When moving to a new culture and a new country, missionaries pack bags with clothes and other items we want to have in our new home. Many of us don't realize that, unintentionally, we also pack invisible bags, carrying our fears, weaknesses, memories.
We arrive in a new land and we unpack our suitcases into our new homes. We are unaware that we are unpacking our psychological baggage, too.
A lot of people imagine that the hardest thing about living in another culture is adjusting to the culture itself. But after spending eight years in two different cultures other than my own, I am inclined to think the hardest thing is living with your own weaknesses in a new place, without the comforts, securities and support network you had at home. In fact, you may not be as aware of your vulnerabilities until they come into starker focus against a new backdrop.
Since we moved abroad, I have become a great deal more aware of my tendency to anxiety. One of the clues was when, after a move, I found myself staying home a lot, avoiding people, afraid of the social missteps and etiquette mistakes that I would inevitably make as I learned my way around the new culture. Many times, after an interaction, I would lay awake that night worrying endlessly about the confusing body language or the certainty I had offended by something I either said or failed to say.
As I've reflected on the reasons for such anxiety, I've concluded that it comes down to increased vulnerability. To be a missionary is to live in a greater level of vulnerability: to rejection and disapproval of others, and to the enemy, who will always oppose us when we step out in obedience to God's call.
Fear of rejection
At home, we have friends and family who are familiar and love us unconditionally. This helps us feel more confident and secure.
But, in any new place -- and especially in a new culture -- you WILL make more mistakes. You must rely on the grace and forgiveness of your new friends and acquaintances to overlook them and help you learn. This leaves you vulnerable to the possibility of rejection or disapproval.
I don't think anybody easily accepts rejection or feeling vulnerable. You are a pretty rare human, indeed, if you don't have some desire not to be rejected. But for someone with a tendency toward anxiety, this creates the perfect opportunity for the enemy to exploit a weakness. The enemy can stoke the embers of worries and concerns to a raging fire that becomes debilitating when trying to interact with new people while learning the steps of new social dances.
Fear is the root of anxiety. When I fear making cultural mistakes that might offend the very people to whom I want to be a blessing, at a deeper level it can be about fearing rejection, or losing the approval of the other. Such a fear is caused when the focus on myself is greater than my focus on serving and loving the other.
So, what does a missionary (or any believer) do when she is afraid of rejection? A missionary/believer has a choice to make: To try and protect herself from being vulnerable to rejection, or to embrace that vulnerability -- and that possibility. She must look to the God she has followed to this new place and learn His attitude about rejection.
The God who became vulnerable
That one's easy. God -- as Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit -- loved us so much that He made Himself vulnerable by becoming a weak human to walk among us. He became God "with skin on" so that He could invite us into a loving, mutual relationship with Him. And what happened when He did that?
In the very fact that God does not force us to accept His invitation, He gives us the choice to say no; to walk away from Him. When we make that choice, we reject Him. And God is hurt. He suffers when we reject Him.
Somehow, the God who created all of the universe, from the largest spinning galaxy to the invisibly microscopic electron, made Himself vulnerable to human rejection -- a rejection that culminated in the murder of the God-man, Jesus, at the hands of His own creation.
Talk about rejection!
And yet, the invitation has been continuous since creation. God continues to issue this invitation to each person, opening Himself to and experiencing the agonizing pain of rejection billions of times over.
In light of this example, how could I continue to try and protect myself from rejection by withdrawing from or avoiding interactions and the uncertainty of new friendships in a new place?
His power is perfect in my weakness
Yes, I will make mistakes. I will unintentionally offend. I will get tired and stressed out and say or do the wrong thing in a moment of exasperation. I will be weak and vulnerable, because the power is in the hands of the other to decide whether or not to forgive and overlook; whether or not to extend grace.
Paul writes: "But [God] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Cor. 12:9).
I love this verse. It means we can embrace rather than fear this sense of weakness and vulnerability. God promises that our weakness is the perfect context in which His power and grace flourishes. We learn to depend more on God in each vulnerable circumstance.
It seems an appropriate Christmas reflection to remember that God was born in the form of a weak and vulnerable child, and grew up to become a man who was rejected by the very people He tried to reach. This rejection went as far as murder. Yet, that was not the end. Jesus was raised, and death did not defeat or diminish His love and mercy. He continues to reach out to us every day. We can spurn this and reject Him, or we can accept this amazing invitation.
Part of following such a God, wherever we are, is living a life of vulnerability with the possibility of rejection. But it's not about us. It's about sharing Christ with others, even if they reject us -- and Him.
"That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:10).
We arrive in a new land and we unpack our suitcases into our new homes. We are unaware that we are unpacking our psychological baggage, too.
A lot of people imagine that the hardest thing about living in another culture is adjusting to the culture itself. But after spending eight years in two different cultures other than my own, I am inclined to think the hardest thing is living with your own weaknesses in a new place, without the comforts, securities and support network you had at home. In fact, you may not be as aware of your vulnerabilities until they come into starker focus against a new backdrop.
Since we moved abroad, I have become a great deal more aware of my tendency to anxiety. One of the clues was when, after a move, I found myself staying home a lot, avoiding people, afraid of the social missteps and etiquette mistakes that I would inevitably make as I learned my way around the new culture. Many times, after an interaction, I would lay awake that night worrying endlessly about the confusing body language or the certainty I had offended by something I either said or failed to say.
As I've reflected on the reasons for such anxiety, I've concluded that it comes down to increased vulnerability. To be a missionary is to live in a greater level of vulnerability: to rejection and disapproval of others, and to the enemy, who will always oppose us when we step out in obedience to God's call.
Fear of rejection
At home, we have friends and family who are familiar and love us unconditionally. This helps us feel more confident and secure.
But, in any new place -- and especially in a new culture -- you WILL make more mistakes. You must rely on the grace and forgiveness of your new friends and acquaintances to overlook them and help you learn. This leaves you vulnerable to the possibility of rejection or disapproval.
I don't think anybody easily accepts rejection or feeling vulnerable. You are a pretty rare human, indeed, if you don't have some desire not to be rejected. But for someone with a tendency toward anxiety, this creates the perfect opportunity for the enemy to exploit a weakness. The enemy can stoke the embers of worries and concerns to a raging fire that becomes debilitating when trying to interact with new people while learning the steps of new social dances.
Fear is the root of anxiety. When I fear making cultural mistakes that might offend the very people to whom I want to be a blessing, at a deeper level it can be about fearing rejection, or losing the approval of the other. Such a fear is caused when the focus on myself is greater than my focus on serving and loving the other.
So, what does a missionary (or any believer) do when she is afraid of rejection? A missionary/believer has a choice to make: To try and protect herself from being vulnerable to rejection, or to embrace that vulnerability -- and that possibility. She must look to the God she has followed to this new place and learn His attitude about rejection.
The God who became vulnerable
That one's easy. God -- as Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit -- loved us so much that He made Himself vulnerable by becoming a weak human to walk among us. He became God "with skin on" so that He could invite us into a loving, mutual relationship with Him. And what happened when He did that?
In the very fact that God does not force us to accept His invitation, He gives us the choice to say no; to walk away from Him. When we make that choice, we reject Him. And God is hurt. He suffers when we reject Him.
Somehow, the God who created all of the universe, from the largest spinning galaxy to the invisibly microscopic electron, made Himself vulnerable to human rejection -- a rejection that culminated in the murder of the God-man, Jesus, at the hands of His own creation.
Talk about rejection!
And yet, the invitation has been continuous since creation. God continues to issue this invitation to each person, opening Himself to and experiencing the agonizing pain of rejection billions of times over.
In light of this example, how could I continue to try and protect myself from rejection by withdrawing from or avoiding interactions and the uncertainty of new friendships in a new place?
His power is perfect in my weakness
Yes, I will make mistakes. I will unintentionally offend. I will get tired and stressed out and say or do the wrong thing in a moment of exasperation. I will be weak and vulnerable, because the power is in the hands of the other to decide whether or not to forgive and overlook; whether or not to extend grace.
Paul writes: "But [God] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Cor. 12:9).
I love this verse. It means we can embrace rather than fear this sense of weakness and vulnerability. God promises that our weakness is the perfect context in which His power and grace flourishes. We learn to depend more on God in each vulnerable circumstance.
It seems an appropriate Christmas reflection to remember that God was born in the form of a weak and vulnerable child, and grew up to become a man who was rejected by the very people He tried to reach. This rejection went as far as murder. Yet, that was not the end. Jesus was raised, and death did not defeat or diminish His love and mercy. He continues to reach out to us every day. We can spurn this and reject Him, or we can accept this amazing invitation.
Part of following such a God, wherever we are, is living a life of vulnerability with the possibility of rejection. But it's not about us. It's about sharing Christ with others, even if they reject us -- and Him.
"That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:10).










