On being Sent
Lena and I are sitting in a house on the side of a valley much broader and at an altitude lower than our flat in Manali. Despite this and the fact that Easter is over for the year, snow lies everywhere. Why? Well we are at a much higher latitude than Manali, in Sweden on leave with Lena’s family. Six months ago her mother, 95 year old Annie, moved from the Scanian village of Löberöd in Sweden’s far south where she had lived for 31 years, to the house her daughter Elna and son-in-law Hans Bolin had just bought.
Annie is a remarkable woman. Last year, over a decade after she was widowed, and close to a half century after she and her family re-settled in Sweden following 17 years in India, an article about her featured in an issue of a journal of an association representing the region in the province of Skåne where she then lived. She and her husband Assar were, during the central part of their working careers, missionaries in India.
The word “missionary” carries colonial baggage dating from the time when western missionaries worked under the protection of western military and economic might in societies whose values, cultures and identities were formed largely by other religions. One of the word’s range of meanings is “reflecting or prompted by the desire to persuade or convert others, e.g., ‘the missionary efforts of political fanatics’”. That word “fanatic” expresses people’s suspicions. What sort of a person would leave home, family, friends, career, money, comfort and a society in which they were comfortable, supported and knew how things worked and to which they belonged, for a highly uncertain future? In earlier times a large proportion of missionaries met premature, nasty death. Some still do. Surely something akin to fanaticism must lie behind such the decision to go. That suspicion was and is common both in sending societies - until recently these were usually western powers whose ruling classes generally paid lip service to a deist form of Christianity that frowned upon such enthusiasm - and receiving societies, which had generally suffered so much at the hands of colonial power that they were suspicious of anything from the West.
However, the original meaning of the word “missionary” is both more innocent and more profoundly radical than its detractors imagine. Derived from the Latin verb “missio”, “I send”, it recognises that all followers of Jesus, not just a particular clique, are sent by Him out into the world, to live out, communicate, bear witness in word and deed to His good news. During His ministry Jesus sent out (in Koine Greek, “apesteilen”) his 12 apostles (apostolōn) to “proclaim as you go, saying, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons.” ( Matthew 10.1-8) In one of His post-resurrection appearances He gave them the gift of the Holy Spirit and sent them out: “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” (John 20.21) And most famously, in “The Great Commission” the risen Jesus enjoined His followers to “ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” (Matt. 28.19-20) This because “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” (Matt. 20.19)
The Great Commission sets alarm bells ringing today. In our jaded, post-modern era claims to truth and authority are viewed with suspicion, if not dismissed outright. A proper response to this suspicion would require a book; I’ll make only a summary response here. If it is true that Jesus was raised from death, surely His claim to authority should be treated seriously. Anyone who can defeat “the last enemy” deserves serious respect indeed! And, having noted that what He told His followers to do was in no wise violent or imperialistic, we should note what missionaries actually do in our time. And that’s where mother-in-law Annie’s story is valuable.
Many missionaries are remarkable people. They are not fanatics, but they are highly motivated to do good, and routinely make sacrifices that most people would baulk at. Annie is no exception. Despite her 95 years she retains her vitality and story-telling ability. For Annie, having 3 daughters attend boarding school far from the family’s home in India’s central province, Madhya Pradesh, was perhaps the most difficult sacrifice.
But when I asked her, seated in the living room of the house on the side of the valley in central Sweden where she now lives, “Why did you go out as a missionary?” she was calm but emphatic. She had followed a calling from God. Asked to describe that call, however, she was less definite. At first she said that she didn’t know how to describe it, then that it came in different ways to different people.
“So how did God express His Call to you?” I persisted, knowing how difficult this can be to explain. She replied that she had received a ‘maning’ (exhortation) from God, and that she had been “led in different ways”, and through the occurrences of her life.
That, I thought, was still too general and vague. “Give me an example please,” I continued, although in Swedish an equivalent for “please” is rarely used. So she spoke about a missionary from Africa who had done a kind of “show and tell” about her work for Annie’s Sunday School, deeply impressing the then 12 year old girl. This sort of thing also happened every year at “bible days” held by local associations (called föreningar) of Evangeliska Fosterlands Stiftelsen (known as Swedish Evangelical Mission outside of Sweden). EFS is a remarkable lay organisation within the Lutheran Church of Sweden that exists to share the Christian gospel both within and outside of Sweden. Only 15,000 members strong today, it has given birth to several churches, at least 2 of which, in Tanzania and Ethiopia, number their membership in the millions. One year a missionary who had returned from Ethiopia made a particularly strong impression on Annie Jönsson, who began to think of herself as a missionary.
At one level there seems nothing “spiritual” about this. Many organisations have known how important it is to inspire and enlist young people for their cause, and have taken steps to do so. In 1930s’ and ‘40s’ Germany Hitler Youth held mass rallies, hikes and the like. Today we hear of extremist Muslim groups that use the internet and other forms of information technology to capture the hearts and minds of young Muslims, some of whom become suicide bombers. These, to me, are obscene parodies of the missionary endeavour, focusing on power and hate, rather than service and love. It also grieves me that many western churches seem to have stopped trying to engage their young people in “great adventures for God”. Have we in the West been intimidated by the liberal and humanist line that the Gospel is just another form of imperialism, and that it is wrong to share it in case we disturb the culture of those we imagine ourselves sent to?
Coming from northern India’s steep Kullu Valley to central Sweden’s broad Åredalen has helped me to put this issue into perspective. It is in valleys such as this one, in central and northern Sweden, starting over 150 years ago, that poor, newly literate Swedish farmers and their families met to read and live out their Bibles. There are no obvious trappings of power here. These were not Vikings, or some northern European version of ISIS. The twin gift - reading the Gospel - helped to liberate them from poverty and an oppressive, clergy-centric Lutheran church culture. They rediscovered Martin Luther’s great insight - the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father and the fellowship of God the Holy Spirit - and they wanted and felt called by God to share this gift. And so began a marvellous missionary story to their local areas, to all of Sweden and to Africa and India, which continues to this day, and of which Annie Jönsson’s story has been a wonderful cameo. So no, proper missionaries are not agents of imperialism or western domination!
I have shared the human side of Annie’s process of discernment regarding her missionary call. For her the divine confirmation that she was called to be a missionary in India was expressed in finding a husband who also felt called to be a missionary in India. Inevitably, much of our conversation centred around this. In summary, Annie was concerned that she was becoming old but still had no husband. She prayed that God would show her one, and God brought Assar Nilsson into her life.
Now began a long period of training and preparation for them both, the consequences of Call. Annie trained to be a nurse, while Assar, who had already studied at agricultural school, trained and was ordained as a priest in the Church of Sweden. With what Annie feels was this perfect preparation the couple made their way in 1951, via a period of language study in north India, to their home and place of work in the village of Seja, in rural Madhya Pradesh, a name which means Central Province. For the next 17 years, including periods of furlough home in Sweden, they lived and worked in the heart of India.
So what did Annie and Assar Nilsson do? Two statements Annie made seem significant. The first was that “Everything was just as important”. That is they turned their hands to what needed to be done. The second was obvious but often forgotten: their goal was “to help them”. For Annie “them” didn’t simply mean the local Indians with whom she came in contact. She exercised a ministry of hospitality with other missionaries. Many of these lived in the nearby regional city of Chhindwara where the headquarters of the region’s Lutheran Church was located. They needed to get away from time to time. For them Annie became a hostess. Assar taught farming techniques and practice, cared for the youth he was teaching and was responsible for the mission’s farm. In his third period of service he inaugurated a farm training school. As a pastor he also helped in the local Lutheran congregation. And that word “helped” is critical. What was true 50 years ago for Annie and Assar is even more so today: a missionary is someone who helps, contributing their skills and life experience in ways that the people to whom they have been sent experience as humble, relevant help, not patronising domination.
In 1969 the Nilsson family - Annie, Assar and their three daughters, all born in India - left it for the last time as a family. There followed a difficult period of readjustment to life back in Sweden. Often the process of being sent home can be more difficult than being sent out. One wonders whether India has not affected the Nilssons more than they have affected India. Two of the daughters followed in their mother’s footsteps, becoming missionaries themselves. And two of the daughters have employed their cross-cultural skills in cross-cultural marriages! Even now, 46 years on, Annie’s memories, thought processes and conversation remain profoundly influenced by the great land to which she was sent.
David Reichardt
