Friday, August 26, 2011

[FROM TIJUANA] Commanded to Go

Homes built. Orphans fed. For the people of each site we visited, our service was but a day. For some on our team, the trip was a mountaintop experience that, in sad reality, will eventually fizzle out (or even sadder, simply a notch on the belt to feel good about). I know because I've been there before myself. For a few, however, the week-long experience will go down as a pivotal point shaping life from here on out.

"Having my eyes steadily peeled open to the reality that I’ve so often managed to tune out of my life—all the suffering in the world—God wrecked my heart and propelled me to more deeply seeking His face."

That is what I reported after my first trip to Tijuana with Caravan Ministries in 2009. It was true when I wrote it, and still true to this day. But it was vague. On my second visit, already prepared for the Truthful shock-and-awe factor delivered daily by unreserved speakers, God moved me in a different—and very specific—way.

"Go, send, or disobey" (John Piper, speaking of missions) is the maxim of the ministry, and initially, I thought that the LORD's lesson for me in round two was the same as the last: stay, send, and be content. Going into the field sounds glorious; merely sending—not so sexy. You see, despite my desire to Go (the desire of my will, but not necessarily my inherent want), massive pre-Christian-incurred college loans have kept long-term missions off the table.

Here's an illustration of that presupposed lesson. On build site #3, despite wanting to wield a hammer on the casa, I decided to hang out with the chicos nearby. At first, like with missions, I felt like I was sitting on the sidelines, not doing "my part."

But as it would turn out, speeding downhill in a children's toy car with no brakes and playing soccer with those kids was the most meaningful—and fulfilling—time of the trip for me. So, what did I learn that day? Whether Sending (like I thought I was supposed to) or Going, the role should be embraced (God sees the heart).

The next day, however, I realized that although true (that sacrificially sending/intentionally mobilizing/effectively equipping is indeed a vital role within the missional body), it wasn't exactly the message that God wanted to engraft in me. When I first accepted Jesus, there was no BAM! moment like I initially thought there had to be as I was seeking for truth throughout college. When I made the decision to commit to my future bride, there was no supernatural sign giving me the green light. Many of us spend our lives this way: waiting for a sign before we act, being paralyzed in fear of failure or making the wrong decision or stepping outside of God's will (see 1 John 3:20). Well, on my last day in Mexico, God used two rock solid men ("sons of Von") to put things in perspective for me.

Brad, a stellar surfer in his day and native of southern California, had zero desire to become a missionary when he became a Christian. He had no "heart" for lost people and never saw letters in the clouds "calling" him to preach the Gospel to the ends of the earth. He was full of fear, and by his own admittance, basically a pretty bad candidate to be a missionary. What he did have though was Pastor Von, and so somewhat by transitive property, Brad had obedience to God's Word. And God's Word says this:

And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:18-20)

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth. (Acts 1:8)

Brad (who, despite his fears, spent twenty years in the jungles of Papua New Guinea, translating the Bible into the local language and planting a now-thriving church) points out that, specifically for missions, God has already said "Yes," and that we don't need to wait for Him to say it again. "Until God shuts you down, you keep going... To surrender to the crosshairs of His will means to embrace fear... There is no Plan B. Are we addicted to Plan B? If you have a Plan B, you will never be in a position to please God, though you can fool everybody else, including yourself."

You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. (1 Corinthians 6:19-20) "Worship is giving back to God that which He is worthy of... Self-preservation screams at us, and God's voice will whisper, 'you know I'm credible.'" (Brad)

Right after Brad's talk, Eddie and I shared a truck ride to our last work site, and his advice crystalized the truth resounding in my mind. He told me that our focus should not be on trying to discern God's will for our life; it should just be trying to discern God's will—period. God has already commanded us to go (push into missions, based on His Word), and only stay if we're called (meaning if He keeps closing the door on it).

Commanded to go, called to stay. Personally, I really like this refreshing mindset—it's liberating, it takes my questioning out, and makes God's answer clear.


"He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."
— Jim Elliot, missionary martyr who lost his life in the late 1950's trying to reach the Auca Indians of Ecuador

"If you found a cure for cancer, wouldn't it be inconceivable to hide it from the rest of mankind? How much more inconceivable to keep silent the cure from the eternal wages of death." — Dave Davidson

"If ten men are carrying a log — nine of them on the little end and one at the heavy end — and you want to help, which end will you lift on?" — William Borden, as he reflected on the numbers of Christian workers in the U.S. as compared to those among unreached peoples in China

When James Calvert went out as a missionary to the cannibals of the Fiji Islands, the ship captain tried to turn him back, saying, "You will lose your life and the lives of those with you if you go among such savages." To that, Calvert replied, "We died before we came here."

"The gospel is only good news if it gets there in time." — Carl F. H. Henry

All the more reason to go: And this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come. (Matthew 24:14) He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

Monday, August 1, 2011

Take It On The Chin

The truest form of toughness is vulnerability.

Think Rocky Balboa versus Clubber Lang (aka Mr. T).

Think Jesus versus Death.

It's looking in the face of physical pain, social ill-acceptance, or spiritual stretching and saying, "OK, let's do this."

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Friday, July 29, 2011

All In, Baby

Marriage talk has arrived at our doorstep. Issues arise and inventories are taken. One such topic is where to potentially live in our first year or two of marriage. My initial focus: practicality. Leah's ideal: living alongside the poor.

Though I may have more sound doctrine on paper and have more of an intentionally evangelical mindset, she hits the nail right smack on the head (probably without even thinking about it) when it comes to living out Scripture.

Is my preference to live amongst the poor? Not really.

Did I get too comfortable somewhere along the way? Uh huh.

Do I like where my heart is at now? No.

Am I willing to dive head first into such a lifestyle anyway? Yes.

If my trust is all in with Jesus, then how can there be room for fear? He is in control—of everything—after all.

(Thanks for being my better half, mama! Blessed indeed.)

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Monday, July 25, 2011

[FROM VANCOUVER] Helpless / Hopeful

Even before my departure, I heard via Leah's reports that Vancouver's Downtown Eastside was Canada's poorest postal code, a few city blocks packed with rampant addictions and conspicuous prostitution, widespread homelessness and overwhelming brokenness. From a photojournalistic stance, it was a surreal world I was readily willing to capture. So, when we were about to set off for our tour of that specific area, I was naturally disappointed (and somewhat bitter) as Leah told me that it would be a real good idea to leave the camera behind.

It took a few minutes, but I eventually got over it and we finally started off. Along the way, Leah described much of what we saw from the destructive effects of gentrification* to the disturbingly acceptable culture of the streets. (Take for example that the Vancouver Police Station is literally across the street from the corner where a lot of the drug-dealers linger (right in front of the community center nonetheless).)

As (just about) always, Leah was right; it was a good idea to leave my camera behind. With empty hands, I was able to fully register the overwhelming experience of what I witnessed. By the time we passed through the Bottle Depot section, my mind was drained and my face stoic.

I didn't like what I saw in my heart. There was a lot of fear, and in turn, I ironically (but I suppose naturally) put up a front of toughness. This is where I learned where I stood with God and His people, where I discovered that cerebral theology—even with an earnest heart—can only get you so far if life is lived in disconnected comfort.

(In the process, I also found that the truest form of toughness is vulnerability. And God showed me that I still have a lifetime's work to go.)

Grabbing lunch at the community center (yes, the same one with all the drug-dealers out in front (the food was cheap and surprisingly good)), Leah and I ran into "Gabriel" and engaged in what turned out to be a (seemingly God-ordained) lengthy conversation.

Probably introverted and minding his own business, "Gabriel" agreed to come join us at our table. Before we knew it, he basically divulged his life story, sharing in detail wild episodes from God calling out for him while he was caught up in drugs, to God's providential guidance and supernatural protection. He's a local who knows the deal; he's a believer on the ground. Addiction is the problem, but money isn't the answer.

Honest. Transparent. Vulnerable. Tough. He should be a preacher. (He said if you want to find out about yourself, spend a year in the Downtown Eastside. Only a mere afternoon and I could see how right on he was.)

All that to say, if there was one thing I could have conveyed through an image of the DTES, it was the existence of a spiritual rock bottom beneath the rock bottom as the world knows... the utter helplessness of man to rescue man. Never in my entire life had I felt as helpless as I did in the thick of that broken street, seeing bodies drift around as if their souls had been stolen. No heap of money, no amount of time spent in detox, no man-made program can restore that. (And it made me realize that any real power that I ever thought I wielded was not my own.)

No man can fix this. Only God can change, only God can save. "Gabriel" stands as living proof of that undeniable power.











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* gentrification: the process of renewal and rebuilding accompanying the influx of middle-class or affluent people into deteriorating areas that often displaces poorer residents

Imagine a town (full of poor Ramen-eating college kids) building nothing but five-star restaurants.

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Friday, July 22, 2011

Judgemental

When I see real life addicts who have changed course and are now seeking after God, easily can I see God smiling upon them... pleased. Yet when I slack in my quiet time and "good deeds," I come down upon myself with scrutiny.

"If I feel judgement, then I am judgemental."
-Michael Collins

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