December 4, 2007
Giving and Receiving
Dear Friends,
I suspect that many of you who have heard missionaries say “I have received far more from the people of such and such a place than I could have possibly given them,” think they are being coy, or politically correct. I used to think this, too. However, I want to tell you about a recent two-week stretch I had that illustrates why missionaries have said this as long as there have been cross-cultural missions.
First, you should know something about Pakistan and Pakistan’s Christian population. By and large, Pakistan’s Christians are converts from the Dalit or “untouchable” caste of Hindus in the last part of the nineteenth century. As is often the case with marginal populations, the stigma and disadvantages of being from a despised class have persisted long after the “official” reasons for discrimination have disappeared. Now, instead of being looked down upon by Hindus for being unclean, Christians are disdained by many in the Muslim majority for being infidels (as well as for having the lingering cachet of the ritually polluted).
Their continued social alienation has meant that Christians are found in the dirtiest, most grueling, and least prestigious jobs—sweeping, brick-making, farm labor, sewer cleaning (done by hand), domestic service, and the like. The usual salaries for these positions are about $60 - $90 a month: a wage that is barely livable in the countryside. I stand amazed that anyone can get by on that amount in the city. Their economic marginalization means that the education they can afford for their children is often of low quality, and that supposes that they can send their children to school at all. That we have 700 Christian students of sufficient qualification to be admitted to Forman Christian College is a testament to the present government’s determination to bettering the status of Pakistan’s minorities (meaning religious minority).
On the occasions we have been honored by being invited to our Pakistani friends’ homes (both Muslim and Christian, and of humble means), we have seen, firsthand, what poverty truly means. Many flats have only one room for an entire family: a 12- by 14-feet space that sleeps ten to twelve people. Our students come to campus and find Forman’s wide-open green spaces and large rooms to be a slice of paradise. It also makes us very conscious of the fact that our family of four occupying a huge, nine-room house seems a cruel mockery in the face of the cheek-by-jowl crowding of our Pakistani sisters and brothers.
A student presented this picture to Robert, which she drew to honor Babar's and Robert's ministry at Forman Christian College. Yet, we have never sensed even a moment of resentment from these who have so little. In fact, they seem to simply assume that we, somehow, need and deserve all the comforts and advantages we have. Our staff, all of whom live on modest salaries, work hard, and without resentment for us, because they see us as having come all this way to serve them and their people. The service staff on campus, all of whom live in very modest circumstances (see above), will stop anything they are doing to cross the street to shake my hands, and drop heavy burdens to stop and salute us as we pass in our van, only to take them up again, and toil onward afterward.
The true nature of the Pakistani people is shown in the trouble they take for us, and the gifts they have given us. Those of you who are worried for our safety should know that there are any number of poorly-paid security guards who would (I believe) give their lives to prevent harm from coming to us, and to the other foreigners on campus. Every home we have been to, from the greatest to the least, is cleaned to gleaming for our arrival, and the poorest spend money we know they do not have on store-bought biscuits (cookies) and bottled water and soda for the foreigners to drink. If necessary, they will borrow furniture (at a cost), and move their possessions to the roof to give us a comfortable place to sit. Their generosity and fervor for showing honor to guests boggles the mind and humbles the heart.
Back to what we, as missionaries, receive from the people we serve. In the two-week stretch I mentioned above, I was given:
- What I thought was going to be a social event for our Christian students, which they turned into a tribute night for me. It included:
- An elaborate DVD (which shall always be a prized possession) students made for me and the college chaplain, Babar Iqbal Rana, celebrating our ministry with them.
- A picture (another prized possession, see image above) that a student drew of her estimate of our (Babar’s and my) ministry here at Forman Christian College.
- Many bouquets of roses (a common and touching form of respect here).
- A hooded sweatshirt for me and a sweater for Marianne to keep us from being cold, given us by our cook who lives in our two-room servant quarters with his wife and five children.
- An export-quality bed covering set for our bed (such as no typical Pakistani could ever afford) presented by our driver’s working-class Pentecostal church where I preached one Sunday.
There is one gift whose price I cannot begin to estimate, however. One night last week, fairly late (about 9:00 p.m.) the front bell rang. When I went to answer, there were 10 people standing in the yard, Chaplain Babar and nine students. They had stayed late to work on a project for the college’s Christian Life Program. Before they went to their one-room homes and beds on the floor, they came to the dean of the chapel’s huge manse to pray for healing for Nathan’s eye (he has lost significant vision in one eye, and we aren’t sure why after several consultations and different tests—fortunately, it is slowly improving), and to pray for Marianne and me, who have had bad colds for a couple of weeks. I thought we would stand in a circle and pray, but, no: this prayer was serious business. Many of them are Nathan’s friends, and they are close to tears with worry for him. They all fell to their knees on our concrete floor, and one of the students prayed an impassioned and eloquent prayer. Near the end of the prayer, Peter piped up and said – “Hey! Don’t forget me! I have an earache.” He was graciously included.
Now then, do I have to explain why missionaries feel indebted to the people they serve? And do I need to explain why it is so important that we continue to partner in mission with countries like Pakistan?
Robert (for the)
Vermeer-Johnson Family
The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
111 |
