#ReclaimMissionary

mis·sion·ar·y

/ˈmiSHəˌnerē/

noun

1. 1.

   a person sent on a religious mission, especially one sent to promote Christianity in a foreign country.

   synonyms:

   evangelist, apostle, proselytizer, preacher, minister, priest; historicalblack robe "he was a missionary in Sierra Leone"

adjective

1. 1.

   of, relating to, or characteristic of a missionary or a religious mission.

   "missionary work"

My name is Nicolette and I am a missionary. Yes, I said the m-word. A colonizer clothed in Christ. I am the same person that came to all the countries filled with people that look like me to hand out bibles and accumulate natural resources. Like my theology, I am both/ and. 

My name is Nikki and I am Afro- Lutheran. Yes, I am both black and Lutheran from the North American context. I am the same St. Paul police offer and Charleston shooter that gunned down people that look like me and will never be charged with murder. Like my theology, I am both/ and.

My name is Nic because Nicolette is what I associate with the period I was first introduced to racism. I was always Nikki in my home and in the classroom until I began school in a predominately white neighborhood and all my teachers called me "Nicolette." Nicolette was foreign to me. It felt like entering Ellis Island and being renamed to fit into society even though Nikki is a very American name. Nicolette is the name strangers call me. Nikki is for those that are like family. You though, can call me Nic as it feels fluent.

The name commentary may seem a little obnoxious but stay with me. It is a very mild example of theology of accompaniment. Identity and self awareness comes as early as learning your name. How many people attribute their identity to a last name? Better question, how many people change their names for whatever reason? I have been Nikki as long as I have been able to acknowledge my existence on this earth. After ten years of life being Nikki, someone greets me and then informs me that I am Nicolette. Regardless of me trying to correct the individuals, they neglect my request and continue to call me by something less comfortable. Historically, that is what missionaries have done. They have entered countries of brown and black people, informed them that they were savages and tried to then assign an identity and culture to indigenous groups. No, being called Nicolette did not come with Small pox, genocide, and a bible but it did come with what feels like an erasure of who I am. The reality is missionaries played a major role in the cultural genocide of hundreds if not thousands of indigenous people. Languages have been lost, traditions and and cultural items have been destroyed. So many people do not know the God of their ancestors and that is an injustice. The traditional missionary has been a tool in the colonization of the world. 

Theology of accompaniment is how we as a Global Church address mission. It is not our job to determine justice and injustice in a unfamiliar context. We are not obligated to lead or control movements and ministries in our international settings. We are here to accompany our neighbors in their journeys. We are here to support, uplift, and advocate for our international counterparts. Theology of accompaniment means that this is not our divine calling to civilize folk and acquire land for the King the way Christians before us have. Instead we have to acknowledge our power and privilege in international contexts. We are obligated to serve with and not for or to our comrades. It is a mutual exchange of ideas, thoughts, opinions, and services. I remember the summer I moved to Texas to work at Lutherhill Outdoor Ministries. My supervisor said, "Is there a name you prefer to go by?" I told them I preferred Nic and there were no questions asked. They did not try to tell me who I needed to be or what I should feel comfortable being referred. They understood that my name was a major part of my identity and Lutherhill was a safe space to be my own authentic self. Yes, it is "just" a name to some people but think about how long it takes for parents to name their children or how pulled they are to a name. Your name is the first part of your identity which will somehow shape you in the long run. Missionaries are not called to name a group of people, to name their needs, or to name their new religion. We are called to ask questions and to create spaces with our partners so that they may name these things.

A few weeks ago I went through a New Missionary Personnel Orientation and we discussed the origins of the term missionary. It is remarkable how damaging this word has become seeing as though my church body has strayed so far from using missionary. We have began saying missional as if that is a thing. What the heck is missional anyway? Part of my ethnicity is African American and my ancestors too have been effected by missionaries. Many if not most West Africans were not Christian before they arrived. They did not speak english. Missionaries played a major role in the europeanizing and assimilation of enslaved Africans. While I am of the diaspora in the United States, my skinfolk experienced missionaries in various contexts both in the Americas and in Africa. We are scarred and damaged by christian imperialism.

So how do I then reconcile with my history and my vocation? What does it mean to be a Person of Color (POC) missionary? Am I a race traitor for perpetuating this White Man's Burden? Have I sold out by the standards of my ancestors or can I help bring glory back to the Kin-dom of God? I wish I knew the higher power of my ancestors but that is not truly an option at this point. My heritage is mixed. Languages and cultures have been lost. I have adopted and celebrated the God of my understanding introduced to me as an infant on my baptism. This has not prevented me from seeking and celebrating in the glory of Afro- American Religions. Ancestor worship brought over by my skin folk is what triggered revolutions across the Western Hemisphere. These practices empowered my people to seek liberation and it is liberation that grounds me in my Christian tradition. I can be a Christian and celebrate the faith of all people. I can also be a Christian and serve my global neighbor faithfully. It is difficult for a church such as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) to continue our call to mission with the reality of their role also in missionary imperialism. Even though we may be aware of our sins and have  adjusted our theology around mission to better address community, to sit down and seek forgiveness and understanding from every individual we have traumatized is nearly impossible. Most of this damage is generational and long standing. I would push to say most of it is irreversible. I do believe we can seek reconciliation by the work we do on the ground. We send doctors and nurses on short term deployment. We provide funding for schools and churches that have strong missions in local communities. U.S. congregations come together to fund Mosquito nets for families affected by Malaria. When we are permitted, we educate people on sexual and reproductive health in an effort to decrease the number of people infected with HIV/ AIDS. These are things I can be proud of about my faith tradition. Missionary does look different today than what it once did. After spending two weeks with missionaries both old and new, I am certain that we are sent with love and compassion in our hearts.

My intention this year is to reclaim the word missionary. During our New Missionary Personnel Orientation a number of us agreed that this word is in fact problematic and we are willing to wrestle with what that means. I will be spending the next year in Grand Bourg, Argentina. I will be serving Iglesia de San Lucas as a vicar.

vic·ar

/ˈvikər/

noun

(in the Roman Catholic Church) a representative or deputy of a bishop.

(in the Episcopal Church) a member of the clergy in charge of a chapel.

(in the Church of England) an incumbent of a parish where tithes formerly passed to a chapter or religious house or layman.

This will look a lot like the role of a pastor and I won't be surprised if pastora is what I get called occasionally. In Argentina I will be dealing with some of the opposite racial dynamics that I describe as a missionary. I will be entering a european country that once had a significant African and Indigenous population. A reality in Argentina is that poor people are referred to as negro and there is great animosity towards other Latin American and Caribbean migrants. How do I serve a community where I may be looked unfavorably upon as a Venezuelan, Brazilian or Dominican? How often will I be mistaken for a sex worker instead of a pastor?  Yet I am also American. How does my nationality impact my role in a church and community? Regardless, I am a missionary. 

For those who decide to take this journey with me, it is my hopes that you will develop a new understanding of the work many people are called to do. This is going to be a transformative year for me as it will be my first time serving abroad. I want this blog and my sermons to translate that so feedback is welcomed. Ask me questions. Engage with me here and feel free to always share the work of my colleagues and mine.

My name is Nic and I will #ReclaimMissionary.

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