If you've been in any major airport in the last few years, you've seen them. If you're a youth worker, there's a good chance you've been one of them.

Clad in matching T-shirts, clutching passports and backpacks, this pale, ragtag army goes forth from the United States to locations all over the globe, but especially in the Caribbean and Latin America—the nearby (and pleasantly tropical) nations that receive the bulk of the 1.5 million Americans who go on international "short-term missions" annually. They are often on their first trip overseas. They've written letters, washed cars and worked overtime to raise the money to go. Their home church has prayed for them. Their family members have fussed over their sunscreen and medications. They sincerely are hoping to make a difference for Jesus in the world.

Not all short-term mission teams are comprised of students; this is a phenomenon that cuts across generations. However, for many youth workers, fielding a short-term mission team has become part of the job description, not to mention making sure your church's short-term mission offerings don't fall too far behind the exotic destinations offered by the church down the road.

In 2006, I started to pay close attention to the burgeoning phenomenon of short-term mission trips. I spent that year interviewing leaders of Christian churches around the world—almost exclusively from outside the West. In nearly every interview, without prompting, I would be asked, "What exactly do you Americans think you are doing on these short-term mission trips?"

I would stutter, and (in good journalist fashion) throw the question back to them. "Well, what do you think of them?" Then I would get an earful: stories of Americans who came to their country with a strange mixture of ignorance and arrogance; questions about T-shirt slogans, such as ‘Bringing Jesus to Honduras' (a T-shirt that prompted a Honduran leader to ask, "Do Americans think Jesus isn't in Honduras until they get here?"); and lots of bemused stories of the relentless American desire to paint something, whether it needs painting or not—and whether the visiting Americans have painting skills.

Perhaps the most pointed observation came from Nairobi pastor Oscar Muriu. "You know," he told me in an interview for Leadership Journal, "after you leave, we repaint the walls that you have painted."

He was smiling, but he was serious. Strangely, after all those conversations, I've come to the conclusion that although short-term mission trips clearly are not the thing we Americans do best, they could be one of the best things we do.

The Best We Can Do

While "short-term" is true enough, "mission" is really not the best word for these journeys. For one thing, "short-term missions" is an oxymoron roughly akin to "jumbo shrimp."

The one true mission that animates the Christian story is God's mission (sometimes called by its Latin name, missio Dei), a history-sweeping, self-emptying endeavor to reconcile creation and Creator, about which there is nothing short-term. Even our small mission efforts should reflect God's mission in depth of commitment—as Eugene Peterson described as, "a long obedience in the same direction."