in their theology and lost the Gospel; and by the '60s, the missionaries were gone.

We, along with our teammates, and a national pastor or possibly two, are the only true churches with a Gospel witness in about 2.2 million Tsonga people in South Africa, and 3.1 million more in Mozambique. Truly the laborers are few! Who else, we wondered, would go through the struggle to learn this African language that had no language school? Learning the language and culture was an investment we weren't going to easily give up.

And we hadn't been "successful" enough yet to leave! Our infant church needed us. It wasn't ready to stand on its own.

But this counselor wanted to make a point even more important than our need for humility (and yes, even he, I think, would concede that our field does "need" laborers), and that is, that our children also needed us--parents, alive and whole, whose eyes could focus on them, and not always be focused on the ministry--in fact, that our children needed us more than the ministry needed us.

I know, this isn't really rocking your world yet, is it? Duh, no brainer. We'd all say our family is more important than ministry. 

But then he mentioned a Scriptural example that gave me a new flash of understanding, that set that truth in a clearer light for me. Are you ready for some easy Bible trivia? See if you can answer this question, the question he posed to us when we were busy arguing for why we were needed in Africa:

Who did Noah take on the ark with him?

Noah's Sacrifice by Jacobo Bassano

The Bible is clear-- "Noah, the eighth person," it says.

By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house; by the which he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith. ~Heb. 11:7

Which sometime were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water. ~1 Pet. 3:20

And spared not the old world, but saved Noah the eighth person, a preacher of righteousness, bringing in the flood upon the world of the ungodly. ~2 Pet. 2:5

And the Lord said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation. ~Gen. 7:1

And Noah went in, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons' wives with him, into the ark... ~Gen. 7:7

The new, interesting thought to me was an analysis of Noah's "ministry" successes. Peter called him a "preacher." I've heard some sermons or children's presentations that mention him preaching to the ungodly for over 100 years. Dramatic recordings usually have Noah pausing in the middle of building the ark to preach a sermon to unbelievers in evangelistic 21-century style.

I'm not sure if that preaching was the same as what we think of today when we think of preaching. But at the least, we know that his righteous lifestyle was counter-cultural, and that preached. And his building of the ark, motivated by fear grounded on faith, spoke; that also was counter-cultural, and this "preaching" condemned the world.

And what does he have to show for his evangelistic efforts?

"Nothing," most of us would respond.

And there's the rub, the immediate rebuke: nothing??! Saving his family is nothing?

But I'm pretty sure that if Noah were reporting to supporting churches after twenty years of service, he'd have lost support. If he were trying to raise more support in his 87th year of service on his oh-so-very-needy field, he wouldn't get it! If ministry successes were based on numbers, and let's admit it, we all do assess our ministry successes this way to some extent, we wouldn't support Noah, the eighth person, today. Wow.

Noah's Ark Mural by David Jermann

So was he a failure, then?

Ezekiel implies he was one of the best, listing him in a group of three along with Daniel and Job. And what of Jeremiah, preaching for fifty years, with only three converts mentioned?

No, Noah the eighth person was righteous, and one of the most obvious marks of his righteousness is that his "house" got on the ark with him. In a day when evil abounded, and every imagination of the thoughts of man's heart was only evil continually, Noah saved his family. His family got on the ark with him.

What about you, dear missionaries and preachers of righteousness? Who are you gonna take on the ark with you? It can be so hard to balance the needs of ministry with the needs of family. My husband tried to think through the difficulties of obtaining this balance here.

For those all-out, die-hard missionaries who can sometimes run over people in their zeal, let's get this one point from Noah's example:

In the eyes of many, his "ministry" was a failure; but he saved his family. And God called him righteous. The eighth person was a hero of the faith.

Noah's Daughter-in-Law in the Dovecote by Mary Jane Q. Cross

It's Home!

Having lived in Spain for thirty years, sometimes I see uniqueness through my visitors’ eyes more clearly than my own. The differences in our field seem normal to us, now. Here are some examples:

When we first got here, I was shocked that people tucked a long loaf of bread—think French—under an arm. There was no wrapper, and lots of people avoided deodorant. Now, I buy bread and tuck it under my arm sometimes. (You’ll be glad to know I believe in using deodorant!)

Servers place chunks of bread on the tablecloth. Everyone uses both fork and knife the whole meal long. Both hands are at the table. Spanish people don’t switch hands after cutting meat. They just use the fork in the left hand to pop the food in their mouths. Now, when we go back to the States, people say to me, “We notice you eat European-style.” Yes, I simply cannot eat without a knife in one hand. It’s great; you don’t have to chase little pieces of food around the plate. You always have a solid pusher. Why didn’t Americans come up with this?

Another foodie thing—or maybe I should call it “drinkie.” Here in Spain, although many people drink wine with meals, a lot drink water. It’s plain ole water, usually served room temperature. No ice, ever, in water. So, we have guests, and we pour water for everyone. It’s normal for us; not so for our guests. We hosted a group, and the ladies made iced tea and Crystal Light. I only have two ice trays . . . .

Stateside with our two teenagers in the car, I was zipping around, driving my dad’s old Toyota Corolla in a 25 mph speed-limit residential area. One of my children was watching the speedometer and constantly saying, “Mama, you’re speeding . . . Mama, you’re speeding.” Well, technically, I guess I was. (Don’t report me, please. I was doing 30 mph, which to me was a snail’s pace.) In Spain, we enjoy faster, more aggressive driving and higher speed limits. I’ve since learned to watch it in both worlds, but I confess I like driving standard transmission and buzzing around.

I worked at a Christian magazine when I was (much) younger, and I would often catch misspellings the editors missed. After learning a second language, I am addicted to spell check, thankful for a dictionary, and I frequently look up whether a word is one or two and whether or not it’s hyphenated. All of that very good English and excellent spelling went down the tubes somewhere!

I used to feel like a foreigner. Now, when I see someone who’s obviously not from the Basque Country, I think, “I wonder where he’s/she’s from.” Then, I realize I’m a foreigner too, and others are probably thinking the same about me.

You see, it’s home.

We’ve lived longer here than we lived in our “home” country. We brought up our children here. We understand the lifestyle and have adapted. Truthfully, we are more at home here than at “home.” Our birth country will forever be the foundation of our lives, and we’re loyal citizens, but we’re at home here. Does that make sense?

“Where are you from?” gets a confused answer. “Ummm . . . do you mean in the States, originally, or where do we live?”

“Can you tell me why you don’t want to sign up for the store credit card and get a 40% discount on your purchase today?”

“Well, we live overseas, and we’d probably never use it again.”

“Oh yes? Where?”

“Spain.”

“Oh.” Pause. End of conversation.

Yes, we’ve been here way too long. It’s become home.

But . . .

“This world is not my home; I’m just a passing through.”* (In Spanish, the second line is translated “I’m a pilgrim here.”)

Our perfect home is somewhere else. Home is heaven! We have a whole different perspective.

We’re only pilgrims.

The heroes of faith in Hebrews 11 understood this: These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth (Hebrews 11:13). Peter knew it, too. (1 Peter 2:11)

We haven’t yet seen our permanent home, but we will. Until then, God has given us the greatest message in the world to spread all over this world.

• And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature (Mark 16:15).
• For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved (John 3:17).

Our task is before us. Our mission is clear.

When we feel like strangers at home or abroad, we remember we’re just pilgrims passing through. Our life is, after all, just a vapor. (James 4:14)

When we’re mind-boggled about what we need to be doing and are trying to decide priorities, our mission is always the same. Go . . . and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen (Matthew 28:19-20).

When I need a priority check, I go back to my simple mission statement, Matthew 28:19-20, along with 1 Corinthians 10:31, which says we’re to do everything to glorify God:

• Does this activity actually glorify God?
• Does this activity teach others about Christ and His salvation?
• Does this activity lead people to obey God?
• Does this activity teach holy precepts?
• Am I evidencing through my life the Holy Spirit in me?

Am I a living testimony?

“This world is not (our) home. (We’re) just a passing through.”*

* “This World Is Not My Home” by Mary Reeves and Albert E. Brumley