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Asia Undercover
For 2,000 years, marauding armies have stormed through Tajikistan. From Alexander the Great to the Arab Muslims, to Genghis Khan and his Mongol hordes, to the Russian Czars and the Soviets, the people of Tajikistan have rarely experienced freedom.
Tajikistan is the poorest of the five new Central Asian republics. Its people have been silenced by communism, civil war, hard-line Islam and natural disasters. Persecution is all too common for its few Christians, and traditional missionary activity is restricted.
And yet, the future is hardly bleak. The gospel is stirring in Tajikistan - as Avant's Scott Harris journals about on his recent trip with Mark Bruner. Their mission: to survey the land for a future "Short-Cycle Church Planting" team.
Short-Cycle is Avant's team-based strategy for rapidly starting church-planting movements in unreached and sensitive areas. If history is any guide, the door for the gospel here may close quickly. Short-Cycle was designed for such a place, for such a time ...
Weekend - Lunch with the KGB
Built by the Soviets a century ago, Dushanbe sits in a horseshoe-shaped valley at the nexus of two rivers. No matter where we look from the city streets, the view is dominated by gray sky and panoramic peaks topping 20,000 feet.
9:00 AM: On Saturday, we hop a bus downtown to the ZUM shopping center, searching out household goods that might support a Short-Cycle team. For 10 dirhams (three pennies) you can ride anywhere in the city. We wander the rows of kiosks and small shops brimming with handmade skull caps, robes and mandolin-like ouds.
NOON: Over a lunch of kebabs and tea, we talk with a Tajik pastor named "Paul" who has planted a local church. We're encouraged by the spiritual hunger of Tajiks. About 50 thriving house churches have popped up in Dushanbe in the past decade - a key indicator that Short-Cycle may work. Yet the gospel has barely ventured beyond the city limits, where rural villagers are even more xenophobic than suspicious city dwellers.
10:00 AM Sunday: Mark and Joe visit one of the few "registered" Tajik churches, where a dynamic Tajik pastor proclaims "a new day in Tajikistan, and a new generation of anointed believers who will change the country!" The service, translated into Tajik, Russian and English, ends with three people accepting Christ.
12:30 PM: Walking up to me at a sidewalk café, Joe and Mark's faces radiate excitement. When we're seated at an isolated table, they begin relating the boldness and vision they'd witnessed that morning. Just as the story is heating up, we have unexpected company: Two men in black leather and sunglasses, who'd followed Joe and Mark from the church. In an empty café, they sit right next to us. Did we suddenly fall into a Cold War movie? So this is how the KGB keeps track of foreigners. Our discussion abruptly shifts to mundane topics ... but inside, hope soars for Short-Cycle.
Monday - A fortunate dilemma
An electric-bus ride brings us to the office of a second NGO.
9:30 AM: Dwarfed by a huge conference table in a cavernous room, the four of us seem insignificant. Sensing our discomfort, our host explains that this room has been swept clean of Soviet-era listening devices. Soon, the conversation is charged with hope and anticipation as we trade notes on the NGO's work and our Short-Cycle strategy. A wide-ranging discussion reveals plenty of common ground - passion for the lost, compatible ministry philosophies and a joint sense of urgency. Clearly, we are kindred spirits.
10:00 PM: Bleary-eyed, we debrief. We're facing a dilemma of two potential ministry partnerships. Comparing our notes, it's clear that we'd all choose one with our heads, and the other with our hearts. Which NGO prospect gives our team the greatest advantage? Better sleep on it, which comes easier in our now-familiar surroundings.
Asia Undercover
Two missions specialists prime the field for church planting
By Scott Harris with Mark Bruner, Avant Ministries
Special to Called and Sent
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Photo courtesy of Avant Ministries
BIG BROTHER: A Russian Orthodox church overlooks a city street. Religious freedom is dicey in Central Asia, where the culture is steeped in Soviet-era secrecy and Islamic Tradition. |
Tajikistan is the poorest of the five new Central Asian republics. Its people have been silenced by communism, civil war, hard-line Islam and natural disasters. Persecution is all too common for its few Christians, and traditional missionary activity is restricted.
And yet, the future is hardly bleak. The gospel is stirring in Tajikistan - as Avant's Scott Harris journals about on his recent trip with Mark Bruner. Their mission: to survey the land for a future "Short-Cycle Church Planting" team.
Short-Cycle is Avant's team-based strategy for rapidly starting church-planting movements in unreached and sensitive areas. If history is any guide, the door for the gospel here may close quickly. Short-Cycle was designed for such a place, for such a time ...
Thursday, March 9 - Adrenaline rush
We're on the last leg of a marathon 30-hour flight that started four days and 15,000 miles ago in Kansas City. Our anticipation mounts as we zigzag our way across several of the highest and most desolate mountain ranges in the world. Just getting to this point is a miracle. Illness, an earthquake and scheduling mishaps with crucial Tajik contacts have canceled this trip twice in the past three years - stranding endless hours of research.
3:45 PM: The tiny plane window frames the capital city of Dushanbe, lying at the foot of the Hisor peaks. We begin our descent ... into the unknown. After so much waiting and planning, what will we find? What surprises does God have in store for us? How will our "Short-Cycle" model fit into this barren frontier of the "10/40 missions window"?
More than 90 percent of Tajikistan is enshrouded by mountains, with foreboding Soviet-era names like Mount Lenin and Mount Communism. Even more ominous is the shadow of Islam: 90 percent of Central Asia's 10 million Tajik peoples are Muslim. While governments advertise religious freedom, the influence of Islamic mullahs has outlawed missionary visas. The region is less than one-tenth of 1 percent evangelical, with a few fledgling church plants spearheaded by locals and incognito missionaries.
As we make our approach in the ancient Russian Antonov AN-24, I catch my breath. The oxygen squeeze in the unpressurized cabin hasn't helped my jet lag. My adrenaline kicks in, goaded no doubt by a safety card suggesting that a crash is "hardly probable" on this "modern and reliable" aircraft. Uncertainty is always a rush!
Mark and I clear the visa checkpoint with uncanny ease, accompanied by a travel partner. On the last leg, we'd picked up an Avant missionary named "Joe" in a neighboring country. But after an hour of fending off eager airport taxi drivers, we realize our first local contact, a Tajik pastor, isn't coming. Not a good feeling. Joe's Russian skills are handy as a taxi driver speeds his vintage Lada through this sprawling city of 800,000.
5:45 PM: At the end of a dusty, pot-holed street, we locate the non-government organization (NGO) that's hosting us. We unwind on the sunny porch as the office secretary, "Azeeba," pours refreshing cups of sublime green tea. It's a relief to be face-to-face with the email contact who spent months helping us arrange the trip's many details. We meet "John" from Africa, who launches into animated descriptions of his NGO's relief work in the countryside. We're scouting this outfit as a potential ministry partner. John's passion for people is evident, but does he have a church-planting vision?
10:30 PM: After a dinner of zesty lamb shishlak and chapatis (a flat Indian bread), our three-man Avant team retires to the nearby "Great Game" guesthouse. We recap our impressions from a weary first day. These nightly debriefs will become a vital part of our trip.
We're on the last leg of a marathon 30-hour flight that started four days and 15,000 miles ago in Kansas City. Our anticipation mounts as we zigzag our way across several of the highest and most desolate mountain ranges in the world. Just getting to this point is a miracle. Illness, an earthquake and scheduling mishaps with crucial Tajik contacts have canceled this trip twice in the past three years - stranding endless hours of research.
3:45 PM: The tiny plane window frames the capital city of Dushanbe, lying at the foot of the Hisor peaks. We begin our descent ... into the unknown. After so much waiting and planning, what will we find? What surprises does God have in store for us? How will our "Short-Cycle" model fit into this barren frontier of the "10/40 missions window"?
More than 90 percent of Tajikistan is enshrouded by mountains, with foreboding Soviet-era names like Mount Lenin and Mount Communism. Even more ominous is the shadow of Islam: 90 percent of Central Asia's 10 million Tajik peoples are Muslim. While governments advertise religious freedom, the influence of Islamic mullahs has outlawed missionary visas. The region is less than one-tenth of 1 percent evangelical, with a few fledgling church plants spearheaded by locals and incognito missionaries.
As we make our approach in the ancient Russian Antonov AN-24, I catch my breath. The oxygen squeeze in the unpressurized cabin hasn't helped my jet lag. My adrenaline kicks in, goaded no doubt by a safety card suggesting that a crash is "hardly probable" on this "modern and reliable" aircraft. Uncertainty is always a rush!
Mark and I clear the visa checkpoint with uncanny ease, accompanied by a travel partner. On the last leg, we'd picked up an Avant missionary named "Joe" in a neighboring country. But after an hour of fending off eager airport taxi drivers, we realize our first local contact, a Tajik pastor, isn't coming. Not a good feeling. Joe's Russian skills are handy as a taxi driver speeds his vintage Lada through this sprawling city of 800,000.
5:45 PM: At the end of a dusty, pot-holed street, we locate the non-government organization (NGO) that's hosting us. We unwind on the sunny porch as the office secretary, "Azeeba," pours refreshing cups of sublime green tea. It's a relief to be face-to-face with the email contact who spent months helping us arrange the trip's many details. We meet "John" from Africa, who launches into animated descriptions of his NGO's relief work in the countryside. We're scouting this outfit as a potential ministry partner. John's passion for people is evident, but does he have a church-planting vision?
10:30 PM: After a dinner of zesty lamb shishlak and chapatis (a flat Indian bread), our three-man Avant team retires to the nearby "Great Game" guesthouse. We recap our impressions from a weary first day. These nightly debriefs will become a vital part of our trip.
Friday - "It cannot be done."
4:00 AM: My eyes snap open in the dark chill of the guesthouse. Beneath the bedcovers, my first coherent thought is, Lord, how will we reach these people? Related prayers thread my mind for two hours. Might as well shower before Mark and Joe wake up.
Fueled by tasty omelets from our Uzbek cook, we head off to find the number 16 mashtruka mini-bus for a ride back to the NGO office. I'd expected to see bearded, Taliban-like men and very few women in public. We're instead surrounded by a diverse mix of Tajiks, in mostly Western dress, on their morning commutes and market trips.
9:00 AM: At NGO headquarters, we greet John and his co-worker, "Charles." Just days ago, a Christian relief worker was deported by authorities for allegedly "proselytizing," so it's too risky to reveal names of missions-minded people and organizations.
But behind closed doors, they freely spend the entire morning outlining the challenges inherent in Tajik culture and missions. There seems to be enough religious freedom to tip-toe into church planting, but other issues emerge. This NGO is so busy reacting to natural disasters - a missionary's "legitimate" doorway into Tajikistan - that there's little time for focused ministry. Can a more proactive Short-Cycle team work from behind this NGO façade, or will Avant need to find a more directed approach? It looks dicey at this point. Moreover, there seem to be few options for educating the missionary kids, which could hinder efforts to recruit a team.
1:30 PM: After a lunch of hearty Tajik stew, we're introduced to "Bill," the NGO's director. He explains the timid state of the marginalized Central Asian church. People's attitudes about faith, and life in general, seem as harsh as a Tajik winter.
A mantra-like phrase keeps bouncing off the damp and sterile stone walls of Bill's office: "It cannot be done." Seventy years of communist oppression, followed by a civil war that ended in 1997, has muffled the life spark of Tajiks and bred a defeatist national identity. Tajiks today want peace - not a "new religious agenda." They have an innate fear of straying from both local norms and Islamic heritage. It's a daunting reality for a church-planter.
I catch a knowing glance from Mark. Our minds are racing: How can we adequately train and sensitize a Short-Cycle team for such a socio-spiritual environment? The more we talk, the more tentative Bill seems.
10:30 PM: Back at the guesthouse, we rehash the day. Joe says it first: "Even though we thought this NGO was the best potential partner, I don't think we can work with them." We head off to bed - tired, deflated, and wondering what awaits us tomorrow.
4:00 AM: My eyes snap open in the dark chill of the guesthouse. Beneath the bedcovers, my first coherent thought is, Lord, how will we reach these people? Related prayers thread my mind for two hours. Might as well shower before Mark and Joe wake up.
Fueled by tasty omelets from our Uzbek cook, we head off to find the number 16 mashtruka mini-bus for a ride back to the NGO office. I'd expected to see bearded, Taliban-like men and very few women in public. We're instead surrounded by a diverse mix of Tajiks, in mostly Western dress, on their morning commutes and market trips.
9:00 AM: At NGO headquarters, we greet John and his co-worker, "Charles." Just days ago, a Christian relief worker was deported by authorities for allegedly "proselytizing," so it's too risky to reveal names of missions-minded people and organizations.
But behind closed doors, they freely spend the entire morning outlining the challenges inherent in Tajik culture and missions. There seems to be enough religious freedom to tip-toe into church planting, but other issues emerge. This NGO is so busy reacting to natural disasters - a missionary's "legitimate" doorway into Tajikistan - that there's little time for focused ministry. Can a more proactive Short-Cycle team work from behind this NGO façade, or will Avant need to find a more directed approach? It looks dicey at this point. Moreover, there seem to be few options for educating the missionary kids, which could hinder efforts to recruit a team.
1:30 PM: After a lunch of hearty Tajik stew, we're introduced to "Bill," the NGO's director. He explains the timid state of the marginalized Central Asian church. People's attitudes about faith, and life in general, seem as harsh as a Tajik winter.
A mantra-like phrase keeps bouncing off the damp and sterile stone walls of Bill's office: "It cannot be done." Seventy years of communist oppression, followed by a civil war that ended in 1997, has muffled the life spark of Tajiks and bred a defeatist national identity. Tajiks today want peace - not a "new religious agenda." They have an innate fear of straying from both local norms and Islamic heritage. It's a daunting reality for a church-planter.
I catch a knowing glance from Mark. Our minds are racing: How can we adequately train and sensitize a Short-Cycle team for such a socio-spiritual environment? The more we talk, the more tentative Bill seems.
10:30 PM: Back at the guesthouse, we rehash the day. Joe says it first: "Even though we thought this NGO was the best potential partner, I don't think we can work with them." We head off to bed - tired, deflated, and wondering what awaits us tomorrow.
Weekend - Lunch with the KGB
Built by the Soviets a century ago, Dushanbe sits in a horseshoe-shaped valley at the nexus of two rivers. No matter where we look from the city streets, the view is dominated by gray sky and panoramic peaks topping 20,000 feet.
9:00 AM: On Saturday, we hop a bus downtown to the ZUM shopping center, searching out household goods that might support a Short-Cycle team. For 10 dirhams (three pennies) you can ride anywhere in the city. We wander the rows of kiosks and small shops brimming with handmade skull caps, robes and mandolin-like ouds.
NOON: Over a lunch of kebabs and tea, we talk with a Tajik pastor named "Paul" who has planted a local church. We're encouraged by the spiritual hunger of Tajiks. About 50 thriving house churches have popped up in Dushanbe in the past decade - a key indicator that Short-Cycle may work. Yet the gospel has barely ventured beyond the city limits, where rural villagers are even more xenophobic than suspicious city dwellers.
10:00 AM Sunday: Mark and Joe visit one of the few "registered" Tajik churches, where a dynamic Tajik pastor proclaims "a new day in Tajikistan, and a new generation of anointed believers who will change the country!" The service, translated into Tajik, Russian and English, ends with three people accepting Christ.
12:30 PM: Walking up to me at a sidewalk café, Joe and Mark's faces radiate excitement. When we're seated at an isolated table, they begin relating the boldness and vision they'd witnessed that morning. Just as the story is heating up, we have unexpected company: Two men in black leather and sunglasses, who'd followed Joe and Mark from the church. In an empty café, they sit right next to us. Did we suddenly fall into a Cold War movie? So this is how the KGB keeps track of foreigners. Our discussion abruptly shifts to mundane topics ... but inside, hope soars for Short-Cycle.
God is doing amazing things here!
Monday - A fortunate dilemma
An electric-bus ride brings us to the office of a second NGO.
9:30 AM: Dwarfed by a huge conference table in a cavernous room, the four of us seem insignificant. Sensing our discomfort, our host explains that this room has been swept clean of Soviet-era listening devices. Soon, the conversation is charged with hope and anticipation as we trade notes on the NGO's work and our Short-Cycle strategy. A wide-ranging discussion reveals plenty of common ground - passion for the lost, compatible ministry philosophies and a joint sense of urgency. Clearly, we are kindred spirits.
10:00 PM: Bleary-eyed, we debrief. We're facing a dilemma of two potential ministry partnerships. Comparing our notes, it's clear that we'd all choose one with our heads, and the other with our hearts. Which NGO prospect gives our team the greatest advantage? Better sleep on it, which comes easier in our now-familiar surroundings.
Tuesday - Whatever it takes
While Mark and Joe head downtown, I stay at the guesthouse to reflect and document.
10:45 AM: It's been a morning of conflicting thoughts: While this globe-trotting racks up the frequent flier miles, my heart aches to spend more time with my grandsons back home. Still, while gazing at the snow-capped mountains, I cannot ignore the siren song of the gospel that invades this place. Do I really believe what I say - that the God who's able to do "exceeding abundantly" beyond all I imagine will build the Church here? Matthew 16 catches my eye: "I will build My Church and the gates of hades shall not overpower it."
12:30 PM: The sun breaks out, and a two-mile walk helps to clear my head. The neighborhood's narrow dirt streets give way to a bustling city center, where I meet Mark, Joe and another Tajik pastor at a café. Our lively lunch chatter echoes the sentiment of my morning prayer time - we must get teams in here. Whatever it takes!
The pastor tells of the growing openness for ministry. But he tempers his optimism with news of a Parliament debate that's unfolding as we speak - about a proposed law to restrict religious freedom and foreign missions activity. A sense of urgency is palpable. Short-Cycle was made for this - to quickly develop the Church in narrow windows of opportunity.
3:00 PM: Our afternoon is a flurry of meetings punctuated by sidewalk dreaming and conferring. It's our last day in Dushanbe. Time has blown by. We convince Joe that his blistered feet can survive one more hike, and trudge off to Charles' house to sit in on his NGO's weekly team meeting. As we present Avant's church-planting and evaluation tools, it's gratifying to see how our Short-Cycle strategy resonates with the group. During a powerful time of prayer for each other, the Holy Spirit seems to be bonding hearts ...
Wednesday - Exclamation point
After exiting Tajikistan, we meet a Tajik missionary at a café in a neighboring country. We listen with rapt attention to his story: He was recently expelled for his ministry activity, but not before he planted a church using Short-Cycle principles - and he left it mature and thriving in less than five years. Yes! Short-Cycle will work here!
Friday, March 17 - Homeward bound
We are tired - and totally wired. Flying home over the Caspian Sea, we vigorously recount what God has shown us. The sights and sounds of Dushanbe are unforgettable, and a church-planting movement is no longer a distant dream. Mark recites the rallying cry of that Sunday sermon: "People say we are poor and Muslim and cannot change. Say good-bye to the old life! God is raising you up! We have to release the power of the gospel on this land - to heal the sick, drive out demons, and bring deliverance to our land. We must be bold and courageous.
While Mark and Joe head downtown, I stay at the guesthouse to reflect and document.
10:45 AM: It's been a morning of conflicting thoughts: While this globe-trotting racks up the frequent flier miles, my heart aches to spend more time with my grandsons back home. Still, while gazing at the snow-capped mountains, I cannot ignore the siren song of the gospel that invades this place. Do I really believe what I say - that the God who's able to do "exceeding abundantly" beyond all I imagine will build the Church here? Matthew 16 catches my eye: "I will build My Church and the gates of hades shall not overpower it."
12:30 PM: The sun breaks out, and a two-mile walk helps to clear my head. The neighborhood's narrow dirt streets give way to a bustling city center, where I meet Mark, Joe and another Tajik pastor at a café. Our lively lunch chatter echoes the sentiment of my morning prayer time - we must get teams in here. Whatever it takes!
The pastor tells of the growing openness for ministry. But he tempers his optimism with news of a Parliament debate that's unfolding as we speak - about a proposed law to restrict religious freedom and foreign missions activity. A sense of urgency is palpable. Short-Cycle was made for this - to quickly develop the Church in narrow windows of opportunity.
3:00 PM: Our afternoon is a flurry of meetings punctuated by sidewalk dreaming and conferring. It's our last day in Dushanbe. Time has blown by. We convince Joe that his blistered feet can survive one more hike, and trudge off to Charles' house to sit in on his NGO's weekly team meeting. As we present Avant's church-planting and evaluation tools, it's gratifying to see how our Short-Cycle strategy resonates with the group. During a powerful time of prayer for each other, the Holy Spirit seems to be bonding hearts ...
Wednesday - Exclamation point
After exiting Tajikistan, we meet a Tajik missionary at a café in a neighboring country. We listen with rapt attention to his story: He was recently expelled for his ministry activity, but not before he planted a church using Short-Cycle principles - and he left it mature and thriving in less than five years. Yes! Short-Cycle will work here!
Friday, March 17 - Homeward bound
We are tired - and totally wired. Flying home over the Caspian Sea, we vigorously recount what God has shown us. The sights and sounds of Dushanbe are unforgettable, and a church-planting movement is no longer a distant dream. Mark recites the rallying cry of that Sunday sermon: "People say we are poor and Muslim and cannot change. Say good-bye to the old life! God is raising you up! We have to release the power of the gospel on this land - to heal the sick, drive out demons, and bring deliverance to our land. We must be bold and courageous.
Stand for truth!"