Go Beyond

Islamabad, Pakistan

The day after I arrived in Islamabad last week I visited with the president of the Zarephath Bible Institute in Rawalpindi. Over the past twenty-five years, this institution has equipped hundreds of Pakistani nationals to advance God’s purposes in Pakistan. Theological education of national workers is essential to advancing the interests of God’s kingdom throughout the 10/40 Window. I am a firm believer that sound doctrine is the best antidote to false doctrine. Over the coming months, Kingsland’s missions ministry will invest funds to add two-thousand volumes to ZBI’s theological library. These volumes, along with those they already own, will make the theological library at ZBI one of the largest in South Asia. While at the institute I also had the privilege of speaking to the faculty and students at their chapel service. As a result I received an invitation to speak on Sunday at the fastest growing Pentecostal church in Pakistan.

Later in the week I received a phone call informing me that the church where I would speak was celebrating their sixth anniversary on Sunday. “You should be prepared to say something about this when you speak,” said the caller. No problem. I learned a long time ago to be prepared for things like this. An ex-pat friend who is visiting Islamabad accompanied me to the service. I really did not know what to expect in terms of numbers but was pleasantly surprised to find a packed house when we arrived. The service started at 10:00 AM and ended sometime after 2:00 PM. Wow! What an incredible high-energy service. I love opportunities like this because they remind me of what it will be like when the redeemed “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9) are assembled around the throne of God.

Immediately after the service, I was approached by several people who asked for prayer for healing. These are individuals who either do not have access to medical care or cannot afford it but who know that they can rely upon God to help and heal them. It was a privilege to intercede for each of these precious souls. The pastor and his staff then invited us to join them for lunch. This gave us an opportunity to hear more of the remarkable story of the growth of this six-year old church. My ex-pat friend asked the senior pastor this question: “How do you stay humble in light of the fact that you are experiencing remarkable growth at a time when Christians are persecuted and churches burned in Pakistan?” The pastor smiled and replied that he and his staff do three things to keep things in proper perspective and to not think more highly of themselves than they ought. First, they pray together. Second, they observe periods of fasting together. And third, they clean the toilets at the church in preparation for each service. This is a task that the pastor has reserved for himself and his staff.

Three years ago I met with a young minister from another church in our community. In the course of our conversation he said, “I know I will experience lots of failures in ministry and in life. But, I want to know how to handle the successes. How can a person remain humble when things are going great?” My reply — “Write lots of thank you notes!” I write thank you notes almost every week because I never want to forget the people who make it possible for our missions ministry to do so many wonderful things around the world. But, writing thank you notes somewhat pales by comparison to cleaning toilets as a means to remain humble and focused on God. I was both inspired and convicted by the pastor’s answer. Pardon the pun, but cleaning toilets is an excellent way to flush away the pride that can easily accumulate in our hearts. Those of us who serve churches in America can learn something from our Pakistani brethren. In a day when people with titles feel entitled we need more people willing to clean toilets.

North West Frontier Province | Pakistan

Today, a friend and I ventured by motorcycle into the foothills of the Himalayas to see his work among Hindko-speaking Muslims in Pakistan’s North West Frontier Province. The scenery in this part of Pakistan is absolutely spectacular, offering magnificent and breath-taking vistas that seem to go on forever. We stopped along the way to enjoy some conversation, cups of hot chai, and deep fried potatoes. Our chai break was interrupted by sudden gusts of high winds and rain that forced us to briefly huddle for warmth, along with a few locals, near the chai-maker’s fire. The sudden drop in temperature gave me a slight hint of what it must be like here in winter. As soon as the rain stopped we continued our journey higher into the hills until we finally arrived at our remote destination.

Our Hindko friend at the site of the mountain spring.

Our Hindko host, a slender man dressed in a gray shalwar kameez, smiled when he saw us coming. He greeted us with a handshake and a kindly-spoken As-Salaam Alaaikum. Weeks earlier, my friend had arranged for a water-well to be drilled into the steep slope behind this man’s home. Access to clean drinking water is a problem for the people who live in these hills, resulting in various health and malnutrition problems. Prior to the drilling of the new water well, the only source of water for the people of this area was a slow, seeping spring located higher up the mountain at the base of the gnarled roots of a massive tree. My friend told me that this spring is unreliable and that local families had an assigned hour to get their water from the spring. Each family was responsible for only accessing water at their assigned time, regardless of how inconvenient the hour. This was to ensure that each family could at least meet their basic water needs.

Things are different now. Families no longer need to queue up at certain hours of the day or night in order to get their water. They can now fill their water jugs as often and whenever they like at the new well. And, because they no longer need to make the long hike up the mountain to the spring, they have more discretionary time for other things. Our mountain-dwelling Muslim friend was overflowing with gratitude. At a time when Florida Pastor Terry Jones chose to burn a Qur’an, a profoundly stupid act that has resulted in the deaths of innocent people in Afghanistan and the persecution of Christians in Pakistan, my friend found favor among Muslims in the foothills of the Himalayas because he chose to demonstrate God’s love to them through a practical act of kindness. The people who live in this mountain village will always remember the kindness of this Christ-follower and will always welcome him into their homes to share a cup of chai and conversation.

Less than 1% of the Hindko are followers of Christ. Men like Terry Jones will never compel gentle people like the Hindko to come to Christ. His actions will only make it harder for them to do so. I find it ironic that a gun-toting man who has excelled at building walls of hate is the pastor of a church called the Dove World Outreach Center — a total oxymoron. Burning Qur’ans is what ignorant and lazy people do. It takes a person filled with the love of Christ to build the kinds of relationships over which the gospel can travel in order to transform the lives of those, like the Hindko, who have little or no access to the gospel. That’s hard work! But, if taking the time to build relationships with Muslims is what it will take to open doors for the gospel, then I choose to do things the hard way. After all, what is at stake here is the eternal welfare of men and women and children created in the image of God and deserving of the opportunity to hear and respond to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

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Note: For the record, I find the actions of the Muslim clerics who incited persecution of Christians and the rioting that resulted in the deaths of innocent people to be contemptible. Like Jones, their actions hurt rather than help to promote understanding. Desperate people generally resort to argumentum ad baculum when their heads and hearts are empty.

Rawalpindi, Pakistan

A young Gujjar girl.

Today, I accompanied my Peruvian friend Emily, and two young ladies who assist her, to see her literacy work among the Gujjars. The Gujjars are a gypsy-like people group that are scattered from the Himalayas to regions in Afghanistan and Pakistan. They practice Islam and there are few, if any, followers of Christ among them. Fifteen months ago, Emily connected with a group of Gujjars squatting on government land on the outskirts of Rawalpindi. They live in crudely constructed houses without electricity or running water and eke out a subsistence living. Life is hard for these Gujjar squatters and for their children. Emily discovered that they do not send their children to school. Instead, the Gujjars depend on their children to assist with chores and to help tend animals. However, without an education not much will change for these children.

Emily encountered numerous challenges when she started her work among the Gujjars. Initially, the Gujjar leaders objected to their children receiving instruction from a Christian woman. Then, she found that many families discouraged their kids from learning how to read and write, choosing instead to have their kids help with numerous daily chores. However, Emily did not lose heart and her persistence eventually paid off. Five days a week for the past fifteen months she has patiently taught her Gujjar students how to do math and how to read and write Urdu. She carries all of her school supplies in a red laundry basket and sets up her outdoor classroom every morning. When she arrives, the Gujjar kids flock to embrace her and sit with legs crossed on a large woven mat as she begins the day’s lesson.

Gujjar boy doing his math lesson.

This morning was Emily’s last day among the Gujjars before she returns to the States. It was an emotional day for her because she has made incredible progress with the kids but there is no one to replace her. I watched with amazement as her kids did their math and writing lessons. Fifteen months ago most of these kids had never held a pencil in their hands or ever written their own names. They are smart kids. All they lacked was opportunity. As I watched the interaction between Emily and the kids I prayed that God would send another teacher to continue the good work that she started here. The folks in this little village no longer fear having a Christ-follower working among them because of the example and kindness of Emily. I don’t know who will replace her, but I believe that they will never forget her. Emily brought more than school supplies in her red laundry basket — she brought hope to children who are living for a season on the outskirts of Rawalpindi near the foothills of the Himalayas.

Islamabad, Pakistan

Yesterday I joined some friends who are working among the poor in a squatters’ village called Muskeen. This particular village is comprised of approximately four-hundred Christian families who live huddled together in piecemeal squalor. Raw sewage finds paths of least resistance in the narrow and littered paths between squalid hovels. Children caked with dirt entertain themselves on these paths or on top of the crudely constructed houses. Because these squatters do not own the land, they live with the ever-impending possibility that they will be forced out by the local government. But, in spite of that, they stubbornly cling to this tiny piece of geography called Muskeen. This is home to them, at least for a season.

One of my friends invited me to walk with him to a neighboring high rise apartment building in order for me to get a bird’s-eye view of Muskeen. So, we made our way through the maze of narrow paths until we emerged on the side opposite of the Margalla Hills. Then we trudged up ten flights of stairs to the parapet-ringed rooftop of the building. From there we could see the entire squatters’ village and the people who live there. Toward the Margalla Hills are the skeletal frames of three incomplete high-rise luxury apartment buildings. It seems that the Dubai-based builder failed to count the cost of constructing three buildings at the same time. And, from our lofty perch we could also identify the location of schools, parks, and other districts in Islamabad. Muskeen was visibly the blight (not bright) spot in the area.

While talking with my friend on the rooftop, a young man approached us with two cold glasses or orange Fanta. He identified himself as a resident of the building. “I am Muslim,” he said, “and I know several Christians in the squatters’ village.” He went on to tell us that as a Muslim he was concerned that many of the Christian children were not attending school. He also affirmed that he cared about the welfare of his Christian neighbors in the village. He asked us to not believe all that we hear and see in the media regarding Muslims in Pakistan. “We are not all like that,” he said in a soft but serious tone. “Christians and Muslims in Pakistan can and should live peacefully side by side.” Sadly, his idealism is betrayed by the recent assassination of Shahbaz Bhatti, the minority Christian cabinet member, and by the persecution and killing of Christians in protest of the actions of the looney Qu’ran-burning pastor in Florida.

In spite of how Christians have suffered in Pakistan, I appreciate the kindness and hospitality of our rooftop host. And, I appreciate his lofty thoughts about Muslims and Christians treating one another with respect. Idealism aside, looking at one another in the face is a good starting place toward understanding our neighbors and those whose worldview differs from our own. It’s hard to make progress toward understanding others when we build walls by burning Qu’rans (and Bibles) and killing people just because they happen to embrace a different faith. As a Christ-follower I choose to follow the example of Jesus who never took the life of another, who was always concerned about the welfare of others, and who issued this charge: “love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark. 12:31). These are indeed lofty thoughts and ideals worth pursuing, whether you are a Christian or a Muslim.