Dear friends, supporters, co-workers and clients of Syzygy,

As you are aware, Syzygy has been slowly closing down over the past few months due to Tim’s ongoing health challenges.  It has been some while since we provided any Member Care.  Many of our assets have been disposed of and we have plans for those that remain.  This website is one of the few remaining manifestations of Syzygy and it will close in the next six weeks.  Until then you are welcome to download anything you feel will be of use to you in the future, and may use it free of charge as long as you credit Syzygy for its use.  We hope this will bless you and those you work with, and that through this the effort we have put into producing these resources will continue to bear fruit.

It might seem a strange time to be blogging about winter, when daffodils are in full bloom and bluebells are shooting up, but the reason will become clear if you read on.

In winter many plants, like this spectacular tree, die back and appear to be lifeless.  But experience tells us they are merely dormant, and will burst into life again in the spring.  Nevertheless, even in the midst of winter the tree is teeming with life.  Ferns, mosses, algae and lichen grow on it, countless small creatures hide in its nooks and birds find shelter and food there.

Sometimes however, the tree dies.  Perhaps it succumbs to old age, or disease, or it gets blown over in the winter storms.  Even then, though it dies, it is not the end of life.  As it decays, fungi will take root in its rotting wood and many insects will feast on it.  As it gradually turns into rich humus it will provide fertile soil for other plants to grow in, and its own seeds will grow up to renew the cycle of life.

In the last couple of years Syzygy has been going through a winter as one by one we’ve had to cut back our services due to the poor health of Tim and others.  It has felt like the leaves have been falling off and all that’s left is to withstand the cold and wait for the new life.  Unfortunately it’s my sad job to tell you that this spring Syzygy won’t be bursting back into life.  In fact, it’s shutting down completely.  The Trustees have decided, with my complete agreement, to formally close Syzygy down and dispose of its assets to other appropriate charities.  We hope to complete this by March 2024.  We’ve already made arrangements to donate all our cars to CMS to serve their mission partners, which is great, but they won’t be available to our former clients in future.

As when a great tree dies, we are saddened by its loss.  But we choose instead to look at all the good fruit: the mission workers we’ve supported, the training and debriefing we’ve carried out, and the role we’ve played over nearly 20 years of helping to develop member care.  We rejoice that in this time mission workers have become (in general) much better facilitated and supported by their churches and agencies. New people are eager to provide this care.  The cycle of life continues…

We’d like to thank everyone who has come with us on this journey by volunteering, praying, funding, promoting, assisting and in every other way helping Syzygy grow and thrive.  Now that it is winding down we hope you will feel (as we do) that it was a worthwhile endeavour and though we have to pass the baton on we have all played our part in a race that is far from over.

It is with great sadness that we have to announce that Syzygy is switching off its car ministry.

After 15 years of delivering cars to locations as diverse as Glasgow, Plymouth and London and supporting well over 100 mission partners in their Home Assignments, because of ongoing health problems in the Syzygy team it is becoming harder to keep the ministry going.  We have already notified everyone who already has confirmed bookings with us.

Rather than simply turn off our engines and walk away, we are talking to a number of different organisations with a view to donating our cars and the associated assets to another ministry wishing to continue to serve mission partners through transport.  We are not yet sure of the timescales involved, but we have asked any potential successor agency to honour the reservations that have already been made with us.  If they can’t, we will continue running the ministry ourselves until all the bookings we have already accepted have been serviced.  But we are not taking any further bookings.

It has been our joy and privilege to pioneer a way of running this ministry with a focus on the needs of the mission workers by personally delivering the cars to wherever they are needed, and dealing with breakdown and repairs ourselves wherever possible.  It has always been our approach to take on this extra effort willingly so that our mission partners have one less concern at an already demanding time for them.

We are very grateful to all our partners who have enabled us to keep this ministry going: those who have donated cars or money to help us have cars that mission partners are pleased to drive, prayed for the safety of our cars and drivers, and also to all those who have delivered our cars and managed the ministry – principally Barry & Kathy who are known and loved by many of our overseas mission partners.

All of us here at Syzygy are saddened at the thought of a big hole left by this ministry, and we are praying that someone else will emerge to take it on for the good of the UK missions community.  Please pray with us that this key support function will continue for many years to come.

Reading an article recently on the Falklands war between England and Argentina, which happened 40 years ago, I noted a quote from Sir Rex Hunt, who was the Governor of the Falkland Islands at the time of the conflict.

He said that for the first year afterwards, the islanders didn’t want to talk about it.  In the second year, they talked about nothing else.  In the third year, they were starting to move on.

It always comes as a surprise to mission workers who have experienced trauma, shock, evacuation or other sudden and unwelcome change, that it can take them so long to move forwards.  Sadly, it comes as no surprise to those whose role it is to help them.  It is the chaos after the storm, when everything needs picking up and rebuilding, but nobody has the energy to decide what to keep and what to throw away, or how to rebuild.

We have talked before about the sense of being stuck between the past and the future, the confusion of having a God-given ministry suddenly terminated, and the contribution that debriefing or other listening therapies can have in this process.

But this can be a very long journey.  People can be reluctant to open up, even to themselves or their families, about how they are feeling.  They may look like they are doing well while falling apart inside, but are just pretending because they think they need to be strong for the rest of the family.  They might be frightened of how badly they might fall apart if they acknowledge their pain, anger or confusion.

Once they have started to process what they’ve been through, they may want to talk about it, particularly with other people who have been through a similar experience, or who know about such troubles.  It may well be a significant comfort to them to know that they are not alone, and it can help them to acknowledge and normalize their feelings.

For most of us going through these challenges, it’s not so neat as Sir Rex makes it look.  It may not happen in that neat order, and we may alternate between different phases.  That can make recovery feel very confusing – yesterday I was doing so well but today I’m a mess again.  And it may well take longer.

The most important thing people around those who are struggling with the fallout from their trauma can do is to be patient with them – a calm, stabilizing force in the midst of the chaos, not minding if we hear the same things over and over again, or if they are reticent and withdrawn with us.  Our quiet acceptance of them is helping.  People forget that there was one thing Job’s comforters got right: they just sat with him in silence for a week, as a gesture of their solidarity and support.  While the subsequent conversation didn’t go as well as specialist debriefs usually do, at least it created a space for God to work it, which is the ultimate goal of any of us supporting the traumatised.

A couple of years ago we blogged about the cumulative impact of successive blows, using a boxer as a metaphor.  It’s often not just one blow that knocks us down, but the aggregate effect of hit after hit over some time.

Mission workers are constantly exposed to such hits, as we deal with visa renewals, theft, support issues, team conflict, security alerts, relocation of close friends and the far away deaths of family members.  The security and health challenges of the last couple of years have piled onto these issues more specific blows and also general background pressure.

So we’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to a new concept – the Stress Bank.  In the same way that a normal bank works – by putting in money when you have it, and taking it out when you need it – the Stress Bank helps you to build and maintain resilience.

In the good times, don’t neglect self-care.  Continue to do little things that will help you maintain your resilience.  Build up good practices of ensuring you take time out, go on holiday, do retreat, and pause to be sure of where God is leading you.  This keeps your acccount with the Stress Bank in credit.

In the bad times, draw on those resources.   Look at photos and remember happy times.  Share memories together.  Open your notebooks and review what God has been saying to you.  this helps you maintain your credit balance even when demands on it are high.

In the same way as you keep a regular eye on your bank balance, make a point of looking at your stress balance.  Be aware of when your balance is low, or even worse, when you get an overdraft.  When you go overdrawn, it’s not necessarily a disaster, and our vocation will often mean many of us are stress overdrawn from time to time.  But an overdraft can’t go on forever before the debt is called in.

The Stress Bank calls in the overdraft in the form of sickness, both mental and physical.  It demands payment in relationship breakdown and moral failure.  The lives of your loved ones will be affected, your ministry may crumble and much of what you have achieved can be destroyed.  So don’t run an overdraft for long!

When you are aware of an overdraft situation, take stock.  Do what you can to limit outgoings by cutting activities that drain you.  Try to make small deposits into the stress bank by doing things that replenish your joy, like having coffee with a friend, or going swimming.  It doesn’t have to be a week’s holiday – sometimes taking the time out can be even more stressful!  Just half an hour of happy time every now and then can make a world of difference to your resilience.

And remember, when the overdraft is finally paid off, don’t take on something new that will immediately put you back into debt.  Build up a credit balance first.

If you’d like to speak to a stress debt adviser, email us on info@syzygy.org.uk.  We’ll be happy to help you get your stress levels back into credit!

 

We don’t often blog about the Syzygy cars but many mission partners worldwide will know about them.  Our four cars are always busy on the British roads supporting them in their deputation, helping them visit family, friends and supporting churches while on home assignment in the UK

The reason for today’s blog is to launch our appeal to buy a new car to replace one of our older cars, which is still going well but approaching the age when a lot of work is needing to be done on it.  We like to keep our cars in good condition so they don’t break down on our mission partners.

This year, in conjunction with Tim’s 60th birthday on Monday, we’re hoping to raise £1000 from our supporters to get our fundraising for this year off to a good start.  Please give generously at facebook.com/donate/1087591448755163/

You can read more about the Syzygy cars here.

 

Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash

One of the liturgies I regularly use features the imagery of the ‘shadow of God’s wings’.

I don’t know if you’ve ever thought of God as having wings, but it’s not an uncommon reference in the Old Testament.  Perhaps the writers envisaged God as looking like an angel, which do have wings in popular imagination, or possibly one of those winged lion statues like one sees in museums.  Of course, it’s all anthropomorphism anyway since God may not have a visible presence at all, or can self-manifest in whatever way He wills.

Reference to God’s wings is usually linked to protection, such as a bird sheltering its chicks under its wings (Psalm 91:4, Matthew 23:37), or to God carrying his children as if on wings (Exodus 19:4, Deuteronomy 32:11).  But most of the verses refer to the shadow of the wings, as if snuggling close to God for safety in time of danger.  Four of these references occur in Psalms of David, with a fifth using the closely-linked concept shelter:

Ps 17:8 – hide me in the shadow of Your wings

Ps 36:7 – And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings

Ps 57:1 – in the shadow of Your wings I will take refuge until destruction passes by.

Ps 61:4 – let me take refuge in the shelter of Your wings

Ps 63:7 – For You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.

It will benefit us to study the Hebrew word translated as wings.  It is ‘kanaph’, which can literally mean wings, with particular reference to the covering or protection they afford rather than flight.  The word can also be translated end, as in ‘the ends of the earth’ (Job 37:3) or corners, as in ‘the four corners of the earth’ (Isaiah 11:12).  It is this sense of corners that is of interest to us, as it is also used in this sense Numbers 15:38 – “they shall make for themselves tassels on the corners of their garments.”

This word is still used in this sense in modern Hebrew to describe the corners of the shawl (‘Tallith’), which men wear when they prayer, to which the knotted tassels connect.  This may explain why a sick woman pushed her way through a crowd simply to touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak in the hope of being healed (Matthew 9:20-22).  She knew the Hebrew scripture which says “The Sun of righteousness will arise with healing in his wings” (Malachi 4:2) and understood the alternative translation which she applied to Jesus.

Given this connection, we are quite justified in translating the verses above as “in the shadow of your corners – perhaps an allusion to a small child running to its father for protection and hugging his leg.  As the father protectively puts his arm round his child, the corner of his cloak covers the child, creating a shadow like a tent for the child to shelter safely in.

Perhaps the Bible writers didn’t imagine God as having wings at all.  Perhaps they imagined God as a strong father protecting his children.

“In the shadow of your cloak, I will sing your praises, O Lord”

 

 

Original photo by Antonio Uquiche on Unsplash

A recent post on a popular member care site asked “What are your policies for dating locals?”  The questioner was wanting to draft a policy for their organisation.

It may come as a surprise to some of our readers but, yes, many mission workers are not allowed control over their emotional lives.  There are policies which may dictate that dating locals is completely out, or banned for their first x number of years.  Mission workers who want to marry a local may be required to resign, and then reapply as a couple.

I have come across cases where this has led to a mission worker becoming abandoned in the field by their agency because their partner wasn’t approved,  but they didn’t want to walk away from their calling.  Or their love.  I’ve also known people leave the mission field to pursue their love.  I know of no other profession in which the employer exercises so much control over the individual’s choice of partner.  Except of course the Roman Catholic Church!

I should imagine that this situation first arose when 150 years ago a white western mission worker married a local and it turned out badly, whether for an agency with a paternalistic attitude towards the locals and which couldn’t accept one of them as an equal, or for the couple who were unable to overcome the cultural barriers between them.  Perhaps the national really was a gold-digger looking for money or a foreign passport.  As a result some bright spark thought it was worth making a rule to ensure this never happened again.

In the 21st century, however, intercultural marriages are commonplace.  Why not in the world of missions?  After all, what better way is there of crossing cultural barriers, being accepted into the local community, learning the language and understanding cultural nuances?

Yes, intercultural marriages face unique challenges due to the widely disparate cultural norms and different expectations of marriage.  Every marriage has its challenges and the intercultural ones more so.  But that doesn’t mean we should ban or discourage them.  Instead we can choose to support or facilitate them.  So we could, for example:

  • Instead of banning dating, give people better cultural-awareness training so they have a fuller understanding of the host culture
  • Offer mentoring, support and encouragement to all who are dating interculturally so that their relationships stand a better chance of thriving
  • Rather than placing restrictions on new arrivals in the mission field, explain the challenges as part of their orientation
  • Provide strong and inclusive community for our single mission workers so that they are better supported
  • Trust our mission partners to be responsible adults.  We trust them to run churches, disciple students, teach Bible college, act as ambassadors for our agencies, but we don’t trust them to date.

While it may be appropriate to place restrictions on short-termers, particularly those who are on a team, where relationship issues can complicate an already intense environment, let’s not add to the social and emotional challenges faced by our single mission partners unnecessarily.  A missionary culture full of intercultural marriages is a wonderful witness to the global nature of the church and a foretaste of heaven (Revelation 7:9).  Let’s build it here on earth!

 

Syzygy is happy to provide support and mentoring for people in intercultural marriages.  If you would like advice, please contact us confidentially on info@syzygy.org.uk or look at some of our marriage tips.

 

Photo by Joel Bengs on Unsplash

Discussion around the re-entry process often centres around ‘attachment’: relinquishing ties to the people, places and projects that the returning mission worker had in their host country so that they – and the people they worked with – can move on; and the intentional cultivation of new connections now that they are back in their passport country.  Such detachment/reattachment can help smooth the lengthy re-entry transition and minimise reverse culture-shock.

Letting go of attachments may be easier if an assignment has been short, unpleasant or unfulfilling, but can be a very significant challenge for those who have had a long, fruitful and fulfilling ministry.  They have to deal with the loss of such major contributors to self-esteem as friendships, identity, activity, vocation, significance, meaning and belonging.  If their departure was unplanned or unwanted it may be even harder.

This may be complicated further by the context of their return.  If they are returning to the embrace of a much-missed family, a supportive church, a familiar home, a close circle of friends and a meaningful new role, the transition may well be easier.  But sometimes, people return to… nothing.

A temporary home.  No job.  A church that has forgotten them.  Family that never engaged with them that much.  And a society and culture that has changed in their absence, so that what should feel familiar is disorientingly strange.  The gloom and despondency that can descend on an individual who has left a significant placement and returned to nothing can weigh heavily on their wellbeing.   In a recent debrief, a returning worker said:

I feel like I am adrift

 

And that, sadly, is a feeling common to many such people.  They have set out from a familiar port they can no longer return to, but haven’t yet found a safe haven to land in.  Unsure of where they are in the cold and choppy waters, they feel at the mercy of wind and waves that threaten to engulf them.  With no friendly horizon in site, they drift from day to day wondering if they will ever find home.  So how can we bring comfort to such ‘Flying Dutchmen’?

A suitable  illustration can be found in the life of another famous sailor, the 6th century Irish monk St Brendan, who bravely (or perhaps foolishly by today’s risk-averse standards) sailed off in his little currach, trusting God to take him wherever He wanted Brendan to serve him.  His epic journey has been much-mythologised but it appears that in trusting God into the unknown, Brendan comfortingly found that no matter how strange or unfamiliar his surroundings, he was always at home in them, because he was at home in Christ, who is everywhere.

The Northumbria Community’s communion service Small Boat, Great Big Sea* celebrates Brendan’s famous voyaging as a metaphor for our own wanderings, and concludes with this lovely blessing:

 

When you no longer know how to be,

may the Father take you on your deeper journey.

When you no longer know what to do,

may the Spirit reveal to you your fitting task.

When all feels lost or foreign,

may you know your home in Christ.

 

God is in the journey as much as he is in the arrival.

 

 

 

*Celtic Daily Prayer, Book Two, p962

This time of year is ‘conker’ season in England.  Conkers, the hard brown shiny fruit of the horse chestnut tree, fall from the trees and are eagerly gathered up by squirrels, children keen to play the game of conkers, and me.

Each time I go for my daily walk, I gather a pocketful of conkers from the pavement outside my house, where they have fallen from a nearby tree.  As I continue my walk, I toss them into hedgerows, unutilised corners of land, and areas of scrub, in the hope that they will germinate and grow into trees.  It’s partly to save the planet, partly to beautify the city.  I dream that in 100 years’ time south Birmingham will famous for its chestnuts, like Pretoria is for its jacarandas.

I take a similar approach to planting the seeds of the gospel.  Not all of us have the opportunity to plant vast fields of seeds in a systematic programme or ministry.  But everyone, at any time, can toss a few good news conkers into the unused wasteland of someone’s hard heart.

It’s not even as structured as giving them a gospel presentation or quoting from the Bible.  It’s as simple as giving someone a glimpse of what God is like.  A touch of love, kindness, generosity or help can give someone that opportunity.

Many of us who are passionately engaged in full-time mission can so easily overlook those little moments when we have random encounters with a homeless person, a shop worker or taxi driver.  Yet those connections can form the basis of a chance action which becomes a witness, which becomes a relationship, which becomes a harvest.

The Gospels present us with many such meetings in the life of Jesus alongside the big events like the sermon on the mount or the feeding of the 5000.  Often they are chance encounters as he is travelling.  One of my favourites is when he meets a Samaritan woman at a well (John 4).  He asks her for a drink, and they get into conversation.  The conversation becomes a challenge, and ultimately the whole village responds to him.  One simple request led to a harvest, just as one conker can become a huge chestnut tree.

Today, as you go about your business, be mindful that each person you meet gives you an opportunity to plant a gospel seed.

At this time of year, many mission workers are back in the UK to reconnect with family and friends.  Many of them will stay for a few months, and some for up to a year as they take their home assignment.

For many of them, the biggest uncertainty and cause of stress is arranging accommodation.  There is just so little accommodation available.  Hotels are obviously too expensive; getting a short-term let of less than a year is nigh-on impossible.  One well-known Christian charity has just withdrawn from making homes available to mission workers.  Some mission workers own their own home in the UK and could evict their tenants, but then they may be using the rent to provide them with income, so that’s not a viable solution.

Occasionally mission workers may get an opportunity to house-sit for someone who has gone abroad, or to stay in someone’s holiday home, but those often aren’t in the right part of the country.   Many people have to make do with poor arrangements.

I’ve known people stay in empty student accommodation at a Bible College which is three hours’ drive from their family and supporting church.  I’ve known a family of 5 staying with parents in a 2-bedroom bungalow.  Those sort of arrangements do not provide the rest mission workers need.

For many years Syzygy has had the dream of having houses in various parts of the country that we can make available to mission workers.  It’s a big dream, which would meet a need centrally, but recently I’ve been wondering if a missions support agency should actually be doing this, when we’re really wanting the church to be more effective at supporting their mission workers.  Shouldn’t the church be doing this?

The church you ask?  Isn’t that impossible?  Impractical?

Let’s just imagine a typical church for a moment.   It might not be very big, and many of its members may be unsalaried or living on pensions.  But a gift day can still raise a significant amount.  Two or three gift days, supplemented by fundraising activities, could bring in enough funding for a deposit on a small house or flat, allowing a mortgage to be raised using the value of a church building as collateral.  Voila!  A home for mission workers.

But there are still mortgage repayments to make.  Given that for much of the time the mission workers won’t be using the house, it can be rented out on a yearly tenancy arrangement which will cover the mortgage.  Or, if more flexibility is needed, it can be let short-term on AirBnb.  Alternatively, it can be used to house a church worker short-term, or made available to local charities or the council to provide emergency accommodation for homeless people or refugees.  And if you’re worried about all the administration involved in managing this, why not set up an arrangement with a local letting agent to do it with you?

We recognise that not all churches will be able to do this.   We don’t know your existing commitments and the extent of your resources.  But we want to plant the idea and show that it is possible.

Some years ago I came across a church which had bought a small development of six flats.  Four of them were let commercially, one was made available to a caretaker, and the sixth was kept ready for the church’s mission workers to use whenever they needed it.

Could yours be that church?

 

Syzygy knows of one or two places available for mission workers to use when they are back in the UK.  Contact us on info@syzygy.org.uk for more information.  Alternatively see the Accommodation page on the Oscar website.

During the difficult lockdown days that many countries (especially in Europe) continued to endure this spring, my organization required us to take at least a half-day retreat somewhere in our city, find a bridge and reflect on its significance.

As I found my bridge in a beautiful park in my city of Genova, Italy, I made the following observations about bridges:

  1. Bridges are often used to cross or overcome an obstacle
  2. Are often the fastest means to get from point A to point B
  3. To cross a bridge can often be scary (water, fear of heights, high winds, instability, etc.)
  4. Crossing a bridge also involves trust, not only in the engineering, but also in the foundation
  5. Bridges require maintenance and attention
  6. Bridges can be diverse and innovative
  7. And finally, bridges add perspective, allowing one to see things from a different point of view

So how do bridges relate to Member Care? In the past year, I have debriefed numerous people working in dynamic and often volatile teams of both married and single people. The thing that everyone had in common was that first of all, they all have struggled in some way or another during the Covid-19 pandemic, and second, all felt that others on the team have failed to understand or acknowledge their life situations.

Some who are single talked about feelings of loneliness and isolation during the pandemic and frustration that their organizations and teams didn’t offer more support during difficult lockdown days. In contrast, other singles felt that because they are used to managing on their own, they were better equipped not only to deal with government restrictions and quarantine, but also available to offer support and care to those who needed it the most during lockdown. But what the singles DID have in common was that all felt that their married colleagues need to learn more about how to be sensitive to the needs and struggles of singles.

One young single woman (permission granted to share her story) serving in a closed-access country offered an interesting example of the conflict and misunderstandings that can occur between single and married colleagues. During a mandatory hostage training course that her team participated in, her team went through a simulation in which kidnappers asked for a person to be offered as ransom. This particular woman was both hurt and shocked that her team said she should offer herself up as ransom in order to save the other members of the team because she is not married and doesn’t have to look out for a family. Moreover, she was shamed into thinking she was selfish for not offering herself voluntarily. Clearly her team had a lot to unpack, debrief, and reconcile.

Other single inter-cultural workers have often talked about how their married counterparts often ask them to babysit because “obviously being single means you have more time on your hand,” or “don’t lose heart, God is your husband,” to which a close friend of mine says, “No, God is not my husband, He is my Lord and Saviour!” And finally, singles often hear not only from teammates, but also supporters and churches, “we are praying for you to find a spouse,” to which singles might say, “that’s funny, I never asked for you to pray about that.”

But what about teammates who are married? Many married people have shared that this past year added a whole new level of stress on their marriage. Why? Because they were forced to spend 24 hours a day together with no break. I have heard one married person say, “Although I love my wife, I envy those who are single during Covid who at least get some time to themselves.” Cases of domestic abuse have also been on the rise during the pandemic due to added stress and married people feeling that they are living on top of each other at times.

I have also heard married people express that single people often fail to recognize the individuality and/or unique personality of each spouse. Simply put, Sarah and Abraham, while a unit, are clearly also two different people and personalities.

Interestingly, I have heard singles and married people both complain about a particular rule married people may have, albeit from different perspectives.  Many of us know of married couples who have a rule not to ever be in a room together alone with someone of the opposite sex.  I have heard married cross-cultural workers complain about their single teammates who they feel have not respected or perhaps have interfered in this rule.  However, I have heard singles address this same rule by saying, “married teammates who have this rule need to understand how such a rule inadvertently affects single people.”

Perspective!

Finally, I personally have seen both sides of the bridge, so to speak, because both my wife and I spent half of our adult cross-cultural life as both single and married.  We both have heard teammates and other Christian workers say to us AFTER we got married, “you have finally arrived” or “your spouse really completes you.”  It makes one think, geesh, what did they really think of me when I was single?  And no, it is not correct to say “My better-half, or my husband or wife completes me.” We need to all think about what are words mean and their impact, and even more so, their theological ramifications. No, our spouses don’t complete us (though they certainly can and should complement us); we are ALL COMPLETE in Christ.

What is needed and what is the Member Care lesson? Build a bridge, cross the bridge, and look at life, experiences, and the view from the other side. Building and crossing that bridge involves trust, innovation, creativity but offers our teams stability, perspective and efficiency. Both Married and single teammates suffer from loneliness, being misunderstood, and feeling frustrated. But if they are willing to build a bridge and work together, beautiful things can be done collectively for the Kingdom!

 

This is a guest blog by Mihai Lundell, a member care worker with OCI serving in Italy who is also on the Board of Member Care Europe.  It first appeared on the Member Care Europe website and is reused with permission.

 

 

*Recommended Reading:

  1. Redeeming Singleness: How the Storyline of Scripture Affirms the Single Life by Barry Danylak
  2. Single Mission by Debbie Hawker & Tim Herbert
  3. Married in Mission: A Handbook for Couples in Cross-Cultural Service by Alexis C. Kenny

 

As we are now well over a year into Covid-19 and for some of us the disruption and turmoil seem no closer to ending, I’d like to share some observations on our joint experience as  I draw to an end this extended series on our Covid 19 experience.

It seems to me (to make a subjective observation that is not robust or scientifically-based) that mission workers have, on the whole, coped with the challenges of the last 15 months with less obvious trauma than the average Christian, despite the difficulties of often being away from home for extended periods, not being in the same country as their children, or grappling with the fact that our comparative wealth gives us more options than the local people we work with.

If we have fared better throughout this crisis, what are some of the reasons?

Mission workers are already accustomed to change and turmoil.  Many of us will have had to move country rapidly for security or visa reasons; some of us live with an evacuation bag already packed.  We’re used to not seeing loved ones in person sometimes for years at a time.  And some of the challenges faced by the rest of the population, like home schooling or working from home, may be things we are doing already.

We have a sense of vocation which pulls us through difficult times.  Our activities may have been disrupted but we still have a sense of calling to a particular place, people group or activity which provides us with a sense of purpose and direction in difficult times.

We expect life to bring challenges.  Whether we were trained to expect difficulties, or have simply got used to dealing with them along the way, we have a theology of suffering.  We have experienced the doors closed to mission and know first-hand the risks of international mission.  So when we encounter another major challenge, it’s more like a huge pothole than the road ahead being completely destroyed.

We have good support mechanisms.  Most Christians do not have their own support groups, churches praying for them regularly, or prayer groups.  Most people don’t circulate a monthly prayer letter.  They don’t have a member care department checking in with them regularly.  We are blessed to have so many people actively praying for, supporting and encouraging each of us.

We have constructive working relationships (most of the time!)  Part of our role in being a ‘professional’ Christian is that we pray with our co-workers, expect discussion of our spiritual growth to be normal, and regularly study the Bible or discuss theology as part of our work or fellowship.  This means we are constantly engaging with God, or with others about God, in our daily lives.  Our leadership is expected to take an interest in our spiritual wellbeing and may even be proactive in supporting us or holding us accountable.

It’s easy for us to forget that most Christians live and work in a largely secular context devoid of the sort of support and encouragement that we receive.  So how do we, who continue to receive so much in the midst of the current difficulties, help the rest of the church benefit from the structures, supports and relationships that are so important for helping us thrive through the adversities we experience?

It would be helpful to have feedback from our readers who are mission workers, to know what has worked to help you during Covid-19, or what help you would have liked but didn’t receive.  Email us on info@syzygy.org.uk or engage with us through social media links.

 

Other blogs in this series on dealing with issues thrown up by Covid-19:

Episode 1: Who am I?

Episode 2: What do I do?

Episode 3: What is my calling?

Episode 4: Coping with loss of control

Episode 5: Building on firm foundations

Episode 6: Following the Shepherd

Episode 7: Drawing on spiritual resources

 

Following on from my previous blog about Drawing on Spiritual Resources, one of the phrases I referred to as not being particularly helpful is ‘waiting for the Lord’.  After all for busy people with the demands and pressures of 21st century life on them, just sitting and doing nothing, even if they’re doing it prayerfully and expectantly, is not going to go down well.

The day after publishing that blog, quite independently, two people emailed me quoting that expression from Isaiah 40:31 as an encouragement.  So I thought I’d better delve a bit more deeply into its meaning.

But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

It turns out that the Hebrew word qavah can indeed be translated as ‘wait’, often with a sense of hope, eagerness or anticipation, perhaps like a child whose birthday has arrived but who hasn’t been given the presents yet.  It is used several times in the Old Testament in this sense.

But it has another meaning – to bind together, to twist.  The imagery is of making a rope, which by twisting many strands together makes the finished rope stronger than each individual strand would have been by itself.

So these two meanings amplify each other, and active, eager waiting for God also involves us binding ourselves to God.  Reminiscent of the verse in Ecclesiastes “ a cord of three strands is not quickly broken (4:12).  Since this verse is in the context of ‘two are better than one’, it is a small leap of imagination to think of that period of impatient waiting when two lives are being merged into one couple – engagement.

And waiting for the Lord is rather like that.  There is the eager anticipation, whether of healing, or a permit coming through, or support-raising hitting the critical threshold, but while we prayerfully wait and cannot move forward without the Lord acting, we can take the opportunity, like an engaged couple, to intentionally start getting to know each other better.

People preparing for the big day hopefully realise they are planning for a marriage and not just a wedding.  They ask each other searching questions: ‘What do you think about…  how do you do this… which do you prefer…’ with a view to understanding each other better.  They might seek advice and mentoring from more experienced Christians.  They might do a marriage preparation course to help them prepare.  And they do things together so they can find out who likes what, and whether it’s an activity they could share.

So a period of enforced waiting isn’t necessarily a time of inactivity.  We can be actively drawing closer to God and twisting our life together with God’s.  Then we will renew our strength.  Or will we?

The Hebrew word chalaph which is translated as ‘renew’ in this context means to gain something different, in the same sense that Joseph changed his clothes when he came out of the prison (Genesis 41:14, also chalaph in Hebrew).  He didn’t just wash his prison uniform.  He put on clothing fit to meet Pharaoh in.  It must have been given to him, as an imprisoned slave is unlikely to have owned glad rags.

Likewise this new strength that we get isn’t ours, it’s God’s and it comes as a result of us intentionally interweaving the strands of our life with God’s life so that God’s strength flows through us.  Or, as God explained to Paul why he was waiting for his healing, “My power is perfected in your weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

At a time when we have to continue digging deep into our spiritual resources in order to keep going, how exactly do you do that?

We might often talk about having deep roots (Psalm 1), abiding in the vine (John 15), experiencing streams of living water (John 7:38) or even waiting on the Lord (Isaiah 40:31), but the spiritual language used in such cases doesn’t give us much advice on what we practically do to achieve this when we’re trying to disciple people on Zoom, support the children in their homeschooling, and deal with our own emotional needs.

Some of our usual spiritual practices such as going on retreat, sitting in silent prayer in a church building, or walking in the countryside with God have not been available to us for a long time, and perhaps in some places still won’t be for a while longer.  What can we do instead to help us intentionally draw near to God and receive strength, grace and whatever other resources we need?

Can I suggestion taking communion at home?  Obviously that won’t work if your church teaching is that you need an ordained minister to consecrate the bread and wine (unless you are an ordained minister).  But you could still trying eating your own bread and drinking your own wine at home, watching a video of a priest presiding over communion, as has been encouraged in many denominations while we are unable to take communion corporately.

Those of us from a church persuasion who are accustomed to lay people administering specially prepared but ‘unconsecrated’ elements might like to try communion at home.  Set aside just ten minutes for some peace and quiet, to approach communion with an unhurried mind, and time to collect your thoughts and feelings in a busy day.

A clear objection arises immediately: communion is a community activity, not a domestic one.  The clue is in the name; it means sharing, having in common.  And after all: ‘we who are many are one body; for we all partake of the one bread’ (1 Corinthians 10:16–17).  It can’t be done in a domestic setting.  Unless you want to think of the ‘one body’ as being the one body of Christ universal, rather than the one body of a local expression of church.

However, Jesus introduced communion in a domestic setting.  Although he was with his followers – the church, if you like – the Passover was always intended to be a celebration held at home, not in the temple or synagogue (Exodus 12:3-4, 46).  And the main point of the communing in the Lord’s meal is the communing not with other congregants, but with Jesus.  His instruction was to ‘do this in remembrance of me’ (Luke 22.19).  Paul underlines this: ‘as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death, until He comes’ (1 Corinthians 11:26).

Whether you take communion at home with your whole family, your housemates, your partner or just on your own, the act of communion reminds us of Christ’s essential provision for each of us.  It gives us an opportunity to stop and remember that no matter how hard we try we can’t do this on our own, and that in his death, resurrection and subsequent sending of the Holy Spirit we have ‘everything we need for a godly life’ (2 Peter 1:3).

 

Other blogs in this series on dealing with issues thrown up by Covid-19:

Episode 1: Who am I?

Episode 2: What do I do?

Episode 3: What is my calling?

Episode 4: Coping with loss of control

Episode 5: Building on firm foundations

Episode 6: Following the Shepherd

Episode 8: What have we learned?

Source: www.freeimages.com

You’ve probably heard this phrase: ‘The safest place to be is in God’s will.’

No it’s not.

The safest place to be is probably on the couch in your living room minding your own business.

Though even that depends on where you live. Safety isn’t the priority for the Christian. God’s glory is and living for God’s glory isn’t the safest thing to do.  In God’s will is the right place to be. The best place to be. The most God-honouring place. We see wonderful things happen as we follow Jesus but it’s not the safest thing to do.

Following Jesus is not the safest option. There’s risk. There’s possible danger. We could avoid various challenges, hardships or dangers by fleeing from God’s will.

Daniel. Joseph. Esther. Stephen. Paul. They were faithfully following God’s leading and it got them into risk-filled, dangerous situations. Then there’s Jesus who was perfect, fully obedient and went to the cross. Then there’s countless believers throughout history who suffered precisely because they were following Jesus.

God never guarantees his people safety in every situation. Passages that tell of God rescuing and delivering show that people had encountered great trouble and danger up to that point. There are so many verses about afflictions, trials and suffering in the Christian life. ‘We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God’ (Acts 14:22). ‘Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.’ (1 Peter 4:12). ‘For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him but also to suffer for him.’ (Philippians 1:29). Hebrews 11 tells us about people who were all commended for their faith – some were delivered, some were killed. They were all faithful. Faith is no guarantee of earthly safety or health.

Suffering is normal. There are all kinds of risks in obeying God. God knows the future, we don’t. He can’t risk. We can. As followers of Jesus we embrace risk, we don’t turn from it. Many others have suffered greatly and lost their lives when they were exactly where God had sent them to be. They knew the risks but they did it anyway.

We are ultimately safe – guaranteed the perfect rest and security of God’s Kingdom. That confidence helps us take risks for the gospel’s sake and face danger where necessary.  When people see us endure, persevere and trust God through challenges, dangers, illness, persecution, it’s a really powerful witness. It tells people we value Jesus above even our own safety. He is so worthy that we’re willing to suffer for his sake. It’s reasonable risk. Not foolishness.  Reasonable because of the results that it can bring: glory to God, people led to Christ and spiritual growth in our lives.

May God strengthen us to take risks in His name. To live out the faith He’s called us to live. To live a life for God’s glory, whatever happens.

 

This week’s guest blogger is Alex Hawke, a Country Team Leader with Interserve (www.interserve.org) in South East Asia where he serves with his wife Ellie and their two sons. 


Photo by Maxim Hopman on Unsplash

The sight of one of the world’s most respected and influential women sitting all alone at the funeral of her husband is a stark visual reminder that every bereaved spouse grieves alone.

Unlike Queen Elizabeth, they may have the support of family, church and friends who are part of their bubble, and may be able to sit next to them, but few friends and relations fully comprehend the searing emptiness that comes from losing a beloved life partner, or feeling that part of your soul has been ripped out and the pain will never heal, and that you cannot imagine you will find the strength to continue living without the support of your other half.

Nearly half of the married people on the planet will experience this trauma personally.  Most of them will be in their retirement years when the loss, though not unexpected, comes.  Just at a time when one’s need for company and practical support may be increasing and one’s ability to adapt to change may be decreasing.  But given the fact that bereavement is so common, it is shocking that so few of us know how to support people through it.

Even churches, which are supposedly known for their compassion and love, will often only bring round meals and offer a helping hand until the funeral.  It seems as if for many people the funeral marks the end of the transition, and life goes back to normal.

Not for the bereaved partner, who now has to cope on their own.  They have to tackle all sorts of tasks their spouse might have habitually done.  They may be lonely, as they have nobody to talk to about their day.  The other side of the bed is empty.  And yet at this time friends may be absent, not knowing what to say, or fearing that the newly-bereaved will become an emotional burden to them.  It’s sink or swim for the bereaved.

At times like these, friends and family need to be present.  We don’t necessarily have to do anything other than be there to share in the sorrow.  It’s often overlooked in all the criticism of Job’s comforters that the thing they got right was turning up.  They sat in solidarity with Job for seven days.

Many of us fear saying the wrong thing.  I think it’s an overstated fear unless you have a significant ability to be tactless: “I didn’t like him much but I know you did”.  If you’re not confident of saying the right thing, just shut and and  make a cuppa,  or help tidy up.  If you’re a bit bolder you can try giving some pastoral support.  For example, I find that the grief/loss cycle is a useful tool for helping the bereaved.  It helps them understand that they are on a journey adjusting to loss, that many others have been on before them.  It explains why their emotions can be erratic.  It gives them hope that they can survive.

God is at work in the life of the bereaved and we have a wonderful opportunity to be part of that.  He wants them to understand that his love for them is so much greater than the love they have lost.  He wants them to know that their life hasn’t ended too; in fact he still has plans and purposes for them.  He wants to pour his Holy Spirit into their lives to bring them strength and consolation.

Bereaved people may feel alone but they don’t have to be lonely or isolated.  We should be there for them.

 

Outside my window is a lanky cherry tree.  As much as I like trees, this one is somewhat scrawny and unprepossessing.  For much of the year it looks more like a dishevelled broomstick than a tree.

Yet for two weeks in April, it is glorious.  It shines in the sun with a pale pink iridescence that makes me wonder how it can achieve so much.  In this one fortnight it earns its place on the street.

Many mission workers I know would identify with the broomstick image.  They are often toiling away in dark places, seeing little fruit, no change in their community, and wondering if it is worth carrying on.

Like the tree, which has endured dry periods, cold spells, and long dark periods of inactivity, they have been through much and may have little to show for it.  But they are still there!  They haven’t thrown in the towel; they have persisted and endured, and remained faithful to their calling.  Who knows if their chance to shine may be just around the corner.

In these days when there is so much loss, uncertainty and fear at large in the world, we who have faith in the risen Lord Jesus have an excellent opportunity to proclaim the reason for our hope, and to demonstrate the impact our faith has on the way we live in difficult times.

In the past year, some of us have literally walked through the valley of the shadow of death.  We have lost loved ones, tried to help the dying, ministered to the bereaved, and conducted more funerals than we can count.

Others who are not personally touched by death have walked in the shadow of fear.  We have not socialised (or been permitted to) for fear of infection.  We have not been able to travel.  We’ve had to deal with falling incomes and can’t do the face-to-face work to maintain our support levels.  We’ve seen our children struggle with home schooling and isolation and we wonder if they’ll be scarred for life.

Through all these experiences the Shepherd is still as close as you want Him to be.  He has not got lost or missed the right path.  He has not forgotten you.  He knows the path seems frightening and dangerous to you.  But he has chosen to bring you this way, though we may never know why.

The Shepherd is not in the habit of explaining everything to the sheep.  There is an agreement between them: the sheep trust him to care for them, and the Shepherd expects them to trust and obey.  When they fail to do that, they risk getting lost, but he will still come and look for them.

The Shepherd is bringing us on this route for a purpose, even though we don’t know what that purpose is, and probably never will.  We are tempted to wonder why He’s taken us away from the green pastures, but He’s not so cruel that he will take us on an unpleasant path that isn’t necessary.

Yes, there is danger.  Yes, it’s scary.  This is the time for the sensible sheep to stay close to the Shepherd, listen for the sound of his voice directing them, and close enough for His rod and staff to be there for them should they need them.

In walking the path through the valley our trust in the Shepherd is strengthened.  In future, we will know that if the Shepherd brings us this way again, we have nothing to fear, not because it’s not scary, but because the Shepherd has looked after us well before.

Mission workers are no strangers to risk.  We often go to or live in places which make people at home purse their lips and say “Are you sure it’s safe?”  No, we aren’t sure, but we go anyway, because we’re obedient to the call of the Shepherd and we will follow him wherever he leads.  As Jonah found, it’s safer to be with God in a scary place, than to run away from God.  Even at times when common sense tells us to go in the opposite direction.

The sheep who has stayed in green pastures knows nothing of this depth of trust.  That sheep is scared of a child with a stick, but the sheep who has trodden the valley road with the Shepherd has seen the eyes of the hungry wolf in the darkness, and knows the Shepherd will protect it from the wolf.  That sheep knows a new confidence, a new boldness, not because of anything it has achieved itself, but because it has witnessed with its own eyes what the Shepherd can do.  It emerges from the experience with a new, calm assurance.

That’s not to say it wants to walk the valley road again.  But it knows, not just theoretically but from experience, that if it has to go that way in future, it can trust the Shepherd.

 

Other blogs in this series on dealing with issues thrown up by Covid-19:

Episode 1: Who am I?

Episode 2: What do I do?

Episode 3: What is my calling?

Episode 4: Coping with loss of control

Episode 5: Building on firm foundations

Episode 7: Drawing on spiritual resources

Episode 8: What have we learned?

 

In the cold dark days of winter there’s nothing I like more than getting a good log fire going in my hearth.  I often sit in front of the fire and work on my laptop in the warmth.  I guess many of us like wood fires, even if we live in countries where we don’t need them very often.

Many centuries ago, a famous contemplative observed that when we come to extended times of prayer or meditation, we’re very much like a log that’s just been put on the fire.  Initially it is cold, and it hisses as the moisture in it evaporates off.  As it warms up, any sap or resin remaining in it catches fire and the log starts to spit and crackle.  Only after a while does the log get really hot and surrender itself to the flames without struggling.

That describes my experience of sitting down for a time with the Lord.  At first, my head is filled with thoughts of all the things I have to do, and I need to be patiently disciplined at putting them all on one side for the time being and remind myself that I am not here to think about them now.

Then, as my soul starts to settle, I notice all the distractions around me: the ticking clock, the traffic, a voice from the house next door or birdsong in the garden.  These too I have to lay aside and remember that they are of no concern to me at this moment.  Only after what seems a lengthy time of preparation do I succeed in stilling my heart and becoming attentive to the Consuming Fire that is my God (Hebrews 12:29) as I seek to surrender my thoughts and attention to him.

To do all this in the space of a 20 or 30 minute devotional time at the start of our busy day is not always practical.  Some of us take longer than that to really settle down and get our hearts in a peaceful place.  To really tune in to God we need to set aside a significant amount of time for contemplation and prayer.  But how is that possible in our busy lives, when family, church and ministry have so many pressing demands?

Some of us are working from home and have little opportunity to withdraw.  Others are homeschooling and our children need constant supervision.  And even if the children could go to school, and we could go to the office, our favourite retreat centres and church buildings are closed.

So we need to find other ways of setting aside time and space.  For some of us it may mean getting up before dawn so that we get time while the house is quiet, finding a time during the day when we can go for a walk with God or sit quietly in the garden.  Some people I know have negotiated alternating days off with their partner so they can find a lengthy period of space.

In these times, we need more than ever to find creative ways of making the time to really settle into the presence of God.  A short time may be a quick fix, but the long, steady warmth of a burning log gives more heat than the quick fix of a brightly blazing twig.