EOE Missions

Mumbai Project Day Six (March 29th)

5:00am (Indian Time +/- 45min) Rev. Diwakar arrived with a full SUV of other pastors and helpers for the 12 hour drive to Guthrat Tribal Area. The drive was LONG…and the road was ROUGH and with 3 big Americans, 2 big Indians and Diwakar…there was not much room to breath…the heat and the dust was nearly unbearable, combined that with the lack of sleep the night before and you make for an unpleasant trip…

But God was good! After hours in a barren smoldering wasteland we arrived in a valley of tall trees and vineyards! The Reverend stopped at one to buy grapes and we all jumped at the chance to stretch our legs…our arms…even our noses! The vineyard owner rushed out to greet the strangers the minute he saw that we where westerners. He saw me taking pictures and rushed over to my side. At first I was sure he was asking me not to take photographs, but later realized he wanted me to follow him…so I did! It was like a chase from Alice in Wonderland! He was a foot shorter than me and at least a full 60 pounds lighter and he was fast…he darted from hear to there under the wire trellises that the grape vines had been fastened too…when I caught up with him he was standing in a spot saying, “snap, snap”…He had taken me to his favorite spot way deep in his vineyard, to the best spot to take a photograph…and to where his choicest, oldest and most valuable vines lived! The view was amazing. The grapes were beautiful beyond compare (see the photos!) He pulled a small bunch off the vine and proudly handed them to me. He was smiling from ear to ear. I was already admiring the taste of the grapes with my dismayed host and the rest of the crew showed up. The moment was gone. I had a fleeting glimpse of expressing Jesus love to the man using what he had just lead me to, but lost it and was left just standing there smiling and saying, “thank you. Nameste”. I prayed for that man and his whole family who was working the vineyard…PRAY FOR THE VINEKEEPER IN INDIA whose name I will never know.

That interlude lasted less than 15minutes, then it was back in the SUV for more traveling…We made it to “Punjabit” around 2:45pm, and our contact was nowhere to be found. So while waiting in the sweltering heat of the SUV I decided to jump out with my camera, take a few shot and buy a Pepsi from the vendor near our vehicle. It took about 30 seconds before we were surrounded by local towns people, young men mostly, but the odd older man and older women. The young girls and young women just stared at us from across the street suspiciously. I was getting very uncomfortable, only Omega was with us, the two leaders of the trip, Rev. Diwakar and Rev. Sinji, had gone to use the telephone to track down our contact. So here are three western missionaries and a seminary student surrounded by nearly 40 people all asking questions, some angrily, some friendlily and some with stoic curiosity. So, I lifted up my camera and took a snap shot and quickly turned it around to show the kids I photographed their image in my little LCD…they were amazed and started to laugh! Before I knew it there where shouts of “me, me, me!”, “Snaps!”…if appeared that they had never seen such a camera before…or a Western face (cries of English, Australian could be heard, no one guessed that we were from America.) I took pictures of groups, fathers and sons, old men, a Muslim man (I think he was a cleric), pictures of our group with there group…then the Reverends reappeared and had us get in to the SUV ASAP…we took off and drove up the street, over a bridge and then stopped about 500 meters up the road…”We are going to make phone call. Stay in the vehicle and do not draw attention to yourselves again.”

It turns out this is a very sensitive mission here. The Hindu majority has had many persecutions against the Christians here in the recent past. Burned to death an Australian missionary and his family in there vehicle. The church just placed a new pastor in the town and he is leading a very small congregation of believers in his home…(on the Muslim side of town)…I felt horrible and relieved…Sean and I had been saying how we just need a translator to share the Gospel with the crowed we had gathered…putting some pressure on Omega to start sharing…never comprehending how sensitive the situation was or how fragile the ministry in this town had become.

We hooked up with our contact and followed him by motorbike to the new pastor’s home. It was a two-room mud brick and plaster row-house in a predominantly Muslim neighborhood. He served us tea and we prayed with him for a while. I think that our adventure in town was relayed to him and he seemed surprised and relieved that no damage had been done.

We mounted the SUV again with an additional passenger. This new passenger is also a Pastor and a traditional Indian style percussionist. We followed the new Pastor on his old motorcycle to one of the tribal village churches he is responsible for. It was a 30-minute drive over very bumpy and primitive single lane roadways…

We arrived at a very small village. I looked almost like a Mexican pueblo to me…adobe looking structures, red brick and red tile…like a movie set…surreal. We parked next to a pair of oxen chomping away on some dry straw, a dairy goat, a calf and a single chicken. There was cactus around the village, a central well and a red brick two-room building that had become the village’s church. We walked into the church and they quickly gathered enough plastic chairs from the neighboring houses to seat us all…Muhere grabbed a “congalu” drum (two headed drum with a bass and treble side) and started to beat it…HE IS AN AMAZING PERCUSSIONIST! A man with a rattle showed up and then a tambourine, all percussion…no melodic instruments at all…and the worship was awesome, primitive, real and deep! These people LOVE JESUS! The room quickly filled to capacity! 20-25 men and women jammed the 15 x 15 room from door way to door way…They then asked for testimonies from the visiting missionaries, and after brief introductions, Sean gave his testimony about wanting to share Jesus, and then I was asked if I had a “word” for the congregation, I started by praying for them and asking Jesus to become so alive to them, that they would focus on the wonderful promises He has made them and then become alive to share that promise with those around them who are perishing without this hope…after prayer…I did not have anything else come to my mind/spirit to share so I handed it over to Ken who gave a very moving sermon that contained the full Gospel of Jesus Christ! We then offered to pray with anyone who would like prayer and a few people asked us to pray for/with them…on was a young girl holding the limp body of her 6 month old baby boy…he was feverish, sick and did not look good at all…she looked up at the group and just looked back down at her baby…we all got down with her on the floor, Pastor Ken laid hands on the baby and we all prayed for healing, for Jesus to use this opportunity to heal that baby for His glory and for the honor of His name. Nothing immediately happened, the woman seemed to feel better about the situation, but I HONESTLY was expecting the baby to open his eyes and look at us after we had prayed for him…I was disappointed and a little sad…sad for the baby…sad for the mother…but selfishly sad for myself…I wanted to see a miracle! Was that for Christ glory or so I could say I have really seen one? I my heart I felt deep conviction that it was for me I wanted that miracle…not for the baby, not for the mother and sadly not for Jesus...PRAY THAT THE BABY LIVES AND GROWS UP TO BE A POWERFUL WITTNESS FOR THE GOSPEL IN INDIA!

I got 20minutes or so to take some more of my “snaps” all over the little town. Some of the best photographs came from that tiny village. The faces of the people there, transformed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, are amazing. You can see stories in their eyes, history in the lines on their faces and Love in their body language and posture. I will never forget what the Lord did to my heart while I was there…and looking back just 48 hours as I write this…how he was preparing me for that evenings meeting…

We still had 3 hours drive to go to reach the remote Tribal Area that the meeting was scheduled for. The drive was over rutted and potholed roads, a single lane wide, where we frequently had to pull to one side or another to miss a free roaming heard of goats or cows…we saw more ox drawn carts than cars once we started out from the small village. We arrived at the “church compound” around 5:30pm.

The compound was comprised of a two room church parsonage made from fired bricks covered in dry plaster. One room was largish by Indian standards 15x15 and had a thin drape covering a doorway to a “kitchen”. The building had some electricity to power a ceiling fan and two florescent tubes, but no running water. Out on the porch could be found the WC facilities and a shower. The WC was a ceramic floor level hole in which one could squat over and the “shower” was a hose and a bucket. There was a large water tank on the roof of the facilities that our host would fill from his well. (see the photos for a better understanding) The second building was a guesthouse. Smaller than the first with a 12 x 10 room adjacent to a second WC. This WC had some problems functioning so it was off limits even though it had a western style toilet!

We where treated to a wonderful home made dinner prepared by one of the pastors wives. She cooked it so blandly, fearing we would not be able to take the spices that the Indians with us laughed and did their best to choke down the meal. Diwakar explained that while we look to have very light skin, underneath we have Indian stomach and love their spices!

We where given a little time to prepare for the evening. They said that they would be expecting from 500 to 1000 people at the open air meeting tonight but gave us no other details. I lay down on the cool stone floor and started to pray…before I new what happened I was being gently nudged awake and instructed that it was time to go.

It was dark! There were stars out! In Bombay we had only seen a few of the brightest stars, and some nights not a single star could be seen through the haze of the thick smog and smoke from trash fires. It was very beautiful. The temperature had dropped to the high 70s and with the low humidity, was perfect for a night meeting…many other pastors and church planters from around this part of the country had gathered while I slept and they all jumped on motorcycles and into trucks to head out to the meeting. We drove only 4 kilometers, but it felt like we had been driving for 20minutes. Through fields, through a small stand of forest…around an old brick building…this meeting was being held out in a field owned by the church far away from the small clusters of village homes.

We could hear the crowed worshiping and singing songs long before we arrived! We pulled up and there was a huge crowd all seated on the ground on large tarps laid out over the fields. It looked like a sea of people to me from my vantage point. As soon as we stepped out of the car one of the local pastors had the meeting rise to their feet to welcome us. Over a crude sound system they called our names and told a little bit about us. I have no idea what was said, only that when my name (An-Tony Vill-Gates) was said I headed for the makeshift stage, waved to the crowed and sat in the plastic chair I was pointed too. I looked out at that sea of faces, some in saris, some in workers clothes, some in tatters some in finery and was overwhelmed with a sense of joy. This was the capacity of three of our local churches in Woodland Park seated together in perfect harmony. What a blessing. I was also suddenly filled with dread…what if I disappointed them? What if they came from so far only to have me get in the way of the Holy Spirit? I immediately banished those thoughts and turned my face toward heaven and silently prayed that the Lord would reach these people despite myself and that I would be open to the complete leading of the Spirit.

After all the introductions where complete the worship resumed. Wonderful, authentic worship with people crying out to God, praising His name, lifting hands high and kneeling before the throne of grace. We were “laid” with beautiful garlands of local flowers. Sean and I first with elaborate garlands and then Ken, then the visiting dignitaries, then the visiting elders from other tribes then the seminary students…it was quite a ceremony and very touching. Each “lai” was placed around each recipient’s neck by a different tribes person.

Sean was asked to go first and he spoke about giving your all to Jesus. He gave his testimony and thanked the group for their openness and support. He did a marvelous job and was done so quickly that I did not have time to react before they introduced me. I whispered in Diwakar’s ear as he passed me the mic that just had a change of plans if that was okay with him…I never did hear his answer…

I grabbed the mic and greeted the crowed, pausing frequently for the translator to catch up with me. I asked them to rise to their feet with me and lift holy hands to the Lord as we ask for His blessing on this meeting and on the speakers to come. As I closed my eyes, I was overwhelmed with a sense of impending revival and I prayed that over the crowed and begged them to cry out to God for revival. I reminded them that India has had a Christian testimony going back to the disciples, longer than the Western Hemisphere has had the privilege of knowing Jesus. I shared through prayer the vision of seeing India embracing Christianity, throwing down strongholds and alters to false gods, I called out the up and coming generation to put Christ above all else, to cling to Paul’s words that for me to live is Christ and to die is Gain….I felt such supernatural confidence in the prayer…and I also felt the enemy encroaching in my mind! I heard whispers of “you have the crowd in the palm of your hand”, “they love you”, “you are a pretender”, “who are you to be “prophesying” over these people?”, and even “at home your so called friends are laughing at you and muttering behind you back”. It was a real battle. REAL WARFARE and is scared me. I pressed harder into the Lord and just kept leading the prayer… I saw that many of those assembled where visibly moved by the prayer experience…it was very beautiful. When it was over I asked everyone over 15 to be seated.

I was left staring at a group of nearly 50 young people. I addressed the crowd with almost the same words one of my Pastors had preached just a few Sundays ago. “This is the future of Indian Christianity”. I implored the parents to pray earnestly for their children, to teach them the way they should walk so as adults they will not depart from it! I told them that part of the Christian walk was to share their faith regardless of the consequences. Heads all around the crowd where nodding, these people understand persecution – they live it every day. I ended my time by praying for the future, for these young people and spoke over them a vision for their generation making India a Christian nation dedicated to the one true and living God. I called up one little girl who I felt impressed to single out and laid my hands on her and prayed for her and for her whole family and then laid hands on her as a representation of her generation. I knew that God was at work there that night. I know in my spirit He was moving.

After I sat down Pastor Ken got up and gave a moving Gospel presentation that culminated in 4 young men making first time commitments to Jesus Christ! PRAISE GOD! The native pastor then asked for those who would like to rededicate themselves to the Lord to come forward and we had over 100 come to the little platform for prayer. We prayed for them, and they prayed in response. Some were shaking, some crying, some smiling so powerfully it was contagious. Then the local pastor startled me…

He asked that any who needed healing to come forward and Ken, Sean and I would lay hands on them and pray for them! We spent the next half-hour laying hands on the sick, the infirmed, the very old and the very young. I was very moved by one old man who brought his wife to me because she “had been filled with an evil spirit”. I had not been involved in an exorcism before and did not discern that I would while in India either.

I laid one hand on her husband’s head and the other on her head and just started praying that any evil spirits that have inhabited this woman would leave in Jesus name! I prayed for healing for her mind and for her soul. I sensed that perhaps the old woman was just senile or had some other symptoms of advanced age that made her appear catatonic. She did not speak at all; she just blankly stared straight ahead. When I finished praying for her I touched her shoulder and blessed her in the name of God, half expecting some demonic voice to curse me, but instead she just turned her head toward me, eyes hidden by the head scarf she was wearing and then walked away holding her husbands hand. I felt that there had been something profound but so hidden there was no way for me to discern it. There where many others: an old man with bad arthritis, a man with bad hips, an old woman with a damaged elbow, young children who were sick. God is Good He will heal them for His glory and for the honor of His name among the Indian peoples.

We finished the night with the pastor calling all the students up who would be moving on to work or to “higher” education. I was shocked to see that it was mostly 8 year olds thru 14 year olds who lined up before us. The pastor then handed me the mic and asked me to pray for their future and to give them a blessing in the Father’s name. I closed my eyes and silently prayed for the right words and then blessed them and prayed earnestly that they would persevere, press into the Lord and enjoy Him, that they would find Joy and Peace that is so contagious all of India would be infected. I was very moved by their reaction and their faith that God would supply all their needs! That he was more than enough. I was convicted that many times that my words pay service to the fact that He is more than enough, but that I still want so much and have so much. Is Jesus more than enough for you when your stomach is empty? Is he more than enough for you when the bills are past due? When your child is sick? When you are faced with losing a family member? When there is tragedy? Is he more than enough all the time or just more than enough when our other “needs” are met?

I pray, Lord be enough for me all the time Father! Be all I need! Conform my will to Yours and make me over in the image of Jesus!

After we where finished the local church pastor that hosted us rolled back the tarps and fed the whole crowed! Rice and dhal and a little piece of meat. I was amazed! I learned that many people walked as far at 10km to be at the meeting from villages scattered all throughout the green zone. Food is not expensive by our western standards, but comparatively, when was the last time your church fed 600+ people?

We drove back to the compound filled with Joy and exhausted. I took two Sudafed, drank a glass of warm bottled water and fell asleep on my mat before my head hit the ground.

posted by Chainsaw Weasel @ 9:19 AM