
I used this illustration in a few previous posts, here, here, here, here, and here, the first one of those was even before we arrived. The sense that I tried to convey was that a missionary is a connector of two cultures. They stand at the intersection between two ways of life. While joining a new culture you lose some of your own culture, yet you never fully enter the new culture as an insider. You receive the blessing of two cultures, so instead of just grieving the loss of your passport country culture, you become a 150% sort of person (75% old culture and 75% the new). I know all the math brains are shaking their heads at this. Holding both cultures in our person, we become the instrument of sharing In the same way that a bridge enables sharing. As I said in the previous post, it allows riches to pass from both locations to the other. These riches are ideas, habits, resources and most importantly relationships. This sharing happens through the mediation of the missionary. The clash of cultures in the missionary shapes them and they no longer fit in their passport country, but neither in their location fully. Instead, like a bridge, they hover over the water, occupying the midway between two.
Now in the picture I’m not really hovering, but it seems more like I will crumble in a second. The value of this picture is a further implicit meaning. Unintentionally my local friend is bearing most of my weight, while my expat friend gets off lightly. This does represent a truth as well. Locals often bear the burdens of missionaries in heavier ways than those from the missionary’s country. There is both blessing and burden. Or someone wise might say that the burden is the blessing.






