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Foreigners, Fear, and Us
By Debbi DiGennaro
My stories of cross-cultural blunders are as sordid as
any traveler’s—there was the time I said to a Nicaraguan
man, “You’re a pig,” fully in jest, not knowing that’s an
obscene insult in Nicaragua. This was particularly sensitive
because I was an RMM intern, and he was my pastor.
There was also the time that I, allegedly, gave an
African male friend the “magic wink,” and next thing I
knew, his parents started negotiations for my dowry.
Friendship across ethnicity. It’s like a Pandora’s Box—
we are simultaneously curious and scared. People from other
cultures are fascinating, with their red-hot saris and drippy
baklava, and at the same time, frightfully unknown. Veiled faces
and foreign languages can make us feel sharply uncomfortable.
Friendship across cultures is a box we may prefer to
leave closed. But no matter how we feel about it (the veils, the
baklava), the reality is that people from other ethnic groups
have found our little Mennonite enclaves and are moving in.
Mennonites are uniquely positioned to build friendship with
foreigners. In this article, I suggest three steps to get us started.
Step one is to cultivate a holy curiosity; step two is to take a
natural step forward; step three is to pray, listen, and obey God.
God crosses ethnic boundaries, so does the Gospel,
and so should we. It’s not easy, but it is simple, and for the
sake of the Kingdom, we can learn to do it well.
Step 1: Cultivate a holy curiosity.
Ask God to whet your curiosity about the ethnic people
around you. Are you fascinated by the henna on an Indian
woman’s hand? By Turkish music? Do you love the little
Greek restaurant down the road?
When I was in high school, I worked as a cashier at
a Mom & Pop’s store called Beiler’s Supermarket, near
Hartville, Ohio. Our town had a small community of
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• Brotherhood Beacon
Ukrainian immigrants. Whenever a Ukrainian customer
entered the store, I would speed up or slow down my
work to make sure my line was enticingly short when the
Ukrainian lady came to check out.
I never actually spoke to the Ukrainian ladies—I was
completely at a loss for what to say—but my brief encounters
with them were the most exciting part of my cashier work.
This softness toward foreigners, when offered to God,
can become a holy curiosity. “I am asking you to do what I
have been doing for the past seven years,” said Mel Shelter at
CMC’s conference this year. “Ask God every morning to give
you a missional heart.” An interested, missional approach is
the first step to developing a relationship with foreigners.
The main obstacle to this “holy curiosity” is fear. We
fear many things. Most importantly, am I going to look
stupid? (We are practical people.) We wonder if this foreign
person is going to try to convert us. Or maybe he hates
Americans and wants to blow us up. Although these worstcase scenarios may come true, they usually don’t. These
logistical fears do not really deserve a lot of attention.
When fear is in the driver’s seat, it always isolates
people from each other. I have a Mennonite friend who
married an Arab, and she tells me how difficult it is for them
to be with her family. Her family doesn’t know what to do
with her husband. He, well . . . he dances—like, with his
arms up in the air. He does not play the Mennonite game.
Nor Scrabble. He does not know the tenor line of “Great Is
Thy Faithfulness.”
What if this gets embarrassing? What if I am
uncomfortable? Various fears tempt the Mennonite family—
and all the rest of us – to steer clear of a potentially awkward
situation with a new foreign friend, when in truth, the best
response is to engage.
But curiosity is a remedy for the fear and awkwardness.
It cuts through our clumsy attempt at conversation; it cuts
through a foreign friend’s spotty English. Curiosity could
inspire a conservative mother-in-law to throw back her head
and try the steps of an Arabic dance.
Curiosity opens up a space where the other person can
be not-like-me, and it’s all right. It gives us a way to take
baby steps into a relationship with a foreign friend.
So let’s assume that at this point, you are curious about
the foreign people around you.
Step 2: Take a natural step forward.
Would you invite any other new friend out for coffee?
Would you host a book club? Would you invite him to play
golf with you?
You don’t have to be an anthropologist to relate with
foreign people. Just be yourself. Step out and do something
that is (mostly) natural for you. Jesus turned two loaves and
seven small fish into a huge potluck; whatever small thing
you have in your hand is the place to start.
When I heard that a local community center needed
English teachers, I volunteered to teach a class of Somali
women. I have worked before in adult education, and I
know the director of the center, so it was easy to arrange.
My students “study” English vocabulary through folk songs
like John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” and
English proverbs. Our classes have also opened the door to
telling stories from the Bible and the Quran – which, in my
opinion, makes the class a home run.
Jewel Showalter tells a story from Turkey, when she
was a young missionary. One Sunday morning, seven
Turks showed up at her door—unexpected—seemingly
to participate in their home church. In a complete panic,
she fled to her kitchen, ostensibly to make tea, where she
spluttered to God, “What can I do? I can’t read the Bible or
pray in Turkish!” (A rough way to start a house church.)
God replied, “Do you have five words and two sentences?”
“Well, yes.”
“Just give me the five words and two sentences that
you have.”
I can imagine Jewel, leaned up against her kitchen
counter, rehearsing her five words as she boiled water for
tea. Conversation over tea was the most natural thing she
could do with a group of Turks – not easy, but natural.
Nothing much happened that Sunday, as her story goes.
She sat on the floor and husked pistachios while her husband
Richard entertained the guests, and then the Turks went
home. But because of their hospitality that day, one man
came to Jesus later on—I’ll finish that story in a second.
Let’s assume that at this point, you have found a
foreign person who particularly piques your interest, and
you have managed to quell your fears and actually talk to
that person and do something with him or her that feels
(mostly) natural to you.
(above) This Ethiopian meal is one of Debbi’s favorites.
(top far left) These are the Somali students from Debbi’s English class.
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Step 3: Pray—listen—obey.
This simple sequence is the basis for our lives as
disciples of Jesus. “God can’t drive a parked car,” but at this
point, you’ve got your car into first gear. You have a foreign
friend. What next? Ask God.
Although your foreign friend is new to you, he is very
familiar to God. You don’t know what is happening behind
the scenes, his recent dreams, or his private prayers, but God
does. He has been active in your friend’s life since he was
born. God can tell you what comes next.
If you think it’s unlikely that God would talk to you
about your friend, then you should get to know Him better.
God loves to tell us how to pray! He loves to clue us into his
agenda. We can expect God to talk to us, to give us ideas. The
Holy Spirit is seriously underused in most people’s lives.
Let’s go back to Jewel at her home in Turkey, where she
obediently gave God her five words and two sentences.
One of Jewel’s five-words-and-two-sentences guests
came to her a year later, and told his behind-the-scenes story:
He was a terrorist. The day he came to Jewel and
Richard’s house, his intention was to infiltrate their
house church. As he sat in their living room and enjoyed
Richard’s pleasant conversation (as any of us would), he
decided that the family was nice enough and didn’t deserve
to die. In fact, he became curious about this Jesus thing,
and came back to the house church several times after that,
although he never made any sort of commitment.
A few months later, he got a bad headache one day
while he was alone at a friend’s apartment. He scrounged
around in their medicine cabinet and swallowed a few pills
that looked like about the right thing.
The pills were not the right thing, and he immediately
had an allergic attack. As his throat swelled shut, he realized
that he was going to suffocate, alone in the apartment. Then
he remembered stories about Jesus, and desperately choked
out the words, “Heal me, Jesus.”
His esophagus slowly began to open. The allergic
reaction released its grip, and he was able to breathe again.
As soon as he could, he went back to Jewel’s house. “I
want to become a Christian!” he said. “I don’t know what I
will have to suffer, but I want Jesus.”
It all had started with Jewel’s five words and two
sentences; that is, it started with her obedience. God had a
plan for that terrorist. The man is a pastor in Istanbul today.
When God gives instructions and we obey, we should
tell someone what has happened. Giving witness to God’s
involvement encourages others to step out past their fears. If you
don’t have friends you can share with, you can email me. Look
down at the end of this page, and you will find my email address.
Seriously. I love to hear about cross-cultural divine appointments.
As for me, I don’t work as a cashier anymore. I moved
to Africa and I work with my husband, Aram DiGennaro,
to lead the Eastern Mennonite Missions team in Nairobi,
Kenya. I promise that no magic pixie dust gets sprinkled on
missionaries—genuine cross-cultural relationships are as
stretching for us as they may be for you.
When interacting with people from other ethnic groups,
it may be helpful to remember that we, too, are one group
of many. We Mennonites do not set the global standard for
“normal.” Our lives and homes are full of unique customs. Let’s
be honest—not all American families are excited about Thrift
Stores. Not all women around the world snip up tiny pieces of
fabric and then sew them back together. We truly are a peculiar
people. Raising my children abroad, I have come to value the
way that the Mennonite community acts as an ethnic group for
us, in terms of giving a sense of identity and belonging.
(above) It’s natural to have coffee with a new friend.
Photos by Amanda Weber Miller
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Debbi and her husband Aram are members of the
Columbus Network of Microchurches. They moved from
Columbus five years ago to work with the Mennonite
churches in East Africa. Debbi is currently writing a book
about cultural competence for Westerners in Africa. She
can be reached with your stories at debbi.digennaro@
gmail.com. Both Debbi and Aram are RBC alums.
Ad created from photo by Mieke ten Have.
As Mennonites, we are uniquely positioned to interact with
the stranger and visitor (perhaps more than most Americans)
because of our emphasis on social justice, our countercultural
identity, and our own story of coming to the US as religious
refugees. We can identify with the story of running for our
lives because it overlaps with our story as well. Relationship
across cultures is not something we should only tolerate, like
a scratchy tag on the back of our T-shirt; it’s a mission we as
Mennonites should actively engage.
But regardless of how peculiar we are, or the next guy
is, the final point that I want to make is this: Your mission
field at home is equally “ripe for the harvest” as mine is in
Africa. The internet tells me there are over 35,000 Somali
people in Columbus, Ohio, and a huge Kurdish community
in Lancaster County. In the Elkhart, Indiana, area, almost
three of every 20 people you encounter will be Latinos.
The people of the world, whom God loves, and whose
languages He speaks impeccably, are landing on your door
step. Don’t panic! As you deepen your innate holy curiosity,
initiate natural relationships in a natural way, and pray,
listen, and obey God, strangers can become friends.
But do try to avoid giving African men the “magic wink.”
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