Jesus Is Not Nice

I think I've always pictured Jesus as being nice. He was powerful and spoke into people's lives in a new way but he was still kind and gentle and loving. Those things are true but I've been discovering another side of Jesus these days, the not so nice side.

As I work through Luke with the translators discussing what Jesus taught I am sometimes a little shocked by some of the things Jesus said. I have read these words many times before but never sat down and really thought through all the implications. But at the end of Luke 11 when Jesus is criticizing the religious leaders, he says some really harsh things. Remember he is talking to the Pharisees, respected leaders of the community. He calls them fools and points out exactly how they are missing the important things that God wants. He calls them graves, comparing them to dead decaying bodies that are corrupting the people walking over them. And Jesus says all of this while he is a guest at one of their houses.

In response to that attack on the Pharisees one of the other religious leaders, an expert in the law, points out that Jesus has also insulted the law experts by saying those kinds of things. He probably assumed that Jesus would realize how harsh he had been and apologize. Instead Jesus turns on that expert in the law. He tells him how they crush people with the burdens they place on them. He holds them responsible for the murders of all the prophets that were committed by their ancestors and then tells them they are preventing people from knowing God, the opposite to what they think they are doing.

As I read those verses I thought, wow Jesus what are you doing to that poor guy? He just was pointing out how harsh you were. Maybe you could say the truth to them but in a nicer way. Then I realized that Jesus wasn't concerned about being nice. He wasn't concerned about making everyone happy but about what God wanted. He was concerned that the people who were supposed to be God's representatives, the people who should be showing others the way to God were in fact showing their own way. Lowly servants who should have been following their Lord had in fact slowly taken over ruling, supplanting his wishes with their own. Jesus could not sit back and let this situation continue.

He was still loving and would not have rejected any of them who repented and truly wanted to follow God. He was not being mean or cruel but speaking straight to the heart of the matter with powerful words. And those words stung because they were true. The pride of those religious leaders could not bear to hear that they were doing anything wrong, let alone the graphic descriptions Jesus used.

I am not like Jesus. My culture says it's always good to be nice. Don't offend people, don't upset them, try to get along with everyone. This is ok sometimes but sometimes I think I need to speak the truth boldly, in love without trying to be nice. The words used shouldn't be said out of spite, to provoke, or out of pride but rather out of a genuine desire to draw people back to God. And if people don't think I'm nice anymore, that's ok because Jesus wasn't nice either.

Football (a.k.a soccer)

One of the challenging aspects of living in Musoma is that it is difficult to find good ways to exercise. As the Tanzanians stay fit by walking or cycling places, they do not understand why anyone would go running just for the sake of exercise. Add to that my white skin and I get quite a bit attention if I go running or even walking for that matter. Since there are no gyms in Musoma I am limited to whatever I can do in my living room.

Fortunately, once a week there is a way for me to escape using workout DVD's in my living room. Every Sunday a group of my friends and colleagues get together to play football (or soccer as I would normally call it). When we first began playing the biggest question was where we would play. Although there are various football fields around Musoma they were either in use or a bit too public for our taste. As football is definitely the sport in Tanzania, everyone in the immediate area would join in and our teams would grow large quickly. The other consequence of playing on one of those fields would be the large audience we were guaranteed to attract. Since neither of those situations was conducive to the low-key game we wanted to play, using those fields was not an option.

Right around that time one of my colleagues was clearing a space in his yard that was close to the size we wanted and private as well. Although we started by playing in the dirt, he has put a lot of work into it and made it into a beautiful grassy field with goals at each end.

So every Sunday a group of us come out and play together. Although it is mostly men there are a few of us girls brave enough to join in, including one 12 year old girl. Everyone is welcome and we play for fun, although the competition does heat up sometimes. A few Tanzanians join us as well.

Although I usually end up with bruises after a game I love playing! It's not that I'm really good but it's fun to run and play with people who I normally see in a different situation. We leave our titles and work at the office and are just a group of people having fun together and working off the stress of the last week before another one begins. Besides, where else can you kick your boss in the shins and get away with it?

The Power of God

In one of the villages where we went for our community check I met a man who should not be there. He is a pastor in a small Ikoma village out by the Serengeti. His church is small (see the above picture) and yet God’s power is evident there. He participated in one of the checks we held for Luke 6 & 7 where he, along with a group of other Ikoma speakers, patiently answered all our questions about those chapters.

Afterwards we went to his house where we ate lunch. During the meal he shared the story of how he preached against the local gods, called ‘machaba’. When he first arrived in this village, he began preaching about the true God and that it was not right to worship the machaba. Of course the people who worshipped the machaba were not happy with this and demanded that he leave. These people included the very powerful leaders of the village. However instead of giving in to their pressure he followed the leading of the Holy Spirit and went the area where they performed their rituals for the machaba. There he spent some time praying to God. Now, remember that although the machaba are man-made idols, there is a very real, very evil power behind them and so this threat was not something he faced lightly.

The day came that was his deadline for leaving but he was still there. The leaders of the village showed up at his house, taking him away and telling him they would see who was more powerful, their gods or his God. As they reached the road near his house the leader of that group fell over and died! Clearly the pastor's God was more powerful so they let him go.

On another day the leaders regrouped to discuss how to make this pastor leave. It was early in the morning, around 5am and the pastor was at home. They had gathered under a tree, where they usually met for these matters, probably a sacred place for the machaba. Suddenly out of nowhere fierce men in white armed with long knives of some type came and chased them all away! They didn’t recognize those men and still don’t know who they were. One of the leaders who was there later explained this all to the pastor. After that incident they realized that the God of the pastor was powerful and did not want them to chase the pastor out. So they let him live there in peace. To this day that pastor lives in that village and has a small church he leads, preaching every Sunday about the true God.

It is an amazing thing to witness the power of God. I have seen God’s power demonstrated before but as the pastor shared these stories I saw the reality of the battle that is going on in a whole new way. This is the power that is available to each of us. That pastor is just an ordinary man who listened to God and was willing to obey. Each of us has the same opportunity but are we willing take it?

This pastor is eagerly waiting for the Ikoma translation to be done. He wants the people to have God’s word in their own language so they won’t be deceived by the evil spirits anymore. He wants God’s truth to speak to the hearts of people so it changes their lives. I hope that God will use my small part in the translation process to reveal His power in the lives of those Ikoma people.

No More Flat Tires

I have to confess that I have recently developed a paranoia about getting flat tires. It might have something to do with the fact that within a two week period I had several flat tires. Therefore as we headed out to the village last week I was praying specifically for God to protect the tires. My colleague was driving his land cruiser and we did have have a spare tire along of course but it can be difficult to find a good place to change a tire sometimes. As well if we got more than one flat we would be in trouble.

The trip had gone well with no flats and I was feeling good about the situation. Then on the last evening we went out to an area outside of town to pick up some corn for one of the translators. There was no real road to the place we were going so we bounced along trails and walking paths until we reached a small field completely full of thorn bushes. Basically we would be driving over lots of 2-3 inch thorns. Having personal experience with what those thorns can do to a tire I knew the danger. I didn't see how we could drive over all those thorns and not get a flat.

So I sat in the back seat and prayed for the tires the entire time we drove over the thorns. Maybe it seems trivial to pray for tires but it was getting late and a flat might have meant driving back in the dark. We made it safely to the house where the corn was being kept and loaded up almost 200kg of dried corn. Needless to say the land cruiser was weighed down, putting a lot more stress on the tires. So once again as we drove back over the thorns I was praying constantly. I wasn't the only one praying either. Another colleague who was in the back seat with me said she was praying the whole time as well.

God answered our prayers in an amazing way! We didn't get one flat tire the entire trip! It was definitely a miracle because there just isn't any other explanation for how we could drive over so many large thorns and not get at least one puncture.

I know God would have been with us even if we had gotten a flat tire and yet it was so encouraging to see the way He protected us. Maybe because I've been frustrated with my car getting so many flats I just needed the reminder that God is in control and He does care about things like flat tires.

The Beauty of Translation

Translation truly is an art and I love the process of crafting that I go through with the translators. We take their first draft which they have shaped and molded and try to smooth out some of the bumps and fill in the holes. Although we do examine the details, we have to be careful not to cut it into pieces to dissect or we lose the beauty and meaning of the whole.

Throughout this process I am continually given the opportunity to look at verses through the eyes of the translators. One such time occured when we were looking at Luke 9:1-6. This is the instance where Jesus sends out the 12 disciples to preach the gospel, heal the sick and cast out demons. He tells them not to take anything with them such as a walking stick, a bag, food, money and clothes. Confused the translators looked at me and asked why on earth would Jesus not want them to take these things when they go? Things like walking sticks are especially useful at night in case there are snakes or another dangerous creatures around. It was a good question that I did my best to answer. I explained that Jesus wanted the disciples to trust God to provide what they needed and focus on the work he gave them to do. This was a good reminder to me as well.

As we moved on to verse four more questions arose. Why would Jesus tell the disciples to stay in one house? Were they ever allowed to leave it? Even after realizing that Jesus meant the disciples should return to the same house every evening the translators were still confused. Why would the disciples be so rude as to refuse other invitations to stay with people? Why not share the burden of hospitality by staying one night with one family, another night with another family and so on? At first I didn't know how to answer that question. It did seem reasonable for the disciples to stay with different families. However after a little more research we discovered that Jesus was trying to prevent the disciples from looking for the best place to stay but instead accepting the first invitation that was given.

These are just a couple simple examples of the creative process we go through when we work on a chapter. It's a matter of discovery, of looking at the verses from a new perspective and trying to figure out what the original perspective was. Then creatively coming up with solutions to help readers understand that perspective. The Bible can be complex and difficult to understand but it is also a beautiful work of art.

Should I Swim in the Pool or the Ocean?

During our annual conference held on the coast of Kenya last week, I managed to fit in some time for swimming. There were two choices for swimming, the wild and beautiful Indian Ocean or the calm man-made pool. Most of the time I chose to swim in the pool. The water was clean and cool and perfectly clear. I could see right to the bottom and would leisurely make my way from one end of the pool to the other. It wasn't a large pool and I felt safe playing within its borders.

On the other hand the ocean was the complete opposite of the pool. It was huge, seemingly going on forever. Large waves would break on the sand and wash up piles of seaweed. Swimming in the ocean was a guarantee to come out covered with seaweed and sand. On top of that there were little jellyfish in the water. The one time I ventured into the ocean with some friends, one of my friends got stung by a little bright blue jellyfish that landed on her arm. I narrowly missed another as I quickly made my way back to the safety of shore. After that I stuck to swimming in the pool.

But now I wonder if I missed out by avoiding the ocean. When I did swim in the ocean the warm salty water was fun to float in and I could ride the waves in to shore. And there was something amazing about being a part of something so big that sustains so much life. It reminds me of the way I live my life sometimes. I like things to be clean and clear with very defined borders. Like the safety of the pool I prefer the safety of my life the way it is right now. I know how things work and feel as if I have some measure of control.

However I feel God asking me to leave the safety of the pool and head out into the ocean. There is something big out there that He wants me to be a part of. The thing is, it's messy and dirty and even dangerous out there. I might get stung by a jellyfish or thrown to the bottom by a big wave. I might swallow a mouthful of seawater or scrape my knees on the sand. But when I'm out there, floating on the water, there is nothing more incredible than experiencing the beauty of the ocean that stretches out forever.

It might sound funny to hear a missionary talk about leaving the safety of the pool. Aren't I already out in the ocean living here in Africa serving God? It certainly felt that way when I first arrived in Tanzania. It was difficult enough to just dip my toes in the ocean at the time or maybe even wade out to my knees. But now God wants me to go in further and I'd rather retreat back to the pool. I'm ready to spend some time in the cool safety of the pool instead of facing the waves and the seaweed headed for me.

I don't think it matters where in the world we are or how we are serving God, most of us have felt like this at some point. The idea of facing overwhelming circumstances, painful events or stepping into the unknown where we can't see the bottom is more than we can handle. And yet somehow when we step out in faith we find we are floating in the midst of something bigger and more beautiful than we could have imagined.

Undue Attention

Part of living as a foreigner in another country is all the extra attention you receive. Some attention is great, such as when people make sure the bus doesn't leave without you at one of the stops or when they help you find something you're looking for in the market. At other times it can be frustrating, such as when people call out to you as you are walking out your gate every morning.

However in certain instances, the extra attention becomes a little more complicated and requires careful thought. For example, one day I ran into an Tanzanian man in town who was a friend of a friend. I didn't even recognize him but he recognized me so we chatted for a few minutes. He wanted to come visit me sometime which in and of itself is fine. Unfortunately, I receive many requests from random individuals who would like to be my friend and I simply don't have the time or energy to accommodate them all. Yet at that moment I couldn't think of a nice way to refuse him so I agreed. In the end however, he came over at a time when I wasn't home so that situation seemed to resolve itself.

Then a few weeks later he showed up at the office where I work, wanting my phone number. Once again I handled the situation poorly by giving it to him. So naturally I received a request from him, wanting to visit me this weekend. The question is, how do I tactfully explain that this is not a friendship I want to pursue? I enjoy meeting people and having friends but have learned by experience that friendship with single men in this culture usually leads somewhere that I am not willing to go. So my challenge is to clearly, but with sensitivity, explain that this friendship is not going to progress.

Another situation I'm involved in is a little different because although it also centers around a guy, this one is about 12 years old. Several months ago a young boy was waiting for me at my gate when I arrived home from work. He was shy and didn't say much but spoke to me in English when he did speak. With him saying so little, I couldn't figure out what he wanted. In the following weeks he would periodically stop by my house after work, wanting to talk to me. However he still couldn't look me in the face or say very much so he started writing me letters. One letter described his dream to go to America, leading me to believe he saw me as his ticket to get there. I told him I would pray for him and left it at that.

After my four month absence while I was in Canada I assumed he had forgotten about me. Yesterday my assumption was shattered when he showed up with another letter. This one explained that he had been praying and fasting for God to change my heart so he could have an American friend. He wants to come over to my house to visit me. So, how do you explain to a 12 year old boy that you are not his ticket to the good life?

I don't enjoy telling people that I would rather they didn't visit me but I am slowly learning that that is the kindest and most appropriate response. At the same time, it takes wisdom and grace to figure out exactly what to say and how to say it.

Although I don't always enjoy the extra attention I receive as a foreigner, I know it will continue to be part of my life here. I just pray that I will keep learning better ways to respond to it so that I can truly love these people who have welcomed me into their country.