Doctor's visits

There exist many great challenges for missionaries who leave their family, church, and country to serve Jesus internationally. In Bible college I had a class called "Crosscultural Communication". I remember learning a lot of things in that class and other classes like it like "Cultural Anthropology" Thankfully these courses helped prepare me for an intercontinental ministry, but I never could have anticipated the great challenges that lay ahead in my endeavor to make Chilean disciples of Christ. One of those challenges is that the culture where I labor is nothing like the very specific environment where I learned how to minister to the lost and to Christians: Pomona, CA. One of the areas where I felt the effect of this disconnect is the area of pastoral visits. An important part of pastoral ministry is making home visits. In Theodore Cuyler's How to Pastor, we learn that "a house-going pastor makes a church-going people." When I learned how to make these visits, the model that I observed and adopted was to stop in to several homes the same evening or afternoon. This usually lead to a 20 or 30 minute visit. In American culture this isn't weird nor is it offensive. On the contrary, if you stay too long, especially for an unsolicited visit, it is very easy to wear our your welcome. I made the mistake of assuming that things would be the same here in Coyhaique.

When I began ministry in Patagonia and I would make home visits, about 15 or 25 minutes into the visit I would get the itch that it was about time to make my escape. Of course I was sincere in my desire to make a good visit, but I was sincerely wrong in the way I was going about it. For our first year here I made each visit as fast as I could. People would offer me food or drink and in an attempt to be polite I would say "no thanks". When they would insist I'd make up and excuse like, "Annie is making me dinner and if I come home full then she's going to make me sleep in the doghouse." In a desire to be courteous I was coming off as rude and rejecting their hospitality. This closed doors and hindered me from developing relationships.

I no longer visit like that.

These days a shorter visit lasts about 2 hours. As I make visits most nights, it is not uncommon for them to last longer than 4 hours. A few months ago I was talking with some of the folks from our church and the length of my visits came up. I was just talking about it casually, but when they weighed in I realized what an important lesson there was to be learned! You see, I used to visit this same family during that first year, and now they are part of our church and now I have been discipling them weekly for several months. They experienced both my early visits and my current visits. When we were talking they laughed and mumbled something that I didn't understand, and they apparently didn't want to repeat it. When I persisted they said, "We used to joke that pastor's visits were doctor's visits." Confused, I asked what they meant and they politely said, "When you see a doctor it is always a very short visit." I began to think about the times I have seen doctors here and realized that those visits were usually cold, distant, fast, and often lack any semblance of courtesy. This is a serious problem. I can understand why a doctor's visit would go that way, the doctor sees the person as a task to get through. But pastors are not doctors, and the people we minister to are not just an errand on a list of things to get done.

The dining room table has proven to be one of my most effective tools for both evangelism and discipleship. One of the greatest lessons that I have learned in the last three years since I arrived to Patagonia is the following: from the pulpit I am their preacher, but at the table I am their pastor. It is in those moments where we tarry long pouring over the Scriptures, praying together, laughing, eating, drinking (tea, coffee, juice, mate, etc.) when I have become people's pastor. I learn their needs, their hurts, their victories, their failure...it is where I love, I teach, and I listen. Many people have doubts and questions about the Bible that they would never share in a public meeting of the church, but they would love to ask the pastor in their home.

I was so mistaken in our earlier days here and I didn't even realize it! I am not saying that in American culture pastors are doing things wrong by making short visits. What I am trying to say is that Chileans are different from Americans, and furthermore Chilean Patagonians are different from the rest of Chileans. Ministry is about become all things to all men so that you might by some means win some.

I would exhort any new missionaries, or missionaries who are preparing to leave for the field to soak up everything they can in their training in their local church, but also to be prepared to custom tailor that model on their respective field. Study the people in your new home so that you can bring them to the feet of Jesus and teach them how to follow Him.

I love where I live and minister and I am growing and learning everyday. Pray for us.

2 year anniversary

We have a busy week of ministry this week. We are starting our first vacation Bible school tomorrow and tomorrow night I finish up the free English class we offered. We had 5 first time visitors on Sunday from the class. Apart from our normal services and activities the week will culminate on Sunday when we celebrate our second anniversary as a church. I am taking out newspaper and radio ads for all the activities. With all the craziness I have a peace that passes all understanding praying and asking God to bless for His glory.

Philippians 4:6-7
Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

I would also like to paint up another wall art that will add a bit of balance to the last one that I did. Here is the first draft.

Things I miss eating

Admittedly after not blogging in English for a long time, this is not the most exciting comeback post ;)

Tonight I was thinking about all the things I'd love to eat and thought I'd post about it. And don't take it as complaining because I am super content with where I'm at, but a little nostalgia won't hurt me.

Jalapeños

Real tacos (2 small corn tortillas, meat, onions, cilantro, salsa)

Pho

Double Double

Ribeye

Bacon

Sharp cheddar cheese

Anything cooked by my mom, but especially Turkey Tetrazinni

James Russell Fehr

A couple of weeks ago I was on a two day trip to Santiago to preach in a graduation. I also got to preach at a church plant in Quilicura. Shortly before the service I read a text that my grandfather, Russell Fehr, had passed away. Although I knew he wasn't doing very well I was shocked and heartbroken at the news. I am so thankful for the hope of heaven though, and the promise of eternal life to all who place their faith in Jesus Christ.

My grandfather was a very talented man. One of his talents was artistic woodwork. As a boy I was very proud to tell people that my grandpa was a carpenter, because Jesus was a carpenter. When I was young I admired him so much for the beautiful creations he did. I felt very privileged when he brought me into his shop one summer to work with him and learn the craft. That summer was just the start, and it became something we would share for years. I never got as good as he was, but I treasure those times together now much more than the craft. We would talk about things. He told me war stories (grandpa served in the Navy), he told me how he met grandma, and we listened to big band, ragtime, and barbershop quartets. Below is a picture of one of the pieces of art I made in his shop as he mentored me; these are called intarsias. I made this one about 12 years ago and gave it to my sister.

One day after finishing work in the shop we went out to one of grandma and grandpa’s favorite restaurants in Whittier called Seafare Inn. As we sat at lunch I asked them if they were saved; if they had come to know Christ as Saviour. I’ll never forget the response I heard, “We believe in salvation by grace through faith.” That is straight out of the Scriptures; Ephesians 2:8-9. I am sad that grandpa is gone and especially that I couldn’t be near him at the end to say goodbye, but I have hope to see him again (1 Thessalonians 4:13). I am so thankful for the memories I have of him and I will always cherish them.

Armed Forces Appreciation Day

When I was a teenager a couple of Christian police officers really took an interest in my life. As I participated in the youth group they ran they began to reach out to me more and more. Through their efforts and those of many others I came to know Christ as my Saviour. From that point forward I have always had a love for police officers. Once I learned what the Bible teaches about them my respect grew even more.

When I was in Bible college I had a professor that is a chaplain who did Law Enforcement Appreciation Days at numerous churches and shared with us about those days. Ever since that point I decided that I would do something like that when I was in the ministry.

Police officers aren't perfect, and as with any profession there are going to be bad people, but as a general rule in the United States you are blessed to have police that are not corrupt. I have been in places where police officers are corrupt and encourage bribes; it is a terrible feeling! Thankfully, Chile is also a country blessed with an upright police force, and if you try to bribe an officer here then you will be taken to jail.

This Sunday night we are doing a law enforcement appreciation day at our church. Since in Chile the police are a branch of the military we are extending the day to all branches. I just got this letter in the mail from an Army Colonel saying that they will be participating by sending three ranking officers and 15 enlisted soldiers.

We are flying a pastor in to preach who retired from the Chilean Air Force after 27 years of service. Pretty exciting! Pray for our day.

Chopped, here I come!

About 6 months ago we got a Mexican restaurant in our city, Coyhaique. We don't really go because it isn't cheap, and because we make some bomb mexican food in the house. Yesterday we were feeling lazy so I picked up some food to go, and when the owners found out I was from California and that I like to cook Mexican food they asked if I would teach them and the chefs some recipes. I went in today at 11 and finished around 2. I taught them how to make chile relleno, salsa ranchera, salsa colorado, enchiladas, quesarritos,, some fresh salsas, taqueria style tacos, and some cool Mexican techniques. Overall I had a blast and they couldn't get enough of the food. Afterwards they wanted to pay me, but I told them that nothing would be better payment than if they were to come to a church service. They said they would!

Here's a high quality picture for your enjoyment. They should have given me a hairnet for my beard ;)

The emotional ebb and flow of missions

When Annie and I left the United States to be missionaries I remember saying to her, “you know, people are going to die.” We are going to be in Chile, and people are going to die. It is just a fact of life for a missionary that while they are abroad, there are certainly going to be waves of change in the place where they are from.

I don’t want to be morbid, but I do want to share some of my raw emotion and that will require talking about an undesirable situation. A couple of weeks ago I got the message that my grandfather’s health was declining. I called him that day to talk with him and pray with him. We talked for about five minutes. I knew he wasn’t doing well when he answered the phone and said, “Kyle, how’s the war?” His mind wasn’t completely there at times, but I could tell he understood just about everything I said. By the time the phone call was ending I was really choking up as the thought occurred to me, “I’m about to say goodbye to my grandpa for the last time.” I had a difficult time holding it together. I got off the phone and just wept.

My grandpa and I bonded when I was younger as I took an interest in woodworking. He is quite the artist, and he taught me the tricks of the trade of artistic woodwork. We made some beautiful things as well as developed a close bond. We talked about his childhood, his religious background, his work, inflation (of all things), how he and grandma fell in love, war stories, and other things. I am very thankful that one day after we finished a wood project I went to lunch with him and my grandma at one of their favorite restaurants in La Habra, the Fish Company. There I explained to them the gospel and asked them if they had put their faith in Christ as their Saviour. I remember the affirmative response as clearly as if it was yesterday, “We believe in salvation by grace through faith in Christ.” I take comfort in the fact that grandpa knows Christ as his Saviour. His health has not been well at all. He was in the hospital yesterday and today and had to have a lot of tests done. I don’t know if he is going to die soon or not, but this has definitely made death of loved ones very real.

Right now Annie’s family is having basically a reunion. There are Aunts, Uncles, cousins, etc. getting together for her grandmother’s 80^th birthday. She never complains that God’s calling on our lives has taken us so far from loved ones; in fact, she never complains about anything. However, I know it is difficult for her to not be there.

As a missionary, one of the things you sacrifice, to some extent, is the relationships dearest to you. You miss pregnancies, births, deaths, marriages, birthdays, etc. And although it doesn’t make the reality of sacrifice any lesser, I know these sacrifices of pale in comparison to what Christ sacrificed for us. Looking to Jesus is always a good choice. He is worthy of my all. He is God’s only begotten Son and God made Him a missionary. He left the glories of heaven to be born as a lowly human and dwell among sinful men. The word missionary means “a sent one” and Christ, who has sent us, was Himself sent by the Father: “…as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you.” (John 20:21)

There is a wonderful promise that means a lot to me as a missionary:

Matthew 19:29

And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life. 

I am not discouraged at all. I don't want to quit. I'm not thinking about throwing in the towel. I am convinced that the missionary life is the best life. I just needed somewhere to express myself. I'm thankful for the assurance that any current suffering is nothing to be compared to the glory that shall come (Romans 8:18 & 2 Corinthians 4:17).