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I was experiencing a Cultural Encounter of the Third Kind: an intimate, personal contact with the unknown. The kind you experience when you share a small, canvas-topped vehicle with four fellow North Americans and five Indian hosts, heading toward a destination that lies somewhere beyond the limits of your imagination.
Suddenly, the jeep slowed and swerved to the side of the road. Another ox-drawn wagon had leaped out of the blackness into the beam of our headlights. This had happened a half-dozen times along our route, but the sight is still unnerving for those who have the expectation that oncoming traffic should be equipped with headlights. Our Indian driver, unfazed, expertly maneuvered us around the obstacle.
I glanced at the faces of my comrades and saw the same paralyzed smile that was frozen on mine. No exchange of words was necessary. They were asking the same questions I was: Where on earth are we? What have we gotten ourselves into? In a general sense, I could answer those questions. We were in India. More specifically, we were somewhere south of Gadwal, a village of 50,000 people that had become our temporary base of operations. Gadwal is about 180 kilometres southwest of Hyderabad, a city of 2.5 million people in south central India, the largest city in the region where the Mennonite Brethren of India live.
We were here to participate in Assembly Scattered. Our tour group of around 20 North Americans, led by Elmer and Phyllis Martens of Fresno, Calif., and sponsored by MB Missions/Services, was one of three Mennonite Brethren groups from North America in this region. The other two were led by Vidya Narimalla, an India native who is now planting a church in Toronto, and Paul Toews, director of the Center for MB Studies in Fresno, Ca.
The three groups had travelled together from Calcutta to Hyderabad, a city several steps higher on the livability scale. The extreme pollution and poverty we had experienced in the "City of Joy" were almost negligible here. We toured several historical sites, then were graciously hosted by Vidya Narimalla's extended family to a rice-and-curry feast, served under a colourful shamiana erected outside their modest house.
In the evening, the Governing Council of the Mennonite Brethren Conference of India hosted a reception. Each visitor received a garland of flowers around the neck--a welcoming tradition that would be repeated at each church we visited. After we introduced ourselves, council members briefed us on the history and ministry of Mennonite Brethren in India and prepared us for the next leg of our experience: the village churches.
Our foray on this dark night was the climax of that experience. Each of the three tour groups from North America had been assigned a different itinerary. Ours had included a long bus ride to Gadwal. Along the way, we stopped at several Mennonite Brethren sites, including the Bible institute and college in Shamshabad and several churches.
Arriving in Gadwal at dusk, we made our way through its narrow, crowded streets to the Mennonite Brethren high school, where a local hosting committee assigned us to homes for the night.
The next day, we visited the former mission compound, now a school and ministry centre, then explored the sights of Gadwal.
That evening, our group of 20 was divided into four ministry teams, and each one was sent to a different village church. The warm reception at previous stops prepared us for a major spiritual lift, but what else awaited us was still largely unknown.
Not the least of my concerns was the trip itself. A bus ride along an India highway is as thrill-generating as an amusement park ride. Almost every imaginable form of transportation jockeys for room on the same narrow roadway: pedestrians, bicycles, motor scooters, ox-drawn carts, cars, buses, trucks and (in northern India) camels and farm tractors. What would it be like to travel the back roads at night?
Second, what was expected of our ministry teams? At previous stops, our large group usually sang a chorus or two; sometimes one of our leaders presented a short devotional. But what about these small teams? Fortunately, we had enough polished preachers to assign one to each team. Harry Heidebrecht, a pastor from Calgary, was our man. The others on our team were a retired couple from Kansas and a retired engineer from Maryland.
One of the ministry teams drove by car to Malecherva, five kilometres from Gadwal. The rest of us climbed onto the bus and headed south to Maldakal, about 15 kilometres from Gadwal, where we met with 200-300 people for a brief service of music and testimonies.
Then we headed south again, separating to visit three villages 30-40 kilometres from Gadwal. The streets of our assigned village, Uppal, were narrow and, except for the occasional light bulb or cooking fire, quite dark. The church building was comparable to what we had seen elsewhere--a simple block building, about 8 metres by 7 metres (25 feet by 20 feet). It was covered by a tin roof built, we were told, with MB Mission/Services special-project funds several months earlier.
Removing our shoes, we entered the building. It was lit by a gas lantern on a table at the far end of the only room. Though I would have preferred to sit on the floor with the rest of the congregation--there were no pews--local leaders ushered us to a row of chairs near the table. About two dozen children and a handful of adults watched our every move.
As word spread of our arrival, the congregation grew. To make room, the children were herded forward until they sat at our feet. By the time the program started, the building was filled to capacity and beyond--men and women, old and young, exchanging glances with us, smiling, whispering to each other.
Despite the severe cultural divide, we felt profoundly linked with these brothers and sisters. They greeted us with garlands and sang a number of Indian songs and choruses. Harry Heidebrecht, with the help of a Telegu interpreter, inspired us with some thoughts based on the Book of Acts. When it came our turn to sing, we five North Americans warbled "To God Be the Glory" from the heart. Our spirits--North American with Indian--were in harmony, even if our voices were not.
When the service ended around 10, the believers, young and old, clamoured to establish even a fleeting one-to-one connection with us. A handshake and a "God bless you" seemed inadequate, but it was all we could offer. Then, our hosts insisted on serving us one more meal of rice and curry.
By the time we stepped out of the building and headed back to our jeep, we were thoroughly full--not only from the rice and curry, but also from the spiritual and cultural feast we had been served. While our team's performance this night may have been forgettable, what we experienced was not. When our bus finally rolled into Gadwal, it was past midnight--two hours behind schedule. No matter. Tonight, we were living on "Indian time". And it had been the time of our lives.
Don Ratzlaff
1. The churches are vibrant and growing.
India Conference leaders report 75,000 baptized believers. We witnessed vibrancy and vision in the churches. Attendance at most of the 815 Mennonite Brethren congregations in India far exceeds the capacity of their meeting places--and the churches continue to grow, especially in the Gadwal area. The conference's Board of Evangelism and Church Ministries (BECM) is "following" 700 new villages as potential church sites and has identified 2,000 more villages without a pastor or ministry presence.
2. Pastoral leadership and leadership training are critical needs.
Among the 815 congregations, only 56 have senior pastors supported by the church. That reflects the economic situation of the congregations, but also the lack of trained personnel. With some help from MBM/S, the churches support 140 extension workers, but many more could be commissioned.
The conference is working at training leaders through three institutions: the MB Bible School in Gadwal and the MB Bible Institute and MB Centenary Bible College in Shamshabad. They report a combined enrollment of 105 students and 25 staff (the majority of them part-time).
The Gadwal school and the Bible institute in Shamshabad provide basic theological training. The newest endeavour, and perhaps the one most critical for the long-term development of leaders, is the Bible college. Begun in 1989, the school, directed by V.K. Rufus, is affiliated with Serampore University in Hyderabad. It is working toward offering a bachelor's degree.
As Rufus presented the vision of the college to our group one evening, I was reminded of the stories I have heard about the early days of MB colleges in North America. The similarities were striking: a handful of full-time faculty, humble facilities, an inadequate library and a struggle to be fully embraced by the constituency. Will MBCBC impact its constituency as profoundly as our colleges have impacted us?
3. The India Conference is ministry rich, but materially poor.
The Shamshabad facilities of MBCBC and MBBI are primitive by North American standards, but, compared with other ministry facilities, they may be the most progressive.
MB Bible School near Gadwal is in its eighth year. But principal R.N. Peter's list of needs includes new electrical wiring; a three-wheel vehicle to transport sick people to the campus infirmary; and two oxen to enable the school to cultivate its small fields. A large missionary residence lies in ruins at the centre of the grounds; they hope to put a roof on it so it can serve as an administration building.
The church buildings in the villages around Gadwal were mostly one-room structures. Congregations are grateful to have them. Of the 815 churches, only 275 have buildings with roofs. Twenty-one more buildings await roofs; 32 have only foundation stones laid.
The MB Medical Centre in Jadcherla is highly regarded, but the newest equipment is 20-30 years old. "We pray; Jesus heals," says P.B. Arnold, centre director and head of surgery.
4. India Mennonite Brethren are a giving, sharing people.
During the past few years, the profile of the India Conference has been dominated by a leadership fight which led to the formation of two competing Governing Councils. At the centre of the crisis, according to North American observers, is greed for property and power. The struggle is real, admit Werner and Elsie Ann Kroeker, who have been North American liaisons in India since last fall. But they say the problem is limited to a few personalities. The churches as a whole are gracious and generous.
Nothing during our brief stay in India would contradict their assessment. The hospitality we experienced was overwhelming. M.E. Samuel, his wife Suseela, three sons, two daughters-in-law and a grandson share a one-storey, 500-square-foot house with one private bedroom (which they gave to two North American visitors), concrete floors, electricity and a telephone (which they share with the neighbourhood), but no indoor plumbing. Yet, from bounteous meals to comfortable sleeping accommodations, they graciously catered to our every need.
Even in the rural areas, the churches give sacrificially. On the jeep ride back from Uppal, one of our guides, K.A. Manohar, told how he had once told the congregation that some people in the city were selling their daughters into prostitution for 20 rupees--less than $1 US--to raise money for food. The Uppal believers, themselves at a subsistence level, raised 7,500 rupees for Manohar to distribute among "those poor people".
5. "Helping" the India Conference is a complex issue.
On the surface, the solution looks simple: India needs money, North America has money--share the wealth. But that solution is complicated by several factors:
* Giving money doesn't always "help" in the long run. Would an influx of North American funds empower the India Conference to stand on its own two feet? Or would it become a financial crutch that ultimately weakens the Conference? For instance, giving the Bible school at Gadwal a $10,000 grant to renovate the facilities sounds good, but it might be more helpful to spend $100 on an ox or two that could work the fields and help the school support itself.
* Helping relationships need mutual trust. North American leaders cite instances when money given to the India Conference has not been used for the projects for which it was designated. India leaders feel they should decide how much funding is needed and which projects should have priority.
* The present leadership crisis impedes trust-building. As long as a few entrenched personalities and structures perpetuate the struggle to control conference-owned assets in India, a more mature international partnership will be short-circuited. The dynamics at work are spiritual, cultural and relational. Beyond a breakthrough by the Holy Spirit, a solution does not appear imminent.
6. Being a minority religion sharpens Christian commitment.
Despite the insistence of a New Delhi tour guide that India's democratic government does not discriminate against Christians, we heard another story among the churches.
John, the youngest son of M.E. Samuel, would like to pursue graduate studies in the United States. Money is the only problem. If he were Hindu, the government would help. Because he is Christian, he is on his own. "Is it tempting sometimes to hide your Christian identity?" I asked. He smiled as if to forgive such a question, then shook his head. Denying his faith is not an option.
7. The legacy of past missionaries is mixed.
If visiting India today challenges the average North American, what must it have been like for the missionaries who came to India decades earlier? The very existence of the vibrant church in India is a remarkable tribute to the courage and sacrifice of these volunteers.
But other images also emerge. Our group visited several old missionary compounds. These visits were historically significant, but they raised questions about early mission strategy. Did the mission compound with its perimeter walls, communicate a separatist, elitist, gospel? Maybe, maybe not. No one can fully understand the historical context of these early mission efforts. The decision to establish separate compounds rather than live among the people had a logical rationale. In Gadwal, the Hindu royalty refused to allow a Christian presence within the city. A compound outside the village offered sanctuary for early converts as well as protection from disease.
Other practices are more difficult to understand, particularly the so-called "missionary bungalow" which dominated almost every compound. These residences were usually huge, almost palatial. One can only imagine how local villagers, living in the barest of environments, understood the connection between missionary, mansion and Christianity.
In conversations, we also heard stories. An MB pastor recalled asking his parents why the compound near his village had one soccer field for the children of white missionaries and another for native children. A retired conference worker recalled from his childhood the loving reception he had received in the home of one of our missionaries. He remembered it so clearly because such treatment hadn't been the norm. Apparently, native children weren't always welcomed inside the bungalow.
In spite of these experiences, our hosts were full of gratitude for the missionaries. We saw several monuments erected by the national church in their honour.
These perspectives helped me process the intense reception we received in the village churches. We felt like rock stars as people pressed around to shake our hands, exchange a word of greeting or pose for a photo. Sometimes they wanted more. In one church, a mother gestured that she wanted me to pray a blessing upon her infant. Another member of our group was asked to name two young children in an Indian home. Several pastors in our group were invited into a home to pray for protection from evil spirits.
At first, these encounters were exhilarating; later, questions emerged. Was it simply the novelty of having white-skinned North Americans in their midst? Or did the legacy of missionaries and mansions afford us North Americans a status far beyond what we merit? Did the Indians believe that because we are white and rich, we are also more spiritual?
8. True international partnership is not easy.
For Mennonite Brethren, with almost 80% of our membership living outside North America, global connections are beginning to develop. But becoming a true world body where national conferences share their gifts and resources as full partners isn't easy.
India MBs look to us not only for material assistance, but also for theological assistance. India leaders seem to want to be part of doctrinal discussions but still look to North America for leadership on several issues, including women in pastoral ministries. Generally, women in India are not allowed to preach in worship services, much less function as pastors. But that tradition is being gently challenged. "We are watching to see what you in North America will do with this issue," said one Indian brother.
On the other hand, what can India share with us? India seems to possess--and the churches of North America seem to need--spiritual vitality and evangelistic zeal. But how do you "share" a resource that to a large degree is managed by the Holy Spirit? Besides that, the two cultures are markedly different; specific programs and practical assistance may not be transferrable.
The other issue is receptivity. While India has graciously received the ministry of North Americans Werner and Elsie Ann Kroeker, would North American churches accept an India emissary who would speak to us about areas in which we struggle--like materialism or divorce?
Despite the challenges, a path toward global partnership is being forged, say leaders in North America and India. Mennonite Brethren, blessed with the largest proportion of non-North American members of any Mennonite body, are blazing the trail. "Other groups are watching what we're doing, waiting to learn from our successes and setbacks," says Canadian MB Conference minister Reuben Pauls. "It's an exciting place to be."
Don Ratzlaff
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