RETHINKING TRADITIONAL YOUTH MISSION TRIPS
Photo by Adolfo Félix via Unsplash.
A few years (and a couple churches) ago, I was excited to discover that I had inherited an annual youth trip to South America. As I was preparing a few days before the expedition, I had lunch with a close college friend. During our meeting, I shared with him my excitement. What I failed to mention was the trip’s intention. My college friend (who does not attend church) sat and listened and, in his usual inquisitive fashion, followed up with one question:Why?” Why did we have to go on this trip? Why South America? These were simple questions I could not find the answer to. To this day, I remember one thing he said: “Why is it that Christians call it mission trips while college students simply call it spring break?” A bold question , I know—but it stuck with me.
As the youth group travelled, I couldn’t get this conversation out of my head, and I starting asking myself the question, “What are we doing differently compared to an exotic trip with friends?” Were we a church group who reflected and prayed together? Absolutely, but was that enough to justify such an expensive trip? I wasn’t sure. Toward the end of the expedition, I found myself staying up late one night with one of our guides, an American missionary who had become a part of the community we were visiting. Eventually I built up the courage to share with him my thoughts and kindly asked him for an honest response. He started by sharing his appreciation for our visit and the good that could come with the experiences gained, but in Pauline rhetorical fashion he then started to share an honest critique about the model that we had both acquired.
What I learned is that our being there actually slowed down some of the work missioners were conducting as they had to accommodate us constantly and take volunteers' time to shuttle us, give us tours, and take us to the street markets. Sure, we helped a little with the some advocacy groups and the local hospital, but was the little we did worth the amount of energy used to focus on us? The missionary shared that it was valuable to go home and educate families about what was going on, and the experiences the youth have can indeed matter. He then challenged that they did not have to travel halfway around the world to do so. Suddenly, I realized that what he was saying was not so different from what my friend had shared.
I am a firm believer that we are forever shaped by our experiences and formed by our encounters with others, and this was a watershed moment for me. Did we get meet some great people? Sure we did, but did we get to know them? More than likely not. Our relationships didn’t last much longer than the short time we visited and didn’t go any further than the pictures that were shared on social media. Is this short work the kind of work that is expected of us as followers of Christ? Is our mission to pass each other for brief times in each others’ lives, or is there something more? Is mission a visit with “the other” or something that creates deep intimate relationships allowing the idea of “the other” to become extinct? And finally, did we just pay a giant amount of money so that a group of kids and a few adults got to go on a vacation wrapped in the language of mission?
A short time later I found myself in Washington, D.C. visiting my in-laws. During our trip, we were able to visit the Capitol building, where I experienced another watershed moment. In the rotunda, there are a half dozen paintings depicting moments of American history. While some are a sight to look at, some are not. One painting that is not something to be proud of is The Discovery of Mississippi by De Soto. Now, the artistry is fantastic—it is clear that the artist, William Powell, was a very talented painter—but the context of the painting is what got my attention. The scene depicts Hernando De Soto, a Spanish conquistador, riding a horse as the sun shines directly on him in the middle of the painting. De Soto is approaching Native people who look confused and scared, but what is shocking (other than the audacity to name the painting The Discovery of the Mississippi when it was clear that there were already people living there) is found on the bottom right of the painting. In the darkness, one can see a man placing a large crucifix in the ground as if he is claiming the land in the name of God while clergy are praying and blessing this action.
If we know anything about American history, this action should not be a surprise, but it brings up questions. What is the purpose of planting a crucifix in the ground? Are settlers claiming it for God? And if so, what does it reveal about their theology of the Imago Dei, or the image of God? What does it say about God’s omnipresence? Do they believe that by representing God, they are bringing God to these people?
And then I asked myself the question, “Are most youth trip models rooted in this way of mission?”
Throughout my journey of understanding mission trips, I have asked many people what the purpose of them are. Many say it’s to gain experiences for those who attend, and, while I don’t disagree with them, is this really the purpose of mission? Did God commission God’s disciples to go out into the world just to gain experience?
While others gave various other reasons, some could not answer the question at all. But there were a few that shared with me that mission trips allow the opportunity to share the Gospel of Christ or to introduce God to others. Again, I don’t disagree with the intention, but how these statements are crafted imply a whole lot more than the surface of their claim. First, who’s to say that others around the world do not know the Gospel of Christ? And secondly, who are we to assume that we must travel to far places to introduce God to others, implying that God is not already working in these communities? Is God waiting for us to travel, to plant a crucifix in the ground in order to allow God to work in new places? Why do we as Americans presume God’s central headquarters are found in the United States and that the privileged are those who are commissioned to bring God to “the other”?
I’m not claiming that the American Church needs to cut ties with other countries and communities far off, but I will argue that how we approach these ventures must change. First, we need to understand that the immediacy of our evangelism is on God’s time, not ours. Evangelism is not a cheap bumper sticker, a tract, a five minute conversation, or a week long trip. Evangelism is injecting oneself into the context of a community so deeply that we no longer remain foreign. Second, we must understand that God is at work in the world--not just our world, but the entire world. Evangelism should always be a two-way path. When we observe different places and cultures, we must be open to see how God is at work in them and to accept that we can be introduced to God in different ways. Third, we cannot equate our western way of life with the salvation of Christ. When we visit poorer countries, we look at them as if they need “fixing” by making them more like us. There is real empirical evidence that people in some poorer countries are psychologically happier than Americans. Fourth, we need to have the humility to understand that we do not have to travel far to do mission. When we assume that we must go on a plane to “help others,” we are not acknowledging the reality that there are people close to us that ministered to as well.
A couple years ago, I put together a mission trip for our youth and did not tell them were we were going. I asked them to trust me and that it wasn’t too far, but the surprise was worth it. On a Sunday afternoon, we met at the church, packed up one of the church vans, and drove off. About five minutes later, I pulled into a house that I had rented for the week. I admit that I was nervous that this would backfire, but the youth thought the audacity of the idea was unique enough to not complain. What we did that week was visit different advocacy groups, homeless shelters, social justice organizations, and other churches who are working to transform our home city. It opened them up to the idea that God’s work is needed down the street and that doing mission should not be something they do one week a year. Rather, there are places at work blocks away from their insulated lives that need their time and talents. We discovered that this model helped youth discern what groups they could continually participate in—not just during a mission week, but throughout the year.
Finding a space to do God’s work regularly allows one to inject oneself in a community that one may have never been a part of—to discover meaningful and long-term relationships with those who may be different. These youth realized that the world, whether they are in an impoverished nation or a community down the street, can introduce them to God in ways that create multiple dimensions of the divine. If we are truly doing mission while understanding that God is already at work in all the world, that all people are the image of God, then we can be open to witnessing the Holy Spirit in the world and to be transformed by those in it.
