Engaging Global Missions

Fr. Nathaniel represents the Diocese of the Rocky Mountains to the Anglican Global Missions Partners, and serves as the Global Missions Advocate within the Diocese. In this role, he meets regularly with representatives from missions agencies and other Dioceses, as well as from other churches in our Diocese, to share information and collaborate in advocating for global missions within the Church at every level and across many organizational contexts.

AGMP representatives pray over the nations of the world, and our many connections across the globe.

Here are his reflections on global missions, written after the Spring 2022 meeting of the Anglican Global Missions Partners:

Global missions, admittedly, have something of a fraught legacy. They have achieved some good for humankind, to be sure – and this should be acknowledged, certainly; it is as deceptive to unqualifiedly malign them as it is to praise them without reserve – but well-intentioned church work has sometimes been manipulative, or served as a pawn within a larger, totalizing imperial project. Not infrequently, the outcomes of mission have been paternalistic, and characterized by unhealthy dependencies; and, even as our Lord teaches, the state of those we evangelize is sometimes worse afterwards than it was before (cf Mat 12:45, 23:15). So, why bother? 

Well, first and foremost, we have the freedom to follow the impulse and the energy of the Spirit, driving us into these eyebrow-raising adventures. Knowing the sin that dwells within us, we are not surprised when our good intentions and best efforts yield mixed or even rotten fruits: it’s in that context we are driven back to the Cross and the life-creating proclamation that our sins are forgiven, that Jesus died for them and it worked. Our blindspots are not unseen by God, and the unintended negative consequences of our well-intentioned efforts are not unexpected by him. He is not surprised by the mess that we make, and promises out of this mess to bring something beautiful: just as he sculpted the human form from the dust of the earth, and as he will recreate our bodies from dust after our death at the resurrection. 

But having that forgiveness and freedom still doesn’t mean we should engage in the work of global missions. What is the good of all this, if we’re expecting, even best case scenario, to end up with a mess that God is going to have to clean up? Wouldn’t it STILL be better to do nothing? 

No. 

The end of mission – its chief goal and outcome – is fellowship in the Gospel, the most beautiful expression of which is a mutual delight and astonishment in this good news of great joy in the common, complete, and universal salvation that God has won for us in Jesus Christ, vanquishing once for all by his Cross the brokenness of this world introduced by sin, death, and the devil. In missions, we pursue as best we can a variety of goals vis-a-vis our fellow human beings in their humanity: relief and relationship, education and development; the creation of new social and civic institutions; the cultivation of good will in the midst of our national and cultural diversity, the pursuit of justice, and a more fair and equitable distribution of the goods of life and the gifts of creation within and between the peoples of earth. But regardless of how successful we are in meeting these goals -- or even in meeting our coordinated "spiritual" goals like planting churches! -- we lean into that precious gift and impossible possibility of establishing the beautiful, powerful, and life-creating fellowship that happens only around the foot of the Cross from the proclamation of the Gospel.

Mission thrusts us out into this dark and dysfunctional world – this world that it is so tempting for us to give up on and abandon, except that we have to keep living here – with the proclamation of an incredible hope and supernatural love. God so loved the world – in the midst of its violence and terror and perdition! – that he sent his only begotten Son into it, that whoever believes in him would not perish with that world (in its inevitable and irrevocable corruption), but have a life that is abundant, imperishable, everlasting, and resilient: a life that cannot be extinguished or taken away by the powers and principalities that dominate our age, even when they destroy our institutions, our churches, and our physical bodies.

In proclaiming this Gospel, we proclaim the irrepressible, resistless, all-conquering love of God that binds up broken hearts, heals every disease and infirmity, and cleanses from all sin. This is the ground of forgiveness, the foundation of reconciliation. Because I know that I am redeemed, that my sins have been covered, that the price has been paid in full, I can receive my brother who has wronged me as a sinner likewise saved. I proclaim this Gospel, and then I am free to be in relationship with those with whom I am upset, or with whom I disagree, or with whom I simply differ: not excusing them, nor papering over our differences of culture, concern, and option, but forgiving them, as I have been forgiven. 

The proclamation of the Gospel creates fellowship. It makes possible relationship. It makes friends out of strangers, and family out of friends. It cancels our enmity, inviting us to share in one baptism and one feast, crying aloud with one voice rising up in our many languages and traditions in one praise to the one God and Father of all, who is above all and in all and through all. Indeed, this proclamation is so powerful that it is effective even when it is rejected: for when those who stirred up against this message do their worst, even to the point of putting to death the one who proclaims it, the voice of the true evangelist rises up even as the stones rain down upon him, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (Acts 7:60). Thus is the Gospel enacted even when it is rejected, and thus the spilt blood of its witnesses becomes the seed of the Church. 

And, when the message is received: when the seed falls on good soil, and brings forth its good fruit, sixty and eighty and one hundred fold -- the fruit it bears in our delight together in the delightful things of God is unimaginably and supernaturally sweet. The Gospel that has gone forth comes back again, resounding to us in a new voice with fresh joy. The old, old story becomes new again -- good news -- and we ourselves are converted afresh: summoned to astonishment at this salvation that comes, not because of human effort or human merit, but interruptive of human corruption: a new and lifegiving life, rising aloft, with healing in its wings. What sweeter song could we sing, or richer melody receive than this eternal and unending antiphony? Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

So, we should go. We should go, and we should proclaim. Maybe we should even make a disciple or two, but only if we can bear it in mind that we ourselves are the first and foremost disciples being made along the way, not so much growing in wisdom and virtue as stumbling after Jesus in our foolishness, just like the ragtag band of twelve walking with Jesus in his earthly pilgrimage, who never seemed to get it quite right. And in our half-hearted, ever wayward going, we will find the presence of our Lord, as surely as we find his presence at the Altar: for he has promised to be with us always, even unto the end of the age.

In the Diocese of the Rocky Mountains, our emphasis has been on global relationships, rather than global mission. We recognize with right humility our debt to the global church, especially the church in Rwanda, who preached the Gospel back to us, when our eyes had become clouded and we had lost our way. It is principally that debt that we seek to repay in maintaining our global relationships: freely giving as we have freely received. Having been chastised for our errancy in faith and practice, and having needed to repent of some of the ill-effects of some of the former missionary work, we are sometimes somewhat hesitant to take up this mantle again, and rightly so. 

But even so: even so, we should go. For the end of the mission is fellowship in the Gospel: a mutual delight and astonishment that is an unthinkably rich and lifegiving joy. But we shall not find this joy if we do not have these relationships, and we shall not make these relationships if we do not go, and we shall not go unless we are sent. Let us pray, then, that the Lord of Harvest will send forth laborers into his harvest, and that he will make of us a going church and a sending church, a church that in all things is caught up in the energy of mission which is nothing other than an expression of joy in the Gospel that has by his grace grasped hold of us.