LAND OF FIVE RIVERS

REFLECTIONS FROM PIONEERS SERVING HERE

How could someone best prepare to serve cross-culturally in your part of the world?

In our part of the world, the gospel of the kingdom unfolds like a little bit of yeast that works through a whole batch of dough. With patient ferment, the bread of life rises within desperate, unsatisfied souls longing for hope and true forgiveness of sins.

Those keen on cultivating relationships will thrive in our context. Folks with a passionate burden for sharing the gospel among the unreached and can simultaneously enculturate with humility and a learning posture, will thrive here. We are not looking for rote, machinegun assassins bearing Good News, but long-term strategists, wise and intentional, knowing when to hold back, non-anxious nurturers of trust who are able to discern contextual bridges and felt needs, able to discern and seize gospel-sharing opportunities as they arise with engagement uniquely tailored for each moment.

Can you share a funny story?

Early morning conversation begins with a casual interlacing of fingers and toes as if they were two lovers. Quickly, the affection devolves into agitated picking, rubbing, and then deep, nail-penetrating scratches that spread into a profusely accelerated search for relief—up, down, and along a brown, bony ankle and hairy calf. 

We sat in flimsy plastic chairs drinking chai, a bedroom off the main living area speaking in our best Hindi-Punjabi together, when my eyes caught the attention of several rounds of escalated digging, toe picking, and hopeful, interdigital rubbing as aunty skillfully made stuffed paranthe in the kitchen. 

My kind host, the younger brother in his mid-twenties, occasionally peeked in to observe progress of the day’s first meal. I knew full-well this youthful brother in Christ would show me the best hospitality by handing out breakfast. And with every scratch, pick, and rub, I knew, I. Just. Knew. those hands would go unwashed.

Cycles of relief seeking escalated as smoke from the tawa-made breakfast permeated my olfactory senses. Our host jumped up with joy to grab a basketful of steaming goodness, zipping quickly past the living room hand wash station, bounding forward to blessing me with the first serving.

I sat there, reluctantly knowing that he would use those same fungus-infused fingertips to hand me that first piping hot flatbread while repositioning a thick pat of butter just the same. Seeing this horror manifest before my eyes, my stomach tightened, my soul shriveled, but my mind quickened. 

Intuitively with honor, I passed the first serving over to their father sitting at my immediate left at the head of the table. I soothed my scolding conscience with the idea that certainly dad’s digestive system was more accustomed to his son’s toe jam and scabies than my own, hoping that most of it transferred to that first parantha and chunk of butter. I ate the second one without flinching.

What food do I absolutely need to try if I visit your host country?

Flat breads tie together any feast and can make up a significant portion of many meals alone – roti, parantha, butter naan, puri, and Amritsari Kulcha, which is a highlight in the north of the country. One might find this stuffed, leavened, tandoor crisped, flatbread, served with a huge pat of butter melting on top, along with chole (chickpea curry) or dal (lentils) along with vinegary pickled onions.

It tastes most delectable after a morning of intercession “in the gap” for Sikhs at their temple  with the steady music and mantra of the gurudwara within hearing range.