unhurried space... freeing our souls to saunter, linger, frolic and soar in the stream of God's love

Monday, February 26, 2007

Comic Foreign Signage

Hmmm...they keep using this word. I do not think it means what they think it means.


Power Outages, Fireworks & Midnight Prayers


Before heading to Minjur, India, we knew there'd be opposition. First, within this area of half a million people, there are only 3000 known followers of Jesus Christ. Second, in Minjur, there is a temple to Shiva (the Hindu god of destruction). Third, the field we were using for our festival outreach, belonged to a local Hindu high school. Going in, the deck seemed stacked against us.

On Wednesday evening, we were to go to the field to pray over it and dedicate it to the Lord. Due to the outbursts and disruptions caused by teenage boys playing soccer on the field, that night of prayer was canceled. Rumor was, we were not even sure we could use the field on the rest of the week.

The local pastors prayed and fasted...and "in the 9th hour" we got permission for the field on Thursday (but not until that day about noon). The stage, sound and lighting was to have been set up 2 weeks prior - and because of all the opposition, it was not allowed to be assembled, until the day of the first night of the Festival.

Power Outages

We left our "resting" house, and wound through the very active evening life of town. Cows wandering about while dogs and goats scrounged through the immense amounts of garbage on the side of the road. Autorickshaws, bicycles (with 12 dozen crates of eggs stacked on the back), scooters (carrying families of 4), bullock carts and cars dodging one another in complete disarray that has a strange rhythm to it.

There were mostly men out in the intersections - grabbing local snacks, and hanging out in the streets. Most of their foreheads colored with various Hindu markings. The women who were out were carrying heavy loads - sometimes atop their heads or gathered up in their arms.

When we arrived (about an hour into the preliminaries - once again, they waited to bring us until there was a more significant crowd) we were glad to see the field lighted and amplified. A somewhat saggy stage was assembled - but it was sufficient.

After we all gave a short greeting, I sang a song, and then started to give my testimony. When I got to the part about sharing about how I invited Jesus Christ, who died on a cross and rose again to forgive my sins, into my life - the power went out. I wasn't surprised at all, actually, and think I even laughed under my breath, "So this is how the enemy is going to try to interfere. Sorry, Light of the World - time for you to shine!"

The power stayed out...five minutes, ten minutes...I watched young men scramble back and forth across the field. They were running toward the bus off to the side which seemed to be what was powering the event. About ten minutes into the wait, the pastors on the stage - from about 10 different denominations, gathered at the front and held hands. They began singing together and praising God. Their praises were so beautiful - their show of unity powerful.

Though it seemed like the event was thwarted, the stance of these pastors, who had never before worked in a unified fashion, was the beauty and light that brought light into the darkness that night. After about 20 -25 minutes or so of power outage, the lights came back on and the festival continued. The One True God - the light of the world - would not be thwarted!

Fireworks
The next day, we were informed that some local Hindus complained about our gathering. They went to the superintendent at the school and asked him to stop the festival. The superintendent, under great pressure to succumb to the local Hindu ruckus, nevertheless decided to grant us permission. He told the local pastors that Mike must not speak against Hinduism or idols. No problem - who needs to speak about lesser gods when the One True God's love and forgiveness is so ravishing? Mike just preached Jesus Christ crucified. But the entire time during his preaching that night, there were fireworks exploding just beyond the opposite end of the field. They continued and continued ... it seemed so obvious an attempt to distract the crowd. When Mike gave the invitation to receive Jesus Christ...the fireworks mysteriously stopped.

Midnight Prayers
There continued to be opposition of sorts - each day there was a new threat that the festival would be shut down. In addition, the lead pastor organizing the event was in a motorcycle accident, and several of us on the team sensed spiritual struggle from time to time. On Saturday night, however, we sensed a tremendous spiritual breakthrough...we all felt it...we felt that whatever evil spirits were "resident" in that Hindu space were stomped on. That night many more people seemed touched by and responded to the gospel message.

What is always interesting to me, is that when I get home from a missions trip, some of the people who have been praying share how God prompted them to pray during the week. So I was completely humbled and unsurprised, upon hearing one friend say, "God would not let me sleep - and I was up till the wee hours of the morning praying. I could not not pray."

How remarkable to note that those wee-hours-of-the-morning prayers were obviously the first line of prayer defense all week. When some of you were praying at 3, 4, 5 in the morning, 13 1/2 hours ahead of the West Coast, was the time when the permission for using the field was being argued about. Who knows how we were carried forth on these midnight prayers...

Rumba nundre (Thank you so much) for your prayers!
Karther periaver (God is Great!)

Friday, February 23, 2007

Biriyani for the Soul

The day after arriving in Chennai, I had my first opportunity to teach at the 2 day women's conference. It was interesting - the conference was supposed to start at 9:30 a.m. ...I was not even brought to the church until around 11:15. Evidently the crowds were not large enough yet...and they wanted more women to come before they let me teach.

This disturbed my soul...I will teach to one or one thousand (and probably prefer the 1). With my time cut drastically short, I taught the lesson that has so ravished and beckoned my heart to kneel in awe and abandon lesser loves: The God who created the universe, who calls all the stars by name and who is exalted above all things stooped down to the likes of me. For women who live in not only a caste system of different socioeconomic and spiritual levels, but also a caste system of gender (male & female, the latter being the lower caste - btw, this was told to me in the form of a joke by a male national pastor..."you know there are really only 2 castes in India - male and female"), this was a vital and necessary truth to be proclaimed and prayerfully, embraced.

I wanted these women to know that there was a God who (Exodus 3) heard their cries, saw their misery, was concerned and came down. I wanted them to know that there is a God who sees, and hears, and knows and cares...they are noticed by the King of kings...they are not abandoned, nor forgotten, nor lesser in any way.

Upon finishing my teaching, a pastor's wife got up and enthusiastically said, "Thank you, Paula Sister, for giving us Biriyani for our souls..."

That was a new one...I'd never been compared to a spicy, rice dish! As my translator leaned over to expound on the cultural context of this comment, she said that Biriyani is the choicest of foods for the Indian - served at wedding feasts and special celebrations: "It is the very best food in India!"

I could only thank God for the privilege.

One of my missionary heroes and profs, Dr. Mary Wilder, has defined missions as "One beggar showing another beggar where to find bread."

What a privilege to be in India as a beggar sharing bread...no wait...Biriyani...with some other beggars.

www.paulagamble.com

Nicole Kidman describes the gist of Christianity without knowing it

Last night I watched the Oprah Winfrey Oscar special...and during part of the time, friends and actors Russell Crowe & Nicole Kidman interviewed one another.

Kidman asked Crowe, "Do you prefer loving or being loved?"
Squirm, squirm...He said something like: "I prefer loving...it is easier. I am horrible at receiving gifts, I'd rather give them."

When Crowe said he was so very intrigued by that question, he returned the question to Kidman. She, after also squirming uncomfortably in her chair, replied something like: "I prefer loving because it's easier than letting myself be loved. It's hard to receive love when you feel so undeserving and unworthy of it. It's the hardest thing in the world."

BINGO - she just described grace - she just nailed humanity's plight and even her superstardom status, riches, fame and comforts cannot alleviate her need to let herself be loved though unworthy.

This is why so many do not understand the basis of Christianity...we have nothing to give...and unless we open our hands to receive His undeserved pardon and free gift of salvation, eternal life and forgiveness, we are not truly living in the Love of God. AND we are miserable, wandering, protective, alone.

I hope and pray, that this "aha" will penetrate deeply and open her up to receiving the ultimate Lover's love.

"Our Lord wants you to become mature,
and maturity needs these periods
of obscurity, disillusionment and boredom.
Maturity comes when we have at last realized
that we must love our Lord simply and freely
in spite of our horrible unworthiness..."

(Abbe de Tourville 1842-1903 - in Letters of Direction)


www.paulagamble.com

Thursday, February 22, 2007

What Makes a doubter become a martyr?

One of the interesting places we got to visit on this trip to India, was St. Thomas' mount. It is a small hill, where it is said that Doubting Thomas was martyred. Thomas arrived in southern India in A.D. 52 and was martyred with a lance through his back, while in prayer (in A.D. 72). The striking image is in the entrance to the small church on the top of the hill. On the left side is a caricature of Thomas reaching up his hands toward the scars in Jesus' hands and sides. On the other, Thomas is kneeling in prayer with a lance about to be speared through his back.

What makes a doubter become a martyr?
What makes a doubter travel over 3000 miles from home, to a completely foreign land to tell the good news about the scarred risen Savior?

The one who asked, "Lord, how will we know the way?" (John 14) now knows for sure that Jesus is indeed, the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6)

Maybe Doubt isn't such a bad thing...

Coincidently, I find it ironic that the following sign was stationed near the entrance to the Mount: