A few days ago, Wesley posted this comment which was addressed to Brian. Brian, I apologize I haven't read all your postings here. Help me out. What do you feel toward those who have hurt you? Wesley, this is such a good question. Brian has given you his response. I want to respond as well and explain to you how I feel. My answer has gotten too long to comfortably fit in the comment section, so I have decided to post it as an article. Some people who come to this website perceive a lot of "bitterness." They assume that this "bitterness" is unhealthy and dangerous and lies at the root of the broken relationships between our members and former members. They see the "bitterness" as our moral failure. I don't accept that point of view. I have thought long and hard about this. I have searched the Bible for answers. I have prayed and cried out to God. I have studied theology, missiology and cross-cultural understanding. I have searched my heart and delved into my own darkness. I have gone to Christian therapy to see my way through the emotions of the past few years, emotions that may appear to be surfacing now but have been with me for a very long time. And I am now convinced that this "bitterness" is not our moral failure. One book that has helped me to make sense of this is "Strange Virtues: Ethics in a Multicultural World" by Bernard Adeney. This was one of the recommended readings prior to the February 2010 North American UBF staff conference. We never discussed the book. I suspect that very few of our missionaries read it. But I have read the book very carefully and have returned to it many times since then. I read this book from an unusual perspective: not as a Western missionary, but as a recipient of efforts by missionaries from the East. I find that I do not identify with the missionary, the stranger who enters the foreign mission field. I identify with the natives. Let me explain. Adeney was born in Shaghai, China and raised in a missionary family. He has lifelong calling has been to study, from Asian and American perspectives, the difficulties and misunderstandings that arise in cross-cultural missionary activity. The historic failures of Western missionaries have brought deep clarity and insight to Adeney and other scholars of mission. This hard-won insight is that the goal of the missionary, a stranger in a foreign land, is above all to build friendships of mutual trust and long-term commitment in which the gospel brings new life to "both" parties. Adeney writes (p. 29): When we enter another culture, whether across town or across the ocean, we enter as strangers Even after many years of living in another culture we remain as strangers. The first role of the stranger is not to teach, give and to serve. It is to learn, to receive, and to be served by the host. Only when these first tasks are mastered to the host's satisfaction does the stranger earn the privilege of being allowed to criticize and exert influence over the host's culture. Missionary work is not the act of one person giving the gospel to another. Missonary work happens as a mutual cross-cultural relationship develops where the rules of hospitality between stranger and host are not violated. Over time, new understanding of the gospel emerges and transforms all parties. Adeney calls this process "incorporation". Incorporation is a level of unity in which the stranger and the host never change roles, but operate in mutual edification. He writes (p. 136): An ideal goal... is incorporation. A stranger is incorporated when she or he is fully accepted and integrated into the culture. Both sides have made a long-term commitment to the other which will not be terminated even if the stranger leaves. When you are incorporated, you have internalized the culture to the extent that it has become part of you. Incorporation does not occur at the initiative of the stranger. It is an act of the host to make the stranger a real part of the family. The closest analogy may be adoption. But it is also like marriage in that both parties make a commitment to each other. Adney also warns that the stranger must always remember that it is the natives who must adopt him into their family, not the other way around.. In the passage below, Adeney refers to Anthony Gittens, another favorite author of mine (p. 136): As in adoption, a person who has been welcomed into a new family does not ever become structurally equal with his new "parents." The new culture may become family, but it will also remain your host, at least for a very long time. As an incorporated foreigner, you remain a quest, structurally subordinate to your hosts. Gittens suggests that if strangers are unwilling to accept this and how it in their attitudes, they are unlikely to be incorporated into the culture. And then Adney includes this quote from Gittens (p. 136): Acceptance by the host is no "carte blanch" for the stranger to forget the precedence due to the other....If the stranger wishes to remain "free" and not be beholden to the host, then incorporation is not desirable; but where incorporation does take place, then "noblesse oblige" [requires] the guest to defer to the host and be loyal rather than critical... If we sense that we are incorporated into a group, do we thereby acknowledge our responsibility to support and be loyal to our hosts? Or do we retain the "right" to criticize and judge others, thus effectively making it undesirable for us to seek incorporation? And what of our hosts; do we appreciate the relative slowness in accepting us fully? Do we understand how seriously they take the duties of hospitality? Can we accept that they remain superordinate, since we are on their turf and not our own? And do we nevertheless aspire to learning how to be appropriate strangers, or do we with to repudiate the conventions and seize intitiative and control?" The stranger must always tread carefully, never forgetting that he is the stranger (p. 132): Gittens asks "Do we show adequate and genuine deference to our hosts? Do we willingly acknowledge their authority in the situation, and their rights and duties as hosts? Do we allow ourselves to be adequately positioned as strangers, according to the legitimate needs of the hosts? Or do we try to seize initiatives, show them clearly what our expectations are, make demands on them, and thus effectively refuse the role of stranger, thereby impeding them from being adequate hosts?" Adeney believes that this strangeness, when properly embraced and understood, is a gift. This gift will be missed, however, if the missionaries refuse to submit to their hosts and continually turn to one another for validation and insight. The result of this can only be a reinforcement of cultural bias that will sabotage the whole enterprise. If the missionary doesn't fully embrace the role of a stranger, it will reap profound, unintended, negative consequences. The missionary must guard the autonomy and uniqueness of the host and give him precedence. If he does, miracles happen (p. 141): This may be one of the highest aims for which we were created. Each person, and each culture, has a unique secret. Each is capable of knowing something of God which no one else knows. In the meeting of strangers we have the opportunity to share that treasure with each other. For years, I tried to become part of the UBF family, but have never really succeeded. "I have always felt like the stranger trying to learn and adapt to a foreign family." I have rarely, if ever, been allowed to serve as the host. For years, I thought that my inability to fit in was a personal failure I needed to own. But now I am realizing that this has been the failure of the entire UBF paradigm from the start. In fact, I am now convinced that it was really not necessary for me to be made part of this family at all. Rather, "it was the missionaries who should have become part of my family. " Without a doubt, we Westerners in UBF have been blessed by the "strangeness" of our Korean missionaries. I don't deny this and I remain thankful for their efforts to serve. But there is something going on in me and in many others that makes it impossible for us to be content and silent right now. We feel compelled, Wesley, to express other emotions which under the present circumstances are appropriate and valid. As a young and troubled college student, I didn't know any of this. I had problems in my birth family which made me vulnerable to the influence of others. However, as time went on and as I matured, I have come to love and respect my parents and siblings. I have seen their genuine faith and soul searching. I now deeply regret that I had unnecessarily cut my relationship with my Christian family for so many years, because I was expected to put my UBF "family" first. I have also struggled with my identity. The chaos of American culture in the past few decades had affected me deeply. Rather than learning to navigate the tidal waves of change, I was encouraged to remove myself and adopt a new and strange identity in UBF. The influence and pressure was profound and affected every area of my life: my hairstyle, my clothing, how I married, how I raised my children, and so on. I tried to suppress my true identity as an American. But that identity was real and it resurfaced. Jesus wants me to be authentic. How does it feel now to realize all of this? Well, it is very painful. At times, I feel angry for having unnecessarily given up so much of myself. But I also feel liberated and more alive in Christ than ever. For so many years, I was told to be "mission-centered" and to not get involved in "civilian affairs." Those civilian affairs were broadly and unwisely defined as almost any activity outside of UBF. As a result, I lived as an alien and stranger "in my own Christian community". I had no time for my neighbors unless they wanted Bible study. " My UBF "family" was extremely demanding of my time and energy and it is because of them that I became unnecessarily isolated. Now that I am realizing all that I have missed, how do you think I feel? As I began to mature and recover my own identity, I experienced the life-giving work of Jesus in my heart, and I felt compelled to share it with others. My husband and I were allowed the chance to organize several UBF conferences and to explore our new understanding of gospel and mission. But our identity, our American strangeness, was not welcomed by the UBF "family." In fact, we were removed from positions of influence and leadership. Our friendships were damaged through gossip and rude behavior, by manipulation and control (often in the name of "spiritual authority"). As we tried to speak of truthful things, we have been met almost entirely with silence, platitudes, warnings, and rebukes. Efforts at real conversation have been extremely limited and unsatisfactory. So how do I feel about this? I think you can guess. Rules of intercultural hospitality cannot be broken without consequence. The host cannot be disrespected from the start without consequence. When people are pushed down for too long, they will eventually rebel and assert themselves. I know that I have failed to express myself with the utmost kind of respect that would please the power structures of our Korean-led ministry. I have also broken some rules of hospitality. But I cannot take full responsibility for the state we are in. I believe the onus is now on the real stranger, the missionary, to admit failure, to lay down control, and restore the relationship. Perhaps there are other Americans whose stories are different. But I know that there are many whose stories are similar to mine. After many years trying unsuccessfully to fit into this UBF "family," they are now moving on. They will understand what I mean when I say that I have not been given the respect that a host deserves. They will know the intensity of the emotions of disillusionment and bitterness which must no longer be suppressed but addressed with painful openness and honesty. They will know the strength of my feelings when the guests in our midst still can't acknowledge and address our experience and our desire to be heard. Some of us won't stop speaking about these issues because of an undying hope that a miracle of grace may yet occur. But the miracle won't happen without real dialogue which will be very uncomfortable, messy and "intentional."
