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See also Comment, Walking Together by Rafael Malpica-Padilla    

May I Introduce...

I'd like to introduce a friend to you.

But before I get to that, a few words about this issue of Lutheran Partners.

We have set aside this issue to help you get to know better some of our international missionaries. The focus is not so much on the individuals per se, as it is on what our colleagues are learning from the people they are living among and serving as ministers of the good news of Jesus Christ.

This issue can only give you a glimpse of what's going on: two descriptive "slices of life" from long-term missionaries working in Africa and South America; "What I Have Learned" stories from short-term workers under the GM2 (Global Mission Two) and volunteer programs in Hong Kong and Indonesia, respectively; and a couple of Companion Synod stories from two pastors and a bishop who traveled to Africa.

I underscore that these are only a few stories among many. Our church has scores of workers, both paid and volunteer, short- and long-term, and lay and ordained who are answering Christ's call to international, cross-cultural work in many and varied ways.

Please read Raphael Malpica-Padilla's perspective on these global mission stories. Raphael is the executive director of Global Mission, ELCA. I'd also like to recognize Anne Basye, a Global Mission staff person, who reviewed these articles and offered helpful suggestions. A colleague, Franklin Ishida, also provided helpful suggestions as I was initially planning this issue. My thanks to all of them.

Back in the mid-1970s and mid-1980s, I had the privilege to work cross-culturally for a few years in both the Republic of the Philippines and Papua New Guinea with an agency involved in linguistics, literacy, and translation. Then, as now, I worked as an editor and writer, overseeing the many facets of editorial work.

But even more so, I was getting to know better my gracious hosts who lived in these nations. I was working there under the permission of the national churches, as well as the governments. They had invited me. In essence, they were the hosts, and I and other expatriates were their guests.

Baru's Story
But now back to my original objective: I'd like to briefly introduce one of these hosts to you. His first name is Baru, a Papua New Guinean.

Haus lotu at the agricultural research station, Eastern Highlands Province, Papua New Guinea (circa 1983). Click to enlarge.

My wife and I lived in the Eastern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea (PNG) in the mid-1980s. Our home was located a couple of miles away from a government-run agricultural research station. The staff of this station were involved in research involving one of PNG's highly regarded exports — the coffee bean.

Located on the grounds of the research station sat a small haus lotu (the Melanesian Pidgin¹ or Tok Pisin word for "church"). It was a congregation associated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Papua New Guinea (ELCPNG). It became our church home for the couple of years we lived in PNG.

The congregation was served by a circuit pastor who came periodically to lead worship, baptize, officiate at communion, and lead weddings. The congregation had been trying to call a pastor who could serve on a more regular basis, but the process proved long and sometimes difficult. Weeks may have passed between visits from the circuit pastor, but the pulpit was never empty. A highly respected local leader, Baru, was often there to speak God's word.

As we got to know the families in this congregation, it was apparent that Baru was one of their chief spiritual leaders. He had been very instrumental in establishing this congregation. Over time, I was able to piece together the elements of the story of how this congregation came to be. Though the details of the story remain somewhat fuzzy (since my use and understanding of Melanesian Pidgin was not without fault and a lot of years have passed), it went something like this:

Originally, Baru's clan had lived in another part of the Highlands. In his younger years, he had been baptized, and committed his life to following Jesus Christ. Sometime after that, he believed that God was asking him to move from the place of his birth and travel to another part of PNG with his family and members of his village. Under Baru's leadership, his people trekked to a beautiful valley in the Eastern Highlands Province, set up homes, began work in a coffee plantation — and last, but not least, started a new haus lotu.

This move was a major undertaking for his people, undergirded by the vision and conviction of this man, Baru, along with his wife, Kei, and others from his village.

I'm not here to say that Baru was his people's "Abraham," who left his "Ur" and found his way to a land God had promised them, but he certainly was one who held the respect of his people, and apparently, whom many people were willing to follow.

I don't think he was ever ordained, but it was obvious that he was approved by his church — as well as those who represented the larger church — to ensure that God's word was heard week in and week out. That was his conviction and passion. If he didn't preach, others, both Papua New Guineans and expatriates (including myself a couple of times) were invited to share from God's word.

After my wife and I left PNG, we exchanged letters with Baru and Kei into the early 1990s. Baru always shared news, especially about his family. He also regularly included something about the congregation. Once he was relating a story about a special worship service the congregation had held. In my mind's eye, I could see him smiling as he wrote that many people were coming to worship.

Plenti manmeri na pikinini ol hamamas long lotu na harim gutnius bilong Jisas Kraist, he wrote. Roughly translated, he was pointing out that "Many were full of joy as they worshipped and heard the good news of Jesus Christ."

I believe that this was what mattered to him most. People, as many as possible, were getting a chance to hear the stories, once again, of Jesus and his love, and through this, experiencing some of that joy which Jesus Christ brings to human life.

Comment
by Rafael Malpica-Padilla
This article appeared in September / October 2007 • Volume 23 • Number 5

Walking Together

The global mission stories that follow give us a taste of how the people of the ELCA practice accompaniment — a way of walking with and working among Christian communities as together we participate in God's mission to the world.

As you read them, you'll notice some new wrinkles in global mission. Mission outside the U.S. is no longer "directed" by North American and European churches; instead, independent, autonomous companion Lutheran churches determine how mission should be done in their context. While the need for long-term mission personnel continues, these churches more frequently request short-term, specialized personnel. Companion Synods relationships and exchanges are becoming more common.

How missionaries are called has also changed. Instead of appointing missionaries, the ELCA recruits, interviews, and deploys candidates in response to requests by companion churches for specialized personnel who can support their ministries in strategic ways.

And while these stories focus on ordained pastors, 70 percent of ELCA missionaries are lay people. Today, companion churches run their own seminaries and provide their own evangelists and pastors. Most ELCA missionary clergy teach at training institutions or serve in international congregations.

All of these writers strove to answer the question, "What have you learned from those you have worked and lived among?" Their fascinating reflections emphasize the most important shift in global mission: from seeing ourselves as senders and our companions as recipients of resources to an understanding of mission as a mutual, God-directed effort in which companions exchange gifts and all of us have much to receive.

Rafael Malpica-Padilla is executive director, ELCA Global Mission, Chicago, Illinois.