Scatter: Go Therefore and Take Your Job With You - Softcover

Scott, Andrew

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0802412904 ISBN 13: 9780802412904

Publisher: Moody Publishers, 2016

Synopsis

"You were created for one purpose: live your life for God’s glory. You need no further special call. You have been created uniquely to do this uniquely, so work out what you’re passionate about, good at, and fit for, and go do it." — Andrew Scott

In Scatter, missions innovator Andrew Scott sounds a call for a new era of missions, one that uses the global marketplace for gospel growth and sees every Christian—engineer, baker, pastor, or other—as God’s global image bearer.

Andrew has served in over 52 countries and is the U.S. president of one of the world’s largest mission agencies. With eyes on a quickly-growing world and a slower-growing church, he sees that our traditional mission models simply won’t do. Here he gives a guide to change it up.

Helping us see the grand narrative of Scripture and how each of us fits within it, he issues a compelling call: scatter.

About this title

About the Author

ANDREW SCOTT is the President and CEO of OM USA, part of a global mission movement working in 118 nations. He grew up in Northern Ireland where he married his childhood sweetheart and now lives with his family in Tyrone, GA. A former butcher, turned pastor he has travelled to over eighty countries. He plays soccer, shows dogs and loves to scuba dive.

From the Back Cover

"God has repeatedly told us to fill the earth . . . The people of God have constantly gotten stuck, settled, and soft, and He has had to shake us out of this state. My prayer is that we will be the first generation to scatter on purpose . . . That we will go into every sector of society—business, arts, education, and more—and be the Daniels of our day: being good at what we do, gaining favor in our workplace, and having the credibility and freedom to share our faith boldly."—Andrew Scott

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Scatter

Go Therefore and Take Your Job with You

By Andrew Scott, Elizabeth Cody Newenhuyse

Moody Publishers

Copyright © 2016 Andrew Scott
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-8024-1290-4

Contents

Introduction, 9, 
1 — SNAPSHOTS What's wrong with this picture?, 21, 
2 — SCATTER Sojourners. Pilgrims. Aliens., 43, 
3 — THE ARTIST A self-portrait, 65, 
4 — IMPRINTED! Our unmistakably remarkable identity, 81, 
5 — DESIGNED You, the real you and nothing but you, 95, 
6 — UNIQUE Made by Excellence for excellence, 105, 
7 — REFRAMING WORK The marketplace as the place of mission, 129, 
8 — TEN TIMES BETTER The irresistible attraction of God's glory, 147, 
9 — DISRUPTED Everything is changing, 171, 
10 — SNAPSHOTS A more correct picture, 185, 
Epilogue, 197, 
Note to Pastors and Mission Leaders, 199, 
Notes, 209, 
Acknowledgments, 213, 
About the Author, 215, 

CHAPTER 1

SNAPSHOTS

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

Made
to shine but we have hidden,
to love but we stay distant,
to give but we mostly keep.
The world waits, groans, dies.
Untouched, seemingly forgotten.
A people made to fill the earth
with light, love, and goodness
Remain.

SNAPSHOT #1

The face of hopelessness

Click! It happened again. The picture was captured. Not on camera but by my brain and eyes (I have a suspicion my heart was involved also) working cleverly together, a picture then filed in a very accessible and often visited folder in my mind. A moment indelibly burned into my memory. An image that will shape who I am and how I view life from this point forward.

The little girl had tightly braided hair woven with masses of colorful beads that bounced around her head as she played on the side of the dusty excuse for a road in a town that hope seemed to have forgotten. The air was heavy with dirt particles thrown up by the slow-moving vehicles and the smell of stale alcohol wafting from the darkly lit bars, which seemed too plentiful in this slum. They called this Main Street, possibly because it was the only place in this "town" where you could buy anything. It was lined with little stalls (and bars) selling mostly tomatoes and manned only by women colorfully clad in traditional African dresses. The men, slumped over railings, chairs, and windowsills, seemed to think that their single role in life was to keep the aforementioned bars open. Loud music belted out from these establishments, only partially drowning out the heated arguments that seemed to be a normal and frequent occurrence on Main Street. The road itself was really only dirt, with lots of deep holes that our driver seemed intent on exploring in their entirety. Fine dust covered everything, robbing it of its original beauty and color.

That is, apart from the kids. Even the African dust could not hide the beauty I saw in that little girl's face. She was probably eight or nine years old and was wearing a cream dress with multicolored polka dots and a frilly skirt. No shoes. Her hair, plaited with multicolored beads, caught my eye as we approached, but her eyes made me look again. Or maybe it was the lines that ran down from her big brown eyes where tears had cut a track in the caked dust layered on her skin. She had probably fallen earlier and hurt herself. A smile was cracking as she saw the strange white face looking back at her.

I had seen similar sights many times in my travels, but it was what happened next that caused my eyes, brain, and heart to do their thing. My host, OM's leader in that part of the world, turned to me and said, "Andrew, do you know that every girl in this village will be raped by someone she knows before she is ten years old?"

Click.

Filed.

SNAPSHOT #2

The desert city

It was easily 110 degrees (40°C) as we stood almost a thousand feet (300m) up on top of the tall, ornate tower overlooking the capital city. As far as we could see, sandy-colored buildings stretched into the distance and eventually stopped somewhere in the desert beyond our line of sight. Down below, 6 million people were intently going about living life, providing for their families. Minarets were evenly distributed throughout the landscape, each one letting us know that it was time for prayer through their noisy loudspeakers. In the midst of the cacophony of sound emitting from the traffic-filled streets and the hundreds of muezzins calling to the multitude, we gazed out on the vastness of what our eyes were taking in when one of our leaders from that region said, "Andrew, do you know that we do not know of any followers of Jesus in this entire city?"

Click.

Filed.

On both occasions it was as if time stopped just long enough for something to well up deep inside me. What little girl in this dusty, dirty, forgotten slum is being raped today? How many of these dear Muslim people will die today having never once heard of Jesus' love for them? No matter what I do next, tomorrow is going to be too late for some. Out of a churning mix of spiritual and emotional angst burst a guttural, primal response: "This has got to change."

These two photos are often pulled out of that "filing cabinet." Each time they appear I am wrecked. In a strange way, I don't mind because they represent reality and I want to live in that place rather than in the place of ignorance or denial.

This is the world we live in. This is happening on our watch — at a time when we enjoy more technology, resources, and ability to travel than ever before and the number of Christ followers in the world has never been bigger.

How can that be?

Something is not right.

My father the pessimist

My father was one of the godliest men I have ever known. I am deeply indebted to him and my mother for how they brought up my siblings and me. He was also a card-carrying, highly committed, practicing pessimist. The pastor of the church we grew up in recounted a story to me that sums my dad up well.

Our church was soon to go on a vacation together to Scotland. The week before, my father, as the church elder, was in the pastor's room with him just before they were to go out to lead the church for the Sunday morning service. Seconds before they were to leave the room he turned to the pastor and said, "Well, if the bus doesn't crash and the boat doesn't sink, this time next week we will be in Scotland." The pastor walked out that day laughing, which was not typical for the church I grew up in.

My father's pessimistic outlook on life is the one thing I did not want to emulate. In fact, I think early on I committed to being an optimist. I am not sure if I have the member's card yet, but I do like to think of myself as having a positive outlook on life and always seeking to see the best in people and circumstances. My commitment even affects the movies I choose. I will never, and I mean never, go to see a movie with a sad ending. There are enough horrible things happening and bad endings in the real world, I don't need Hollywood adding to it.

I remember one time when I let my guard down. It was when I was dating my girlfriend (now my wife). I took her to see the movie My Girl. I was proud of the fact that I let Sharon choose the movie, even though there would clearly be no car chases, or anything getting blown up. Just perfect for a date night, such was my commitment to my woman. If you are old enough to have seen the movie (no, it was not in black and white) and can remember the plot, you will know that there are two main characters, a young boy and girl who are falling in love. Halfway through the movie the boy gets stung by a swarm of bees and dies. No kidding!

I was seriously gutted. For the rest of the movie I waited and hoped that he would miraculously come back to life. You see, I don't care if the ending is unbelievably farfetched — if you are making a fictional movie you have total freedom to write resurrection into the plot, especially if I am paying you $10 to come watch your movie. The boy did not come back to life, and I left the theater totally depressed. The fact that it comes to mind at all probably means I am still dealing with the trauma.

Some happier snapshots

So I believe I am an optimist and some have even accused me of being an idealist. (You are probably in agreement right now.) And I am proud to be one. This is fed further when I read quotes like the one from Patrick Johnstone that states, "We are living in an age with the greatest ingathering of souls the church has ever seen," and I get excited. Hallelujah!! And it is true! When those who know tell me that there are fewer unreached people groups (ethnic groups where Christians make up less than 2 percent of the total) today than there were last year, I say, "Praise God!" When I hear that our teams in India are seeing a new church planted every other day my heart races; and when I hear that 26,000 Dalit kids destined for slavery are now in our schools with a bright hope for the future, I just go, Wow! Or, that the church in Algeria is exploding with well over one hundred thousand believers and that some towns have more worshipers of Jesus than the number of those attending the mosque ... incredible!

Another fact: The percentage of those living in extreme poverty (earning less than $1.25 a day) has dramatically declined in the last three decades. AMAZING! This feeds the optimist in me, and something rises up and celebrates (as much as a slightly introverted Irishman can). I like to feel that all is well and we are doing what Jesus asked of us, so let's keep doing what we have always done and we will see the Great Commission completed in our lifetime, possibly even by the end of the week.

However.

Back to reality

Maybe I am getting older, or my father's genes are coming to the fore, but if I am really honest I have to admit that when I take the time to look deeper at how we as followers of Jesus are doing in bringing His hope to those who have never even heard it once, and those who are being forgotten in society, left to be oppressed, abused, abandoned, hungry, enslaved without a voice, I have to fight pessimism. Yes, this optimist struggles with doubt and discouragement. You see, all is not as well as it seems. Behind the statistics that make me feel good, there is another story.

So let me share a few more of the pictures that are filed in that often-visited folder in my mind that come out to wreck me on a regular basis and help to paint the reality of the forgotten of our world.

SNAPSHOT #3

She is forgotten

It was hot — not Georgia summer hot, North India dry season hot. The triple-digit Fahrenheit heat baked the ground hard and steadily sapped strength from every human being who needed to be in its direct line of fire. I was relatively fine as I was being taken from air-conditioned car to fan-cooled rooms to view our work among the millions of unreached and forgotten Dalits in North India. Three stories up, standing on the balcony of our training center, I saw them. Out in the fields, just beyond the property line, Dalit women crouched over with a small sickle in hand, cutting the ripened wheat. It was slow and arduous. They had been there since early morning and would still be there for a few more hours, working all day in this hellish heat. Their goal was to provide for their family — a goal they would fail miserably at every day of their life. The dollar a day they would receive from the landowner would not stretch far enough to feed their large family, never mind cover basic medical needs. Forget education for their children. Every day a woman would walk wearily home to continue her role as mother and wife, cooking the meager meal that her dollar could buy. They would all go to bed hungry. Tomorrow she would wake up early to do it all over again.

The cycle of extreme poverty will continue for her, her kids, and tens of millions like her — destined to hopelessness. And as far as she is concerned, forgotten by the world.

Click. Filed. Often reviewed.

Poor and forgotten

This picture is true for 1.2 billion of our world. In fact, over 2 billion live on less than $2 a day. And don't be fooled into thinking that $2 is enough to live, in "those poorer countries." Two dollars a day will keep most of these families in extreme deprivation, hungry, and with no ability to access basic medical care, education, and clean water.

It is true that the percentage of extremely poor in our world has declined, but when you probe into that statistic you will find that all is not well. Not well at all. The number of individuals who are extremely poor in a region like Sub-Saharan Africa has actually doubled in the last three decades. A recent survey showed that in India there has been an increase of 105 million extremely poor in the same period. There is controversy over how China, the biggest contributor to the statistical decline of global poverty, categorizes their poor. In a sense they may have simply shifted the goalposts.

Enslaved and forgotten

In 2013, we said there were 27 million slaves in our world. In 2014, more robust research stated that we found a few more and there are actually 37 million. At the end of 2014, Kailash Satyarthi, Indian child slavery abolitionist and 2014 Nobel Peace Prize winner (so he probably knows what he's talking about), stated that in India alone there were 60 million children in forced labor, an undeniable form of slavery. The conditions of bonded labor are completely inhuman. Small children of six, seven years and older are forced to work fourteen hours a day, without breaks or a day of rest. If they cry for their parents, they are beaten severely, sometimes hanged upside-down from the trees and even branded or burned with cigarettes. They are often kept half-fed because the employers feel that if they are fed properly, then they will be sleepy and slow in their work. In many cases they are not even permitted to talk to each other or laugh out loud because it makes the work less efficient. It is medieval. It is today. It is not a piece of ancient history; it is real today and the daily reality for tens of millions. I am not okay with this snapshot.

SNAPSHOT #4

A vast crowd ... ignored

I was sitting in the back of an old OM van in the prime of my idealism as a nineteen-year-old. Our excited team was having multiple conversations as we wove our way through the beautiful eastern European countryside. Village after village came and went, each one filled with local people going about their business. Kids playing on the sidewalks, farmers with unsafe-looking loads stacked high on their rickety trailers, and women carrying heavy piles of produce either bought or for selling. My cheek was pressed against the cold window, my mind racing and wrestling with a statement the pastor made before we set off: "There are no known believers in this region." Every hardworking mother, every well-meaning industrious father, every carefree kid that we were driving past did not know Jesus. In fact, they had never heard of Him or His love for them. And there was no outpost trying to change that.

Since then I have had the privilege of visiting over seventy countries. I have experienced that sight and that feeling many times. Clicked and filed and reviewed.

The Excel sheet snapshot

Statistics are very one-dimensional and not often inspiring. That is why I have shared my stories and pictures with you. But facts and statistics are necessary, and can help us greatly. With these snapshots in my life it ensures my heart is always alive and alert to the plight of the unreached and forgotten of our world. With statistics I begin to understand the magnitude of the plight. And here, my friends, is why I struggle with pessimism the most. When OM started there were 1.5 billion who had never heard of Jesus once. When I joined our movement at nineteen years old we were challenged by the fact that the unreached in the world had grown in number to 1.6 billion. Today there are 2.8 billion. That is nearly three thousand million people. Or take the population of North America, South America, and Europe, then double it and you are getting close to the number who have never heard about Jesus one time and are living outside the reach of that message getting to them. With most of these people, no one is even trying to bring that message to them. That means for 2.8 billion people there is the distinct possibility that they will live their whole life and die having never heard, not even once, in any form, that Jesus loved them enough to die for them and lives again to give them abundant life and eternal hope. What an injustice! To make matters worse, a recent paper put out by a very reputable mission research group from Gordon-Conwell Seminary shows that by 2050, based on current population growth among the unreached and our efforts to reach them, the percentage of those in our world who will not have heard about Jesus will only change by 2 percent. That means in our lifetime the number of unreached will increase by hundreds of millions. Islam alone will grow by over 1 billion primarily due to high birthrates.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Scatter by Andrew Scott, Elizabeth Cody Newenhuyse. Copyright © 2016 Andrew Scott. Excerpted by permission of Moody Publishers.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: Moody Publishers
• Publication date: 2016
• ISBN 10: 0802412904
• ISBN 13: 9780802412904
• Binding: Paperback
• Language: English
• Number of pages: 224