I think one of the saddest characters in the New Testament is an obscure man named Demas.
Demas is only mentioned in three verses, and always in passing. In both Colossians and Philemon, he is included in the list of Paul’s coworkers sending greetings to the letters’ recipients. However, in 2 Timothy, Paul expresses his sorrow to Timothy at having been abandoned by Demas, who ‘loved this present world,’ and left to go do his own thing in Thessalonica. Today we would call Demas a back-sliding Christian. Paul called him a deserter.
I remember the first time a good friend and former coworker of mine–let’s call him Tom–declared himself to be an atheist. We had worked together on the mission field; and when I knew Tom, he had a deep love for God. He was an honest guy, always wanting to learn more, and very genuine in his love for others. It shook me that someone so solid could fall away like that, and it had only been about a year since his departure from the field.
I grieved for the lost faith of my friend. I’ve grieved like that for too many others since.
When I ran the gauntlet of returning from the field, I had my share of moments that tested my faith. We all have times like that, and I think that re-entry is especially brutal for many people. I struggled with doubts (and still do), and for a long time I struggled to find a community that would understand my situation. Although I still don’t comprehend or agree with my friends who have fallen away, I can empathize with them to a degree.
Seriously, how sad is it for us when we see our friends turn their backs on Jesus? We became missionaries because we have a heart for the lost. So what of it when our friends and even our coworkers knowingly place themselves into that category? It’s nothing less than heartbreaking, and I would venture to say that most of us who have been involved in missions are all too familiar with this situation.
Every time this kind of thing happens, I end up having a mini-crisis of my own. I wonder if there’s any argument or circumstance strong enough to take down my own faith in God. And I’ve come to the conclusion that, in belief as in anything else, nobody is infallible. Everyone has shortcomings in their understanding and experience which, if not addressed, could cripple us. If our faith is based on something inside ourselves, then it’s likely to crumble. A real, living faith is a gift from God, but it’s our responsibility to nurture and discipline it.
Discipline can be hard to maintain–that’s why it’s called discipline. Jesus said that if we want to be worthy of being His disciples, we must take up our cross daily and follow Him. Every day we need to die to ourselves and get to work on our discipleship.
Oddly enough, while one is active on the mission field, it can be easy to coast by without much inner discipline. The missions community can sometimes act as a cocoon, with certain ideals being reinforced by the community, and communal times of prayer and worship substituting for personal study and meditation. At times, I was just as guilty as the next guy when it came to this. A missions community can also shield its members from outside influence. These things in themselves aren’t all bad, but they can create a reliance on an environment rather than on the Holy Spirit. Communal discipleship was never meant to replace personal growth.
In the years since leaving the field, I’ve seen a few patterns emerge among my friends who have eventually rejected Christ (it still hurts even to write that sentence). Here are a few of my observations:
They abandon consistent disciplines, especially personal study of the Bible. I have personally struggled with keeping a consistent quiet time (or meditation, or devotional, or whatever you want to call it). In some ways, on this point I’m the pot calling the kettle black. But I notice in my own life that when I abandon this practice, I am much more prone to stress and doubt. Things that shouldn’t bother me end up ruining my day. However, on the other hand, when I embrace this practice, I’m able to handle a lot more, and my faith tends to be more robust as well. I’m able to call to mind other times when God showed His faithfulness, answered my questions, or performed miracles. These things reinforce my belief that God is greater than my doubts.
They choose to forgo meeting together with other Christians. We’ve written about the importance of both finding a good church and plugging in there. Whether we’re talking about traditional neighborhood churches, or a home fellowship, more often than not, apostasy starts with neglecting the gathering of believers. Much of this can be traced back to an attitude that says, “I know better.” We as returning missionaries can be tempted to inflate our opinions about our own knowledge and experience. We all have something to learn from each other, and we all have something to give. Lone ranger Christianity almost always devolves into non-Christianity.
They allow outside influences to weaken their faith. One of the things that initially sent Tom down his particular path was a writer who claims to be a bishop, but in fact stands against most pillars of the faith, including the resurrection, miracles, and even the existence of a personal God. We have to be selective in who or what influences us. Paul went so far to say, in Galatians 1:8, “But even if we, or an angel from heaven, should preach to you a gospel contrary to what we have preached to you, he is to be accursed!” It can be tempting to follow bunny trails of doubt, but we have to guard our hearts and minds if we want to remain firm.
This point in particular can be a bit tricky, since we often do need to gain new perspective on matters of faith. But we must use discernment when coming across new ideas. We need to ensure that they’re firmly based in the Biblical text, and to a lesser extent the traditions of the Church. Otherwise they can be very dangerous to take on as our own.
They second-guess what they’ve seen with their own eyes. Many of us have seen literal miracles. Tom had once prayed for a lame man in South Africa who had been bedridden for a year or two. As Tom and his team prayed for this man, they felt led to tell him to get up and walk. And he did–all around the neighborhood. However, Tom’s new worldview didn’t allow for the miraculous. I still don’t fully understand my friend’s explanation for this.
It can be easy for us to forget the wonders that God has done when we come upon even small difficulties. The Israelites had this problem repeatedly in the desert. We need to be proactive in remembering what we’ve seen God do, because if we’re not, the enemy will do everything he can to minimize it and explain it away.
They let pain and loss be their guide. Some of us have had negative experiences while on the mission field, or immediately thereafter. Pain and loss naturally cause us to question our assumptions and beliefs. While the temptation may be to push God and others away, this only serves to isolate us. It’s when things are the worst, when we’re suffering the worst abuses, or when we’ve lost what’s most dear to us, that we need to press into God. Because those are the points when He has the greatest opportunity to comfort us and lift us up.
So, what remains for us then? We pray for our friends. I still sometimes pray for Tom. We need to remember Paul’s exhortation later in Galatians 6:7: “Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary.”
If we remain disciplined, and continue to do good and not lose heart, then God will continue to accomplish His will through us. So let us resolve to stay humble before Him, to pray for our friends, to continue to pray for the lost, and keep up the good fight.
Life After Missions 