Too Late For Some

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Theology / Church, Arab World

One of the most poignant stories I have ever heard comes from the life of the famous missionary to China, J. Hudson Taylor. The first man to come to faith through Taylor’s preaching was a leader of a Buddhist sect, and it was a sweet moment when he testified that after years of searching for truth and rest, he had found them at last in Jesus. But the experience turned bittersweet when he inquired just how long this life-giving news had been known in England. “‘What!’ said he, amazed. ‘Is it possible that for hundreds of years you have had the knowledge of these glad tidings in your possession, and yet have only now come to preach it to us? My father sought truth for more than twenty years, and died without finding it. Oh, why did you not come sooner?’”

How easy it is for us, even those of us living among ‘unreached’ people, to lose track of how quickly the time is passing, and how many people all around us are literally dying to hear the ‘glad tidings’ which brought us life. Demanding jobs wear us down, the daily pressures of life consume our energy, ‘political correctness’ or even fear of reprisal may sap our boldness… all conspire to numb us to the awful reality that people we know, and millions we don’t, are racing towards an everlasting separation from God.

Paul implored the saints in Ephesus to walk wisely, ‘redeeming the time (literally, ‘buying the opportunity’) because the days are evil.’ Sometimes ‘the opportunity’ is obvious. Several months ago we first met ‘Sarah,’ who was staying in the slum with her brother’s family, and had come to the city in search of medical treatment. A quick examination revealed that she had come much too late. The cancer which had begun in her mouth had completely eaten away her tongue, and had spread into her neck and jaw. She was in terrific pain, and pleaded with us to help her. With heavy hearts we explained to her and her family that there was no medical solution, but that our God is able to heal, and so we prayed for her in Jesus’ name. And so began the journey.

Sarah often cried and kissed our hands when we brought her pain medicine or ‘milkshakes,’ or gave a little massage that helped to relax her frail and withered body a little. We also found that Sarah listened eagerly to our stories about the man named Jesus, who touched and healed people, and who willingly sacrificed himself for sinners. She dreamed one night that Jesus came to her and said, ‘God heals you.’ Sometimes she called out his name when the pain was too much. I saw her a couple of days before she died, very agitated and in a lot of pain. I prayed with her for God’s mercy, and she said ‘amen’ with me, and then calmed down and went to sleep. I know that she was touched by God’s love through our care for her. God knows if she is with Him now in glory, yet we are grateful for the precious opportunity we had to tell her of the Redeemer.

But often the opportunity is gone before we know it. I knew that ‘Matthew’ was special from the first day I met him. Unlike many of the other men from this poor community, Matthew went out of his way to help me, often escorting me around the slum until I got into my car to leave. His very humble shack was nevertheless neatly organized and clean… the tiny ‘kitchen’ he had set up for his wife even had shelves! He worked hard, seven days a week, as a garbage collector, in order to provide for his family, and would never have allowed his wife to beg on the street, as so many women do. We were encouraging him to organize other like-minded men to work together on improving their community. We had occasion to share with him that we were followers of Jesus, and that we ourselves had new life because of him. And we looked forward to telling him more. That is, until the day he was killed. One day a charitable organization showed up to distribute food and blankets in the community, and things got out of control. Everyone was grabbing, and tempers flared when Matthew and another woman reached for the same blanket. In the blink of an eye, the woman’s husband exploded in anger and stabbed Matthew in the chest. Witnesses later told us that he threw his arms around a young girl who was standing there and cried out for forgiveness before he collapsed and died. And the opportunity was gone. We learned last week that the man who killed him has been executed. Another opportunity.

I recently visited the family of an eight-year-old girl who was raped by a neighbour with a wife and children of his own. As I write this, I am convicted that I keep meaning to seek out his family, and maybe even the man himself, before it is too late. But life is so busy…

Hudson Taylor’s reflections on that first convert, written more than a century ago, still speak to us: “A whole generation has passed away since that mournful inquiry was made; but how many, alas, might repeat the same question today? More than two hundred millions in the meanwhile have been swept into eternity, without an offer of salvation. How long shall this continue, and the Master’s words, ‘to every creature,’ remain unheeded?” Can we not find the time to share that offer? Can we not pray?

Cross-cultural mission in Britain

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Other

Knowing how to read the wallpaper

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Education

I used to pass through the village like a tourist – admiring the variety of sights and sounds, the colour, the amount of life lived on the street. It was like looking at a bright wallpaper. But I can’t do that happily now because I know too much. I “read” the wallpaper.

The villages I walk through are each within one or two kilometres of one another on the outskirts of Bangalore city in south India, some commercialised and some still rural.

At a water tap women stand with the yellow and green plastic water-pots that have replaced the traditional brass – red saree, blue, floral, another red. Of course, it’s women standing and women who will carry the heavy load. Well, let me be fair. Things are changing. Men carry pots too, these days. But there’s a difference. Men bring a bicycle and carry six pots slung around it to ease the burden and finish the job quickly. Women carrying are usually stuck with one 15 kg pot at a time on head or hip, back and forth, back and forth.

A group of boys playing volleyball. Good – young people need games and exercise. What are the girls doing? No games for the girls? Nothing. They are never seen playing games.

Oh, I see some girls there. They’re carrying their younger siblings. More girls come by from a further village, returning their goats and sheep after the day’s grazing. Of course, that’s work for old people and teenage girls. Boys have to go to school.

I’ve come to a construction site now. Women work hard here carrying dishes of concrete, concrete blocks and sand, and get paid more than they used to. Their wages have gone up from 40 to 75 rupees a day. Men on the same site stand at the top of the chain gang and put the blocks in place. They get 150 rupees a day.

Wait, here’s something for young women – I have reached one of the six new nursing colleges on the way out from the city. Scores of young women and some young men train to be nurses. I hear the high number of training institutions is because of the demand for nurses in the Gulf, and that these young people will head overseas. But why? Parents invest in their training so they can send them off to earn and remit money back to them in India. So that’s why they get the opportunities! For whose benefit is the education then?

I head back to the Theological College where I teach mostly single and married men, with wives looking after the children.

The college welcomes women students. A single women’s hostel, built nine years ago, has rooms for 22. There have never yet been more than 14 young women. There were only two new girls this year. What’s the problem? Parents. They will pay for their son’s further theological education but few pay for a daughter’s. That would waste money. Anyway, our college offers Master’s degrees after earlier study, and everyone knows one must not let a daughter reach 24 still unmarried.

“Girls don’t need Bible training,” parental thinking goes. “People might say they are not ‘home-makers’ when you are arranging their marriage.” But aren’t women needed to reach out to women? “Yes, but let someone else do that.”

It’s a bit like the ancient Vedic saying, “Let a girl be born, but let her be born in someone else’s house.” Population statistics reflect that – more males than females, especially aged under ten, since the widespread use of ultrasound technology, and termination of female foetuses.

There are so many ways of keeping women down.

Beulah Wood has been in and out of India for 40 years, and longs for change for women and men whose family life is damaged by the traditional system.

Bride stealers

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Education

Ainura walked down the street on her way to the village store, her mind occupied with how to persuade her parents to allow her to go to the capital city to study.

At 18 years old, she had finished school the previous summer, and had no desire to spend the rest of her life in the village, helping her mother run the house until her own marriage. And that marriage, she hoped, would not be for a long time yet!

As Ainura walked along, she became aware of a car driving slowly behind her. She idly wondered if the driver needed help finding an address and turned to see. Suddenly the car stopped and three men she didn’t recognise jumped out and ran towards her. Ainura tried to escape but the men were too fast and too strong; they quickly overpowered her and forced her into the car. Ainura continued to struggle as they drove away – she knew the fate that awaited her at the destination: it would be the end of all her hopes and dreams. When the car pulled up outside a house, the youngest man’s family was waiting – holding a headscarf. If they managed to put the headscarf on her head and secure it, then Ainura would be considered married.

She cried and fought as they took her into the house but to no avail. The women gathered around her, all talking together about the time when they themselves were bride-napped; they tried to persuade her that she was getting a good husband and that it would be better for her if she just cooperated – after all, she really didn’t have any choice. Only one hope remained for Ainura – that her family would come and save her – so she continued to struggle until well after dark. Eventually, though, she accepted that her family had chosen not to come, and that by continuing to refuse she would bring shame on them. She also knew that even if she could escape, her family would now refuse to let her return home.

As she permitted the headscarf to be placed on her, she mourned the loss of her dreams. There would be no study, no university: her future was now contained within these four walls. As wife to the youngest son, she would now be responsible for running the household under the authority of her mother-in-law. Dazed, she wondered how her life could have changed so much since she stepped out of her house just that morning…

Ainura’s story is, sadly, all too common here in this part of Central Asia. Bride stealing (Ala Kachuu in the local language) is officially against the law, but has been increasing in the past few years, in both the cities and the villages.

One young believer was kidnapped recently on her way to her university class. A fellow student had jokingly declared he was going to marry her – except he turned out not to be joking. He arranged for his family’s help to bride-nap her, and took her back to his village. She is now unable to finish her university study, and is separated from her like-minded friends and fellowship.

Interserve partners in the south of our country are on to their third language helper, having had both their previous language helpers bride-napped – not a usual language learning problem! Fortunately, not long ago their third helper was able to talk her way out of the same situation and return to her home, where, just as fortunately, her family received her back.

This is rare, as all too often the girl is powerless to do anything but accept the situation. If she runs away, she brings disgrace on her family and is often turned out with nowhere to go. The family see her as a traitor to them and to society, and may disown her completely.

Frequently, the bride-napping is done with the agreement of the girl’s family, although the girl herself will know nothing about the plans that have been made on her behalf. In one such case, a young believer heard that she was about to be stolen by a non-believing man. She told her family that she would not go along with it. For her own safety she then had to flee the country, as the family could well have killed her if she persisted in refusing to marry the man.

The extent of bride-napping is not fully known but is probably great. In one village we visited, about 95% of the women said that they had “been stolen” and seemed to see it as a normal way of life. They all claimed to be happy, and for some this is probably true and the ‘napping’ possibly even happened with their consent. But for many the reverse is the case and they end up in abusive situations involving rape, beatings and other atrocities.

So why is bride-napping such a problem? Why do so many men resort to bride-napping as the means to get a wife? There are cases where it is done more out of tradition, and the girl will be involved in arranging it, along with her family. In these cases it is treated as a joke and part of the celebration. However, more often than not, the girl knows nothing about it, and sometimes does not even know the man involved.

Tradition demands that the youngest son marry so his bride can take on the running of the home and free up his mother to care for the grandchildren. Some men feel that the only guaranteed way to obtain the bride of their choice is to bride-nap her. Other men may be too poor to pay the expected dowry, which may be as much as five horses and other expensive gifts, to the girl’s family. Or – all too often – if the man is known to be involved in alcohol or drug abuse, no one is willing to marry him, and so bride-napping is seen as the only option remaining for his family.

So, if Ala Kachuu is illegal, why is so little being done to stop it? There is a maximum prison sentence of two years for men who are successfully prosecuted; however, this does not seem to act as a deterrent. Ala Kachuu is often ignored by the authorities due to corruption and the view that bridenapping is a family problem, and as such the police prefer not to get involved. In the rare cases where they do take action and are successful in sending the man to prison, the marriage is not declared void. The wife then has to live with the shame not only of being bride-napped in the first place, but also of her husband’s imprisonment.

Ainura now lives happily with her husband and two children but she still thinks wistfully of what might have been, and makes plans for her daughter’s future, plans that include university and a good job. It’s the kind of future that, sadly, was stolen from Ainura, and is stolen from many women in this nation. Ainura’s hopes for her daughter could become reality – but only if the perpetrators of Ala Kachuu come to recognise that bride-napping is not a harmless cultural tradition, but rather a violation of women’s basic rights to dignity and free choice.

The author has been living in Central Asia with her family for the past six years, and is involved in community health education.

Do Muslim women really need saving

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Other, Other

Aradhna

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Theology / Church, Other

One of my favourite memories of a childhood in Nepal, as the son of Interserve missionaries, was listening to my mother play the piano as I lay in bed. On some nights she would spontaneously meld western harmonies with the plaintive eastern melodies of Nepali folk songs worshiping Christ. It was unheard of to have a piano in a small mountain village. Thirteen porters struggled for two days to manoeuvre the piano through the rice paddies. I remember this image now; a western piano strangely implanted in the East.

My colleague Pete Hicks was born a few years later in New Delhi, also the son of missionary parents. But they were soon assigned to North America and Pete grew up in New Jersey and Georgia. The one thing the two of us had in common growing up on opposite sides of the globe was rock music, which was already easily available in the form of music cassettes in stores in Kathmandu.

Twenty five years later, in 1995, I met Pete and invited him to join my rock band, OLIO, in India. But I was growing increasingly restless simply playing rock music in a land I knew was full of incredible melodies and poetry of its own. The seeds of a fusion of eastern melodies and western harmony, which had been planted in me by my mother, were growing into something that would soon become my life’s focus. When Pete arrived I began to bring out the sitar, and created with him a fusion with guitar that preserved the devotional nature of the music while incorporating western musical influences. So we formed Aradhna, which means adoration, out of a longing to worship Christ with all of the haunting beauty of the melodies of the East and the familiar comfort of the guitar.

At the time we were not very clear on what our aim in creating this fusion was, but we soon became aware that others were drawn to the deep devotion of the melodies and words. People from both Asian and western backgrounds began telling us things like “For the first time in my life as a follower of Christ I feel like I have arrived home in worship.” Others said, “I never imagined that I could connect with my own country’s music, let alone sense the Holy Spirit’s strong presence in it, but after hearing these bhajans I feel like a whole area of my life that I had rejected is now being redeemed.”

Perhaps the deepest impact of all has been on Hindu followers of Christ whose lives are often characterized by a deep delight in Christ combined with the intense sorrow stemming from the loss of family ties. In these bhajans “(worship songs) they are finding their spiritual voice, and it is bringing them to a wholeness they never knew before. They are showing their parents that, for them, following Christ can be expressed in deeply Indian ways. They are illustrating how being a devotee of Christ is not contradictory to the simple Hindu ideals of spiritual discipline, good works, and an intense pursuit of truth.

It is wonderful for us in Aradhna to be so connected with these brothers and sisters in Christ from Hindu backgrounds. What may come as a surprise, though, is the connection this music is having in the West with people who have no reason in their background to feel connected with bhajans. Many young people are expressing a deep hunger to know that Christ is bigger than western culture, bigger than their own small worlds. And in this hunger we are seeing many begin to sing from their hearts in languages they do not know, realizing that they are singing the praises of Christ with people around the world.

For information on how to buy Aradhna’s CDs anywhere in the world, go to www.aradhnamusic. com/store. Their music can also be purchased from the iTunes store.

23 years later

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Education

Pot inspector

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Agriculture, Arab World

For most of the past 10 years my family and I have lived in a part of the world where relatively few people understand what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

When we arrived I had anticipated putting my honours degree and doctorate to good use in some sort of agricultural project which served the poor and gave ample opportunities to live out our faith. Instead I became the world’s most highly qualified pot inspector!

It all began quite innocently really – or was that ignorantly?

Firstly, I knew nothing about the product we were selling (pottery), in fact I didn’t even like it. My only prior exposure had been when my wife dragged me down to the Sunday markets to ‘revel’ in the pottery on sale – a highly evolved form of conjugal torture!

Secondly, I knew nothing about doing business – I was an agricultural scientist, the son of a Marxist. In my family, business was a sleazy alien we stopped at the front door along with the Jehovah’s Witnesses. We were encouraged to pursue honourable professions which would benefit the world (medicine, education – even science). So although I could model ‘heat and water vapour transfer’ I couldn’t distinguish a balance sheet from a shopping docket!

Thirdly, we had no capital – well what do you expect of a Christian socialist!

Despite this trifecta of what might be kindly described as business handicaps, we somehow (or more accurately, God managed) to build a business exporting pottery to Western markets. Along the way we became the leading pottery exporter in that country. We employed about 20 people full-time, up to 30 casual staff, and through our subcontractors generated employment for more than 200 people. We worked in more than 10 different communities across the country and worked with more than 70 different subcontractors (including accessory suppliers and packaging suppliers).

It started very simply – a fellow Christian worker (who was a trader by background) needed someone to help him pack pots. He had figured out that the pottery was cheap and that there was perhaps an export market for it. But if the price was low, the quality was lower, so to control that he inspected every pot he shipped – the trouble was there was only so many hours in the day and when you have to pack 50,000 pots just to fill up one container, that’s a lot of hours.

The solution of course was to bring in the world’s most highly qualified pot inspector (moi!). I knew all those years of studying heat and water transfer through the rhizosphere (even my computer doesn’t know this word) would eventually come in handy! So there I sat, day in day out, surrounded by the grubby poor I had envisaged serving, looking at their cruddy pots and throwing most of them away (not a way to make them love you – let alone admire your walk of faith!).

Occasionally to break the monotony (believe me, inspecting 50,000 pots out in the open, with only dust, sun and smelly potters for company is monotonous), I’d discover they were cheating and slipping my rejects back into the boxes we were shipping. Then I’d get a chance to express my love for them!

Here, strangely enough, is where the trifecta really begins. My tirades of abuse and pot smashing (along with their attempts to cheat me) brought about a real relationship. We needed each other – I had customers to satisfy – they had families to feed – it was a relationship of mutual need – so we couldn’t just walk away – and in the end we had to be reconciled. After all we had a job to do and neither I nor they could stop until the container was done. So over a soft drink they’d illuminate me as to how white lies (which is what apparently this was) were really okay, let alone culturally appropriate. And I’d illuminate them on how regardless of a potter’s theology of truth, our customers were not so culturally ductile! We began to really communicate!

Over the years these people with whom I fought on a daily basis became trusted (not with their pots) and valued friends. In turn we became trusted members of the communities in which we worked. In many ways we (and our staff) became a part of those communities, bought property and were present day in and day out.

From the income generated from our business, new businesses sprung up, other businesses grew. We were able to develop products specifically to generate employment for women and gradually help our suppliers to understand that acting with integrity and building trust were essential to business success and indeed helpful to all forms of human interaction.

We didn’t get everything our way – we still struggled with our subcontractors employing their children rather than sending them to school, we were threatened by local authorities with having buildings demolished if we didn’t pay bribes. There were enough moral dilemmas to keep a Christian socialist wannabe do-gooder busy for the rest of his life!

Ultimately though, we wanted to see people blessed, not just materially or by living ‘better lives’ (important as these things are) – but we wanted them to experience the transformation that can only occur through meeting Jesus, through experiencing God’s forgiveness and being reconciled to our Father and Creator. But the reality is we didn’t see much harvesting though we did lots of sowing.

In our location, as in many of the societies where Interserve works, there is a kind of ‘faith lock-down’ going on. This is at least partly a result of the trauma these communities are going through as they seek to adjust to the impact of globalisation and development. In the midst of turmoil they cling all the more desperately to the one thing that has not changed (or at least they have some hope of not allowing to change) – their faith. Hence our attempts to persuade them to follow Jesus can easily be perceived more as reckless social vandalism than ‘love in action’. That of course is the great challenge in our post-modern/pre-modern world – to live with such integrity that our oral communication of the gospel only explains what our lives already state.

What we have done, we have sought to do as an outworking of the law of love in our lives. The funny thing is that love can be manifested in inspecting 50,000 pots and rejecting more than half of them – it really can. Because the story of love in this context is about telling the truth in love (being real) – that’s what the gospel is all about I think. About the truth of our circumstances today, tomorrow and in eternity. But it can’t start if you’re not there – sitting in the dust and heat, surrounded by smelly people who begin by thinking that the aim of the game is to pull a quick one over you. It’s a wobbly start, but then that’s life all over!

The author has lived with his family in the Middle East, where he pioneered a successful business. They recently relocated to another BAM project in South Asia; they are currently preparing through a year of intensive language and culture study.

A different path

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Business, Other

I am a business woman working alongside Muslims, not only as a colleague, but also as an employer. I am based in New Zealand, but also conduct business in several Muslim countries. Widowed at the age of 34, with two young children, I never dreamed I would end up here…

My introduction to this world was stumbled upon shortly after our family’s return to New Zealand: we had moved to the outskirts of Auckland, and I had to drive the girls to and from school. One warm, sunny afternoon, returning home from school, I noticed three children walking along the side of the road. Home was obviously quite a distance from school, so I stopped and asked them if they wanted a ride. They looked a little nervous, so to reassure them I gave the oldest child my phone number and suggested meeting their parents to ask their permission.

Shortly after arriving home I received a phone call to say their father was ready to see me! Minutes later I stood knocking on the door of an old farm house. As it opened gingerly, a small black-clothed figure scurried away into the shadows, and there appeared before me a tall, striking Pashtun man. Once inside the house, I was ushered into a bare room where the only furniture consisted of an assortment of old chairs that lined each wall. Male friends of the family were already gathered in the room, waiting to meet me. I was the only woman present. Smiling rather nervously, I took my place, and questions began to flow. Eventually they moved onto the number of children I had, and whether I had a son. On finding out I didn’t have a son and wasn’t planning on having more children, they quickly suggested that my husband would appreciate it if I changed my mind and tried again. I politely thanked them for their concern.

The tension seemed to disperse, though, once they learned my younger daughter’s name: a warm banter bounced from one wall to the other, until it stopped at my host who asked me where I had got her name. He then explained that her name came from the Northern province of their country, the province my host called home! It means ‘brightness’, in particular the brightness of God. Translated, we would call it His Glory – WOW! The warmth of the Holy Spirit touched me as I drove home afterwards, and I sensed this meeting somehow was going to change my life. Muslims? God, are You sure? I didn’t know anything about Muslims, but a door was opening and, curious, I stepped on through.

Unbeknownst to me then, the host would, in time, become my dear friend. I quickly discovered him to be incredibly opinionated: once, losing control in a friendly debate, he exclaimed with intense frustration, “I’m glad I meet you here in NZ, because if I had met you in my country, I may have already put a knife in your back!”

Unsure if he was actually serious or not, I responded with nervous laughter and surprise – “You really are my warrior brother and I love you!” He then broke into a huge smile, delighted by his new title.

My business life started while helping out a Muslim friend in a small retail shop/café, and I realized I had found my passion! When that business was sold, another Muslim friend asked if I’d consider managing a business he was looking at buying, right in the central business district. After much prayer, I agreed to accept the challenge! I am currently one of the directors, with a staff of nine. Most of our staff are Muslim, with the exception of two, but even they grew up in Muslim countries.

At times it’s difficult for my male employees to have a women boss, and equally difficult for me. I don’t believe that I’m actually considered to be totally woman – but I’m definitely not male – I think I’m placed in a category all of my own. This actually has its advantages, as I can move from male to female domains with relative ease, even when I travel in Muslim countries. I do find it interesting that Muhammad’s first wife, Khadija, was a business women, and yet Islam in so many countries discourages female education, let alone female careers!

I acknowledge working on New Zealand turf gives me an easier road than working overseas, but working with people who have completely different value systems still has its challenges. Thankfully the Word of God is full of good advice on how to manage our personal lives, our finances, and how to interact with others. During my first couple of years in business I studied the book of Proverbs – I’d go through a chapter a day. I also became more conscious of the need for the fruit of the Spirit to be daily outworked in my life – I really believe that the ‘fruit of the Spirit’ encapsulates the nature of Immanuel, the Christ we want others to see.

I feel I have been incredibly blessed. There have been many precious afternoons where our tearoom at work has filled with friends who stayed on into the night… lots of eating, drinking, talking and laughter as we shared in each others lives. Often it’s in this warm, friendly hub, as I listen to their stories, that I get to see beyond the gulf of religious and cultural differences, and I see their hearts. As the frustration and busyness of the day melts away, God reminds me of His love for each of them, and His desire to be known by them – what a privilege to have a chair in our tearoom!

We’re quite an interesting bunch, so let me introduce you to some of my business family: the dearest Afghan gentleman, who’s deeply concerned on how to bring both of his wives to New Zealand; the loveable Iranian rogue who hides ‘halal’ whiskey behind the fridge and teases the more dedicated Muslim, who won’t join him in a drink but admits to never buying anything off a Muslim if he can help it; the mocking, hard young man who defends Islam yet lives an immoral life; and the crazy, personable Casanova who has mixed Islam and Buddhism and believes he’s a prophet. You can see why I hesitate when asked to explain what a Muslim believes on a certain topic – telling you what the Qur’an says is no problem, but what individual Muslims believe… that’s different. It’s so important that we get to know and understand each person God has put into our lives as being unique, and not assume we know exactly what they believe just because we can categorise them.

Dabbling cross culturally can initially be somewhat of a romantic and alluring experience. It’s as we move from curiosity to a commitment that we find ourselves stretched uncomfortably at times. My commitment to cross-cultural involvement, and then business, has been the vehicle God has used to unravel my human frailty. It’s been in this place that I have come to understand God’s grace in my life and, in turn, for others, in a far deeper measure. This painful inner transformation has been His greatest gift to me – I thought I was going out to change the world, and ended up seeing the greatest change happen in me!

As believers in God’s unfathomable creativeness in making each of us unique, tailored for His purposes – why do we continue to be surprised when He chooses that different path for us? That warm, sunny afternoon when I thought I was just stopping to offer three children a ride home, I had no idea that God was about to lead me down a path that not many others have journeyed on.

But all followers of Christ are ‘born again’ with that mission to love Him and make Him known – and if business is your business, then that’s obviously the place to make Him known. As Christ-centred business people we can help those around us understand and appreciate justice, the boundaries of freedom, and the many beautiful attributes that can only be experienced in Him.

The author is currently located in New Zealand where she continues to develop her business and shares her life with many in the Muslim community. She also spends time in the Middle East.

Distant thunder and first Spring petals

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Information Technology

“Should we tithe the money we earn from cheating?” This question was put forward by a young local Christian in a Bible study group where a church leader was teaching on tithing.

“If I became a Christian, I would have to become an honest businesswoman – then where would my business be?” asked a woman in another city, who was discussing the implications of becoming a Christian.

These two people demonstrate something both worrying and exciting. It’s exciting to see a non-Christian understand enough of the lifestyle U-turn the gospel asks for that they pause to count the cost – it’s worrying to think of churches scurrying to teach new Christians about practices like tithing when they obviously haven’t spent enough time on some of the basic values Jesus embodied.

Since 2001, we have been running a small software company in this mountainous country of South Asia – we make software that helps keep track of medicines. We consider it to be both fun and interesting… well, actually, only 25% of our family thinks that – the other three can do the eyes-glazed-over thing with aplomb. They’re busy with school and looking after other people though, so don’t need to gain significance from what the male in the family is up to.

Now at this point we’re starting to sound like the average Kiwi family – and in some ways we are. We try to balance work and church life, friends and visitors, and wonder if the kids should spend less time on the computer and more time doing their homework. You’d think that this would allow your average Bruce and Debbie to relate to us, but often it feels like we’re not measuring up to their expectations of what people like us are supposed to be doing: teaching theology; slicing and dicing the sick; watering the thirsty, and stuff like that. We regularly get a response along the lines of – “That’s great about your business, but what are you actually doing for a ministry?”

We often hear mission being expressed as a numbers game – how many people have come to faith? But if that’s the only question asked, then we’re in trouble. We want to see lives being transformed by encountering Jesus – yes, what we believe, but also how we act, what we buy, what we think, how we relate. We want to see lives that are a bit like distant thunder, and a bit like the first spring petals – lives and communities that clearly demonstrate that “the times they are a-changing”, that the world that’s coming is going to be very different to what we know now. We want that sound, that smell, to permeate every area of society – even the business community.

In so many ways (in spite of their “Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood” protestations), the business world is setting the agenda for how the world works, thinks and lives (sometimes that’s good, sometimes it’s a nightmare). It’s no different where we live. It’s a country that has a rapidly growing Christian population, a culture based on distrust, and a rather sick economy. In the midst of this, we’re just one small company trying to do a bit, talk a bit, be a signpost that there’s a different way. For us, being involved with a business as part of one’s calling isn’t a second-rate option. Business is our ‘mission’ – the task we’ve been given – and we’re quite enthusiastic about it.

One of our aims is to develop our staff in their understanding of what it means to follow Jesus in the workplace. We have a mixture of Hindu and Christian staff. We hope that in working with us they’ll have picked up some of the things we care about, things like: valuing people for who they are as well as for what they produce; honesty; and treating our small clients with the same attention we give the large ones.

Once, one of our Christian staff was recounting his experience of a tax inspection at another office he worked in. The tax inspector had caught them running two sets of books – one with GST and one without. “So, what do you do now?” I’d asked, expecting that they’d felt guilty and mended their ways. “We hide the second set much better now,” he informed me. There’s lots to be done to get Christians, as well as Hindus, to understand what following Jesus involves!

We hope we will also be a positive example in our society of a different kind of business. We know we get watched by all sorts of people – clients, officials, other businesses, neighbours (the only people who don’t watch us are the secret police – they’re too busy taking bribes!). We hope that what they see is at least a pale reflection of the One we follow, and a rather strong contrast with the dominant business culture. In all this we get a steady stream of opportunities to explain why we’re doing what we’re doing. In New Zealand it often seems like sex is the trendy topic, and discussing religion is taboo – in our part of the world it’s the other way around!

As well as making software we also want to actually help our clients run their organisations better. Many of them are Christian organisations that work with the most disadvantaged people. A lot of them are doing great things, and can tell you heart-rending stories of poverty and the difference they’re making. However, when it comes to providing their donors and supporters with a good account of where the money’s going, they sometimes struggle.

We also have this wacky idea that even the software itself makes a difference. The use of our software might result in the right medicines being in stock in some remote location, and someone might get better who otherwise wouldn’t have.

There’s a bit of vulnerability in doing business in a developing country – a couple of accusations and $100 under the table can see a visa rescinded. If you’re an employer and a foreigner, you’ll almost never win a court case. We hope that our trust in God in this sort of environment gives a message that following Jesus is more important than minimising risk.

As for the unanswered questions about what we’re doing, they centre around the stories that businesses and business people tell. It’s the story that’s been adopted by our whole Western world – “Study hard to get a good job. Work hard at your good job to earn lots of money. Spend all the money you earn on products that will define you as a person and make your life effortless, enjoyable, envied and elongated.” Of course we Christians know that’s… aah… err… less than accurate, but it’s quite hard to be in business without participating in that lie in some small way. We hope that we express enough truth and grace in what we do that the other messages get ignored!

We do wish that what we do could have a more direct impact on the poor. As much as we wish it wasn’t so, most of our employees are from well-off families – that’s how they got an education. You’ve got to be a stronger believer in the trickle down effect than we are, to feel that will be sufficient.

We’re trying to compensate a bit by supporting two organisations that give scholarships to needy Christians, in the hope that in the coming years there’ll be a sizable group of Christians who love God and their fellow citizens enough to want to transform this society in every aspect – even its business culture!

The author and his family are living in South Asia, where they started their involvement in medical support roles, and have pioneered a Business as Mission venture for a number of years now.