Fifteen years ago, while serving on a ministry Board, I felt it was important to go to the field and experience firsthand the core values of the ministry I helped to “guide.”
I wanted to step into the world of those who lived in the lands where the church suffers and where the church is persecuted. I wanted to see what the gospel of Jesus looked like through their lens. I wanted to experience their geo-political world, their foods, their smells, their art, THEM. I wanted to know THEM, intimately.
My first stop was The Netherlands. I was to connect with a few friends, one being a man affectionately known as Brother Andrew. As I left Andrew’s office that day I said, “I will see you later. Take Care.” He stopped me and called me back to where he was standing and said, “Steve, you remember one thing. Around here, we don’t take care, we TAKE RISKS.” Those two words would begin to form me over the next 15 years. Those words resonated with my soul. This was not about being cavalier in the things we would engage with, but it was understanding that “the Gospel is an unsafe message for an unsafe world.” I was about to step into that world in a way that would transform how I viewed God’s Church, His people, and my life.
The next day we landed in Tel Aviv and over the next 10 days we would venture into Israel (yes, followers of Jesus suffer in Israel), The West Bank and Gaza (and, yes, the Church exists in Gaza). In Gaza, we walked into a war-torn land whose beauty would be found in her people. Their smiles and generosity would rival what I had experienced anywhere. The people had nothing, but they gave us everything and, at times, it was at great risk. We sat and listened to their stories of suffering and rejection.
We heard their stories of faith and God’s goodness to them. We embraced them and they kissed us 1,000 times. They handed us their children to hold and to adore. BUT we visited the leaders of Hamas. Why would we do that? Jesus said that we should love our enemies. We met them because Brother Andrew loved “these enemies and he loved them well.” We prayed with them, and we spoke with them about Jesus, the great healer and teacher and peacemaker.
Arriving back in the United States, I met with my longtime friend, Jim. Jim has traveled extensively throughout the world with his wife, Becky. Jim asked me how my trip went? I began to talk. It’s as if I vomited all over him. He smiled and when I took a breath, he said, “You’ve been wrecked, my friend.” I said, “And I NEVER knew it could feel so good.” Sometimes we just need “to be wrecked.” Is it painful? Sometimes. Is it hard? Sometimes. Is it life-changing? ALWAYS.
“Why tiptoe through life, to arrive at death, safely?
