Go Beyond

Bangladesh | From Dhaka to Dinajpur | 05 August 2010

Traveling from anywhere to anywhere in Bangladesh is an adventure. This morning we hired a driver to take us from Dhaka to our guesthouse in Dinajpur — a city located less than one-hundred miles from the Himalayas. The distance is not long by Texas standards. However, getting from one place to another in this tiny country is a slow process. No matter where you go, drivers compete against one another to gain any advantage on narrow and congested roads. Traveling on these roads involves knowing how to play the game of chicken with on-coming traffic. The only rule is that drivers must default to their left — something they usually do at the last possible second. But somehow, the chaos works out with only occasional fender-benders. Our journey to Dinajpur took nine hours, including a short break for lunch followed by a lemon-flavored popsicle-type treat that was as green as the algae-covered pond next to the restaurant.

I have crisscrossed Bangladesh many times before but I never get tired of the scenery. And, although I am still jet-lagging a bit from my recent trip to India followed by the quick turn-around to Bangladesh, I did manage to stay awake for much of this road trip. The passing scenes are all very familiar to me – vistas of people working in rice fields, people hanging jute out to dry, goods and animals being transported on big trucks and bicycle rickshaws, markets choked with people purchasing ingredients for their next meal, busses and trains packed with passengers inside and out, and more. Bangladesh seems to always be in motion, like a giant ant hill or bee hive. The lack of so many creature comforts keeps people here on their toes. The ceaseless activity of Bangladesh is all about survival. In this country if you don’t work you are not likely to eat.

I still have a difficult time with the beggars and those whose physical deformities or illnesses have consigned them to living on the streets. When we stopped for fuel along the way, five beggars appeared out of nowhere. One young man approached us, pointed to his withered leg, and then stuck out his open hand with an expectant, almost entitled expression on his face. Over the years of traveling in South Asia I have heard all sorts of advice about what to do when approached by beggars. But, my heart tells me to look for Jesus in the distressing disguises of these broken human beings and then do something to help, even if I just offer a single taka (the name of Bangladesh’s currency). And, if I get it wrong some of the time, that’s ok. I would rather err on the side of helping. The answers are never black and white when you look into the eyes of the poor. I don’t live in their world and cannot comprehend the difference a few taka might make.

Finally, as the sun was rushing off to meet the distant horizon, we arrived at our guesthouse. Tired and hot, we unpacked our gear and went to our rooms. I spend lots of time living out of a suitcase and spend many nights in dingy and lonely little rooms in some of the most off-the-beaten-path kind of places on the planet. But for me, there is something strangely comforting about being able to settle in for the night in my corner of a room. I see these places as my temporary little pieces of home as I work to do my part to advance God’s purposes in the world. Today I feel fortunate that my corner of the room is in a guesthouse operated by Christians. Gil, my friend who is traveling with me, commented on how meeting Christians in other parts of the world can make any place feel more like home. He is right. Tonight we are staying with family members we have met for the first time in a guesthouse somewhere outside of Dinajpur.

Dhaka, Bangladesh 

Gil and I arrived in Dhaka a few minutes before nine o’clock this morning. Overcast skies concealed the fertile landscape as we began our descent into Bangladesh. But, once we broke through the cloud cover Dhaka’s sprawling and palm-tree accented vista came into view. We bounced once onto the tarmac and then rolled smoothly to the terminal building. My old friend Mortuza was there to meet us. Over the years, Mortuza and I have traveled together throughout the country. In 2003 we spent a week on a boat and visited remote villages along the Brahmaputra River. It was an unforgettable adventure and one that strengthened our friendship as we dealt with many difficult challenges along the river. Mortuza will once again serve as our guide as we visit with many of our friends here who are committed to advancing the interests of God’s kingdom. 

A couple of months before coming to Bangladesh I became interested in a new survival program on the Discovery Channel. The program is entitled “Dual Survival” and is co-hosted by Cody Lundin and Dave Canterbury – both of whom are survival experts. As with other programs in this genre, Cody and Dave show viewers how to survive in a variety of difficult and hostile environments. One thing that is especially interesting about this program is that Cody, a minimalist and primitive skills expert, does not wear shoes. In fact, he has not worn shoes in more than twenty years – a testimony to his indigenous self-reliant and minimalist philosophy. As a result, Cody has developed a set of very tough feet. In one episode he explained the benefit of not wearing shoes. Cody said that going barefoot has forced him to slow down and to look at and appreciate his surroundings a little more intentionally. 

Gil and Mortuza

 I am not suggesting that Gil or I intend on traveling in our bare feet over the coming days. But, we will be forced to slow down. Nothing moves fast in Bangladesh. Streets are so congested with traffic that whether you are in a vehicle or on foot, you are forced to look at the things around you a little more intentionally. This afternoon we set off for our first meeting on foot and then returned to our hotel by rickshaw. When you travel at a pace this slow you can’t help but notice what’s going on around you. The streets of Dhaka are as congested by humanity as by vehicles. As you walk or meander through the traffic on a rickshaw, every sense becomes engaged in the experience. Regardless of which way you look, the sights are stimulating. The smells are interesting and sometimes overpowering. The cacophony produced by horns and rickshaw bells and squealing brakes and people talking or bargaining on the sidewalks can leave your ears feeling a bit raw. And, when you travel slowly, you will feel the touch of beggars reaching out to you in the hope of receiving something to help them survive another day. 

Returning to places like Dhaka reminds me that we tend travel too fast. We are generally so focused on getting from point A to point B that we seldom notice the things that are happening around us. When we travel fast we usually just use the senses of sight and sound. We don’t have time to smell the roses much less anything else. And, our haste keeps us a safe distance from feeling the touch of people in need and from being able to touch people in need. It’s hard to embrace someone or to touch their heart with an encouraging word when we move through daily life so quickly. So, take off your shoes this week and wiggle your toes. Slow down a bit and ask God to help you engage and connect with those around you. Look at people more clearly, listen to them more intently, and respond to them more compassionately.

Dubai en route to Dhaka, Bangladesh

Sunday was a great day at Kingsland as we celebrated how God used seven student mission teams to bless others from Houston’s inner city neighborhoods to the slums of Kolkata. Our student ministry pastors do an outstanding job of preparing our students to serve others around the world. This past month more than three-hundred and fifty Kingsland students and sponsors ventured out to connect with the homeless, the hurting, and those hungering for meaning in life. God did some wonderful things through our students. Our team members made a difference and returned home different – changed for the better as a result of having served others.

At the conclusion of each service, Pastor Alex challenged us to do more than give our students a courtesy handclap. He challenged us to follow their example by participating in a Sunday evening prayer walk. His challenge was simple. First, start at your own front door and pray for those nearest and dearest to you. Second, step out of your front door and pray for your neighbors. Walk the sidewalks of your neighborhood and pray for each home along your path. Prayer-walking is simply defined as praying on-site with insight. Walking slowly helps us to notice the things we easily overlook in our day to day haste. And, the things we see can give us clues or insight into how to pray for each home. Finally, Pastor Alex challenged us to conclude our prayer walk by praying for the nations.

We must become more intentional about praying for those who are nearest and dearest to us, our neighbors, and the nations. Dino Rizzo coined a phrase I like – “peripheral compassion.” In his book entitled “Servolution: Starting a Church Revolution through Serving,” Rizzo defines peripheral compassion as “the capacity to reach out and envelop the multitudes while noticing the tiniest need.” Peripheral compassion “is one of my favorite qualities I see in Jesus,” writes Rizzo, “and one I have always wanted to emulate.” Like Rizzo, we should all strive to emulate this quality. We need to intentionally work on sharpening our peripheral vision because unless we first see what’s there we will never be moved to respond compassionately. And, in order to see what’s there we must walk slowly among the people. When it comes to noticing what’s going on in the lives of those around us, haste indeed makes waste. So, we need to slow down and see things in focus.

Mark recorded an account of a miracle that Jesus performed in two stages (Mark 8:22-26). A blind man was brought to Jesus at Bethsaida. Jesus took the man aside, spit on his eyes and laid hands on him, and then asked him if he could see anything. The man replied that he could see men, but they looked like trees walking about — an indication that his sight was blurry. Jesus laid His hands on the man’s eyes a second time and, as a result, the man could see everything clearly. Jesus could have healed the blind man with one touch but chose to touch the man a second time. Perhaps He did so to remind us that insight often comes slowly. Most of us move through life so fast that the people around us look like trees walking about. That’s why we should slow down and ask Jesus to touch our eyes a second time. Only then will we see others clearly, gain greater insight, and sharpen our peripheral compassion.

My friend Gil and I will arrive in Dhaka tomorrow morning. We will meet with several of my good friends – all nationals who care deeply about their people. After our meetings in Dhaka, we will head for the villages and walk slowly among the people. I love the people of Bangladesh and I always enjoy walking slowly among the people in the villages. My prayer is that God will reveal specific needs that we can address through prayer and compassionate acts of kindness. And, I pray that each of us will accept Pastor Alex’s challenge to live with greater awareness about what is happening in our homes, our neighborhoods, and our world and then respond intentionally and compassionately as Jesus would. Gil and I are determined to do just that over the coming days in Bangladesh.

I am headed back to Bangladesh on Sunday accompanied by my friend Gil. I first considered going to Bangladesh in 1998 while traveling by train from UlanBator, Mongolia to Beijing, China. As the train made its way south across the vast expanse of the Gobi Desert, my heart and mind were trekking across Asia Minor with the Apostle Paul and his companions. Absorbed in Luke’s account of the birth and expansion of the early church, I knew that God wanted me to join Him on mission in the Muslim world. My friend Lee Pullin and I spent considerable time talking about how such a conviction might become a reality. We both felt drawn to the 10/40 Window — home to the world’s least reached peoples. That night, as I listened to the wheels of the train marking time against the tracks, my heart arrived in Bangladesh. The next morning we arrived in Beijing.

Soon after returning home from Mongolia, I read about devastating floods in Bangladesh that had killed thousands and displaced millions. I found myself captivated by the haunting images of the dead and the living as I sat in the comfort of my home. What made these images even more haunting was the realization that out of the thousands who died in the flood waters, relatively few had the opportunity to hear and respond to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I could not help but reflect on the geography of it all. The geography of my birthplace made it possible for me to have access to the gospel — but, not so for those born in Bangladesh. Geography really is a matter of life and death in this overpopulated country — not only physically, but spiritually as well.

A year after my journey across the Gobi, I finally arrived in Bangladesh. This tiny country is nestled next to India at the very northern part of the Bay of Bengal — an area prone to natural disasters. Bangladesh is home to the third largest concentration of Muslims in the world. The majority of the Muslims in the country are Sunnis, although there is a small Shiite community. Bengali Muslims are the largest unreached people group in the world. On my first visit, I had the opportunity to story the Bible for six Muslim-background believers. Each of these new believers had experienced physical abuse and social alienation because of his faith in Christ. Yet, each of these men was determined to grow in his understanding of the Bible and to develop an apologetic that would enable him to more effectively share his new-found faith.

I returned to Bangladesh less than a year later to search of a man of peace — an approach to evangelism initiated by Jesus when He sent out the seventy-two to preach the good news. Jesus instructed them, “When you enter a house, first say, ‘Peace to this house.’ If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you…” (Luke 10:5-7, NIV). I must admit that it was a bit unnerving as we set out — not knowing where we would sleep and eat or what the day might hold. But, within the hour we had the opportunity to share the gospel with a Bengali man. Within minutes a large crowd gathered around to listen to the conversation. We spoke to people throughout the day and estimate that at least one hundred Bengalis heard the gospel for the very first time. A short time later we met a man of peace who invited us to his home.

The following day we met two men who had heard that we were in the area. Although these men had heard about Jesus, they told us that they had been waiting for four years for someone to come and explain to them more fully the story of Jesus. We had the wonderful opportunity of sharing the gospel with these men as well as with a larger audience of their relatives and friends. As a result of our visit to that village, more than one-hundred men and women placed their faith in Christ for salvation. In the days to follow we continued to meet and share with many people eager to learn more about Jesus Christ.

God loves the people of Bangladesh. And, because they are important to God, they are important to me. In the years since my first visit, I have mobilized teams to test water wells for arsenic content and to travel to remote villages by land and water. Kingsland has provided disaster relief funds as well as money for new water wells. The people of Bangladesh are good people deserving of practical demonstrations of God’s love and concern for them. I am looking forward to returning and reuniting with several of the good friends that I have met there on my many visits over the years. God is using these friends to make a big difference in this small country.

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