So How Was Your Trip?

After getting through customs in Detroit, most of us gathered at the McDonalds in the airport. McDonalds -- a place where cows are not sacred, they are ground and cooked and served between buns with a side order of Fries.

It's good to be home!

Even though my body is still trying to operate on India time, I was in church today and I was asked several times, "So, how was your trip?"

I don't quite know how to answer that question.

Give me two or three hours, I might be able to give a bit of an answer -- but to answer in a casual conversation and to give a 2 or 3 sentence response is too difficult.

I have so many impressions about India.

I am inspired by the pastors I met, each of whom are committed to starting a minimum of two churches. They are facing overwhelming odds, but they press on toward their goal.

I am impressed by how all of India is so deeply spiritual -- and yet they are in such spiritual darkness. They worship 250 million gods. They seek to wash their sins away by bathing in the filthy waters of the Ganges River, among the ashes of cremated humans and the dead cows floating by.

I am saddened by the racism in India, which is protected by the institutionalized caste system. I met a Christian woman who helped create the literacy program of the mission organization. She holds a PhD in education and she is responsible for teaching over 3 million Indians to read. Yet, she is an untouchable in the caste system. While she has a position in the church, she will never have a position in her society.

I am concerned for the religious persecution that takes place in India. In India, becoming a Christian means you will probably be cast out of your family. Society will look down upon you. Pastors are beaten and occasionally murdered.

I am moved by the people I met who tithe in India. These people do not have decent homes and have less than a full meal a day. But when they prepare their meal, they set aside a tenth of their rice before cooking it, and place it in a bag. When they come to church, this is their offering. The church uses it to feed the poorest among the poor.

I am enthusiastic about the work of this mission organization. They do three things -- and only three things. And they do them so well! The Literacy Programs are teaching people to read, the Children's Bible Clubs are leading families to Christ, and the Church Planting program is starting new churches in a nation that is exploding for Christ. We aren't talking about a small program -- there are 3 million kids in the Bible Clubs right now!

So -- how was the trip? Incredible!

Final Photos

On Sunday, January 30th, I preached in the tiniest little church. It was packed with worshippers from the poorest slum I've ever imagined. This and other pictures have been added to a final photo album, which can be found at http://community.webshots.com/user/pastormaynard. 

Tenacity

We were standing in a train station, tired from a long day that had started with a 4 AM wake up call. It was now 10 PM and most of us wanted nothing more than to get on a train, take a 3-hour ride, get into our hotel and crawl into bed.

But the train was late and so we waited.

An old man came up to us. He had no legs but dragged a shoe shine box. "Polish your shoes, sir?"

"No."

The beggars and vendors are everywhere. None of us wanted our shoes polished. We wanted to train to arrive and take us away.

"Polish your shoes, sir,"

"NO." The answer got more and more emphatic.

But after about 30 minutes, one of us said, "Sure."

Then another of us, and then another.

Mark is a member of our group and he said it well in this morning's worship. "I've never seen people with more tenacity than the people of India."

The shoe shiner is a good example. He kept pestering us until a few agreed.

The beggars are constantly hounding us for money. It breaks our hearts, but none of us wanted to give money before getting on the train, knowing that we would become easy targets. I admit, as I boarded the train, I gave a few coins to a woman with a baby, knowing she would not be able to keep that money. Begging is syndicated here and her "supervisor" will collect all she receives. It's just too hard to say "no" and she is just too persistent. Tenacity! She presses on.

The vendors persist at every stop. "NO! I don't want to buy a peacock feather!" It does no good to say this, they persist. The just keep pressing on.

The caste system with its racism presses on.

The poverty presses on.

The disregard for the environment, the smoke and smog, presses on.

The idolatry and worship of the 250 million gods of India, presses on.

But the Word of God is more tenacious.

I met a church planter who was trained by the organization we are visiting. He made a commitment to plant two churches. He has no clue how this will happen, but he is convinced - he knows beyond doubt - God will plant those two churches through him.

He went into a village and went from home to home. He was thrown out of every one of them. He was finally thrown out of the village.

Then one day, a child of a village leader was sick and nothing could be done to heal the child. The family, tenaciously touching all bases and checking with all gods, asked the church planter to come and pray.

He went. He prayed. A child was healed. A church with 5 people are now worshipping in that village.

Tenacity.

I've learned so many lessons out of India, and tenacity is one of them. We need to press on with the Word of God. We need to stick to the work God is giving us.

We are winding down this trip. Yesterday and today are "tourist days" in which we have been able to visit things like the Taj Mahal. Tonight around midnight, we will leave our hotel and head for the airport. By 1 AM we will be on a plane headed home.

Keep us in your prayers that our trip will be safe.

But beyond that, keep India in your prayers. And keep India in your prayers forever.

Be tenacious about praying for this place! Just keep pressing on, asking that God would bless this nation.

One fourth of the world's unreached population is right here in India. Evil is not letting up -- pray that the Christian workers here don't let up. Press on!

A Definition of Poverty

How do you measure poverty? In the US it's a few thousand dollars per year. I tried and failed to find the official figure online, but I did find a website that said 60% of the poor in America own a VCR.

I was told this morning that in India poverty is defined as less than a full meal per day.

I'd mentioned earlier that I'd seen the worst poverty here that I've ever seen -- and today I've seen worse than I saw when I wrote that a couple of days ago. I've walked streets that have such filth I thought about throwing away my shoes when I returned to the hotel. The stench was so bad I held my breath, gasping in an occasional lung-full of air. I saw people living in this filth, breathing this air, and living on these streets without any real shelter -- not even the tents made of rotting rags I mentioned in a previous entry.

But there is another way to measure poverty, and that is the poverty of the soul.

We were in the city of Varansi today. At dawn, with the sun beginning to appear, we were in a row boat on the Ganges River This is the holiest place on earth for the Hindus. It is here they gather so as to cleanse their sins, which they do by immersing themselves in the river.

Sounds like baptism, doesn't it?

But no.

This is nothing like a baptism.

I watched these people enter the water, and as I did I saw a corpse of a cow float by. Further upstream human corpses were being burned at a rate of 100 per day. The ashes were being shoveled into the river.

It is in this polluted and filthy water that the people came for spiritual cleansing.

No, this is nothing like baptism.

But it was in this water that the Hindu pilgrims came to wash away their sins, dipping themselves underwater time and again. One man gulped in the river's water and rinsed out his mouth as if using mouth wash in hopes of totally cleansing himself of sin.

This is nothing like a baptism.

This is immersion into filth.

The Baptism Christians know is immersion into God's love.

And was it just me and my Christian bias, or did I notice a difference between the faces of these Hindu pilgrims and the faces of others we have met during this trip?

No. I don't think it is any bias I may have. I think the difference is real.

On the faces of the Hindu pilgrims, there was no joy. I did not see a single smiling face. No tears of godly passion. Nothing but emptiness.

But earlier this week, I've been with the so-called "untouchables" of India. Their faces are full of joy. They radiate with the love of Christ. They smile and laugh and give praise to God -- one God. Not to the 250 million gods of Hinduism.

There are many ways to measure poverty. And today I think I saw the worst poverty of all.

Back Together Again

Our group has been separated for several days, but late last night we gathered back together, meeting in Delhi.

Each small group has been to a different part of India, and they all have incredible stories...

"We got to ride elephants! We rode through 10-foot tall grass. We saw Rhinos and all sorts of wildlife. We were somewhere near Nepal, and the Christians we visited had never seen white skinned people before."

Another talked of going to Calcutta and visiting the Mother Teresa Hospital. "We walked down the hallway past all these sick children. This tiny nun would touch each child and the children would just beam. The simple touch meant so much to them."

Another talked of a worship service they led. "My buddy ended the service by asking if anyone wanted to accept Christ as Savior, and he looks at these Indians and says, 'It's easy as ABC.' I'm thinking, 'Gee dude! These folks can't read!' But he explained the Gospel and 25 people accepted Christ."

One man described the prayer requests of a group of women. One asked for prayer that she could learn to read. Another asked for healing of a sick uncle. "And what blew me away was that the next lady asked that she not become materialistic. We were in a slum, and this lady has the awareness that at any economic level, the things we own can become more important than God."

Another said, "I had a pastor tell me, 'We are so glad you came from America to see these people. Indians won't visit here -- and you're coming here means so much.'"

It means a lot to us, too. All of us are being changed by the things we are seeing.

Worship at its Best

The church was packed to capacity with some 40 or so people crowded in a space of 10 feet by 30 feet. Sitting on the floor, the congregation became like carpet, completely covering the floor. The building was nothing more than a concrete box with a metal sheeting hung in the doorway by a couple of fragile hinges.

Again, we were greeted as honored guests with gifts of flowers children hung around our necks.

There were two of us visiting this church -- as large as our group is, I believe we all went out "two by two" for worship in various churches this Sunday morning. In the church where Steve and I visited there were hymns and prayers. At the request of the pastor and with the help of the translator, I delivered the sermon.

Steve followed me with well chosen words of greeting and a sharing of a favorite Scripture.

There was an offering during the service. There was no plate, as we would think of in America. Instead there was what looked more like a bank deposit bag -- and perhaps that is what it was. Every single adult and most, if not all of the children, contributed coin or two.

I asked after the service what the offering was used for -- paying the pastor, buying Bibles, helping the poor with medicines, and missions.

Missions.

This church was a concrete box in the middle of the deepest poverty I have ever seen -- those who were in the group I went to Haiti with in September may appreciate the severity of that statement. Haiti is middle class by comparison. These people lived in homes that were made of rags -- not sheets -- pieces of oily and dirty and rotting rags. The clothing they wore was all they had. A couple of the children wore only ill-fitting T-shirts. Their meal tonight will be curry. Not rice and curry. Just curry.

Somewhere in this experience is a reflection of the difference between the sacrifices of Cain and Abel. Here is the widow's mite in ways we will never see in America.

These people have nothing, and yet they give to God.

These people who need so much, are giving joyfully and eagerly -- some actually reaching out and straining to put something in the offering.

I hope it will be a long time before anyone comes into my office and talks about the burden of tithing -- or how they dread having another stewardship season. I'm not sure I could react with a pastorally polite response after seeing what we saw today.

Whatever sermon I preached to them today is nothing compared to the sermon they preached to us today.

Housekeeping

A few "housekeeping" thoughts...

Someone emailed me to let folks know they can subscribe to the blog and get the updates by email without visiting the blog site. Just log onto the blog and look for the tiny mention of the subscription at the top of the page. It is not clear, so you have to pay attention to it.

If you do subscribe, the photos may or may not show up in the email. If they don't show up -- just go to the regular blog page and you can see the photos.

I'm also posting more photos frequently on http://community.webshots.com/user/pastormaynard.

The question has come up about where we are staying. I almost hate to say this, because it's nice for everyone to think we are really suffering for the Lord. However, the hotels were we are staying are top quality. They are safe environments surrounded by walls and a gated entrance, with lots of security -- although none of us have felt uncomfortable about security when we leave the hotel compound. The food is great. Service is great. The television has CNN, HBO, and a number of Indian stations, some of which are in English.

Because of the nature of our visit and the people we are with, it would be easy to get the impression that all of India is poor and illiterate, which simply is not true. The people we meet in the hotel -- both the staff and the business travelors from within India -- reflect that side of India we are not seeing in our visits with the mission programs.

There are 18 major languages and well over 1,600 dialects spoken in India. Not everyone speaks Hindi, which I believe is the official language. English is widely spoken and it is referred to as "the language of trade."

I need to correct one thing I believe I said earlier -- the percentage of Christians is 2.3%. I believe I gave a different figure in an earlier entry.

It is interesting to see where the readers are for this Blog I am keeping online. Most are from the US, as you would think -- but only 78%. Ten percent come from India. The rest from Singapore, Great Britain, Canada, Hong Kong, Oman, Chile, Romania and Malaysia. I would love for anyone to leave a comment, but especially those readers in India -- particularly where I need more insight into what I am seeing. One thing I'd be interested in is an ancient fort, high on a hill. It is somewhere North or Northeast of Hyderabad. We passed it on the way to one of the villages today. The thing is huge, and sitting on top of a mountain as big as Stone Mountain in Georgia. The hill is almost like Stone Mountain in that it is completely bare, just rock and an ancient, Medieval-like fortress. I asked our guide what it was. All he could tell me is that it is a fort and that it is very old.

Speaking of comments -- thanks Mike for explaining the half hour difference in the time zones! We were all wondering about that.

Incredible Welcome!

A year ago, there was not a single Christian in this village. Today some 40 new Christians and their pastor greeted four of us as we stepped off the bus. Each of us was greeted with a warm handshake and what I would call a Lai, freshly cut flowers tied together in a loop and placed around our necks. A small band began to play -- a drum and trumpet. They led us through every street of their tiny village as we walked to the church.

Non Christian villagers came out of their huts or climbed onto the rooftops of their homes to watch us parade through their community.

We came to the new church building -- a small hut with a large and spacious yard. Steve, Bob, Larry and I were escorted to the chairs at the front, behind a tiny table that may well have been the Lord's Table.

The congregation gathered and sat on the ground.

We began by listening to the people sing several songs. There seemed to be only one hymnbook and a man holding it would sing a few words, and then the people would heartily sing those words.

After several hymns, three men in costume and make-up came to the front of the people and presented a drama about becoming a Christian. Drama is an important part of the ministry in this culture.

Following the drama, the pastor called on people to give testimonies.

One young man described himself as a bully. At one point he joined what he referred to as "the militants," who would meet together planning assassinations of public officials and kidnappings of their families. The police raided one meeting and he was able to escape.

He left that community and found a job in Hyderabad, but still being a bully, he got into a fight at work and was fired.

As a child, he was unable to speak, and his mother, who was a Christian, prayed that if God would heal him and give him a voice, she would dedicate the child to God.

During an illness, he saw his mother tell him that she had dedicated him to God. A pastor visited and prayed for him and the young man was healed and gave his life to Christ.

He is now a pastor working in a nearby village and has brought 45 people to Christ during this first year of his ministry.

Another testimony was given by a woman who was a child of Christian parents, but when her mother was diagnosed with cancer, she rejected Christ. When her mother died, she became severely depressed.

One day she went into the city of Hyderabad and fainted in the streets, but the city people ignored her. A pastor came along and helped her to get to a hospital. Through encountering the kindness of this man, she was brought to Christ. She now lives in the village where we were visiting, and she operates a small farm.

After several testimonies, I was asked to speak.

I told them where I came from and I talked about how almost everyone in my community is a Christian. One rarely meets Hindu or Muslim people, and on Sunday everyone goes to church.

(OK, maybe I was describing the way the South used to be, but bear with me, I was trying to make a point...)

I went onto say that while almost everyone I knew believed in Jesus, for many of them their love was growing cold. They were not as excited as they once were about the Lord. They didn't share Christ with others anymore.

"But when I go home, I will show them all of the photographs I have taken of you and I will tell them about how much you love the Lord and that will help them get excited for Christ all over again!"

After the rest of my group had opportunities to share, we were invited to pray with the people. Everyone came forward, many with containers of oil, asking us to anoint them and pray for them. Many had tears in their eyes and went from one person to another asking each in our group to pray for them.

With me there was a different twist. After each prayer, they would gesture for me to take their photograph. Then they would say, according to the translator, "Show my picture to your church members so they can get as excited as I am about the Lord."

(Pictures of today can be found at http://community.webshots.com/user/pastormaynard)

"Tell us about the men who were barely wearing any clothing and about the stiff ropes they had around their bodies," Steve asked one of the guides after we were back on the bus.
"They dress that way because they climb trees, and they use the stiff ropes to help them climb. The trees have fruit at the top. It is not a coconut, but the fruit has a white liquid and people drink it as a liquor."
"How long does it take to ferment?"
"Oh it's alcoholic and intoxicating right off the tree."
I never heard of this one -- but I'm glad no one has imported any of these trees to college campuses back home!
 

Steve from Westminster Presbyterian Church in Snellville shares the Good News with the children of a Bible Club. 

I motioned with my camera trying to ask this man for permission to take his photograph. He seemed to understand as he struck a pose for me. Then he asked me for my autograph and, according to my translator, began to tell me about why I should be a Hindu. I didn't understand either the autograph, or why I should become Hindu! 

One of the older students in a literacy program in the village we visited today.

Friday's Encounters

STORIES
I met a man who was a radical Hindu extremists -- it seems there are extremists in every faith system. He began attending the Literacy Programs in hopes of finding ways to charge the Christians with crimes. He found nothing offensive, and even began embracing the Gospel. He was baptized -- an amazing act in a place where such actions result in the loss of family, community position and perhaps employment.

One of the others in our group told me of a woman he met in a Literacy Program. She has no idea how old she is, and without a reference of time she has no idea how long she had worked in a factory. It was a long time, however, and day after day she would put something metal inside another piece of metal. She had no idea what she was making, she simply did her job.

When she joined the Literacy Program, she was able to find out what she was doing to make a living.

She was making bullets.

In her world, bullets are not for police or armies, but gangs and criminals. And now she is struggling as a new Christian about the ethics of what she does for a living.


VISITING AN ISOLATED VILLAGE

Today we went to a remote and tiny village where a Bible Club for Children met. There were over 50 kids -- but where they came from to gather at this building in the middle of nowhere is beyond me.

Among the children, not a single one of them is a Christian. And yet their parents send them to this club. Through an interpreter, I asked one of the parents why he did this.

"The children learn to be more obedient. They become cleaner. They dress better and take care of themselves. They do their homework for school."


VISITING AN ADULT LITERACY CLASS

Our last stop of the day was at the village of Yabbadabbadoo -- or something I simply could not pronounce. Someone in our group pronounced it, "beautiful downtown Burbank."

The odd thing about this class was the age of the women students. They ranged from young teenagers to elderly grandmothers.

They had several questions for us. First of all, their well water is often contaminated. Can we put in a better water system. Second, the women can work only part of the year in the farming of the area land. Could we get them a sewing center so they could start a business producing children's clothing. Finally, one woman wanted us to buy her a tribal dress.

Our interpreter explained that this was outside the three areas of ministry of this particular mission organization, but the pastor of the village church promised he would try to get someone from the regional government to come visit and look at the well.

This, however, illustrates yet another reason why Americans should not give money to beggars -- as we were talking about in a previous entry. It creates the impression that Americans are here to give and not to help a person to develop.

TOMORROW'S PLANS

Our large group split up this morning and went into different directions. Steve from Westminster Presbyterian Church in Snellville, Bob from Iowa and I are remaining in Hyderabad. The others are in Calcutta, Bangalore, and other cities. While the others will be in cities, we will be visiting very rural areas, well over an hour's drive from the city. It will be a full day, and I probably won't post anything tomorrow.

On Sunday we will be in churches. Steve and I will visit one church together and will have an opportunity to preach briefly to the congregation.

COMMENTS ON THE BLOG

Thanks to Mike for leaving a comment on the Blog -- you can do that by clicking the word "comment" at the end of an entry. Thanks to Mike, we now understand Indian time.

If I said something and didn't make sense, a comment is a good way to pose a question. Bear with me -- I've had 4 hours sleep last night and like the rest of the folks, very tired!