A Nation's Own Sons and Daughters

They have put it off, postponed it, re-scheduled it various times, but late last week I was finally scheduled to meet once again with the church leaders. Over six weeks have passed since I first encountered their spirited opposition.

Then, as I was springing open the padlocks securing our front door, balancing an armload of bananas to bring with me to the meeting (since the oranges were such a hit last time), I received an SMS on my cell phone. The meeting was canceled yet again.

Now, with Christmas upon us, it won't happen until mid-January, at the earliest. With Christmas also comes summer holidays, and I hear that little happens in Maputo for three or four weeks.

My heart sank.

Since my last meeting with these leaders, I have taken their concerns and shaped them into a strategy that I feel works for everyone. I've sold it to our organization, to our board of directors, to supporters who will finance the project. I even had a conversation with a Mozambican elder who advises these church leaders. Wonderful, he said. Just what Mozambique needs.

Only I keep hitting my knees on this final hurdle. My attempts to sell the strategy to the leaders of the local churches has given me nothing but bruises layered on top of figurative bruises. Some on my knees, some on my ego.

I haven't successfully separated this project from the broader politics of development work swirling around me. The leaders of the church, it seems, are holding this project hostage until we bring money to the table. There's no point teaching us about business if you don't give us money at the same time, they argue.

It is painful for those people who are used to receiving charity to suddenly be asked to provide their own resources. They doubt themselves and their own abilities. And some even think that we're bluffing: that eventually we'll "cave in" and bring a truckload of money (your money -- donor money -- I might add). But that money would soon run out, leaving everyone in the same position as they are in today, and having dug the dependency rut a little deeper.

They see us as being selfish and greedy for having money and not providing it. The perception prevails in Africa that money grows on trees in the West. (Comparatively speaking, that may even be true.)

Our micro-enterprise development strategy is based upon the principle that Mozambicans have within themselves and within their communities the resources to be successful on their own, without being dependent upon foreigners. The strategy is also built upon the principle that Mozambicans are best equipped to convince Mozambicans about the reality of this.

Yes, it can be harmful to give money. Jesus taught that money is poisonous. That's not to say that everyone who indulges succumbs. It's just a well-reasoned caution. And this particular group of church leaders is intoxicated.

Their intoxication is not representative of the whole of Africa. Right under my nose, I spoke with my good friend Mario, who is sobered to the reality of Africa.

Sobered to the reality that Africans have all the resources that they need to survive and thrive. God has ensured this. He wouldn't have made it any other way. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?", Jesus asks his disciples (in Matthew 10:29, 31), "Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. ...So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."

Mario gave me much needed encouragement for insisting that Africans have the resources to help Africans. Africans need to take risks, he said, so that they can value their possessions. "If foreigners keep giving us things, we'll never learn the value of money, or the value of hard work."

Mario's wisdom unleashed for me a compelling insight: if I really believe that Africans are best equipped and most credible to implement any development or evangelism work in Africa, then I ought to also believe that Africans are best equipped and most credible to convince Africans that such work is valuable and desirable in the first place.

Our micro-enterprise development strategy exists in order "to identify and remove any barriers to economic development that exist for church and community members."

I keep banging my knees against this hurdle because I myself am a barrier.

My organizational affiliation, my affluence, my language, my culture, the colour of my skin. All of these factors reinforce one another to form an insurmountable, impenetrable barrier.

I am a barrier to the success of my own program because, as long as I am the "front man," as long as it is me pitching the program, this group of church leaders will expect me to capitulate and bring money to the table. And they'll prevent me from implementing the strategy until I do.

In order to stay true to our strategic vision, I must remove myself from the equation and allow Mozambican to interface directly with Mozambican. In order to achieve success, I must surrender a degree of control over, and credit for, the program.

God has laid down the gauntlet for me. You say you want My will to be done? Are you willing to step aside from this project? Are you willing to withdraw your ego from this project in order for My will to be realized?

In order to stay true to God's calling, I must remove myself from the front lines.

God never promises that His call will be easy, but to step back from my own project is a challenge. Wow.

My work will move up-stream, with me in a less visible, less central role. When I return from holidays, the task will change from trying to get airtime with the committee of leaders directly in order to sell the need for the micro-enterprise strategy, to supporting, encouraging and equipping people like Mario to sell the strategy to his nation's own sons and daughters.