The weight of the world
One of my cousins just returned from a mission trip of several months, first training in South America (although I can't remember exactly where) and then in Calcutta, India.
As she went along, she sent regular updates to the family via email. I've got no problem with being part of a church or religious group that reaches out, however far, to help people in need. The attitude she had - and which seems to have been encouraged - however, first made me angry and then just made me sad. Unfortunately, it's an all too prevalent attitude among even many of the most liberal Christians.
What it amounts to is religious colonialism; granted, it attempts to be benevolent colonialism, but especially the farther you get from our family's familiar Mid-Western culture, the more clear it is that it's still colonialism, only instead of wanting your land, they want your soul.
Our family (and when I say family, I'm talking extended family, encompassing my grandparents' generation on down) talks a lot about our "Goodly Heritage." That phrase is meant to encompass everything from our family heirlooms and stories, to the moral values passed from one generation to the next, to a common religious upbringing. Our family is Dutch American, raised in Calvinist thinking churches. These things are closely tied in to prevalent Midwestern United States attitudes; our "Goodly Heritage" is a part of the way we think, the way we talk, the people we associate with, the amusements we enjoy; it is an ingrained part of our culture.
Breaking away from that is more than just a choice about god and faith. It's a choice that has the potential to cast you out of everything you've know and leave you without family or friends to rely on while you try to find a firm footing again. When religion is an ingrained and integral part of your culture, faith and god can be two of the smallest factors involved.
I was lucky - blessed, even. None of my family turned their backs on me completely, although there's still an unspoken distance with some of them that wasn't there before. I lost many of my friends, but I didn't lose all of them. I found new friends who were (and are) willing to support me instead of taking advantage or me. Most of all, I live in a place where individual thought and freedom of expression are prized, and where religion is important, but not essential to community interaction. It helps significantly that the choices I made didn't require me to deny my culture and my heritage.
Those of us who live in "modern," first-world, Western countries often take for granted the fact that we're surrounded by a wide variety of faiths and spiritualities, where even a lack of either is - at worst - tolerated. My family is unusual in that religion is intertwined so deeply and thoroughly with our culture and heritage.
In South America, India or much of the rest of the world, my family would be unusual in that religion isn't much more ingrained.
The [unconscious] attitude I saw from my cousin, and that I've seen from so may people over the years, is that every time someone chooses Christianity there is cause for great rejoicing, which I can understand to some extent. Extending from that, however, seem to come two other heartbreaking attitudes.
The first is that every person you meet is a chance to "bring someone to Christ." The - utterly condescending - assumption, especially when in some place like India or Africa, is that these people - these "opportunities" - just don't know any better and will be grateful for the chance to change their backward thinking. Their beliefs, their faith, are wrong and somehow 'less than.' These kids - and so very many of them are kids in their late teens or early twenties - go in with the conviction that they know better and must spread "truth," regardless of the culture and experience of the person or people they're talking to.
The first attitude seems to lead directly to the second. The religious information is invariably proclaimed hand in hand with the cultural connotations of the proclaimer. There's rarely any attempt to learn the culture of the listener(s) or to put the religion into a context that includes that culture.
The intention may be to say "this is my God and what He has done for me, see what He could do for you!" The result, however, is one of saying "not only do I challenge your beliefs, but your culture, generation upon generation of your heritage, is wrong and you need mine instead, regardless of the far-reaching consequences."
The result is a condescending and paternalistic attitude, where differences are indulgently allowed, as long as it's not too different.
My cousin comes from the same strong, loving, supporting heritage that I do. It's almost impossible to be part of the family and not appreciate just how rich and what a blessing that heritage is. That she could go out and, at every opportunity, ask others to abandon an equal heritage saddens me. I don't imagine that she would gladly rejoice at being asked to turn away from her "Goodly Heritage."
And the worst part is, most of these groups - like my cousin's - ask people to abandon everything they've known and choose a new god and a new culture; then they leave again, with the warm and fuzzy feeling of having "brought others to God," having themselves learned only the tiniest fraction of the heritage and culture they're asking others to give up, leaving these new converts as someone else's responsibility, at best.
I have no problem with going out and helping others, and even with freely saying, "I do this because of my faith, the experience of which I'm willing to share with you." To do so with the attitude that my faith should be your faith, and not give the listener's experience equal weight in return is.... It's sad, it's disrespectful, it's angering, and it's really rather pitiable.
At least, that's my perspective based on my experience. I'm open to others.
As she went along, she sent regular updates to the family via email. I've got no problem with being part of a church or religious group that reaches out, however far, to help people in need. The attitude she had - and which seems to have been encouraged - however, first made me angry and then just made me sad. Unfortunately, it's an all too prevalent attitude among even many of the most liberal Christians.
What it amounts to is religious colonialism; granted, it attempts to be benevolent colonialism, but especially the farther you get from our family's familiar Mid-Western culture, the more clear it is that it's still colonialism, only instead of wanting your land, they want your soul.
Our family (and when I say family, I'm talking extended family, encompassing my grandparents' generation on down) talks a lot about our "Goodly Heritage." That phrase is meant to encompass everything from our family heirlooms and stories, to the moral values passed from one generation to the next, to a common religious upbringing. Our family is Dutch American, raised in Calvinist thinking churches. These things are closely tied in to prevalent Midwestern United States attitudes; our "Goodly Heritage" is a part of the way we think, the way we talk, the people we associate with, the amusements we enjoy; it is an ingrained part of our culture.
Breaking away from that is more than just a choice about god and faith. It's a choice that has the potential to cast you out of everything you've know and leave you without family or friends to rely on while you try to find a firm footing again. When religion is an ingrained and integral part of your culture, faith and god can be two of the smallest factors involved.
I was lucky - blessed, even. None of my family turned their backs on me completely, although there's still an unspoken distance with some of them that wasn't there before. I lost many of my friends, but I didn't lose all of them. I found new friends who were (and are) willing to support me instead of taking advantage or me. Most of all, I live in a place where individual thought and freedom of expression are prized, and where religion is important, but not essential to community interaction. It helps significantly that the choices I made didn't require me to deny my culture and my heritage.
Those of us who live in "modern," first-world, Western countries often take for granted the fact that we're surrounded by a wide variety of faiths and spiritualities, where even a lack of either is - at worst - tolerated. My family is unusual in that religion is intertwined so deeply and thoroughly with our culture and heritage.
In South America, India or much of the rest of the world, my family would be unusual in that religion isn't much more ingrained.
The [unconscious] attitude I saw from my cousin, and that I've seen from so may people over the years, is that every time someone chooses Christianity there is cause for great rejoicing, which I can understand to some extent. Extending from that, however, seem to come two other heartbreaking attitudes.
The first is that every person you meet is a chance to "bring someone to Christ." The - utterly condescending - assumption, especially when in some place like India or Africa, is that these people - these "opportunities" - just don't know any better and will be grateful for the chance to change their backward thinking. Their beliefs, their faith, are wrong and somehow 'less than.' These kids - and so very many of them are kids in their late teens or early twenties - go in with the conviction that they know better and must spread "truth," regardless of the culture and experience of the person or people they're talking to.
The first attitude seems to lead directly to the second. The religious information is invariably proclaimed hand in hand with the cultural connotations of the proclaimer. There's rarely any attempt to learn the culture of the listener(s) or to put the religion into a context that includes that culture.
The intention may be to say "this is my God and what He has done for me, see what He could do for you!" The result, however, is one of saying "not only do I challenge your beliefs, but your culture, generation upon generation of your heritage, is wrong and you need mine instead, regardless of the far-reaching consequences."
The result is a condescending and paternalistic attitude, where differences are indulgently allowed, as long as it's not too different.
My cousin comes from the same strong, loving, supporting heritage that I do. It's almost impossible to be part of the family and not appreciate just how rich and what a blessing that heritage is. That she could go out and, at every opportunity, ask others to abandon an equal heritage saddens me. I don't imagine that she would gladly rejoice at being asked to turn away from her "Goodly Heritage."
And the worst part is, most of these groups - like my cousin's - ask people to abandon everything they've known and choose a new god and a new culture; then they leave again, with the warm and fuzzy feeling of having "brought others to God," having themselves learned only the tiniest fraction of the heritage and culture they're asking others to give up, leaving these new converts as someone else's responsibility, at best.
I have no problem with going out and helping others, and even with freely saying, "I do this because of my faith, the experience of which I'm willing to share with you." To do so with the attitude that my faith should be your faith, and not give the listener's experience equal weight in return is.... It's sad, it's disrespectful, it's angering, and it's really rather pitiable.
At least, that's my perspective based on my experience. I'm open to others.