The Way of Peace

Luke 1:79 To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.

This was Jesus Christ's mission, and here in Ghana it is our mission also. We have been sent to guide people, to teach them the gospel truth's of the Bible so that they can understand salvation and be guided into the way of peace. Some say, but why is your family going? Are not the churches in Africa growing, are not many new 'converts' being saved each day. To this we say these verses...

Isaiah 59:8 The way of peace they know not; and there is no judgment in their goings: they have made them crooked paths: whosoever goeth therein shall not know peace.


Romans 3:17 And the way of peace have they not known:

Romans 10:3 For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.

This path of peace is what they have sought for and not found. They have been given religion. I believe Africa to be one of most religious places in the world. They been given many things: The Word of God with no understanding, the works of spirits without the Holy Spirit, the Cross without the Redemption, the New Testament without the Old, and Christiainity without conversion!

But one thing that all these programs, aid groups, and denomational investors have not given is Peace- and along with it Love, Hope, and Joy!

The African might have a song on his lips, food in his stomach, and clothes on his body, which is all good, but he has NO PEACE in his heart!

Here in Africa peace is King. It is what is most sought after. Even in our past it was the highest virtue to obtain. One might not have had peace outside of his tribe, but he always sought for it inside his community. Even here in the Akan, our highest diety that interacted with man was Asasa Yaa. She is the goddess of Earth. Her rule was over the laws of community and her main concern was in mantaining order and peace. But, no matter how much the African wants it, weather he be Traditional, Muslim, or 'christian', the peace he seeks is always alluding him. He seeks to cover transgressions, but the heart boils. He seeks to gain favor for his life from the gods, or God, but peace never comes. It is a phantom that casts its shadow across the path, but can never be felt or seen. He works hard going to prayer camps, church meetings, even 'witnessing' to the lost. But no matter how many times he is delievered from spirits, no matter how long he speaks in tongues, not matter how much he obeys the commands of the missionary, it still does not come to his heart.

What they do not know is that this is not the way that they are to go. THE WAY that Christ has set before us, and given unto us, has not been shown to so so many here in these great lands.

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. Christ and His sacrifice can bring peace to these hungry souls.

Even those that know the truths of the Gospel and Divide the Word rightly, are so often bound by church practices and procedures that are so deeply rooted in Westerner Culture, instead of Bible Culture, that we never think to do more than copy the patterns that we have seen and heard in our Bible colleges oversea.

This is not intended to be a rant that is given about the wrongs of missions, but a post about the need of the people of this great continent. Even now as I write this post, I can hear the sound of singing. The children in the local school are singing and drumming. They sing loudly and speak in unison. They are not singing the old songs of the past, but new songs of the present. But, though I can hear the 'amens' of the students, and understand the 'praises' in Twi to Almighty God, I hear no peace. I see no joy. Once the drum beat stops, the pulse and excitement is reduced, so goes the happiness that is the only distraction that they have. The body is touched, but the spirit is empty.

For these our new people, we cry! We beg! For those that have been placed in a greater darkness. Not the darkness of witchcraft and magic, but the more dangerous and deadly darkness of the pre-dawn. In the early morning fog, where it is not quite day and not quite night. Here they sit filled with religion and DEATH! With Amens on thier lips and cruses in their souls! For these that are walking without peace we cry and ask... WHO will come and help?

Romans 10:13-15 For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!

Cultural Death- Adjustment Stage (Acceptance)

(First of all, just a note- these pictures are just ones that we have taken lately and have nothing to do with this post's content)

Within the first term the missionary will reach the adjustment stage. It will be his decision whether or not the adjustment is truly acceptance.
Here is a basic description for the reader of the outcomes of the adjustment phase (source: Wikipedia).

There are three basic outcomes of the Adjustment Phase:

1. Some people find it impossible to accept the foreign culture and integrate. They isolate themselves from the host country's environment, which they come to perceive as hostile, withdraw into a ghetto and see return to their own culture as the only way out. These Rejecters also have the greatest problems re-integrating back home after return. Approximately 60% of expatriates behave in this way.
2. Some people integrate fully and take on all parts of the host culture while losing their original identity. They normally remain in the host country forever. Approximately 10% of expatriates belong to this group of Adopters.
3. Some people manage to adapt the aspects of the host culture they see as positive, while keeping some of their own and creating their unique blend. They have no major problems returning home or relocating elsewhere. Approximately 30% of expatriates are these so-called Cosmopolitans.

Missionaries fall into these numbers just as concretely as anyone else. This is sad to me, since missionaries are supposed to be more ‘spiritual’. The common fact, though, is that three out of every four missionaries that come to the field do not return for a second term.

In my life I have been able to visit a few countries and have known many missionaries. I have been amazed as I hear many missionaries talk about their experiences on the field and listen to what they say and do not say. Many times the things that they do not say tells a listener if they are a missionary in the Rejecter group or not.

It is sad to see how many missionaries live life in this group. They work with the nationals when it is mandatory, but most of their social lives and free time is spent in the ex-patriot community. I have met many missionaries, from varying church groups, that seem to be social butterflies. They fly from each group of foreigners to the next sipping the cultural nectar.


It is common on the mission field for missionaries to send their children to international schools, to attend functions and parties hosted in the ex-patriot bubble, and to fellowship in the higher stratus of the foreign sub-community.

These missionaries, international businessmen, and non-governmental organization workers begin to form a ghetto in its truest sense. That ghetto has no permanent residents, since most of the people that join it are discontent and move themselves from the country of their services. But just like the standing water so common in the African rainy season, just as the old waters evaporate the new rains come and add to the supply. So in each country around the world a traveler can find his cultural ghetto. These ghettos as normally filled with the culturally stagnant. The people in them enjoy the fellowship immensely, but it is just a support group for them, until they can reach their home culture. I am not trying to be harsh but honest. Many times when people visit these ghettos, if they are not deep in cultural death themselves, they see the bubble and its impact on the people that live in it.

If the reader has ever visited rural Pennsylvania Amish country, or the Jewish, Chinese or Greek parts of New York City, he will understand. Inside these communities there is a bubble. Drive through parts of Lancaster, PA, and a person feels as if they have gone back in time. Walk through the streets of Little Italy or China Town, a person feels as if he is in another nation. This is how the ex-patriot bubble feels in many nations. Step into these groups and in the midst of foreign country there is a piece of the travelers homeland (of course depending on the location and it limitation, it might only be a cheap copy of the homeland).


Let me tell the reader a personal story to help explain. When my wife and I were new arrivals to Ghana (I think we had been here for about four months), we were invited to an ex-patriot Thanksgiving get-together. Picture this: here we were riding in a taxi down a dusty African road, when we came to the destination. Outside was a normal African estate area - children running around playing football, and a few women selling food stuffs on the road sides, the air filled with the sites and sounds of normal West African life. Then the door to compound opened up. We were ushered inside by the gate man, along with the other white pilgrims, coming on their yearly trip to their cultural Mecca! The yard was half paved concrete and half grass. Every bush was pruned, the grass was green and full, the house was sparklingly clean. There were at least ten to twenty Land Rovers and SUVs parked outside. The driveway was covered in decorated tables and chairs. The yard was filled with foreign children playing together with balls and games. At every table, in every corner, and under every tree sat groups of white foreigners. They were chatting, eating, laughing. For an American in a foreign land, this seemed like the smell of home-made apple pie. There was a comfort to the scene. Everything made sense -- the way people were dressed (most were in cargo shorts and t-shirts), the way they were talking, and the eating of ‘normal’ foods. It all called to the memory a community party at home.


But, not too long into the party, my cultural radar started going off. My wife and I had been living in a local community with the local people. We were even living in a local apartment with a national pastor. After four months of total immersion, we had started to see a little bit of how Africans lived: how much money they had, what kinds of food they ate, what they saw as expensive, so on. The first thing that caught my attention was the subjects that people were talking about. Some groups were talking about problems with the ‘local’ house-help, others the difficulty of getting a favorite food, others the corruption of government, etc. etc. etc. Basically after just a few minutes each group would start to talk about something different in Ghana from their home country, and each time the pressure cooker of culture shock would start to sputter and whistle.

Now don’t get me wrong, I took part of enough of this in my own way and at my own time, but at this time, I was still in the honeymoon stage, and all this complaining started to get to me.
But the thing that got to me most was the carelessness that the ex-patriots seemed to have around the nationals that were working that day. The woman that hosted the party had two maids and one cook serving food. There were also three young men tending the drink stands and bbq outside. The nationals outside had the job of roasting and carving the hog (the family had bought a male pig, weighing about 150 pounds, and had the whole thing roasted for the party). They just watched as the foreigners consumed massive amounts of meat and rich foods. I wish that I spoke Twi then like a do now. I can just imagine what they said when they spoke to each other in Twi, “Look at that guy, that is his fifth time for pig meat!” “Did you see that white lady? She’s huge! Her husband must have a good job to keep her fed!” “I hope they let us eat some of this when they are finished. I could eat off this for a week!” (I have since heard Ghanaians say some of these things about foreigners when they did not know I spoke the local language).

At this party there was turkey (super expensive here in Ghana), chicken, every foreign food imaginable. The workers just sat in their corners or at their tables, only talking to guests when asked for food. They watched all the consumption. They seemed to count every bite, each dollar of mineral (coca-cola) drank. They seemed to be keeping a running total. We foreigners were eating in one sitting what they would make in salary over three or four months.

Please, do not get me wrong. It is not wrong to eat nice food just because some people are poor, but it was difficult to eat that roasted pig knowing that these men could not even afford a feast like that if they were getting married. Please understand. I know that parties are not wrong. Even poor Africans have times when they gather together to feast and celebrate, spending many times their yearly salary for the party. The thing that bothered me at this party was not all the excess, but the spirit of the gathering. The spirit of the gathering caused the excess. The money was spent, because a gathering of foreigners could never be given local fare. Foreigners need the foreign foods, and they need the very best. It needed to be like a picnic overseas. The money did not matter. The atmosphere and experience is what mattered. The gathering of friends was not the goal, since most people there did not even know each other. It was a "gather-away" in reality. These people were coming together to get away from the local scene. That is why it cost so much and seemed so different. In the end, Patty and I left as fast as we could. The saddest part to me about the whole thing was that the host family were ‘Christians’, and I am sure that during the whole party the ‘Pagan’ helpers heard more complaining, grousing, and insults about the local people, than loving words or testimonies for Christ.


This is the kind of trap that many missionaries fall into on the field. There is an old saying, “Misery loves company.” Many missionaries passing through cultural woes find these kinds of cultural ghettos or gatherings and do not escape until they leave the field after their first term or many years later. Sadly, no matter how long they stay on the field, they are never really happy in their new homes.

Most missionaries end up in this first group. They are just like the 60% of foreigners that travel overseas and face culture shock. Some fall into the other groups. A few that make up the 10% become Adopters. Many times they are married to nationals, or submerse themselves, planning on their families never returning to their home countries. I met a girl in college who’s parents fell into this group. In her 18 years of living in France, she had never returned to the States. She could not speak more than elementary English (though she was American) and attended public French schools. When she finished high school, and her visa to stay in France expired, her parents bought her a plane ticket to America and sent her “home”. Needless to say, she did not adjust well. She was not American; she was French!

If a missionary or foreign family is planning on being true immigrants, this is a great attitude to take. If they are planning on having their children return to their home culture, though, this is not advisable.

Last of all is the Cosmopolitan group. I believe this is the group that has accepted their cultural death. They know that if they are to continue to live in their new host culture and be happy, they will have to adapt. They must accept the death of their own culture and begin to become part of the new. In reality, they form a new third culture. They become part of two worlds. They have adopted parts of the host culture and can freely move inside this new culture, but they have the ability to relate and re-adjust when they return to their home culture. It is true that the longer the person remains in their host culture, the greater will be their reverse culture shock, but these Cosmopolitans have learned their place in the world, and can make this change.


I believe the key to the Cosmopolitans success is acceptance. They have learned that frustration and anger will not change anything and have learned to accept the culture with all it beauty marks and scars.

Here again is the definition of acceptance according to the grieving stages.

Acceptance:
This final stage comes with peace and understanding of the death that is approaching. Generally, the person in the fifth stage will want to be left alone. Additionally, feelings and physical pain may be non-existent. This stage has also been described as the end of the dying struggle.

The basic truth is this: the only way a missionary will have peace is if they come to accept that they will have to die to their cultural thinking and learn to accept the parts of the host culture that are not un-Biblical or harmful to their health or family. When they surrender all that they are to God, even their culture, then they will have peace. God will give them a new home and a great life!

Cultural Death- Depression Stage

Depression (Loneliness):
During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect themselves from things of love and affection.

Example - "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die . . . What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"

This is probably one of the hardest stages for a missionary, if they reach this point. My wife seemed to pass through this stage much more than myself. I do remember times near the end of our second and third years on the field, when it was about a year to six months before we returned on furlough. At these times, I would have overwhelming feelings of nostalgia. I would remember my family, friends, with great fondness. At times I would like to sit and think about all the wonderful things of the past, and could feel quite lonely in our new home. The hardest part at this time was the language barrier. Our first term we learned very little of the local language. I remember times that the depression came because I felt that I was going to live the rest of my life in a bubble. I could see people, but I felt that I could not contect with them. It was very lonely at times, and as a missionary the person feels as if they might spend the rest of their life that way.

For the most part, I did not deal to greatly with depression or loneliness, but for my wife it was another matter. Patty, has grown up her whole life with very close friends. She has been best friends with one since pre-school times. She has passed through elementary school, junior high, high school, and even college with a strong support base of friends. Then we moved to Ghana. For the first time in her life she had no frineds, and no way to communicate with new people. It was very difficult.

In Ghana, more often then not, men are educated before the women, and if a choice has to be made in the family about which child is to be educated, it is always the boy first. For this reason many more men speak English than women. This fact made it very hard for my wife in our first church.

The first church that we worked in held very strongly to the idea that the services and work of the church should only be performed in English. This meant that I had a number of men to fellowship with, but almost no women for my wife to fellowship with. We did have grown women that attended the services, but most of them just came with their families and children, but did not understand a word of the preaching or teaching. When services ended the Twi speaking ladies would form their groups and enjoy their conversation, but this left my wife out. She would try to speak with them, but the conversations would not pass much beyond the formal English greetings that they knew, and the little broke Twi that my wife could speak at that time. Needless to say, my wife felt quite alone. (We praise the Lord that this has changed, and in our new church, my wife has many friends and can speak freely with the ladies in Twi and some of them in English).

My wife is quite a strong lady, and does not complain, but there where times that it was very overwhleming. There where many nights that we would talk, and Patty would tell me that she felt very lonely. She used to have so many friends, but now she had nothing. She felt like she could not make friends, and that she was going to have to live the rest of here life with just surface relationships, but nothing deeper. It was difficlut, but it drove her to the Lord.

I believe that God used this time to brake Patty and make himself more real to her. Patty final gave her rights to the Lord. She told Him that if He wanted her to have friends, than that was fine, but if not, He would be her true friend. There had to be a dieing to self, before peace would come. Patty has passed through this stage and no longer suffers from depression and loneliness. A missionary needs to know that they will suffer times of great depression. Our friends in Poland have confirmed this, as well as many books that I have read about missioaries.

Hudson Taylor states in his journals that there where times as a early missionary where he walked through very dark days of depression in China, but as he followed the Light of the world the darkness began to leave, and slowly victory over the depression came. James Frazer, a famous missionary said that at times in his early ministry with the Lisu of the High Mountains, he would be so depressed that he would think of throwing himself off the mountains to excape. But, these men of God knew that these feelings where just a stage and a weakness of the flesh. These feelings are just the emotions that come when the flesh refuses to die. But, when a person looks to His Savior and hope comes depression will melt away.

Some missionary will stuggle with this stage more than others. I suffered with anger much longer than depression, where as my wife suffered with depression much longer than anger. But we must all pass through the stages, and let God use them to work in us. The joy of it all is to learn more about oneself, and more about the Savior. And if someone will pass thorugh this stage, then they can finally reach the last stage of all, which is ACCEPTANCE!