Signup for Email Updates
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Missionary Videos
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Is it fair?
IS IT REALLY FAIR?
‘Is it fair that some people should have heard the Gospel twice when others have never even heard it once?’
When Paul Briggs read these words in a book of missionary challenge* they struck a chord in his heart. He and his wife Marina had become increasingly convinced over a period of two years that they ought to be giving their lives to serving the Lord in a full-time capacity. This pointed question added a new impetus to their thinking.
‘Wouldn’t it be a tremendous thrill and privilege to explain the Gospel to people who had never heard it before?’ they reasoned.
Paul and Marina were members of Bethany Free Presbyterian Church in Portadown where one of the elders had been supporting the ministry of the New Tribes Mission for many years. On observing the young couple’s patent interest in evangelism and hearing them express an interest in missionary outreach, he was quite happy to give Paul a pile of back-numbers of the Mission magazine ‘Brown Gold’ to look through.
When he and Marina had read these, and heard from others that New Tribes Mission had a Bible School in Matlock, England, they decided after much prayer and spiritual consideration to apply to study there. They were accepted and began a four year course, commencing in 1981. As part of their missionary training they spent some time at a ‘Boot Camp’ near Pittsburgh, USA, and it was there in 1983 they felt led of God to volunteer for service in Ivory Coast, West Africa.
In fulfilment of this call they arrived, with their three young children, Peter who was six, Laura who was almost four and six-month old Kyle in Yamoussoukro, Ivory Coast in 1986.
They had to spend a year in the capital, studying French and acclimatising to the local culture with two other families, before moving north into a village to join some missionaries working among the hitherto unreached Loron tribe.
Living in an African village, where the standard of hygiene wasn’t quite what they had been used to in Portadown, presented the new missionaries, and mum Marina in particular, with specific challenges. Their fourth child, Leanne, had been born while they were in Yamoussoukro and was now about seven months old. Marina found it hard when the African women reached out to hold and carry her baby. Marina realised she had to let it happen and handed her precious little one over into outstretched caring, but not always spotlessly clean, hands. She had come to help reach these people with the Gospel of the love of God, so how could she withhold her child from them?
A pressing priority for the newcomers to the village was to learn the Loron tribal language and this was to prove more difficult than learning French in the capital. There were no language schools in the bush and very few of the locals could read or write so Paul and Marina relied on the aid of ‘language helpers.’ Having learnt basic phrases such as ‘What is this?’ and What is he doing?’ in Loron they were able to build up a basic vocabulary by pointing, asking, listening and remembering. It was a tedious process but they were keen students who wanted to become fluent enough to communicate effectively with the villagers as soon as possible and so they learnt quickly.
In October 1987 and just six weeks after they had moved into the village, Paul was to discover very forcibly how important it was that they persist diligently with their language studies. He was trying to make sense of a chart of Loron pronouns when two men appeared at the door of the mud hut which he was using as an office.
Paul recognised one of them. His name was Chavaray and he had helped Paul and Marina settle into village life. He introduced Paul to the newcomer, Hovaray, who had, his friend maintained, an interesting story to tell.
Chavaray understood a little French and Paul understood even less Loron, but between them they were able to make Paul understand what Hovaray had to say.
The Loron man in a Muslim robe had embarked on a quest for spiritual truth and had experienced an unusual dream. Although he had spoken to many people none of them could satisfy him because they could not tell him what his dream meant. Perhaps ‘the whites’ in the village could help.
In his dream Hovaray had seen a book, with writing on the front of it, within a walled enclosure. As Hovaray talked, Paul thought, and still struggling to understand what this intense man was trying to explain, showed him his English Bible.
“No,” Hovaray said. “That’s not the book.”
Paul then had another idea. What about a French Bible? No. That wasn’t it either.
The visitor was convinced this was the right place for the wall outside to keep the village cows and goats out was exactly like what he had seen in his dream, but where was Paul to go from here? Then suddenly it dawned on him. A year or two before, Swiss translators had produced a copy of the Gospel of John in the Loron language, but as few could read, it hadn’t been much used. Reaching up Paul took one of these little booklets from a shelf and handed it to Hovaray.
There was a sudden intake of breath and then an excited cry.
“This is the book!” he exclaimed. “This is it!”
Firmly convinced that he was well on his way to discovering the truth he had been seeking, Hovaray began attending the weekly Bible studies under a large mango tree at the edge of the village. He asked pertinent questions, showed a tremendous interest in what was being taught and within several months of that first encounter with Paul had trusted the Lord Jesus Christ.
Although they had planned initially to stay just one year in the village assisting the other missionaries, Paul and Marina realised that God had a work for them to do there in helping translate the New Testament into the Loron language. They also began systematic teaching of the scriptures beginning with the creation story in Genesis 1 and leading through the Old Testament and on into the New, from which they were able to speak of the love of God and the provision of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.
This proved an effective mode of witness for by 1992 there were three separate groups operating in different villages with a number of the villagers being saved. When the couple were more proficient in Loron, Marina had a dual role to perform. As a mother she home-schooled their four children, and as a missionary she joined another missionary wife going through the Bible study programme with the women in the villages. From that point on, and with a number of believers growing, Paul and Marina taught them the importance of witnessing to their faith. With the motto of ‘each one reach one’ the Gospel was spread and others came to trust the Lord.
With almost all of the people being illiterate the missionary couple then recognised if the new believers were to grow in their spiritual lives they would need to be able to read the scriptures which they were helping to translate. To help address this issue Marina started literacy classes for any who wished to attend and these proved very popular with some of the younger people especially.
Paul and Marina returned to Northern Ireland in 2000 for two years to see the two older children settled in further education before returning to the Ivory Coast, and their home in the village in July 2002. They were only back in the country and had barely time to unpack and resume their normal routine before the country was ravaged by civil war. Paul, Marina and all the other foreign missionaries in the region were advised to leave everything and flee to either the neighbouring country of Burkina Faso or southwards towards the capital.
The road to Burkina Faso was blocked by the rebel forces so their evacuating convoy had no choice but to travel south. God miraculously opened the way for them to pass through all military checkpoints unhindered and unharmed but when they approached Yamoussoukro it was considered too dangerous to enter the city. Marina found this upsetting for Kyle and Leanne were at boarding school there. Her only consolation was to talk to them by phone and learn that they were also being evacuated to join the escaping party. On meeting up they returned to Northern Ireland, much to the relief of Peter and Laura who had been very concerned as they hadn’t heard from their parents for some time.
Instability of government in the northern part of Ivory Coast made it inadvisable for Paul and Marina to return to the country and so they continued working on Bible translation, literacy and Bible teaching materials in Northern Ireland. In 2006 they moved out to live in Burkina Faso and from there, and with the permission of the rebel soldiers, they made numerous cross-border trips into northern Ivory Coast.
Their first return visit to their village over the Easter weekend proved both heart-wrenching and heart-warming all at once. They were sickened to witness the state of their former home which had been looted and used as the local rebel headquarters and then a prison at various stages in the course of the war. Seeing 200 eager believers packed into the small church on Easter Sunday to welcome them back more than compensated their disappointment about the house, which they vowed to restore, little by little on later visits.
As they look back on more than 20 years working with the Loron people of Ivory Coast, Paul and Marina have much for which to praise God. They have seen 9 churches established in which around 400 Loron believers meet to worship. Twelve Bible teachers have been trained to continue the programme of evangelism and church planting in other villages. A radio ministry has been established in Burkina Faso and around 40% of the New Testament has been translated into the tribal language. Marina has worked tirelessly on the adult literacy programme and now 25 literacy teachers have been trained and they hold classes in 11 villages with a total of 200 students enrolled for courses.
This they feel, however, is only the start, merely a tiny ‘tip of the iceberg.’ Paul and Marina plan to return to Burkina Faso and Ivory Coast in 2010. There is so much more they would like to see done in the will, and with the help of God. They aim to complete the translation of the New Testament, develop the literacy programme even further and tell more people who still haven’t heard it yet, the wonderful news of the Gospel.
They will be glad to return to West Africa and continue the work into which they felt led of God more than a quarter of a century ago. Their work is making a difference to one small tribe in one small country, but the challenge that pricked their hearts can still apply to the evangelical Christian church in the present day. Around 20% of the world’s population in more than 2,300 people groups have never heard a clear presentation of the Gospel in their own language.
‘Is it fair that some people should have heard the Gospel twice when others have never even heard it once?’
‘Well, is it?’ they ask.
If the instinctive response to that challenge is ‘No,’ then we need to consider a second question which comes directly from the Heavenly Missionary Questionnaire.
It is, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’
Can any of us answer honestly, ‘Here am I! Send me?’
NOEL DAVIDSON (LifeTimes, 2009)
____________________________
* Oswald J Smith, 'The Cry of the World'
Saturday, 14 November 2009
Seby

Seby (SAY-be) was about fourteen years old when we first met him. It shortly after we went to live in the village of Gogo in the summer of 1987. He was the only Loron boy in the region to have spent more than a couple of years at school. In fact he had finished primary/elementary school and was planning to go return to secondary school at the end of the summer.
As Seby was the only Loron person in the village who could speak French as well as his native language, I asked him if he would help me as I made a start on learning the Loron language. He eagerly agreed and over the next few weeks he was a great help as we worked together on a grammar survey of his language. He was very intelligent and quickly grasped what I was looking for.
At the end of September he left the village and went back to school, sixty five miles away, but every summer he would come home and spend his school break in Gogo helping the missionaries with language study and, as we progressed, with Bible translation and developing Bible lessons and literacy materials. We taught him how to work on a computer. During one of his summer breaks, Seby became a Christian.

When he finished his education, he returned to live in the village with his new wife, Eri, a Loron believer. He built a mud house with a straw roof, just like all the other Loron folks. He planted a field, helped with Bible teaching at the church in Gogo and, when he had time, he worked with me on Bible translation.
In 2000, while we were on furlough in Northern Ireland, he was offered a job as a trainee nurse at a small Baptist clinic in Doropo, about 15 miles from Gogo. At first he was reluctant to take the job because he said that he could not stand the sight of blood, but he gave it a go anyway, and after a while began to really enjoy the work. There was no formal instruction with the job and so, in 2006, he decided that he would trust the Lord to help him take a three-year nurse’s training course at the University Teaching Hospitals in Abidjan in southern Ivory Coast, over 400 miles from where he and his family were living.
During the next three years he faced numerous trials and disappointments, including teacher strikes, sickness in his family and long spells of separation from his wife and children. But he persevered. Together with members of his own family and a Christian couple in Holland, Marina and I assisted Seby to pursue his studies. We were thrilled, in August, to learn that he had passed his final exams and was returning to northern Ivory Coast to resume working at the Baptist hospital, this time with a nursing diploma under his belt!
We heard this week that Seby came first in a class of over five hundred students. As I'm sure you can imagine, we are really chuffed about that!

Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Would You Go Back?
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Edinburgh Marathon, 2009

Saturday, 11 April 2009
Video - The Loron People (3mins)
To download video: click here
(Download button located at bottom right-hand corner - simple 3-step signup)
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
We should have called her Patricia!

Our oldest daughter, Laura, was born just a few hours before Saint Patrick's Day in the beautiful Peak District of Derbyshire in a quiet little hamlet called Two Dales right on edge of the village of Darley Dale. We were studying at the New Tribes Mission Bible school in nearby Matlock Bath at the time. We left the area at the end of 1982 when Laura was only nine months old, and she had never been back to the place where she was born.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God
As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God
Missionaries, not aid money, are the solution to Africa's biggest problem - the crushing passivity of the people's mindset
Matthew Parris
Before Christmas I returned, after 45 years, to the country that as a boy I knew as Nyasaland. Today it's Malawi, and The Times Christmas Appeal includes a small British charity working there. Pump Aid helps rural communities to install a simple pump, letting people keep their village wells sealed and clean. I went to see this work.
It inspired me, renewing my flagging faith in development charities. But travelling in Malawi refreshed another belief, too: one I've been trying to banish all my life, but an observation I've been unable to avoid since my African childhood. It confounds my ideological beliefs, stubbornly refuses to fit my world view, and has embarrassed my growing belief that there is no God.
Now a confirmed atheist, I've become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa: sharply distinct from the work of secular NGOs, government projects and international aid efforts. These alone will not do. Education and training alone will not do. In Africa Christianity changes people's hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good.
I used to avoid this truth by applauding - as you can - the practical work of mission churches in Africa. It's a pity, I would say, that salvation is part of the package, but Christians black and white, working in Africa, do heal the sick, do teach people to read and write; and only the severest kind of secularist could see a mission hospital or school and say the world would be better without it. I would allow that if faith was needed to motivate missionaries to help, then, fine: but what counted was the help, not the faith.
But this doesn't fit the facts. Faith does more than support the missionary; it is also transferred to his flock. This is the effect that matters so immensely, and which I cannot help observing.
First, then, the observation. We had friends who were missionaries, and as a child I stayed often with them; I also stayed, alone with my little brother, in a traditional rural African village. In the city we had working for us Africans who had converted and were strong believers. The Christians were always different. Far from having cowed or confined its converts, their faith appeared to have liberated and relaxed them. There was a liveliness, a curiosity, an engagement with the world - a directness in their dealings with others - that seemed to be missing in traditional African life. They stood tall.
At 24, travelling by land across the continent reinforced this impression. From Algiers to Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon and the Central African Republic, then right through the Congo to Rwanda, Tanzania and Kenya, four student friends and I drove our old Land Rover to Nairobi.
We slept under the stars, so it was important as we reached the more populated and lawless parts of the sub-Sahara that every day we find somewhere safe by nightfall. Often near a mission.
Whenever we entered a territory worked by missionaries, we had to acknowledge that something changed in the faces of the people we passed and spoke to: something in their eyes, the way they approached you direct, man-to-man, without looking down or away. They had not become more deferential towards strangers - in some ways less so - but more open.
This time in Malawi it was the same. I met no missionaries. You do not encounter missionaries in the lobbies of expensive hotels discussing development strategy documents, as you do with the big NGOs. But instead I noticed that a handful of the most impressive African members of the Pump Aid team (largely from Zimbabwe) were, privately, strong Christians. “Privately” because the charity is entirely secular and I never heard any of its team so much as mention religion while working in the villages. But I picked up the Christian references in our conversations. One, I saw, was studying a devotional textbook in the car. One, on Sunday, went off to church at dawn for a two-hour service.
It would suit me to believe that their honesty, diligence and optimism in their work was unconnected with personal faith. Their work was secular, but surely affected by what they were. What they were was, in turn, influenced by a conception of man's place in the Universe that Christianity had taught.
There's long been a fashion among Western academic sociologists for placing tribal value systems within a ring fence, beyond critiques founded in our own culture: “theirs” and therefore best for “them”; authentic and of intrinsically equal worth to ours.
I don't follow this. I observe that tribal belief is no more peaceable than ours; and that it suppresses individuality. People think collectively; first in terms of the community, extended family and tribe. This rural-traditional mindset feeds into the “big man” and gangster politics of the African city: the exaggerated respect for a swaggering leader, and the (literal) inability to understand the whole idea of loyal opposition.
Anxiety - fear of evil spirits, of ancestors, of nature and the wild, of a tribal hierarchy, of quite everyday things - strikes deep into the whole structure of rural African thought. Every man has his place and, call it fear or respect, a great weight grinds down the individual spirit, stunting curiosity. People won't take the initiative, won't take things into their own hands or on their own shoulders.
How can I, as someone with a foot in both camps, explain? When the philosophical tourist moves from one world view to another he finds - at the very moment of passing into the new - that he loses the language to describe the landscape to the old. But let me try an example: the answer given by Sir Edmund Hillary to the question: Why climb the mountain? “Because it's there,” he said.
To the rural African mind, this is an explanation of why one would not climb the mountain. It's... well, there. Just there. Why interfere? Nothing to be done about it, or with it. Hillary's further explanation - that nobody else had climbed it - would stand as a second reason for passivity.
Christianity, post-Reformation and post-Luther, with its teaching of a direct, personal, two-way link between the individual and God, unmediated by the collective, and unsubordinate to any other human being, smashes straight through the philosphical/spiritual framework I've just described. It offers something to hold on to those anxious to cast off a crushing tribal groupthink. That is why and how it liberates.
Those who want Africa to walk tall amid 21st-century global competition must not kid themselves that providing the material means or even the know how that accompanies what we call development will make the change. A whole belief system must first be supplanted.
And I'm afraid it has to be supplanted by another. Removing Christian evangelism from the African equation may leave the continent at the mercy of a malign fusion of Nike, the witch doctor, the mobile phone and the machete.
(From The Times, 27 December 2008)
Friday, 23 May 2008
Global Warming Running out of Steam?

Apparently not… recent direct polling of climate scientists has shown that about 30% are "sceptical" of anthropogenic (man-made) global warming.
Meanwhile, in London, something resembling smog has returned…
For the more technically minded, you will appreciate the simple message this chart from New Zealand demonstrates when it compares reality to computer-generated models of global temperatures.
All in all it would appear that the great global-warming hoax is being exposed.
Question is, what will be the next media-generated scare story?
Death in Grindstone Canyon
Time, Monday, Jul. 20, 1953
The New Tribes Mission is not for the frail of body or the faint of heart. Its members specialize in unfriendly aborigines and dangerous terrain; they come from any denomination of Protestantism, and their aim is to go where other missionaries have not gone before them. Founded in 1942 by Paul W. Fleming, a onetime missionary to Malaya, the New Tribes Mission has already suffered more than its share of dramatic accidents: five of its missionaries were killed by Bolivian savages in 1943; in June 1950, a New Tribes plane crashed in Venezuela killing 15 missionaries and their children, and five months later another New Tribes plane crashed in Wyoming killing 21 missionaries and their families, including Founder Fleming.

Last week, in northern California's Mendocino National Forest, 14 more New Tribesmen died violently.
Grace Before Supper.The temperature had been in the upper 90s for days, and the park rangers kept an anxious eye on the tinder-dry brush. Late one afternoon, they saw the smoke they feared. (As he confessed later, an unemployed 26-year-old who wanted to raise some cash as a fire fighter had got a blaze going.) In a matter of minutes, a crackling patch of flame was eating through the chaparral.
The rangers sent out a call for volunteers. Among the first to be recruited were 27 men from the New Tribes Mission "boot camp" at Fouts Springs, 15 miles to the south. It was frantic, sweaty work, but in a few hours the wind was dropping, and the fire seemed to be sealed off and under control. Then a spark jumped the fire lines and set off a spot blaze in Grindstone Canyon, a short distance away.
Led by a Forest Service man, 23 of the New Tribesmen built a 6-ft. firebreak around the spot fire with their shovels. Then they sat down in the darkness to a late supper—nine on the south side of the burned circle near the canyon wall, 15 on the down-canyon side. They said grace and began to eat. It was about 10 p.m.
"Run! Run!" None of them knew that the wind had sprung up again, or that up the canyon the fire had jumped the control lines. A forest ranger raced along the canyon's edge shouting, "Run! Run! Get out of the canyon!" The group of nine heard his faint voice above them and threw themselves at the canyon wall, scrambling up 200 yards to safety. The others may never have had warning until the flames came rushing and hopping through the head-high chaparral upon them. They ran.
For about three-quarters of a mile, they tore through the brush, and the flames were gaining behind them. Fourteen of them turned then and tried to clamber up the canyon wall. They could not make it, and for those who tried digging foxholes, the shalelike earth would yield only a few inches. One strong man went on running and fighting through the brush down the canyon with the fire at his heels. He had gone a mile and a half when he fell exhausted, 50 yards from the point where the fire eventually died out. He was the 14th of the New Tribesmen to die that night. Back at their training camp, the missionaries and their wives reminded themselves that New Tribesmen are prepared to die. "The Lord spoke for their hearts, and they realized their lives should count for eternity," said John Knutson, business manager of the mission. "Our people are ready to go unto the Lord."