Why the "Pagan Origins" of Christmas... Don't Matter

Disclaimer: This post is, naturally, entirely my own perspective. I say things which some raised in a fundamentalist background may take offense to, but having been raised in a semi-fundamentalist background myself, I submit that might be a little too natural of a reflex for us. Hear me out to the end first, then I'm happy to hear any objections.

Also, for those of you who say "but Christmas is over," the 12 days of Christmas are still very much underway. We're not even to the seven shrimp a swimming yet...

1. "Folk" Religious Practice

One of my favorite professors in seminary brought up an issue which I'd noticed but not had a good name for until then, the concept of "Folk Theology." Any major religion with established doctrines and practices can have a "folk" version, which is what happens when one gets far away from those who keep things orthodox, and superstitions and traditions begin creeping in, influence from the surrounding culture which rises from background culture to mix with religious conviction, etc.

Scripture is quite clear that we have a direct relationship to God. Because of Christ's atonement, we can boldly approach the throne of grace, a staggering concept that I am still trying to wrap my mind around. When Jesus taught His disciples how to pray, He did so by speaking to the Father directly, not angels, His mother, or anyone else.

Folk theology happens when the natural ways of fallen human thinking start to mix with "theology proper," and people start doing what comes more naturally. Interposing saints or angels between oneself and God to get more "influence," would be one example, though sadly one that has become fairly established practice within large portions of the Roman Catholic Church. (I still pray that the divided church in the future may become one, as the body of Christ ought to be united)

Much of the Islamic world practices not "proper" Islam, but some version of Folk Islam, with local deities still worshipped in some form under Allah, or people wearing talismans to ward off the evil eye, etc. Many of the Islamic terror movements claim legitimacy as reformers, initially coming in to banish these non-acceptable practices and preach a more Qur'an-centric Islamic message, naturally with their own interpretation emphasizing Jihad, etc. (then start recruiting...)

Other milder examples might be putting a Jesus fish on your car, not just as an expression of belief, but because "I'm not saying it will keep me from having car wrecks, but it can't hurt," or carrying one of those angel pennies. Doing these things is not necessarily wrong, but when we start turning to any physical things, rituals, or routines for the blessing and protection that come from God alone, we are walking away from scripture, down the road of folk theology that leads eventually to heresy and superstition.

It's an easy and natural trap to fall into. It could start as people copying a respected and godly leader in their church regarding a particular practice and teaching others to do so, without a total understanding of why he chose that way or that he himself would say it's purely his preference. It could start with someone wanting a tangible expression of the blessing and protection God provides, then more and more identifying that tangible object or symbol with the blessing and protection itself.

It's not like a minefield to be avoided, it's more like rust: It's always gradually appearing, some environments are more conducive to it than others, and it can be prevented with maintenance and care, in this case by always using Scripture as our foundation. (Scripture doesn't say whether you should have a cross on the wall behind the pulpit or not, or even whether you should have a pulpit, but one can easily understand from Scriptural principles that people should not be going up and kneeling before the cross because they think they are more likely to receive God's forgiveness that way)

I saw a severe case of this problem in Mexico, where historical fusion and syncretism with local pagan religions has led to a muddled situation where Mary is worshipped as a goddess (with the moon behind her and all, just like the moon goddess she replaced), and superstition is totally rampant, with little understanding of actual scriptural doctrine in many cases. I appreciate the missionaries and local believers I have met there who labor against this infernal confusion; they need and deserve our prayers. (OMF has a good page on how something similar happened in the Philippines)

The question we need to answer in this blog is, is that what's happened to Christmas? Have we allowed superstitions, influences from pagan/pre-Christian European cultures, to mix together with a straightforward remembrance and celebration of Christ's incarnation? 

2. The Dangers of Witch-Hunting

At least this guy wasn't trying to say Santa is Satan with the letters re-arranged...

I grew up in a fairly fundamentalist evangelical setting. (Apologies to older readers; I recognize the term was not originally negative and the motives of the original movement were good, but I'm using it in the more recent sense) We didn't burn any books, but we did throw away some Disney movies, and we weren't allowed to listen to secular music, or Christian music that "sounded like" secular music (Christian pop rock danced on the margin). I confess that I did not always adhere to this rule (I wonder if my parents are reading this? Well, they didn't adhere to it 100% either, haha), but I did learn the important lesson that what we put into our minds is important. Discernment is strangely unpopular, but I'm a big fan, as you will see.

Growing up in that setting, I have experience with fundamentalism ranging from the cloistering reflex only partially influenced by a legalistic way of thinking to crazy, pharisaical demagoguery.

What I observed was this:

A culture can easily develop in which the Biblical concept of "the world" that is our field of ministry becomes eclipsed by the Biblical concept of "the world" that is this corrupt world system full of distractions and temptations, and instead of engaging it as salt and light, Christians began to withdraw from it.

Having circled the wagons (formed a outward-facing defensive perimeter protecting what's inside, if you're unfamiliar with the more colorful Old West expression), they then begin to "purge" worldly influences from their midst. This often begins as a genuine attempt to pursue godliness and remove sin, but sadly rarely stops there, becoming a sort of contest: who can find the devil where no one had noticed him before?

I can remember in my childhood, Christian magazines breathlessly explaining how non-Christians were making movies or TV shows that had values that undermined biblical principles, and that good parents should keep their children from watching those things (or to be safe, anything from the same company), lest they be unconsciously corrupted or tainted somehow.

Now, I don't blame the parents. It did sound pretty terrifying, and typically we kids agreed with our parents that if a show or movie was "bad," then we shouldn't watch it. And I think it's instinctive for a loving parent to shield their child from harmful influences if they can. In retrospect I also think it had a lot to do with movements within the Church in America of that decade, with the Moral Majority and other attempts to steer the moral climate of the nation from the top-down, away from the cliff towards which it was hurtling, since that still seemed possible at the time. (Despite the deplorable state of our culture as 2015 approaches, I am strangely optimistic; the Church has always done poorly when it dabbled in politics, but shone brightly when times are dark)

But my point is, a church, or portions of the Church, can sometimes get into a witch-hunting mindset, forgetting that from Eden onward the world has always been the world, fallen, and full of people who don't live by Biblical principles. Instead of going out to be salt and light, they become focused on avoiding and purging bad influences. This embattled mentality can turn into a kind of deep-seated fear, which leads to even more urgent searching to uncover hidden evil influences. (Soon everything is suspect, everything is guilty until proven innocent, not even explicitly conservative and evangelical sources cleave closely enough to whatever fine line is judged to be truly safe.) It's a fear which feeds on itself, and it can become like a prison that locks from the inside.

3. The Church Never Existed in a Culture-less Vacuum

Claims that the Church has been contaminated by the surrounding culture go all the way back to the Gospel writers, with some scholars accusing the Apostle John, for example, of having been too influenced by Greek philosophy. It's actually quite a common accusation that Greek thought and gnostic influences warped Christian doctrine from the very beginning of the Church. Does that mean we throw out all the early Church fathers as "tainted"? Of course not. For one, the Early Church Fathers are excellent sources for us, but we do not regard them as infallible to begin with. Two, it is they who wrestled with the heresies and hammered out doctrinal statements from which we benefit today. There is great value in studying them as wise and godly examples, not in subjecting them to an ideological litmus test. Three, "Biblical scholars" will think up every kind of possible accusation to throw at something that hasn't been tried yet. Not all of them actually believe the Bible, but they all need to write dissertations.

I love G.K.Chesterton's illustration of orthodoxy as a horse or chariot rider who can handle shocks and bumps without losing his balance precisely because he is always moving. And I think his picture is accurate.

The Church is not a delicate glass of water we strive to keep perfectly clear and undisturbed, it is the Body of Christ that reaches out to this world and lives in it, beset by strange circumstances and local confusions, always "in crisis" but never destroyed, always under attack but never defeated, always purifying itself from heresies and finding new ones popping up wherever the church spreads rapidly. It would be impossible if sustained by men, but it is sustained by God.

When the Church goes into a new culture, or develops and spreads in any culture, it can express unchanging, transcendent truths through each culture in contextually appropriate ways. This is a huge difference between a global religion like Christianity and a culture-bound one like Hinduism. Even with a massive number of adherents, due to India's population, and even with some principles of Hindu philosophy having spread around the world, very popular at various times, monkey temples and sacred cows never really caught on in a global context, and aren't going to. Those things can't really escape the culture they developed. If they exist outside of India, they do so directly in proportion to the prevalence of that culture in a specific area.

Christianity is unique among religions (it's not merely a religion, but I'm speaking in comparative terms) in being the least dependent on culture. Local religions, based on un-exportable cultural values or concepts, typically cannot ever hold out against global ones which are based on more universal principles and can thus cross cultures with varying degrees of success, and are often attractive to younger generations who have begun to lose their traditional values but recognize it as a link to a wider world, both geographically and conceptually.

But Christianity stands out clearly even among global religions..
Islam, the second-most exportable religion, is heavily influenced by Bedouin cultural values at its core, and tends to "Arabicize" cultures where it gains influence to bring them in line with Qur'anic principles. Hinduism, as mentioned above, has a very large number of adherents but I would argue it is not truly a global religion in the sense that it can traverse dissimilar cultures. Buddhism, with its roots in Hinduism, is more like a complex series of related world views, ranging from polytheistic/animist religion to atheistic philosophy, yet it is only in the philosophical realm, like Hinduism, that it has found a real following in the West. It's easy to find fans of Zen in America, but non-Asian Tibetan Buddhists are a bit sparser.

Christianity, by contrast, has an meta-cultural message (it is represented in many cultures but the message itself transcends culture and is distinct from any of the particular cultures in which it is represented). Certainly, one could claim that it has a close association with the West, but one then has to define "West." Tens of thousands of Korean missionaries certainly would not agree with you, and the Russian Orthodox church with over one hundred million members might object as well. The global Church has had a very Western feeling over the past two centuries because, for reasons of both church and secular/economic history, that's where the vast majority of missionaries had been coming from. That is changing in the 21st century, to the extent that there may come a day when the Church in Europe and even America is revitalized by African, Asian, and South America missionaries. The process has already begun. A dear sister from Ghana I met at seminary considers herself a missionary to America, to bring God's truth back to the land which blessed so many nations with the gospel but is now itself in dire need of revival.

When people repeat the oft-quoted phrase "it's not a religion, it's a relationship," though it is a bit hyperbolic (Christianity certainly is a religion, but one which is founded on a relationship to God not found or attempted in any other religion) they are getting at this truth: Christianity is a belief in God as He has revealed Himself to us through Scripture (comprising the Bible), and faith that Jesus Christ is God, as He claimed to be, and that we can have a relationship with God, through Christ, that allows us to receive a different kind of life from Him, an eternal life which is holy and can be lived in His presence both on earth and in heaven. That message may be more readily received or more easily communicated in certain cultures, but it's all on a higher level of abstraction than any particular culture. Any cultural clashes will occur in the attempted working out of these truths in reality. Then indeed, there may be clashes all the way to martyrdom, but one then finds local groups of believers rapidly follow.

And from the 1st Century AD until now, all those believers have come from a particular culture or another, and have not magically been transported out of it when they believed. They have had to express the truths of Christianity in their own culture, either by adapting existing cultural practices and ways of thinking, creating new practices and ways of thinking to express Christian truth within the context of their culture, or borrowing practices and ways of thinking from outside their own culture.

Nearly any Christian in the 21st century who has been trained to work in a cross-cultural context would agree that the first two are superior, and I agree both in the abstract and from experience. The last thing you want is for your local church to be copying foreign ways of doing things which confuse and repel locals and train them to think Christianity is therefore a foreign religion which has nothing to do with them. Sadly, this did occur in Taiwan to some extent, though often it happened despite the missionaries' best efforts to avoid it.

4. What's All This Got to Do with Christmas?

So far I've set out a few points:
1. We must be careful to avoid folk religious ways of thinking.
2. We must remember we are to be light to the world, and not fall into an embattled mentality of fear-based "witch-hunting," choosing to disqualify instead of using discernment
3. Christianity is neither culture-bound nor culture-less, but is meta-cultural, and finds its best and most authentic expression when believers live out Christian truth in ways that make sense within their own culture.

Those are important to our discussion because they all have to do with how many people perceive Christmas to be a pagan holiday.

Europe has a long history of Christianity, the "Christendom" of times gone by, where for centuries a European Church both changed Europe and was changed by it. The particular expression of Christianity in Europe looked very different in different places, of course, but in much of Europe it first clashed with, then supplanted, local pagan religions. We don't have a lot of accurate information about these (neopagan practices are almost totally made up, based on guesses of how people might have done things), but we have enough information to know that some Christmas traditions may have some roots in what were originally pagan practices. Plus, the date itself seems to coincide with various pagan festivals centered around the Winter Solstice. A quick google search will reveal all you ever wanted to know about those associations, with many facts both legitimate and worthy of consideration and hilariously wrong. But it doesn't matter.

Here's why:

The Bible, and the history of God's dealings with men that we read in it, is a beautiful expression of God's truth in reality. Reality echoes this divine truth in innumerable ways, and therefore so does human culture. Pagan religions from Egypt to Scandinavia have the story of a dying and rising god, some long before Jesus came to earth. It would be foolish at best to suggest that those stories in any way taint or diminish the story of the Resurrection. They are merely faint and confused echoes of a grand eternal truth. For some, such as the former atheist C.S.Lewis, God used them to point the way towards that truth.

More pointedly, does the fact that the cross was a brutal piece of execution equipment used by the pagan, polytheistic Romans, a symbol of the consequences of rebellion against supposedly all-powerful Rome, make the cross a pagan symbol?

I imagine (and hope) you are saying to yourself "of course not," but I encourage you to follow that logic. Why not? What transformed the cross into an acceptable symbol for the church to use, from early in its history until today, and even by which to identify itself? The answer is, what happened on it; an event that forever changed the meaning of that symbol. A symbol of suffering and shame became a symbol of hope and faith and God's love. So symbols and images can be repurposed; they can be transformed from whatever their original meaning was into something else, including something charged with gospel significance.

Of course it's not something one can do randomly; the transformational event must totally dominate the original meaning so that the symbol is now instinctively understood to refer now to this new meaning. A notable negative example: the swastika. Once a symbol of peace (still a common Buddhist symbol here in Asia), cannot now to Westerner's minds convey anything other than nazism, violent racism, and the holocaust.

Now we arrive at my point about folk religion. We know, as scripturally-educated believers, that it is not religious symbols and pictures that have power (in the spiritual sense). They are nothing in themselves; all authority on heaven and earth has been given to Christ, and He does not lend that authority to an idol of any kind. Therefore an idol is nothing, as Paul said. An empty symbol, an image of supposed authority that cannot reference any true authority. Some measure of power, yes, while darkness still remains on this earth, but even that darkness is subject to the authority of Christ, and soon will be put under His feet. (and ours, with and through Him)

Therefore, while obviously we do not and should not wish to associate ourselves with darkness, we need not fear pagan symbols as pagans do, because we know they are empty, and the darkness they point to has been defeated, even mocked, by Christ on the cross.

So we need not irrationally fear a pagan symbol as something that can hurt us somehow, give us "bad mojo," or somehow remove authority from Christ. That is a folk religious way of thinking, like people in medieval Europe who supposedly said "God bless you" when you sneezed, for fear part of your soul had escaped temporarily and you were in spiritual danger.

But this means if a Christmas tree, for example, is not now a symbol of paganism, it doesn't matter if it was one 500 years ago. The original meaning has been lost, beyond anything but guesses and conjectures, and it is now irrevocably globally identified with a celebration of Christ's birth. And that Christ's birth is celebrated on a date close to the Winter Solstice doesn't matter, because God made the winter solstice. Through Christ all things were created. It's His, not theirs.

Light cancels out darkness, not the other way around. God wins. That is the most fundamental thing I can say about this entire topic, Christmas, Easter, etc. Finding a tenuous or potential historical link back to something pagan does not cancel out that symbol, that event, that celebration. It means the light is shining in the darkness, and the darkness is not overcoming it. God is winning. The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light... for unto us a child is born. The symbols of that former darkness are stripped from the enemy one at a time, and they are laid at Christ's feet. The Winter Solstice may have recently passed, but we marked it by joyfully celebrating the birth of our Lord, our Savior, and our King.
And soon it shall be Spring.

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
(Isaiah 9:6-7)

Bit by Bit - How Nintendo is a Byproduct of the Great Commission

 (Bit by Bit is a series expressing gospel
truths through gaming metaphors. The title refers to our progressive sanctification. And, you know, 1's and 0's)

No doubt, you doubt my premise. How could the Great Commission have anything to do with what is arguably the classic of all classic video games?

Hear me out... it's a closer correlation than you're probably expecting.

In 1541, Francis Xavier (former classmate of Ignatius of Loyola) set sail from Portugal to Goa, India. He did so at the request of Henry III of Portugal, who wanted him to address the reportedly declining state of the Church among Portuguese in India. Goa was Portugal's massively important colonial trading center in India, and from there Xavier was to spread the gospel in the East Indies. (Basically India to Indonesia)

Before his departure, Xavier (with Ignatius and others) had been involved in founding the Jesuit order. He thus went out as the first Jesuit missionary. (Of the Jesuit missions movement much can be said, both good and bad, but it brought Christ to many, many people around the world, and is something of which more evangelicals should be aware)

I won't spend this whole entry recounting Xavier's fascinating story (parts of his wikipedia article are quite poorly written, so I'd recommend looking elsewhere), but it is worth noting that in many ways he was ahead of his time as a missionary, employing methods we might call incarnational while those that followed after him often took more of a colonialist approach.

Xavier ministered in a variety of places around Asia, but one important and well-known period of ministry near the end of his life was the 2+ years he spent working in Japan, beginning in 1549.

While Xavier was making efforts to reach Japan with the permission of its rulers, a course of action he felt would be more culturally appropriate there, the Portuguese crew of his ships also quite naturally interacted with the local Japanese people. Seemingly not feeling personally invested in Xavier's missionary purpose, they began teaching a new game to the local people who enjoyed gambling, using a deck of Portuguese playing cards they'd brought with them. This caught on, and variants of the game spread widely. Gambling card games based on this European style 48-card deck became very popular, and were banned in the 1600's as Japan entered its centuries of isolation, closing itself off to the outside world and trying to rid itself of foreign influences. People who enjoyed the card games found various ways around this ban, however, often by changing the look of the cards. Over the next century or two the decks involved into what became known as the Hanafuda, a numberless deck with flowers designating the different suits.

From the creation of the hanafuda deck, still with 48 cards organized similarly to the Portuguese deck, though now with very different art, we now fast forward to the Meiji Era, in which Japan sought to leave behind the old days and become a modern power. Many bittersweet stories are told of this time of loss and renewal, some historical (in 1876 the remnants of the samurai were banned from carrying swords; in 1877 the last samurai rebellion occurred, was eventually stamped out, and the era of the samurai was ended), and many imaginary tales, as it is a common setting for Japanese period fiction.

In these storied days, not long after Japan had moved its capital from its ancient seat in Kyoto to what is now Tokyo and just after telegraph lines had begun going up, a young entrepreneur named Fusajiro Yamauchi started a company selling high-quality hanafuda cards, which the government had finally decided were far enough removed from the original gambling cards to stop banning them.
Mr. Yamauchi opened his first hanafuda store in 1889, named "Nintendo Koppai."

Therefore it was that, 340 years after Portuguese playing cards were introduced (unintentionally) by Francis Xavier as he sought to establish a foothold for the church in Japan (and did see many Japanese accept Christ, though the history of the church in Japan has been a largely tragic one), the Nintendo company was founded to sell an updated Japanese version of those cards.

It was managed well and expanded rapidly, and after 1959, when Fusajiro's grandson Hiroshi acquired the rights to put Disney characters on Nintendo's playing cards, it became Japan's most successful playing card company. Following a trip to the US, however, feeling underwhelmed after his visit to the world's largest playing card manufacturer there, Hiroshi realized there was little future in remaining solely a playing card manufacturer. The company began experimenting with different product lines, finally settling on toys, then by the 70's, early electronic games. (Some of you will at this point be familiar with Nintendo's history, with the Game and Watch device coming onto the market in 1980.)

In 1983, Nintendo began selling the Family Computer (Famicom) entertainment system in Japan, then from 1985-1987 in the West as well, where it was known as the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES), and came bundled with a game featuring everyone's favorite princess-saving Italian plumber. The Game Boy handheld system followed in 1989, bundled with a little Russian game that had recently begun gaining popularity in the US, called... "Tetris."

The rest, I think, you know. (Though you might not have known that Nintendo still sells hanafuda cards)

So, next time you play a Nintendo game, remember Francis Xavier, first Jesuit missionary to Japan.
Today, Japan's percentage of believers is less than 1%, and it remains one of the world's most secular countries. Early efforts to bring the gospel to Japan resulted, by the vagaries of history, in the export of Nintendo to the world. Maybe it's time for the world's Nintendo generation to take the gospel back there.

TL;DR: The founding of the church in Japan led to you having Nintendo games.
Next time you're playing a Nintendo game, pause it, and pray for the church in Japan.

Lessons Learned for an INTP on the Mission Field: "Shut Up and Listen"

I have learned, and re-learned, a variety of lessons in the past 7 weeks I've been in Taiwan.

Chinese lessons from my last time in Taiwan. As hard as they sometimes are,
language lessons are probably the easiest lessons you learn on the field.

 

I've learned why there were more firecrackers going off in our community several days after Chinese New Year than there actually are on Chinese New Year's Eve night (They're set off in front of businesses as the work starts again for the new year, to ward off bad luck and evil spirits, even for those business owners who don't strictly believe in the spirit part).

I've learned that there are numerous Quaker churches all around the world, and Taiwan has quite a few. (The most are in... Kenya!)

I've re-learned that the subway doors open on the other side for a particular station on the metro line that runs nearest to where I live.

On a more relevant note:

I've learned that transitioning into an altered identity as a physically obvious outsider who still participates in Taiwanese culture to an as-yet-unsure-extent will be both easier and harder than I thought.

I'm still learning which friendships survived the years of my absence from Taiwan and which haven't.

I'm learning that God wills my good more than I wish for my own good.

One of the most important lessons, though, has required regular reminders.
That lesson is, to shut up and listen.


When I think I already know what someone is saying, shut up and listen.
When someone is telling me something about Taiwanese culture I learned the first time I came, shut up and listen.
When someone is saying anything I know is incorrect (and it's not harming anyone), at least at the beginning, shut up and listen.
When other people are talking about something and I know the answer they are trying to think of, shut up and listen.

More subtly, in Taiwanese culture, when someone asks me for my opinion, sometimes it's still better to not say much. Wait long enough for others to speak.

This is not difficult for some wonderful people because they are loving, humble, don't care about being regarded as a consistently accurate and reliable source of information, and often care about concrete things more than abstractions. God has been answering my long-term prayers to become a little more like those people, though I still have a long way to go.

In the Myers-Briggs personality system (MBTI), I am an INTP. One of the notable features of this personality type is the ongoing automatic quest to assimilate all the knowledge around us and construct a model of reality with it. It's not something I can really stop, and not something I -should- stop; it's a gift God gave me that He intends me to use in His service.

But when not put under the yoke of the 1st and 2nd Greatest Commandments, this drive to obtain, categorize, and synthesize knowledge becomes sinful, and can lead me to think of people more in the abstract and less as eternal persons created and loved by God, or simply to give more thought to the information in someone's communication than demonstrate love and respect for that person.
It doesn't happen all the time, but it does happen.

Worse, when paired with my spiritual gift of teaching, when not kept in check it can go altogether awry, and I begin to mistakenly think my job is to make sure everyone has views on the world as accurate as my meticulously fact-checked and continuously updated and synthesized model of reality. This tends to result in (especially after too much coffee) unsuspecting friends or coworkers being the subject of a massive, very detailed information dump, which is rarely helpful to them. To their credit, they are often obligingly patient.

(Some of you may be laughing now, having experienced it. I can offer a retroactive apology but unfortunately cannot promise it won't ever happen again.)

Godly Example Story: The first time I lived in Taiwan, there was a nearly-retired missionary who I accompanied in various ministries. As a new arrival, I was busy soaking up Taiwan cultural knowledge, and at one point this missionary made a statement which based on something I had recently learned seemed to be incorrect. I pointed out the error and he simply said "well, you may be right." Later I realized that he had been right, and I was wrong, and he probably knew that. But rather than prioritizing "setting the record straight" and making sure I acknowledged that he was, in fact, correct, instead he simply let it go. That made a deep impression on me at the time, and I am trying to follow that example.

There's a great verse in Proverbs that talks about shutting yourself up when necessary:

"If you have been foolish, exalting yourself, or if you have been devising evil, put your hand on your mouth." Proverbs 30:32

(My air filter mask for bad air days and motorscooter rides works fairly well too.)

As a man who fears God (in the sense of being overwhelmed by His glory and majesty, and awareness that only the redemption made possible by Jesus Christ stands between myself and all-too-deserved judgment), I don't tend to find myself devising evil. Self-exaltation can be more subtle, however. We don't grow out of that quickly, it just takes on more and more outwardly appealing forms, like praising others and the false sort of humility.

But in those moments when I might be about to be foolish, may God keep reminding me to shut up and listen to what He's saying to me, both in the silence of His presence and the wisdom of others around me.

Hope you are all well and blessed.

Things you didn't know were happening in Alabama...

On Saturday the 27th I got to attend a welcome party for incoming Chinese students, hosted by all three Chinese churches in Madison County. (Huntsville Chinese Christian Church, Chinese Christian Church of Madison, and Chinese Bible Church in Huntsville)
All of the students I talked to were from mainland China, and most were going to UAH, although I met a high school student whose parents had moved to Huntsville from China as well. My guess would be that the Chinese population of the Greater Huntsville Area will continue to increase rapidly in the near future, providing more opportunities to reach Chinese students who might never have a chance for this kind of gospel exposure in China.

Not only do we go out to the mission field, but sometimes the mission field comes to us.

We started off with introductions of the three Chinese churches in the area

This lady sang very beautifully in Mandarin

I would estimate about 120 people in total were attending, including a few dozen Chinese students.

A team from an Atlanta Chinese church came to lead some worship songs.
The gospel was presented as well; hopefully some students were impacted by
their first chance to participate in Christian fellowship with Chinese believers.

Of course you can't have a Chinese gathering without Chinese food!
(This pic is borrowed from HCCC's photo album of the event)

Hey, who's this white guy handing out prayer cards?
(This pic is borrowed from HCCC's photo album of the event)

I didn't get to stay for the whole event, but was there until right before the topical speakers were supposed to start, speaking on things like practical advice for settling in, for the students, and a scriptural message for the attending church members.

It was a blessing to see the local Chinese churches coming together for this event. Just two years ago I had no idea any of these churches were here, even after going to school and working in Huntsville for several years. Now one of them is a support partner, and I preached at another earlier this month. Just more evidence that God's plans and work are bigger and more widespread than we ever know. I'm incredibly blessed to have had this unexpected chance to get involved in a Chinese Christian community right here in North Alabama.

First, You've Got to Get There

It is widely acknowledged that the missionary lifestyle is not an easy one. Historically this was reinforced by things like missionaries packing their belongings in coffins when traveling to their ministry fields, knowing there was a good chance they'd be returning in them. Today the task is less dangerous in that sense (in most parts of the world), though it is arguably somewhat more complicated.

Cardboard boxes don't have quite the symbolic effect...

What is less commonly known is that one of the most difficult parts of many missionaries' work is getting onto the field in the first place. Ironically, one part that many people seem to consider the most difficult -actually deciding to go- was for me the easiest. God made it clear He wanted me to go; I could but say yes or no. (And saying "no" to God is not recommended.) Having said yes, I began to discover the truth that the difficulties didn't start once I was "over there," but began to immediately present themselves.

For many difficult tasks, it is possible to simply power through them. If asked to roll a heavy log up a hill, most people could do it if they had to. Simply dig down and refuse to quit, push as hard as you can, and get it up to the top by any way possible. Or for less difficult but longer and more boring tasks, like a pile of paperwork, one simply plods forward until eventually the whole thing is done. Unpleasant, but eventually overcome.

For getting onto the field, I found the complexity of the task to be that it's neither a matter of simply plowing ahead through any difficulty that arises, or waiting it out, but of accomplishing a number of things simultaneously, with a sort of default timer ticking beyond which people will begin to lose faith in either your calling or abilities. Going back to the log example, imagine being told to roll the log up the hill, within a certain time frame, and also to not crush any of the numerous wildflowers growing on the hill. Suddenly pushing with all your might is not an option. You are not allowed to "try as hard as you can," in the straightforward sense, and "try harder" is not an effective strategy. Nor can you do this task in small chunks with nice breaks in between; if pushed up only partway, the log will roll back down. (Thank God, sometimes He chocks the log for you, and moments of rest are supplied when He knows they are necessary.)

I did not write this to complain! God has called all of us to participate in spreading His kingdom to every part of the world, and He has given me a love for the field to which He is calling me. The labor in this sense is joyful. But I am trying to define the difficulty of a task which can't simply be pushed through, as it depends on the cooperation of volunteers on both an individual and a church level, nor always done in a logical step-by-step fashion, as the "next step" is often a preparation for something coming much later or a setback which forces one to rely on God and wait for Him to reveal a new and unexpected opportunity in another direction.

If only it were this straightforward!

In other words, the dance to the missions field is not so much "three steps forward, two steps back," as "three steps forward, five steps diagonally back to the left, a big jump forward landing on one foot, hopping there while waiting for a place to put the other one, sliding sideways, another step forward, two steps back, cha cha cha," etc. It's learning to trust God to provide the way forward through unfamiliar territory at the very time when other people begin to expect familiar-looking progress in exchange for their trust.

And it's a difficult thing for missionaries to be learning how to move along God's perfect but unpredictable path while many spectators expect them to be moving in the most productive, sensible, and competent direction (as an engineer by trade, this indeed makes the most sense by default, so I do fully understand this way of thinking). Put another way, it's like crossing a major street. People expect you to use the crosswalk in an inspirational sort of way, while it feels much more like God is calling you to play Simon Says in the heavy traffic.

If I can be very straightforward for a moment, it can be rather frustrating to be criticized from time to time by people who would themselves never dream of surrendering all hopes of a career and stable future in the normal sense, because of Very Important Reasons which any reasonable person would see prevent it from being an option for them. (Nevermind those reasons might have just as equally applied to you as well.) They expect you to overcome your unfamiliar difficulties as they overcome their familiar ones, and can adopt the attitude of making sure you "measure up," that support money is not being wasted on you. Unfortunately, this kind of judgmental scrutiny, while not helpful, is also not entirely unfounded. It must be recognized that there are career missionaries who are simply not up to the task, or who have gone onto the field for reasons entirely other than a calling or obedience to the Great Commission, or who spend their support money wastefully and accomplish little in their fields or even do great damage through willful sin. This is sadly the reality, and I believe accountability for missionaries is entirely appropriate. Exactly what form this could take in the sense of measurable goals is a great question which merits further discussion, but the willingness of someone to sacrifice what life they had to pursue God's call should perhaps merit good faith at the outset until proven otherwise, and indeed in most cases and churches it seems to do so.

But of course while having spiritual gifts which are appropriate to the task, cross-cultural missionaries have no special dispensation of knowledge or abilities from God beyond any other believer. God always supplies what is necessary to accomplish what He has called us to do, and so we are just servants of the Kingdom who have been called to exchange familiar neighborhoods for unfamiliar ones. And while the calling is sure (The Great Commission was not a suggestion), we're not always sure the best way to go about doing it. But the passion God has placed in me for His glory among the Taiwanese people compels me forward. That burning fire, lit by the Spirit, continues through the waves of spiritual opposition and temptation, the dark mists of disappointment or confusion about what to do next, or the storms of hardship and setbacks.

"Taiwan is still the only major Han Chinese population in the world
where a significant spiritual breakthrough has not occurred." Operation World

I have been very blessed to have many people trust me, even some people who are not naturally the trusting sort. I feel the weight of this trust very acutely, and pray that I will never betray it, the more so as I have personally been a witness to the grievous results of such downfalls. Yet I know that the ability to merit that trust is not in myself, but in the God who sustains me. He has promised to continue to do so; my task is to walk in obedience and communion with Him, down this strange road which has led through Huntsville, and Texas, and across the Pacific. May He grant the strength to do so, and if you have read this far, I would appreciate your prayers as well.

(And feel free to comment with any of your own prayer requests. I'm always happy to lift them up. It is becoming increasingly obvious to me that sometimes our insurmountable obstacles are not due to a lack of strategy, but a lack of time spent demonstrating our dependence on God through prayer.)

Introverts as Missionaries?

So I've both noticed many and received a few questions about ministry (especially missions) and introversion lately. There seems to be a widespread feeling that missions is something which so heavily involves constant interaction with other people that introverts are ill-suited at best to pursue this kind of ministry.

As an introvert who is going into cross-cultural ministry, I want to specifically engage this issue and perhaps address the concerns of some introverts who are considering going into missions, yet are worried they won't be able to handle the social load.

For starters, let's look at what it means to be an introvert.

The common perception: You're socially underdeveloped/deficient
Introversion is usually not considered a positive trait (or even a neutral one) at least in America, where "putting yourself out there" and fearlessly engaging and thriving in the social scene is considered almost de facto necessary for success.

In the church, a similar way of thinking persists, though under another name. We are called to love and serve other people, so how can you not be a people person? Perhaps you are simply not a mature enough Christian to have developed a strong love for other people. I am only somewhat hyperbolizing, and could tell stories... People-people are sometimes incapable of understanding how you could want to do anything but spend your time in the company of other people. And the introverts twitch a little, feeling their very sanity depends on getting away for a little while to a quiet cup of tea and book that needs finishing.

In Susan Cain's book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking (a book which I highly, highly recommend for introverts or extroverts wishing to understand your introverted friends, family, and colleagues), the author discusses at one point how American churches often demand extroversion as a qualification when looking to fill leadership positions:

"A senior priest at another church confesses online that he has advised parishes recruiting a new rector to ask what his or her Myers-Briggs score is. "If the first letter isn't an 'E' [for extrovert]," he tells them, "think twice ... I'm sure our Lord was an [extrovert]." (Cain, Susan; Quiet; p65)

The above example is a Catholic church, but I would argue from experience that this phenomenon is even more common in Evangelical churches. Contrast this to what we know about Christ; He often slipped away from the crowds, spending the night alone in prayer. Whether in His humanity Jesus was an introvert, extrovert, ambivert, or transcending all of these, we should follow His example of spending much time with people, and much time alone with the Father.

Seriously.. introverts (and extroverts) need to read this book.

The reality: You simply relate to people differently
Due partially to books such as the one quoted above and an increase in online materials regarding introversion (Google "myths about introverts" for many insightful articles), there is a growing awareness that introverts are not, in fact, people who necessarily dislike other people or the company of other people.

As it turns out, introverts simply are refreshed and energized by spending time alone, and not with other people. I have often been assumed to be an extrovert because I am friendly, have a very large circle of acquaintances, and am fairly active socially. But people who see these factors and assume extroversion don't see how I often return home from a long day of (profitable and enjoyable) meetings totally drained, and spend hours silently reading and listening to music before I sleep. This has not prevented me from meeting and keeping up with large numbers of people in multiple states and countries; it just means every now and then I need a break from people, and I must take care to make sure I get it. Those alone times can be highly productive as well; my spiritual gift of teaching is much less effective without periodic times of reflection to process the lessons God has been teaching me recently, and obviously any writing I do occurs during those alone times.

A Truth: Global Missions would be impossible without Introverts

This might seem a bold statement to some, but the whole range of spiritual gifts that accompany introversion are extremely important to any mission team. Not all countries and cultures value the super-extroverted American ideal, and some may even find it offensive. The ability to empathize with people and slowly build a small circle of meaningful relationships, something which comes very naturally to many introverts, allows for a more enduring presence in a community and the chance for long-term partnerships to accomplish real change, when the dynamic speakers and event-based outreach ministries have passed on.

This is, of course, not meant to suggest at all that extroverts are not capable of these kinds of relationships or that their ministries do not have long-term focus. But there is a "soft power" of introversion which endures quietly in difficult situations. Transplanted into a new ministry field, they might not shoot out many branches at first, but they may be putting down deep roots which will help them weather the storms that any cross-cultural ministry eventually faces. Introverts may often be better at "leading from behind," being comfortable with letting local leadership-in-training take center stage while continuing to provide support and direction until they are able to fully lead on their own.

Another example might be seen in the way new missionaries learn the language of their host culture:
In the beginning there seems to be a clear advantage to the extroverts, who are quick to "get out there" and try their new language skills in the streets and with the many new friends they've probably already made. The introverts, by contrast, may still be adjusting to the new environment and not have made many friends yet. It may be easy for them to let the extroverts do the talking at first. However wait a few years down the road, and the introverts' typical love of books may have propelled them into higher levels of literacy, and their small circles of close friends will provide many opportunities for socially safe but effective language progress.

In the end, it should be obvious that both extroverts and introverts have skills and abilities which make them effective in ministry, and that they are able to cover each others' weaknesses.

Extroverts should be careful not to judge introverts for not jumping into socializing with them, and introverts should be careful to develop their people skills as much as possible. In my own case, as an introvert I try to develop my "social endurance" just as an athlete develops their physical endurance. I'll never be a natural at it like some of my friends are, but I am much better at it now than I used to be, and have been blessed by the increased chances for meaningful meetings and relationships that have happened as a result.

So the answer to introverts wondering if they are cut out for cross-cultural missions is a resounding: maybe!
The issue is not your intro or extroversion, but whether this is God's will for you. If it is, He who calls will supply everything you need to answer the call. Pray that He will open and close doors as necessary to lead you in His will, and never let introversion be a reason to hesitate. (Remember Joshua 1:9!)

For life on the field itself, simply be self-aware, recognize that you need to set aside rest times (keeping one day a week at least partially free is a good idea, God created the sabbath for a reason), and at the same time don't let your introversion become an excuse for self-isolation or social laziness.
Since the inner life of the mind is such a constant reality for introverts, remember to "take every thought captive" to Christ. As a famous pastor and teacher was fond of saying,  "You are not what you think, but what you think, you are."

Your introversion is a gift that God has given you, that comes with its own benefits and abilities, to serve Him in the ways for which He has created you!

Why I'm Going to Taiwan, Part Three

This is the last of a three-part series on why I'm going to Taiwan for long-term missions.

Reason I'm going to Taiwan #3: The gospel is barely present there.

This might seem like a very obvious reason, but I have listed it third for a reason. While it indeed is a perfectly appropriate motive for taking the gospel cross-culturally in general (An all-consuming zealousness for God's greater glory in all the world would seemingly be the highest motive, but wiser men than I have weighed in on this issue), it does not necessarily lead us directly to a particular ministry field. We must be careful not to substitute pragmatism or even splagchnizomai for God's leading. Many places in the world lack widespread gospel presence, and while that fact obviously shows we have much work ahead of us to fulfill the Great Commission, we must still go through the process of seeking God's will and determining to which ministry field we will go.

Missiologists would identify our current phase of world mission as focusing on unreached people groups. This is as it should be, as our responsibility is to take the gospel to every culture, and not to move through cultures one by one until the gospel is accepted by a majority in each (something which we know from Scripture (Matt 7:14) will sadly seldom occur).

So one can see that the least-reached areas deserve special attention and focus, and many are called, as was Paul, to preach the gospel where Christ is not known, so as not to "build on someone else's foundation." (Rom 15:20) But the appropriate ministry area for any particular missionary, however, is not necessarily the "least-reached" one, but the one to which God leads him.

For me, realizing (really realizing, not just acknowledging as a fact) just how few Taiwanese know God or have a chance to hear about Him in a relevant way rocked me to my core. Knowing that for every 100 Taiwanese people I saw on the crowded streets, at least 97 of them did not know Christ, and would die unreconciled to God and be eternally away from His presence, was almost more than I could bear. (For more info on the state of the church in Taiwan or anywhere else, I recommend looking at the latest edition of Operation World.)

That was one of the primary motivators for me to consider missions in general. (I hadn't yet decided on Taiwan in particular, that process is described more in the first two parts of this series.) I enjoyed my job as an engineer, and knew it was a blessing from God. But I could no longer in good conscience merely sit at my desk every day and make a very good income knowing that halfway around the world, people I had become quite aware of through my trips were living and dying almost wholly without the knowledge of the gospel. I could not do it.

So I began to open myself to the idea of missions, although I had never considered myself missionary-material before. Honestly, I wasn't crazy about working with people at all at this point. I did C++ programming mostly at work, and it made sense. Tell the computer to do A, and if it didn't do A, you could be more or less certain that you had told it wrong. People, on the other hand, were unpredictable, and seemed to get emotional over the strangest things. (On the Myers-Briggs personality test I am an INTP, aka the Rational-Architect, which is not at all what people generally consider "a missionary personality.")
So I prayed to God, and suggested that if He wanted me to be a missionary, He would have to help me develop a heart for people in reality and not merely the abstract. This prayer He has been continually answering since I prayed it; I am a very different person now, though still an INTP. (I have also learned that there is no "missionary personality," and that INTP's or ESFJ's are equally able to love people and serve God cross-culturally. I am living testimony that someone whose idea of a satisfying night was reading books on Chess strategy alone with some hot tea can be used by God just as much as someone whose idea of a satisfying night is sharing your deepest feelings with two dozen of the new best friends you met last week... but more on that in a later blog entry!)

Concurrent with this growing missional awareness was the realization that God had plans for me that involved Taiwan specifically. During my second trip to Taiwan, while praying at the gospel-sharing evening of our summer camp, God spoke to me as clearly as He ever has, and let me know that I needed to go back to Taiwan. I asked the missionary field leader there what to do. He recommended I stay in Taiwan for a year and experience life and ministry there, and then make a decision about longer-term ministry, if that was applicable. After prayer, I felt strongly that this was the next step God was leading me towards, and so I agreed to do it.

Then it was a question of quitting my engineering job. Strangely, this was one of the easier parts. Once God had made something as clear as He had made this to me, it was simply a question of whether or not I would obey Him. And I had no desire to end up in whatever the equivalent of a big fish's stomach for three days would turn out to be for me... so I thanked my boss for the opportunity to work at my company and the experience I'd had there, and gave notice. To say that the next year I spent in Taiwan was life-changing would be both trite and an understatement. By the end of that time, I was not only convinced that long-term service in Taiwan was something God had prepared me to do, but that I would be happy to do it, if that was His will. (The process of determining that with confidence is dealt with in the previous two entries.)

So that completes the story of why I am going to Taiwan, and I would welcome any additional questions you might have.

Praise be to the Lord Most High for calling each of us in our weakness and imperfection as vessels of His own gospel, that we might share in the eternal blessing of bringing glory to His name!

Why I'm Going to Taiwan, Part Two

As mentioned in my previous entry, I'm commonly asked what led me to commit to long-term ministry in Taiwan. We continue here with a discussion of how I came to make that decision; I pray it may be helpful to anyone in the midst of the same consideration...

Reason I'm going to Taiwan #2: I love Taiwan!

I mention this second and not first because I want to emphasize that leading and direction from God should certainly take priority over preference for a particular destination. No amount of love for a place will produce eternal results for the kingdom of God, only God can accomplish that through us, so we must remain in His will and not assume strong emotional pulls in one direction or another are sufficient evidence of our being so.

I have great respect for missionaries I have encountered who seemed to be not especially attached to the place or culture to which they were called, yet persisted in faithfully slogging it out over years for the sake of the gospel. I hope that, in a similar situation, my endurance would be as great, seeing the prize for which we run. In my own experience, however, concurrent with my growing involvement in Taiwanese ministry was a growing love for Taiwan and its people.

Love for the people one is called to, I was once advised by an experienced Australian missionary who I greatly respect, is the only motivation which can keep one from eventually burning out. I don't know if this is the case in every situation, but one can certainly see how it would be generally true. At the time it was what I needed to hear; my love for Taiwan was rather abstract, in the way that one might say one loved NYC, for example, or "the beach." Certain things about the place strongly appealed to me, and I enjoyed my time there due to, and not in spite of, the place being itself. But my experiences there were still confined to two short-term missions trips, and I really knew very little about Taiwan.


Some things about Taiwan are readily apparent to the first-time visitor. Frequently cited are the island's natural beauty, the friendliness of Taiwanese people towards visitors, and its delicious and comparatively cheap food, notably the street food found in the numerous nightmarkets...

Mango ice dessert from one of Shilin Nightmarket's underground food stalls

An underlying layer of attractions reinforce this positive impression: a highly efficient mass-transit system (at least in Taipei, which is the first part of Taiwan most visitors experience), leading-edge technology side-by-side with ancient Chinese culture, and how even in the midst of thriving metropoli one is never far from the peaceful countryside.

Flooded rice fields in Dajia, near Taichung

After my year of living there, the initial attraction was now a deeper feeling based on real experience. I had visited many parts of the island and really lived life there, seeing Taiwan's land and culture firsthand. But more importantly I had formed real friendships and ministry relationships with Taiwanese believers. We were working together for God's kingdom, and our identity in Christ and common purpose defined us more than any differences in nationality. Culture gaps were there, and at times presented obstacles, but we overcame these through the fellowship we had in Christ.

To some, this may sound like an overly-rosy portrayal of cross-cultural work. Sometimes it's not so harmonious. Sometimes the people are not friendly, or suspicious of outsiders. Sometimes your supposed friends really have their own purposes in maintaining contact with you, and your own ministry coworkers oppose you for reasons that aren't always clear. All of these things can be true in overseas ministry, and I would be naive not to expect some or all of them to happen to me in the course of my life. I'm grateful that my beginning was smoother than is often the case, and won't assume ministry there will always be so. But it makes even less sense to me to set aside or discount the time God saw fit to bless with peace and productivity. Ministry need not always be a weary task, and a heart for your place of ministry and those you are ministering to and with goes far towards easing the burden of the work, even as it increases the burden one feels to spread the gospel there.

It's hard to summarize why one loves something or someone in one short sentence. Usually, if cause can be assigned, it's actually due to a whole host of reasons, large and small. My best answer is that God has given me a deep and compelling desire for the well-being of the Taiwanese people, in the eternal and most significant sense: that they know Him and the grace found in our Savior. In accordance with His call, He allowed me to experience Taiwan in a way that draws me deeply to that place and people. I expect the reader will understand that to recount those experiences would be to recount whatever it is that binds you to the places and people you love; the happy memories and beautiful moments, triumphs celebrated and difficulties endured, quiet places of peace and festive times of celebration, shared sorrows and shared growth.

They say home is where the heart is, and in our increasingly mobile modern world, more and more people are discovering that the converse is also true; where your heart is, that place can be home. Over the years of visiting and living in Taiwan, God has given me a heart for that land and people, and in at least that sense, it has become home.

Why I'm Going to Taiwan, Part One

This is probably one of the most common questions I'm asked when sharing that I'm going overseas for missionary work. It seems like an appropriate way to start the posting here as well, so here goes:

Reason I'm going to Taiwan #1: I have a Calling

The idea of a calling can be misinterpreted, and sadly often is. Some Christians wait for some kind of Gideon-esque sign from God, and others for some intangible sensation that will "confirm" the call in some definitive-enough sense that they can feel the decision can be made with minimum uncertainty. Neither is necessarily required for the decision to pursue cross-cultural missionary work, and many organizations now discourage the use of this term for that reason. How many Christians are waiting on a "sign" from God to go, when Jesus has commanded us all to go? For someone who is clearly led towards and qualified for a certain ministry, "waiting for a calling" could in fact be a way of clothing their own fears and hesitation in godly-sounding language.

(Although sometimes God does indeed make it that obvious; I recall hearing a friend tell of his friend committing to ministry in China after having a dream in which "CHINA" was written in giant fiery letters. Without the context of seeking God's will in a matter, however, this could be easily explained as merely a result of thinking very hard about the decision during waking hours. Looking at the examples of Moses, Gideon, and others, scripture suggests that this kind of sign from God is typically a response to prayerful inquiries and appropriate in the context of a revelation from God which has already been given, not a trumpet call "out of the blue.")

In my own experience, the confirmation went hand-in-hand with the commitment, and both strengthened each other to some extent. My own wet/dry fleece moment could be said to have occurred when praying repeatedly and earnestly for confirmation that I was indeed on the right path in my pursuing Taiwan missions.
After helping my small group organize a week of prayer for our upcoming missions conference at seminary, I randomly chose a time slot which was open on an afternoon I knew I was free, without giving much thought to the particular time I was choosing. Upon arriving at the prayer chapel, I found a document had been supplied which provided a list of countries, American cities, and missionary organizations as possible prayer options. Each day had one each of these, and upon finding my day I discovered to my considerable surprise that the country was Taiwan, and the organization was TEAM -the very organization I'd been intending to join and with whose missionaries my Taiwan ministry experience had been accomplished.

This alone would have been a poor method of picking a ministry destination and organization, but coming after years of Taiwan ministry experience and hours spent in prayer over the decision, and already being at seminary for the purpose of being more prepared for ministry in Taiwan, I believe it was a gracious answer to my fervent prayers for confirmation that I was indeed in God's will. At other crossroads in the journey, I needed confidence again, and each time God provided evidence that I was in His will. Sometimes it was a new local ministry opportunity which tied into my ongoing progress to overseas ministry, sometimes an improbable meeting with the exactly right person to help me take the next step; the God who calls will provide what is necessary to obey the call.

The most interesting moment in my pursuit of Taiwan ministry came during TEAM's annual conference in Taiwan when I was spending a visionary year of ministry there to explore the potential of longer-term service. I was praying outside, enjoying the warm air and starlight (Visible when far enough away from urban environments; Asian cities tend to be glorious, multi-splendored beacons of light pollution and Taiwanese cities are certainly no exception.), and more or less directly asked God if I was supposed to come back there. I received an interesting silence back in answer. This I was not sure how to interpret. It was certainly not a "no," yet I didn't feel any sort of confirmation.

Later after more prayer I realized that I had been trying to foist off the decision on God.
Basically, I wanted God to tell me to go, in no uncertain terms, so I didn't have to shoulder the responsibility for my own decision to do so and whatever ramifications that might have in my own life or the lives of others. I was worried that if I chose wrong, or misinterpreted His will, I might end up somewhere far away from where I ought to be, and then have to try to uproot myself from wherever that was and try to get back into the thing that really was His will for my life.

God in His merciful and infinite wisdom did not comply with my attempt to obtain "decision insurance," and instead allowed me to learn what seems clear now; that God does not test us in this way. Certainly, He will test our obedience by asking us to do things which are more difficult than we can accomplish without His aid, or things we don't understand at the time (and sometimes ever in this life), but God will not set an open, righteous and God-glorifying path in front of you and then punish you for following it because you honestly mistook it for His will.

Yet, I knew that it would be difficult to distinguish obstacles the enemy threw in my path from God re-directing me. So I prayed that, as my goal was to find His will, I would try to overcome every obstacle and trust that if I was going out of His will, He would close the door effectively enough that I wouldn't mistake it merely as spiritual opposition. By the time I finished that year in Taiwan, I had made the decision that, unless He closed the door and locked it, I would pursue Taiwanese ministry and not let any difficulty stop me. Praise be to our glorious God: that was many open doors ago.