Journal Entry

I’ve been up since early this morning with a mind that cannot stop grinding over the problems and challenges the Church faces in Fiji.  I’m not sure I can even describe just how complicated and difficult it is to make progress with a Church culture that is in its infancy.  Like all infants, there is much to learn and at a young stage, it requires endless patience and repetition with a realization that progress will be very slow.

I’m now going to write things that may seem like we don’t care for the Fijians, are harsh about their faults, and which may seem condescending.  None of that is the case, but we have become realists about how things really are here.  Fijian leaders are good ministers.  They care for people and are interested in helping them as needs arise.  But they culturally and educationally struggle as administrators, teachers, and leaders.  There are so many barriers to success, including (but in no particular order of importance):

1) Little awareness of time.  Fijians largely have little need to be cognizant of time and they generally do not have watches or clocks or calendars.  Their culture has had no real need to value punctuality or planning.  They essentially live from day to day  (with the sun rising and setting as the only real markers), and do not worry about tomorrow.  Agreeing to meet “next week,” is essentially making a meeting for never – next week does not practically exist in their awareness, and even “tomorrow” is in the indefinite future.

2) No money, no cars, no phones, no electronic devices – hard to imagine just how much the "western" church mechanism depends on these things, and the lack of them deter effective leadership as we have come to think of it.  It reduces church membership, leadership, and service to the days of the 1830s when the Church was just beginning.  That may seem “romantic and simple” -- perhaps even something to be longed for, but in reality it significantly limits the reach of the Church and its services to individuals.

3) Little sense of responsibility.  Fijians readily accept callings in the Church but seem to feel little compulsion to magnify them, and for the most part the idea of "magnifying a calling" is foreign.  It is their culture to feel great pride in receiving a “position” but not a companion sense of obligation to act that accompanies that pride.  A common saying is: “I got my calling!” – as though the reception of a calling exalted them above others and validated their importance in the church community.  A leader or teacher may or may not show up on Sunday to do their calling and they will not (and often cannot) tell anyone ahead of time that they will not be there (and that may go on for weeks or months at a time – just plain not showing up).  When they return, no mention of their absence will be made, nor apologies given – it just not their way.  They simply come if they feel like it and stay home if they don’t, or they often just don’t remember.  This includes the branch presidency and all other leaders and teachers.
     Here are some questions a "western-minded" person might unwittingly ask in assessing the maturity of the Church in Fiji, along with answers that typify our experience:

“How often do leaders or teachers just not show up?

            Every week with some people, and most weeks with others.

“Will there be someone at church today to conduct the meetings or teach classes?”

            Maybe, maybe not.

“Will there be a branch presidency meeting this week?”

            Probably not.

“If there is one scheduled, will all members generally attend?” 

            Probably not.

“If they are not going to attend, will they let anyone else know ahead of time?”

            No.

“Will anything be said about their absence when the leader/s do come?”

            No.

4) Fijians seem to have little sense of the need to prepare ahead of time for anything, including a Church responsibility:

“Will Sunday talk assignments be given ahead of time?”

            Rarely.

“When assigned, will a talk be thought out, prayed over, written or prepared?”  

            Probably not.

“Will there be any thought to prepare for a meeting ahead of time?”

            Probably not.

“Will a teacher prepare a lesson ahead of time?”

            Probably not.

“If someone has accepted an assignment to do something, will they do it?”

            Rarely.

5) Fijians do not want to stand out, and do not want to be embarrassed (perhaps this is true of everyone, but it’s acute in the Fijian culture).  If either of these things are likely to occur, they will probably not put themselves in the position to experience them.  So if they are called to teach, or talk, or administer, and they fear they will not do it well, then it is as likely as not that they just will not show up.  When asking a leader, “Did you ask someone ahead of time to prepare a sacrament meeting talk?” They may answer, “Oh no, if we ask them ahead of time they won’t come.”  That also holds true of asking members to teach a class or do other leadership functions.  So they just don’t show up “that time,” or they may more permanently go inactive so they won’t be embarrassed at the perceived likelihood that they will not do a good job in public.

6) There is little sense that holding administrative meetings has potential to enhance the quality of service and thus, little value is attached to holding those meetings.  There are often presidencies of organizations called, but they rarely meet together (including Branch Presidencies/Bishoprics).  They function largely in name only but not in actuality and it is foreign to “counsel” together ~ it just seems counter culture (or, absent in their culture).  Fijians seem to see little purpose in meetings that just take time and effort.  Thus, they are unable to have a “vision” of the power and potential of meetings and counseling together.  As a result, administratively anyway – “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18).  In their culture, all this is understandable, but accomplishing some of the central purposes of the Church seem so limited in possibility because of these things that work in Fijian culture but not in traditional LDS culture.  Just saying that is embarrassing, maybe we should not try to find ourselves "mirrored" by these sweet people, maybe that is impossible.  But if there are no meetings, no preparation, no interviews, no counseling together ~ how can the church grow and be strengthened?

7) Fijians seem to love and value flowery speeches, motivating statements, pomp and ceremony, and position titles -- but here is little substance behind these that leads to action.  If you ask them what their position is, they will proudly announce it.  If you ask them what they do in that position, they will likely give a blank stare and be unable to come up with an answer reflective of appropriate and attendant action.  This probably begins with meaningless issuing of callings that do not help a person learn their duty, nor to understand how to succeed – and that flows from the leader issuing the calling who has no idea what is involved in magnifying callings, or the purpose and function of the organization that calling fits under.  They are great talkers, they just don’t do much (especially the men).

8) Fijians have little money and therefore find it difficult to manage money.  They may also feel little compulsion about stealing or misusing money from the Church.  Because they rarely have money, they have never had to budget or plan anything, so they have no skills to do so as church leaders.  If you tell them they have $100 for an activity, they will likely spend $200.  When you raise the issue of staying to a budgeted amount, they look at you like you’re from a different world.  “What does that mean?  We wanted more juice and cookies, so we had to buy them!” Or, “You are over budget now so let's not spend any more money.”  “OK, but can you just ask someone for a little more?” Or, “Why did you write another check when we are out of money?” “Because we needed to have more money to buy the things we want.”  “Where do you think that money will come from?” “The Church.”  Or, “You cannot charge expenses at a store.” “Yes, we understand.” But the next week, we find out more things were charged – “Why did you do that when we clearly stated that you can’t charge things any more?” “Because we needed it,” will be the likely answer.  And so on – almost every leader overspends, and many leaders embezzle money, they just don’t see it as a serious breach of trust or as a misbehavior (and true to the “clan” culture – they will embezzle the money to enrich their own family and friends).  There is a saying in Fiji: “Rich for a day.”  That means, if you have money today, you will likely spend it – all of it, with what seems to be little thought for the future, for needs that might occur next month, or quarter, etc.  Hence, it is common for an organization or branch/ward to spend all of their allotted budget on a party as soon as the budget is issued.  When they need money for a future event (particularly something of real importance -- like traveling to the temple, or youth conference, etc.), they have none left and can’t figure out why “the Church just doesn’t give us more.”  In reality, it wouldn’t matter how much they were given, they’d still likely spend it all quickly because, they are “rich for a day.”  Additionally, the culture is designed to “level the playing field” and not let anyone “get ahead” – a residue of old village life.  As a result, if you have money, the chief may ask for it and redistribute it (or keep it for himself).  If the chief doesn’t come calling, then you can bet your relatives will – and everyone in a village is related in one way or another so the money will soon disappear.  Many may benefit, all the money will be gone, and there is no tomorrow.

9) Missionaries preach and testify of the “true church.” But when we bring an emerging convert who is full of hope and anticipation to church meetings, those meetings are likely going to be of little value – no planning, start late, no preparation, no teacher, and little sense of inspiration, etc.  In some cases, we don’t even want to invite them to church because it is generally so unsatisfactory (at least, it seems so to us).

10) Despite the mystique of loving Fijians (or, islanders in general), they are in reality, often not kind to each other.  They gossip, backbite, hold grudges, and even make up lies to harm their “perceived” enemies.  It is common and pervasive in the villages, and we see that evidenced in South Pacific Church leaders (Area Presidencies) often focusing on this issue in conference talks.  It is a significant cultural contradiction to gospel principles.

11) The gospel of Jesus Christ, and administering the Church of Jesus Christ requires a certain amount of “intervention” action.  A leader needs to anticipate needs, see needs, meet needs, help people repent, help them improve performance, and “look after the sheep.”  But Fijian culture is one of non-intervention – you don’t ask people why they do, or do not do something; you don’t “call them in” for an interview; you likely don’t even talk about feelings with others, including your own family.  It is not uncommon for us to ask a wife or husband or youth something about how someone in their family feels, why a person is not active, or not happy, or not coming to something, or not believing something.  Almost always there is a long blank pause, and then an answer that lets you know that they probably don’t know and would not consider asking: “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask them” is the reply. That is the Fijian way, and it is particularly acute when they relate to an elder person or someone in authority.  It’s primarily a “live and let live” society except when it comes to village hierarchy – then, everyone listens to the chief and it seems that asking questions is not expected or encouraged, let alone to question a policy or decision.  Given this culture, how do you teach a person to be a president of an organization, to “counsel” with others, and to get involved in people’s lives and their development, or have a younger person preside over an older person?  Mostly, you don’t.  So the Church structure doesn’t fare well here.

The list could go on and the frustration over it is almost unbearable at times.  We teach, re-teach, and re-teach again the vision and principles of church leadership and how to conduct themselves and their organizations, but it often makes almost no discernable difference.  We will go home having spent untold hours in meetings trying to help leaders understand how to lead and administer programs, and in the end they will likely be no different than they were before, and if we are not replaced by another senior couple these leaders will probably revert to their former practices as soon as we leave (that is, if they ever changed at all while we were here). This is the chief struggle we agonize over.

Church leaders once discussed just what is essential about the Church that must go with it to any and every country and culture.  They showed a graphic of a great wall with a very small entry opening.  Down the road from the "western Church" came a huge Conestoga style wagon loaded to the brim with its programs and policies and practices.  As it approached the small opening into that country, it was absurd to consider just how much the "load" would have to be lightened and reduced in order to fit through the opening.  The question was posed: "Just what is essential, and must be part of the restored Church?"  It's a provocative question, one we faced daily in Fiji and which we are largely unable to discern the appropriate answer (which, before we came, I may have smugly thought the answers were apparent and easy ~ not so).

Someone reading this might ask: “Well, maybe you’re trying to make Fijians into a western 1^st world type country/people and they are really just fine the way they are – why don’t you just accept them as they are and leave things be?”  And they would have a point there, IF the Church prospered the “Fijian way.”  But it doesn’t.  It functions very poorly and people soon revert back to their Methodist/Catholic/Pentecostal backgrounds – “Just go to Church for an hour on Sunday, listen to the minister, sing some nice songs and go home” – that’s all Church seems to mean and perhaps what is expected/wanted.  And before long they may just go back to their “easy church” affiliation: “So much better than being asked to teach, talk, lead – it’s embarrassing and uncomfortable so just let me be a simple follower, that’s all I want.”

Will we really have done any good at all while we were here in helping leaders learn how to lead?  That’s a haunting question with a pessimistic prognostication.  Will all the money we and the Church have spent, and the time given really merit the outcome?  Could we have not just stayed home and done more good in our own local community?  On really bad days, we wonder about these very real and personal questions and can feel despair.  On good days we feel that though we may not see it, there must be a divine plan in it all – as mysterious as it may be to our poor mortal vision at this time.

Recently on another discouraging day, I was praying about all this and gratefully had the peaceful assurance from Heavenly Father that our efforts were acceptable and that we may not be seeing progress but that it “would be worse if we were not here.” That may seem like a pale justification, but perhaps it is more important that we can know.  At this time, senior missionaries may just be custodians of the process until growth and maturity can come at some future “magical time.”  Doesn’t seem realistic, but we hope for that.

Just writing all this is reflective of our inner turmoil and while praying this morning I had to confront the fact that perhaps I’m even a little angry for all we’ve gone through. That’s a bit embarrassing to admit, and in my prayers I could sense that it was shameful.  A spirit driven conversation with Heavenly Father then ensued in that prayer:

“What did you think you were coming to when I called you to Fiji?”

            “Well, I guess in reality I thought we’d come, teach, be appreciated, and see improvement.”

“So you were thinking mostly of yourself, and how important and glorious you’d be?”

            “I didn’t think so, but yes – perhaps that is the case.”

“That’s not why you were sent here.  You were sent to love the people as they are, to accept them as they are, to appreciate them as they are, and to help them improve.  They haven’t had any of the advantages of progress that you’ve had, they know nothing of those things.  They are my children, and I sent you to bless them. The mission of my Son was not easy either – it was hard, complicated, and He was not appreciated and did not change many to whom He was sent” (e.g. “I came unto my own, and mine own received me not” – D&C 11:28-30).

            “I’m sorry Father, all of this complaint and feeling sorry for ourselves has been self-centered.  This is your mission, your charge, your calling to us.  I will hold all these challenges more quietly in my heart and look more for the good from now on.”

I recently wrote to a friend the following summary: “We're ready to come home.  Our adventures have been a mix of amazing, deeply touching, regularly frustrating, and often futile.  I think that must be the definition of a mission.  Though our Taveuni pictures portray a "paradise," living here is anything but.  Through it all, Annie and I have grown closer and depended on each other so much just to make it day to day.  It is reported that a General Authority called this kind of a mission, a "Green Beret" experience -- and it's definitely been that.  So we'll come home having grown up a lot in spiritual ways and in our love for God, each other, and a people so deserving of His blessing.  At the same time, it will have been an enigmatic period in our lives. All in all, we're grateful for having done something that we never would have knowingly chosen, but feeling a deep but mystifying confidence that this is just where our Heavenly Father wanted us.”

What keeps us going?  Perhaps a combination of obligation and the people we serve – always the people.  Like all of us, they are flawed but still, they are the children of God and if we really understood their culture and history better we likely would not be so exasperated at what appears to be an almost complete lack of progress.  Though we spend a lot of frustrating time in administrative activity, we do get to teach and introduce some of those beloved children to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and in the process we come to love them deeply.  They find happiness and meaning in it and our hearts become knit to theirs and that has brought extraordinary joy.  Though we think fondly of many, among the people we will most remember with great love are: Ba - Tuliana and Olivia, the Nairoqo and Matewai families, Miriam and her grandmother - Sister Mate, Sister Tabualevu; and, in Taveuni – Ela and Ana, Rosana, the Jale family, and Elena Maitatoga.  With each of these people we have spent many hours teaching the gospel, helping them to mature and prepare for the temple, and as a result we share a brother and sisterhood that is unique and touching as the gospel bridges cultural and language barriers and eternal friendships are forged.  It has not been uncommon for us to feel that somehow we must have known these dear friends in the pre-mortal world and made agreements there to find them again on earth and share the gospel together.

Many months ago, we fell in love with the Nairoqo family as we met regularly to prepare them for the temple.  We told them that the Prophet had asked more couples to serve missions and we had promised Heavenly Father that we would do so, and be willing to leave our family and beloved home to go wherever He called us.  We sang together, “It May Not Be On A Mountain Height.”  Soon after that, we were sitting in the Ba chapel for Sunday meetings and Saimone leaned back and whispered, “I’m glad you kept your promise.”  It so touched us and we will never forget that moment.  Time and difficult experiences tend to jade us and take the joyful edge off the wonderful moments. That’s a shame and I must guard against that “forgetting,” and the lack of gratitude associated with it.  Oh, Heavenly Father, thank you for these months in Fiji.  Thank you for trusting us and we pray to not let you and the beautiful Fijian people down.  Thank you for your watch care and love.