A Chinese Missionary's Perplexity and Reflection
Duoji[1]
Introduction
It is February. Phnom Penh is filled with brilliant sunlight, with heat pressing in, though it does not feel as suffocating as it did last year. This is our second year in Cambodia, and we are gradually becoming familiar with the country and adjusting to the city. This year's Spring Festival was more festive than last year's, as we wrote and posted couplets on the doorframe of our rented home. We are basically settled in here, slowly finding our rhythm and pace in our language learning and ministry collaboration. Our missionary journey is unfolding step by step.
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." (John 12:24; ESV)
1. My Missionary Experience
Over a decade ago, while I was a university student in Zhengzhou, I frequently attended campus fellowship group meetings, praying and studying the Bible with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Our understanding of missions was limited back then—mostly based on a few missionary biographies that were circulated among us. Young and fearless, we yearned for far-off mission fields, deeming it a sacred honor to be called by the Lord as missionaries—even if only once in our lifetime. So, we prayed earnestly for it. I remember that at one meeting, as we sang the hymn "Lord, Send Me", I was deeply moved, vaguely sensing—however faintly—that one day I might step out into the mission field.
In 2009, I quit my graduate studies and became a full-time worker in a house church. At that time, I did not care about prospects or consequences. I had only one desire—to be crazy for the Lord. I was afraid that I would end up like the rich young man in Mark 10, entangled by worldly affairs and unable to respond to the calling. Later, I attended a three-month Bible training camp during which I prayed fervently for God's guidance on which mission field to enter. After the training ended, the church honored my personal desire and sent me to the remote area of Tibet.
Nevertheless, not long after I arrived at the field, I realized that missions were not just about having passion. Tibet's unique high-altitude climate, intense religious atmosphere, and tight social controls posed great difficulty for my adjustment to life there. The team seemed unaware of the challenges of cross-cultural missions, and disagreed among themselves constantly on ministry direction and strategy. No one paid attention to the fact that I was a newcomer, and I thought I could handle everything on my own and push through. After a year of language study, I transitioned into bi-vocational ministry, only to find myself quickly drawn into a whirlwind of interpersonal conflicts, unable to break free from such poor conditions. Mission work moved forward slowly little fruit.
That same year, I got married, and had to face new challenges of family life and marital tensions. Entangled in storms from all sides, I realized that what I had imagined as a passion-filled mission on the Tibetan plateau had unexpectedly turned into a lingering nightmare. In despair, I found myself counting down to the day I would collapse—the moment the nightmare would end. It was only later that I realized that I did not have to be so hopeless. It is true that my spiritual life was in crisis, but it was never too late to leave the field and return to the homeland for further training in missions.
In 2018, I applied to a domestic seminary and enrolled in an intensive M.Div. program. After eight years in Tibet, I brought my family back home. Around that time, there was growing interest in Christian education, and I was invited by a church in Zhengzhou to help start a Christian school. Then, in the following few years, my life went through a painful yet joyful transformation. I learned to enjoy the study of Biblical truth, to accept the real state of my spiritual life, and to discover new paths for spiritual growth. At the same time, being involved in Christian education led me to care more deeply about the next generation and reflect on how to cultivate in them a holistic faith grounded in church traditions. Gradually, a new picture began to form in my mind: whether in Christian education, spiritual formation, or cross-cultural mission, we are all embarking on a journey of pilgrimage and homecoming.
After a few years in Zhengzhou, my family arrived in Cambodia at the end of 2023. The COVID-19 pandemic had just subsided, yet economic downturns had significantly impacted the church—my church and school were facing financial strain. After visiting Cambodia and much prayer, my colleagues and I unanimously decided to come there for mission, and three families set out together first. After arriving in Phnom Penh, we spent almost a year settling down. By now, we have begun language learning and joined in ministry collaboration. Nevertheless, though we have found our footing in this new land, our journey as missionaries is only just beginning.
2. Reflections on Mission (First Stage)
Looking back on my past missionary experience, this journey feels both real and unreal—It is somewhat regretful to see that I seem to have left few footprints on the path I have walked. I have met many missionaries; among them, Chinese missionaries often carry a sense of both solemn heroism and quiet uncertainty. Early this century, churches in China buzzed with visions of global missions. Now, that voice has faded, and missions have become an awkward topic. I have been reflecting on the lessons and experiences of my fellow missionaries, as well as the opportunities and challenges we face today, hoping that what we have learned might guide and help Chinese churches move forward on this mission journey. My reflections on mission have unfolded in two stages, with the first stage focusing on identifying problems among Chinese missionaries. These problems include the following:
First, Chinese churches in general are not very responsive to the call to mission and lack sufficient awareness of the challenges in cross-cultural missions. Issues such as environmental and cultural adaptation are largely overlooked. Frontline teams and mission work remain constrained by home churches. Mission strategies often lack long-term planning and appear to be quite random. When missionaries face practical difficulties, they receive neither timely care nor effective support. Some were even abandoned by their sending churches, which chose to withdraw entirely when their long-term investment of manpower and resources seemed to yield little visible fruit. As a result, many missionaries are lost, with some remaining in the field as scattered lone rangers working independently. This is not an isolated case but a widespread issue.
Second, Chinese missionaries often lack a kingdom perspective and mostly operate independently. In the same mission field, missionaries sent by different churches or from varying denominational backgrounds tend to have little communication or mutual understanding, let alone trust or collaboration. Overlapping ministries not only lead to the wasting of mission resources, but also undermine the gospel witness in the field. What's even worse is that differences in mission strategies are often misconstrued as essential differences in principles and subjected to criticism. Consequently, conflicts between and within teams often escalate into severe strife and even mutual attacks, making the mission work unsustainable.
Third, most Chinese missionaries are not well educated and poorly equipped in Bible knowledge. Many entered the mission field with the mistaken belief that engaging in work alone would provide them with valuable experience and naturally shape them into effective missionaries. The reality is that the mission field is not merely a workplace but a spiritual battleground. Once initial passion fades, personal flaws begin to surface in teamwork and family life. Heavily shaped by their traditional cultural values and personal experiences, many missionaries tend to habitually hide their shortcomings and avoid directly confronting those of others. Sadly, despite their efforts to cautiously navigate all these relational tensions, most of them would end up being entangled in the conflicts of the field and the pressures of taking care of their families. As a result, they can neither meet the demands of mission nor face setbacks. Many missionaries struggle in such spiritual lows, with some drifting away from their original calling, turning their mission work into means for personal gain.
Fourth, since arriving in Cambodia, I've noticed that we often rely too much on foreign mission resources. Yet, many foreign organizations seem to have a wait-and-see approach toward missionaries from China. So, a key challenge we now face is how to humbly learn about missions and collaboration from experienced mission organizations and individual missionaries.
3. My Reflections on Mission (Second Stage)
The above were my earlier views. It still feels heavy to revisit them. For a long time, I was deeply dissatisfied with my mission experience. All I could see were the myriad challenges facing Chinese churches in their mission work. These challenges weighed on me, becoming my burden and lament. My experience in Tibet, in particular, left a lasting shadow that I could not shake. When I first arrived in Cambodia, I could hardly identify my role in the new mission field. I could not understand God's leading in the past, and feared that my experience serving in Tibet would repeat itself here.
In the midst of confusion and unease over the past few months, I began revisiting and examining my past with Jesus through spiritual exercises. This review has given me a fresh perspective on my missionary journey. I no longer feel the need to add new problems to the list above or to propose specific solutions. Instead, as I reflected on cross-cultural mission work along with my experience in Christian education and theological training, I discovered that spiritual formation is essential to all of them. What I mean by spiritual formation is that it goes beyond traditional personal devotion; rather, it involves companionship with a spiritual mentor (or a spiritual companion). Through this companionship, we together discover God's presence in daily life and discern the work and guidance of the Holy Spirit. As the inner person is nourished in God's love day by day, we begin to grow steadily and gain the strength to confront life challenges. Without a doubt, such spiritual formation is what Chinese churches need today in order to raise up mature and effective missionaries. This insight is the fruit of what I call my second-stage reflection.
Once again, I must recount my own experience. Before, I used to often feel trapped in spiritual lows, drowning in emotional helplessness with no escape. But now, with the guidance of a spiritual mentor, I have re-examined the foggy path from the past and realized that even at those low points, God placed within me a deep longing for Him, and helped me make choices that drew me closer to Him. Under His guidance, I was like a bee gently moving from flower to flower—sipping nectar from each bloom, then moving to the next—neither fighting nor dominating, neither fixating on flowers from the past nor envying other bees. It is this image of the bee that frees me from my Tibet experience and teaches me how to view each of my co-workers around me. Indeed, Tibet is no longer a brutal battlefield I tried to avoid but a flower I once visited—a station in my life growth journey. It is precisely through many stations like Tibet that God has shaped me into the person I am today, able to stand confidently in His presence.
Rediscovering my place before God was a remarkable spiritual breakthrough for me. I used to think that zeal alone was sufficient for living out my faith and engaging in mission work, unaware of how deeply social and cultural influences—along with life experiences—had shaped me to the point that I felt as though I were constantly living under the harsh gaze of others—and even of God. Now I finally realize that what we truly need is not to strive to do better but to become like children, resting in the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. In His loving gaze, we simply enjoy being His children, as well as His gifts of family and work. Mission fields can be tough, but as long as our lives are rooted in the Holy Spirit, the self-awareness and discernment we receive from Him will free us from rigid beliefs and emotional turmoil, and empower us to flourish and bear fruit.
Cultivating such intimacy with God is also crucial for developing healthy relationships with the church. In the past, I used to passionately urge churches to participate in mission work and easily got frustrated and even resentful of their slow response. But now I understand that the Chinese church may not be ready or mature enough for the heavy task of global mission. Her strength is still very limited, and she is growing slowly. In the last 20 years, she rushed into the mission fields with expectations that were too high, and thus put excessive pressure on herself when her initial zeal was tested and worn down by the difficulties of cross-cultural mission. She is now calming down and humbly seeking to find an appropriate place and role in the global church family. There is a long way to go for Chinese missionaries to become the main force of global mission. We need to be patient with ourselves.
Mission work often comes with difficulties and challenges. It is urgent for Chinese missionaries to recognize and accept our limitations and foster discernment and sensitivity to follow the lead of the Spirit to press forward. The spiritual life has always been central to Christian faith and mission. To vitalize the Chinese church's mission work, we need a type of spiritual formation that can transform head knowledge of God into heart-level intimacy, fostering our deeper relationship with Him. In a sense, pastors preaching from pulpits, theologians training students in seminaries, or Christian teachers guiding children in churches or schools can be a way of formation as long as they provide step-by-step guidance tailored to the actual needs of those they serve. This involves patiently cultivating in them self-awareness of the soul, understanding of the essence of spiritual life, and sensitivity to the Holy Spirit.
Conclusion
The above reflection is just my personal missionary experience and insight. However, I think it speaks for many co-workers to some degree. In Cambodia, as we live and serve, we also learn to care for our spiritual lives. We may be immature right now, but we are growing toward maturity. There are certain stages of growth in life that we cannot—and should not—skip. We as a team are on the missionary journey, growing alongside the Chinese church. We pray that God may be gracious to Chinese churches and missionaries and help us accept who we are and where we are. Like humble pilgrims, may we each focus on every step along the path, journeying forward and growing all the while.
[1] Duoji is a post-1980s Christian from mainland China. He lives and serves in Cambodia with his wife and their daughter and son.