This article was written for my ministry newsletter in July 2003. I thought of it recently, because the same fundamental challenge remains – even after eight years of ministry in Cambodia.
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Immersing oneself in a new culture is not easy. I just returned from a trip to Svay Rieng, a province in the southeast part of Cambodia, near the border with Vietnam. I had the opportunity to go as one of the teachers for a regional youth leader seminar. I am glad that I was able to participate, but I have to admit that the time was a challenging one.
I have been here for over a year. Though by no means a “veteran,” I am feeling more comfortable with the language, and feeling a certain sense of “belonging” here. But culture shock has a funny way of sneaking up on you. Among the nine people running the seminar, I was the only foreigner. While I was able to teach my workshops for the seminar in Khmer, I am still far from able to follow the playful banter around the dinner table. So, instead of the warm camraderie I might have hoped for, I felt somewhat left out. And the fact that some of my friends and colleagues seemed to enjoy teasing me – teasing that I couldn’t fully comprehend! – only made me feel worse.
I struggled with hurt, anger, and frustration. “Don’t they realize how hard it is for me to be here with them?” “Don’t they realize how much I’ve given up to come to Cambodia in the first place?” “Don’t they realize that, even though I haven’t mastered the language, I’m not stupid?” “Can’t they show me a little respect?” Such selfish thinking only fueled the fires burning inside my heart!
Those struggles have led me once again to reflect on an awesome mystery – the mystery of the Incarnation. When Jesus stepped out of the glories of heaven to enter a virgin’s womb and be born in Bethlehem with a feeding trough for His first crib, it was a lot bigger jump than a move from comfortable, affluent America to developing Cambodia. He had to struggle with the mundane realities of life on this planet. He had to sweat as the midday sun beat down on Him. He probably had to eat food that wasn’t as tasty as it could have been. He probably had to scratch a bug bite or two or twenty. (I don’t actually know if they have mosquitoes in Israel!)
But the final chapters of that story were the worst. He had to suffer the betrayal of one of his closest companions. He had to endure the mockery of men who were not worthy to be in His presence. And He had to undergo the injustice of being nailed to a cross and dying as a common criminal. He could have said, “Don’t they realize who I am?” “Don’t they realize how much I’ve given up to come here?” “Can’t they show me a little respect?”
But He didn’t. He endured it all. And He did it for me. I will probably never completely get past “culture shock.” Instead, what I must do is constantly put my trust in the one who endured the “culture shock” of the Incarnation, so that I might enjoy the goodness that He has stored up for me. And by His grace, I desire to keep pressing on to share that goodness – the joy of following the Incarnate One – with others.
