Generalizations About the Poor Overshadow Innovation and Agency

Lisa Cliggett’s Grains From Grass (2005) studies the Gwembe Tonga people of Zambia. This research reveals diverse socioeconomic strategies developed to deal with the complexity of globalization (p. 3). We see development among the Tonga as happening through labor migration, negotiating kinship paradigms of assistance, and religious practice. These forms of finding sustenance can be studied statistically looking at groups but are employed and altered by individuals. Indeed, the individualism demonstrated in various forms of socioeconomic self-preservation counter romantic Western notions of such societies being inherently collectivist and altruistic (p. 2). 

It may seem like a stretch, but this situation made me reflect on my own socioeconomic experience as a missionary from the West. I have spent most of my life outside Southern California where I was born, in two countries – Brazil and Portugal – where supporting myself and my family are much easier with my vocation than back home. Although I come from a Pentecostal tradition that emphasizes divine guidance and prophecy, I believe that my wife and my choice of location has been affected by economic realities. After 16 years in Brazil, my wife and I moved back to Southern California for 3 years but eventually moved on to Portugal. The cost of living in that part of the U.S. was a very real part of our decision to move. We could have stayed in the U.S. but our vocation as missionaries meant this would likely result in a loss of financial support. 

For most missionaries, donations are the main source of income, but increasingly other forms of financial sustainability are sought. This should be done with supporters’ knowledge to preserve accountability and not undermine the validity of a missionary’s appeal for donations. Again, I realize the great different in the Gwembe Tonga experience and my own, but the reality of individual agency versus oversimplified generalizations is shared. I feel that long-term missionaries today are not helped by being given only a few legitimate options for financially supporting their work. 

Cliggett (2005) promotes using a “framework of vulnerability that highlights difference in terms of a group’s resources and its ability to control those resources” that “forces us to develop a more complex vision” of such societies (p. 16). Again, I blush at trying to connect the economic situation of the Gwembe Tonga to my context in Portugal, but I do see some relevance. The Portuguese media constantly discuss the exodus of young people to other parts of Europe looking for better wages (Portugal at a risk of poverty below the EU average, n.d.). A tradesperson, for example, can make 3 or 4 times more in a country like France or Germany. However, diverse groups of immigrants to Portugal are thriving as they compare its economic opportunities to those of former Portuguese colonial nations which they come from (Monteiro, 2024). More recently, increased amounts of immigrants to Portugal are coming from South Asia, who find the country an easier port of entry than other European nations. 

At the same time, Portuguese economists constantly criticize the culture of nepotism and “amigismo” (closing economic circles among friends) as the prime source of its relative poverty and underperformance in Western Europe (Pimentel, 2021). There is no other nation I know in Europe that has an economy like Portugal’s in comparison to its powerful neighbors. As I think of my children’s economic future here in Portugal, I am forced to think of where there are thriving sources of innovation and opportunity. As I look around the metro area of Lisbon where we live, it is obvious that economic prosperity exists here. This is like my experience living in large cities of Brazil. The Brazilian media constantly spoke of the lack of economic opportunities in the nation in comparison to other countries. However, in these huge, teeming metropolises I was aware of millions of people who were finding a way to survive and often thrive. Cliggett’s work encourages me to look beyond the media portrayal of national economics which always makes money off bad news. As a missionary, I believe Cliggett’s work provides encouragement towards a rejection of negative economic stereotypes of the nations we serve. 

Now I will proceed gears to the second discussion prompt regarding gendered land ownership and accusations of witchcraft. I believe it is possible that Gwembe Tonga women may be accused as bulozi(witches) because of increased access to land inheritance from husbands. Elderly men are believed to engage in sorcery to “manipulate the supernatural world for human goals” (Cliggett, 2005, p. 131). Sorcery is believed to be the cause of sickness and death to their relatives (p. 134), and land inheritance disputes are common to so many cultures. Elderly men’s use of mystical powers sometimes backfires, resulting in witch hunts aiming to cleanse the community of evil and unfair practices (p. 136). Therefore, I think it is reasonable to assume that elderly women’s empowerment related to land makes them vulnerable to accusations of witchcraft like elderly men. 

References

Cliggett, L. (2005). Grains from grass: Aging, gender, and famine in rural Africa. Cornell University Press.

Pimentel, A. H., Marina. (2021, December 23). Maria José Morgado: “Cultura de impunidade, nepotismo e amiguismo tem feito de Portugal um país pobre e atrasado.” PÚBLICO. 

Portugal at a risk of poverty below the EU average. (n.d.). Retrieved October 9, 2024, from https://www.portugal.gov.pt/en/gc23/communication/news-item?i=portugal-at-a-risk-of-poverty-below-the-eu-average

Monteiro, C. (2024, April 16). Migração: Factos e Números 2024. EAPN. https://www.eapn.pt/centro-de-documentacao/migracao-factos-e-numeros-2024/

Do Traditional Cultures Still Exist?

Cliggett’s Intent and Purpose in Writing Grains from Grass

            Lisa Cliggett’s Grains from Grass (2005) studies the Tonga people of the Gwembe Valley in Southern Zambia. Her findings can speak to Western readers who are disillusioned with the individualism of their own societies. This disappointment motivates many Westerners to search for cultures that still honor the sacredness of the family (p. 1). But Cliggett disabuses Western readers of such a stereotype in her study of the Tonga people. In this community, diverse systems of collaboration, generosity, and charity exist based not primarily on “moral duty or altruistic sentiments” but on “necessity in the face of limited choices”. Of particular interest to this research is the relevance of gender-specific survival modes. Cliggett explores family dynamics related to survival in economically vulnerable communities. She discovers the significance of kinship networks for combating poverty and injustice. Cliggett’s understanding of vulnerability considers differences in access and control of resources among different members of Tonga society. Her findings correct simplistic notions regarding impoverished nations, let alone a continent such as Africa (Cliggett, 2005, p. 2-19). 

            Cliggett (2005) investigates the ways that older women and men in the Gwembe Valley interact with a relational world acutely affected by scarcity of resources (p. 22). And this research explores the ways family and community provide for or ignore the needs of elderly women and men in ways not obvious to an outside observer. The purpose of such analysis is to correct oversimplified visions of social problems in Africa on the one hand, as well as ingenuous ideas of the noble altruism of African families. It is argued that care for the elderly needy is not a natural phenomenon to any human society whether industrialized and modern or agricultural and traditional. A more nuanced vision of the multifaceted process of decision making in relation to helping needy family members is needed. This helps societies worldwide to be wiser about the connection between family relationships, poverty, and globalization. Thus, Cliggett addresses naïve Western notions of former times and other places where the support of family members simply flowed out of the goodness of human nature. Caring for the elderly is not a “natural” component of non-industrialized societies, which begs the question, “Where can we find positive examples of this behavior?” Cliggett’s aim to identify differences – “gender, class, generational or historical” – amidst generalizations about “poor and disaster prone” peoples, yields a more comprehensive view of our world’s complex reality. The result is a framework that ties together the agency of the individual, kinship economic models, and long-term analysis of at-risk populations. Cliggett (2005) hopes this will produce theoretical concepts which give “broader meaning” to the phenomena social science research observes in vulnerable communities (Cliggett, 2005, p. 22-75). 

The Resource Bases of Elderly Tonga Women and their Strategies to Access Them

            Cliggett (2005) gives a general description of Gewmbe villagers’ economic situation as consisting of resource ownership, small entrepreneurialism, government assistance, and wage employment (p. 80). In times of economic adversity all these factors are used by individuals in ways that reflect their gender, age, social networks, and the “capacity to negotiate relationships” for survival (p. 80). 

Cliggett (2005) found that women made the adjustment to old age with less disruption, and even with positive expectations regarding its potential benefits. Tonga society practices matrilineal kinship in which primary family identity is shared between women and their children (p. 20). Perhaps surprisingly, in this system widowhood or divorce can give women new freedom to work autonomously, or preferably to be supported from the households of their adult children. Thus, elderly women’s means of survival are connected to their maternal identity in relation to the children they spent their lives sacrificing for and serving. Matrilineal kinship strongly influences how the Tonga people strategize for obtaining resources. But this social system is not tidy, rather, individuals must make compromises and bargain creatively (Cliggett, 2005, p. 19-20). 

Women have been excluded from significant sources of sustenance and have therefore formed innovative means for self-perseveration in old age (Cliggett, 2015, p. 64). Women have less access than men to resources that can be used to generate income, but the former employ diverse types of “craft and service-oriented skills”. The primary way elderly Gwembe women provide for themselves is developing social networks from which they can receive food and other goods. As Gwembe women advance in age, they hope these strategically built relationships can help them procure food, housing, service, and general needs. The most precarious situation for an elderly woman is if she has no close adult male kin who can provide help (Cliggett, 2015, p. 83-108). 

The Resource Bases of Elderly Tonga Men and their Strategies to Access Them

            Tonga men tend to hold on to their position of social power as they age and cannot work the fields and care for themselves (Cliggett, 2015, p. 19). As stated earlier, matrilineal kinship means fathers do not share primary family identity with their children. In this family model, elderly men mitigate against disenfranchisement by exerting their right to adult son’s labor and through bride price, the amount paid for daughters. Despite men’s lack of shared clan identity with wives and children, they do have kinship roles giving them control over resources at the level of the nuclear family. Thus, men’s relationships with their offspring are largely based on formal rights. Women’s relationship with their adult children, on the other hand, depends on connection through kinship and the ties of the “mother-child experience”. By the time they become elderly, men have generally been able to accumulate an amount of wealth which can be used to support themselves. And in a polygamous society, an elderly man is likely to have at least one living wife residing in his home who can care for him (Cliggett, 2015, p. 20-38). 

Tonga men are more able than women to clear new bush fields and a man’s inheritance is traditionally passed on to male heirs. Therefore, predominant male ownership of land has been perpetuated over several generations (Cliggett, 2015, p. 65). Cash-producing activities that men have access to include selling agricultural tools they make, milk from cattle, and garden produce. Men can also offer their services in home construction, brickmaking, and other forms of manual labor. By the time a man is older, one reason his need for such forms of small income decreases is because of accumulated resources. A second reason is that a man’s dependents, such as daughters soon to marry and sons with incomes of their own, will provide additional resources. It is through residential arrangements with extended family members that most elderly men receive the bulk of their food and have their basic needs met (Cliggett, 2015, p. 83-97). 

The idea of a father receiving and “income” from his adult children seems strange to a Westerner like me who prizes independence and would see a parent being supported in such a way as a sign of failing to achieve independence. But from a Zambian perspective, such an arrangement can be seen as a form of retirement at the end of a life lived in significant part to supporting offspring.

How Such Strategies Relate to Elderly Men and Women’s Connections to the “Ritual World”

            In Africa, roughly a century of European slave trade followed by a century of industrialization and colonization have deeply affected “social, economic, and belief systems” (Cliggett, 2015, p. 53). In Zambia, differences in how global economic vulnerability has affected different regions produced richer and poorer regions. Seasonal fluctuation of food availability has led to agricultural migration, profoundly altering people’s connection to their land. This in turn has undermined the importance of ritual institutions and their leaders, elderly men (Cliggett, 2015, p. 56-62). 

            The funeral homestead is a “market of sorts” where people exchange and sell as well as singing funeral songs and developing relational networks, i.e. catching up on local gossip and current events (Cliggett, 2015, p. 82). Thus, a wide range of goods could be found by villagers and visitors at these recurring rural markets. Women’s participation in religious funeral rights is fundamental in the form of food preparation. The preparation of food is empowering to women, in fact the funeral period officially ends when the women finish clearing out the fire ovens (Cliggett, 2-15, p. 82-121). 

            Christianity has grown in the Gwembe valley, but the elderly population is not a significant presence in church life (Cliggett, 2015, p. 117). I wonder if elderly men and women do not see as much of the benefits of Christianity as a theology and community versus the younger more entrepreneurial population. The Pentecostal type of Christianity that has been so influential in Africa is highly individualistic, emphasizing God’s intervention in the life of the individual, the potential to receive his blessing on finances and health. Perhaps the elderly see this as not contributing to the traditional cultural and social institutions that benefit them, or worse, perhaps they see them as threatening. Ancestor worship is a traditional part of indigenous Tonga religious practice, and I am curious how different Christian denominations have interacted with this practice. 

            Men are seen as having agency regarding the spirit world in a direct way while women are beset upon by spirits, at times harmlessly but in some cases dangerously (Cliggett, 2015, p. 132). Women can use the cultural belief that they are vulnerable to possession by evil spirits as a means for requesting help (p. 140). A situation of spiritual attack makes an elderly woman victim a sympathetic plight for members of her kinship network. 

Some Effects of Migration on Traditional Kinship Support Paradigms

            Economic pressures and opportunities lead many of the Tonga people to migrate away from their home villages. But connections with family back home are generally maintained, not through remittances but sporadic gifts. Such contributions would not amount to a reliable or significant source of income (Cliggett, 2015, p. 148). And for those who migrate, making their new lives work is the main priority. The imposition of requests for help from visitors from a migrant’s home village makes greater distance helpful. The farther migrants move away, the more of a “buffer from such impositions” exists. The best way a visitor from back home can obtain a gift from a prosperous migrant relative is to make the request in person. Often the gift request is attended to, and sometimes at significant cost to the giver. But the gift is based on the nature of the interaction and is not a given, therefore the person requesting goes to great efforts to be gracious and diplomatic. Such gifts do not amount to a reliable source of income for villagers who remain back home. At best these contributions are a helpful part of a village’s economic system, but not a main source. If a migrant does not maintain ties with his or her home village, there is also a downside. This will result in being cut off from social ties to the home village and material, emotional, and spiritual benefits it can offer (Cliggett, 2015, p. 152-5).

Conclusion

            Cliggett (2005) makes a compelling argument that simplistic stereotypes of the drama and needs of the African people result in misguided endeavors to save victims and solve problems without tackling foundational causes (p. 48). The “framework of vulnerability” approach rightly advocates for multifaceted research on issues such as environmental crises, access to food, and kinship. This approach mitigates against tendencies in the social sciences to generalize about the circumstances of all members of a village, region, or nation (p. 49). I agree with the notion that at-risk populations’ foundational problem is relational. And each member of a family negotiates for resources within the kinship network with differing “desires, abilities, and power” (p. 50). 

I understand the need to find out who copes better or worse among vulnerable populations. First, those who cope poorly can learn from those who have innovated, negotiated, strategized, and succeeded. Second, I appreciate the importance of determining what unjust phenomena may be creating situations of inequality of coping. Thirdly, it is vital simply to determine who the poorest copers are to target them as those in greatest need. 

            Cliggett’s work demonstrates that support is channeled through “continually negotiated social networks” in different ways by elderly men and women (p, 158). With the participation of multiple family members in the chain of resources, a decision or failure to perform by any individual threatens the entire system. Cliggett (2004) demonstrates how individual’s in the Gwembe valley are able not only to survive but to prosper (p. 167). This account of individual human agency in poor communities emphasizes the endeavor to progress and flourish contra the caricature of acquiescence and acceptance of poverty. Cliggett’s work effectively counters the error of overly attributing worldview – how people think in sweeping generic national-ethnic terms – instead of observing reality of experience and agency on the ground (p. 167). I agree with the general position of this work as it posits that the most simple and foundational method of combatting the reductive tendency towards sociocultural analysis is the place the target community in “center stage” (p. 168), rather than giving too much credence to stereotypes and generalizations about vulnerable peoples such as the Tonga of the Gwembe valley. 

References

Cliggett, L. (2005). Grains from grass: Aging, gender, and famine in rural Africa. Cornell University Press.

Anthropology has Moved on, Should Missiology?

Claude Stipe’s (1980) analysis of anthropologists’ negative attitudes towards missionaries is based on two prevalent assumptions. These are that “primitive cultures are characterized by an organic unity and that religious beliefs are essentially meaningless” (p. 166). Based on functionalism, the organic-unity concept sees primitive cultures as possessing an internal equilibrium and integrity. Therefore, unless internally motivated, cultural change amounts to “upsetting a delicate machine” (Colson, 1976, p. 267). This anthropological perspective posits that options are bad for pristine ancient cultures. But inconsistently, options are good for the West to “free ourselves, and our peers, from constraining tradition” (Colson, 1976, p. 276). 

The religion as meaningless concept can be connected to the experience of most early anthropological writers on religion. Not surprisingly, this was negative, and probably led to their subsequent attitudes towards religion (Stipe, 1980, p. 167). By discrediting primitive religion as “outmoded superstition” of a prescientific age (Evans-Pritchard, 1972, p. 205), higher religions can also be dismissed (Stipe, 1980, p. 167). The religion as meaningless position holds that its study should focus “on the rites rather than the beliefs” (Radcliffe-Brown, 1952, p. 155). Since religion does not produce an integrating theory of the world, human experience of the divine can be dismissed as a manifestation of the “supreme archetypal social relationship” (Horton, 1971, p. 96). This would explain anthropologists dislike of missionaries, who take seriously the religious beliefs of the cultures they encounter which anthropologists have rejected (Stipe, 1980, p. 168). 

A more helpful attitude today on the part of both missionaries and anthropologists has been proposed. Since both hold positions regarding truth and a desire to protect the people they work among, missionaries and anthropologists can build relations based on these similarities (Salamone, 1977, p. 409). 

The concept of culture as “homogenous and patterned” and attempts to totalize culture “from one small community into a country and even a continent” has led missiologists to an exaggerated focus on understanding and changing worldview (Yip, 2014, p. 401). Globalization has led to a view of cultures as fragmented and non-discrete, overlapping each other resulting in a lack of clear-cut boundaries (Yip, 2014, p. 403). Postmodern missiologies are needed that focus on the multicultural and diasporic (Yip, 2014, p. 403). A helpful anthropology of religion is bricolage – that a person’s beliefs are a loose assortment of diverse sources (Vroom, 2003, p. 74). Based on postmodern concepts of instrumentalism and idealism, a missiology can be formed that recognizes the limitations to scientifically knowing the cultural “other” whether such a reality exists (Hiebert, 1999, p. 51,37,38). Yip’s (2014) polythetic and progressive contextualization helpfully recognizes the variations and exceptions present in any culture (p. 408). This approach recognizes the presence of diverse subgroups within a culture as well as its constant mutation (p. 409). 

Another helpful suggestion for missiology within a global community constantly in flux is that the field of study be placed within applied theology (Rynkiewich, 2020, p. 336). This subfield sees to “utilize anthropological knowledge and skill for practical human needs” (Luzbetak, 1988, p. 34). By observing applied anthropology in other fields such as medicine, missiologists can identify different critical phases (Rynkiewich, 2020, p. 341). Medical anthropology progressed from assuming that culture was the problem to the people are the problem. Finally, the conclusion was reached that we are the problem (Rynkiewich, 2020, p. 338). The first two phases can be seen in missiology up to present, but not the third critical phase, that we are the problem (Rynkievich, 2020, p. 340-1). Returning to Yip’s (2013) polythetic and progressive contextualization approach, postmodern missions training should focus on teaching research methods and data analysis (Rynkiewich, 2020, p. 343-4). Challenges to contextualization include migration, cultural hybridity, multilingualism, and multiculturalism (Rynkiewich, 2020, p. 345), all of which require a missiology focused on constant inquiry and adjustment of theory and praxis. 

References

Colson, Elizabeth (1976). Culture and progress. American Anthropologist, 78:261-71.

Evans-Pritchard, E.E. (1972). Religion and the anthropologists. Practical Anthropology, 19:193-206. (Originally published in Blackfriars 41[480]:104-18, April 1960.)

Hiebert, P.G. (1999) Missiological Implications of Epistemological Shifts. Trinity Press International.

Horton, Robin. 1971. African conversion. Africa 41.

Luzbetak, Louis J. (1988). The Church and Cultures: New Perspectives in Missiological Anthropology. Orbis Books

Radcliffe-Brown, A. R. (1952). “Religion and society,” in Structure and function in primitive society. Edited by A. R. Radcliffe-Brown, Free Press.

Rynkiewich, Michael A. (2020). The Challenge of Teaching Mission in an Increasingly Mobile and Complex World. International Bulletin of Mission Research, Vol. 44(4) 

Salamone, Frank A. (1977). Anthropologists and missionaries: Competition or reciprocity? Human Organization, 36.

Stipe, Claude E. (1980). Anthropologists versus Missionaries: The Influence of Presuppositions. Current Anthropology, Vol. 21, No. 2

Vroom, H.M. (2003). Bricolage and fullness: on multiple participation. In Daneel I, Engen C Van

and Vroom HM (eds) Fullness of Life for All: Challenges for Mission in Early 21st Century. Rodopi

Yip, George (2014). The contour of a post- postmodern missiology. Missiology: An International Review, Vol. 42(4)

Downtrodden Victims or Resilient Adaptors?

Intent and Purpose of Shaw’s Study of Oxford Pakistanis

Alison Shaw (2000) seeks to counter any notion that Pakistani immigrants in Oxford, England are fundamentally “the downtrodden victims of political, economic and social processes beyond their control” (p. 3). On the contrary, evidence is given that these immigrants are flexible and resilient in adapting to the “structural and cultural resources” they find in Britain. With these assets, Pakistanis have improvised and constructed their lives “on their own terms”. Shaw’s (2000) goal is to demonstrate “both continuity and change” in the experience of this community. Coming from rural agrarian contexts, these immigrants are confronted with the contrasts of industrial urban life. But they adapt “quite easily” to these material changes, proving quite capable of maintaining their traditional beliefs and values (p. 3-4). 

Shaw (2000) gives particular attention to perceptions in Brittain of Pakistani women – now in their third generation – versus the reality of their lives (p. 5). In the West, an emphasis on duty is generally seen as detracting from individual freedom. But even the younger generation of Pakistani immigrants values “advantages and satisfactions” that accompany duty (p. 7-8). 

Contrary to generalizations in Brittain regarding South Asian immigrants, Shaw’s (2000) research indicates this community’s significant internal diversity. Shaw (2000) argues that seeing them as a “homogenous group with a common culture” complies with the political agenda of a white majority concerted about competition for resources (p. 10). These Pakistanis identify their native culture, including their ancestral region, caste, or linguistic group. But they come to identify with much of British culture as well. The aspect of a Pakistani’s identity that is emphasized in each moment – “whether it is more or less exclusive” – depends on the context (p. 10).

How Kinship Influences Behavior and Attitudes 

Family structure allowed the first generation of Pakistani migration, for a man’s parents could be trusted to take care of his wife and children as he went abroad. Families would encourage this type of arrangement for the benefit of remittances that would benefit immediate kin at home (Shaw, 2000, p. 23). Chain migrationrefers to the practice of relatives pooling cash to sponsor one man who would in turn facilitate the way for his kinsmen. This help would include finding housing and employment, resulting in a cluster of related men from the same region of Pakistan (p. 27). This practice mitigated against the high probability of South Asians being rejected by white English landlords (p. 40). 

For the first several years, multi-occupational lodgings were the most common arrangement for male Pakistani immigrants (p. 42). When housing was purchased by Pakistanis, it was often through relatives pooling their resources. And these kinship groups also embarked upon partnerships in business, even offering interest-free loans or participating in rotating credit associations (p. 51). In ancestral Pakistani communities, relatives tended to live in adjacent dwellings and villages were formed by kinship groups (p. 69). At the end of the 19th century, the British built villages where Muslim, Hindu and Sikh colonizers were incentivized to settle in sections according to their cast (p. 71).

How Gender Influences Behavior and Attitudes 

The premium placed on female virginity at marriage has numerous effects upon how young men and women relate to peers, their education, and marriage (Shaw, 2000, p. 168). Sons receive far more leniency in general from their parents, having fewer domestic responsibilities and spending most leisure time outside the home (p. 168). Socially acceptable activities for sons include helping their father’s business, frequenting the mosque, or spending time with other young men. These colleagues may be of diverse ethnic backgrounds: other South Asians, English, or Afro-Caribbeans (p. 168). And though Pakistani parents do not closely monitor their sons’ activities, the latter are expected to keep an eye on their sisters (p. 168). 

A daughter’s responsibilities have direct bearing upon the reputation of the men in her family. This means men must defend the honor of the women in their family, whether it be their own misbehavior or any affront they may suffer (Shaw, 2000, p. 169). An implicit double-standard often exists for Pakistani men in relation to sexual promiscuity. While women in their family are expected to be chaste, all women outside a man’s family can be seen as potential sexual partners (p. 169). Pakistani men who date English girls often do not see this as disobedience to the expectation that they will eventually accept an arranged marriage. English girls are outside Pakistani cultural norms related to marriage and are therefore considered “sexually available” (p. 170). 

Daughters have increasingly negotiated permission from their parents to pursue higher education and the development of careers outside the home (Shaw, 2000, p. 179). Such negotiations involve a daughter’s commitment to fulfilling the traditional duties of a wife in the future. And once a Pakistani daughter is married, families increasingly see her ability to make a good income outside the home as helpful to the success of the marriage (p. 179). 

How Marriage Influences Behavior and Attitudes 

Despite fascination in British society over the punishment of Pakistani daughters who elope with white men, Shaw’s (2000) research only found such cases involving other Pakistanis, South Asians, or Muslim men (p. 161-2). Elopements by Pakistani sons and daughters may lead to the complete severing of ties with family. Girls who do not honor marriage norms – such as finding a husband within their caste or family circles – are seen as denying their fathers the privilege of giving them away respectfully. But young people who reject arranged marriages usually don’t see this as a “wholesale rejection” of traditional values in favor of Western ones. Rather, these Pakistani youth see their actions as an “attempt at reform from within” (p. 185, 186, 189).

How Gift-Giving Influences Behavior and Attitudes 

Married women follow the traditional custom of playing the major role in sustaining the relationships of “informal reciprocity” as well as formal relationships of “gift exchange between households” (Shaw, 2000, p. 227-8). The practice of gift giving is a feature of a wife’s engagement in rituals and events of the domestic life cycle (p. 228). Gifts given at weddings, birthday parties, or dinner invitations involve some “expectation of return” (p. 228). Types of gifts are considered appropriate for specific occasions, such as sweets for the birth of a baby and money for a wedding or when a family will travel abroad (p. 238, 241). 

Both Pakistani men and women understand that these types of gifts will result in similar help from the community when the occasion arises for them (p. 241). This can be described as a form of “rotating credit, though with a less predictably timed outcome” (p. 241). Reciprocities like these exert a form of “social and moral control” as a means for evaluating the status of an individual or household (p. 256). And the occasions in which gift giving takes place are also the context for “exchange of news and gossip”, not merely on banalities but important matters such as marriage prospects or disputes in the mosque (p. 256). 

Conclusion

Shaw (2000) effectively demonstrates that Pakistani immigrants in Oxford, England preserve much individual and collective agency while engaging the majority culture. They would not have come to England from their ancestral lands if they did not believe there would be significant social and material benefits. Indeed, they were acquainted with British culture through colonialism. This meant that Pakistanis coming to the Empire’s headquarters were well-informed on much of what they would face. These immigrants counted the cost and demonstrated organization and strategical ingenuity at every step of their transition to life in Britain. Shaw’s (2000) study leaves one wondering who influenced the other more culturally – the British upon the colonized Pakistanis, or vice versa. And in the decadence of Western culture due to an overemphasis on individualism, one wonders how increasingly attractive and influential collectivist South Asian cultures will become.

References

Alison Shaw. (2000). Kinship and Continuity: Pakistani Families in Britain. Routledge. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=nlebk&AN=696804&authtype=sso&custid=s6133893&site=ehost-live&custid=s6133893

What Ancient Societies Teach us about Giving?

Can Contemporary Societies Learn from Ancient Economic Systems

            The Gift is as an excerpt from Marcel Mauss’ (2000) studies of economic systems in primitive societies (p. 3). Among diverse social phenomenon, the book addresses the question “What rule of legality and self-interest, in societies of a backward or archaic type, compels the gift that has been received to be obligatorily reciprocated” (Mauss, 2000, p. 4). Mauss (2000) contends that the market is a human phenomenon common to all societies, but with differing systems (p. 5). Mauss seeks to explore how the market functioned before modern forms of contract and sale to shed light on how primordial forms of “morality and organization still function in our own societies”. It is hoped that this inquiry may yield helpful conclusions regarding contemporary challenges related to modern economic systems (Mauss, 2000, p. 5). By exploring “primitive” economic institutions still extant today, we can better understand how our modern societies developed (Mauss, 2000, p. 60). Indeed, Mauss (2000) intends to show how modern systems of law and economies emerged from archaic ones (p. 61). 

Examples of “Archaic” or “Primitive” Societies and Activities

            In ancient Germanic societies, a system of exchange was “clearly defined and well developed” by which clans, tribes, and kings made and maintained alliances (p. 77-8). The obligation to reciprocate was known as the angebinde, and the term gaben refers to gifts given on special occasions that the whole village participated (p. 78). Transactions resulted in each part possessing something of the other, creating a bond by virtue of the inherent power of the object (p. 79). The significance of this obligation is expressed in the fact that diverse Germanic languages have a term for gift that also implies poison (p. 81). A ubiquitous theme in Germanic folklore is the “fatal gift, the present or item of property that is changed into poison” (p. 81). 

In classical Hindu societies, the danadharma – “law of the gift” – determined the duty of giving among the elite Brahmin class (Mauss, 2000, p. 70). A gift generates an equivalent reward for the giver in this life and an increased reward in the next life (Mauss, 2000, p. 72). Gifts are personified as “living creatures with whom one enters into a dialogue”, who desire to be given away and with whom an agreement is established (Mauss, 2000, p. 72). A Brahmin’s property is identified with himself, which can visit harm upon a transgressor (Mauss, 2000, p. 73). Many sanctions exist related to gift giving, such as being directed to another member of the Brahmin caste (p. 73). Brahmins take care to avoid residual benefits from receiving a gift because this makes him dependent on the donor, which would be demeaning (p. 75-6). Thus, “all kinds of archaic precautions are taken” so that “no error is committed” in the gift giving (p. 77). 

            In traditional Chinese law, an unalterable link exists between a think and its original owner (p. 81). Therefore, even after an item has been passed on, a contracted alliance puts the giver or seller and receiver or buyer in “perpetual dependence towards one another” (p. 82). 

Promising Paradigms from Antiquity for Modern Economic Systems

            Mauss sees as “fortunate” the fact that the “atmosphere of the gift” still exists in modern societies, so that everything is not defined in terms of “buying and selling” (p. 83). By analyzing ancient societies, Mauss seeks to demonstrate that charity is still “wounding for him who has accepted it”, “we must give back more than we have received”, and “things sold still have soul” (p. 83-4). The Gift argues that the “old principles react against the rigor, abstraction, and inhumanity” of modern legal codes (p. 85), and contemporary social security schemes represent attempts to return to a “group morality” (p. 87). Mauss promotes such a new morality as consisting of a “moderate blend of reality and the ideal”, amounting to a return to elements of archaic society (p. 88). Listed among the benefits of such a proposal are joy in public giving, generous sponsorship of the arts, hospitality, and private and public celebrations (p. 89). 

            Mauss advocates for a return to a time when man was not a calculating, utilitarian machine (p. 98). The most beneficial economy is not to be found in the “calculation of individual needs” which ends up harming the peace of all, ultimately rebounding upon the individual themself (p. 98). Only by considering society as an integral entity can we perceive what is essential (p. 102). The progress of societies has depended on their success in “stabilizing relationships, giving, receiving, and finally, giving in return” (p. 105). This positive development has occurred as far as societies, subgroups, and individuals succeeded in “stabilizing relationships, giving, receiving, and finally, giving in return” (p. 105). 

            Ancient economic systems teach us that societies built of clans, tribes, and elites can learn to “oppose and to give to one another without sacrificing themselves to one another” (p. 106). The principles of wisdom and solidarity found in the ancient societies Mauss’ studied represent a primordial morality for economic systems (p. 106). Mauss sees the possibility of recovering a balance of both individual and common endeavor as well as the accumulation and redistribution of wealth. Such harmony is possible only through a society-wide education program that encourages “mutual respect and reciprocating generosity” (p. 106). Mauss’ defends the value of researching “civics”, i.e., the “aesthetic, moral, religious, and economic motivations”, and “diverse material and demographic factors” which form the shared life of a society (p. 107). 

References

Mauss, M. (2000). The Gift: The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies. Routledge Classics.

Why Giving Causes Tension Among Friends?

Christians consider generosity to be a virtue, meaning something that is freely given and voluntary. But as someone who has served in ministry for the past 3 decades, I’ve seen how tensions between giver and receiver are common. Marcel Mauss’ (2000) The Gift explores cases of lack of gratitude as based on the error of thinking free gifts can exist. For example, a donor should not intend to be exempt from return gifts coming from the receiver. Refusing reciprocation places gift giving outside the possibility of mutual connection. In this text I comment briefly on how Mauss’ work can be applied to missionary service. 

Mauss’ (2000) anthropological research on gift giving in archaic societies and its relevance to contemporary economic systems has interesting applications to my work as a missionary. Specifically, I find Mauss’ work relevant to the challenge missionaries face today in light of postcolonialism. Willie Jennings (2010) descries the arrogant and egotistical approach to giving and receiving of Western missions during colonialism: 

Adaptability, fluidity, formation, and reformation of being were heavily weighted on the side of indigenes as their requirement for survival. As Christianity developed both in the old world of Europe and in the new worlds of the

Americas, Asia, and Africa, it was no longer able to feel this tragic imbalance. Indeed, it is as though Christianity, wherever it went in the modern colonies, inverted its sense of hospitality. It claimed to be the host, the owner of the spaces it entered, and demanded native peoples enter its cultural logics, its ways of being in the world, and its conceptualities. (p. 8)

The legacy of Western missions is ambiguous, the negative aspects of which I am unavoidably connected. In relation to Mauss’ work, one such liability lies in the church’s posture as host and owner even as it invaded the homelands of ancient peoples. I do not subscribe to a notion of a noble savage or pristine indigenous societies that were not connected to their own histories of ethnic competition, conquest, displacement, and genocide. However, I do believe part of missionaries’ task of addressing our colonial past is re-articulating a Christian vision of economic systems. In this endeavor, Mauss’ (2000) work is helpful. 

According to Greene (2024), gift giving is an essential aspect of social relations, involving three types of reciprocity: generalized (based on assumption that immediate return isn’t expected), balanced (explicit expectation of equivalent return near future), and negative (intentionally getting something for nothing such as gabling or cheating). 

Mauss (2000) describes some of the archaic economic systems he studied as existing prior to the emergence of societies where man was turned into a calculating, utilitarian machine (p. 98). In these ancient societies consisting of various groups, alliances were established and maintained through systems of exchange. Through transactions both parties accepted mutual obligation because of the inherent power resident in specific objects. According to Mauss, these primitive economies reflect a vision of society as an integral entity. In such a society, success depends on stabilizing relationships rather than each individual pursuing their own ends (p. 78,78, 98). However, Mauss’ may be critiqued for selecting societies to prove his theory and for portraying them in a naive, idyllic manner (Greene, 2024). 

Mauss (2000) envisions a return to ancient economic systems where both individual and group objectives are balanced and where accumulated wealth is redistributed (p. 106). I promote interfaith dialogue and partnership as a central aspect of postsupersessionist missions. Therefore, Mauss’ work on gift giving yields helpful principles related to intergroup partnership. Postsupersessionist missions involves identifying ourselves as pilgrims and witnesses rather than the exclusive people of God. This exclusivity was a central part of supersessionism’s Gentile appropriation of biblical promises and callings uniquely attributed to the Jews. It is not incorrect for the church to affirm its identity as the people of God. But Christianity’s association with Western imperialism and colonialism creates a need for language that repudiates the sordid legacy of these political and religious phenomena. I suggest the use of terms such as pilgrims, witnesses, and disciples to describe Christian groups. The concept of divine election should be treated as a mystery to be reflected upon within the church rather than a badge visible to outsiders. I believe the election of the Jewish people and the church of Christ is a biblical doctrine that should not be rejected. However, the concept of election is not meant to give groups ideas of superiority and inspire practices of exclusion. 

Mauss’ (2000) vision of society-wide education that fosters reciprocal respect and generosity can inform Christian endeavors to promote the role of interfaith dialogue in missions practice. Missiologists do well to study civics, which Mauss describes as a society’s “aesthetic, moral, religious, and economic motivations”, as well as “diverse material and demographic factors”. Surely such anthropological and sociological research can help the church become part of a shared project of societal development (Mauss, 2000, p. 107).  

References

Greene, Katrina (2024). Introductory Videos: Fall 2024: Social Anthropology ISAN751-01. (n.d.). Retrieved September 12, 2024, from https://biola.instructure.com/courses/58516/pages/introductory-videos?module_item_id=1167199

Jennings, W. J. (2010). The Christian imagination: Theology and the origins of race. Yale University Press; 

Mauss, M. (2000). The Gift: The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies. Routledge Classics.

Missionaries are Migrant Workers

Mission as a By-Product of Migration

Missiologist Martha Frederiks (2022) makes the strong claim that “mission as a by-product of migration” may be as significant to the global spread of Christianity as deliberate missions (p. 670). And the effects of migration on mission have been both positive and negative. This is based on an understanding of mission that goes beyond evangelism to include “diakonia, healing, reconciliation, presence, interfaith relations, and advocacy” (Bosch, 1991; Bevans & Schroeder, 2004; Corrie et al., 2007). Migration itself has many different definitions and is central to political debates. 

Thus, a discussion of the relationship of migration to missions is controversial (Frederiks, 2022, p. 672). The term migrant is often used as a form of othering, a “process whereby individuals and groups are treated and marked as different and inferior from the dominant social group” (Griffin, 2017). The information gleaned from interviewing migrants often ignores the probability that they don’t feel safe giving information about their experiences. Evangelism can often be seen as exploiting the vulnerability of displaced peoples. And research into migrants is predominantly done in the West, from a Western perspective. With these considerations in mind, it is undeniable that missions have been promoted through “mercantile networks, settler communities, and other forms of group migration” (Frederiks, 2022, p. 672-673). 

The term refugee has been described as migrants in foreign lands who are “unable or unwilling to return to their country of origin owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion” (Refugees, n.d.). Missiologist Sam George states that although persecution and refugee movements have been “strategic inflection points in the history of Christianity” the current phenomena of displacement will “reshape the future of Christianity” (Adeney, 2018). 

Although cultural diversity is nothing new, increasingly even the most traditionally homogenous societies are experiencing the pressures of pluralism. In her study of forced migration, missiologist Cindy Wu (2022) studied how the church has responded to forced migration. She found that in Houston, Texas, “one of the top resettlement cities in the country”, most Christians were unaware of neighbor refugee communities. Wu (2022) found that it was easy for Christians to “isolate of occupy themselves away” from peculiar communities in their cities (p. 52-53).

Migration and Mission in Scripture and Church History

Although Christian migrants have historically proven to be effective spreaders of the gospel, this is not a given. In many cases Christian migrant’s disempowered and marginal status neutralized their influence. And the conversion of migrants to Christianity can often be seen as harmful because it enabled colonial oppression (Frederiks, 2022, p. 674). The legacy of mission and migration is ambiguous. The Jewish diaspora formed the network through which the gospel spread from Judea. The gospel spread to Germanic tribes north of the Roman Empire through their invasions and kidnapping of Christian women. And Orthodox Christianity spread as Slavic masses migrated to Central Europe (Frederiks, 2022, p. 675). 

To counter accusation of exploitation, practical forms of mission to migrants emerged that go beyond relief work to include social action and justice advocacy (Frederiks, 2022, p. 676). This aligns with the biblical injunction that the Israelites show impartiality and justice by providing for the material needs of diplaced peoples (Deut. 1:17; 24:14, 17; 27:19; Lev 19:9–10). Ecumenicists dealing with mission and migration have emphasized hospitality as the preferred motif of Christian witness (Frederiks, 2022, p. 678). 

Abraham exemplifies hospitality by hosting the stranger under the oaks of Mamre (Gen. 18). The patriarch’s actions remind us not to ignore opportunities for hospitality to foreigners (Wu, 2022, p. 55). Other biblical examples of hospitality to foreigners include the widow at Zarephath’s welcoming of Elijah (I Kg. 17), and the Gentile woman’s provision for Elisha (II Kg. 4,8). But some have pointed out the social power dynamics involved in the guest/host model of hospitality. The suggested alternative is that Christians treat migrants as neighbors with whom they have much in common (Nagy, 2015). Jesus’ inviting himself to the home of Zacchaeus the tax can also be seen as a form of hospitality. This demonstrates how showing hospitality to refugees is a “two-way Chanel of redemption” in which both giver and receiver “experience the grace of God” (Wu, 2022, p. 56). 

Missionaries are Migrants Themselves

This focus on common ground is found in missiologist Christine Pohl’s (2003) proposal that two biblical motifs should inform Christian thinking related to migration (p. 3-14). The first motif is liminality, present in the biblical image of God’s people as aliens and exiles in this world (Pohl, 2003, p. 5). Sanchez et al. (2021) found that missionaries shared a liminal identity with refugees in foreign countries where they served (p. 347). The missionaries that identified themselves as diaspora persons and were more likely to invite refugees into their homes. This was even a way for missionaries to find solidarity with Muslims who were also displaced from their cultures of origin (Sanchez et al, 2021, p. 348). Members of both communities – the missionaries and the Muslim immigrants – shared their experiences of raising children in a foreign culture. Like refugees, some of these missionaries had been forced to move with their families “five times in five years” and understood how exhausting an experience displacement is (Sanchez et al., 2021, p. 348). 

But not all missionaries shared a liminal identity with fellow migrants in the countries where they served. This was clear in the fact that they referred to themselves as missionaries, ignoring any corresponding status as migrants (Sanchez et al., 2021, p. 348). These missionaries’ sense of community was back at home with the sending organizations they represented, referring to themselves as “on loan” and “planting” a branch of those foreign entities (Sanchez et al., 2021, p. 348).

Pohl’s (2003) speaks of hospitality as the natural reaction of liminal groups meeting each other. As strangers themselves, “the people of God will welcome strangers and will embody hospitality as a way of life (p. 5). Hospitality’s true value is seen when it is offered to those who are “significantly different from ourselves”. Thus, it contrasts with our selfish tendency to be friendly to those who are “interesting, valuable, and important to us” (Pohl, 2003, p. 10). This is the opposite of the fear of refugees as detrimental to the economy and the preservation of demographical status quo (Wu, 2022, p. 55). Such an attitude among Christians is shameful, representing a scarcity mentality that seeks newcomers as a “threat or a burden” (Wu, 2022, p. 55). Often the church is complicit in a system where migrants are welcomed as cheap labor while prohibiting citizenship that would potentially change cultural identity. This is a stark contrast to the biblical mandate against mistreating or oppressing foreigners (24:19; 26:12–15; Jer. 7:5–7; 22:3; Ezek. 22:7, 29; Zech. 7:10; Mal. 3:5). 

Hospitality that Seeks Invitation Versus Giving Invitation

Sanchez et al., (2021) found that missionaries serving Muslim migrant communities overseas worked hard developing relationships and saw being invited to formal or informal events as a breakthrough (Sanchez et al., 2021, p. 349). Informal events included “afterschool programs for children and youth, language classes, food and clothing provision, and community center activities designed to help immigrants”. These missionaries participated in language classes to create a relational bridge which could lead to opportunities to share the gospel. These classes were a context where Muslim women could “socialize and connect”, which was superior to their need for language learning. In this way, a formal language class became an “informal, hospitable gathering” offering intercultural learning and relational support (Sanchez et al., 2021, p. 349-350).

Rejecting the “West to the Rest” Paradigm

Theologies of mission and migration developed by immigrants tend to focus on praxis versus theory. A “diaspora missiology” emerges that sees evangelism as something done from every place to every people (Wan, 2010). The most influential mission from migrants’ perspective has been reverse mission which encourages the sending of missionaries from the non-Western world to the former “heartlands of Christianity” in Europe and North America (Frederiks, 2022, p. 679). This last movement is described as a “re-narrativizing” project that counters the typical experiences of immigrants: marginalization, discrimination, racism, and exploitation (Frederiks, 2022, p. 679). This counters the “old paternalistic paradigm of ‘the West to the rest’” (Sanchez et al, 2021, p. 346). Majority World scholars have reminded Western scholars that “sharing the Gospel is not the sole business of Westerners”, and refugees can be seen as missionaries (Sanchez et al, 2021, p. 346). 

Missiologist Cindy Wu (2022) reminds us of the way Christian tradition has “honored the legacy of sojourners and refugees” in the Bible. Abraham was called out of Ur, the patriarchs wandered for generations in Canaan and Egypt, and Moses ultimately led Israel’s exodus in the desert. The factors which cause displacement of peoples are as old as time: “economic opportunity, environmental devastation, war, and persecution”. This has caused the development of unusual religious communities far away from their traditional homelands. Europe has experienced the most drastic demographic shifts because of asylum seekers, refugees, and immigrants from the Middle East, Asia, and Africa (Wu, 2022, p. 54). 

References

Adeney, Sam G. & Miriam Adeney, eds., (2018). Refugee Diaspora: Missions amid the Greatest Humanitarian Crisis of Our Times. William Carey Publishing, Kindle location 363.

Bosch, David (1990). Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission. Maryknoll: Orbis. 

Bevans, Stephan & Schroeder, Roger. (2004). Constants in Context: A Theology of Mission for Today. Maryknoll: Orbit.

Corrie, John, Escobar, Samuel and Shenk, Wilbert R. (2007). Dictionary of Mission Theology: Evangelical Foundations. Nottingham: InterVarsity Press. 

Frederiks, Martha T. (2022). Mission Studies and World Christianity. In Robert, Dana L. (Ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Mission Studies. OUP Oxford.

Griffin, G. (2017). Othering. In A Dictionary of Gender Studies. Oxford University Press. https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/acref/9780191834837.001.0001/acref-9780191834837-e-283

Nagy, D. (2015). Minding methodology: Theology-missiology and migration studies. Mission Studies, 32(2), 203–233. https://doi.org/10.1163/15733831-12341401

Pohl, Christine D. (2003) Biblical issues in mission and migration. Missiology: An International Review 31: 3–14.

Refugees. (n.d.). UNHCR US. Retrieved July 12, 2024, from https://www.unhcr.org/us/refugees

Sanchez, et al., (2021). Ministry Amidst the Refugee Crisis in Europe: Understanding Missionary- Refugee Relationships. Transformation, Vol. 38(4)

Wan, E. (2010). RETHINKING MISSIOLOGY IN THE CONTEXT OF THE 21ST CENTURY: GLOBAL DEMOGRAPHIC TRENDS AND DIASPORA MISSIOLOGY. Great Commission Research Journal, 2(1), 7–20.

Wu, Cindy M. (2022). Refugees and the Mission of the Church. International Bulletin of Mission Research, Vol. 46(I)

Your Discipleship Experience through an Anthropological Lens

Anthropology of religion investigates the diversity, commonalities, and relationships among religions (Eller, 2007, p. 2). As such, anthropology is a science concerned with explaining religion as a social or physical phenomenon (Eller, 2008, p. 11). Although anthropology presumes a human source to religious phenomena, a Christian can agree that religion is social because it is an aspect of society (Eller, 2008, p. 9).

Charles Kraft (1999) describes Jesus’ approach as honoring a people’s culture and worldview as opposed to wresting it from them (p. 386). It appears that no culture or worldview is “perfectly adequate either to the realities of biology and environment or to the answering of all of the questions of a people” (Kraft, 1999, p. 387). This article intends to briefly explore my experience of Christian discipleship using a social science perspective. This brief emic ethnography applies Delmos Jones’ advocacy for cultural insiders studying their own communities (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 44). I see this study of discipleship from an anthropological approach as an opportunity to demonstrate the values and deficiencies of my experience. The anthropological method seeks to define a phenomenon “in terms of something else (…) something other than itself” (Eller, 2008, p. 11). This is not the default perspective most practitioners of a religion use to analyze their own tradition. 

My experience of Christian discipleship has been in the context of Evangelical-Pentecostal cross-cultural missions. I am a third-generation missionary, associated most significantly with Youth With a Mission which my family helped pioneer in the 1960s. Reflecting on my spiritual formation, the central paradoxical paradigms of the worldview I received were multiculturalism and Judeo-Christian monotheism. The church was the global community of those who acknowledge God and call upon His grace. A certain ambiguity existed regarding the salvation of those who never hear the message of Christ’s sacrifice for sin. Although I doubted and strayed from the church in my youth, I eventually came to embrace this gospel and the missionary vocation.

Geertz (1993) describes religion as “a system of symbols which acts to establish powerful, pervasive, and long-lasting moods and motivations in men by formulating conceptions of a general order of existence and clothing these conceptions with such an aura of factuality that the moods and motivations seem uniquely realistic” (p. 90). Symbol here refers to “any object, act, event, quality or relation which serves as a vehicle for a conception” (Geertz, 1993, p. 91). And cultural patterns are “systems of symbols which lie outside the individual organism (…) in that insubjective world of common understandings into which all human individuals are born” (Geertz, 1993, p. 92). 

Anthropologists describe placemaking as a unique type of storytelling that links the physical environment with sacred stories (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 139). These stories recall history, build community, and explore ethical questions (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 142). In this sense, a particular Los Angeles neighborhood was formative to my cultural values and later, my Christian faith. When I tell people that I am a missionary kid, they usually imagine that I was raised in a Majority World context. However, as a New Zealander, my father was called to urban missions in Los Angeles. My father loved the city, which he saw as having a unique personality and for which a great spiritual battle was waged between good and evil. The city was not an impassable monolithic reality but a vast body of communities where God’s people could build His kingdom for the common good. 

My brothers and I were raised in a neighborhood that was predominantly African American and later Hispanic. This bears on discipleship because the example of Christian witness I saw in my father was one of deep engagement in the local community where our family was a cultural outsider. From childhood, I experienced the categorization of people in their social environments into what is known as ingroups and outgroups (Schmid, 2018, p. 1797-84; Stephan & Stephan, 2015, p. 429-35). My family and the community of the missions training base across the street represented ingroup members, characteristically providing security and a sense of belonging (Ting-Toomey and Chung, 2012, p. 203). The music and language of the larger community represented outgroup members, towards whom I felt the typical emotional and psychological detachment (Ting-Toomey and Chung, 2012, p. 306). 

Another example of placemaking involved my father taking my brothers and I to engage in adventurous activities in the ocean and mountains. In particular, the beaches of California, Hawaii, and New Zealand as well as the mountains of Yosemite where my grandparents had a vacation home. Being a Kiwi raised near a private patch of rainforest and coast, my father taught us that an urbanite unfamiliar with the wonders of nature lacked an essential aspect of their humanity. One way of getting back to what it meant to be human was to engage in vigorous individual sport/play such as surfing, fishing, hiking, rock-climbing. I use the word sport tentatively because competition was something very foreign to the values my father instilled in us. We never played any sports involving balls or teams, and we didn’t even play board games at home. Play in nature was esteemed as far superior to the vain pageantry and violence central to urban culture. 

At the heart of the Christian religion lies “a sacred story that reflects and reinforces a community’s worldview” (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 139), known in the social sciences as myth. From an anthropological perspective, human lives are not determined by a single author, there is no inherent plot structure, but a myriad of stories that have been constructed by human minds (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 140). Nevertheless, human beings tend to imagine their life story as if  following such an arranged thread or scheme (Zunner-Keating, 2020, p. 140). The concept of myth challenges a Christian’s faith in the foundational presuppositions of their religion. However, my father always instilled in me an appreciation for the apophatic nature of Christian theology. That is, an essential part of my discipleship was learning to accept that no humanly articulated concepts can adequately describe a God who transcends all our descriptions. 

My father instilled in me that the greatest present danger in our world was actually false Christian religion. What could be more damaging than a distortion of the universal means for human restoration? Part of my discipleship was learning that Evangelical-Pentecostal Christianity deserved the postcolonial criticism I learned in the Los Angeles public schools system. Thus, my discipleship agreed with anthropologists that “the historical erasure of the experiences of less powerful groups serves the function of shaping our global culture and global mentality in favor of the most powerful” (Trouillot, 1995, p. 6 [ZK p. 148]). As a member of the North American Evangelical-Pentecostal church, I represented themajority religious power structure of the nation. 

Our missions training community emphasized cultural sensitivity and evangelistic humility while maintaining conservative Christian views. In YWAM, attempts to engage a pluralistic world did not mean a denial of the reality of sin. From a missiological perspective, impurity and defilement have been described as when “something is out of place, an order or system has been violated”, or when “contamination has occurred resulting in certain alienating consequences” (Morrison, 2018, p. 117). Sin was indicted as the root cause of pollution or uncleanness, with Jesus emphasizing the inner life as the primary generating locus. Therefore, cleansing comes through receiving forgiveness of sin in one’s heart from a pure Savior who was willing to be “identified as unclean in order that he might bring cleansing” (Morrison, 2018, p. 121). My discipleship experience was consistent with this missiological conception. 

Anthropologists describe ritual as “a prescribed set of actions that employ symbols to reenact the deepest beliefs, feelings, and values of a people” (Kimball, 2008, p. 48; Hiebert, 2008, p. 98). Research indicates a three-stage ritual structure consisting of separationtransition, and reincorporation (Moon, 2017, p. 92) which I experienced on missions trips with my father.  These trips involved separation akin to what Turner (1995) describes as “anti-structure”: a distinct departure from the routines and structure of daily life (p. 106-7). Experiencing my father’s missions work and seeing him operate in influence and honor had a profound impact on me. The transition stage involved Turner’s concept of liminality– derived from the Latin limen meaning threshold – which describes the feeling of being in between (Turner, 1995, p. 106-7). Reincorporation occurred when I would return to my daily routine in Los Angeles. In many rituals, reincorporation is celebrated in a group setting with a meal or party. This powerfully bonds the newly initiated individual to the community and its religion (Moon, 2017, p. 95). These trips with my father lacked this bonding aspect of reincorporation. It was a jarring and disorienting experience to return to my daily context without any community recognition of the rite of passage I had experienced. I had come to a much deeper appreciation of  the values of our missionary community, but this easily washed away because there was little symbolic reference point. I do remember, however, when on a trip with my father to Switzerland he gave me a beautiful pocket knife. I’m sad to say I lost or gave it away at some point without understanding its significance. 

Anthropologists refer to a religious specialist as “one who devotes himself to a particular branch of religion or, viewed organizationally of a religious system” (Vallier, 2023, p. 1). The status of these experts is culturally defined in relation to whether the “transhuman controlling power” is “personal or impersonal” (Vallier, 2023, p. 1). In the case of North American Evangelical Christianity, the otherworldly power is regarded as personal, i.e. God. In this case, Anthropologists use the cultural phenomena as religion rather than magic (Vallier, 2023, p. 1). 

The most significant religious specialists in my discipleship context were missionaries. These men and women influenced my perspective of mainstream Evangelical-Pentecostal institutions. A distinction has generally been made by anthropologists between “two polarities of religious specialization” (Vallier, 2003, p. 1). Weber contrasted priests and prophets associating the former with the maintenance of permanent and ordered structures that relate to the gods (Vallier, 2003, p. 1). In contrast, the prophet is described as a charismatic individual who disrupts the liturgical project which the priest oversees (Vallier, 2003, p. 2). The missionaries who I looked up to as heroes were reformers and revivers of the institutional church. Their example instilled in me a bias towards leaders who were charismatic outsiders rather than bureaucratic administrators or slick salesmen. It seemed obvious to me that the latter two types were predominant in the Evangelical-Pentecostal church of North America. According to the prophetic motif, the missionary leaders I knew employed the toolkit of religious specialists in traditional religions. Like shamans, healers, and diviners the missionaries exercised the full range of New Testament spiritual gifts such as healing, predictive prophecy, and miracles (Hiebert, 1999, p. 324-6). 

The nature of the missions agency I was raised in is like new religious movements, described by anthropologists as arising from marginal groups that denounce inconsistencies and limitations of old religious forms. Although eventually these NRMs gain society’s acceptance and form their own institutions (Hiebert, 1999, p. 333). The initial vision of YWAM was waves of young people inundating the nations with the gospel. The founders of YWAM challenged what they considered an overly slow, formal, and academic process of becoming an Evangelical-Pentecostal missionary within the denominations. YWAM developed a model of doing and learning in short-term cycles. Growing up around this paradigm of ministry instilled in me a deep value of the missional praxis of the mobile church. In that context it was articulated – at times with diplomatic sensitivity and others somewhat arrogantly – that the local church was overly occupied with maintaining its existing demographic and liturgy. I don’t mean to imply that this false dichotomy describes YWAM in general, but it was an attitude I perceived at times.

According to researchers of NRMs, revitalization movements such as YWAM tend towards a “new steady state” (Eller, 2007, p. 175), which will eventually cede to another cycle of disruption, innovation, and diffusion. I joined the mission in 1993 where my process of discipleship continued in the form of training for full-time cross-cultural ministry. Having completed 30 years in YWAM in 2023, hopefully I can make some constructive observations regarding the discipleship I received in this movement. 

One of the liabilities I see in YWAM is that its financial model was developed during the revival and apocalyptic excitement of the Jesus Movement in 1970s North America. I don’t doubt that God lead the founders of YWAM to develop a faith-based structure where each missionary is a self-employed entrepreneur responsible for raising their own support. I see the fruit of this model as self-evident, with over 20,000 missionaries currently serving globally. But I do wonder whether more flexibility and innovation are needed today’s missionaries. Bi-vocational and self-sustaining models for missionaries are controversial and have had mixed results in many organizations. But the same impetus that birthed YWAM – facilitating the sending of missionaries – is manifest in new ways such as the difficulty to raise funds exclusively from local churches and denominations. I have personally heard many missionaries from YWAM and other organizations express the opinion that the financial support models of pioneer generations need some adjustments. In my formative years as a missionary, most of the leaders I sought to emulate were family men who travelled 1/3rd of the year or more. This was necessary to raise funds and recruit for the ministry as well as for their personal support. As a Gen-Xer, my view is that the minority of us who have survived the long-haul of missionary service have had to embrace a much more egalitarian partnership with our wives. And many of us have developed out-of-the-box ways to supplement the traditional sources of missionary support. 

Research shows several aspects of NRMs that attract new adherents such as the novel environment, smells, colors, foods, lifestyle, and most of all the camaraderie (Healy, 2011, p. 9). 

Studies show that these experiences help secure participants’ membership in NRMs even when they have serious doubts (Healy, 2011, p. 11). I believe that as a type of NRM missionary organizations can be dangerous because of their potentially coercive quality. As a movement such as YWAM grows, its validity is reinforced and participants are dissuaded from leaving or questioning because of the personal investment they have made (Healy, 2011, p. 12). For this reason, someone discipled in a context like YWAM needs to be firmly exhorted to seek their own guidance from the Lord rather than entrusting their future to an organization. After all, a missions organization exists primarily to send people out not to care for their personal security and well-being. 

As repeatedly mentioned so far, the phenomena related to my discipleship experience happened within an Evangelical-Pentecostal context. Christian and secular Westerners alike often express contempt for Majority World communities that attribute this-worldly events to supernatural forces. This attitude ignores that witchcraft and magic are not a negation of natural causes but an attempt to understand why they happen to certain individuals (Keener-Zeating, 2020, p. 91). Anthropologists study how folk religions use magic and sorcery to deal with situations such as deviant behavior, adversity, and injustice (McPherson, 2008, p. 272-8). Research also demonstrates how phenomena such as spiritual possession are used by marginalized groups to subvert oppressive power structures (Ong, 1988, p. 32). 

My missionary mentors taught me to respect the reality of the needs and forces involved in magic and witchcraft in folk religions as well as major religions that also address mid-level issues. The Pentecostal/Charismatic tradition has many faults, but one of its strengths is its rejection of a Western two-tiered view of reality that deals with the empirical world in naturalistic terms and with ultimate questions in theistic terms (Hiebert, 1982, p. 43). My experience of Christianity was one where the mid-level issues of supernatural but this-worldly beings and forces was an integral part of a biblical worldview (Hiebert, 1982, p. 43). But how my Evangelical-Pentecostal mentors modeled proper engagement with this-worldly supernatural phenomena had many flaws and inconsistencies. 

My mentors did not neglect critical analysis of pagan magic and sorcery. This critical approach is akin to research by missiologists on the use of divination such as Alan Howell. Howell’s research (2012) argues that divination is unable to solve the problems of a community when it is central to their system of responding to illness (p. 132). Howell’s (2012) work points out the deficiency of a split-level Christianity that speaks to abstract theological questions but ignores mid-level questions regarding illness, demonization, and other adversities (p. 133). 

A legitimate split exists in the mind of most Christians in my tradition between two sources of power in the cosmos – that of God and of the Devil. Anthropologists point out that this same dichotomy led to the witch hunts of early modern Europe (1450-1700). Zeener-Keating (2020) attributes such phenomena to “mobility theory” by which community leaders look for solutions because they are “stuck in a bad situation, such as a famine” (p, 92). Anthropologists have also identified the use of the “witchcraft accusation” as a “cultural tool that is used to punish individual who do not conform to society’s expectations” (Zeener-Keating, 2020, p. 89). Heibert (1999) describes a similar phenomenon in Folk religions where interpersonal conflicts boil over into accusations of witchcraft after extended periods of non-resolution (p. 151).

 Conclusion

This research has helped me see the liabilities and benefits of the means of discipleship I experienced as a son of missionaries. I hope that the fact that I embraced the missionary vocation is indicative of the inspiring nature of the environment I was brought up in. It was in this context of missionary training that I came to understand the gospel from first principles until this day. I have participated in many other contexts of Christian formation through ecumenical crossing denominational and national borders over the past 30 years. I come to see the inconsistencies of my own spiritual formation as I admire the riches of wisdom in other faith traditions. But I end this emic native anthropological study of a particular experience of Evangelical-Pentecostal missions with a feeling of gratitude. I believe God’s providence placed me in a rich context for flourishing of the soul if one simply cultivates a tender and teachable heart. 

References

Eller, J.D. (2007). Studying Religion Anthropologically. In Introducing Anthropology of Religion, pp. 1-28. Routledge.

Geertz, C. (1993). Religion as a Cultural System. In The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays, pp. 87-125. Fontana Press. (Reprinted from Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion, pp. 1-46, by M. Banton, ed. 1966).

Healy, John Paul (2011). Involvement in a New Religious Movement: From Discovery to Disenchantment, Journal of Spirituality in Mental Health, 13:1, 2-21, DOI: 10.1080/19349637.2011.547125

Hiebert, Paul G. (1982). The Flaw of the Excluded Middle. Missiology: An International Review, Vol.X,No.1, January,1982

Hiebert et al. (1999). Understanding folk religion: a Christian response to popular beliefs and practices. Baker Books. 

Hiebert, Paul G. (2008). Transforming Worldviews: An Anthropological Understanding of How People Change. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic.

Howell, A. (2012). Turning it Beautiful: Divination, Discernment and a Theology of Suffering. International Journal of Frontier Missiology, 29 (3), 129-137. Retrieved from https://scholarworks.harding.edu/bible-facpub/3

Kimball, Charles. 2008. Comparative Religion: Course Guidebook. Great Courses. Chantilly, VA: Teaching Company.

Kraft, Charles H. (1999). Culture, Worldview and Contextualization.

Moon, W. J., & Moreau, A. (2017). Intercultural Discipleship (Encountering Mission): Learning from Global Approaches to Spiritual Formation. Baker Academic; Biola Library ebooks. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=cat08936a&AN=bio.on1016999087&site=eds-live&scope=site&custid=s6133893

Ong, A. (1988). The Production of Possession: Spirits and the Multinational Corporation in Malaysia. American Ethnologist15(1), 28–42.

Schmid, K. (2018) ‘Social identity theory’, in Y.Y. Kim (ed.) The International Encyclopedia of Intercultural Communication, Volume 3, Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

Stephan, W.G. and Stephan, C.W. (2015) ‘Ingroup/outgroup’, in J.M. Bennett (ed.) The Sage Encyclopedia of Intercultural Competence, Volume 1, Los Angeles: Sage

Ting-Toomey, S. and Chung, L.C. (2012) Understanding Intercultural Communication, 2nd edn, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Trouillot, Michel-Rolph. 1995. Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History. Boston, Mass.: Beacon Press [from Zunner-Keating C7, p. 17]

Turner, Victor (1995). The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-structure. New York: Aldine De Gruyter. [Moon, 92]. 

Valier, Ivan A. (2023). Religious Specialists | Encyclopedia.com. (n.d.). Retrieved February 9, 2024, from https://www.encyclopedia.com/social-sciences/applied-and-social-sciences-magazines/religious-specialists

Zunner-Keating, et al. (2020). Beliefs: An Open Invitation to the Anthropology of Magic, Witchcraft, and Religion. PB Pressboks.

Morrison, James E. (2018). Sharing the Gospel with Tibetan Buddhists. In. A. Yeh, Alen & T. Tienou (Eds.), Majority World Theologies (pp. 117-130). Evangelical Missiological Society Book 26. 

How Symbols and Elites make Cultural Reform Acceptable 

Abstract

In this article I provide an analysis and critique of Nicolai Petro’s A Tale of Two Regions: Novgorod and Pskov as Models of Symbolic Development. I integrate insights from other developmental studies and attempt some implications for my own ministry and context. I also attempt to articulate some biblical insights gained through the study. 

Symbolic Shortcuts as a Means for Public Acceptance of Reform and the Role of Local Elites in its Propagation

The Role of Elites, Cultural Symbols, and Cultural Myths in Novgorod and Pskov

Nicolai Petro states that the intent of his study of the Russian cities of Pskov and Novgorod is to demonstrate that “the cultural symbols and myths adopted by regional elites can be a powerful force in shaping local development strategies” (Petro 2006, p. 370). This study contrasts the growth of Novgorod versus the stagnation of Pskov. In Novgorod, the influence of pragmatic individual political leaders has lead to development. While in Pskov, the influence of bureaucratic and unstable political parties led to stagnation (Petro 2006, p. 370). In Novgorod, a strategy for development prioritized growing the shared resources rather than simply extracting the maximum in the short term – a focus on future benefits (Petro 2006, p. 371). By contrast, in the other three pilot regions the focus tended to be limited to distribution of their existing resources (Petro 2006, p. 371). 

Petro offers a compelling description of myths that proved relevant to the positive developments in Novgorod. The positively useful myth in Novgorod was its cultural heritage as a center of commerce. In comparison, the study shows that the cultural self-conception of Pskov as a bulwark against outside influence proved to have a negative influence regarding development. In his book To Change the World (2010) J. Davidson Hunter describe such phenomenon as myths that are pre-reflective frameworks of meaning, understandings of the world “so taken for granted that is seems utterly obvious” (2010, p. 32). 

We must ask ourselves what sociological lens was used by the researchers cited in Petro’s study. Some of the research used focused on “the impact of Western funds on democratic development” (Petro 2006, p. 372). Petro also explores Western attitudes towards cultural development drawn from conferences organized by the World Bank in Washington D.C. and Harvard University’s Academy for International and Area Studies (Petro 2006, p. 378,379). I detect a level of Western bias in Petro’s study, even as he endeavored to encourage the value of local culture. In the end, the idea that helpful goods from the West could benefit the Russian context was a general pretext. Personally, I have no problem with the notion that one culture can benefit another if it accepts the mutuality of this proposition. 

Petro’s study demonstrates how elites in Novgorod were able to find a voice in their cultural context and influence key points of leverage productively for the community. I’m impressed by the Novgorod example as it represents the power of a society finding its voice in a way conducive to positive change. Elites in Novgorod shaped a narrative by giving space for people to narrate their own story. In other words, the elites understood the strategic value of giving their community symbols by which innovation would most likely be appropriated. 

Looking at the phenomenon that led to the differences in these two Russian cities, we can use Hunter’s two lenses of cultural change. Applying the common view, the cultures of these cities are understood as rooted in individuals’ hearts and minds in the form of values (Hunter 2010, p. 6). According to this lens, the cultures of Novgorod and Pskov are the sum of the majority population’s values and behavior (Hunter 2010, p. 6). By this account, the positive change in Novgorod resulted from courageous individuals whose values and worldview were productive. When enough people had adopted these values, culture is changed (Hunter 2010, p. 15). 

Inversely, if we employ Hunter’s alternative view, the positive changes in the culture of Novgorod were not generated by the truthfulness of ideas, but by their rootedness in powerful institutions, networks, and symbols (2010, p. 44). The opinion leaders in Novgorod were the society elites such as individual political leaders. But Petro’s study also showed the influence of existing institutions such as the local university as well as new institutions such as the NGOs (Petro 2006, p. 376). 

The quote from Novgorod’s Governor Prusak that there is “no need to invent artificial ideas, no need to mechanically transfer the American dream onto Russian soil” (Prusak 2006, p. 376) exemplifies the sensitivity to dynamics of local receptivity to outside ideas. Prusak affirms that Novgorod’s history reveals a city combining “democracy, free market relations, and other accomplishments of civilization, with national traditions (2006, p. 376). This type of discourse exemplifies Hunter’s thesis that culture changes through patrons sponsoring intellectuals who propagate alternatives (2010, p. 77). Demonstrating Hunter’s hypothesis, elites in Novgorod symbolized, narrated, and popularized new cultural visions (Hunter 2010, p. 78). In Novgorod’s case these elites were political leaders, university professors, religious leaders, and NGO workers. Prusak can contextualize democracy as something belonging to the Novgorod myth as opposed to a uniquely Western concept. Prusak was speaking to a wounded and demoralized people in post-Soviet Russia. As US-Americans, we often think of democracy as unique product and possession of our culture. Democracy was arriving as a dominant paradigm in Russia, and finding the right narrative to embrace it was key (Petro 2006, p. 369). From this study, it is evident that local Russian leaders had much influence. This contradicts the common Western perception that Putin is all powerful, an example of how our own cultural narratives distort notions of change and development. 

Conversely, in Pskov the direction of culture was also determined by elites, but in a different direction and with differing results. The elites of both Novgorod and Pskov made choices based on distinct self-images of their regions – regional myths that shaped social expectations (Petro 2006, p. 374). In Pskov the influence of political parties was greater than that of charismatic individual political leaders. Priority was given to existing institutions over more recent ones, and the establishment of new institutions was not prioritized (Petro 2006, p. 373). The openness to new institutions in Novgorod was demonstrated in partnerships with NGOs encouraged by local elites who were able to find common ground with the social agenda of their community (Petro 2006, p. 372). Openness to foreign investment was a distinct source of jobs with employment of factory workers by international companies reaching 25% (Petro 2006, p. 373). 69% percent of the NGO leaders in Novgorod said they “trusted in government officials”, in contrast to only 27% in Pskov (Petro 2006, p. 377).

Comparison of Cultural Adjustment and Cultural Congruence Approaches to Development

The comparison between advocates of cultural adjustment versus cultural congruence seems to favor the latter considering the Novgorod phenomenon (Petro 2006, p. 378). The idea that traditional culture is the primary impediment to development contradicts the evidence that positive narratives were developed based on Novgorod’s past (Petro 2006, p. 378). In contrast, the cultural congruence model that sees the task of development analysts as connecting transformation to traditional cultural values receives much evidence from Petro’s case study (Petro 2006, p. 378). The Harvard conference Petro refers to concluded that “traditional cultural patterns are the source of poverty, and the central task of development should be to remove them” (2006, p. 379). I find this perspective to be a clear example of Western bias. 

It is significant that Petro cites Western development practitioners rather than scholars as arguing that “only developmental practices congruent with strongly held local norms, beliefs, and practices could succeed” (2006, p. 380). According to these practitioners, just as one needs to ask a farmer to know the type of soil, culture must be considered before planting (Petro 2006, p. 380). This approach encourages analysts to “identify components of their culture that can be built upon to have greater synergy in the workplace as a result of working with, rather than against, widely held cultural norms” (Petro 2006, p. 380). Petro’s argument is compelling that when this happens the members of a culture become the executors of change (Petro 2006, p. 380). 

In his book Diffusion of Innovations, E.M. Rogers describes early adopters as integrated into the social system, having highest level of influence in most systems, and breaking down majority reticence towards innovation (2003, p. 219). This concurs with Petro’s affirmation that “what determines the success of reform efforts is not the actual historical antecedents, but their interpretation by the current elite “(2006, p. 375). 

Perhaps the starkest and impacting statement in Petro’s study for me was the following: 

“The fatal flaw of cultural adjustment is that the aspects of culture it seeks to transform are very often the same ones that people cling to in times of change: the comfort and stability of traditional values. As a strategy for economic and social development, therefore, cultural adjustment is doomed to a hostile reception, making implementation a never-ending struggle. So long as development efforts continue to emphasize the need to adjust people’s attitudes to suit develop- mental models, rather than the other way around, this struggle will continue” (2006, p. 380)

This is a stark contrast to the US-American mentality just working harder, trying harder and you’ll win…you’ll get there. Petro argues that cultural adjustment lashes out at traditional social agreement and sabotages the material politicians depend on to gain authenticity (2006, p. 381). However, the cultural congruence approach is also imperfect because it offers no clear metrics to gage change (Petro 2006, p. 381). Petro suggests the solution of engaging traditional culture as a means for transformation. This approach fosters support from locals while simultaneously seeking out means for outside researchers to evaluate the administration of this approach (Petro 2006, p. 381). 

Applying the Cultural Congruence Approach to my Context

How can the cultural congruence approach could be applied to my ecumenical and reconciliation work in Europe – in particular Latin Europe where I live. In secular, nominally Catholic nations such as Italy, Spain, and my home Portugal, how can someone from a minority Christian tradition such as me engage traditional culture as a means for transformation? The danger of colonizing and paternalistic presuppositions is inherent in questions from an outsider attempting to bring transformation to a local context. Acknowledging the fact of my own researcher bias, I ask what cultural components in my context could be engaged? And what potential do these cultural components have for synthesis and partnership with productive innovations from abroad? The ambiguity of whether these innovations are in fact foreign or merely perceived as such should be considered as well. 

A prior question is what are the innovations I as an outsider would prioritize for the Latin European context? Related to my work, I would choose the vision of the one new man (Eph. 2:14-18) as expressed by the Towards Jerusalem II movement. TJCII claims that the divided Gentile churches find common identity in relation to the novel Messianic Jewish movement that emerged in the 1960s (Hocken & Schönborn 2016, 133). A second tenet of TJCII is that the reconciliation of Jewish and Gentile Jesus-believers is the key to healing of all subsequent divisions in the church (Hocken & Schönborn 2016, 134). The reasoning proceeds that this key has been ignored during the past two-thousand years of church history and is the explanation for the failure of ecumenical attempts at comprehensive restoration of Christian unity. This is a lofty claim which I do not affirm personally, preferring to claim that this is a missing piece in Christian ecumenism, not necessarily the missing piece. A third claim of the TJCII movement is that the original one new humanity vision entailed a Gentile majority that would have honored a Jewish minority scattered from their land. This type of Jewish-Gentile ekklesia would have mitigated against the triumphalism that characterized subsequent de facto Christian history (Hocken & Schönborn 2016, 140). This triumphalism has been expressed in a self-serving church who sees its mission as subjecting the other to itself (Hocken 2009, p. 106). 

Returning to the question of what cultural components could be engaged that could work together with the innovations I promote, I offer some suggestions. First is the existence of public repentance initiatives such as the National Memorial Day for Victims of the Portuguese Inquisition, March 31st. The departments of religious science in Portuguese universities are a place where these matters are researched in depth but perhaps not in connection with ecumenical possibilities. I have been developing relationships with academics in the area and pretend to continue these efforts. Also, the Catholic pilgrimages of Nossa Senhora de Fátima and Santiago de Campostella represent, in my opinion, the most vibrant source of religious life in the Iberian Peninsula. These pilgrimages have historically attracted individuals based on supplication and gratefulness, but also repentance and penitence. The latter phenomenon could be linked to a desire for healing of the historic wounds against the Jewish people during the Inquisition, as well as the healing of the land according to theologies of priestly cleansing and identificational repentance (Hocken 2004, 1). I have been partnering with ecumenical ministries to the pilgrims in Southern Spain and am inspired by Petro’s research to develop inroads to the pilgrimage phenomenon in Portugal. 

Conclusion

Petro claims that the Novgorod model indicates that significant cultural symbols may have a vital place in encouraging the undertaking of social change by the general public (2006, p. 382). The study of these two Russian cities gives evidence that when confronted by external sources of innovation, people look for familiar symbols that provide an alternative route which best fits their cultural self-image (Petro 2006, p. 382). Symbolic shortcuts that best fit the cultural identity are received while those considered too exotic are resisted (Petro 2006, p. 382). The study of these Russian cities resulted in the following analysis: 

“Public acceptance of the interpretations of key symbols proposed by the elite conferred an aura of legitimacy on the reformist policy agenda that accompanied them. This aura created a reservoir of social support that political leaders could tap into to implement their agenda more rapidly and effectively” (Petro 2006, p. 383)

Considering the compelling evidence given in Petro’s case study, I am motivated to focus not only on the organic development of relationships with the Catholic Portuguese neighbors on my street. As daunting as the task can feel for an Evangelical missionary in a majority Catholic context, I am convinced of the strategic urgence of identifying key elites in my context and engaging with them. The development of relationship in this context will undoubtedly require time and dedication which conflicts with the expectations of Western missionary sending churches and agencies. However, the long-term fruit related to the innovations I came to encourage in Latin Europe require an understanding of how change occurs. Part of my job will inevitably be not only to apply the principles of the cultural congruence approach myself, but to educate my Western backers. Only this way will the type of work I am doing make sense to my predominantly North American partners. More importantly, I’m convinced that only this way will my work produce positive development. 

References

Hocken, P., & Schönborn, C. (2016). Azusa, Rome, and Zion: Pentecostal Faith, Catholic Reform, and Jewish Roots. Wipf and Stock Publishers; Biola Library ebooks. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=cat08936a&AN=bio.ocn957436514&site=eds-live&scope=site&custid=s6133893 Links to an external site.

Hocken, Peter (2004). Repenting for the Sins of the Past to Heal the Wounds of History. The European Catholic Charismatic Renewal Info-Letter (Euccril), January 20th, Issue 25

Hocken, P. (2009). The challenges of the Pentecostal, Charismatic and Messianic Jewish movements: The tensions of the spirit. Ashgate; Biola Library ebooks. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=sso&db=cat08936a&AN=bio.ocn432995805&site=eds-live&scope=site&custid=s6133893

Hunter, J. Davidson (2010). To Change the World: the Irony, Tragedy, and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World. Oxford Unity Press. 

Rogers, E. M. (n.d.). (2003) Diffusion of Innovations, 5th Edition. Retrieved from https://platform.virdocs.com/read/1882033/7/#/4/64/2,/1:0,/1:0

Petro, N. N. (2006). A tale of two regions:Novgorod and Pskov as models of symbolic development. In L. E. Harrison & P. L. Berger (Eds.), Developing Cultures: Case Studies. Routledge; Developing Cultures Case Studies.pdf. https://epdf.pub/developing-cultures-case-studies.html