Go Beyond

Amman, Jordan

To say that we have met some remarkable families this week would be an understatement. After a week of visiting Christian families from Iraq who suffered unimaginable losses at the hands of ISIS, we are all a bit emotionally exhausted. And yet, we are also encouraged because of the resilience and determination of these families to move on with their lives. They know that their homeland will never be what it was before ISIS moved in their direction. “ISIS,” one man said, “has set my country back hundreds of years.”

This morning we visited with a family that is happy to be in a safe place in spite of all they lost. In Iraq, they owned a grocery store, some land, and had just completed construction of their dream home. They had just moved in to their new home, the dad told us, when ISIS moved in to their town. As with so many other Christian families, they chose to lose everything rather than deny their faith in Christ. They walked away from all of their material possessions taking with them only the clothes on their backs and the faith in their hearts.

As we sipped on small cups of strong coffee, the dad related another version of the same terrible stories we have heard all week. He talked about the violent persecution of Yazidis, one of Iraq’s oldest minorities, by ISIS. Thousands of Yazidi women and girls have been kidnapped by ISIS and sold as slaves for as little twenty-five US dollars. He told us that he especially feared what might happen to his own wife and daughter at the hands of these heartless thugs.

And then this strong man with a soft-spoken voice said something that caused all of us to lean forward. “We forgive ISIS,” he said, “and we pray for them daily.” He said that he knows that his family will never recover any of the material riches they lost but that they will never lose their faith. “When we left our home,” he continued, “we carried high the cross of Christ.” Although they are starting again with nothing, he is not worried and knows that the Christ they love will care and provide for them.

As we continued our conversation, the man’s words — “We forgive ISIS” — echoed through every chamber of my heart. I leaned over to my friend Jamal and whispered, “This man has graduate level faith.” When you listen to a man like this say words like those you are forced to examine your own heart. I want to have that kind of faith.

As I thought about this man’s sincere confession of forgiving those who had turned the life of his family upside down, I reflected on how often people who have suffered petty-by-comparison-kind-of-stuff are unwilling to forgive. Some prefer to hold on to their hurts rather than forgive and experience healing. Graduate level faith is not easy to come by. We can never hope to reach that level of maturity if we refuse to forgive those who trespass against us. Jesus, after all, instructed us to forgive even when doing so is difficult.

Our team came to Jordan to bless and encourage Iraqi Christians displaced by ISIS. In reality, what has happened is that these families have blessed us. They have taught us so much about a deeper faith in Christ — one that has been tested and refined in the crucible of persecution. They have certainly given us all much to think about, especially the next time we stubbornly hold on to stuff that should be forgiven, forsaken, and forgotten.

Amman, Jordan

Taking things for granted — it’s something we all do. The reality is that we often fail to appreciate what we have until it’s gone. The minute we no longer have access to the smallest of the things that make our lives easier, we tend to become nervous and perhaps even a bit frightened. Think back to the last time your home was without power or water and you will understand.

Every displaced Iraqi family that we have visited over the past week has their own painful story of loss. Every one of these families fled their homes in northern Iraq in order to escape the violence of ISIS. And because these families took only a few personal possessions with them, they arrived in the host country of Jordan with very little to their name. Those fortunate enough to find an affordable flat to rent are having to live with very little and on very little.

Yesterday afternoon we visited a family of five living in three small rooms with a combined square footage no bigger than my two-car garage. They have lived in this tiny hovel for almost ten months without a stick of furniture, not even a bed. The family has been sleeping on the floor. To make things even more unbearable they have suffered in the heat without a fan or a refrigerator to cool their water and keep their small supply of food from spoiling.

With a little less than four-hundred dollars, we were able to buy the family four plastic chairs for adults and two for kids, two mattresses, two small plastic tables, two fans, and a refrigerator. These are the first-fruits of what we pray will be the start of their new life outside of Iraq. And, as an added bonus, the kids used the refrigerator box to make a play fort. Cool stuff for kids!

For ten months this family has slept on the floor, depended on the kindness of a shop keeper to cool bottles of water for them, suffered in the heat, and subsisted on foods that require no refrigeration. Today, their quality of life inched forward just a bit — just enough to restore some hope that things will indeed get better as they struggle to rebuild their lives.

This family faces a few additional challenges like getting a roof over their heads — literally. I failed to mention that the small space they rent has no roof, only large scraps of plastic to keep out the elements. But today, that mountain does not look as high as it did a few days ago. They are trusting God to help them put their home together while He heals their hearts and restores their hope. Today, they are taking nothing for granted.

Madaba and Mount Nebo in Jordan

Syrian and Iraqi refugees continue to suffer in silence throughout Jordan — from the Zaatari Refugee Camp along the Jordanian-Syrian border to cities like Amman and Madaba. Most were forced to flee their homes with little warning and arrived in this host country with nothing more than what they were wearing. With scant resources, they have few options for housing. And, as refugees they are not allowed to work and their children do not have access to education, making life even that much harder.

Today, our team headed southwest from Amman to Madaba, the City of Mosaics, to connect with both Syrian and Iraqi refugees. Madaba is in the region of Moab, the ancient land of Ruth. I arranged for our team to make a quick visit to the Greek Orthodox Church of Saint George, a church that dates back to the 6th Century and boasts the oldest cartographic depiction of the Holy Land — an impressive map on the floor of the church made up of more than 1.5 million mosaic tiles.

I’m glad we stopped at this old church that has survived the centuries. The inside of the church is decorated with amazing mosaics that depict some of the great stories of the Bible. Although regional conflicts have raged outside the church through the years, the mosaics inside the church depict Biblical scenes of Jesus and His disciples loving and serving others — something that stands in stark contrast to the worldview of ISIS.

Jesus never took a life and He never instructed His followers to do so. If a Christ-follower takes the life of another, he does so in violation of the commands and example of Jesus. Not so with ISIS whose followers have shown the world nothing but a blatant disregard for the value of human life. The civil conflict in Syria is no different. Life is cheap there as well. Over the past few days families we have visited have shown me photos of dead family members, some of which were extremely graphic. These gruesome portraits of death are evidence of what happens when power and bad theology are mixed together. The result is disastrous!

While in Madaba, we took a quick detour to visit Mount Nebo, the most revered holy site in Jordan. It was at this place that God had allowed Moses to see the Promised Land that he would not be permitted to enter. As I silently surveyed the magnificent panorama, I thought about the message that Martin Luther King, Jr. preached on April 3, 1968, the night before he was assassinated. His message was entitled “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop.”

King said something in that speech that I thought about as we left Mount Nebo to visit Syrian and Iraqi refugees living in the immediate vicinity of this historic site. He challenged his listeners to “develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness” — like that demonstrated by the Good Samaritan. “The Levite asked, ‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ But the Good Samaritan reversed the question: ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?’ That’s the question before you tonight.”

The mosaics that adorn the walls of the Greek Orthodox Basilica of Saint George and the history of Mount Nebo remind me of a higher vantage point — one that challenges me to see the worth, dignity, and value of other human beings. This higher vantage point motivates me to serve others as Jesus did and spurs me on to develop a dangerous unselfishness, one that regards others as more important than myself. That’s a worldview that can make our world a better and safer place for every member of the human race.