Rethinking World Mission

By Elizabeth Adams

In New Hampshire this past January, Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson organized a meeting of clergy and parishioners under the theme “Re-imagining the Diocese.” He asked us to consider two concepts central to Jesus' life and ministry: “Infinite Respect” and “Radical Hospitality.” We were challenged to think about what our churches and diocese might look like if we really took those ideas seriously and put them into practice.

In discussion groups, we talked about trying to create open, inclusive, diverse parishes, and about welcoming all people equally and respectfully. We talked “otherness,” and who that meant. That day we were talking about Christians, or seekers after Christ. But my background in interfaith dialogue made me wonder: what might infinite respect and radical hospitality mean in the context of Christians intersecting with people of other religions ? How could these ideas help us to rethink world mission amid today's global realities? And especially, how might they inform our attitudes toward a group of people that the whole Western world seems to be seeing, fearing, and labeling as ultimately “other”: the world community of Muslims.

I was asked to preach on World Mission Day this year, as I looked at the day's texts, I pondered this year's theme, “Transformation.” The great prophets of the Abrahamic faiths had all gone to a mountain to hear the word of God. How tempting it must have been to stay there! But after each transformative experience, they had come down from the holy encounter and re-entered the world of women and men to continue their teaching and their lives. This is what we are all called to do; this is what mission means: listening to God, allowing His voice to transform us, and walking forth to do His work – the work of transformation – in the world.

From the perspective of the 21st century, we can now look back on hundreds of years of Christian mission, and what we see is a mixed legacy. There has been steadfast love, courage, and relief of suffering, and there have been attempts at forced conversion that involved brutal wars and violence – and there's been just about everything in between. There are people and societies who revere and thank the Christians they have known, and those who mistrust us and our religion to the core.

The resulting guilt and desire not to do harm, along with the overwhelming realization of the extent of suffering that exists in our world, have led to debate in our church about what mission should be. Some people understand mission as springing from the Great Commission: to be disciples that make disciples. Others see mission as embodying the Great Commandment: to love our neighbors as ourselves. The starting point for rethinking mission is when we realize that these two approaches are often in conflict with each other.

Talking about this with one of my Muslim friends, who was offended and frightened, I said, “I hope you know that it upsets me terribly to feel that my religion has been co-opted by people like Jerry Falwell.” He said, “I hope you know that it upsets me very much to have my religion co-opted by Osama bin Laden.”

I was very concerned about this in the aftermath of last year's invasion of Iraq, when a large group of Christian fundamentalists, allied with Jerry Falwell's organization, was on the border between Iraq and Jordan, ready to move in and begin “converting the heathens.” Here at home, on talk shows, Rev. Falwell and others were making statements about Islam that were not only ignorant but hateful. Talking about this with one of my Muslim friends, who was offended and frightened, I said, “I hope you know that it upsets me terribly to feel that my religion has been co-opted by people like Jerry Falwell.” He said, “I hope you know that it upsets me very much to have my religion co-opted by Osama bin Laden.”

Other people have been concerned, too. At the last General Convention of the Episcopal Church, a statement was presented by the Standing Commission on World Mission. They called it “Companions in Transformation: The Episcopal Church's World Mission in a New Century.”

This detailed document recommends a change in focus from mission as partnership to mission as companionship . It says, in part:

“Companionship in mission constitutes a shift from some modes of the colonial era, when sending churches in the Global North were sometimes confident that they had everything to teach and nothing to learn. Focus on companionship also modifies the partnership principle that has guided inter-Anglican mission relationships since the early 1970s. Mission companions in other parts of the world have felt that partnership, while helpfully moving us away from assumptions of dominance, has emphasized doing at the expense of presence , and getting tasks done rather than growing together. Solidarity with the suffering is a central expression of mission companionship. The mission church may not be able to solve the anguish, violence and injustice suffered by the companion church, but simply being present in the place of fear, loss and isolation expresses the love of Christ.”

I was happy to see that one type of recommended mission was interfaith work: seeking dialogue at the very least, and trying to find ways to collaborate in ministry in our communities. Christians were also called upon to speak out whenever religious freedom was jeopardized for anyone.

Reading this statement, it startled me to realize that I had never before thought of my own experiences with Muslims as being mission. This was probably because I was raised in the church at a time when “mission” meant “missionary,” and “missionary” meant a person who went somewhere far away and tried to convert people to Christianity. The old definitions also implied a position of dominance and superiority that I simply did not feel.

When my husband and I began to try to make contact with the local Muslim community, and to organize regular interfaith prayers for peace, it was before 9/11/01. We were motivated by the fact that he comes from a Middle Eastern background that he wanted to know more about. We also believed that the Israeli occupation of Palestine was very wrong, and that the increasingly negative characterizations of Muslims and Arabs in American society were not only wrong, but dangerous and un-Christian. And of course, after September 11 th , things got a lot worse.

We found ourselves in contact with Muslims from many different countries who were struggling to help each other under circumstances that felt hostile and unfriendly to their religion and to them personally. There was a lot of mistrust of the government and of Christianity because the dominant Christian voice that Muslims hear is the strident one coming from the far right.

So what did we experience? We experienced radical hospitality. It came in the form of delicious meals, of offers of help in simple daily tasks, willingness to talk about and help us learn about their cultures and religion, a reciprocal willingness to enter into dialogue about how our religion works and what we believe, and simple gratitude that non-Muslims cared. We started a monthly interfaith gathering to pray for peace and talk about our common religious roots; this group has been meeting now for over three years. There has been no attempt on either side to proselytize. Again and again we've heard surprised and appreciative voices recite the verse from the Qu'ran telling Muslims that among the People of the Book “the Christians will be your best friends.” Most of them had never before had a friend who was a Christian.

Muslims have a lot to teach us about “infinite respect,” a concept that is central to Islam. Ultimate respect is reserved for God, for whom the Muslim has awe, love and total submission. After God come the prophets. Most Christians don't realize that in the Qu'ran Jesus is second only to Mohammed. . .

Muslims have a lot to teach us about “infinite respect,” a concept that is central to Islam. Ultimate respect is reserved for God, for whom the Muslim has awe, love and total submission. After God come the prophets. Most Christians don't realize that in the Qu'ran Jesus is second only to Mohammed, and that Moses and Abraham are also in the highest rank of prophets. When a devout Muslim mentions the name of Jesus or another major prophet she will say: “Prophet Jesus, Peace Be Upon Him,” surrounding the name with formal words of respect. The Qu'ran also prescribes that respect be extended in all of one's relationships, particularly toward parents and toward guests.

The idea of mutual respect of husband and wife is an important theme in the Qu'ran, and many Muslim scholars – and this includes a new generation of Muslim feminist women scholars, especially in Iran – deny the fundamentalist interpretation that has led to repression of women in some modern Islamic societies.

We need to be educated to the fact that Islam is not monolithic, any more than Christianity is. Likewise, we need to realize that the concept of respect is a built-in component that works both ways. Muslim attitudes toward the West have often hardened because we, in our ignorance, do not understand their expectations of respectful behavior.

Our own experience became a micro-model in avoiding the clash of civilizations. By collaboratively developing prayer services and gatherings that would be acceptable to people of various faiths, we learned much more about respecting one another. At times this was difficult, but ultimately our preconceived attitudes were overcome, trust was built, and people were transformed.

Transformation is nearly impossible without openness to change and to new relationships – relationships in which expected roles may be reversed.   In the General Convention Statement on Mission, I was struck by the phrase that our churches have sometimes felt “they had everything to teach and nothing to learn.” I have learned so much, and sometimes I feel like I have done nothing except be present at a particularly difficult time. Being in quiet solidarity with suffering is entirely different than rushing in with “help,” and it leads both parties to a new place of relationship. Furthermore, it teaches us both about Christ-like love.

A large part of the healing our world so desperately needs involves a rethinking of who is “other.” Even the best-intentioned of us are used to a self-centered perspective on who is needy, and who is right. There is a great deal of aid that we need to give, and should give, out of our prosperity. But we also need to look underneath our thinking and see both the arrogance and fear that drive it. Are we so sure that our society is superior in all ways, or that our religion is the only one that teaches love and compassion, or leads to a society where people are happy? There are many people living in poverty, or worshipping differently, who are happier and calmer than many of us. What do they really want from us, and what are we called to give? What do we ourselves need?

World mission doesn't necessarily happen “over there.” There are innumerable opportunities in our own communities to build bridges with people who are different from us, and to be present with them in a hostile environment; this too is mission, and it is vitally important. In particular, can we show our Muslim brothers and sisters “infinite respect” and return the “radical hospitality” that they already practice? And in the process, can we be transformed?

Elizabeth Adams is a writer and a parishioner at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Hanover, New Hampshire. She and her husband, a photographer, are currently working on a project about Bishop Gene Robinson. Elizabeth may be contacted by email at adams@intermedia-home.com .