I oversee missionary teams in north London who work alongside local churches to help them share the gospel with their community, especially those least likely to have heard it. We help churches reach out to asylum-seekers, refugees, and displaced people in their communities.
Many of these people come from closed countries and have never heard the gospel, but God, in his kindness, has brought them to London. We support churches in sharing the gospel and providing love and practical help to those in need.
I did my Ph.D. at the Institute of Cancer Research, where I developed molecules that could be used as probes to help us better understand how to develop new cancer treatments. During my postdoctoral research at Imperial College, I looked at how certain proteins, particularly those involved in driving cancer progression, could self-select suitable molecules as starting points for drug discovery.
I absolutely loved my work and research. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t enjoying it any more, or there weren’t opportunities; but, knowing that there were so few people with a heart to reach Muslims in my community, my heart for mission grew, and I started praying for opportunities to share the gospel with people from a Muslim background.
I thought I could use my qualifications to get a visa to live in a closed Muslim country, and be a Christian in a place where there aren’t many Christians, but I got more opportunities to share the gospel with Muslim women in London. I didn’t need to go overseas to reach the nations, because the nations were on my doorstep.
I ended up moving to south London, which has an amazing community of Somalis. Somalia is one of the most unreached nations in the world. The English proficiency of some Somalis who have moved to the UK later in life can be quite low; so I struggled to connect with people.
I decided to learn enough Somali to show a meaningful interest in the community. I took a basic Somali language course at SOAS University of London, which equipped me with enough of the language to ask basic questions and show that I cared about their culture and community. This was challenging for me, since I’m not naturally gifted in languages, but it was a good way to build relationships with Somalis in the community.
Most of the practice involved going to places where Somalis tended to be, such as Somali shops and cafés. I’d start conversations there and see who was willing to chat. From there, I might meet someone in the park and arrange to meet again. It was about building connections and relationships in day-to-day life, not about starting an event or ministry.
There are parts of the New Testament translated into Somali, which is great; but there are many dialects within the Somali language; so not everyone can read the same texts.
I started learning the Somali language around ten years ago, and recently I started a Master’s in African Theology and Missiology. The centre of gravity of the Church is now in the global South, especially in Africa, where there are more Christians than anywhere else. Understanding theology and missiology from that context is crucial. My role involves understanding the perspectives of Christians from all over the world who have made London their home. It’s essential to learn from African Christians and their history’s impact on our faith. Understanding mission from their perspective helps in fostering real unity in the Church.
The most helpful approach is cultivating a posture of hospitality and curiosity to people of different cultures and beliefs. Hospitality isn’t just about opening my home, but inviting people into my life and sharing myself with them. This openness invites mutual sharing, and allows me to share my faith naturally. Curiosity involves asking good questions to understand someone’s hopes, fears, and what drives them at a deeper level. That then welcomes meaningful connections and openness.
One example is a lady who is an asylum-seeker whom I met last year. By being open to her and her family, and sharing significant moments like Christmas, despite now not seeing each other often, we have a unique bond. She’s come to know Jesus, and having a community that loves and supports her has been crucial as she leaves behind her former religious identity.
Becoming a Christian is not about forsaking your cultural make-up, only asking: What is it about your religion that is counter to the Kingdom of God? What is it like for Jesus to inhabit your culture? You need the love and care of a community while you work out what it looks like to follow Jesus in your culture.
We don’t necessarily recognise the importance of communal bonds, and what it looks like to live in community. Our highest value is to be independent and self-sufficient. Christians might offer you two hours on Sunday and perhaps a quick coffee midweek. That’s so counter to the way that most people live — how they share time, home, everything. Christians may not “get” you or love you in the way you expect to be loved.
Hospitality isn’t just inviting people for a meal, but opening up to people when it’s not convenient, doing everyday things together — going to the dentist, shopping, housework — these are important. I’m very individualistic by nature, but I’ve seen the way this change makes people feel loved. It’s about mutual reciprocity in sharing our faith and lives.
I grew up in a family that didn’t know God. We never went to church. By the time I was at university, I was very much an atheist, and very angry at the world, because of a difficult childhood. In my anger, I set out to convert my Christian housemate to atheism. I couldn’t comprehend the existence of a divine being that could allow suffering as I’d experienced it. Every day, I talked to him about why he believed what he believed. Eventually, he invited me to look at the Bible with him and go on a Christianity Explored course. I agreed, and it was on that course that I came to know Jesus.
It was initially very difficult to understand what it looked like to follow Jesus and allow him to change me. Being vulnerable in a church community and submitting all my life under his rule was challenging. But the most profound, formative thing was experiencing genuine love and care from the church community, which I hadn’t experienced, growing up.
I struggle with anger, particularly when I see vulnerable people being subjected to an abuse of power. It’s often the most marginalised or vulnerable in our community who suffer the most in these contexts.
What makes me happiest is deep connection with others, where I’m fully known and fully loved, and I can fully know and love them.
Jesus gives me hope for the future. We live in a polarised and often unsafe period, but knowing that Jesus blesses us today, and that we have a home with him beyond this world, is incredibly hopeful. Seeing tangible signs of him calling people into his Kingdom today also gives me hope.
I most often pray for God’s wisdom. Being a Christian in this world and overcoming the complexities of cross-cultural mission requires complete dependence on him. I regularly ask for wisdom because I know it doesn’t exist within me: I need his help in everything I do. I also pray to see broken lives healed, and for others to experience the hope and healing I have through Jesus. Given the unique opportunity to reach the nations in London, I pray for the Church here to seize this opportunity to make a global impact.
I’d choose to spend a few hours locked in a church with persecuted brothers and sisters around the world. Hearing their stories and learning from their faith, which they put into action in moments of great suffering, is incredibly shaping and encouraging.
Dr Mayhew was talking to Terence Handley MacMath.
lcm.org.uk