Were They Right About Italy?
Fifteen years ago, before I arrived in Italy as a missionary, some of the most experienced evangelical leaders I knew gave me some unusual advice.
Not exactly what I expected to hear.
They told me:
- We don’t need any more American churches here in Italy.
- Don’t expect Italians to see you as a credible voice until you’ve lived here at least ten years.
- Church planting is unusually difficult in Italy.
- There are very few evangelicals, and they are deeply divided.
- Don’t bring a strategy. Nothing works here—everything works here.
Fifteen years later, I wanted to go back and ask a simple question:
What did they see that I couldn’t see yet—and what has changed since they gave me that advice?
That became the focus of this latest episode of the Mission Sicily Podcast.
- Don’t Bring America to Italy
The first piece of advice has probably stayed with me more than any other: Italy doesn’t need another American church.
In the 1980s, 90s, and early 2000s, I had watched American missionaries import American church models and ministry paradigms into Italy. Many were doing good work, but too often the model was imported wholesale rather than developed from within the Italian context.
Some of those duplicated models eventually collapsed when the American missionary returned home. Others struggled to develop indigenous leadership.
I saw firsthand how much distrust that could create among Italian and Sicilian pastors. When I first arrived, Gino wouldn’t even talk to me—not because of anything I had done, but because of the experiences he and others had already had with Americans who came in believing they knew how things should be done.
Fifteen years later, I still believe the heart of that advice is right.
But I would phrase it differently today:
Don’t bring America to Italy. Do bring Americans though!
Italy doesn’t need prefabbed American churches. It needs believers who are willing to listen, learn, come alongside local leaders, and help cultivate expressions of the gospel that are genuinely rooted in their communities.
And that requires contextualization—not simply duplication.
- The Long Road to Credibility
The second piece of advice was that it would take about ten years before Italians would really listen to me as a credible or authoritative voice.
At first, that sounded almost excessive.
Then I lived here.
Sicilians can be incredibly hospitable when you’re visiting. But moving in next door is another matter. There can be a natural caution toward foreigners, and people want to know who you are, why you’re here, and whether you’re actually going to stay.
For years, people watched.
Eventually, they realized we weren’t simply passing through. We had learned the language, developed relationships, partnered with local churches, and demonstrated a genuine love for the people and culture.
That changed things.
Today, technology means you can have a public voice almost immediately. Platforms are a dime a dozen. Everyone’s an influencer. But having a verified voice (with something to say) isn’t the same thing as having credibility. Being a herald of the gospel requires authenticity.
This piece of advice taught me to take the long view.
Build relationships. Let rapport become the platform. Let trust determine the pace. Don’t arrive on day one and start pushing doctrine, perspective, or agenda onto others.
That’s still good missionary advice.
- Church Planting Is Hard—Because Italy Isn’t One Mission Field
The third warning was that church planting and disciple-making are particularly difficult in Italy.
I would say that’s still true.
But I’ve also learned that talking about “the Italian mission field” can be misleading.
Italy is a multiplicity of mission fields.
Even here in Belpasso, a town of roughly 28,000 people, different neighborhoods have distinct histories, demographics, and even recognizable ways of speaking. What might work in one neighborhood may not work in another.
We also encountered another challenge very early: literacy.
Some of the people we wanted to reach struggled to read the Bible for themselves. That led us to develop an audio-based approach to Scripture, eventually producing an Italian podcast that could help people engage God’s Word by listening rather than reading.
Years later, that podcast is still going, now in the hands of younger leaders in our church.
There are also important differences between northern and southern Italy. Some of the old stereotypes don’t hold as neatly as they once did, but regional and local differences still matter.
The lesson for me has become:
Don’t develop an “Italian strategy.” Learn the people in front of you.
- Few Evangelicals—and Far Divided?
The fourth piece of advice was blunt: there were very few evangelicals, and those evangelicals were deeply divided.
Fifteen years later, I’d say yes—and no.
The evangelical world in Italy is still small. But because it’s small, it is also remarkably interconnected. People from churches in the north may know people from churches in Sicily. Leaders who seem geographically distant can turn out to share the same networks and relationships.
And something else appears to be changing.
Technology has helped bridge some of the old divides. Some of the territorial mentality among leaders seems to be waning, and there is increasing willingness to recognize that churches don’t have to be identical theologically to share a common mission.
That’s something I find encouraging.
One of the most beautiful examples I’ve seen around Catania is Mission Agape, where pastors have united to serve humanitarian needs among both Italians and immigrants.
Sometimes mission is a stronger basis for partnership than our theological distinctives are for separation.
That’s a hopeful development.
- Nothing Works Here—and Everything Works Here
Finally, there was perhaps the strangest—and wisest—piece of advice:
Nothing works here, and everything works here. What they meant was: don’t arrive with a template in hand.
Don’t assume that something that worked in America will automatically work in Italy.
But don’t assume something won’t work simply because it failed somewhere else.
Try. Listen. Adapt. Pay attention. Be led by the Holy Spirit.
In a town as small as ours, one approach might work in one neighborhood and fail completely in another.
So after fifteen years, I don’t think the problem is that strategies don’t work.
The problem is that strategies often don’t take context into account.
People are different. Communities are different. Neighborhoods are different. And the gospel needs to be communicated and lived out in ways people can actually understand and own.
Conclusion: Fifteen Years Later
Looking back, I’m deeply grateful for the people who gave me this advice.
Not every piece of it remains exactly as it was in 2011. Italy has changed. Technology has changed. The evangelical landscape has changed. Our own ministry has changed.
But much of the wisdom remains.
The greatest lesson may be that the mission isn’t about importing a successful model. It’s about learning to love people well enough to serve them in their actual context.
Fifteen years ago, I was being told to slow down, listen, learn, and resist the temptation to assume I already knew the answers. Fifteen years later, I’m grateful I listened.
I’m still learning that lesson.
And I’m still convinced there is tremendous opportunity here.
Our desire remains simple: make disciples, plant churches, build bridges, and raise up the next generation of Italian leaders who have a passion for Jesus and a heart for their homeland.
That’s what we’re excited about in this next season of the Mission Sicily Podcast—and I’m looking forward to taking you deeper into The Real Italy in the episodes ahead.
Thanks for coming along with us as we follow Jesus at the crossroads of culture, Sicily.
Ciao for now,
Brian
Disciples * Churches * Bridges 