Saturday, April 30, 2016

Movement 1: Medical Missions as an Act of Selfishness

 [Note: I was "lovingly" told that some of my posts were too long and I need to include a summary at the top.  So here you go.  Tldr: I'm serving sick children in Africa! I'm also a prideful jerk! Who can save me from my pride? Jesus! What does my tendency to pride mean for medical missions?!?....O_o]

            I’m currently in Botswana, Africa.  I will be working in a children’s cancer ward that my hospital in the United States has an international partnership with.  I’m incredibly excited because international Pediatric Hematology/Oncology is the trajectory of my professional career and I feel that this is the first step.  I am struck by the fact that 80% of children in rich countries are cured of their cancers; however, 80% of the pediatric cancers occur in low- and middle-income countries, where survival rates are often less than 25%.  Children die every day of preventable reasons and I would like to be part of fixing that disparity. 
            As excited as I am, I have a thought that has been weighing heavily on me lately.  I’m bothered by the reason why I want to do this.  Saving a child’s life from cancer is clearly good work to do, but what is my motivation for doing it?  Now I think motivations can be mixed and there can be many contributing reasons for a given action, but as I navigate the answer to this particular question, one motive stands out above the rest: I am selfish.  If I’m being honest I have to say that it is really important to me that it makes me feel good and, more importantly, look good to go serve cancer kids in Africa.  “Look at what I’ve given up! See how altruistic I am!” are unfortunately common thoughts that energize my actions. 
            Before we proceed I should offer a disclaimer.  Self-glorification is not the only reason that I want to help people.  I am genuinely animated by a desire to serve the Lord with my life, by an altruistic impulse to help people, and by a deep longing for justice.  I would even venture to say that these motivations are much stronger than my selfishness.  However, I’m wondering if this selfish motivation is like the proverbial poop in the brownie mix, a little bit ruins the whole batch.  It is this tendency to corruption of something good that I will explore. 
            So now that I’ve established I am, among other things, kind of a self-interested tool, I need to answer a few more questions for myself:  Is this selfishness a problem? What does it say about me? What does it mean for my work in medical missions? 

Is my selfishness a problem?
As I’ve already pointed out, saving kids from cancer is inherently a good thing.  I think very few people would argue against that.  So if the outcome is good, does the motivation matter? Since I’m betting there are other selfish people like me in the world, maybe doing good deeds should be made as self-glorifying as possible so as to maximize good deed doing.  One can argue the point, to which I would reply that it is an undeniable fact that our society values right motives.  If Batman fights crime because he enjoys violence, we wouldn’t find him much of a superhero.  If a politician expands access to healthcare because he is invested in the insurance company, we would cry fraud.  If an activist raises funds by lying about the impact of his charity, even if much of the money returns to the charity, we call him a disgrace.  These examples show that society values motivations in judging the goodness of an action even when the outcomes are good.
Beyond a societal definition of what is good, I value motivations because I am a Christian.  As a Christian, what I find to be good and right is defined by the very nature of God himself and his subsequent description of how we should follow his example.  In one of the most famous verses in the Bible, we have a strong description of God’s motivation in acting in the world in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son.” Love motivated God to give his son, Jesus.  If God’s reason for giving his son was for 10% of our income or to create an army of evangelical Republicans, we would feel very differently about this God.  In God’s love, however, I have an example of right motivation.  Philippians 2:5-6 goes on to say, “…have the mindset of Christ Jesus, who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” Christians are called to have the mindset of Christ, who was motivated to serve through love.  So motivations matter to God and, therefore, ought to matter to me.

What does my selfishness say about me?
           
            Now that we’ve established a reason to value right motives, let’s explore what my selfishness says about me. To do this, I’ll walk through what happens when I perform a “selfless” act of service.  To illustrate selfless service in the Bible, Jesus washed his disciples feet after his last Passover meal and right before his arrest and subsequent execution.  Christians find this imagery, that the God of the universe would bend a knee to wash the dirtiest part of his peoples’ bodies, to be a beautiful expression of what it means to follow Christ.  Some groups of Christians will do this ritual as an act of worship to God from time to time.  While it makes for a pretty description, let’s see what it actually looks like when its my turn to wash someone’s feet:

            Alright, its time to whack these guys upside the head with Love. We’ll see what God wants to do through me being a stud.  
'Hey everyone, God says we are supposed to love and serve one another as Jesus loved and served us. To illustrate that point I’m going to wash all of your…’ (sick-nasty) ‘…feet.’ 
 Good speech, that really set a pensive tone.   I wish there was some epic music playing in the background, like I’m the main character of a movie – mental note for next time. Who first? Jeff just said something dumb and Nate is still snickering at him.  I’ll wash Jeff first to both give him a little love fist-bump and to heap some proverbial burning coals Nate’s way. Bwaha. Ok, somberly grab the water and then take off his sho- Oh shi….rrrroudofTURIN! That smell! Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react.  Hey I kind of hope the others smell that.  Ok slowly wash. Bleghh, is that a bunion? Hmm maybe nonchalantly angle the foot out so the others can see it better.  Perfect.  Look how much I am suffering! I wish I could capture this moment in Sepia tone. Embed a photographer - another mental note for next time.  What a good illustration of God’s love – high five, me! 

Although there is a heavy dose of facetiousness in the story, note the obsession with image and appearance.  Even while doing something selfless, there is a meta-narrative unfolding in my mind that is reframing the experience to be about me.  This reframing will direct my subsequent actions.  It is this corrupting feedback loop that turns an action into an exercise in pride.  The action may start well-intentioned and emanate from a genuine desire to benefit others, but as the corrupting thoughts occur, it slowly pulls the direction of my focus from others to myself.
The corrupting thought doesn’t necessarily have to be appearance.  It could be a motivation for a good feeling.   A common response to the question, “Why do you do the work you do?” is the answer, “It’s just so rewarding.”  A variety of interpretations are possible in that statement, but if I said it, I would probably mean that it makes me feel good to help people.   A degree of nuance is needed here to admit that the good feeling from helping others is itself not a bad thing (the same can be said for looking awesome while serving).  But it becomes a bad thing (i.e. a selfish thing) if that is my main motive for serving.  These corrupting thoughts can take many forms, from desire for material gain, to sex, to power, but they all have the final common pathway of self-serving motives.  In other words, pride.  
So here is what I’ve noticed about myself.  When I try to do something good, no matter how genuine, how well intentioned, there is a significant temptation to make it about myself instead of the object of my service.  I have a continual tendency to pride and self-exaltation, which are both grave sins in the Christian vernacular. Am I alone in this struggle? Thankfully no.  The Apostle Paul had something to say about the continual struggle with sin in Romans 7:21-25:

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me.  For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at with work in me.  What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

That’s me, a wretched man. I want to do good but I know that sinful pride is right beside me, or more accurately inside me.  It’s comforting to know that Paul struggled with similar feelings.    And truly, I think he’s describing a more universal struggle.  It is a basic fact of the human condition that no matter what we do, no matter how impressive our accomplishments, no matter how dirty we get serving the poor, no matter how much personal sacrifice, the corrupting influence of sin remains. For me, as I’ve already confessed, that corrupting influence is pride.  I am the most important thing in my life.  How do I escape a situation where the very problem is that I exist?
            Thankfully, God has provided an answer through Jesus.  I’ve found I cannot change how important I find myself to be.  But Christ provides a definitive, external answer to my internal cycle of corrupting self-love.  As the omnipotent, transcendental Creator, he posses an existence much greater than my own and, therefore, is a much greater object of worship than I am.  Through his sacrificial death on the cross, he provides a way to change my basic motivations by connecting me to God and teaching me what selfless love truly is.  Christ can redeem both the object of my desire and my motivations for obtaining it, from self-focused to Christ-centered.
            Though Christ offers such a beautiful redemption, I still struggle with sin.  I’m not perfect, nor will I ever be while I’m here on earth.  The Christian life is a process of learning to reflect Christ’s love more clearly.  Like a mirror, I cannot project my own light but rather I’m learning to more clearly project Christ’s.  So I will continue to serve.  Sometimes I will make it about myself.  Other times, and hopefully more and more frequently, I will genuinely say that I am serving with the mindset of Christ. 

What does this mean for International Medical Missions?

This framework is my foundation for a Christ-exalting, thoughtful and (hopefully) intelligent approach to international medical missions.  I must start with understanding my own state in the world, both wretched and hopeful, before I can focus outwardly on serving others.  In future posts, I hope to more explicitly connect these dots.  Stay tuned.