Vox Lucens

Over the holidays, there has been a lot of news of persecution. In Orissa, India, for instance, Hindus have used the Christmas season as a pretext for massive rioting, killing many and causing untold damages to churches. And that is but one story of many.

I follow so many of these stories that I sometimes get lost in the tragedy. And then something will come out that reminds me just how much I take for granted. That story, for me, was one that broke yesterday:

US Diplomat Killed in Sudan

The United Nations had recently warned its staff in Sudan that there was credible evidence that a terrorist cell was in the country and planning to attack foreigners.

That could have been me. I was there just a couple of weeks ago. I avoided riots just miles from where I was staying. I was called there, I know that, and knew that I was in God’s hands, but now this–I was taking my safety for granted.

Just this morning, I stumbled upon the work of a documentary photographer in Sudan. He appears to have traveled primarily to the south of Sudan, a different area than I have been to, but the people are the same, and the needs, and the reminder of just how much I take for granted. As I watched his video and fought the tears, I couldn’t help but pray and praise.

And so, at this annual season of reflection and planning, I am reminded of those two things. Praise, praise for the things both large and small that I take for granted, praise for the trials that only work to show me my need and bring me closer to Christ. And prayer–though I say it every week, I cannot say it enough. Prayer is power, power that I take for granted and thereby fail to take advantage of.

Prayer and praise. I want to build 2008 on those two things.

I tend to go about things backwards from time to time. For instance, you would think that if you have a big idea, you use eloquence to express that big idea. That would be the forward way of going about writing. Once in a while, though, in doing my writing, I’ll stumble on a big idea because I’m trying to be eloquent.

I did that the other day at work, writing my latest Weekly Reminder. In pondering what Christmas really means to believers worldwide, I said, “But the peace they know is eternal, a peace between God and man, the limitless void between sin and holiness bridged by a bloodstained cross.”

And I have been thinking about that ever since. It’s not that I haven’t thought about the incarnation before; it’s that I never tried to compare it to human suffering.

We cannot understand the incarnation because we have never known perfection. Even those of us living in the most free nation on earth have never come close–we live in a fallen world, surrounded by fallen people, always seeing evidence of the sin nature that enfolds us. The closest that I have come experiencing the incarnation is in traveling from the U.S. to the third world. It’s a poor example, but it is the essence of the matter. Going from freedom, comfort, and convenience to oppression and poverty is a tiny picture of going from Heaven to earth.

That Christ was willing to cross that incomprehensible gap is the essence of Christmas. But it doesn’t end there…

If Christmas were just about Christ bridging the earth/Heaven gap, it would ring hollow. It would be a miracle without a meaning. But this sacrifice is the source of salvation, in bridging the second gap, the gap between sin and holiness.

That is the void mankind faces. It is the void we cannot cross. It is the insurmountable gap that we must attempt to jump anyway, facing certain doom as we fall short of even seeing our target.

That gap, bridged by the bloodstained cross of a Christ who came from Heaven to earth, is why I celebrate this year.

Merry Christmas!

Which is to say, the power of words.

On Sunday I had the chance to share a trip update with my church family at CHBC, an opportunity which I greatly appreciated because I know they were praying for me while I was in Sudan. It was a privilege to let them know how their prayers were answered.

At the conclusion of the message, Pastor read from my last Weekly Reminder e-mail, which was the text that I first shared on this blog. The story was very meaningful and moving to me, and listening to my own story being read was a weird experience. It took me back to being there, sitting in that church, listening to the story of the Sudanese Church of Christ.

It was that transformation that started me thinking about the power of words. But it was only the beginning. It did not take long, or many people, to encourage me beyond belief simply by thanking me for sharing, and to answer my prayers by telling me that it had impacted their hearts.

But it was the words of a teenage girl that really made my day. She told me, with all the sincerity her teenage heart could muster reflected in her eyes, “I wish to tell you that I really appreciate you putting your life in danger for the widows over in Sudan. You made God happy by what you did.” And you know, in all the thinking I’ve done about all this, I had never thought of our work quite like that.

It was a reminder to me that sometimes the best gift that can be given–at Christmas time or any other–is the simplest. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make someone’s day.

So much to say. So few words to adequately convey. And so much yet to come. Please allow me simply to describe.

I arrived at the church headquarters about 11, passing through a good portion of Khartoum to get there, in a typical little Sudanese rental van. I walk in through the little gate, over the dirt paths, and enter a plastered room with around 100 chairs set up. At the front is a rough wooden pulpit with a red cross hewn in the front, and our team heads towards it, taking the seats in the front.

One by one the pastors enter, resplendent with handshakes and smiles, many asking with excited, broken English how our trip to Kadugli went. They take their places, standing for the opening prayer, in which my limited Arabic only recognizes one word - “Shukron,” or “thank you.” After the prayer of thanksgiving, they join together in praise that easily transcends all language barriers; the Spirit of the Lord is present.

A frail, white haired elder named Samuel rises to his feet and totters to the front, starting with a Scripture: “He that sows with tears,” our translator tells us, “will reap with rejoice.” With that introduction, Pastor Samuel shares the history of the Sudanese Church of Christ, the Baptist movement in Sudan that began in 1904. He tells the story with a clarity and detail borne out of the simple fact that he was there. No, not back in 1904, though he looks old enough to have been alive then, but as the church blossomed and grew he was there. He was the one who turned himself in, going to the police, sacrificing his own freedom to advance Christ’s cause–and he was the one miraculously saved by the power of God.

An hour and a half later, he has not lost his audience. They still hang on each word, but our time is drawing to a close, but much is yet to be done. Our team has not come empty-handed; far from it. Bicycles are brought in, a gift to their pastors to allow easier transportation. And then I am allowed to stand and give a short introduction to the gift I have brought from the churches in the United States. It’s a small gift, an envelope with a $10 bill for each pastor, not much money perhaps, but hopefully an encouragement and a way to alleviate the expenses they have incurred to come to Khartoum.

But before I can give it out, another elder, a grey-haired man of wisdom rises and shuffles on deformed ankles to the front. “I do not want to take time,” he says, “but I feel led of the Holy Spirit to share. In my old age, when I look at my church, I think of it as an orphan, a child that is left without father or mother. It cannot think, it cannot live by itself…”

His words trail off into a flood of tears.

“In short,” the translator takes over, “He wants to express his thanks for your cooperation with us as a ministry. He was especially touched by Brother Gabe’s news that the church in the United States is praying for the church in Sudan.”

And the gift I hold seems completely inconsequential compared to that gift, the gift of prayer.

******

We had to leave the service quickly, due to fear of an impending riot over the teddy bear incident. We have been completely unaffected by the riots that did take place in downtown Khartoum; please pray that this safety continues.

I was asked to share a short background on Sudan for a homeschool speech club meeting, which I was delighted to do. The file was too big to e-mail, though, so I post it here. Enjoy!

sudanbackground.mp3

Today I was writing the Weekly Reminder, trying to do a good job under significant time restraints with an amazingly compelling story. As I wrote, I suddenly realized that I was writing my own prayer request for myself. But it is one that all believers need!

Jesus never promised that the Christian life would be easy. Following His path is not something that we do for the temporal reward, because His promises are for eternity.

Today I read a story about a Nigerian man who has learned what it means to sacrifice for Christ. A court in Nigeria, which is a Muslim nation, has taken his daughters away from him because he is a Christian. The police commissioner in his city simply said that he is no longer capable of being their father because he turned to the gospel. (You can read the full story here.)

As I read this story, I was immediately reminded of Matthew 10:37: “He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” This man, by clinging to his faith in spite of the sacrifice, has proved that he is worthy. In spite of the pain, he has his priorities straight—he is looking to eternity.

Mark 10 tells us that his reward is sure. “And Jesus answered and said, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel’s, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life.” (Mark 10:29-30)

 

The fact that the Christian life is not easy does not mean that it is not worth it! What a merciful God we have, so willing to reward if we are faithful in serving Him through the pain.

 

Let us pray for that faithfulness for our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is a prayer that we all need—whether we live in freedom or in persecution!—but let us especially remember those that live in such suffering. Your prayers work to give them strength to run the race to the end, and receive that reward: in the world to come eternal life.

In other news–

One hundred and sixty-two games ago, the baseball season began. And now, the day after the regular season should have ended, one game remains. The fabled MLB tiebreaker–only the seventh ever. All of the toil, the work, the wins, the losses, the injuries, the blood, sweat, and tears, comes down to this.

It’s now or never.

The season’s on the line.

Win or go home.

Reminds me of law school. Three weeks out, all but the end ahead, depleted by injuries, exhausted, facing what comes next, it all comes down to this. Everything, or nothing, comes after. All I want to do is move on–and what it takes to move on is a concentrated, disciplined effort to finish everything up.

Reminds me of Scripture:

I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

It all comes down to this.