It’s good to be honest when things don‘t work out as we expect – in mission as in all of life. Tom and Verity Clare have graciously shared their mission experiences with us, and explain why they returned to the UK sooner than they planned.

In Spring 2023, just as the first rains finally arrived after a long, dry season in Arua, we announced to our wonderful supporters that we were leaving Uganda.

During the dry season, it feels like the place is getting hotter and hotter, dustier and dustier, day by day, until you are so used to constantly sweating that you almost forget what it’s like to feel chilly. Then, just when you are beginning to doubt whether it will ever rain again, the rains come. The boys’ response was usually to rush outside and do a ‘rain run’, zigzagging under the drops.

Then before long, the flowers start to come out.

We felt the joy of spring rains more keenly than ever this year, because we knew that this would be the last time the children would be doing their ‘rain run’.

Acknowledging the struggle

For over a year, I (Tom) had been increasingly struggling with the reality of life in Uganda and our two older boys had also found it increasingly difficult.

My role in Arua involved a combination of clinical medicine, training, administration and management. Clinical medicine could be very frustrating at times, with patients often unable to access treatments due to their cost, or incorrect or delayed diagnoses sometimes having fatal consequences. Training medical staff in the disparate health centres was enjoyable, however, with the six health centres being located between 45 minutes and three hours’ drive away, it proved challenging to help develop a Christ-centred working culture as an occasional visitor. Administration and management in health are both areas that require a strong knowledge of the underlying local health systems, knowledge which I slowly gained but even after a time, mostly lacked.

In summary, I found it hard to come to terms with the knowledge that I wasn’t doing the job well. Mostly because I wasn’t trained, experienced or passionate in the right areas to thrive in the job roles. I did the best I could, but my best in Africa felt a long way from where it used to be.

I also found it hard at times on a social and personal level. The local language proved difficult to master. Local friendships were extremely hard to cultivate. My concern for supporting Verity and the children at home prevented me from spending time just sitting with people. The constant identification and attention as a ‘mundu’ (foreigner) was wearing and increasingly became a problem for me mentally.

My concern for the kids’ happiness also weighed heavily at times. For the two oldest boys, a lot of the problems seemed to come from being away from wider family. They have always been very close to their grandparents on both sides and to other family members. We prayerfully hoped and expected that as time passed, they would find it easier living on a distant continent, but with every departure from the UK, they found it progressively harder to cope with.

A difficult decision

Having acted on God’s established call on our lives to serve him overseas, we tried to serve him faithfully. We wrestled with these challenges over a long period, pressing on and pressing on and praying for God’s strength in our weakness. We tried changing my working role and tweaking the way in which we communicate with family in the UK to help the boys. We continued to submit to God’s sovereign will and to seek him for wisdom. At what point should difficulty for some of us lead to a change in environment? What level of challenge or distress should trigger a big change? How do we respond in unity when some of us are thriving and others aren’t?

For us, after talking and praying through the issues again over many months, we felt that God was saying that it was the right time to go back. It was earlier than we had initially planned and in many ways it felt like we hadn’t finished what we set out to do. But we also knew that God was leading us and had always been faithful to us.

After a time of handover and farewells, we are now back in the UK. I am working as a GP again. I really want to thank you so much for all of your prayers and support during our time in Uganda. Sometimes we felt like our prayer update emails weren’t as God-filled or as hopeful as they should be, but we appreciated the many replies we received from faithful pray-ers as we tried to share a realistic picture of what we were going through: the peaks and the troughs.

Grateful to God and to you

Looking back on our time in Uganda, we are both overwhelmed with thankfulness to God. I had amazing work colleagues at the Diocese, holy and thoughtful in their ministry and on fire for Jesus. Our children learned so much and they made some really great friendships, among others in the expat community, and also with local children, many of whom they played with daily. Verity and the three other children enjoyed the richness and flexibility of life in Uganda. I was able to serve a good number of patients, with God using me on more than one occasion to bring a life-saving intervention and many less-dramatic but still-significant therapeutic blessings.

We are thankful for the beauty of the sunrise and the fresh chill of the new rains. We are thankful for the inspiring example of hardworking local women and the faithful, Christ-centred church leaders with whom we worked. We’re thankful for God’s provision for us as a family at every stage. We’re thankful for the many friends and family who saw our calling and supported us in prayer and giving. We’re thankful for our children and the great blessing they continue to be to us and others. We’re thankful for so many more things than we can succinctly list here. Most of all we’re thankful to God who sees us, who knows us, complete with all our weaknesses and walls, yet still loves us enough to send Jesus as our rescuer.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.…

Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139:1,23–24

Pray with us

God, we thank you for who you are. Thank you for loving us, for rescuing us, for transforming us day by day. We dedicate our lives to you and we ask that you would continue to reveal yourself to us more and more every day wherever we may find ourselves serving you. Amen.

Related posts

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post The end of a season and the start of another appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

Owen was on the streets, taking drugs and rejected by family. His story could have been similar to that of many young men in Honduras: drawn into gangs, crime and destruction.

But today Owen is studying at university and running a barbers’ shop with CMS mission partners Lindsey and Steve Poulson, who work with children and young people at risk.

Here Owen and Steve tell Owen’s story…

My name is Owen. I am from Honduras. I’m 24 years old and I’m the owner of Barbería Marquez Alas.

Rejection

I grew up in a disintegrated family and I was rejected by my mother. That was really hard and I decided to go to the streets.

God gave me the gift of being a good student. Despite being on the streets, taking drugs and doing very bad things, I still got very good exam results. That meant I could join a project where I could live in a children’s home here in Talanga, a town north of Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras.

When I went into the children’s home, my family wanted nothing to do with me. For the 13 years I lived there, neither my mum nor my dad, nor any of my family, visited me. And that really was hurtful, because I wanted them to see that I was not a failure.

Steve: I met Owen as a teenager when he was living in the children’s home. Owen had lots of difficulties growing up, but he’s always been very responsible and willing to work. A few years ago, he started to learn to cut hair and practised on me. I went through a couple of years with pretty bad haircuts. But now, it’s got much better.

I realised that having my hair cut by Owen was a great opportunity to chat with him, so that ended up being our times of mentoring. We would come together every couple of weeks or every month – he would cut my hair and I would hear about his life.

Switching off from God

Owen: I always heard about Jesus. When I was a small child, my uncle and aunt would take me to church and Sunday School. I also joined a Bible study group for children. About four years ago I left the children’s home, and with it the safe bubble where I’d grown up. I started to spend time with people I had met at school and they weren’t necessarily a good influence.

My life completely changed. I started going out to parties, spending time with women and doing things that didn’t honour God. Although I was able to work, I would still go out at the weekends and abuse my body. I knew it wasn’t pleasing to God, so I sort of switched off that part of my life.

Steve: When Owen left the children’s home, I was still able to go and get my hair cut by him, so we stayed in contact. I had always said, “Why don’t you come and join us and start your business, your barbers’ shop, with Proyecto Alas [the project Lindsey and Steve work with]?”

Proyecto Alas

Lindsey and Steve Poulson work in mentoring, creating safe spaces for at-risk children and young people to grow. They explain what Proyecto Alas is all about:

“Gang violence, corruption and poverty affect many Honduran young people. Many experience trauma at home and have few opportunities to change their circumstances. They feel abandoned to make a life for themselves and seek belonging in the only place they can think of – the street.

“Proyecto Alas started as a mentoring programme for children and young people. We bring together a consistent and caring adult with a child or young person, and that adult walks alongside them. There’s so much research showing even just an hour a week one to one in this positive environment can really make a difference.

“Proyecto Alas has grown and now includes an education programme for children to get homework help, a psychologist who provides support and a youth group at the weekends.

“We’ve also started businesses, such as Owen’s barbers’ shop and a cafe, that bring in support for the project and provide employment opportunities for the teenagers as they get older. Through employing people in our businesses, we’re able to give them a dignified way of helping themselves. It’s really exciting to see coffee shop staff, for example, paying for their own education.”

Sick of it all

Owen: There came a point when I realised I was sick of this monotonous life. I went into a time of very deep depression, and I tried to just finish it all. I started praying again because I was sick of what my life was turning into. And I started searching for God again.

One morning I woke up crying, feeling terrible. I said to God, “I don’t want this anymore… God, what do you want for my life?” The Lord gave me the opportunity to start receiving discipleship. And also to be part of the barbers’ shop project.

Steve: At the beginning of 2022 Owen was in a really low place. One day he called because he was losing his job and his home. We managed to arrange a place to stay, and we worked together towards opening the barbers’ shop.

While all of that was going on, we were getting to spend more time with Owen. He was coming to prayer meetings at our house and at one of those he re-dedicated his life to the Lord. There was a 180-degree change in his life. From searching for meaning in drugs and a whole host of things he shouldn’t be doing, he started seeking Jesus.

180-degree change

Owen: Over the past year, there’s been a big change in me emotionally. I realised that even though I was going out to parties, it was something I didn’t want. I was hiding a hole in my heart. When I stopped going out, I was able to stop filling that hole with things that really weren’t healthy for me. I am very thankful to God that I’ve gone at least six months with no alcohol and no drugs.

God has given me the strength to keep going every day, get up every day and never give up.

Although I didn’t grow up with my father or mother, God always put people around me. And thanks to God, those people have helped me to grow spiritually and through my education. Now whenever I wake up, I say, “God, may your will be done today. I want to follow you.” And when I go to sleep, I say “thank you”.

“It’s amazing to
see how Owen
is really taking
charge of his
own life under
the guidance of
the Lord….”

Lindsey and Steve Poulson,
mission partners in Honduras

Passing it on

Steve: Owen is now an example for our other children and youth. He’s been through what they are going through. So it’s great to see him studying social work at university Monday to Thursday and then Friday to Sunday running the barbers’ shop.

Jesus has changed Owen amazingly. It’s not been easy. It’s been a long journey with many ups and downs. But we know we need to just keep going. Never give up. Jesus never gave up on me. So why should we give up on Owen and the other young people we work with?

Owen: I’d like to serve as an example for the kids [at Proyecto Alas] and be a help to them. Because it might not be easy, but asking for help from God and just keeping on going every day makes it worth it.

I don’t just want to be an example of someone who’s graduated and has their own business. I want them to see that I’m someone who serves the Lord. Because everything that I have has been given to me by God.

Recently I got a tattoo on my leg saying “I just didn’t give up,” because Jesus has always been there and he didn’t give up on me.

Give today

Your generosity makes stories like this possible. Thank you!

Help transform even more lives with a gift today. Jesus never gives up. Neither should we.

Donate

Related posts

Get our email updates:

SIGN UP

The post The cutting edge appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

After five years of overseas service, returning mission partners Phil and Sylvie Good reflect on their expectations and the reality of their time in the Middle East and North Africa.

When we felt called to mission partner service, we knew it would involve laying down some things, including a more conventional retirement life of travel and leisure.

We knew we’d be laying down a sense of home and belonging to a place. Yet we felt a deep desire to offer up our administrative gifts to join in God’s mission.

As it turned out, we actually had to lay aside our gifts, too.

Beirut beginnings

As we discerned with CMS where God was calling us, “refugee” was an important word. So, we set off to Beirut, Lebanon, to partner with organisations working with Syrian refugees.

Initially, we were based at Life Center Church in a slum area, which provides a lot of practical help for refugees. We anticipated helping with administration, supporting the delivery of various programmes and making things more efficient. Once there, we had to face the reality that our priority of efficiency wasn’t the project’s biggest need.

We realised that what was actually needed was childcare, to support women accessing and providing the refugee services. So, we set up a space with toys and were blessed by being able to connect with families who longed for community.

We then worked with Resurrection Church Beirut (RCB) – this was a context with greater resources but also great need, serving over a thousand Syrian refugees.

During the time we served with RCB, the huge explosion at the port in Beirut on 4 August 2020 happened. We worked with RCB to provide relief, and Phil helped with fundraising to support the work of clearing up and rebuilding.

God’s lead and local need

As the fundraising for the clean-up came to an end, we relocated to northern Lebanon to work with CMS local partners Emil and Reem Bourizk, who run a school for refugee children. We were able to help them convert a nearby unfinished house into a school building, so they could move the school out of their home.

Managing this project was hugely rewarding, and we saw the school expand to offer education to more children. But after the building was complete, once again we knew that our strengths were not what was needed – so we laid them down and sought God’s next steps.

Since then, we have spent a brief time in north Africa, connected with an organisation equipping Christians from a Muslim background for discipleship, supported media ministry SAT-7 with fundraising and been involved with creation care organisation A Rocha Lebanon.

Presence over projects

Throughout our mission journey, we found that the core of our work was being present – and that for all our administrative skills, being with people was of greatest value.

Yet while we could say we were “supporting refugees”, we were really walking through life with our newfound friends and learning from them. These refugee friends had lost homes, possessions and relationships, but had met Jesus and said that they were glad they came to Lebanon because meeting Jesus is worth it all.

Our friends also helped us learn the local language and taught Sylvie to make makdous, a traditional food made from aubergines. We saw that only ever receiving saps at people’s dignity and self-respect, so us coming in our weakness to learn became a gift, as much as our skills were.

We loved spending time in the homes of those who have heard the gospel. Sylvie regularly gathered together with a group of women, some who have met Jesus and others who were journeying, as they spent time crafting, drinking coffee and reading and discussing the Gospels.

We visited refugee camps – and in so doing laid down any sense of taking the lead, as our language skills meant being guided by local colleagues. And there we spent time sitting in a temporary home with friends, seeing God working with everyone differently. What went on in those spaces was more important than any project plan, than the things we had to lay aside for the sake of knowing Jesus.

In walking with friends there are challenges – we have had to accept where we can change things and where we cannot. We could be a bridge some of the time between refugee friends and others, but we couldn’t remove all prejudice. We have to humbly accept where God can work and we cannot.

Learning at the edges

Five years ago, we knew that we wanted to connect with God and to know Jesus more. But our mission partner experience involved more laying down and also more growth and blessing than we could have anticipated.

We don’t come back having “fixed” anything, or having vastly improved efficiency. Instead we were involved in working with God to support people whose lives have more important needs than that, who need to know Jesus is there for them wherever they find themselves.

We have discovered that our gifts can be valuable, but our presence even more so. And we have seen that Jesus never gives up on precious people, even when the world forgets about them.

Take part

Could God be calling you on an adventure to follow Jesus to the edges in mission? We’d love to chat!

Get in touch

Related posts

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Learning to lay things down appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

Caught between two worlds, our people in mission are often faced with the stark realities of privilege and poverty. Mission partner Suzy Wilson takes us for a walk…

By Suzy Wilson

Almost every day I walk along the road outside our compound. There is a quiet kind of vibrancy there that I relish; I greet Alem, who sells coffee under her tarpaulin at the side of the road, and crouch down to buy potatoes from one of the ladies who piles them up just nearby.

I visit the fruit store, its shelves heavy with colour and laden with produce – watermelons, bananas, papayas. I walk past the line of older teenage boys who are chatting and laughing, apparently unconcerned whether or not they gain much business shining shoes. I stop by the souk next to the lively bus station, where tuk tuks and minibuses compete for customers and space to manoeuvre.

Feeling the weight

Soon my rucksack is heavy with dark green avocados, those green-yellow local oranges that the kids love, and milk, eggs and meat. That was the easy part. Then I turn and begin the short walk back to our house. I feel the weight in my bag as I pass the girl with a seriously scarred face, the lady leaning heavily on her stick with only one leg, and the mum and her baby, who is learning to crawl at the side of the road.

I give them some fruit or bread which they receive gratefully, and has cost me almost nothing, and I mutter a prayer on my way into the compound as I knock loudly on the high grey gate with tangled barbed wire along the top, waiting for the guard who will let me in.

I am painfully aware that my feeble offering is far from enough, practically laughable in the face of their extreme circumstances; in comparison my life is unimaginably luxurious, I walk and operate in a world designed around ease and safety.

I am caught up in the embarrassment and guilt, and a troubling self-realisation of my struggle, unwilling and unable to act as I believe I should.

It would be so much easier…

As I walk towards my home, a place of peace and predictability with lilies and white roses in a flowerbed bordering the outside, I am left merely with a faltering cry of Come Lord Jesus, but words spoken with a full stomach and from a feeling of security are unable to anchor; such a desperate prayer does not belong to me.

It would be so much easier not to see them every day, to create structures and rhythms that allow me to live in a false reality that denies the existence of wretchedness and misery.

It would be easier to not to look at their faces when I give them something, or to not ask their name – anything to create a more of a distance. It would be easier to forget them.

Because the girl with the badly burnt face still sits on the street day after day, with one eye that I’m not sure she can even close, staring at me as I bend down with a gift of a banana and – just for a whisper of a second – step into her desolation.

And now that baby has learnt to crawl, and he is working on his next milestone which almost certainly he too will conquer on this busy stretch of road where lorries pump out black smoke as they rev their ailing engines to accelerate up the hill.

A cry goes up

Today I walked to the bus, and so many more were lining the pavement, individuals and entire families whose lives are transient – they come and go and this morning sat huddled in the cold and wet under flimsy umbrellas with white cloths laid out to collect coins, while the clouds squeezed out their final remnants of rain to make way for sunshine and with it the possibility of at last warming up.

How long O Lord?

They are not my words to speak, but I voice them because I have seen and heard the desperate cries and the lonely lament from those whose fear and loss of hope is tangible every single day, and who long only to breathe deeply and freely.

These words are spoken for them as I remember the mother whose breasts are sore and full as they grieve the loss of their young baby, again.

I speak them because there are those who can’t eat, whose animals are dying and whose well has dried up – who are watching their children starve.

I plead with the Almighty as I read of the unimaginable horror and listen to friends tell me of massacres of women and children, and poor farmers.

A cry has gone out, her wailing is carried on the wind and you need only to be still to hear it.

Let justice roll

Dark clouds gather over the afternoon, the world becoming prematurely dark. The pressure builds and then at last, the clouds erupt and thick heavy drops of water begin to fall. It soon turns into hail, which jumps and dances off tin roofs. A familiar landscape is transformed into a watery chaos as streams are birthed and rush forth and pools emerge from the now sodden ground. And then, the storm draws to a close, and amid the stillness that settles, a vivid splendour bathes creation. 

Come Lord Jesus.

Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream. Shower, O heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness, let the earth open, that salvation may spring up.

Sing and rejoice O daughter of Zion! For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst.

Amos 5:24 (NIV); Isaiah 45:8 (NRSV); Zechariah 2:10 (NRSV)

How long O Lord?

Related posts

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post How long? appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

In northern Argentina, the church recognises that it still remains divided, reflecting the racial and social splits of wider society.

The divides run largely along urban and rural lines, with indigenous Amerindians, including the Wichi and Toba, being the majority in the rural areas of the vast Chaco region, and Criollos, people of European descent, mainly living in the cities.

“It has to be said that much has been done to overcome it,” says Bishop of Northern Argentina and CMS mission partner Nick Drayson, “but a situation of real equality still feels a long way off.”

There have been centuries of suspicion and hostility on both sides, but local partner Marcos Humacata represents a new generation looking to bridge the gap.

Eye-opening reality

Marcos is an Argentine pastor who leads a team planting a church in the city of Salta, on the edge of the Chaco. When Marcos returned to the area, after his training at the Centre for Pastoral Studies in Santiago, Chile, he felt that it was time to focus on the urban church. Given the long history of church in the Chaco, he was under the impression that there wasn’t much more to do there.

But when he met he met his brothers and sisters in Christ in the Chaco on a visit with Stephen McElhinney, director of SAMS Ireland, Marcos’s perspective began to shift. He realised that they are all part of the same church despite the geographical and cultural gaps between them.

Marcos is now committed to building relationships with indigenous Christians and talks to the urban church about his journeys into rural areas to increase awareness. Others at his church in Salta cover his role while he is away, meaning that Marcos can give 20 per cent of his time to language learning and travelling to indigenous areas for training and ministry.

Risking relationship

When Marcos was invited to join in delivering training for leaders in the indigenous church, he was fearful: asking “will people understand?”, particularly as he doesn’t speak the Wichi language. Yet having participated, he notes, “I rely on my identity in Jesus, not my abilities. Through this training I have become more motivated and enriched with a wider vision and faith. I’ve been helped to have a bigger picture – and I can take that back to the church plant in Salta.”

A major challenge for Marcos is language – he is learning Wichi, but can’t yet deliver training in the language. “When I speak and train in Spanish, it shows a lack of respect for the Wichi, though they are respectful to me. I prepare a worksheet in Wichi to use during the training, but I would like to be able to speak it.”

As a Latino, Marcos has questioned what he has to share with the indigenous church. Yet he has been reminded that, just as in the urban church, “we need people able to share life with love. Jesus shared, ate with and was among people, alongside them – he demonstrated love through his life not just his words.” This means investing time in people, coming alongside them, suffering with them as well as sharing the word of God. He adds, “We need to understand people’s way of life. What are the empty spaces in the heart where Jesus needs to be?”

Gospel is the bridge

Despite his fears, Marcos reports: “I received feedback from Wichi brothers, commenting on how important the training and fellowship time were for them, but even more so seeing how the gospel creates a bridge that unites us despite the differences that may exist.”

“There are many challenges that arise, in the travel distances (sometimes more than eight hours) and learning the language, but I see how our Lord uses this connection to strengthen our ties between the indigenous church and our church here in the city. It encourages us to serve and love each other as brothers in Christ.”

More on this story

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Bridging the gap in Northern Argentina appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

Christians in northern Argentina stand at a crossroads. Indigenous Amerindians have felt their traditional culture destabilised as deforestation continues. Their young people can access more and more of contemporary culture through their mobile phones, yet many of its benefits seem out of reach.

Many young people feel a lack of hope for the future, resulting in alcohol problems and disturbing suicide rates.

So a key task for leaders, explains mission partner Nick Drayson, Primate of the Anglican Province of South America and Bishop of Northern Argentina, is to help their people go deeper into the Word of God, to be excited and encouraged by what they find there as they engage with the hard-hitting realities of day-to-day life.

Thanks in part to CMS supporters, the urgent need to train and equip many more church leaders is being met by a cross-cultural collective.

Journeys to leadership

A team of Wichi leaders, mission partners and Criollos (Argentinians of European descent) lead a four- to five-year programme of training for those preparing for ordained ministry. The trainees are already active in their churches, helping to run services, women’s groups or discipleship courses, and some are lay leaders of their congregations as there is no pastor in their church.

Many have grown up being part of the church, but their journeys to leadership have varied.

One shared his testimony of going far from the Lord, and far from home, and becoming addicted to alcohol. At his lowest point he stumbled into a church and sensed the presence of Jesus calling him to repent – and from that point he has not drunk alcohol again. He returned to his village and became an active church member before training for ministry.

Pandemic pause

Inevitably, as with regular discipleship training and baptism or confirmation classes, running leadership training during the Covid-19 pandemic has been very difficult. Border closures and isolation rules meant people could not travel for training, and here, it’s not a case of simply transferring training online. Too many people lack the necessary technology or even access to a sufficient mobile signal.

Finally, in late 2021, the trainers were able to run a session that had been planned for July 2020. Almost 100 students signed up from 23 congregations, most between 30 and 50 years old, and a third were women. Despite the gap between sessions, 31 (out of 41) students invited after completing three previous years of training were able to continue, and are now half way through their formal training. Other trainees had completed two years of training already.

The trainers work hard to balance three areas of emphasis – character, Bible knowledge and ministerial experience. Mentoring from pastors in the students’ own contexts provides vital reinforcement for their learning.

In another encouraging development, some local churches have arranged their own training workshops. Mission associate Chris Wallis reported, “I participated in a workshop organised by a local church in Alto de la Sierra, covering praying for the sick and the history of the Anglican Church. Members of other Anglican churches in the area also attended. In Potrillo a church recently led sessions on leading a service and lay leaders.”

Opportunities out of limits

During the pandemic, lockdowns in the Chaco area of northern Argentina have been strict, particularly in Formosa province, home to assistant bishop Crisanto Rojas. With the help of his son, Crisanto was able to get a computer with internet, and he took part in Zoom meetings with other bishops and with local committees.

“It has been a hard year,” says Bishop Crisanto, “with a number of older colleagues dying, and conflict between churches that want to continue meeting and others that want to obey the rules. Yet it has been encouraging to see how some younger leaders have made good use of radio and WhatsApp to communicate with more isolated churches and leaders.”

Assistant bishop Mateo Alto lives in an isolated area, and has not able to connect with leaders online or by phone very much. Yet there have been opportunities, he explains: “The lack of meetings due to the pandemic has allowed me to pass lots of time talking to the younger leaders about their responsibilities and what it means to lead God’s church.”

Pray

Please pray for the leadership trainees as they pick up their training programme amid all the current uncertainties of Covid-19. And pray that the example of local churches doing more to equip and train their own people will catch on.

More on this story

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Leaders keep learning in Argentina appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

We are thankful that our people in mission continue working to provide spiritual and material care to those in need.

We encourage you to pause and pray slowly through the Lord’s prayer, as you stand in prayer alongside all who are caught up in the tragedy of war.

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins
as we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom, the power,
and the glory are yours
now and for ever.
Amen.

Please pray

• For an end to war and peace to prevail
• For all who are in fear or suffering
• For safety and continued wisdom for CMS people in mission: Anya, Valery and Alison
• For President Putin to turn from warmongering
• For godly wisdom for all leaders in how to respond

We will be posting updates from our partners here as and when they are available.

Related posts

The post Pray for Ukraine appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

By Suzy Wilson

They lined up behind the wooden and splintered cross, priests from all over the Gambella region and further still, among them those who have understood first hand the meaning of the symbol they walked behind – their lives entwined with the brokenness and beauty that comes as Christ followers, knowing they must walk the narrow way. And as they processed they sang a song of praise, low and loud.

It was the day of the Covid-delayed graduation of the third-year students from St Frumentius’ Theological College in Gambella, Ethiopia. What a gift to at last stand among their family and friends and celebrate them.

During the ceremony I quietly wept as I listened to a much loved Anuak student describe the significance of his experience at the college – of walking with his Nuer brother and sisters across town to ensure them safe passage when for those long, tedious months tensions had been high. He spoke of his mind transformed as these other students of different ethnic groups became his friends; in a region too often marked by animosity and suspicion, it’s hard to comprehend just how significant this is.

I listened to my husband telling these graduates that he was proud of them and loved them, and exhorting them to continue to love each other.

There is almost nothing here in the eyes of the world, only these six students in a remote area of Africa. But in a place scarred by generations of ethnic conflict and deadly expectations of loyalty, they are choosing Jesus first; the seeds are scattered, and that is everything.

I didn’t know we had fallen in love

Watching the graduation, reuniting with friends and students, and clearing out our house was a little more like closure than I had anticipated, and it wasn’t easy – I didn’t prepare myself that it was actually going to feel quite hard. I grieved.

I didn’t know we had fallen in love with this hot and dusty place.

I didn’t know until we arrived and sat outside our house with our Anuak family chatting, laughing, and drinking coffee while the kids dashed around quickly covering themselves in Gambella sand.

I didn’t know until sweet Grace, who had been a new-born baby last time I held her, wandered in and out of our house just as though it was her own.

I didn’t know until we drove through the town and there was vibrancy and life and colour, and as we passed over the mighty Baro river, which in its distinctively lazy yet compelling way dominates the landscape whilst town folk bathe and wash cars and play in its sluggish murky depths.

I didn’t know, because the water here often runs out, and for the week we were there ran brown out of taps.

I wouldn’t have known because it is often difficult and malarial and hot, and there are no easy playmates for our children. But as our visit there drew to an end the kids didn’t want to leave, my daughter suggesting we use the little money she had gathered from the tooth-fairy and various chores to make it possible to stay in Gambella.

Hardship and dying, life and beauty

But we had to go, of course we did; tears fell, carving a way through the dust that had gathered on her face as we drove away from those who had congregated to wish us well, and we made our way back to the airport, back to Addis.

Perhaps she is discovering this secret too, because as I walk and age on this earth I am learning there are no short cuts to beauty, and it looks to me that at its most authentic it can only be appreciated and understood in the fragility of living and the reality of suffering.

Gambella is profoundly marked with hardship and dying, and daily toil. This is true, and it matters. Gambella is also compelling and beautiful, it teems with life and beauty – when I am there it wakes me up, and I see and move and live in a way I don’t experience anywhere else. It draws me in, and I find a freedom.

We now live in Addis, and we are happy here. We live in a compound with space and families, with flowers and trees. If you’re going to live in a huge African city then this is a great way to do so, and we are very grateful.

We are learning Amharic and slowly we’re enjoying meeting others in the neighbourhood that live and work here. The kids and I spend our days homeschooling, reading, playing sport, sitting in little food souks and falteringly trying out our new language. But Gambella is never far from our minds, and will always be a part of our lives. Our time and experience there is imprinted on us, it has moulded us. We want to continue walking with those students who have become friends, we want to continue sitting with our friends who have become family.

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places, indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.

Psalm 16:6

Related stories

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post No short cuts to beauty appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

Church Mission Society’s new director of international mission, Andy Roberts, reflects on relocating from Brazil (where he and his wife founded ReVive, a charity working with vulnerable children) to Britain, making disciples and unlearning colonialism. He shares his hopes for the future for CMS with Naomi Rose Steinberg.

What will be the hardest part about moving to the UK?

The biggest challenge will be for our family: Rose, my wife, is Brazilian. For her and our kids it will be their first extended time away from our Brazilian family. I’ve lived in Brazil for almost half my life. Maybe I’m too Brazilian now for British tastes?

Why not stay in Brazil?

With ReVive, we’ve been lucky to pioneer something that God placed in our hearts. It might be comfortable to stay. But it’s time to pass things to local leadership, which I’m passionate about. And to take on this fantastic role. Even though CMS is 200+ years old, it feels as if something new is happening: with our founding principles in mind, we’re entering a new stage of pioneering.

Speaking of local leadership, in your experience, is there a good model/formula for partnership between Westerners and non-Westerners in mission?

We didn’t follow a model, though we’ve seen firsthand what not to do: how ministries can be starved of life by a foreign missionary holding onto control when there are local leaders waiting and willing to take things on.

So I wouldn’t say there’s a blueprint, but the foreign missionary has to be willing to share leadership and responsibility. Mission is an interchange.

Are you concerned that you’ve imported a Western model into Brazil?

When I first came to Brazil at age 18 I had a white saviour mentality. I remember thinking basically, “These Brazilians are so blessed because I’m coming.” But I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t know the culture.

I soon realised I had much to learn, from the street kids and from the local church. Though in material poverty, they were spiritually richer than I was. Coming back to the UK after six months, I was broken.

For my next outing to Brazil, I was ready to learn. And I’d met Rose and she helped me. She’d say, “That doesn’t work here, that’s not how you speak to people, that’s not how you run meetings.”

I learned organically. And our ministry developed in a less colonial way I hope. But of course, it’s a challenge to evaluate this impartially.

You were young on that first trip, but you aren’t exactly old now. Will this be an advantage or disadvantage in this new job?

I am very aware of my youth and my whiteness. I think we’re moving away from assuming leaders should be older, white, British, male. I am British, but I hope to come with a Latino heart and youthful enthusiasm, including enthusiasm for combatting colonial tendencies that still exist despite great efforts to move past them.

For example, there’s increasing focus on working with local partners; we need to ensure this isn’t just rhetoric, that we are truly listening to our global family. I’m hoping my experience of learning to be guest, not host, will translate on a larger scale.

Not to be too provocative, but if, after decades of trying to be less colonial, it’s still a struggle, should we stop sending Westerners?

I think God calls people overseas and as disciples of Jesus we should be involved in global and local mission. But I recently read about a UK pastor who spent three weeks in India teaching people how to preach. I thought, “What does he know about preaching in an Indian context?” So, we must ask, what is the nature of our involvement? Are we coming from a place where we truly believe God is already at work in another context?

You used the word “disciple”. How much do you think of your role as disciple-making and how can you tell if someone is a disciple?

I think everything we do in mission is ultimately about making and building disciples. A disciple loves and follows Jesus and is making more disciples.

And I’d go a step further – a disciple is someone who’s involved in God’s mission. You cannot be a follower of Jesus without understanding that you’re called to mission.

When you look at the global picture, what are some key trends affecting mission?

Most foreign missionaries are being sent to nations with a strong Christian presence. Fewer people are going to where it’s harder to be a Christian. CMS is sensing a call to partner with people in spaces with minimal Christian presence.

Also, as technology becomes ever more universal, I’m inspired by digital opportunities. I also feel the continuing pull to unlearn colonialism.

The Bible doesn’t say God so loved the world that he sent money or signed a contract – he sent himself. So going back to your question, should we still send people – Jesus sent himself. So we need to do likewise. But the Bible says Jesus emptied himself – we must walk in humility as we go.

Pray

Pray for Andy in his new role and for him, Rose and the children as they settle into their new home.

Related stories

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Back for the future appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

One mission partner reflects on his journey into mission, and how God has used Church Mission Society walking alongside him in remote and challenging contexts.

By M in Africa

Crying out for guidance

As a teenager I was disillusioned with a school that pushed me towards academic success and money-oriented careers. I moved to an agricultural college as I loved the outdoors, but this didn’t satisfy me either.

I was crying out for guidance and had a profound experience of knowing God’s presence with me for myself. As I began seeking my way in life, someone lent me a book called Bruchko, about a teenager who followed God’s call to work with tribal people in the jungle. He went alone, got attacked and shot with an arrow by the very tribe he was looking for, and then eventually was adopted as one of them. Once he had learned their language, he was able to reinterpret their mythology in the light of Jesus, and many followed the Good News. I’d never heard the term “mission”, but I remember a strong sense of God telling me, “Go and live like this.” I was ready to get on a plane the very next day!

Jesus loves all people

I began doing short-term trips with my church to run summer camps in the former Soviet Union. Then I began to travel to remote lands such as Siberia, Mongolia, even Timbuktu! I wanted to find out how the gospel is applicable to nomadic and remote peoples, and to learn from those who were trying to reach them. Traditional models of church buildings and weekly services simply don’t work when the people are nomadic, but I knew that Jesus loves all people.

Africa didn’t particularly interest me because of the heat and mosquitoes, but at the invitation of an African friend (who grew up as a nomad in the Sahara) I went to visit. I ended up working in West Africa among a nomadic desert tribe for over 12 years. I loved sitting around the campfire as the stars came out, telling stories from the Bible in their language. My heart is still there, but terrorism and kidnapping threats make it impossible to visit my friends in those nomad camps.

Walking a fine line

Now my wife and I work with a tribe of mountain people in another part of Africa. It’s a very restricted country so we have to be creative in how we live. We have a company taking tourists into the mountains.

This gives us the freedom to be in villages, to share God’s love with locals and especially to pray for them. No one from this region has ever refused us praying peace and blessing for them in Jesus’ name.

We are always walking a fine line between being ambassadors of the coming Kingdom and living in a country where open Christian witness is not allowed.

We want to communicate God’s presence and love while avoiding misunderstanding. We strive to be peacemakers, bringing the gift of peace and forgiveness Jesus offers.

It’s hard sometimes to see much fruit, as society is such a strong influence. People don’t have the freedom to think beyond what family and community require them to be. We have found that prayer opens the door and enables people to discover God working in their own lives, beyond our words or stumbling apologetics!

Sustained for a lifetime

As we enter mid-life, with kids in tow, we face very different challenges. CMS has the experience and capacity to help sustain us on the field for a lifetime of ministry. Through their rigorous selection process and training, we have felt reaffirmed in the call of God on our lives. For me, it’s 20 years since I first began to follow God’s call, so it’s been great to be examined and affirmed in this way.

CMS brings expertise in financial planning and thinking through long-term issues, something I was never very good at on my own. They have been good at raising our profile and at annually reviewing our work so that we can be equipped and thriving.

We appreciate the breadth of experience CMS brings. They have been a huge help in the practicalities of family life on the field. We know they have robust systems of debriefing and counselling, should we need them.

When we left West Africa (before joining CMS), I really struggled during that time of loss and difficulty and went through a “dark night of the soul”.

No longer isolated

I know that CMS has “got my back” to help us survive and thrive. They are very professional and quick to help out with our needs.

Recently I was talking with my field leader about the challenges of balancing family life, working from home and ministry. He quickly found someone with similar experience, who was willing to talk with me and counsel me through these issues. I don’t have to feel as isolated as I used to.

CMS has also put us in touch with more churches and networks of praying people, which makes us feel upheld during the difficulties we go through.

God is at work in remote parts of the earth and it’s a privilege to be a part of what he is doing. I am grateful to CMS for the partnership that enables me and my family to be sustained and effective here!

Called to serve?

If you sense God calling you to “go” in his mission, get in touch with our recruitment team on vro@churchmissionsociety.org

Related stories

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Walking together in mission appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

Inspired by the example of Christians in Kenya, Steve Burgess spent a working life in service to the biblical call to “proclaim good news to the poor”. He retired at the end of September as CMS regional manager for Africa, nearly four decades after his journey with Church Mission Society began…

Steve’s first taste of Africa as a young man was doing voluntary work in Tanzania and Malawi during his holidays from the National College of Agricultural Engineering, and he volunteered in Kenya after finishing his degree.

Later he joined an Anglican diocesan team there, although he wasn’t a Christian at the time. Through working alongside Kenyan Christians and learning about Jesus through their actions as well as their words, Steve says, “eventually I just said yes to Jesus.”

Despite this, Steve was confident he wasn’t going to be a missionary. He returned home to the UK, where he met someone very interesting: an Australian named Cathy.

Called to proclaim the good news

Steve was seeking God’s will for his life.

“One day Isaiah 61 was read at a conference, and it spoke to me: ‘The spirit of the Lord is upon me, and he has sent me to proclaim the good news to the poor…’ and I just said, ‘Well, God, how am I going to do that?’”

Steve felt God was calling him to continue working with people in Africa, and approached CMS. They told him to go and figure things out with Cathy first, so Steve went to Australia.

“When Cathy and I were thinking about getting married, I said, ‘Well, if you get married to me, we’re going to Africa.’ She said, ‘Okay.’” They got married, came back to the UK and applied to CMS together.

Jumping into mission together

When Cathy, Steve and their first child arrived in Kenya in 1987, the house they had been promised was just four posts in the ground.

When they moved into their half-finished house seven months later, the bath was still on the veranda, but Steve talks about it like it was the best days of his life. What really mattered was being there and being able to work with local people.

Steve’s role was to support the Diocese of Mount Kenya East’s community development programme, through irrigation and water management and agriculture.

Cathy would focus on childcare initially, and be part of the lively, multicultural women’s fellowship.

Based in Isiolo, in the middle of Kenya, they were at the end of the tarmacked road.

“It was a gateway to places where people lived nomadic lives. A lot of people didn’t know Jesus, a lot of people were struggling to survive.

“At that time, one side of Isiolo was Christian and the other side was Muslim. So it was a really interesting place to be. I just loved it.

“I loved northern Kenya and engaging in grassroots development work there together with the Anglican Church.”

From Isiolo to Eldoret to the UK

The family spent six years in two different contexts within the same diocese, and welcomed two more children during that time.

In 1994, they moved to the Diocese of Eldoret. At the top of Steve’s new job description were some very familiar verses: Isaiah 61:1–2, echoing God’s calling on his life in this role, too.

While Steve worked with an integrated rural development programme, providing support on water and irrigation and hygiene and sanitation programmes, Cathy developed a role coordinating the Theological Education by Extension programme in the diocese, helping Christian leaders in remote rural places to study the Bible and theology.

After 10 years in the Diocese of Eldoret, they returned to the UK in 2005 and finished as mission partners.

Steve joined the CMS office team as a regional manager for mid-Africa, and found that Luke 4:18–19 was a key passage, echoing Isaiah 61:1–2 again.

A shift to indigenous mission

Part of Steve’s role as regional manager for Africa has been to support the vision of CMS-Africa.

CMS was very well known in Africa, having established the Anglican Church there, built schools and hospitals and sent many, many missionaries.

Nevertheless, CMS had always had a vision for decentralisation and indigenous expressions of mission. So, in 2008, CMS-Africa came into being as an autonomous organisation.

Where possible when visiting dioceses, bishops and church organisations in Africa, Steve did so with colleagues from CMS-Africa, to build stronger relationships.

Along with seeing CMS-Africa take the reins, Steve has really enjoyed connecting with and encouraging people in what God has called them to do – whether training artisans in Kenya to build water tanks or, more recently, facilitating people from the UK making their own contributions to mission in Africa.

He has particularly valued visiting people in mission: “They are just an amazing bunch of people.”

A final word

Poignantly, the CMS UK staff Bible passage for 2021 includes Luke 4:18, an echo of Isaiah 61:1–2, which Steve says he will take into whatever God has for him next.

So, what would Steve like to see happen in mission in Africa over the next 10, 20, 30 years?

“For people to know Jesus. I mean, it’s that simple, isn’t it? I think we’ve got to keep Jesus at the centre of what we do. But in doing so, engaging as equal partners, each contributing their gifts and skills to God’s mission and learning from each other.”

Related stories

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post Thirty-eight years of proclaiming the good news in Africa appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).

This year marks half a century of serving God’s mission in Latin America for Bishop Nick Drayson, who has recently been elected Primate of the Anglican Church of South America. We asked him to reflect on his learning and hopes that one era is ending…

50 years ago, you set off following a call to serve God “full-time in Latin America”. You stand here now, about to return to Argentina as the Primate, or leader of the Anglican church in that region. How does that feel?

Well, when I boarded the Greyhound bus in New York, as a skinny 18 year-old heading for Mexico, little did I imagine that I would be where I am now, which is a great challenge and privilege. Of the last 50 years, I have physically spent about half of that time in Latin America, mainly in Argentina, but with frequent visits to almost every country in the region. For a couple of longish spells, I worked in Europe (Spain and UK) but always with Latin America very much in the back, if not the front, of my mind.

Looking back on such a variety of experiences, what has it been like, and what have you learnt?

I think I could sum up the whole time in two ways: enjoyment and endurance. I have always really found a sense of joy in the variety of cultures and languages in Latin America. My first assignment in Argentina was to help with the translation of the New Testament into Chorote, a language spoken on and near the river Pilcomayo. It is wonderful to grapple with the relationship between very different worldviews as described in the Scriptures and in an indigenous language in the semi-arid tropical Chaco forest.

It goes without saying that there is great soccer, food and drink, music, literature and scenery to enjoy, not to mention the inspiring friendship of the people. I feel I owe a debt of gratitude to God for calling me to serve here, but also to the people for giving me so much.

I learnt so much about discipleship from the inductive Bible studies held on the university campus, from the response to revolutionary ferment in the cities, from the solidarity with the rights of Amerindian peoples to the land, and from the church planters and evangelists who ministered boldly in the power of the Holy Spirit.

It has been a formative privilege to work alongside both missionaries and nationals in the formation of local leadership, and developing appropriate strategies for different contexts in which to live out the gospel.

But together with enjoyment, there has always been a sense of endurance. Extremes of weather, both hot and cold, mud, dust, endless journeys, usually with complications! Much of the beauty is accompanied by a sense of harshness. Seemingly endless meetings, and complicated relationships. In many ways the key quality of the successful missionary is keeping going!

Presumably it has not all been pleasant. What have been the biggest challenges?

I could talk about corruption and creativity. Involvement for many years with Amerindian communities has shown me the senseless hostility that so often exists between ethnic groups. While the gospel brought peace and dignity to the often down-trodden poor, it has also spawned resistance to the oppression and injustice. And these are widespread and cruel, particularly affecting the Amerindians. Corruption also affects many other parts of society, causing great hardship, and often spectacular levels of violence, such as those caused by the drug cartels, or by a series of dictatorships. One of the most infamous of these caused the forced disappearance of thousands of people, and was only overthrown in the wake of the tragic Malvinas conflict.

So, cruelty and unfairness are often very close to the surface. But at the same time, people’s readiness to improvise and cope is legendary, and this has often been the case with church communities. The Catholic church in some countries has completely reinvented itself, producing Base Ecclesial Communities, and a preferential option for the poor, whilst Pentecostal congregations large and small have proliferated, producing some very dynamic leaders. Both of these have been players in social change.

And as you return, after this extended time under lockdown in UK, what are your hopes for the future of the church in the region?

I would like to say farewell to dependence and division. The Anglican church is still very small. Despite significant growth and inventiveness over the years, it has also struggled to produce, train and keep good national leaders. Some of this is due to models of support and leadership which have been difficult to sustain and pass on. There is also rivalry, and unhelpful theologies and ideologies in some of the stronger denominations, which are bound to influence our people.

I would like to see a new generation of transparent, humble and God-fearing men and women, who will build on our wonderful heritage, and discover and develop appropriate ways of doing leadership, training and administration for the new sort of Latin America that is emerging from this pandemic.

You recently said you would like to be the “last English bishop”…

Yes. Since Waite Stirling was appointed 150 years ago as the first Anglican bishop (for the whole of South America) the region known as the Southern Cone has had a series of more than 20 excellent missionary bishops, nearly all British. In recent years a few national bishops have been appointed, some of whom have not continued in their ministry. Today there are many more nationals than missionaries, and I would love to be the last of a line, so that the Latin American church is led by Latin Americans – and of course Amerindians.

Related stories

Get our email newsletter:

SIGN UP

The post The Last English Bishop? appeared first on Church Mission Society (CMS).