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The Great Commission
Hope for a recovering suburbanite
By Frank Decker

I admit it. I am a child of the American suburbs. I grew up inside the Washington beltway and, despite the fact that I have subsequently lived in an urban setting in the United States and also in a "two-thirds world" country, I am still a white boy from the suburbs. However, some recent events in my life have reminded me that there are lingering channels through which my thoughts run-a "default setting" in the computer between my ears-which, if they remain unchecked, will hinder me from seeing others as Jesus sees them. Unexpectedly, it was a brief encounter with a homeless man that served up this indelible reminder.

My oldest daughter recently graduated from a university in downtown Atlanta. After the ceremony, we walked to a nearby park to take family photographs with the proud graduate in her honor sash, cap, and gown. As we approached the fountain at the center of the park, I remembered that this picturesque setting was also the abode of several homeless men. I began to wonder if our presence would be welcome. Perhaps, instead, we would be greeted with resentment or even hostility, and our visit would be seen as intrusive or ostentatious. I don't think I was fearful, although that is a common emotion for visitors to certain parts of the city. I was more concerned about the propriety of taking photographs emblematic of success in the presence of those who were struggling to climb just a few inches above the bottom rung of society's economic ladder. 

We suburbanites often don't know how to act when we are among persons in dire material circumstances. We may feel uncomfortable when the brass offering plate does not separate our two worlds. Many times when I find myself awkwardly "doing something" to help another person, I wonder if my motive was out of a sense of discomfort and obligation, or because I truly was allowing Jesus to love that person through me.

Whether we are from suburbia, a small town, or the city, preparation to serve others not only includes learning, it also should require "unlearning" some of our assumptions about those who are different from us. That's one reason why The Mission Society recently conducted its missionary orientation training in Brazil-the first time this event has been held outside of the United States. "In preparing for cross-cultural ministry, there is great value in encountering people in a cultural setting that is very different from the trainees' culture," says Dr. Darrell Whiteman, who directs The Mission Society's training program. In addition to the multi-cultural element of having trainees and instructors from both cultures, several forays into economically-distressed neighborhoods (favelas) also took place as part of the training. Whiteman continues, "The favelas we visited were a mixture of poverty and hope, of sin and salvation. We wanted our missionaries-in-training to see, feel, and  smell the cultural differences, for this is a much more powerful way to learn than simply acquiring information about cultural differences. This is one reason we went to Brazil and experienced the favelas of Rio de Janeiro."

These visits were conducted in small groups and were usually led by a member of a local Methodist church serving that particular favela. This gave us a glimpse into how "those who live there" did incarnational ministry. At one point, as we were waved past an unofficial checkpoint manned by an armed guard who represented the gang leader of that area, it was apparent that the pastor had developed a rapport with the local gang and was engaged in ongoing witness. When we took the posture of quiet learners rather than "hi-impact doers," it made the difference in our reception as welcome visitors to this community.

I think that the uneasiness we often experience when we are around those in great need can be somewhat assuaged when we begin to see them not as targets of ministry, but as people; people who have the same desires for their lives and their childrens' lives as do we; people whom Jesus loves as much as he loves us. When this happens (and I don't think it happens as easily or naturally as one might assume), it is the start of a much healthier foundation for ministry-one that is based on a mutual "let's discover God together in this situation," rather than the inherently condescending perspective fomented by a "here, let me help you" attitude.

And back at that park in Atlanta when I was worried about whether or not we should take photographs of the successful graduate among these needy people, all of my self-absorbed thoughts dissipated in an incredibly poignant moment; a moment when an older homeless gentleman who was sitting on a piece of cardboard looked up at my daughter and simply said, "Congratulations, young lady." No anger. No jealousy. No resentment emanated from him. Just a soft, earnest expression of love and appreciation.

At that moment my underlying sense of obligation evaporated, and I was freed from the barriers that I had brought with me.



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