Gordon Graner. Photos courtesy of Gordon Graner and Solar Oven Partners.

Gordon Graner who has served as a missionary in Bolivia and the Donimican Republic for 30 years and will continue to serve in retirement, took some time to answer some questions about his ministry journey. Graner and his wife, Ardell, were nurtured in their passion to serve others growing up in North Dakota. He shares that his ministry journey has taken him out of his comfort zone, into strange foreign lands, comforted by sharing God's grace and love with many. 

Tell us about your ministry journey, what has been your career path, and the places you have been appointed?

The first time that I crossed a cultural boundary in search of a mission was the summer of 1973. I boarded an airplane in Bismarck, ND, to travel to Lexington, KY, my first time to fly. I was headed for Redbird Mission as a volunteer to do whatever the missionaries there put me to do. I was nervous but not afraid. OK, I was a little frightened, but my instincts that led me to this mission adventure were God-given, not to worry. The first day, at the mess hall for staff, volunteers, and local students, I sat down to breakfast and was introduced to some of the finest people I had ever met. They treated me like family, and I quickly felt that I was not only welcome but had found what I was looking for. I was a stranger far from home, but I had also found my way home.

In 1981 my wife Ardell and I packed up our bags and began our first cross country adventure together. We moved from Fargo, ND to Wilmore, Kentucky, to study at Asbury Seminary. There were sacrifices made, especially by Ardell, as she worked to put me through school. It was a cross-cultural experience rich in new relationships, along with times of feeling awkward and alone. Ardell carried the greater burden of finding work in a strange land. And yet, once again, the path we chose led to another place that soon felt like home.

Our next move in 1983 was from rural Kentucky to the very urban setting of Chicago. I had signed up for another year of seminary training, this time in a major city. It was exciting in a scary sort of way. It was the next step in preparing to be missionaries, living in a multicultural context that stretched our adaptation limits. We worked with refugees from all over the world, helping to resettle them in a strange land. Their adaptation was obviously much more significant, and they taught us so much about joy amid great change. Chicago became home to hundreds of refugees from Southeast Asia, Africa, Eastern Europe, and Afghanistan. They became our brothers and sisters in Chicago, their new home, and our new home.

After four years in inner-city Chicago, we decided we were ready for our biggest challenge, answering the call to be in mission overseas. We were prepared and sent by the General Board of Global Ministries of The United Methodist Church. More specifically, we were sent forth by the Flame of Faith UMC of West Fargo, ND. We arrived in Bolivia in September 1989 on my birthday. We were to begin our adventure in La Paz at 12,000 feet above sea level. Again, we were in a strange land, but it did not feel strange at all. Very different, very ancient, very new, yes. But once again, we felt welcome and at home. We spent the next 23 years as missionaries in Bolivia. Here we raised our children, Jenny, Samuel, and Hannah.

Gordon and Ardell Graner.

We thought that we would remain in Bolivia for the rest of our missionary career. However, a surprise came our way when we were asked to move by our bosses at GBGM. In 2013 we were sent to a most unlikely new setting on an island in the Caribbean Sea, the Dominican Republic. We had not chosen this new assignment, but we came to accept it. And then we came to appreciate it. And then we began to see that God had given us a great gift, a fresh start.

Here we are in 2020. I just retired in September but continue on as a volunteer until Ardell is ready to retire also. We look forward to retirement to spend more time with our children, visit extended family and friends in the Dakotas and Minnesota, and relax and enjoy their company over fresh cups of coffee.

What advice or something you have learned throughout your ministry career that was invaluable or added to your ministry?

One of the most important things I have learned as a missionary is to respect the culture, especially the culture of the people to whom I have been sent. Respect for another’s culture requires patience, humility, study, interaction, language learning, suspending judgment, curiosity, and an understanding that it is a long-term commitment. Equally important is to understand and respect one’s own culture at the same time. To remain ignorant of our respective cultures will lead to misunderstanding, judgment, frustration, anger, and eventually may break the cross-cultural relationship that we are trying so hard to establish.

For example, the value of time is a cultural quality that can easily be misunderstood. As Americans, we tend to treat time as a limited resource that must not be wasted. Efficiency and productivity depend on a disciplined use of time. Go-Go-Go.

In our work with Bolivians and Dominicans, we have continued to try to understand their conception of time. They try to teach us that time is abundant, to relax, not to worry. They often say to us, “tranquilo,” be at peace.
 

Gordon, center, helps assembly a solar oven.

In Bolivia, we lived near the Andes Mountains, some of the highest in the world. According to geologists, the Andes are 50 million years old and still growing. These beautiful mountains continue to develop and change in their own way and in their own time.

Maybe they can teach us something about God and time. Who is right? Maybe it is not one or the other but both. How does that work? Well, we learn how to dance.

There are probably several memories that you have in your heart, what are a few memories that stand out or that shaped your ministry?

One morning we were doing a construction project at Thiu Rancho in rural Bolivia. My thumb ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time and got smashed. I drove to a hospital in Cochabamba to get it stitched up. Afterward I returned to the jeep and just sat inside for a while to let my head clear. As I sat there, I watched a young Quechua mother bathe her infant child. The mother had a clear plastic bag half filled with water. 

She opened the bag and maneuvered her baby into the bag of water and began to bathe her. The mother held the baby and the bag with one hand and with the other hand gently washed her with handfuls of water. The mother had no soap, no shampoo, no basinet, no towel, and no privacy. What a precious act of humility.

We are living through tension and uncertainty of the COVID pandemic, a call to end racism, and the potential split of the denomination, what are your hopes and prayers during this season?

The COVID pandemic, racism in the United States, the UMC headed for divorce, and I would add a nation deeply divided sounds like the makings of a perfect storm. Death and destruction are already upon us. What will become of us? Will we survive this mess? Or will we be transformed by a kind of death and rebirth?

The bandages have been ripped off and we have discovered that the wound is badly infected. The hope that I have is that the wound may become our crucible. Facing the truth rather than covering it up is a crucial first step. I hope we can resolve the issues that divide us.

Foremost, I hope we can face our original sin of racism, repent, and begin to repair the damages. But the animosity and hatred on both sides of our many divisive issues indicates minds that are fixed, unchangeable. So, my hope goes back to Jesus’ profound words, “you must be born again.” The Kingdom of God is radically different from the kingdom of this world. “Unless you change and become like children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” That is my prayer for our country, our church, and our common family.