LEANING ON THE LORD

Ps. 121

Hurtling through the darkness across the subcontinent of India, I understand what it means to put oneself in God's hands. We are on the overnight train, fifteen hours from Bombay to Nagpur. I am lying on the third tier of a six-bunk compartment. It is a second-class car, and all around our open compartment over a hundred people are sleeping wherever they can. It is a 72-passenger car. The roof is 18 inches above my face, and to my side, cool air is spinning out from a ceiling fan. There is enough light for me to see the webs of black grime clinging to the wire cage around the fan. My pillow is my book bag, and my suitcase is padlocked to the bunk. How safe is this clattering old train, I wonder? I picture the engineer and realize I have no idea how well-trained he is. And I pray, "I know that my Redeemer lives. Thank you for this night, oh Lord, my strength and my Redeemer."

Six of us have flown 20 hours to begin our three week mission trip in India. We arrived in Bombay at 1:00 yesterday morning and received the news that four of our six tickets on Indian Air to Nagpur have been canceled. After 3 1/2 hours of negotiations, we accepted the fact that there was no way to rebook. It was the time of Diwali, the Indian festival of lights holiday. My 6:05 a.m. ticket had somehow survived, and it was decided that I should go on ahead. But when we gathered at 4:30 a.m. to pray in the domestic terminal, God convinced us that we should not be separated. We would get a hotel room and decide tomorrow what to do next.

After two hours of sleep, Edwina Thomas and I headed out for the 1 1/2 hour trip through the teeming, acrid streets of Bombay to Victoria Station. The only place we could procure a ticket for the train was at the terminal, where the chaos was overwhelming to foreigners. A man who looked no different than all the others in the queues offered to get us a ticket. He explained about the holidays and the quotas for tourists, and it was clear that our options were limited. We handed Mr. Vasant Shah our passports and 2400 Rupees, praying that he was a gift from God as he seemed to be. We had only his kind face to trust. He was able to book us six second-class sleeper berths together for the next night. Mr. Shah was a gift from God; and he extracted a nice commission from us.

SOMA team members on the sleeper car

The drastic change in plans had to be communicated to our host, Andrew Swamidoss, Director of the Indian missionary college in Yavatmal, where we are going to preach and teach. Andrew had himself just arrived in Nagpur after a 36-hour train ride from Madras. He was distressed to hear that we were traveling second class on the train. It was not an experience for Americans.

It was just a few hours later that we received a midnight call from the hotel lobby. Andrew had miraculously gotten on a flight to Bombay and had come to be with us. He could not let us travel alone, he said. This man is a physicist, an Anglican priest, a Ph.D. and college president, and a humble servant of God.

 

Dr. Swamidoss helps us buy locks and chains

This morning, Andrew got an unreserved ticket on the same train with us, and told us we would have to pray that the conductor would let him stay with us. God answered our prayer. There was no conductor on this train tonight.

As I lie rumbling back and forth in my top berth, listening to the clatter of the tracks and breathing the heavy smell of humanity, I roll on my side and look down. Andrew is asleep on newspapers on the floor. My heart is filled with joy and with a sense of being truly alive, and I thank God for keeping us together and for sending Andrew to us as a guardian angel.

Our mission to India is well under way, and we are in God's hands.

AND HE SENT THEM OUT TO PREACH THE KINGDOM OF GOD

Luke 9:2

Go to the top

From Michigan and North Carolina and Virginia we came, gathering at SOMA Director Edwina Thomas' home to build our team and plan our trip. We gathered in a comfortable sitting room. Terry Stanard administers two hospitals in Michigan. His wife, Marilynn, is president of a consulting business and has a PhD in education. Ken Davis was Marilynn and Terry's interim Rector, and is now retired after 40 years as a parish priest. Alice Sadler is a computer whiz who has one foot and her whole heart in full-time ministry. This is the first overseas mission trip for all of us except our leader, Edwina, a gifted artist and veteran missionary itching to get out into the field again after over a year behind the desk. In the living room, each of us had an enormous suitcase, and we had two even larger bags full of gifts and supplies. Each of us also had a carry-on suitcase.

Our group gelled quickly through intense and focused prayer. For two days we prepared meals together, talked about our expectations, studied the Bible and worshipped. The discussion was deep and knit us together in a natural, easy way. On the third morning, the day before lift-off, an extraordinary thing happened. I had gotten up early and read the daily office, and I was struck by a number of things from Luke 9:1-17, things that were synchronous with what we were going out to do and with words I had received from my intercessory prayer team. When Edwina asked if anyone had a scripture they wanted to share, I read this passage from Luke. And we were changed.

I started our discussion with the question, "What jumps out at you, what word or phrase?" We never got past verse 3, where Jesus was sending the disciples out and told them to take nothing for their journey--"no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic." As a single body, we were instantly stricken by the Word. We talked about the monstrous suitcases out in the living room, and about how we had packed against every exigency. We called a period of silent reflection for half an hour. When we reconvened, our discussion was confessional. We were feeling convicted of our materialism, our reliance on our "stuff." We were feeling burdened by the baggage of our lifestyles as we aimed ourselves for the third world. And so we agreed on a prophetic act.

We agreed to take only one piece of luggage that could be carried on the plane. The women would bring only Indian-style clothes, the salwar kameez. The men would bring only one change of clothes. And we would leave behind all the duplicate supplies each of us had packed for ourselves. We would be forced to let go in three ways. We would have to rely on one another to share common resources. We would have to rely on our hosts for help with things we needed. And we would have to rely on God to see us through. We left behind the idols on which we had placed our reliance.

Edwina told us this was the first time a SOMA team had ever done this.

Eucharist at Edwina Thomas' home

We were so exhilarated by what had happened to us and so certain that the Holy Spirit was at work in our lives that we celebrated. We built an altar out of our big suitcases that would soon be unpacked and we celebrated the Holy Eucharist. Our Gospel text: Luke 9:1-17.

Each of us had the strong sense of putting ourselves in God's hands. Even though it may have been a small step, it was a defining moment for our team. We leaned into the Holy Spirit every step of the way. And God vindicated our trust and reliance. As we worshipped together on the third morning in India, rolling across the heart of India on an unexpected train ride, we blessed our gracious Lord for the fact that our ponderous suitcases were back home in the U.S. There is a sign in the Indian trains that says, "Less baggage, more comfort."

REPORT FROM THE WINDOW

Ephesians 6:18

Millions of Christians united in a single purpose can change the world. That is the vision that led to praying through the 10-40 prayer window. Under the auspices of the AD 2000 Movement, 35 million people prayed in October 1993 and again in October 1995 for the people in the band of countries from West Africa to East Asia between 10 degrees and 40 degrees North Latitude. In this area are 97% of the people of the world who have not heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

It has been my extraordinary privilege to spend three weeks in that window, and I can report back that God is honoring those prayers mightily. I have found first-hand how God's grace works through dedicated servants filled with the gifts of the Spirit, and through the faithful believers who intercede for them in prayer.

During my time in India in October and November of 1995, I have met front-line missionaries who have astounding, wonderful stories to tell. These are Indians who are going out to people who have never heard the Gospel. They are settling in a community, learning the language (over 300 languages are spoken in India), building relationships and telling the Good News of Jesus Christ. Not only are they bearing the Gospel in proclamation, but God is performing signs and wonders through them. To speak to these missionaries is like stepping into the New Testament. There are stories of whole villages and tribes being baptized. The Friends Missionary Prayer Band, headquartered in Nagpur, India, has converted 70,000 tribal people and Hindus to Christianity. When I asked how they are able to get people to turn from their traditional gods to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, they say that people are convicted by God`s power, which is greater than the power they have previously encountered.

I have heard stories of practitioners in black magic setting up a public challenge of the Christians' God and falling down dead. I have heard and witnessed remarkable healings. A member of my team has spoken and been understood in a language she did not know. God has revealed himself to unbelievers in visions and signs. And in one village, a girl who had been dead twelve hours sat up and lived as the Christians were praying for her recovery. Soon after that, the whole village was baptized, and the little girl was the first to stand in the river and receive the living water of God.

These missionaries know they are only conduits for God's grace, gifts and power. And they are intensely solicitous of the specific prayers of people in other lands. They can feel the empowerment of the Holy Spirit in response to the prayers of intercessors. Our team's visit to Yavatmal College for Leadership Training, which trains these front-line Indian missionaries, was an answer to the prayers through the 10-40 window. We were able to encourage these Christians and to teach them a theological foundation for what they had witnessed and participated in. And we were deeply moved and strengthened in our faith by witnessing what God is doing. We do not see these things in the United States. Our eyes are clouded to the daily miracles, and God seems to reserve the dramatic power encounters for places where the Gospel has not been heard. The power of prayer has been shown to me in an unforgettable way.

THE STREETS AND ROADS OF INDIA

Ps. 34:4

On the most rural roads and the busiest streets of Bombay, you will see anything that rolls or has legs. The biggest vehicle with the loudest horn has the right of way. We saw bullock carts piled ten feet high with sticks or straw, one-eared donkeys, brahma bulls running unsupervised, public buses listing ominously on bad suspensions, motor bikes, scooters and bicycles, lorries with people sitting atop the load, and people walking everywhere--women balancing water jugs on their heads, old men leaning on walking sticks, shepherds herding goats down the main thoroughfare. We even saw an elephant in downtown Bombay. On our way from Yavatmal to Nagpur by Jeep, we were behind a lorry that could not pass a bullock cart coming the opposite way on a bridge. Two policemen happened along riding tandem on a scooter, and they ruled that the cart could pass and we would have to back up.

The auto-rickshaw is the mosquito of Indian taxis. It is a 3-wheeled vehicle powered by a motor scooter engine. There are millions of them in India, all driven by men who speak no English and have no fear. The fares are cheap. On my last night in India, I had a 25-minute ride to the airport at 25 miles per hour for 25 Rupees (75 cents), down an undivided 4-lane highway with no double lines. All lanes were fair game for either direction, and the honking of the horn is the law of the jungle.

THE TRIBAL PEOPLE

Rev. 14:6

Tribal people reside in many parts of India. We visited two villages of the Kolam and Banjara people 5 km. outside Yavatmal. We got there at sunset, just as the people were arriving back from the fields where they had been picking cotton. It was a good time to converse with them at the well, where they came to draw water for the night.

The people were quite curious about us but did not seem to resent our presence. They knew Rev. Gaikwad, our host. These villages are very tight, with one hut flowing into another on narrow paths and courtyards. The walls are mud, and the roofs are either thatched or tiled, depending on the owner's prosperity. The cattle, goats and dogs move at will among the homes and people. A typical hut has one room and a kitchen and a dirt floor. They cook over a fire on the floor.

Older Banjara women wear dresses that are similar to gypsy dress, and at their ears are large, elaborate silver ornaments that attach around their head underneath the shawl. The children were delighted by our visit. The smallest children were naked, and older children wore dresses, pants and shirts. The old men wore turbans and lungis (a sarong-like wrap), and stood at the back of the crowd looking somewhat suspicious.

In the Kolami village, the spokesperson was an attractive 18-year old girl wearing the modern Indian dress, a salwar kameez. All the other women wore sarees. This young woman is a senior in high school and is the first member of her village to be educated. We were told that the town has to come up with 50 Rupees a week for her to ride a bus into Yavatmal to school. That is about $1.50, but is a lot of money in rural India.

Women at the well in a Kolami village

In the middle of the Kolami village, near the well, was a pointed rock planted in the ground and painted red. It was bordered by a square of stones. This was the god whom these animistic people worship. The missionaries are working very slowly with them, building relationships and singing songs, waiting for them to become curious and for an opportunity to heal someone dramatically or some other way to witness about Jesus Christ and the power of God. Many of the missionaries love these tribal people. It is not uncommon for a YCLT family to spend the Christmas holidays living in a mud hut among the Kolami. We saw pictures of Rev. Gaikwad's children standing with tribal people who were being baptized in the river.

THE CHILDREN OF INDIA

Matthew 5:8

Go to the top

The children we got to know at YCLT were a glimpse of the Kingdom. We worshipped with the faculty and students of this missionary community, and attended the children's evening devotions. We also encountered casually the 1300 school children, only some of whom are Christians. Every encounter was a joyous event.

In worship, even the youngest children sit with their parents and participate in the singing. They know the songs. We led seventy missionary children in evening devotions on three nights and were unable to teach them one song they didn't know! They sing with equal vigor in English and Hindi, and they choreograph elaborate gestures to accompany them all. The teacher simply names a song, and the children begin singing, settling quickly into a common key. Three boys playing guitar seemed less concerned about key but were a helpful rhythm section.

Children tease Jeffrey Uncle

The most striking thing about the children is the love that radiates spontaneously from them. When you wave hello to anyone at YCLT, they come over to you and shake your hand. The children call adults "uncle" and "auntie," and they want to know your name. I was "Jeffrey Uncle." And they love to have their picture taken. "Camera, Uncle?" they will say. They always thank you and shake your hand after you take their picture. Don't take a child's picture in the school yard, or you will be overwhelmed by them from all directions. They cannot be persuaded to stay back far enough for a group photo. The best you can hope for is a picture of another adult with a camera being mobbed by a group of children.

Two things about the children's interaction will stay with me. For one, they get along very peacefully. I never saw a fight between any of the hundreds of children I saw in India. And second, they participate eagerly in classroom environments. Everybody wants to answer, or to be in the skit, or to hold the flannel board. I will not forget the gentle touch and the bright, welcoming eyes of the children of India, from missionary children in the interior to the beggar children on the streets of Bombay. Genesis 1:26 is my text: God created them in his image.

AN INDIAN SHOWER

Romans 5:3

When you want to bathe in India, you go into a shower stall where there will be a large bucket the size of a kitchen waste can and a two-cup plastic pitcher. The spigot is a couple of feet above the floor. You fill your bucket with water and then douse yourself with the pitcher. Then you soap yourself all over and rinse.

There is usually a water heater up on the wall above the shower stall. In Yavatmal, Ken and I had a water heater, but we took cold baths until the very last day, because the first time we tried to use it the water didn't seem to flow. On the last day, however, I discovered it was just a matter of waiting a moment for the water to flow. That first warm bath felt awfully good.

OF BISHOPS AND CATHEDRALS

Our second leg of the trip was at Nagpur, where we were the guests of Bishop Vinod Peter of the Diocese of Nagpur, Church of North India. The Church of North India was formed in 1970 as a coalition of six Christian denominational entities: The Council of Baptist Churches in Northern India, The Church of the Brethren in India, the Disciples of Christ, The Church of India (Anglican), the Methodist Church, and the United Church of Northern India. We brought with us a gift from the people of St. John's Centerville, a church in our Episcopal Diocese of Virginia. Deacon Pam Rannenberg of St. John's had arranged for me to take a beautiful set of White and Red brocade vestments, including chasuble, stole, altar frontal, burse, funeral pall and related accoutrements.

Our conference was in the Ladies' Chapel at All Saints Cathedral in Nagpur. At our first tea break, I presented the gifts, and the Bishop received them graciously. I sensed, however, that there is some diversity of attitudes about "high-church" vestments in the Church of North India. (How alike we are in our differences!) Bishop Peter presents a simple episcopal image, never wearing cope and mitre or rochet and chamere. He said he was sure that one of their churches would put these vestments to good use.

At our next tea break that afternoon, Canon Naresh Amballah called me in to take a look at the high altar. There on top, folded and draped to hang like a superfrontal, was the funeral pall, just the right length, gracing the altar stunningly. Funeral palls are not used in India, and they did not want to cover the dramatic carvings on the front of the marble altar. A perfect solution was found.

The next day was Sunday, and I was preaching. We processed in together, five clergy including Bishop McDonald Claudius, who was Bishop Peter's house guest. Bishop Peter was making an episcopal visitation somewhere in the diocese. We were all barefoot; the custom is to remove your shoes when you enter a church, or at least when you are in the sanctuary. I had a memorable experience, preaching to the people of All Saints Cathedral on All Saints Day. I had gotten up at 4:45 to put together a sermon, because we were out late dining with the bishops Saturday night. Moreover, this was my first time preaching barefoot, and my first time in a massive marble pulpit with microphones. Canon Amballah was the celebrant, and he was handsome in his new brocade chasuble. He was so pleased with it that he kept it on all through the tea hour following our two-hour worship service.

WHAT HAVE I TO GIVE?

John 13:34

When I was growing up, I thought of a missionary as a person from an advanced culture taking the Gospel to another, more primitive people. There were a number of negative dimensions to that image, such as the aura of paternalism and superiority, and the imposition of a foreign culture. But I regard what we did in India as missionary work, and the image is nothing like the one I grew up with.

I think it hit us all with full impact the first time we worshipped with the people at Yavatmal. Their singing and their prayers were so Spirit-filled that we each wondered in our hearts, "What have I to give these people?" The same thing happened the first time we went to the children's daily devotions expecting to teach them songs. The answer to our prayer, "What do we have to give?" came gracefully. We had ourselves to give. We had our love. We had our encouragement for the important ministry these people are doing. Suddenly our time became God's time. Instead of packaged courses to present, we had a living experience that developed and grew as we went, under the leading of the Holy Spirit. We told stories and asked the staff and students to tell us stories. We sang and laughed together. We prayed for them, and they prayed for us. We prayed for their missions and the people of India; they prayed for our ministries and for the Church in America. When we left, it was like leaving our family behind, and we had fifteen staff and students at the gate not wanting to let go as we drove out.

YCLT President Andrew Swamidoss and his wife, Esther

Arriving in Nagpur on November 2, we were not sure what to expect. We knew we would be putting on a conference for clergy (clergy can be a deadly audience) and we had been led to expect 30 or 40 participants. As it turned out, our three-day conference had been cut to two days, and only twelve pastors and lay leaders showed up. But by this time, we were on Holy Spirit channel, and we were undaunted. God had sent us twelve people with a hunger to share a deeper experience of the Holy Spirit. We again traded stories, prayers and songs as we taught about the Kingdom of God, the ministry of Jesus in the Holy Spirit and spiritual gifts. All the SOMA team members preached in different churches on Sunday, November 5. None of us had more than two hours' preparation for our sermons, but the Lord honored our offering. As I left the last three team members at 7:30 that night, they were just beginning to pray for about twenty college-age men and women who were burning with a vision of renewal for their congregation. It was hard seeing the team break up as three of us came home and three went on to Hyderabad and Nandyal for another week. But it was fitting that I should leave at such a moment, with a sense of more to come as the Kingdom of God drew near.