There are many things to love about Zambia. I love the genuine hospitality and welcoming smiles, the beautiful harmony of fiercely confident voices rising together in chorus, and even the children who innocently yell out "mzungu!!" when I drive by.
But there is one thing about this culture that frustrates me, makes me throw up my hands and cry out to the Lord.
No one believes they are lost.
Not one.
I suppose few people in any country would use the word "lost" to describe themselves, but however they verbalize it, they know.
I hear the stories of my friends serving in other countries...
In Southeast Asia, missionaries ask people, "how much of this [the gospel] do you believe?" Forty percent, fifty percent, sixty percent. However little or much these people accept, at least they are honest about it.
In post-modern Europe, young people don't see a need for God in their lives.
In the Muslim world, people actually dream of Jesus Christ reaching out his hands to them. They know the consequences of turning to him, and they count the cost.
The lostness in these corners of the world breaks my heart. I am not implying that it's easy ministering in those places; in fact I know it's downright hard. But I see a glimmer of hope in the fact that at the very least they are HONEST about where they stand in relationship to Jesus Christ.
In Zambia, "lost" always refers to someone else.
"There are those lost people in Somalia, but me, I am a Christian."
"I am a Christian...
...because I preach/ go to church/ sing in the choir." (because of my works)
...because Zambia is a Christian nation." (by proxy)
...because I'm not Muslim." (by default)
...because God blesses me." (because I hope to get something out of it)
These are the words I hear day after day and it wears on my heart, it keeps me awake, it steals my peace. I explain how being a Christian means following Christ, accepting his grace and our complete inability to earn his favor. They flash their beautiful smiles and nod in agreement, and then repeat their list of works, as if we are referring to the same gospel.
Their brand of Christianity is so often a thin faรงade for African Traditional Religion, where one hopes to obtain favor of the gods through sacrifices and rituals and consulting witch doctors. Only now the rituals are church uniforms or prescriptive prayers, and the witch doctors are false prophets.
Their brand of Christianity is so often a thin faรงade for African Traditional Religion, where one hopes to obtain favor of the gods through sacrifices and rituals and consulting witch doctors. Only now the rituals are church uniforms or prescriptive prayers, and the witch doctors are false prophets.
And sometimes I just sit and cry, because there is nothing I can do to convince them that their gospel is not Christ's gospel. I can go around and around in circles with them, but only the Holy Spirit can penetrate hearts.
Sometimes I wish I could trade places with my friends serving in "more lost" parts of the world.
Sometimes I feel like less of a missionary because Wikipedia claims that 87% of Zambia is Christian.
Sometimes I wrestle and ask God "Why do you have me here, a missionary among Pharisees?"
And then I remember.
"And the Lord said:
"BECAUSE this people draw near with their mouth
and honor me with their lips
while their hearts are far from me,
and their fear of me is but a commandment taught by men,
THEREFORE, BEHOLD, I WILL AGAIN DO WONDERFUL THINGS WITH THIS PEOPLE,
with wonder upon wonder;
and the wisdom of their wise men shall perish,
and the discernment of their discerning men shall be hidden."
Isaiah 29:13-14
Pray with me that this precious promise would be just as true for the people of Zambia as it was for the people of Israel. May He do wonderful things among this people.
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