It’s a Dangerous Business Frodo

“Mum, I know what I want to be when I grow up,” seven year old Dónal excitedly said, as my mother tried to stop me from twisting round while she dried my hair. “I want to be a spy for MI6, just like James Bond!”

“Oh Dónal, no, no, that kind of job is very dangerous. You’d want to find something less risky…”

“Mum, I’ve decided what I’m going to do when I leave school,” sixteen year old Dónal said, as he stood in the kitchen doorway. “I’m going to join the Irish Air Corps.”

“Oh Dónal, please don’t do that. Think of how your poor mother will be worried sick at home while you’re on duty in some dangerous place.”

“Mum, Dee and I and the kids are moving permanently to South Asia in the next couple of years,” twenty-something year old Dónal said.

“Oh Dónal, think about the children. It’s so dangerous over there, and they’ll stick out, and you could be living safely here…”

These three conversations stick out in my mind. Though taking place over roughly twenty years, I can remember them vividly as they mark out my mother’s response to any sort of danger or risk that would enter her son’s life. Now, of course a parent/grandparent is going to be filled with worry and questions, and legitimate grief over the decision to move half a world away. And we should certainly try hard to help them to deal with that as much as we can. (Maybe I’ll write about some of the ideas we’ve been given/thought of in a future post.)

But what I want to focus on in this post and the next, are two competing responses that we have received from family and church members as we prepared to move overseas. And the first one is to do with an overstated view of risk.

We have been surprised as we have travelled around many churches in Ireland and the UK, speaking about South Asia, at just how many people have commented on the dangers, either remarking on our “bravery” or else (though normally not quite so crudely put) our “insanity”. The most surprising thing is the kind of people from whom these responses have come.

Firstly, we have spoken primarily in Brethren-background churches. The Brethren movement has historically been incredibly strong in sending and supporting mission (and still is in many ways), so it is not as if we are attempting to tread paths untrod by many predecessors within our particular fold.

Secondly, it has predominantly been older people who have made such comments. This is particularly surprising, as one need only go to most missions conferences in the British Isles and count the number of grey heads and it will be painfully obvious that the previous generation has had a huge interest and investment in mission, far more than we see in our own generation. (Again speaking in very broad terms). Mission in “risky” places has been on their radar for years through supporting or sending or praying for people in such places. So why does it seem either particularly brave or absurdly insane to see the next generation move to far-off lands?

I don’t know for certain the answer, and I am not at the moment going to write extensively inquiring into it. For that, I would recommend Hare Translation’s recent two-part blog on the subject, and I will ruminate further on the topic.

What I do want to present are some reasons (some overlapping with the above article) on why these people, and others, do not need to see risk as a negative thing in mission.

1. Risk is (sometimes) imaginary

Most of the fears that we have, and those that others have for us, never actually materialise. The imagination is a powerful thing. And for those who have heard of the difficulties of living in foreign lands, the risk that exists in the realm of the unknown is huge. On one visit to a country in South Asia, my mother panicked as there were violent protests seen on the news in that same country. However, the violence was half a small continent away from the area I was in. A lack of geographical knowledge of the area meant my mother could not process this fact. The imagination filled in the gaps in her knowledge. One way of mitigating against this fact in our own hearts and in the lives of others is simple. Knowledge. Being informed about situations, and informing others, helps to fill the gaps of ignorance that will otherwise be filled by the imagination.

2. Risk is relative

This is related to the above. Let me use the example of my father-in-law. He is a farmer. Now, in Ireland farming has the highest workplace fatalities of any sector, with an incredible amount of non-fatal accidents also occurring every year. And yet my father-in-law has questioned the wisdom of crossing the road in Dublin.

It would be easy to laugh at the above, and it definitely falls into the category of number 1 as well. However, that is not the full story. On one level there is an objective standard by which we could measure which is safer: farming or crossing the road. On another level, there is a subjective factor at play. My father-in-law has grown up farming. He has spent hundreds of thousands of hours, since he could walk, working at his craft. And he is one of the safest farmers I have ever met. Were I to do all the same tasks as he, the level of risk would increase exponentially. Why? Because of experience. I may navigate city roads safer than he, but he will always be safer than me on the farm.

As point 1 and 2 overlap we find that those who have the knowledge to mitigate imagination can also gain the experience needed to make a situation much safer. Of course, it is safer for a South Asian to navigate life in South Asia. But I also hope that after 5 years it will be much safer for me to navigate life there than the day I first visited.

3. Risk is not always negative

Risk is often healthy. Faced with this idea many would immediately recoil. But it’s true. Risk is healthy. And regardless of how ridiculous our culture has become in terms of health and safety requirements; we still act in ways that show that risk is good. Every time we put a child on their feet to take their first steps, we run the risk of them falling to hurt themselves. And from that point on, risk helps to grow us in many ways.

One way is that it fosters intentionality. To enter a situation that is new, and potentially risky, one needs to be sure that it is worth it. So, for the missionary in tough places, risk forces them to remember the task which they have been sent for, making it harder to become lax in fulfilling their calling.

Another way is that it teaches dependence. Society loses something when it only pushes for independent living. The body of Christ is different, it works on interdependence, where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Risk pushes us to rely on others to help navigate problems.

There are many other benefits to be explored, but suffice to say, in an age where we are risk-averse rather than risk-aware, we need to actively work to reclaim the benefits of risk.

4. Risk is Biblical

I’ve saved the most important factor for last. Risk is acknowledged, mitigated, then accepted by Jesus and the Apostle’s as part of the battle of His kingdom breaking into this world. Read Matthew 10 for example. Jesus does not merely say, “There’s wolves about, watch out…” He says, “I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves.” Risk is part of the mission.

Now, he immediately commends mitigation by saying, “Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” And of this we have more to say in the next post.

But then he continues to acknowledge the risk that will come, from Jews and Gentiles, parents and children. And it should not be surprising. This is what Christ faced.

We could write many books on this point. But it is clear even from a cursory reading of Scripture; as we obey, we go. As we go, we face risk. And one day, we will leave all that behind and be with Christ. Scripture is clear on it, and we would rather obey God than stop short of following Him because of “risk”. Have a read of Hebrews 11 and see the outcome of the lives of those who embraced risk as they ran by faith.

Furthermore, we could ask the question about the many missionaries of days of old, who did not count the sufferings of the present time worthy of comparison with the glory to be revealed, not only in themselves, but the lives of the lost to whom they ministered. These forebears in the faith risked sickness and shipwreck just to get to their destination! They did not have cushioned Boeing 777 seats to get them there. And once they arrived, the risks far outweighed those of the modern day. And yet they did it as they followed Christ, for the sake of his glory among the nations. And most Christians (rightly) celebrate their sacrifice and acts of faith, considering the risk worth it. That’s not to mention the majority of our brothers and sisters in the world at the moment who face such difficulties as a daily part of life. Ours is the strange situation in the West. To recognise danger and risk as ordinary in the life of the believer is a Biblical way of assessing the world. Risk-aware, but not risk-averse.

Much more could be said on the topic of risk. And I don’t want to paint it as one-dimensional either. There are legitimate reasons and ways to mitigate against risk, to a degree. We should not be foolish in our actions, but wise as serpents.

That being said, dear brother or sister. This is one of two areas in which your response to those going to the field can possibly be discouraging, and potentially unbiblical. It should not be surprising that people whose lives have been transformed by Jesus should be willing to obey him in whatever ways he leads, even when it is by the world’s standards “risky”. It is neither brave nor crazy. In fact, it is the most logical outcome of a life of faith. (I will yet again refer you to Hebrews 11 on this point).

In the next post I will dive into the other side of the coin, an overstated view of sacrifice. But in balancing out, let’s not swing on a pendulum. Remember, the bloody death of a carpenter’s son on the cross was a mockery and foolishness to many. Yet do we not praise God for it, having had our eyes opened to its power? How much less should we consider risk in the lives of those who offer very small sacrifices in comparison, as they walk the path he trod. It ought to be the most normal thing in the world.