Everything, in a Random and Roundabout Manner, Leads to Death

I talk to myself. A lot.

Shocking, I know.

Sometimes, I'm writing a book in my head, and I need to say it out loud to see if the dialogue is stupid. It usually is.

More often than not, I'm creating scenarios and figuring out how I would respond in a given situation.

Because I have traveled overseas, and because I am a Christian, a lot of those scenarios deal with being kidnapped or martyred or tortured.

Do I overthink things? Yes. Yes, I do.

Here's the thing, though. It's easy to plan for the big moments. (It's less easy to execute said plans. But I have a plan for that!) It is not so easy to plan for the small moments.

Think about it. You're in front of the Roman emperor or his proxy, and you're told to deny your faith or die. That's a big moment. It's obvious. You can plan for that moment.

But maybe you're with a friend. And the friend tells an off-color joke. No substance to it whatsoever. No redeeming quality to the vulgarity. But it's kinda funny. Can you plan for those moments?

When I was much younger, I thought a lot about martyrdom. (I had just read Foxe's Book of Martyrs. Can you really blame me?) And because I did not yet fully understand the difference between saved by grace and saved by works, I considered martyrdom to be the only surefire way to prove that I was a good Christian. I mean, dying for Jesus? That's gold.

My thinking has evolved since then, thankfully. But the idea of martyrdom has stuck with me, especially since becoming a missionary. Then this morning, OMS President Bob Fetherlin gave this message. (Go ahead. Listen to it. I'll wait.)

And everything clicked.

The Christian life may indeed end in the type of martyrdom we all know and love. But even before that point, life is a series of martyrdoms. It has to be.

That's ultimately how you can plan for the small moments. If you are continuously dying to self, denying your need to be right, relinquishing your pride, all in the pursuit of being more like Jesus, you will be a martyr - maybe not in the way it is now understood, but definitely at its heart as a witness for Jesus Christ.

See, the word martyr comes from the Greek martur. It means witness.

We should all be martyrs. We should all be witnesses of Jesus.

And whatever death that martyrdom ultimately leads to - death to self or death by opponents of Christ - it will always lead us straight to the arms of Jesus.

And that is always a good thing. 

The Humorous Chesterton

"I believe firmly in the value of all vulgar notions, especially vulgar jokes. When once you have got hold of a vulgar joke, you may be certain that you have got hold of a subtle and spiritual idea. The men who made the joke saw something deep which they could not express except by something sully and emphatic. They saw something delicate which they could only express by something indelicate." - G.K. Chesterton

I have always liked this quote. I'm not sure I could tell you all the reasons why. It's very twisty.

But G.K. and I had something in common. We both overanalyze everything.

G wrote this in his short story "Cockneys and their Jokes." He's responding the charge of not being a Cockney humorist. What is a humorist? Honestly, I'm not sure G explained it, though he took great pains to explain that, while he agreed he probably wasn't a humorist, he was most definitely Cockney, jerkface. Anyway, a humorist is someone who is skillful in the use of humor, whether it be written, spoken, or acted.

See, Chesterton knew that most people really don't understand humor. What makes one person laugh may not even crack a smile on someone else. Apparently a friend of Chesterton named Mr. Beerbohm put the things that made people laugh into three categories: "jokes about bodily humiliation, jokes about things alien, such as foreigners, and jokes about bad cheese." 

That, in itself, is hilarious. 

But G wanted to delve deeper into why we laugh at certain things. We don't laugh at someone's true misfortune. But we do laugh when a bird suddenly doodoos on someone's head. We don't laugh at leaves falling. That's what they do. But leaves falling and sticking to someone's forehead is funny. Or at least amusing. 

So what exactly is G saying above? It's not enough to be haha funny. You also have to be a little bit vulgar. 

So what does he mean by vulgar? Not obscene, as the word is used today. To be vulgar means to be unrefined or common. If you aren't willing to get your feet a little dirty, you'll never understand true humor. 

A good joke, G.K. would say, is one that deals with the Dual Nature of Man. As he says, it "refer[s] to the primary paradox that man is superior to all the things around him and yet is at their mercy." We laugh at something because it works against the reality of how things are supposed to work. 

It goes deeper than that, though. Sometimes, we can't explain something higher without using more common language. In fact, in order to explain some things, we need to first (or at some point) explain their opposite. It's impossible to fully understand light without having some notion of dark. We understand hate because it is an absence of love. 

I don't know why I keep trying to explain this. G-diddy said it best:

"As a matter of fact, it will be generally found that the popular joke is not true to the letter, but is true to the spirit. The vulgar joke is generally in the oddest way the truth and yet not the fact. For instance, it is not in the least true that mothers-in-law are as a class oppressive and intolerable; most of them are both devoted and useful. All the mothers-in-law I have ever had were admirable. Yet the legend of the comic papers is profoundly true. It draws attention to the fact that it is much harder to be a nice mother-in-law than to be nice in any other conceivable relation of life. The caricatures have drawn the worst mother-in-law a monster, by way of expressing the fact that the best mother-in-law is a problem."

I've said it before. I'll keep saying it. 

I will take truth from whomever and wherever I find it. 

There are some amazing messages to be found in R-rated films. I can find Truth in an Eminem song. 

And those may be exceptions to the rule. I'm not going to tell you to consume all of the truly awful stuff just for one nugget of Truth. Some stuff out there is truly not worth the film or paper on which it is printed. 

But do recognize that not all vulgarity is necessarily bad. Sometimes it can be necessary to be a little vulgar in order to find a pearl. 

But I don't know. What do you think?

(There will be a follow-up post about this as soon as I get around to writing it.)

Expecting the Unexpected

When we send missionaries around the world, there are certain things we expect to happen.

We expect them to share the Gospel. We expect them to teach English or give out tracts or teach school. We expect them to plant churches and raise their families and have good relationships with other mission agencies. Occasionally, we expect them to deal with resistance from the government or neighbors or fringe groups.

We do not expect them to suddenly be in the middle of a war.

We do not expect them to suddenly have thousands of refugees on their doorstep.

We do not expect them to suddenly evacuate because of a giant tsunami.

These are all things that could happen anywhere. And in the back of our minds, we sort of understand that. And we maybe have 12% of a plan if something did happen. (Unless it's zombies. Our plan then is to find the nearest teenager and follow their very detailed plan.)

But it's different when you're not home. At home, you have a support system, you have friends and family, you understand the context and the history and the culture.

As a field missionary, you very deliberately do not have these things.

So it might be understandable that, when faced with things we don't expect, we may hesitate or panic because there is no plan.

Except, consistently, missionaries don't do that.

For the last year and more, our missionaries in Ukraine have been in a war zone. They have concerns, but even when it looked like we might need to bring them home, they asked to stay. Because people still need Jesus.

Monday, we Skyped a missionary who was literally in the field at a refugee camp in Hungary. They had very few resources to deal with thousands of refugees. They will see these people for maybe ten minutes or an hour. They do not speak their language. But they are giving them everything they have. Because these people need Jesus.

Back in 2011, a tsunami swept across the coast of Japan. Most of our missionaries were on a retreat in the mountains. But almost immediately, they started taking supplies to those who were left. Years later, when a lot of organizations have pulled out, our missionaries are still serving. Because people still need Jesus.

Nowhere in any of these missionaries' job descriptions does it say anything about war, refugees, or floods. But they never hesitate. If they panic, they hide it pretty well. They just do what Christians anywhere should do.

They be the hands and feet of Jesus.

How awesome is that?

Tomorrow

Tomorrow will be hard. It's hard every year.

For the most part, I'll be avoiding social media, the news, anything that might acknowledge the significance of the day.

It's not that I don't want to be reminded. Although it still feels like a punch in the chest when I am.

It's that I don't want to be desensitized. I don't want the day to become less than what it is.

So if I'm quieter than normal, you'll know why. I'm thinking about a day that changed everything. I'm thinking about people who started the day expecting normal, and ended the day before the sun ever set, some having no idea what had happened, and some who knew without a doubt that they would never see their children, parents, siblings, spouse, loved ones again. I'm thinking about the people who did what they've always done - answered the call, served and protected, gave their all.

And I'm holding my breath. Because anniversaries tend to spawn all kinds of things. 

Still a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

All right, so yesterday was self-indulgent and stupid. I let things get the better of me. It'll happen again, but I'll try not to be so melodramatic about it.

Let's talk about something important.

The world has gone mad.

In the States, we're two steps away from electing a bombast (fill in the blank with your least favorite candidate). Cops and civilians alike are getting killed for no other reason than that they are cops and civilians. 30,000 people are battling wildfires that have killed dozens more. And the trending topic is a feud between Nickel Menace and Wiley Coyote. Or something like that.

In Europe, four million people have fled Syria because the Islamic State doesn't care who it kills as long as there's some kind of murder with breakfast. Millions more have fled other countries for similar reasons. These refugees are drowning or being packed into railway stations or beaten at borders because most of Europe really doesn't want them. And the trending topic is a misting shower designed to keep people cool.

In Asia, at least two countries have passed strict anti-conversion laws. Bombs are going off in major cities. North Korea is puffing its feathers again, and China has decided they want a bigger slice of the pie. Their trending topic is flipping Mel Gibson.

And Latin America? Well, the Guatemalan president has resigned. Ecuador is rounding up religious leaders and putting them in prison. Increased hurricane activity is taxing resources more than ever. Increased violence just about everywhere. And the top video on the BBC Latin America page is about making tacos al pastor in Mexico City.

I could go on. And yes, obviously some people are paying attention and trying to do something.

But even more are burying their heads in the sand.

Every time I watch the news, I think, Surely, this will be it. People can't possibly ignore this. This will be what finally makes them wake up.

Unfortunately, the thing that ends up waking these people up? Will probably be the thing that kills them two seconds later.

Sorry. This was supposed to be more uplifting. So here we go.

THERE IS HOPE!

This is what a world looks like without Jesus. Now imagine a world that knows and loves and follows Jesus.

You know what to do. 

Sometimes...

I'm going to tell you a secret. 

Sometimes...

Sometimes, I don't feel very missionary-y. Sometimes I don't even feel very Christian. 

Sometimes, I'm really annoyed with people. Sometimes, I want to slap people across the face and ask them how they can be so dense. Sometimes, I don't want to give people a chance to hear about Jesus because they have been so utterly stupid and hurtful and deliberately in contradiction with Truth. 

Sometimes, the people I'm annoyed with are fellow Christians. Sometimes they seem so completely disconnected from reality. Sometimes I wonder how we could possibly be serving the same God. 

Sometimes, I'm annoyed with myself. Sometimes I get so annoyed that, for every step forward, I sometimes take two steps backward in my faith. Sometimes I feel so angry with myself because I know how sad I'm making God.

Today is all those times.

Whaddaya know? I'm human.

(I'm reminded of Galatians 6:9. I'm not giving up! I'm just hanging on by fingertips.)