The Bombay Blessing!

I just arrived in Bombay yesterday to a sweltering heat that is thoroughly sticky and uncomfortable. In fact, that would be one word that would explain what I have been feeling since arriving here – uncomfortable. My first sight as I stepped down from the air conditioned bus by the Vasi railway station was a group of beggars, or more like a beggar family. There was one woman who caught my attention immediately because there was something hanging from her mouth. Without looking too closely I could see that it was a long line of drool, something that you would see on somebody who was extremely sick and uncared for. She was adorned in beautiful colors even though the material was dirty and unkept. The first thought that crossed my mind was, "This is demonic". The image of the Creator that was imprinted on her soul and form was so tarnished and broken, and the beauty that she possessed so shrouded by the dirt and grime. I walked past her and was immediately confronted with a beggar sitting by a bus stop who was missing an arm and a leg. His other leg had some noticeable scars and some sort of flesh disease. He saw me coming and held up his small bowl with a few scattered coins in it. I held out my hand, not to give freely to him who was in deficit, but to refuse his gesture. I kept walking and within seconds was in front of a shopping mall fitted to attract the wealthy and middle-classed of the city. Outside was a batting cage with well fed young men, batting with a cricket bat and inside, the distinct odor of materialism was as pungent as the putrid still water which lies in the canal next to my residence. I took the escalators, four of them to the top floor where I was confronted by all the food dispensaries one could enjoy including McDees, Subway, among other unfamiliar but attractive food stands. I walked around the all too familiar environment, yet for the first time in my life, I felt so out of place in the kind of place that I had come to before in my own country many times for enjoyment, fun, and a meeting point for friends. I stood looking out over the colors, the eastern faces and the white washed walls of this auditorium. I felt empty, angry and uncomfortable.

I had just finished reading through half of Sadhu Sundar Singhs biography. This sadhu/saint had denied himself the life of a wealthy Sikh family, the comfort of home and the life of luxury that his father had arranged for him and he took on self-denial setting out to preach the Gospel wherever He went. His focus was on the country of Tibet, a land forsaken by many and reached by few. The Gospel had not reached very much of this land yet and there was a yearning for him to be there often, preaching the Gospel to the unreached. It was a day of extremes for me as my eyes took in never-before-seen images of poverty and wealth in such stark contrast. My heart and mind were lingering still in the unfinished pages of the story of a man who forsook all for the Gospel, everything was laid aside and I now write this in a sort of a daze, an unfinished realization of something that is so profound that I haven’t found words for it yet. I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know if I want to. If I continue to think about the reality of what I learned and saw today, I may be called to a way of living that begs the question, how much? How long? Is it worth it? I know the answer to each and yet, to be completely honest, my desire for escapism and comfort is begging me in the poverty of my heart with the same earnestness as the armless and legless man who I saw earlier today, to not ask the question, because it is easier to live without the answer. Yet beyond that answer, a world of freedom is calling me, a world too scant and uninformed, untravelled and unknown, ambiguous and quaint, yet it keeps calling. I feel it surrounding my head as much as the humidity of Bombay is crowding my skin. “Live in such a way to be the answer to the problems you see” is a word that I believe Ghandi said. Christ said something about doing unto the least of these and you have done it unto me. What do I say about that? Well, for now, it is easier to put it off and wait to forget that I want an answer.

This Sunday I preach about courage. Oh to know what that truly means! I know that despite this hanging reality, there is a greater reality that God does provide hope for us to truly love those He puts in our path. I guess the poverty of the soul really impresses onto our hearts that it is only Him that can minister through us and if we try on our own, without abiding in the vine, there is so little or no fruit that is born. This is what the Bombay blessing taught me. I was also taught not to see the people as they are, but to see them as God sees them, in their dignified potential image bearing state - and then to orient myself towards that beauty whether they are believers or not. As Stephanie has taught me, God always finishes with hope. Whether it starts with reality, pain or joy, He also finishes with hope. That is the Bombay blessing! Please pray with me that I would see these people through the eyes of our Savior and their loving Father and not my own truncated, cataracts, natural human view. Both are possible, one is impossible unless the Savior initiates it, but that's the one I want. To see the reality of beauty and image-bearing before I see the natural human world, and then to fight, fast, work, love and pray that "already not yet" image and beauty into existence alongside my hope giving Savior and under the influence and power of His Spirit with the Father's heart and hand guiding us.