ENGAGE YOUR CULTURE

Short-term Mission: What Can Peru Teach Us?

By Robert J. Priest (MDiv '82), PhD

During the summers of 2005 and 2006, I often hung out at Lima's Jorge Chavez International Airport. Invariably there were short-term mission (STM) groups, identifiable by their T-shirts. It is likely that about a third of all STM participants from the U.S. travel to somewhere in Latin America. The groups I observed in Lima ranged in size from ten to, on one notable occasion, 198. There were Baptists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Nazarenes, Seventh Day Adventists, Methodists, Pentecostals, and Mennonites. They came from the U.S., Canada, England, Scotland, Germany, Korea, Spain, and Paraguay. Some groups were there to join a sister congregation in an evangelistic outreach. Some were there to do construction or medical work, to serve in an orphanage, or to work with homeless street children. There were drama groups, music groups, sports groups, and groups that taught English or gave cooking classes. Some came to learn how they could lobby for justice, others to help indigenous artisans market their goods, and yet others to provide inexpensive wheelchairs for the handicapped.

When I first started researching short-term mission, I noticed that most research focused on the perspectives of the short-termers themselves and outcomes in the lives of those who travel, with little research exploring the experiences and perspectives of those in the receiving communities. I wondered if STM groups were inflicting themselves on others who did not want them. But in two summers of research in Peru, I discovered that most STM groups interface with local churches and other indigenous organizations that are strongly invested in the collaborative projects that these visiting groups make possible. In a survey last summer of 544 evangelical pastors in Lima, a majority (58 percent) reported that their congregation had hosted a visiting group of short-term missionaries from abroad during their current pastorate. And these pastors were overwhelmingly positive about them. Why?

A Little History

To consider this question properly, we first need to understand the Peruvians' context. Prior to the mid-1970s, Protestant churches in Lima were few, lower class, worshiping in small buildings on marginal streets—in marked contrast to large, imposing Catholic churches on central streets and plazas. There were few Protestant churches, but many career missionaries. For example, the Christian and Missionary Alliance (C&MA) had dozens of full-time missionaries from the United States and Canada in Peru.

But an interesting mix of factors came together in the 1970s. Peruvian Christians mobilized for evangelism. A major donor agreed to buy properties on high-visibility, prominent parts of Lima and to pay for construction of large church buildings. Argentinian pastors came to Lima to lead these churches—pastors whose accents and identities associated them with middle and upper-middle classes. Soon the C&MA had large congregations of hundreds and even thousands.

Today there are several thousand evangelical congregations in Lima, and many career missionaries are gone. For Peruvian evangelicos, this has led to a loss of connectedness with resource-rich churches in other parts of the world. And yet Peruvian evangelicos continue to face inequities that make it difficult to share the gospel. In May 2006, a secret meeting was held in Lima, Peru, in the home of EFCA missionary Jim Panaggio between presidential candidate Alan Garcia and sixty Protestant pastors. The pastors complained that while Peru proclaims religious freedom, in fact the Catholic Church is privileged and Peruvian evangelicals are discriminated against. Protestant church properties are taxed; Catholic properties are not and even receive government subsidies. Catholic priests have full access to hospitals and jails. Protestant pastors cannot even visit their own parishioners in the hospital. Only the Catholic Church has full presidential access—exemplified in the annual Catholic Te Deum service, at which the Cardinal delivers a charge to the president.

Today, connectedness between Peruvian evangelicos and resource-rich churches is established through new patterns of global mission, and a central role of career missionaries in Lima involves helping connect Peruvian churches with visiting STM groups. This connectedness can best be understood as a desire among Peruvians for "linking social capital."

Linking Social Capital

In Bowling Alone, Robert Putnam focuses on the importance of social capital (social connectedness) to the good society (and, one might add, to strong healthy churches). Putnam says that historically faith communities were "the single most important repository of social capital in America," with half of all philanthropy and volunteering linked to such faith communities. Putnam contrasts two types of social capital, bonding vs. bridging. Bonding social capital involves social connections among those who are similar demographically—in terms of race, ethnicity, and social class. It focuses inward, creating strong in-group loyalties and "strong out-group antagonism." By contrast, bridging social capital establishes relations across cultural and ethnic divides. And certainly traveling short-term mission groups often bond with those from their own church and sometimes build bridges across ethnic and national divides.

But it is a third kind of social capital that I wish to focus on here. Other scholars, such as Michael Woolcock, focus attention on linking social capital (or what Robert Wuthnow calls status-bridging social capital): vertical connections across marked differentials of wealth, status, and power. These scholars stress that unless people (and churches) who are economically and socially subordinate have social and moral connections upwards to those with resources and power, the benefit of their social capital will be limited. In the Peruvian context, I have noticed two ways in which short-term mission groups, in partnership with Peruvian evangelicos, have effectively utilized linking social capital to promote the spread of the gospel—first, through resource sharing and, second, through helping to open doors.

Resource Sharing

The primary reason that STM groups travel from the U.S. to Peru (rather than vice-versa) is economic, not religious. These groups are not bringing a Christian faith that currently is present in the U.S. or Europe but absent in Peru. Rather, these groups travel from materially wealthy Christian communities to partner with Christian communities that are often numerically and spiritually as vigorous as their own but that are, by comparison, materially poor. Only 8.5 percent of pastors in Lima receive pastoral incomes of more than $500 a month. Fully 72 percent of pastors are paid less than $250 a month, and 41 percent receive less than $125 a month—an income reflective of that of their parishioners.

Peruvian evangelicos are part of lower, lower-middle, and middle classes that—in contrast to Protestant church members in Europe, Korea, or North America—live under incredible economic constraints. The cost of living in Lima is not low. It is difficult to provide healthy diets, health care, or education for one's own children and difficult to pay for expensive church buildings, seminary education, or musical equipment on an income of a $150 to $250 a month. A typical North American or European STM member traveling to Peru and serving for two weeks will expend $1,800 on expenses related to this voluntary service, more than the average annual salary for Peruvian pastors in Lima.

One function, then, of these short-term mission trips is to create links between Christians with more material resources and those with less. One common pattern is for visiting groups to participate in the construction of a templo (a church building). The visiting group may or may not include professional builders, but it will bring resources. For example, I observed one group of Peruvian churches in the summer of 2005 that arranged with visiting high-school-aged youth groups from the United States to help them build their templos. Each visiting group lived in the church facilities and helped with construction and outreach activities (such as teaching English or visiting schools).

Each high schooler provided their host church with $260 for their food and lodging for ten days and $285 toward the costs of construction. This, of course, adds up. A smaller group of fifteen provided $4,275 toward construction costs. A larger group of thirty-three left $9,400. The church that received this larger group is located on a strategic plaza. With a property, now valued at more than a million dollars, that was built over the years through the collaborative aid of twenty-eight visiting short-term mission teams. This is simply one example of a way in which resource-sharing occurs. All over Lima one can find church sound systems or music sets provided by visiting short-term mission groups.

Visiting short-term missionaries often decide to help provide more sustained sponsorship of orphans or seminary students. On the other hand, many visiting short-term mission groups do not provide much in the way of material resources but are nonetheless desired for a different reason.

Opening Doors

Evangelical churches sustain and propagate themselves through active evangelism. But within a historically dominant Catholic order, evangelicos often find doors closed to them, literally and metaphorically. One Peruvian pastor explained, "If I knock on another Peruvian's door, they will see me and turn me away. But if I knock with you, a gringo, standing next to me, they will greet us with a smile, open the door, serve us coffee—and listen attentively to what we say." When Peruvian evangelicos join collaboratively with gringos from abroad, they often find that high schools, English language schools, university classrooms, jails, and hospitals, which normally limit their access, open their doors wide.

As I interviewed a Peruvian leader of an indigenous mission, he described the efforts of his group of Peruvian missionaries to evangelize a town of several thousand. The town priest was strongly opposed to their presence, as was the mayor. But when this Peruvian mission connected with a medical mission team from Kentucky and approached the mayor, offering to bring in a dentist, ophthalmologist, gynecologist, and other doctors, the mayor welcomed them with open arms. The Peruvian missionaries who accompanied them began a church through that event.

My interviewee informed me that this medical team was back again a year later, and he invited me to visit for a couple days. I went and found forty-seven medical short-termers from Kentucky partnering with sixty Peruvian missionaries. Except for the Catholic Church, all other buildings on the town square (mostly government offices) were filled with medical teams. At each point of service, a Peruvian missionary provided "spiritual counsel" in the long line before the medical care. I roved around town, trying to find anyone critical of what was happening but was unable to find anyone to voice anything but appreciation. I was told by a Catholic that the priest was not happy and was staying away. She herself liked what was happening, and what she'd heard. I asked the American medical doctor leading the team if this town did not have dentists or doctors. He answered, "No, people would have to go to Lima." When I asked the Peruvians, they immediately pointed out a government medical post a quarter of a mile away with dentist, doctors, and a gynecologist (although no ophthalmologist). I walked over and interviewed a doctor (general practitioner) and the gynecologist—who had plenty of time on their hands. All of the patients were in the town plaza, being cared for by American doctors. Even they did not verbalize unhappiness at this state of affairs. Their government salary was unaffected.

The visiting team provided medicine and hundreds of free eyeglasses and paid for hotels and food for the sixty Peruvian missionaries who gathered for this outreach event, but they otherwise provided no funds. The prior year they left $2,000 at the end of their time, which the Peruvian missionaries used to rent a small rundown house on the town plaza to house seven missionaries for one year as they established their church in town. These Peruvian missionaries clearly lived with great poverty but were well organized, energetic, and confident.

Peruvians working with visiting STM groups will often say that they use the visitors as carnada, "bait," or an ansuelo, a "hook," to pull in people. As the STM teams teach English, perform dramas, teach tennis, or sing songs, this often provides a means for Peruvian evangelicos to establish connections or to open doors for service and witness. I spent three days observing one group of 198 short-term missionaries from a Minneapolis church that had an eighteen-year partnership with a congregation in Callao, a poor part of Lima. For one week the two congregations collaborated on multiple projects, including an evangelistic circus and a large parade to the town plaza that stretched for blocks. The mayor of Callao attended. The police provided escorts. Joint teams of Peruvians and Americans visited jails and hospitals. The North American team spent more than $400,000 on travel, hotel, and other expenses for this one-week set of activities. Little of this money was transferred directly to Peruvians involved in joint ministry. But this Peruvian church, made up of lower and lower-middle class members, was able to attract several thousand newcomers to visit their church during that week and to build social connections with police, the mayor, and gatekeepers at hospitals and jails—by virtue of linking social capital with North Americans, connections across marked differentials of status, wealth, and power.

The center of Christianity today, in terms of both numbers and vitality, has shifted south into Africa and Latin America. But the center of material wealth and power remains in North America, Europe, and parts of Asia. Short-term mission groups play a key role in bringing Christians from resource-rich portions of the world into collaborative projects of ministry and service with Christians living faithfully under conditions of great economic and social constraint. When short-term mission trips are underpinned by humble service, sacrificial stewardship, and wise leadership, they potentially make important contributions to the global church.

Robert J. Priest (MDiv '82), PhD, is professor of mission and intercultural studies and director of the Doctor of Philosophy/Intercultural Studies Program at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, where he has served since 1999. Previously, he served as a professor at Columbia Biblical Seminary and School of Missions and as a pastor. Born to career missionaries, Dr. Priest was raised in Bolivia and eventually returned to South America to conduct anthropological field research.

© 2007 by Trinity International University. For reprint information, email trinmag@tiu.edu.