Another Totem on the Pole (or Brick in the Wall)

I don’t remember the exact day it dawned on me that the Mongolian populace really doesn’t care whether I live in Mongolia or not. There are in fact some Mongolians who would just assume that I stayed here in Franklin, TN. I don’t remember if it was a day my ignorance of the Mongolian language was taken advantage of and I paid way more for a shoe shine than I ever should have. It may have been the day I punched a guy for trying to steal my camera, or the day I nearly came to blows with another man in the market because of his mistreatment of my wife. Whichever day it was, I know that the Mongolian people are not gathered rejoicing that the Anderson family lives in Ulaanbaatar (at least four out of five years). Hard to believe, I know. But it’s true.

I’ve figured something else out (I’m slow and incredibly egocentric when it comes to these things). The same is true when it comes to living in America. There are no ticker-tape parades celebrating the fact that a former pastor, missionary (err… International Worker) family is now living Stateside. There may have been a day when that would have been different. Possibly. Frankly, I am happy there were no parades and I despise the celebrity making of Christian workers who are supposed to be servants. So it’s all good.

As we reconnect with Southern US, Franklin, TN culture, I am seeing the obvious: things have changed and are changing. I am not an anthropologist or a sociologist or an any-kind-of-ologist. I have learned over the years that Christian ministry requires skills in exegeting the Word as well as exegeting the culture. The Word and culture must connect in a way that both heaven-reaching meaning and oak-rooted truth live peaceably with each other. This is contextualization, and is necessary work in both Franklin and Ulaanbaatar.

American culture has shifted in the past four years. It’s not really even that subtle. People are generally satisfied with their lives. There is little “need” at a conscious level. We are a truly post-Christian age. Albert Mohler makes this observation in a Newsweek article that was published last year:

"The post-Christian narrative is radically different; it offers spirituality, however defined, without binding authority," he told me. "It is based on an understanding of history that presumes a less tolerant past and a more tolerant future, with the present as an important transitional step." The present, in this sense, is less about the death of God and more about the birth of many gods. The rising numbers of religiously unaffiliated Americans are people more apt to call themselves "spiritual" rather than "religious."

There are interesting similarities between post-Christian American spirituality and the potpourri of spiritualities present in post-socialist Mongolia. For the most part, anything goes and tolerance reigns supreme. (Sidebar: Please don’t misunderstand. I am not for intolerance in the unloving, graceless, bitter way that the “God hates fags” crowd is intolerant. I am for finding the Biblical balance of grace and discernment). We need to seek how we are to engage a culture that is as interested in hearing about Jesus as they are about inner workings of the government in the Czech Republic. I once asked a woman in an Outer Mongolian countryside ger if she had ever heard about Jesus. She said she had heard of Jesus, but he “wasn’t interesting”. She followed the “yellow religion” (that is Tibetan Buddhism). I have a friend who works at a cafe’ in Franklin, TN. She has tried to share Christ with her coworkers, and they are no more interested in Jesus than the Yellow-Religion following Mongolian. One guy at the cafe’ believes in Kharma. Another believes all roads lead to heaven. There is a satisfaction in being a good heathen. Hardworking. Tolerant. Not a bitter anti-Christian. Simply satisfied to include Jesus as nothing more than another totem on the pole. People here and there will not be characterized by banging down the doors of our churches any time soon.

That’s what I see, culturally speaking. However, I am also wondering what the answer might be. How do we bring attention to need without carrying signs and yelling at people on street corners? I am pretty sure that Jesus will not generally be received this way. Nor will we. On the other hand, we must engage people in the conversation. People are not going to hear about Christ nor receive His grace because we simply exist.

I told a story at our church’s VBS last week. It was a story Jesus told about two men, a religious-worker-pastor-missionary-type who thought he had it all together and a worldly-wise thieving tax collector who had clearly blown it with his life. One prayed extensively with extreme gratitude that he was better than everyone else and one wouldn’t lift his eyes to heaven for the shame of what he’d done with his life. One was ignored by God and one “went away justified.” It’s a potent story for those who trust “in themselves that they are righteous and treat others with contempt.” It was powerful when I told it to church children. It had to be powerful when Jesus told it to religious Jews. (See more at Luke 18:9-14)

I don’t know for sure, but it seems to me that current cultural shifts are making way for the rediscovery of the power of story. Perhaps this is the day for artists and poets and photographers and moviemakers and singers in the church to use their gifts alongside the preachers and philosophers to tell the Gospel story to this generation in a way that is subtle, surprising and powerful. It seems to be true in Mongolia as well as in America. What would it look like if the church became something of a community of story tellers, missionally proclaiming the Gospel in Christlike humility? I’m convinced this a conversation we should be having in the world-wide Christian church of 2010. What will this kind of community look like in Mongolia and Franklin and the million other communities around the world where the church currently exits, and is disturbingly absent? Grace is much more subversive than we would have ever expected and the story must be told. Will we be bold enough to tell it?

HA Schedule

Today we are preparing for a weekend trip to Evanston, Wyoming to participate in a Family Camp with the Evanston Alliance Church. This will be our first of many church visits over the next several months. As you think to pray for us, please pray for our speaking schedule. I don’t want to simply speak about “Mongolia Stories” … pray that we will speak the very words of God, and that the Holy Spirit will ignite passion for Christ and for His Kingdom in each of these churches. Here is our itinerary as it now stands:

July 16-18 EAC Family Camp Evanston, Wyoming
July 26 Crossroads Fellowship Clarksville, TN
July 27-30 Faith Community Church VBS Franklin, TN
August 27-30 Missions Weekend@Crossroads Los Alamos, NM

Fall Tour Dates in Western Great Lakes District of the C&MA
September 12-15 Orchard View Alliance Janesville, WI
September 16-19 Alliance Community Bible Church Belgium, WI
Septmeber 22-26 Faith Chapel Green Bay, WI
Sept. 29 - Oct. 3 Hill Point Church River Hills, WI
October 17-20 Campbellsport Alliance Church Campbellsport, WI
October 21-24 Crosswalk Church Waukesha, WI
October 27-30 Faith Bible Alliance Church Neosho, WI
November 3-7 Plymouth Alliance Church Plymouth, WI
November 10-14 Trinity Alliance Church Manitowoc, WI

January 14-17 Winter Youth Retreat Poplar Point Camp, AL

We don’t have our winter/spring dates set yet. I will either add those here, or make a new post for these.

We look forward to connectint with as many of our supporters as possible during this year! If you are not located anywhere near the places on this list, please let me know and perhaps we can arrange a time to connect - whether that be speaking in your church or simply having a cup of coffee together.

Thank you so much for partnering with us for His renown in Mongolia!

Back to the (Dangerously) Safe

“Well, I’m back”
Sam Gamgee

We’re happy to be back in our home country - and our home town. A variety of berries, light bulbs that do not explode all over the floor when they blow out, a dryer, a dishwasher, smooth traffic flow, customer service in stores, the familiar - these are blessings we will not take for granted.

It was also good to be back in our home church last Sunday and to fellowship with friends, old and new. All the “weirdness” I thought might be present when coming back to the church I had pastored for 13 years, now as a congregant, was not there at all. We have enjoyed worshipping in that familiar, yet slightly new context. There was a phrase our pastor used in his message that has gripped me all week. He spoke of American society, and particularly the environment we are now living in (Franklin, TN) as being “safe … perhaps even dangerously safe.” We talked about the phrase in his home later in the week.

After this, I was sitting in one of my favorite old haunts, working on a paper for a class I am taking. I was listening to conversations around me which included discussions about new books, new records, “following your dream” and very loud laughter (I am finding that Americans are typically much louder in public than Asians). At the table next to me, a local pastor and his wife were meeting with a young couple who, it seems, had just started coming to their church. They were having a discussion that I know I’ve had with other young couples in the past. Maybe in the same coffee shop. Perhaps at the same table. There was nothing “wrong” with the interview, other than the fact that I was rudely eavesdropping in on the conversation. The pastor and his wife were asking about all the right stuff. The linchpin question was asked by the pastor’s wife. “What are you passionate about?”. I have asked this question of others before - or at least something similar. I am sure of it. The conversation went on about music and art and drama and software development and even missions. Good things to be passionate about. Very safe things to be passionate about, in the church anyway. Franklin, Tennessee is a town full of music and art and drama and software development - and, to a certain extent, even missions. It’s the place to be if any of these areas are personal “passions.”

Passion is one of those new century words which has become very familiar in almost every circle. In the church, businesses, schools, career counseling - common wisdom now instructs us, “Figure out what you’re passionate about, and spend your life doing it.”

I will be spending this next year speaking in churches and (I hope) calling believers to awaken their passion for missions and the work of God among the unreached and least-reached peoples of the world. I deeply desire that people in the US church give their lives away for that cause. I want people to spend their gifts and talents and resources for this cause. However, this also misses the mark. Even a call to missions is a call that is too safe. Dangerously safe. For the Christian, “passion” is too powerful of a word to be used for everything from art to missions to stamp collecting.

Paul made it clear what his passion was. In a word, Christ. He put it this way in his letter to the Philippians:

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Philippians 3:7-11

It’s relatively safe to be passionate about lessor things. Good things. Even Biblical things. But it’s dangerous safety because it’s a passion that is not ultimate. However, pursuing Christ is safely dangerous. Knowing Christ - His ressurection power, His righteousness and fellowship with Him in suffering - is to be the Christian’s passion. I suppose it’s the fellowship in suffering part which kicks this one into the realms of “dangerous.” It's not going to be easy. It will require laying down treasures, pleasures and personal preferences. But this pursuit is the only safe pursuit. This passion is the only safe passion. It’s eternal. It's ultimate. It satisfies in this life and in the life to come.

Being in the US is dangerous. Being in Franklin, TN is particularly dangerous. It’s easy. It’s comfortable. It’s safe. I have much here that is to be counted as loss for the sake of knowing Christ. It all must be held loosely.

“Well, I’m Back”.

But I am realizing it isn’t really as safe as it seems. I will proceed with caution.

The Nature of an Electric Mongolian Trolly Car

I started adding it up the other day. When we came to Mongolia, we were used to telling people that we’d been in ministry for 13 years. I suppose that number keeps sticking in my head. The reality is that we had been in ministry for 13 years … 4 years ago. You do the math.

It is with that reality in front of me that I realize in slightly over one week from now, we are getting on an airplane to fly back to the US for one year. Many people have asked me if we’re looking forward to our Home assignment. Some have asked if we’re ready to go back and “recharge”. I admit, there is a part of me that is looking forward to going back. It will be good to reunite with family and with old friends. It will be good to get a medium-rare hamburger and to have simplified shopping options (at least simplified in the sense of one-stop shopping, versus having to go to multiple stores to get a days worth of groceries). On the other hand, I love what I do here. I love the people I work with. Deeply. I will distinctly miss our staff at the Grain of Wheat. I feel a little like Dorothy … leaving Oz and heading back to Kansas and having to say goodbye to people whom I deeply care about. I’ll miss the people and to a certain extent this place. And It will be good to go home. It’s definitely a mixed bag of jelly beans. Bittersweet.

In a sermon I recently preached at the International Church, I was reminded of an old illustration I used years ago for a sermon preached at our church in Franklin. It’s even more relevant in my life today on multiple levels.

In a word: trollycars.



The trolly buses here in Mongolia predominately come from Russia, with love. They are gifts, albeit I do wonder at times if they more represent the proverbial “white elephant” rather than Russian good will. In any case, the trollycars in Ulaanbaatar are electric and run on mid-20th century technology. They are attached to wires which run over the roads. They have one pedal to make them stop and go. Maybe there is a brake. But I am not sure there is even that. They remind me of kiddie-cars at amusement parks, only bigger and a lot more crowded. And much colder in the winter time.

I was riding one of these fantastic machines home a few years ago. When our apartment was at the city center, it was always very easy to find public transportation that would take me at least close to home. Trollies are easy because all the trolly lines stop at the bus stop close to our apartment. On this particular day, as I was cruising along, the trolly made an unexpected and rather sudden stop. None of us were too surprised when this happened. It’s a common occurrence here. The rods connecting the trolly to the power source had popped off the wire, and the trolly came to a complete stop. When this happens, usually the driver himself gets out of the trolly and tries to maneuver the arms back onto the wires. Sometimes he will need to climb up and stand on top of the trolly to do this. This particular trolly must have been going fast enough that we coasted to a place that the driver was unable to get the rods to reach the wires. So I entered into another level of cross-cultural learning. All the men were asked to get off and push the trollycar to a place where the conductor could get the poles to connect with the wires. So with a fair amount of huffing and puffing we managed it, the poles were popped back into place and I finally made it home that day.

I realize I am sounding more and more like an old guy. Maybe it’s because I am quickly becoming an old guy, I don’t know. But this I do know - from 17 years of ministry. The Christian life and the Christian ministry is a lot more like 1950-styled trollycars than it is like computer batteries. I am writing this on a new MacBook with crazy-long battery life. My 15” will run for 5-8 hours on one charge, depending on what I am doing. I hear that the 13” models will go from 8 to 10 hours. That’s great. However, the battery will eventually need to be charged. No battery lasts forever. Not even on a Mac.

I am dependent on the Holy Spirit in a way that is similar to how the trolly car is dependent on those wires. Less in the way my MacBook is dependent on it’s battery. If I am connected to Christ, walking in the Spirit, I move forward. If I am not I stop. There’s no battery. There’s no lengthy coasting. It’s complete dependence on a power source that is outside of myself. That’s what I understand Jesus to mean when he said, “Without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). I’ve been in the place where I am pushing and shoving ministry along in my own strength. When I’ve realized I can’t do it myself, I get others to come along side to help me push. It’s ineffective. Exhausting. Fruitless.

Someone has told me that Home Assignment is about “getting your battery recharged”. While I would agree to a point, in that we need the rest and we all need the break. I still insist that my Christian walk doesn’t have a battery. We’re either connected to Christ, or we’re not connected to Christ. So my Home Assignment aim is not to recharge, but rather to connect. To connect with family. To connect with friends. To connect with churches who have so graciously and lovingly supported us. And most of all, to connect with Jesus, without whom there is no fruit and there is no life.

Moving Van

This is our Mongolian moving van. We have all of our things moved into one apartment to be stored for the year we're away. That's our stuff in the truck.