No planning required

There is such comfort in hearing God speak. The bonus of having him speak in a way that can’t be explained by human means (see last week’s article) and give precise direction is all the more comforting. The instruction had been to go to a central Asian country that I had never even heard of. I must confess that there was some fear. It was my first venture into a country where Christianity is illegal and the preaching of it punishable by imprisonment.

As the plane took off from Roanoke, uncertainty began to creep in. Playing a game of mental gymnastics, I tried to explain the direction I had received in some way other than "God had spoken." If I’m being honest I would also reveal that I had no real plan. I knew that I was going to help begin work among a village of Jewish people who had been tucked away in the mountains of this Muslim country for centuries. God had used their isolation to protect them from Nazis and later from Communists -- and now from Muslims. I knew where I was going and what I was to do but had no clue how this was going to happen.

The only plan was that the American who was traveling with me and I would precede four friends who are Jewish themselves and have embraced Jesus as Messiah. They would meet us there so that, in my thinking, we would not arrive in customs at the same time and would hopefully avoid questioning by immigration officials. Beyond that, there was no plan other than to be obedient and go.

We met inside the country. It was a moment of quiet celebration and excitement. They are good friends who live in Ukraine and seeing them is always joyful. This passed quickly as the question began to arise: What are we going to do? I found that nobody knew. There was one of us -- Oleg is his name -- who at least knew the next step. He had called an old acquaintance and arranged for transportation from the airport. We left with great purpose, knowing what we were doing for at least the next 10 minutes and 500 yards of the journey.

As we all gathered in the van, the driver asked a logical question, “Where to?” The six of us must have looked like deer in headlights as we blankly stared back not having an answer.

Then, the driver asked the million-dollar question. From my perspective, there was a touch of strain in his voice. “What are you guys doing here?” That was a question we could answer. We may not have known “how” but we did know “what.” “Oh,” my friend Oleg replied, “that part is easy, we have come to begin a ministry or congregation among the Jewish people who live in the mountains.”

There was an awkward silence that felt like when someone blurts out or does something inappropriate during a serious part of a church service. The silence lingered. I was unable to interpret it. The driver seemed to be struggling and his face was white as snow. I began to enjoy the silence, realizing this was getting interesting.

The driver began to explain his reaction. He told us of the Jewish village we were to visit. He said non-Jews were not allowed to spend the night there. He helped us understand that many of the people there were of a Tat persuasion. It became clear that working there and accomplishing anything would require someone of a Jewish persuasion who was also Tat.

Then the driver said, “There are only a very few (a number in the single digits) known Tat converts to Christianity.” He paused and said, “and two of them are my sisters and one of them is me. I am also of a Jewish background.” Beyond all this he told us, “God has called me to start a congregation in that very place.”

God had done what no mission or church could do. At the same time he was giving me direction to go. He was also giving instruction to the one of only a very few people in the entire world who could be effective in that place to join me there. God had also brought us all together within15 minutes of our arrival in that country. There was no plan that could come out of a church committee meeting that would work. Instead faith and obedience proved to be the only effective avenue. I have wondered since if sometimes, not always obviously, our planning is a substitute of sort. A crutch we use when faith and obedience is what is really being called for. In other words, the “chicken” way out. Is that possible?

Since this experience, I also find myself asking why in the West we seem to make Christianity so complex. Why the creation of traditions and rules that make the simplicity of following Jesus in faith and obedience so complex. Jesus was about simplicity in our faith in him. When the “church guys” of his day made it complex, he became angry and threw tables around in the synagogue.

I wonder, “do our traditions and man made systems of rules create a faith where we ourselves become central rather than him?”