Random Mongolian: “How long have you been in Mongolia?”
Me: “Working on five years now”
RM: “Oh really? You speak Mongolian so well”
Me: “Thanks … some days are better than others”
The “Me” inside of my head: “I hope I properly understood that conversation”
Most Mongolians are very gracious to foreigners when it comes to language learning. A haltering, poorly accented “Sain bain uu” (the basic greeting here) will warrant lavish praise for great efforts at language study, at least from most Mongolians. I think this is because in the past, others have come into Mongolia and never bothered to learn their language. On the other hand, maybe it’s because Mongolians know exactly how difficult their language is to master (at least for English-speaking Americans over the age of 35). Either way, I take all encouragement for what it’s worth, and just know in my heart I really don’t speak that well, at all.
I say this, not because of a small vocabulary or a lack of understanding on how to properly put together complex sentences. Although, I still do need to work on those complex sentences, it’s a much deeper issue than vocabulary, grammar and syntax.
The greatest need, culturally speaking, for the worker in Mongolia is to understand the Mongolian heart. Language learning is only a very small part of a process that is much longer and deeper than two years of study (which happened three years ago) could ever accomplish. Having started a second term here, I can say it definitely takes more than a term. I’m fairly certain it’ll take more than two terms. It’s perhaps a lifetime of work. This is a perspective of culture learning I’m choosing to take, and would encourage anyone in ministry to take a similar approach, as well.
All ministry deals with culture in some way, shape or form. There’s always a need for something more than a superficial understanding of the culture in which we serve, where ever that may be. When pastoring in the US, I had a huge advantage. I understood how Americans work and think, because I was one of them. I had some learning to do to understand the culture of Franklin, TN, but the learning curve was a natural, easy bend in the road. I’m writing this from a train in the middle of the Gobi desert. I can look out my window and see the train engine taking the slow, gentle curve that will eventually take me home to Ulaanbaatar. You have to go with the curve or you derail, but it’s doable and doesn’t take a terrible amount of effort. Some work. Some study. But not a lot. Not really.
The learning curve when crossing a culture, particularly one that’s as different from my own as Mongolian culture happens to be, is nothing like this train ride through the gentle curves of the Gobi Desert. It’s be more like a crazy winding road through the Alps.
I’ve talked about this before, but I’ve found it critical to embrace the fact that I may not and often times will not understand what’s going on around me here. This has reached something of a crisis point for me. Misunderstandings abound and I must be the first one to admit the hard reality: I may very well be the one who is missing the point. I need to learn more. I need to find a way to understand better. This involves way more than verb endings and complex sentences. This is about the enormous complexity of working with people who will never think in the same ways that I think. Their culture is vastly different from my own.
I’ve heard “cross-cultural ministry experts” (many of whom are better classified “short-term missions experts” who have never really lived in a culture outside of their own for more than two weeks) quote the overused adage “It’s not right. It’s not wrong. It’s just different,” as if that’s all it takes to understand cultural differences. The fact is, it’s an incredibly simplistic and trivial way to look at things. There are many issues which are “wrong” in every culture. Some things that are right. There are many occasions for an appropriate value judgement. However, value judgement is not possible after only a few hours or a few days. Sometimes it’s years and decades. Cultural evaluation and understanding is so much more complex than a cliche.
I’ve taken this perspective for two reasons:
1. It has everything to do with my own arrogance. I must die daily. I’m typically able to hide pride from folks well enough to not seem like a tool. Usually. However, I also know that my fallen flesh will sometimes rise up and say, “I know this language. I understand what’s going on here. I mean, when teams form the States come to visit they think I’m a fluent, buutz-eating, airag-drinking Mongolian. And besides … random-monoglian-on-the-train just told me how awesome I am at speaking the language. There’s absolutely no way I could be the one not understanding what’s happening here. The Mongolian worker who is now offended by me is the one who misunderstood. It’s not my issue.”
I might be able to get away with that attitude in Franklin, TN (but arrogance is arrogance, no matter where you work - so I don’t recommend it). A different approach is required here. My assumption from now on is that I am the one who is misunderstanding. I am the one who will take the position of learner, and thus make my way a little further up this narrow curve. It’s my issue, not theirs. I’m the outsider, not them. They will forever know WAY more about themselves than I ever can.
I need this perspective to stay in a place humility. My language will never be that awesome.
2. Most importantly, I need this attitude for the sake of the Gospel. The Gospel is paramount. There is nothing more important. To keep the Gospel pure and contextual, nothing can be assumed, other than the reality that there’s a high likelihood I’m being misunderstood. This requires me to work even harder at making sure I am communicating the truths of God, Man, Sin, Christ, Repentance and Faith in ways that are clear, simple, Biblical and meaningful. Words are important. When crossing a culture words and meanings can sometimes be as elusive as the smoke coming from the engine of this train … and as difficult understand as it would be to paint the smoke on a canvas. Understanding shifts, and what I thought to be the appropriate meaning for one word, ends up being quite inappropriate.
One of our Mongolian friends is trying to teach me to say, “It would be cool to ___.” The issue is that what I fill in for ___ is not the same thing she fills in for ___ . 8 out of 10 times, I say the wrong thing and sound silly. She told me, “Until you learn this better, only use this phrase with us. Please don’t say it to other people.” I appreciate my friend’s kindness in saving me from grave embarrassment and deep humiliation.
Grace, God, man, sin, repentance and faith are infinitely more important than “It would be cool to ___.” For the Gospel to be rightly explained, we have to use vocabulary that is both true to the Bible and understandable to the hearers. Words must have meaning. There’s no “balance” to strike here. Both of these things must be true. We have to get it right.
My deep concern when it comes to cross-cultural work is that in our sanctimonious rush to “get results,” we’re not getting it right. We’re not taking the time to navigate the learning curve, and assume far too much.
How can you pray for those working in cross-cultural ministry? Pray that we are patient enough to navigate the treacherous, yet necessary, learning curves required to walk in Jesus-like humility and to communicate the Gospel with cultural and Biblical clarity.
Some assistance when it comes to making complex sentences would not be refused.
The train which goes from Zamyn-Uud to Ulaanbaatar on which this article was written...