Speaking and Preaching Challenges

 As we started our mission career, there were no computers, projectors, digital whiteboards, cell phones, etc. In fact, most of the villages we visited had no electricity so even if these things had existed, they would have been of limited or no value. Many locations had only very rough and often seasonal roads and some villages could only be reached by walking. Likewise, even landline phones weren’t available so communications were difficult. So when considering trainings and programs the location and what it had or lacked had to be taken into account.

Teaching about mixing cement at a Karen
village with the ubiquitous homemade
chalk board 

Whatever the program or event, the host village would usually make available the resources they had. Some roofed facility would be provided. It could be a temporary thatched roof with some rough benches, maybe it was underneath the village church (many churches were built on “stilts”) or maybe it was in the sanctuary itself. Homemade chalk boards were often made of wood boards painted green and elevated on a homemade tripod. And, we as resource people would bring our own materials to use depending on the subject. Teaching would take place during the day, and at night, people would usually gather in the home of the village headman or church leader where there would be an evening worship/prayer service followed by a general discussion of any and everything.

For whatever reason, it seems many missionaries, including me, were taller than average. Compared to the Thai and Karen out in the villages, we were especially tall. In the homes and even churches, most of the facilities and furnishings were homemade by the villagers themselves. This meant they made everything comfortable for people their own size. As someone tall even by American standards, furniture seemed pretty small, ceilings (if any) low) and doorways meant bending low to get through.

Being taller than average also meant being heavier than average. This meant as missionaries, we would be the only ones that would try to climb up a step into a house only to have the step break and we’d fall through. We’d be the only ones banging our head on a roof rafter, the only one whose feet would stick out from under a blanket and feed the mosquitoes, the only one that would collapse the chair in front of the church and the only one that would obviously be uncomfortable perched on a too narrow bench, pew or seat.

Congregation at Lay Kho village waiting to enter their new
 church building for the first time
 (Not the village mentioned in the story)

On one of our early mission trips, I was honored to be asked to deliver the main sermon at the opening
of a new church building. As I recall, the villagers had not been Christian long and this was their first church building. It was all homemade of wood, bamboo and thatch. It was a simple structure, but certainly something to be proud of and a big step in their new faith so I wanted to do a sermon worthy of the occasion.

I had worked pretty hard on the sermon, though what made the occasion most memorable for me was the awkward beginning. I was perched on a too small bench on the platform in the front of the church behind the pulpit. The service was progressing nicely and finally, I was introduced and ready to begin my sermon. I strode up (it only took one step) to the pulpit but immediately recognized I was going to have a problem. A log serving as a roof support beam was situated just above the pulpit. It had been comfortably over the head of all previous speakers and as I waited to speak, it never occurred to me that it would be a problem. But, at my height, the log was right at eye level and just a few inches from my face. I could slide the pulpit back a bit and see my notes but if I looked up, I’d be cross-eyed and see nothing but log. No eye contact with anyone. From the congregation’s view, they would have seen my chin, but nothing but a log from the bottom of my nose to the top of my forehead. There was no room to push the pulpit forward or just remove it, because the platform was not very large. Getting in front of the log was not an option.  I could duck my head and jut forward a bit to get under the beam but then, I’d be looking straight down at the ground and still couldn’t see anyone. The only way to see any of the people would be to duck, jut forward, then turn my head sideways. I spent the sermon alternating standing behind the beam, ducking, jutting and turning sideways and wondering why no one covered this situation in our mission training.

A specially invited visiting pastor leading the way into
a new church building in Phue Rue Khee Village. It was a big event
in the Karen Christian community (but not the particular
church building mentioned in the story) 

A cultural challenge was that it was always assumed that any pastor, church leader, visitor and especially missionaries always had something to share. There was no such thing as sitting in on a service to just watch and listen. We always had to be ready to speak because if we were there, ready or not, we were going to be invited to the come to the front and speak and it was impossible to refuse. If it was a Sunday service, it was likely we’d be asked to do a sermon even if someone else had just finished giving their own sermon. After all, if a one hour service was good, a two hour service was even better!

The first few times we were asked to speak when we thought we were just spectators, it was a shock and we lived in dread of an unexpected and spontaneous speaking request. But we soon had to accept the idea we would be expected to speak where ever we went whether we were on the program or not.  We adapted by never leaving home without being equipped with a greeting in mind, some news to share and a sermon or two ready to go.