My Final Journal Entry

An ancient fable relates the tale of a group of blind men upon their first encounter with an elephant. Having heard of an elephant before but not knowing anything about them, these men are given the opportunity to feel the creature in order to know what it is. In this story (which has been told by countless people groups on multiple continents for over a thousand years) a string of 3 to 6 blind men each approach the elephant one at a time, grabbing different parts of the animal.

One, having felt the side of the animal, claims with certainty that an elephant is some form of wall. Another adamantly disagrees with him claiming the elephant is some kind of tree, having wrapped his arms around the animal's leg. A third chimes in stating that it must be some form of farming equipment, like a plow. He, of course, had felt the tusk. Yet another still claims they are all fools stating this is nothing more than a kind of snake, all the while wrestling with the elephants trunk.

Term in Review: 5 biggest lessons learned

I needed this post.

I had a lot of fun choosing my 5 most entertaining posts for last week's Term in Review, but I needed to work through this week's post. It was medicine for my soul.

Recently, I mentioned my lack of excitement about returning to the States, and as that time has quickly approached, I have found myself running a gamut of emotions. Sometimes it is the dread of returning to the world from which I came and being disappointed with what I find. At other moments it is hurt at leaving a life created here, saying goodbye to friends and people who have now become family.

But sifting through this next portion of my Term in Review, I finally found a little perspective.

Made to worship

People really like quoting John Piper. I am surprised there is not a Facebook game based around the concept. It could be called Piperville.

One quote that gets tossed around a lot in my circles (that is right, even I have circles) is the following, “Missions exists because worship does not.”

Chew on meaty statements like that too long and you may get heartburn. However, if you really think about it, the man makes a good point. Avoid applying Occam’s Razor and splitting theological hairs and listen for the heartbeat of Piper’s statement. The reason we have the great commission in the first place is because humanity is not fulfilling its primary purpose. We have to reach people because people need to be reached. Man’s ultimate end is to testify to the glory of God by worship, obedience and praise. Missions exists because mankind must be brought back to its right purpose. Man’s purpose is worship.

I was reminded of this last Saturday.

The right place at the wrong time

Have you ever noticed how much literary real estate is given to David in the Old Testament? Chapter after chapter sing the praises of this man. He is the obvious main character of both Samuels. His family details are splayed out all over the place like some kind of Semitic soap opera.

For the last couple of weeks, I have been reading through the section of the Old Testament that tells David’s story. In the beginning, it seemed like he could do no wrong. He starts off as a little kid destined to do big things. He kills a lion, and then he kills a giant. He fights battles for the king, and he cannot lose. “Saul has struck down his thousands, and David his ten thousands,” sang the people.

Saul gets jealous and chases David all over the countryside, but he cannot kill him. Saul dies, and David becomes king. He continues to fight and he continues to win. David beats armies he has no business beating, like Syria. He was unstoppable. And after all this, God tells David he will establish a dynasty that will reign for eternity. Through his lineage would come the king of all kings, whose rule would never end. Talk about a pretty sweet life.

But then I got to today’s passage.

On storytelling

“There once was a man named Jacob…”

Those were the first words out of his mouth. Abe, a local pastor from the capital city, had come down to help with a volunteer team, and now, he was telling a story to a crowd of children.

Abe and I had driven up to make plans for a baptism that would be happening later that week. The tiny hut where this small group of believers meets is no more than 20 feet in diameter. The walls are open all the way around and it has a grass roof. There are no chairs or benches in this little meeting place, because the believers hold their studies and prayer on mats on the floor.

Children had slowly trickled in until the crowd spilled out and surrounded the hut. A crowd of kids sat inside, while an even larger group stood around the rim, their little heads bobbing over the walls trying to see and hear all that was happening. Eventually an adult spectator chided the children for crowding in and getting in the way. What happened next was priceless.

Is the battle finally over?

My generation’s children will study this day, and so will their children to follow.

Tucked away somewhere beside the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Vietnam War and the 2001 attack on New York, the death of Osama Bin Laden will make the history books. Perhaps that chapter in the book will be titled, “The fall of modern terrorism,” or perhaps not.

But today, streets are lined with celebrators, and the red, white and blue hangs proudly, punctuating the revelry. Thousands have supposedly gathered at Ground Zero to put a nail in the coffin of their suffering. People across America, across the world really, are cheering out, praising Justice for the blow it has delivered against Evil. Many Muslim countries and leagues have lauded the efforts of America in bringing down Bin Laden, and Saudi Arabia refused to repatriate his body. They had to bury him at sea, apparently because no one wanted him on their soil.

It is already being hailed as the end of an age. Alongside the recent rioting and political upsets occurring across the Middle East, people are saying there is a new age rising, an age that sees a brighter future for global relations. US-friendly democratic states in the Middle East may develop and now we have seen the death of the most wanted man in the world. Is the battle finally over?

Cow training - Part 2

If you are perhaps thinking, “Wait, didn’t he give us the Aha moment from the cow training thing like two days ago?” then you feel the same way I did.

This lesson was a double whammy. Right when I thought this little visual demonstration had provided the extent of its enlightenment, I was blindsided with one more unexpected sucker punch of awesomeness.

This is how it went down:

Cow training - Part 1

I like Aha moments.

Aha moments are those little points in time when the proverbial light bulb goes off and some previously known factoid gains new, deeper meaning. What first existed merely as meaningless trivia sprouts and grows into a three dimensional reality. Needless to say, my two years in Africa have presented me with more than a couple of Aha moments. * Life is lived in such a way here that many points of contact still exist with the biblical culture.

I had one such incident this week.

The message of the cross - Part 2

Before you even attempt to read this post, I would suggest you read Part 1. 

Desensitized.

It is a word that gets tossed around a lot in western culture now. We talk about being desensitized to violence or sex in movies. We talk about how children in our society see so much filth they do not really grasp that what they see on television is, in fact, fake. In a country where it was once wrong for Lucy and Ricky to be in the same bed on television, it has now become the norm to hear about sex scandals from members of the Mickey Mouse Club (with plenty of internet pictures and video to accompany). Even video games can acquire a “mature” rating. Skin is everywhere and most of us have seen so many people get shot on television we could fill a stadium with the “dead bodies.” 

Is it true? Can people see or hear something so much that it loses its significance?

I found the answer to that question last week.

The message of the cross - Part 1

We were running late, and I was mad.

However, the object of my frustration was none other than myself. We had a couple of errands to run before we left for the village, and I had, yet again, grossly underestimated the amount of time it takes to get even little tasks done in Africa. So, I found myself wanting to swear as I tied pieces of lumber to the top of our truck.

On endurance

The New Testament writers would have been college football fans. Now, I cannot be certain of this, but I believe my theory holds water. Take into account their writing. Letter after letter is filled with references to teamwork, athleticism, and putting on your armor for battle. It just makes sense. Imagine, Peter and Paul arguing about the BCS over a bowl a cheese dip.

Off Topic: Spiritual Surfing

Why is church camp always at the beach?

When I was a kid, every time I would head off to some church camp for the summer, I was stuck off in the middle of the woods. It was usually some camp with a goofy, fake Indian name like Camp Wannahockaloogi, or something to that effect. An hour or more from civilization, we were forced to sleep in little wooden cabins, barrack style, and swat mosquitos all night. The closest we would get to a “beachfront” was that roped off area of the lake that was less green than the rest of it. Instead of going home with a tan, all we had to show for the week was a series of welts from the nightly towel fights. I usually lost those fights.

But nowadays, it seems more and more church camps are at the beach. Instead of packing insect repellent and hiking boots, kids throw their sunscreen and swimming trunks in a suitcase and head off for “Christians Ablaze,” “Spiritual Explosion,” or one of those other Christian events with a pyro-maniacal name. The church charter bus fills up with excited kids ready for a week or two of sun and sand. When it reaches its destination, it is usually some beachfront hotel where the kids will hear flashy speakers and great bands.

When this shift from the wilderness to the shore occurred, I was initially puzzled. Why would we move students from isolation to the middle of vacation central? Why would we take students away from blue jeans and briar thickets and move them to bikinis and beach volleyball? We decided to take our spiritual retreats to the same place MTV holds it spring break specials. What gives?

But then it hit me. 

The Lone Ranger syndrome

Like most days, it was hot and the sun was beating down. Our little group was huddled in the shade provided by a small patch of shrubs, waiting for the event.

A small string of participants waded off into the water, signifying the death of an old life and resurrection into a new one. One after the other, they were buried, and raised to walk in a new life.

We watched victory that day.

It was victory over sin. It was victory over death and hell. It was a victory purchased not by the might of those in the water, but by the gift they had accepted. But for all of my joy that day, there was a lingering fear in my mind. “At least there is a group of them,” I thought to myself.

They emerged out of the water to smiles and hugs, but what then? They would return home, to their own village and families, to a world that hates what they did. But as a group, they could survive. As a group, they could support each other in their suffering. Where one believer would get cut down, this handful could stand firm despite persecution. They could be unified, one body.

They could be a church.

Would you like fries with that friendship?

People ask me all the time what things I miss from the States, expecting it to be a steak or some real fancy meal. Quite to the contrary, I have discovered people miss the things they did and used the most. It is the things that were a part of my life everyday that seem to have left a hole.

So I really miss fast food.

Would Jesus wear Chacos?

If you ask any number of youth ministers, trying to prove to their kids that you can still be cool and live a Godly life, the answer would be, “Of course he would, along with his North Face jacket and one of those cool KAVU visors.” However, Joel Olsteen would probably disagree and say that Jesus would definitely be sporting a snazzy hair cut and a million dollar smile.

Learning to learn

Have you ever noticed the similarities between a lower case “r” and “s”? Or for that matter, have you considered the fact that an “h” is really just an “n” with a tall back?

Yeah, neither had I, until a couple of weeks ago.

Addressing the state of our union

Ever since I can remember being old enough to have the slightest interest in government and politics, the State of the Union address has been one of those moments in the national timeline I felt obligated to watch. It is like election night or the inauguration of a new president; good Americans are just supposed to watch it.

Tradition outlines that every year in January, the President has his opportunity to update the Congress on the state of our union. Since the advent of broadcasting, this means he is also updating all Americans, as well as the world.

Off Topic: Christians say the darndest things.

Words can be contagious. Few things seem to harbor the power of transmittal as words, and with them ideals. Take for instance the words "change" and "hope". When wielded in a certain way, they have the power to win a presidency.

I experienced a similar situation here in the last couple of months, howbeit not quite as consequential as the previous example.

I live in a culture which places high value on greetings. People will go out of their way to greet you if they see you, simply because this is the appropriate way to respect a relationship. Furthermore, my work has me spending time with students who are roughly high school age.

Imagine my surprise when one of my students walked up to me, and instead of initiating the customary ritual of greeting, stuck out his arm indicating that he wanted a fist bump. Then, upon bumping said fist, he clamors out the words, "big ups."

At first, due to his heavy Franco-African accent, I thought he was trying to say "hiccups," but upon him repeating it several times and me taking guesses I made the discovery that he was indeed saying "big ups." Within a mere period of days, it seemed every student in town had replaced their normal greetings with the "big ups." It spread like a disease. My astonishment was complete when one of the little six-year-old girls with our organization walked up to me one day and demanded the “big ups.” Where in the world did she pick it up?! Even she had been infected.

For those of you who may not be familiar with the “big ups” terminology. Its definition, as listed on Urban Dictionary (a site I will not be linking to from this blog), is as follows:

1. lots of props, sent through a messenger, such as the radio or a friend 
2. massive props to someone you respek (I did not misspell that.) 
3. (n.) a phrase used when dealing on the street to give props or show much respect to someone/something 

Now, you may wonder how kids in the middle of absolute nowhere, in a land without reliable electricity or running water, would pick up on street lingo from the States. The answer lies in the power of words themselves. Words convey ideals, and with the term “big ups” comes a truckload of American culture. One song by Akon (a West African himself), with lyrics of wealth and fame, and the youth here realize that is the ideal to which they want to aspire. People who have nothing think Americans have everything, and the youth here imitate every ounce of our culture they can.

But is that not true of humanity in general? A need for acceptance, a desire to make ourselves look as though we belong in a certain group of people, causes us to say and do some of the strangest things.

Christians are no exception.

You know you have done it, and so have I. We say the darndest things to convince others we are indeed the kind of person we are “supposed to be.” As we settle into the Christian subculture, we get cozy and begin to aspire for an elevated position in this social circle. Soon, the desire is to ooh and ahh those other members of said circle with our obvious spirituality. Before you get mad at me for posting this, let me be the first to admit, I have committed at least five of these, and my hope is that you will laugh at yourself (or at least me).

Following is a list of those things we often catch ourselves saying in order to prove our spirituality to the Christian in-crowd:

Quoting a minor prophet 

(especially when it has no bearing on the conversation)

What better way to show one is definitely on God's speed dial than quoting the Bible? But for those who really want the most bang for their buck, quote a minor prophet. Everyone knows John 3:16, but who can recall the words of the prophet Haggai? An added advantage comes with everyone's lack of knowledge when it comes to the minor prophets, so one can stick these little nuggets into many conversations where they admittedly do not belong. The prophets were preachers of old, and their words often sound cryptic and extra spiritual when used to season conversation. Common uses of this are seen during group Bible study, or more subtly in the middle of a vocal prayer. “As your Word tells us in Nahum 3:5,” makes a convenient prayer insert. A word of caution: Read the passage (and maybe even understand it) prior to tossing it into the mix. 

Christian name dropping  

This one is big enough it deserves its own post! It is increasingly common to hear people drop the name of a Christian pop writer casually in conversation. The phrase often begins with something like, “You know, Donald Miller says it best when,” or “I think Mark Driscoll would agree.” In using these little jewels, one simultaneously shows an extensive understanding of “the Christian conversation” (as so many now call it) and enlists a famous Christian mind on his or her side of a discussion. Good show! 

However, one must be careful with this tactic. Within the Christian subculture are still further Christians subsets. Assuredly, it is never good to mix subsets. For instance, name dropping Jon Piper in a circle of Paige Patterson sympathizers will result in a point deduction. Past this reality, one must consider whether it is appropriate to pull a name from the realm of theologians, Christian-living authors, or the new up-and-coming pastor podcasters/ bloggers. Remember, context is everything with this one. Be aware of your surroundings.

Pick-a-Psalm 

It was the hymnbook of ancient Israel, and aside from the command of God to have “Holy, Holy, Holy” as the first song in every hymnbook after the crucifixion, it functions in much the same way as our own hymnals today. Its purpose is to bring the reader(s) into worship, and more importantly, to provide God with the honor and praise he deserves. Filled with deep, thoughtful words that cry out to God in both joy and pain, the Psalter is indeed inspired worship. 

However, a common purpose nowadays is to demonstrate the exceeding spirituality of some. Envision a group worship time, not the Sunday morning service, but something more personal, where all are invited to participate in vocal prayer, reading of scripture, and song. There is a momentary silence and just enough time to flip to the Psalms (conveniently located right in the middle of the Bible) and employ the pick-a-psalm tactic. There are psalms for every occasion in scripture. Furthermore, when properly executed, this can make it seem as though the person was coincidentally reminded of these words of worship as though he or she cuddles up nightly with the Psalter and cup of tea. It is virtually a fail-safe way to rack up points; however, for this approach to work, it must be used in bulk. Simply calling everyone's attention to a particular psalm once during a group worship will not do. One must become marked by this tendency. Happy hunting. 

Prayer-bragging 

This tactic is best employed in group settings. Often times, it is appropriately used during Sunday school or “small group.” Proper execution seizes the moment when a call for prayer requests has been made and uses it as an opportunity to soapbox some extra-spiritual event that has recently taken place (or will take place) in one's life. However, like Jeopardy, this one must take the form of a question. “Please pray that I have boldness as I single-handedly scour the streets in our slums for victims of poverty in order to invite their kids to VBS next week,” is a case example. 

Conversationjacking

I am not sure if this is a tactic or a spiritual gift, but certain individuals appear to have the ability while others do not. Similar to the strategy listed above, the practitioner of this tactic tends to commandeer every conversation, no matter the subject, and morph it into a discussion of his or her exploits in short term missions. “You know, speaking of your toilet getting stopped up, I am reminded of an experience I recently had in the jungles of the Amazon,” may be how this one begins. 

While also most effective in a group setting, this approach is markedly more casual and occurs during conversation; therefore, it is more flexible in usage and can gain the user points in a non-church setting. Prime times for this occur often, such as that vacuum period between Sunday school and the Worship service. The skilled can also use this tactic in a one-on-one conversation, and the truly brazen can insert it into group Bible study as an answer to a question. Admittedly, this last use is precarious, but if done successfully, it leaves all in earshot feeling as though they have learned spiritual truths from the sagely wisdom provided by the short term missions superstar. 

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By all means when God teaches you a lesson, shows you a deep truth in his Word or lays a need on your heart, share it! Let others know, but check your motives. Let us all make sure our purpose is to edify others in the process, and not to make ourselves shine. May God get the glory from our words and not ourselves.

The best-laid plans...

“The best-laid plans of mice and men, often go awry...”

The phrase is an adaptation of a line from a poem by Robert Burns entitled, To a Mouse. It is an age-old adage, and it is quite true. No matter how hard we try, no matter how careful we plan, things do not always turn out the way we expect them to.

Several months ago, some colleagues and I were traveling to a bordering country to join fellow laborers for a celebration of their ministry. On our way back through a particular town along the border, we decided to stop and pay a visit to an old friend of my colleagues. This friend was a long-time believer and had grown up in the town where we all reside, but she had moved to that country after marrying. Her husband was not a believer, but she had remained in the faith. (Remember marriage works very different in the culture here.)

Our desire was to pay a quick and quiet visit simply for the purpose of greeting and encouragement. However, having no clue where she lived, we began asking around in the town market for anyone who knew this lady. What started as a nice idea to drop in and pay a visit began to gather quite a crowd of on-lookers. You could imagine a carload full of white people pulling up in the middle of the market and trying to find someone caused considerable speculation. It was obvious that some were simply reluctant to let us know where this lady was because they did not know why we wanted to see her. Others were running around trying to find her. Our little plan began to boil over into a fiasco. Eventually, someone from the market had found our friend and we were able to pay our visit, but only after causing a tremendous scene. Needless to say, everyone in town now knew that our friend was in cahoots with the white Christians.

It was not until this past week that we learned the true outcome of all our commotion.

Last week, this friend stopped by our house for a visit. She was staying with family here in town. During her stay she informed us of all the happenings in her life since that last visit. True to speculation, we had called quite a bit of attention to ourselves and in the process our friend. It seems everyone in town wanted to know why the white folk wanted to see her.

So, she told them.

She explained how she knew these white people, and why the white people were here. She told of Jesus and the message of the gospel. She expressed her faith to many people through the process. God gave her a platform in our messed up plans. Further still, she told us of her husband's recent interest in her faith due to our visit. He is now studying and fellowshipping with other believers in their town. He has been attending their church. Please pray for his salvation.

I am reminded of a story from God's Word. It is one most of us learned in Sunday school. (And if you are as old as I am, you probably saw the story play out on flannelgraph.)

Joseph had a bunch of brothers, and he did a pretty good job of making them hate him. Now for certain, I do not know the spirit in which Joseph shared his dreams with his brothers. He may have intended no haughtiness whatsoever, but whatever the case, he managed to offend. His offense was so severe they sought to kill him, and they got pretty close. In a moment of pity, they chose to throw him down a well instead.

From that point forward, Joseph was sold into slavery, sent to Egypt, accused of attempted rape and adultery and thrown in jail for years. My assumption is that none of this was on his ten year plan. Joseph, who, according to his dreams, had plans of success, wound up in quite a few unforeseen circumstances. Yet, in the end God's purpose was met, and Israel was saved under Joseph's leadership. (It is a good story, you should read it sometime: Genesis 37-47)

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry...”

As I write this, I write as one whose plans have gone awry. I was supposed to be traveling today. A team of volunteers from my home church was scheduled to arrive for work here. My plans were to once again cross the border into our neighboring country and pick them up for work, but their flights were cancelled. In speaking to members of the team about the mishap, it was blamed on “fog and incompetence.” Thank you Memphis International Airport.

Months of planning and preparation have gone into this work, and it seems as though it may all be for naught. More importantly, the work of discipleship and evangelism that was going to take place seems jeopardized.

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry...”

Thankfully, we serve neither mouse nor man.

We serve the one who brings order to the cosmos and the one who spoke it into existence. He is over all and in control of all, and his mighty acts will always go according to plan. Nothing can thwart the purposes of God. All of history has been written by his hand, and it has all gone according to plan. There have been no accidental slip-ups. There was never a surprise to catch him off guard. There is no plan B, because he needs no contingency. Furthermore, it will continue to move forward as God has planned since before the beginning of time, and it will end just as he has already told us, with a multitude from every tribe, tongue and nation surrounding the throne of glory singing praises to the Lamb of God.

Our plans often go awry, but rest in the fact that God's plans do not. And, as always, Father knows best.

On gift-giving - Part 2

It started while I was thinking of gift ideas for my friends here. As I mentioned in my last post, very few people here celebrate Christmas, but there is a handful of people for which I am shopping.

Several of them are locals, and let me tell you something. If you think shopping for that cousin you barely know is a challenge, wait until you try to shop for someone from a completely different culture. Wandering the mud-caked aisles of the African market and looking for Christmas gifts is truly a unique experience.

I began by trying to compile a list of substitutes for things I would purchase as gifts in the States. It looked something like this:

Christmas sweater – African cloth

household appliances – plastic bucket

Whitman's Sampler – can of sardines

washing machine – plastic bucket

Christmas card – cellphone recharge card

kitchen utensils – plastic bucket

Needless to say, my options are limited.

In the midst of my mad dash to find some way of showing people that I care, I was given a very tangible reminder. It came in the way of an old man from a little village out in the bush. We will call him Marvin. (If for no other reason, because you will not be able to pronounce his name.)

Marvin is a tiny little man who comes just up to my shoulders. He looks to be as old as the dirt under his feet and has a face that resembles a catcher's mitt. His skin is dark, leathery and full of wrinkles. Despite his lack of teeth in key places, he has an unending smile. But it is not just any smile, it is the contagious kind. Rarely can someone be around him without coming down with a case of laughter or, at minimum, a lightened spirit.

He and my supervisor have known each other for a very long time and they have developed quite a friendship. So, it was no surprise the other day to see him sitting under our mango tree in his little boubou and fez. He comes by here periodically for no other reason than to say hello. What you may find surprising is his method of transportation. This little man rides a bicycle.

To say that his trip into town to see my supervisor is a long one would be an understatement. By four wheel drive truck, it takes me over an hour to get to his village. The dirt roads are indescribably bad, and I think Lance Armstrong would have trouble hoofing himself up and down these rocky paths. Yet, this little man will set out on his bicycle (which is a far cry from Lance's) around dawn to make the trip.

As I sat there watching Marvin and my supervisor chat away, it finally sank in. Marvin had a gift to give his friend, and it was far more valuable than a bag of oranges or a chicken.

The gift was his time.

In a culture where material things are rare, and the means to get them rarer still, it is often the intangible gifts that are given. Perhaps it is easier to see the real value of ideals like time, respect, honor, and service when your worldview is not clouded with gadgets, gizmos and stocking stuffers.

That day under that mango tree, Marvin gave an expensive gift. However, he did not pay for it in franc, he paid for it with his time.

America is a world where time is money, and often, people would rather part with a dollar than a minute. Could it be that we have replaced the real value of a gift, the sacrifice of the giver, with the convenience of buying some knick-knack?

Look back in life. My guess is the things that you hold most dear probably cannot be wrapped up in a box. It may be the love of a mother who lost sleep because you were sick or a father who sacrificed a position on the corporate ladder to spend his extra time being your ball coach.

All gifts are not created equal. A gift's true value is measured in its sacrifice.

Take the example of the gift we all celebrate during this season. No greater sacrifice has been given. Be thankful for the real “expensive” gifts and if you want to show someone you care, give them a gift that matters.