What I Learned In Madagascar

I was in Madagascar for nine months.

And there I learned that God is good.  God is very good.

Wheat And Weeds And Why I Came To Madagascar

Would you like to know why I came to Madagascar?

• I wanted to serve and share the gospel amongst some of the poorest of the poor.

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.”

• I enjoy working with languages and teaching English.

“But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away.”

• I wanted to get interesting pictures of unique plants and wildlife—mainly lemurs.
• I’d heard good things about Bishop Todd and Patsy McGregor and their ministry in Madagascar.

“When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.”

• Going to Africa is a pretty cool thing to do.
• I felt like it was unfair that there is so much wealth and gospel witness in the west, and I felt compelled to go where there was less.
• Kennon Vaughn made Madagascar sound like a challenge when he told me about it, and I wanted to prove that I was strong enough to make it here.

“The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’

“‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.”

• I didn’t have anything better to do and was too lazy to look at other options.
• Because, “How can they call on Him unless they believe in Him? And how can they believe in Him if they have never heard about Him? And how can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?“
• People will respect me for this.  It gives me good Christian “street cred.”

“The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’”

• I hoped my problems wouldn’t be able to follow me to the other side of the planet.
• I knew these nine months in Madagascar would open my eyes to many important things and give me a better understanding of the world.
• I figured I would have time to read lots of books.
• I prayed and it seemed right.

“‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them.”

• I knew I would grow closer in my walk with Christ in Madagascar.

“‘Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’” -Matthew 13:24-30

Why did I come to Madagascar?  Why do I ever try something good?  Searching the soil of my heart, I find that mixed in with the good seed of what I want to do, there is all sorts of false and prideful motivations.  Christ is in me, yet I am constantly astounded by how full of weeds my life can be, even in the midst of trying to produce real fruit.

I am fully convinced that Christ calls us to wage war against the sin in our lives, but it is a war that requires incredible wisdom, because if I get too fearfully presumptuous trying to destroy weeds, I’ll destroy the good as well.

If I want to never be prideful again, I will have to never try to help anyone.  If I want to never be impatient again, I will have to never try to solve a difficult problem.  If I want to never get sinfully angry again, I will have to never try to stand up for what I believe.  If I never want to be short and unloving toward someone, I will have to never get married.  If I want to never say anything wrong, I will have to never say anything at all.

What can one do?  1)  Don’t spend your life in fields full of weeds. I know there are fields that aren’t good at all, just as there are pursuits that are not righteous but obviously sinful. Don’t waste time there—get away from them.  2) Spend life taking care of the wheat fields. Walk by the Spirit and pursue the fruits of the Spirit and the kingdom of God, and be so thankful that there is grace to cover the weeds that spring up alongside the wheat.  3) Rejoice that one day, the harvest will come. Then all the weeds in my life will be bundled up and destroyed for good.

One Little Hiccup In My Parents’ Trip

Today, after a whirlwind week of traversing Madagascar, it was time for my parents to start their two-day journey home.  They will be back late on Monday.

But wait…

Just as we were pulling up to the airport, Patsy, the Bishop’s wife said, “Uh oh…that’s not a good sign.”  We pulled up to the airport’s empty parking lot.  The airport was closed There was not a person in sight.  Clearly we had missed some message.

Unfortunately, Sunday is everyone’s day off at the airline Air Madagascar, so we couldn’t find out exactly what was going on.  But it seems that they decided to cancel the afternoon flight from Toliara to the capital, Antananarivo.  Sadly, they didn’t tell us or the unhappy group of French people who showed up shortly after we did.

Mom is sad that the ticket is for a flight that isn't there.

So we headed back to the hotel, and Dad got to work figuring out a new way to get home.

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town’…yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring…Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills will live and also do this or that.’ As it is you boast in your arrogance…” (James 4:13-16)

If the Lord wills, my parents will be in America some time Wednesday evening.

If Only I Had Died At The Hotel!

Yesterday, I was in was hiking with Mom and Dad through a natural wonder—one of Madagascar’s many national parks named Isalo.  Moment after moment, the scenery was simply unbelievable (I promise there will be pictures once I get back to my computer).  All you want to do in the midst of such magnificance is wonder and thank God for letting little humans like us take part in such an incredible creation.

Unless, of course, you are me, in which case the park was just stupid. Because obviously, the cloud formations weren’t pretty enough to get the pictures I wanted, the guide talked too long, the grass was too long and rubbed against my arms, and there were too many French people in speedos at the natural swimming pool.  I was also hungry.

So no thanks. Grumble grumble grumble. I should have just stayed at the hotel.

“All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, ‘If only we had died in Egypt!'” -Numbers 14:2

…Oops.  Maybe I haven’t really learned anything in Madagascar. At least the Israelites were complaining about a wilderness and not the shape of cloud formations.

Talking Is Good

Over the course of my life, I have decided that maybe, perhaps, there is a chance, that I am slightly more introverted than extroverted.  That leads me to be a bit withdrawn at times.

But one lesson that being here in Madagascar has pounded into my head is that people are a gift from God, and being able to talk with people (especially in English) is one of the greatest blessings He could have thought to give us.  I pray that I never forget that communicating is a gift, instead reverting to assuming that it is a given.  Thank you God for talking.

On a related note, my parents arrived here in Madagascar safely about 36 hours ago!  Mom had a lemur on her head this morning.  However, pictures will have to wait for a future post.

Conversations With Milson: “Ryan, Is My Family Go To Hell?”

Milson is twenty, and I meet with him every Sunday afternoon to talk about the Bible.  I really enjoy the fact that Milson is always thinking and always asking questions…until he asks a question like the one he asked out of the blue last Sunday:

“Ryan, I have a question.  My question is, is my family go to hell?”

I hesitantly started giving him an answer, wondering why he couldn’t just be content talking the other subjects that I had planned on talking about.

When I was giving my answer (in far FAR more round-about and stuttering way than his yes/no question required) I think my main goal was to help him not be sad about anything.  I did not want thoughts about hell to wreck his day.  I did not want him to have to wrestle with the issue or wrestle with God about it.  I wanted him to have a true answer that would also let him sleep well at night, because…that’s what I do.  Reflecting on it afterward, I realized that, no matter how good of an answer I gave him, Milson already had a better understanding of hell than me.

A proper understanding of hell is not mainly about whether one likes or dislikes the book Love Wins*.  It has more to do with whether or not one can say what Paul did when contemplating the unbelief of his fellow Israelites:

I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit—that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart.  For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh. -Romans 9:1-3

Can I even come close to saying this with Paul?  If my hell theology doesn’t cause me great sorrow, then I just don’t understand it.  My conviction, though worded correctly, is simply wrong and cold-hearted if I can rationalize my emotions to the degree that I am just apathetic.

It seems that I took too many psychology classes in college and fell for the trap that turns Christianity into a mere healthy mentality, which helps rid the mind of tension, conflict, and anxiety.  I think if the apostle Paul were around, people would tell him to go talk to someone who could help him with his feelings.  “You don’t need to have ‘great sorrow and unceasing anguish’ inside you.  That’s not healthy Paul.”

I talked to Milson and answered his question about hell.  But even before I answered it, I think his understanding of hell was better than mine.  It was clear that his understanding of hell actually made him care.

*(for the record, I haven’t actually read Rob Bell’s book Love Wins, but if I have heard correctly, his thought in the book is that hell is not something permanent.  If there is a hell, love eventually “wins” and rescues everyone from it.  I would fall into the camp that disagrees with Rob Bell)

Bigness and Trying to Avoid Cynicism

The other day, I randomly met a young lady from England.  Like me, she was twenty-four and had recently graduated from college.  We chatted for a little while (thankful to meet anyone who spoke fluent English) and during the conversation, she mentioned that she had studied abroad for a summer in America.

“Oh Really!”  I said, “What did you think of America?”

She did not even need time to think.  In her delightful British accent she replied, “I would describe America as big.  Everything in America just seems big.  It is like the whole goal was for everything to be enormous.”

I had never heard it put so plainly, but I immediately knew how true it was.  William, my roommate the history teacher, informed me that this is one of the most common things foreigners say on surveys when they visit the USA for the first time.

America.  The houses are big, and the yards are big.  The national parks and the malls are big.  The cars are big and the chairs are big.  The chemically enhanced fruit is big.  The problems are big and the disagreements are big.  The beds are big.  The stores are big, and the debt is big.  The churches are big, and the Christian conferences are really big.  The people are big because the food is big.  The public restrooms are big.  The stalls in the public restrooms are big.  The toilets in the stalls in the public restrooms are big, probably to accommodate…well…the big people.

If you haven’t had a chance to travel much outside of America, you can take my word for it.

If bigger is better, America is the best. But sometimes from the perspective of being in Madagascar it is just feels…BIG and that’s about all there is to say about it.  Of course, I know that isn’t true and that in the midst of all the bigness, there are people and things and culture with substance and value.  America has its glaring faults, which I think anyone can acknowledge, but I don’t want to be someone who comes back to the USA and can only be a cynical fault-finder.  I think that kind of cynicism would simply be a masked form of pride, that assumes I am somehow outside the bigness simply because I can identify it and complain about it.  I am typing this on a pretty big laptop after all (with a pretty big crack in it).

Becoming overly cynical would also be a form of unbelief—unbelief that sees a big America with big problems that forgets that we serve a bigger God who is currently at work in his people in America, even when it is hard to see.   He is big enough to use and change any situation for his glory.

I’m resolving to offer no cynical criticism of our big, admittedly problematic, America that is not joined with equally big, believing, and grateful prayer.  Here’s praying and trusting that, in the future, my homeland is less known for its bigness, and more for the depth, character, and godliness of the people and culture it contains.

Cultural Differences: Parents

I’ll try to let you try to identify which culture is the United States and which one is Madagascar.

Society A

This society follows the idea, “Honor your father and mother.”

Society B

This society follows the idea, “Your parents are out of touch goofballs, and you can blame them for most of your problems.” (Thank you Freud!)

Interestingly, the society that knows where the phrase, “Honor your father and mother,” came from, is not Society A.

“We had boldness in our God…”

Bold: “showing an ability to take risks; confident and courageous”

Before, I go any further, I should clarify 1) This picture is at least five years old. 2) This is not the kind of boldness I'm about to write about. Just thought it was a fun picture.

I have spent a large part of my life wanting to be bold, but waiting (I give myself no bold points for tweets and blog posts, which are read almost exclusively people who already approve of me).  I know that we are called to be bold and courageous, both in word and action:

“…as you know,we had boldness in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in the midst of much conflict.” -1 Thessalonians 2:2

“…it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death.” -Philippians 1:20

“Keep alert…making supplication for all the saints, and also for me that word may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel…that I may declare it boldly as I ought to speak.”
-Ephesians 6:18-20

I want to be bold, and I thought I was just waiting for the right time to be bold.  But I realized today: I have been waiting to be bold until my boldness no longer has to be bold.  I will stand up, speak clear truth, and take a risk with my life when…I know everything will work out.

When I know you will not think I’m strange or unloving; when I know that others will join in with me; when I know that I’ll have success; when I know my arguments are airtight and everyone will think so; when you will still be my friend at the end of this; when I can quietly back out of this action later; when God has already told me the definite outcome.

Maybe I am waiting to be bold because it turns out I don’t really want to be bold after all.  I think I might have just wanted to look bold and am still searching in vain for an avenue where I can look bold without being bold.  Now granted, our current generation is especially hostile toward people who are bold about what they think is right and so one has to be careful abou–

Wait a minute.  That can’t possibly be true.  Was there ever a generation where there was no risk in boldness or where everyone loved the bold people?  Again, that would hardly be boldness at all, since boldness necessitates confidence and courage in the face of risk and hostility.  The current state of the world is never a good reason to not be bold, because there is never a state of the world where being bold is something the world wants.

Will we be a people who can look back on our lives and say with Paul, “We had boldness in our God”?  Actually, take the “we” out of it for a minute, because boldness in God also might mean no one else is around to join in with me.  Will I be someone who will look back and say, “I had boldness in my God” (or just boldness in my haircuts)?

And finally, will I ever get it into my head that my “boldness” and “courage” is only in relation to this world and temporal outcomes?  I need courage because I don’t know what is going to happen.  My action might succeed or it might fail miserably.  But that is only in regards to earthly outcomes.  There is never any failure with God or when we have boldness in our God.  Whether the outcome of my bold action looks like all the walls of Jehricho coming down or whether it looks like being crucified on the cross, God is at work.

I know that.  Why would I wait to be bold?

Vanderbilt, What Will We Wear Wednesday?

Today, (Tuesday) many students on Vanderbilt’s campus, and also on other campuses, will be wearing white.  People will be tweeting with the #wearevanderbilttoo hashtag.  Facebook profile pictures will change to a white cross.  All of that will happen in preparation for tonight’s town hall style meeting at Vanderbilt.  My guess is, if you are reading this blog, you already know the issue, and most likely, you already have your own thoughts and your own stance.  Most articles and tweets and facebook posts will be, in a sense, “tweeted to the choir.”  Those who already care will care the most to follow what is going on.

The following is for those people who know where they stand and who will be wearing white today.  More specifically, it is for Christians, although I know other people might be concerned with what is happening at Vanderbilt.

Regardless of what happens tonight (and honestly, knowing the pace at which this whole process has gone, probably nothing truly new will “happen” tonight) Wednesday will roll around.  What then?  What will I do?  What are we, people who believe that Jesus is worthy to be stood up for, going to take away from all of this?  When the excitement and fervor die down, which they will eventually, what will be left?  We are wearing white today, what will we wear tomorrow?

I think that there are several answers to the last question, which help answer all the others:

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ... -Romans 13:14a

For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.
-Galatians 3:27

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts,kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.  And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. -Colossians 3:12-14

It will be easy enough to wear white today.  Have people realized that, all along, we were wearing something even more significant?  To have “put on Christ” and “put on love” ought to make far more of a statement than a day in white t-shirts.  But actually, I think my last sentence is somewhat misleading.  If we want to make a “statement,” being clothed in white will do the trick just fine.  However, if we want to make an impact, we must be clothed with the Lord Jesus Christ.  That is what must happen when the fervor dies down.

Putting on white can bring people together in opposition.  Putting on Christ can bring people together in love.

White shirts will make a statement against this non-discrimination policy.  If we put on Christ, we can make an impact on the unbelievable amount of very real discrimination and self segregation on Vanderbilt’s campus.  For the last few weeks and during these days when the hubbub has been at its highest, many people from all over Vanderbilt’s campus have been brought together.  However, over the long haul, only the love of Christ, who crossed all barriers to reconcile his people, will maintain that unity.  Christ can make the most diverse people into one people (cf. Ephesians 2:14), because he has bought them, shown them grace, and taught them to show grace to one another.  Will a real impact be made on disunity through this situation?

Putting on white calls us to pray tomorrow evening.  Putting on Christ calls us to lean on the Father in prayer during seasons, good or bad.

Oh God, please let tonight’s gathering for prayer not be about simply making a statement.  If we understand who You are, we will realize that nothing can make a greater impact on this world than the prayers of your people.

When I was a student at Vanderbilt, I was a leader in a Christian organization, and on various occasions was given the task or organizing and gathering people for prayer.  Only a handful of people wanted to come and pray.  Now that this new policy is at the forefront, and religious organizations are in danger, people have come together often to pray.  That is a great thing that must continue.

If we are clothed with Christ, we will know that Christ is the one sustaining us at all times, and we will cry out to him in thanks during the joyful seasons and cry out to him for mercy in confusing seasons like the current one (cf. James 5:13).  Also, if we have put on Christ, we will have eyes to see that, all along, Vanderbilt, the city of Nashville, and our lives in general were plagued with problems, sins, and injustice that desperately needed prayer.  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).  Have we truly seen our need for Christ, and do we mourn over the ills of this world?  Will this situation have a lasting impact on our prayer life, or will that dwindle after we take of the white?

Putting on white, we will boldly stand up for our rights.  Putting on Christ, we will boldly stand up for others.

Allow me to play the role of a cynic for a moment. One might wonder: “Why is it that Christians can come together and mount a movement when their organizations are in danger, while that same kind of zeal is not seen to face the world’s “real” problems?  What about poverty, sex-trafficking, AIDS, adoption crises, racism, etc?  Do we only perceive injustice when it means we can’t have our meetings on campus anymore?”

There is a partial truth to that criticism.  If we are clothed with Christ, we ought to walk as salt and light on the earth, and we will be the leading voices in the causes of justice for “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40).  There are far greater problems in the world than one policy on one college campus, but it is so difficult to put one’s heart and effort into another person’s problems.  However, that cynical sentiment is untrue if it determines that the small fights are unimportant.  And honestly, who can judge exactly how important this one struggle will be?

If nothing else, this small fight ought to be a cause for great hope for all causes of the oppressed, because it shows that, when people wake up to a problem, they can come together to do something about it.  On Vanderbilt’s campus, and the world in general, those who are clothed in Christ should be the voices of truth, comfort, justice, healing, and help when no one else will speak up.  If our message cannot be backed up by this…then we will have just been wearing t-shirts today, and only doing it for ourselves.  Today and beyond, if we have put on Christ, the same boldness we have today will lead us to fearlessly fight for the causes of others.  That is what will leave an impact.

Putting on white clothing proclaims that we can believe in Christ.  Putting on Christ proclaims Christ.

Today, people are uniting for religious freedom, a cause that is rightly worth defending.  Putting on white declares, “We should be able to worship freely.”

However, being clothed in Christ calls us to something more.  When he is our everything, our declaration is not simply, “We should be able to worship freely” but rather, “We should worship Christ, the Son of God.”  Jesus, the crucified and  risen Savior is the one we proclaim (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:23), today and for all time.  White shirts, a symbol of religious liberty, serve not as an end in themselves, but, for Christians, as an avenue toward being able to proclaim Christ.  Religious freedom alone will never save the world.  Christ alone will. (cf. 1 John 2:2)

Putting on white, we speak up for our rights.  Putting on Christ can free us to lay them down if necessary.

Who knows what will happen tonight and in the months to come?  This post has just been an effort to say that, regardless of what happens, tonight is not the end.  We trust and worship Jesus Christ, and when the white shirts come off, he will not.  If the following months bring a victory for religious organizations on Vanderbilt’s campus, then we will be clothed in Christ and thank him and worship him for that victory.  If Vanderbilt decides that their policy is not changing, then we will still be clothed in Christ, putting on his love, compassion, and forgiveness, trusting that he knows best.  After all, Christ’s greatest victory came when he laid down his rights and gave himself up for us all (Philippians 2:5-8).  Perhaps his greatest victory through us will happen when we do the same.

When we wear white shirts tonight, it will make a statement.  If we put on Christ, he will make an impact, and one that we never could have imagined.