Connect to Others (Part 4)
When I first moved to Africa, I wanted to change the world. I thought I knew what missions was about since I had been on nine short term trips which obviously (sarcasm here) must qualify you as somewhat of an expert. Boy was I in for a wake up call.
I quickly learned that short-term missions are about short-term projects; long-term missions are about long-term relationships. My plan had been to come and get stuff done, you know, change the world. I didn’t realize that the realest change happens in the long-suffering work of building authentic relationships.
Here’s how it happened to me. After the honeymoon phase of living in Africa wore off, I found myself waking up in the mornings and staring at the ceiling, having no earthly idea of what I was supposed to be doing that day. I had no plans. I had no 8:00 to 5:00 job. No supervisor setting expectations for me. I had no hobbies (at least not ones that I could do in West Africa), no friends, no idea how to spend my time. I barely had language. So I did the only thing I knew to keep myself from going clinically insane: I started spending time with African people.
I found myself in their work places, then in their homes. I went with them to market, got water with them at the well, prepared and ate dinner with them and their children, and shucked corn with them.
And it changed me from the inside out.
I started to understand these people by living life with them. And I subtly and softly began to love them, not because I knew I was “supposed to” as a missionary, but because when you sow a part of yourself into a relationship and water it with time and cultivate it with prayer, love grows naturally.
And before I knew it, I found myself staying awake until 1:00am (a true sign of love for this early-bedtimer) while crushing shea into butter on the porch of my African friend. With shea oil up to our elbows, we talked about life and Christ and our hearts. Because now I had language. I had friends. I had new hobbies like making shea butter. I had purpose. And it wasn’t found in all those projects with which I had planned to change the world; it was found in those people I had come to love.
In John 15, right along with all this talk about abiding in the Vine, Christ commands us to love others. I used to read it like Jesus took a five minute break between the first and second halves of this passage. Part one: abide in the Vine. Intermission. Now part two: love others. Now I see it all as one cohesive message. Don’t get up to go buy popcorn in the middle of this one. Abiding looks like obeying, and obeying looks like loving.
We all have this human need for connection. We need to connect to God. We need to connect to others. We connect by loving.
You don’t have to go to Africa to learn that, but that’s how it happened to me. And it is because Africans have a unique and wonderful way of living life together in community, and since I did it with them for a minute, I thought you might be interested to hear about some of their secrets.
I quickly learned that short-term missions are about short-term projects; long-term missions are about long-term relationships. My plan had been to come and get stuff done, you know, change the world. I didn’t realize that the realest change happens in the long-suffering work of building authentic relationships.
Here’s how it happened to me. After the honeymoon phase of living in Africa wore off, I found myself waking up in the mornings and staring at the ceiling, having no earthly idea of what I was supposed to be doing that day. I had no plans. I had no 8:00 to 5:00 job. No supervisor setting expectations for me. I had no hobbies (at least not ones that I could do in West Africa), no friends, no idea how to spend my time. I barely had language. So I did the only thing I knew to keep myself from going clinically insane: I started spending time with African people.
I found myself in their work places, then in their homes. I went with them to market, got water with them at the well, prepared and ate dinner with them and their children, and shucked corn with them.
And it changed me from the inside out.
I started to understand these people by living life with them. And I subtly and softly began to love them, not because I knew I was “supposed to” as a missionary, but because when you sow a part of yourself into a relationship and water it with time and cultivate it with prayer, love grows naturally.
And before I knew it, I found myself staying awake until 1:00am (a true sign of love for this early-bedtimer) while crushing shea into butter on the porch of my African friend. With shea oil up to our elbows, we talked about life and Christ and our hearts. Because now I had language. I had friends. I had new hobbies like making shea butter. I had purpose. And it wasn’t found in all those projects with which I had planned to change the world; it was found in those people I had come to love.
In John 15, right along with all this talk about abiding in the Vine, Christ commands us to love others. I used to read it like Jesus took a five minute break between the first and second halves of this passage. Part one: abide in the Vine. Intermission. Now part two: love others. Now I see it all as one cohesive message. Don’t get up to go buy popcorn in the middle of this one. Abiding looks like obeying, and obeying looks like loving.
We all have this human need for connection. We need to connect to God. We need to connect to others. We connect by loving.
You don’t have to go to Africa to learn that, but that’s how it happened to me. And it is because Africans have a unique and wonderful way of living life together in community, and since I did it with them for a minute, I thought you might be interested to hear about some of their secrets.
- Proximity. My African friends live in very close physical proximity to one another. Their homes are built very close with common courtyards. Life happens in those courtyards — every evening is like a Fourth of July picnic with everyone outside on their porches preparing dinner, sharing with others, hosting visitors, watching out for other people’s kids, and telling the news of the day. When people are at home, they leave their doors open, and anyone and everyone is invited to walk in or out of any open door.
- Time. Westerners view time as if it were always passing, as if we have to make the most of every moment before it is gone. Westerners say there is never enough time; Africans say there is always more time. Time is irrelevant for most activities of daily life. If you don’t get it done today, there is always tomorrow. Africans expect and welcome interruptions as a normal part of daily life. They also spend their time differently — free time is not spent doing activities, but rather in visiting friends. Leisure time is spent going to other people’s homes just to sit and talk with them. Entertainment is listening to today’s stories from your friends, family, and neighbors.
- Presence. Closely related to the concept of time is the concept of presence. The African mentality is that the person in front of you right now is more important than any other task that needs to be done. They will always postpone a task to be present with a person.
- Community. Decisions are made not based on what is best for you, but what is best for the people around you. Ideas and plans are shared and brainstormed in community settings, And everyone has in say in what everyone else is doing or thinking about doing. In this way, every member of the community is valued for what they have to offer, and one person must be willing to receive from all the others before moving on in their decision or direction.
Western culture is obviously quite different from this: instead of proximity, we live spread out with large yards, fences around them, and garage doors that close as soon as we come home from work. Sometimes we drive all the way across town to go to a church in a neighborhood where we don’t know a single person. We are a time-oriented culture, and the ABC’s of our culture are accumulation, business, and comfort. Instead of face to face presence, we connect though social media so that we can maintain busy schedules and still get a sense of (false) connectedness through photos and blurbs. And instead of community-based decision-making, we value individuality, privacy, and whatever is best for me.
Please do not hear me only criticizing American culture and elevating African culture. Africans have a lot to learn from Americans, too. But the point is not which culture is better. The point is that God in great creativity placed pieces of his heart in every culture around the globe, and Africans can teach us Americans a lot about connection and community, and a lot about God.
A lot of people in the U.S. are craving rich community, and unsure of how to actually make it happen. I love to join that conversation because I’ve tasted rich, authentic community in Africa, and I want to bring elements of that right back to America. So how do we do it?
Please do not hear me only criticizing American culture and elevating African culture. Africans have a lot to learn from Americans, too. But the point is not which culture is better. The point is that God in great creativity placed pieces of his heart in every culture around the globe, and Africans can teach us Americans a lot about connection and community, and a lot about God.
A lot of people in the U.S. are craving rich community, and unsure of how to actually make it happen. I love to join that conversation because I’ve tasted rich, authentic community in Africa, and I want to bring elements of that right back to America. So how do we do it?
- Proximity. When you get home, leave your garage up. Leave your door open. Sit on your porch. Walk in your neighborhood. Decrease the space between you and your neighbors. Shop intentionally and consistently in your neighborhood. Get to know the guy the checks you out every Tuesday when you buy groceries, the waitress that brings you drinks every Friday night.
- Time. Nobody has more time than anybody else. We all get 24 hours in a day, we just get to choose how we spend those hours. So make time for what matters. Set aside evenings or weekend hours for walks in the neighborhood to meet your neighbors, visits with friends in their homes, and discipling others.
- Presence. Change the focus from projects and productivity to presence and people. Commit to face to face interactions with your family, friends, neighbors. Take a break from social media. Instead of creeping on their page when you want to know what someone is up to, call them and get together.
- Community. Invite the people around you into your decision making processes. Share ideas and pray with your people about what is going on in your life.
In other words, waffle breakfast. That’s why I tell that story. That’s what closing proximity, creating community, cultivating presence, and giving space and time can look like, and it’s really not hard. It’s just intentional. And its not about bringing Africa to America, its about bringing the kingdom of God to the thirsty places of earth. It’s about bringing broken people together to experience the wholeness of Christ.
“I felt something when I walked in here,” my sister said to me when she walked into my already-stuffed-at-maximum capacity apartment on a Saturday morning. (It’s probably a good thing I don’t know what the fire codes are in my apartment...) Another friend stayed late to wash dishes and said, “Nobody has done anything like this, but it’s what we’ve all been craving.”
Because we crave connection. Connection to God and to others. And Jesus in John 15 teaches us all about what connection looks like. Abide in the vine. Abiding looks like obeying, and obeying looks like loving. Loving looks like proximity, time, presence, and community. Loving doesn’t look like Africa; loving looks like Jesus. It looks like washing feet, leaving the garage door open, getting shea butter up to your elbows at 1:00 am, and sharing waffles on Saturday mornings.
“I felt something when I walked in here,” my sister said to me when she walked into my already-stuffed-at-maximum capacity apartment on a Saturday morning. (It’s probably a good thing I don’t know what the fire codes are in my apartment...) Another friend stayed late to wash dishes and said, “Nobody has done anything like this, but it’s what we’ve all been craving.”
Because we crave connection. Connection to God and to others. And Jesus in John 15 teaches us all about what connection looks like. Abide in the vine. Abiding looks like obeying, and obeying looks like loving. Loving looks like proximity, time, presence, and community. Loving doesn’t look like Africa; loving looks like Jesus. It looks like washing feet, leaving the garage door open, getting shea butter up to your elbows at 1:00 am, and sharing waffles on Saturday mornings.
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