MEATY: A Vision for Souls - by Amy Carmichael

Ezekiel 3:18-19 says, “When I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely die,’ and you give him no warning, nor speak to warn the wicked from his wicked way to save his life, that same wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood I will require at your hand. Yet, if you warn the wicked, and he does not turn from his wickedness, nor from his wicked way, he shall die in his iniquity but you have delivered your soul.”

These verses stress the vital importance of our Christian and biblical command to share the Gospel with the “heathen” (this term is outdated and unpopular, yet it is vital for mission-minded focus. “Heathen” refers to precious unsaved people who have never yet heard the Gospel message of God’s salvation through Jesus Christ). So often, we are distracted by good and busy activities, even in the church. The following vision, received by Amy Carmichael, compares these activities to making “daisy chains.” As you read this, may you allow the Lord to challenge your heart. May we “see” the waterfall of souls who so desperately need Him, and may we be more aware of God’s passionate love for these people, and allow His love to flow through us . . . through our prayers, our giving, and our obedience.

Give me the Love that leads the way
The Faith that nothing can dismay
The Hope no disappointments tire
The Passion that will burn like fire
Let me not sink to be a clod
Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.

-Amy Carmichael

Amy Carmichael
Missionary to India (1867-1951)

Amy Carmichael was born in Northern Ireland to a wealthy family. When she was eighteen, her father died, and as the eldest of seven children, Amy received much of the family responsibility. In 1892, at the age of twenty-four, Amy Carmichael received a “call to missions,” and soon left for Japan, and later, Ceylon. After returning home for a brief time, she finally set sail for the country that would become her long-term home: INDIA!

Within twelve years, Miss Carmichael had 130 children in her care and had rescued many hundreds more. For fifty-five years, she sacrificially lived and ministered in India…without even a furlough. Many others were inspired to join with her, and together with these co-workers, she established an Indian mission work called “The Dohnaver Fellowship”.

Amy Carmichael is best remembered for her life work of saving precious Indian children (especially rescuing many young girls from Hindu temple prostitution). Even today, through her books and writings, the impact of her life and testimony continues to challenge many to a deeper walk with the Lord, and a deeper commitment to His service.

Thy Brother’s Blood - A Vision for Souls

The tom-toms thumped straight on all night, and the darkness shuddered ‘round me like a living, feeling thing. I could not go to sleep, so I lay awake and looked; and I saw, as it seemed, this:

That I stood on a grassy precipice, and at my feet at crevice broke down into infinite space. I looked, but saw no bottom; only cloud shapes, black and furiously coiled, and great shadow-shrouded hollows, and unfathomable depths. Back I drew, dizzy at the depth.

Then I saw forms of people moving in single file along the grass. They were making for the edge. There was a woman with a baby in her arms and another little child holding onto her dress. She was on the very verge. Then I saw that she was blind. She lifted her foot for the next step…it trod air. She was over, and the children over with her. Oh, they cry as they went over! Then I saw more streams of people flowing from all quarters. All were blind, stone blind; and all made straight for the crevice’s edge. They were shrieks as they suddenly knew in themselves that they were falling, and a tossing up of helpless arms, catching, clutching at empty air. But some went over quietly and fell without a sound.

Then I wondered with a wonder that was simple agony, why no one stopped them at the edge. I could not, I was glued to the ground. And I could not call; though I strained and tried, only a whisper would come.

Then I saw that along the edge there were guards set at intervals. But the intervals were too great; there were wide, unguarded gaps between. And over these gaps the people fell in their blindness, quite unwarned; and the green grass seemed blood-red to me, and gulf yawned like the mouth of hell.

Then I saw, like a little picture of peace, a group of people under some trees with their backs turned towards the gulf. They were making daisy chains. Sometimes when a piercing shriek cut the quiet air and reached them, it disturbed them and they thought it a rather vulgar noise. And if one of their number started up and wanted to go and do something to help, then all the others would pull that one down. “Why should you get all excited about it? You must wait for a definite call to go! You haven’t finished your daisy chain yet. It would be really selfish,” they said, “to leave us to finish the work alone.”

There was another group. It was made up of people whose great desire was to get more guards out; but they found that very few wanted to go, and sometimes there were no guards set for miles and miles of the edge.

One girl stood alone in her place, waving the people back; but her mother and other relations called, and reminded her that her furlough was due; she must not break the rules. And being tired and needing a change, she had to go and rest for a while; but no one was sent to guard her gap, and over and over the people fell, like a waterfall of souls.

Once a child caught at a tuft of grass that grew at the very brink of the gulf; it clung convulsively, and it called — but nobody seemed to hear. Then the roots of the grass gave way, and with a cry the child went over, the two little hands still holding right to the torn-off bunch of grass. And the girl who longed to be back in her gap thought she heard the little one cry, and she sprang up and wanted to go; at which they reproved her, reminding her that no one is necessary anywhere; they gap would be well taken care of, they knew. And then they sang a hymn.

Then through the hymn came another sound like the pain of a million broken hearts wrung out in one full drop, one sob. And a horror of great darkness was upon me, for I knew what it was; the cry of the blood.

Then thundered a voice, the voice of the Lord. And he said, “What hast though done? The voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto Me from the ground.”

The ton-toms still beat heavily, and darkness still shuddered and shivered about me. I heard the yells of the devil-dancers and weird, wild shrieks of the devil-possessed just outside the gate.

What does it matter, after all? It has gone on for years; it will go on for years. Why make such a fuss about it? — God forgive us! God arouse us! Shame us out of our callousness! Shame us out of our sin!

Amy Carmichael, Thy Brother’s Blood Crieth:
(India: The Dohnavur Fellowship).
Obtained from an article from Bethany Fellowship, Inc.
Minneapolis, MN.

ON THE LIGHT SIDE: The Filipino Cure for Fleas

Our family was in a remote Filipino village on one of our first missionary trips, and the national pastor hosting us was very nervous.

“I’ve never hosted foreigners and don’t know what to feed you,” he said.

“Oh, we’re easy to please,” we responded naively. “Just relax; we’ll eat whatever you put before us.”

A few minutes later the pastor introduced us to the church women who were going to be cooking our food. One of them was eating this very different looking egg. It was black; and as she cracked it open, she started tugging at the insides–pulling out a black embryonic chick!

We found out that balut (a fertilized duck egg with a nearly developed embryo that is boiled and eaten in the shell) was a common Filipino food . . . and we were nervous.

The people gave us an esteemed room in the village — the only one with a rug. Unfortunately, the rug was totally infested with fleas; and within a few days my legs were covered with flea bites.

When the pastor saw the bug bites, he said, “Oh, that is terrible. We must do something about those fleas biting you. Yes, there is only one thing to do.”

“What is that?” we asked.

“Well, we must eat the dog. I was going to save it for a party, but I think we must eat it now.”

A few days later, Jon came into our room. “Guess what we’re having for dinner,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Not balut, I hoped. (I didn’t know if I was that good of a missionary yet.)

I went to visit the church women and to see our menu for myself. These precious ladies were cutting up some strange white-looking meat. When I asked what it was, they talked among themselves in their Filipino language of Tagolog and then went to find someone who could interpret.

A few minutes later one woman came in and distinctly pronounced with wonderful enunciation the new English word she had just learned.

“Dog.” she said.

“Dog?” I timidly asked, as my mind whirled with memories of special pets from my childhood.

The woman clarified herself: “Yes, you know — Ruff! Ruff!”

Yes, I knew far too well. But that’s what we and our kids had for dinner that night. Our menu actually consisted of nearly-raw dog meat and fried dog intestines.

And we still had fleas!

This story was excerpted from Ann’s book, The Mission-Minded Child - Raising a New Generation to Fulfill God’s Purpose (Authentic, 2007), Chapter 11, “Making Missions Fun - At Home, School, and Church”

ON THE LIGHT SIDE: Grasshoppers for Thanksgiving?

By Joshua Dunagan, at age thirteen

“So, what did you eat for Thanksgiving?”

During the week of Thanksgiving, my dad and I were across the world in Uganda, East Africa, holding evangelistic outreaches in remote cities out in the middle of nowhere. It was my second Thanksgiving holiday outside of America. But this time was really different.

In Africa, most people eat the same foods over and over again; at least we sure did.

Day after day, meal after meal, we had overcooked rice, matoke (mashed steamed bananas), and a few chunks of tough meat and guts. But for Thanksgiving we had a “special” African treat. Along with our standard food, we were given a plate full of greasy fried grasshoppers!! They were about two inches long, with the legs and head still on.

As I stared at these insects, thoughts flashed through my brain. I imagined all the yummy food my brothers and sisters were eating at Grandma’s house: turkey and pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes and gravy. I also remembered a time I had eaten big bugs before (at a kid’s camp when I was bribed with a bunch of candy). It wasn’t so hard to chug down an insect just once or twice on a dare, but this was different. It was Thanksgiving—and I was hungry!

Actually, they didn’t taste that bad. As I took my first bite, they reminded me of a cross between popcorn and shrimp—crunchy on the outside and a little gooey on the inside. Soon I was eating one after the other, even throwing them in the air and catching them in my mouth. I must have eaten about sixty of them by the time I was done!

By the way, the ministry went well that night.

We preached to thousands of people . . . and I felt just like John the Baptist!

(Note: Photo is actually our son, Joshua, at only 10-years-old, preaching the Gospel in Urua, Uganda)

Happy Mission-Minded Thanksgiving!

Related article on The Christian Post’s “Better Parents, Better Families” blog:

Give Ye, Them to Eat: Thanksgiving, Missions, & “Saints” - By Ann Dunagan

A Mission-Minded Thanksgiving article featuring Nate Saint (Ecuador missionary and martyr) and Rachel Saint (missionary with Wycliffe Bible Translators) - two world-renown Christian missionary heroes . . . from the same family!

MEATY Question #1 - Aren’t All Cultures Equally Valid?

As Christians, we bring the cross-cultural, life-changing message of Jesus Christ and His forgiveness for sin. Our purpose is not to propagate our own cultural standards, but to present the Gospel in a redeeming yet culturally sensitive way to all people we meet.

Q.

Aren’t ALL cultures equally valid?
Why should we try to change other people’s cultures?

A.

The core issue of this question stems from a false application of “multiculturalism” — one that is politically correct, educationally encouraged, and sounds nice. But leaving people trapped in sin and isolated from God’s hope of salvation isn’t the “considerate” option.

As Christians, we bring the cross-cultural, life-changing message of Jesus Christ and His forgiveness for sin. Our purpose is not to propagate our own cultural standards, but to present the Gospel in a redeeming yet culturally sensitive way to all people we meet. Eliminating the beautiful uniqueness of international culture is not the purpose of missions; at times, however, sinful elements of a particular culture may need to change.

I will never forget an interview I had with an outstanding Christian teenager who attended a public high school. This young man led a lunchtime “Bible club” and worship time that grew to reach 250 of his fellow classmates. He was writing a school research paper on Christian missionary work and, specifically, he was trying to support his thesis that “modern missionaries do not attempt to ‘change’ foreign cultures.”

I understood this young man’s heart. He was trying to explain how today’s Christian missionaries are different — more culturally appreciative and sensitive — than some of the old-time colonial missionaries (who attempted to expand all aspects of Western civilization throughout the world). But I still disagreed with his conclusion.

I asked this young man a pointed question. “But don’t you try to ‘change the culture’ of the people you are trying to reach? Just look at the typical ‘culture’ of the teens in your high school before they come to Jesus Christ! Look at the way they dress! Listen to their music, their foul language, and the way they address their teachers! What about the DVD’s they watch and the movies they sneak into? What about typical teenagers involved in premarital impurity, or the girls who’ve had abortions? Aren’t all of these a part of teen ‘culture’?”

I went on to explain to him, “Culture is life!! When you share Christ in your high school, of course you don’t want your friends to stop being teenagers — that’s who they are! But you do want Jesus Christ to totally transform the way they live and the way they make their decisions!”

Around the world, societies that have developed isolated from God’s laws and the gospel are filled with sinful cultural elements:

• tribal hatred, ancestral worship, and idolatry
• immoral sex, adultery, and prostitution
• drug addiction, drunkenness, and witchcraft
• abuse and neglect of women and children

As Christians, our job is to bring the light of Jesus to every precious culture. Through His Word and His Holy Spirit, God will show people the changes they need to make to redeem their cultures back to Him.

All people are equally valid. All cultures need Jesus.

Revelation 5:9

And they sang a new song, saying: “You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation.”

MEATY: A Timeless Passion for SOULS

It was over one hundred years ago, when a man earnestly poured out his heart to the Lord, in a prayer and a song, asking for more of God’s perspective and passion for the lost.

It’s really quite remarkable. Through one guy (named Herbert G. Tovey) and his prayers from way back in 1888, a fervency for the lost can actually penetrate into our thoughts and prayers TODAY (right now in 2009), to impact our focus.

Do you know how this can happen?
It’s because God’s perspective is timeless; and His passion is eternal.

Don’t you long for more of God’s eternal perspective about the Lord, and LIFE, and the lost . . . for more of God’s heart for people, and for more of His view of those who need His salvation? We need that eternal-God-perspective-for-souls to reach beyond our self-centerdness. We need God’s love to penetrate deeply into the hearts of others (both to people who need Jesus, and to Christians who need to share). The Lord wants people to know that He loves them and that He’s already provided for their salvation through His ultimate passion on the cross. The Lord cares so much. And we care too; but we we need to care more.

Hudson Taylor once said, “I feel I cannot go on living unless I do something for China.” Taylor knew that his life-purpose on earth reached far beyond his own desires. He was focused on eternity with God’s passion.

And that’s what we want.

A PASSION FOR SOULS

A missions poem and hymn - By Herbert G. Tovey, 1888

Give me a passion for souls, dear Lord,

A passion to save the lost;

O that Thy love were by all adored,

And welcomed at any cost.

Jesus I long, I long to be winning

Men who are lost, and constantly sinning;

O may this hour become of beginning

The story of pardon to tell . . .

How shall this passion for souls be mine?

Lord, make Thou the answer clear;

Help me to throw out the old life line

To those who are struggling near.

ON THE LIGHT SIDE: Mission Maker Magazine

Mission Maker Magazine

Ann’s article, “The Lighter Side of Missions,” published in Mission Maker Magazine, featured funny mission stories about rats, pit toilets, and eating grasshoppers. It’s a highlight from her book, The Mission-Minded Child - Raising a New Generation to Fulfill God’s Purpose.

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