It may not be common thinking but I know it’s what I used to think - mission people and organizations were perceived with a “serious tone.” There’s even an “unreachable place” many of us faith dwellers attempt to find after working in short-term-mission scenarios when lifestyle allows.

Sure, many mission folk are on the front lines that define life and death, struggling with constant financial challenges, feeling their way through different cultures and some even face harsh animosity from the communities in which they live. But . . . let’s not take ourselves toooooooo seriously.

In the mission outfit with which I’m involved, EDGE OUTREACH, you’ll find messy, passionate ragamuffins who are extremely diverse. Further, we just stand amazed to imagine how God would make a difference through our hands. We’re hoping, dreaming, praying and struggling just like everyone on the faith journey.

EDGE work is serious but when people of faith live, work, pray and daily connect together in the Story, there’s humor. I mean at the office there’s a group of us middle-age guys working in a cramped space and after long periods of time - we’ve got to have an aromatic candle lit – just got to.

And another thing, do we dare imagine the humor Jesus and the disciples must have experienced living in their faith clan? Like ribbing Peter for weeks after watching him “freak” trying to walk on water or watching James and John’s reaction when they begged them to pick who would be 3rd among the ranks.

EDGE’s got a story or two, too!
Here’s one -

In the winter of 2002 our first Romania team was dropped into the southern part of the country. One day they were doing home visits for a local pastor to help “check in” on parishioners that hadn’t been seen in a while. Many homes were located in concrete multi-level high-rises, remnants of the communist regime that fell in 1989. This particular afternoon, Janet and Claudia, found themselves groping down a long, pitch black, freezing cold hallway several stories up - literally feeling along the wall for the number 24 on a door. Finally, while dragging along their timid translator, Madelaena, the numbers burst like brail to the blind through their fingertips.

A quick knock resulted in the door being cracked open. Then it just about swung off its hinges and standing before them was a short robust Romanian woman clad for winter in a babushka, wool skirt and sweater. She froze shell-shocked by the foreigners. In another beat she screamed at the top of her lungs and began speaking in a fast, unintelligible singsong manner while turning her back toward them. In one fluid motion she hiked up her skirt, wrestled her wool knickers down, bent over and exposed her bare bottom.

At EDGE OUTREACH we pride ourselves in cultural training. It’s a part of each team’s preparation for international travel. Unfortunately we had failed miserably to counsel Janet and Claudia in an appropriate response to such a bare-bottom greeting.

But, EDGE folk do have a tendency to think quick on their feet. Neither chose to show any sign of surprise and saw simply one choice. They looked at each other and said, “Lets pray.” There, in the doorway, they each laid hands on the bare-ass of their new friend and prayed with all the fervor they could muster for her, her bottom and her family.

Afterward they were invited deeper into her tiny home, greeted even more heartily and served coffee. Only later did they realize the woman assumed anyone visiting from North American would be a doctor. She’d had recent hip surgery and wanted to show off her scar and get a second opinion on the surgery’s success.

Several from the Romania teams gather and this story and more hilarity here at the EDGE Podcast page.

Bottoms Up and Thirsting for More,
Mark Hogg

I want to express the honor it is to write among this group at Christian Century.

Gordon, thanks for your encouragement to so many and further for your willingness to be raw and open, my friend.

If you followed Gordon’s “water chronicles” earlier this year, it’s evident the power all of us as ordinary people hold in our hands to save lives. His heart and emerging passion for the poor of the world to have pure water is something I am seeing captivate and take hold of many.

I write from Louisville, KY but I’m from much deeper south. If I got sweet tea and dark chocolate several times a day - life is durn good. My heart beats with the prodigal son, the thankful whore and the little drummer boy. Trucks are better than cars. And, like Mr. Beaver says, “Aslan is on the move.” When I’m too old and gassy for anyone to want me around, my dream is to play the tenor sax in smoky bars with a band called “Abraham” and tell Bible stories through the sounds of jazz.

My wife, The Marsh (Marcia), gave up a great job as a graphic designer to be a certified nursing assistant with Hospice and bathes dying alzheimer’s and dementia patients in nursing homes. In the winter, she makes killer soups. She’s an excellent house painter. When she laughs the room brightens. Her dog, Jaz, is a Walker Coonhound.

Many of my experiences come out of a weird and wonderful group of people with whom I work – the clan at EDGE OUTREACH. I’ve worked there since 1995. EDGE is most passionate about pure water for the people of the world, good vision for the poor and works of mercy in our local community. Honestly, it’s a unique context. It is frustrating to watch faith based organizations become tempted to bind down into a corporate or denominational mindset only to end up with dreams and potential life saving work dying on the vine.

EDGE does seem to get things done. The EDGE clan is a people of faith who fight against corporate mindset and the obstacles of time-consuming, committee-driven decisions. We wrestle with personal wealth (I’m not really just talking about money) and work for the poor in an attempt to daily pour out our lives to make a difference. Personally, I don’t deserve the chance to work with these people. They are great servants and passionate lovers of people. My life is different because of them.

We push through fear and remember something important is going on in each moment. Opportunities are thrown in our faces everyday and we can choose to take advantage of them or not. When you make yourself available, risks can be high. Planning is important, but instead of waiting for perfect times, money or the right situation, we’ve resigned ourselves to make soup with what we’ve got. Like some groups, we have extreme differences in personal history, theology and politics. But our differences don’t seem to matter and are rarely discussed. We work closely. We struggle often. We love each other madly. We pray together daily at 9:30AM. We believe intently in what we’re doing.

EDGE stands next to the church – I love the church. However, if you’ve read my “Wanderlust” articles I attempt to lay out some of my frustration with the big “C” church – bureaucracy, politics, lack of imagination and such. Forgive me, it comes out from time to time.

This diverse group has redefined church for me, become my community and has been again and again the vision of the Father leaping from the porch toward me, a stunned prodigal, standing broken. And, like the call of Mother Teresa, we desire to “quench the thirst of Christ,” addressing those needs most important in the moment right in front of us. He cries out through his people, “I thirst.” My emotions take over and I can paint a flowered picture of EDGE staff and volunteers. But we’re all very human and it’s most enjoyable for us to tell and celebrate how God can work through ordinary folks.

Remember - if you don’t stir the pot, it’ll burn on the bottom.

To The Kingdom, Mark Hogg

Often I wonder about the good intentions of people of faith. I think we really do have good intentions but it seems we often miss what the actual “cost” may be to “do” the work of servanthood. There may be pieces that can’t be realized ahead of time. Yeah, I believe we do have good intentions. But, as my grandfather used to always say, “If your gonna do it, do it till its right.” A church mission team working in north western Kenya was staying at a retreat center where the water was supplied by a well and storage tanks on a hill above the center. Each morning women would carry water down the hill in large jars on their heads to fill toilets and basins throughout the center. Preparing to return several years later the team decided it would be a great idea to take some plumbers from the church and pipe the water from the hill directly into the center. This would save the women their hard “back-breaking” water haul each morning. In addition it would give immediate access to water in the rooms and kitchen of the retreat center. These were good if not honorable intentions. However, overnight the women water carriers found themselves out of a job and their families immediately suffering. Further, with easier access to water in the center there were extra demands put on the well. Within several months the well dried up. Another church mission team was working in a village in Haiti. After installing a water purification unit in a village they planned to replace the communities old but operating hand pump with an electrical pump in the well. During the installation the shaft slipped and fell 100 feet tangled in rebar. Stuck in the well casing virtually irrepairable. The people of the village were then forced to walk 3 miles getting contaminated water at another well. Then, that well dried up because of the extra use. With great sacrifice and stick-to-itiveness the church and mission team made a decision to truck in purified water to the community until something could be done. A rescue operation has been put together equipped with a variety of creative tools in an attempt to repair the well. If the repair cannot be done, the church will drill a NEW well for the community because of their mistake. Sticking with it. Florence is in her 80’s and rarely traveled more than 100 miles from her small Kentucky community. She’s a great missionary. Her work quiet and powerful. It’s longevity and commitment reaches over decades to people she has never known or met. Around town local folks have realized the value of sending quality Christmas cards to Florence. And, throughout the year for special occasions she prefers bed sheets as a gift of choice. Nestling down each evening in her home in Crestwood, Kentucky she goes to work. Old Christmas cards are remade. Cut, shaped, and reassembled with messages of hope. Next to her chair are boxes to place the cards in and when filled she sends them to missionaries around the world to give out to people with whom they work. Then with hope and prayer Florence awaits correspondence that the box arrived safely. When not making Christmas cards Florence tears bed linens into long strips. Using a homemade contraption of wood she winds the strips into rolls and tucks them into more boxes in order to send to clinics where missionaries need bandages for the sick.

I caught up with her one day and as we were talking she suddenly got emotional. As the tears rolled down her cheeks she told me the source of a deep joy. Florence had just received word a box of bandages she sent had arrived at its destination. On que I expressed my celebration, too. However, was soon stopped dead in my tracks to face the limitations of my own understanding of commitment like looking in a mirror. Florence takes her work seriously. She prays for and tracks every single box sent out. She had been praying for that particular box of bandages to be released from a customs office for eight years.

Where to Wander to Next?
Mother Teresa’s personal calling was a response to Jesus cry on the cross, “I Thirst.” She spent her life attempting to “quench the thirst of Jesus.” The existence of her ministry was based on the same. In each Sisters of Charity chapel above every altar are the words, “I Thirst.”

Emerging throughout the world is a water crisis like none we’ve ever experienced. I’ve often wondered why we don’t take water ministry seriously in the church. Ordinary people can learn to use incredibly effective water tools. It doesn’t have to be left to engineers and folks with lab coats. The church can play a powerful role in saving lives and letting water share the Gospel story. If we’re doing work in developing countries, let’s consider taking along skills like water purification, well drilling, health education and hand pump repair.

But, doing mission work like this we would be forced to change the way we are “doing” missions. “Wanderlust” is long term commitment, relational, sacrificial small living and thirst quenching grace.

Let’s quite talking about our problems at home like gas prices. Let’s ask the right questions to do the mission work right. Will these gas prices diminish our passion for the Gospel to be taken into distant lands? Is our sacrificial commitment so strong that no matter what the costs are at home we will live even hungrier and more thirsty to do that which we are called to do? As the richest people on the planet, how thirstily committed are we willing to live in order to live for those who will drink water today that will make them sick tomorrow?

Mark Hogg

“Wanderlust” is usually reserved to describe the hearts of drifters, gypsies, carnies and prodigals whose passion for travel and exploration usually govern not only ones’ lifestyle but decisions and relationships, too.

Though never working the carnival nor evolving from gypsy lineage, I often hold fast to a prodigal’s heart that can call on a breeze. Wonderful possibilities are envisioned and I can quickly be off to distant lands chasing bright shiny objects if I’m not careful.

Over the last 30 years the mission work of the church has grown to epic proportions. Though with good hearts, we’ve sprinkled love like pixie dust assuming a dab is all that’s needed. Living out the gospel is difficult to do in snapshot segments. Projects of value and acceptance of culture are critical allies on the mission field but more so are long term relationships. There’s a conquering element and even an arrogance to North American culture. In a time when world wide water and hunger issues face us daily we must ask ourselves if we’ve been been feeding our own cultural and insatiable thirsts on the mission field. In these changing times shouldn’t we look back and evaluate our effectiveness with those we are called to visit and hope to satisfy a need.

In the early years “missionary” was reserved for people living in distant lands. They emerged every few years to visit churches in North America, showing carousel after carousel of slides to encourage congregations with stories of hope and wonder. Today many North American Mission Culture “missionaries” are recognized by slick brochures, conference booths and large teams of smiling faces. Our culture seems to have dictated a “mission-cation” style of short-term trip to infuse our “restless wanderers” sitting in the pews who may need a prodding.

This way of mission ministry leads to planning meetings where questions echo like, “Where are we going next year?” and “What are we doing next time?” We seek the thrill of the experience to quench our thirst for excitement. The “where” has become more important than asking “how should we go about missions.” The “what” has become more important than wondering if we should we do a project just because we can.

Do. Done. Next.
A pastor friend of mine was driving through the countryside of Ghana with a guide on a mission trip. Over the course of several hours he noticed again and again they were passing empty churches. He eventually asked the guide why there were so many churches empty and lifeless. The guide replied, “The North Americans like to come here and build churches. . .So we let them.”

Mark Hogg