So church today seemed to be as normal as ever, or as normal as church gets in India. We were worshiping and people were praying. A few started speaking in tongues - normal, though still strange to me.
Suddenly a woman began screaming and thrashing about. People and chairs were moved out of the way and several men and women rushed to her to contain her. Worship continued though prayers grew louder and louder calling, I assumed, for her deliverance from whatever was tormenting her.
She continued to scream and flail her arms and was held to the ground as men and women lay hands on her and prayed for her. I couldn't tell if she was saying anything - in Hindi or otherwise.
Worship didn't stop and everyone in the church cried out for her deliverance. I closed my eyes and prayed with them. I had heard dozens of stories just like this from ministry leaders and our church pastor himself, but was not expecting to see anything like it. I don't know if it was shock or fear or the Spirit but I could sense a strange presence and all I could do was cry out to God for this woman to be saved.
For nearly 15 minutes, or at least that's how long I thought, the intensity grew as she continued to scream. Tears came to my eyes as I pleaded with God for Him to move in the place and to destroy the power of whatever evil in the room. I admit it was a strange prayer, but I can't deny the reality I faced.
She quieted and when I opened my eyes again she was back in her seat. People returned to theirs and worship continued for another song. Everyone sat down and church resumed.
This is the sort of thing I expected only to talk about, all the while stating "I'm not sure where to fit this in my box." Spirits - evil ones at that - are not even whispered about in our Western circles. We've heard stories like this, but they are always heard upon skeptical ears.
I know what I saw and I know this was not the random outburst of a confused woman. It was something far deeper than that.
While she was on the ground one of my friends noticed the pastor taking off her rings. And in the process of it all her plastic bangles shattered into many small pieces. This was very interesting to me because the pastor shared with me a few weeks ago about a woman tormented by a demon who claimed to live in her nose ring. And it wasn't until they removed the ring (with great effort) that the woman was delivered and in a right mind!
It will be interesting to chat with the pastor tomorrow and ask him what he felt and heard and experienced as he prayed with the others over her.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Prayer
A friendly reminder to pray always.
Working on pictures from VBS. Posted this one from it today, but should post many more in the next few days. Stories to follow.
But I'm still consumed by the happenings in Iran. I really would love to hear your thoughts, so please email me.
Maybe I'm just crazy.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Massacre in Iran
What happens when a people are slaughtered to the silence of those who can take action.
Does God's heart not break for the people of Iran?
Will there be no Justice.
Do you want a political reason?
A people free from an oppressive theocracy and a madman dictator like Ahmadinejad will ease tension in the Middle East. A people freed with the help of the US and the West will score big points against anti-American sentiment. We can be the good people and a young people who aren't blinded by hate will recognize us as friend, not enemy.
Do you want a moral reason?
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing" - Edmund Burke.
Do you want an economic reason?
Better ties with Iran make for economic partnership (aside from oil). More trade=better economy.
Do you want a human reason?
Iranians are humans too.
Do you want a New Age-y, feel good reason?
Give peace a chance, yo.
Do you want a Biblical reason?
"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute." - Proverbs 31:9
"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place.es are upon you." - 2 Chronicles 7:14-15
"He saw that there was no one, he was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm worked salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him." - Isaiah 59:16
JESUS INTERCEDED FOR US.
"Streams of tears flow from my eyes because my people are destroyed.My eyes will flow unceasingly, without relief, until the LORD looks down from heaven and sees." - Lamentations 3:48-50
I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. - 1 Timothy 2:1-4
Pray.
Does God's heart not break for the people of Iran?
Will there be no Justice.
Do you want a political reason?
A people free from an oppressive theocracy and a madman dictator like Ahmadinejad will ease tension in the Middle East. A people freed with the help of the US and the West will score big points against anti-American sentiment. We can be the good people and a young people who aren't blinded by hate will recognize us as friend, not enemy.
Do you want a moral reason?
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing" - Edmund Burke.
Do you want an economic reason?
Better ties with Iran make for economic partnership (aside from oil). More trade=better economy.
Do you want a human reason?
Iranians are humans too.
Do you want a New Age-y, feel good reason?
Give peace a chance, yo.
Do you want a Biblical reason?
"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute." - Proverbs 31:9
"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place.es are upon you." - 2 Chronicles 7:14-15
"He saw that there was no one, he was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm worked salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him." - Isaiah 59:16
JESUS INTERCEDED FOR US.
"Streams of tears flow from my eyes because my people are destroyed.My eyes will flow unceasingly, without relief, until the LORD looks down from heaven and sees." - Lamentations 3:48-50
I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. - 1 Timothy 2:1-4
Pray.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
My Eyes Are Set On Freedom #Iranelection
I'm still consumed by the demonstrations in Iran. Please, if you haven't yet followed it, please start. Learn about it. Talk about it. Email, tweet, post, share, whatever. Just please don't be silent.
Above all, pray.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Micah 6:8
He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 8:8
There is still blood running in the streets of Tehran. Have you taken notice? Do you love justice like God loves Justice? Do you pray for mercy as God has Mercy? Have you humbled yourself as Christ Humbled himself?
A girl named Neda was killed recently in Tehran. Maybe 17 years old, she was observing the protests with her father when she was sniped by rooftop gunmen. She was the clear target as there were few around her.
Neda means "VOICE" or "CALL" in Farsi.
Don't let the voice of the Iranians demanding justice go silent by corruption of evil men and the timidity of good men.
Read her story.
I'll write about VBS soon. But this is still too important.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 8:8
There is still blood running in the streets of Tehran. Have you taken notice? Do you love justice like God loves Justice? Do you pray for mercy as God has Mercy? Have you humbled yourself as Christ Humbled himself?
A girl named Neda was killed recently in Tehran. Maybe 17 years old, she was observing the protests with her father when she was sniped by rooftop gunmen. She was the clear target as there were few around her.
Neda means "VOICE" or "CALL" in Farsi.
Don't let the voice of the Iranians demanding justice go silent by corruption of evil men and the timidity of good men.
Read her story.
I'll write about VBS soon. But this is still too important.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Further Iran Urgings
Dear Friends,
I don’t know why I’ve become so impassioned by the situation in Iran but I feel a great responsibility to speak up and speak out. If you haven’t heard the news, Tehran has been in chaos since the election results were declared in Iran, naming Mahmoud Ahmedinijed the winner for another 4 years. There have been numerous allegations and it is becoming increasingly clear that his “victory” is fraudulent. More than a million people have taken the streets in peaceful protest – only to be met by violent police and military resistance. Tehran has completely crippled any mainstream news media from reporting accurately the events in the city – exactly what you would not expect from a “Democratically elected government.” In an election where 80% of the electorate voted, the country knows they have been ripped off.
This is not simply a matter belonging to some other country, some other place. In the events that take place in the coming days, so much is at stake. The security and stability of the Middle East, four more years of tension and hate-mongering by the holocaust denying Ahmedinijed, and a people – not much different than you and I – taken hostage.
I have no idea what to ask any of you to do but more than anything else I want you all to read about it and pray about it. Pray that the Truth would come out. That the world would respond to the atrocities of this corrupt and hateful regime. That somehow God would open the doors for the country to be open. For Iran to be free.
As Americans we heard so much talk about war with Iran during the election. Right now, in this very moment, the world has the opportunity to force a madman out of office without a single bomb. Please talk with your friends about it. Educate yourself about what the heck is going on. Email your friends and family. Talk to your kids for crying out loud so that they will understand what it means to live in a free country!
Dozens are reported dead by semi-official media releases. Images online and the twitterworld suggest more than a hundred. Many innocent have been jailed for speaking out in masse.
Force yourself to watch and share the clips on youtube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBp2p3MGJqw
Browse images taken by professional media and civilian Iranians: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/06/irans_disputed_election.html
Follow the “news” on Twitter since all we have are brave youth with cell phones: http://twitter.com/#search?q=%23iranelection
Change your profile pics on all your social network sites and spread the news. http://www.flickr.com/photos/harrystaab/3631624611/
Write letters to the editors, call congressmen, or find some other way to show your support and demand the world listen.
Like I asked before, I beg of you again – please pray. But don’t do nothing about this. God calls us to stand up for the oppressed and to speak out against injustice. Our human hearts understand this without a Bible. Please.
Harry
Iran again
Iran is not some country over there. It's not someone else's problem.
Please read and learn about the atrocities taking place this very moment. The immoral and irreprehensible behaviors of the Iranian government. Call upon our leaders to act! Support Iran justice in any way you can.
Follow the Twitter conversation.
Watch this short video essay.
Change your profile pics on your facebook/myspace/twitter/blogger/etc.
Talk to your friends about it.
PRAY ABOUT IT!
Think for just a moment. Four more years of the dictator Ahmedinejid means four more years of worrying about our country, oppression of the Iranian people, and continued suppression of the Gospel.
People are dying for freedom. They are taking the streets peacefully and getting brutally beaten.
DON'T BE SILENT!
Iran
This is my plea to those of you in my circle to please follow the happenings in Iran. It is a big fat deal and shouldn't be ignored. Talk about it, read about it, and please pray about it.
http://twitpic.com/7hsb4
And no, I am not in danger. I'm in India, not Iran.
http://twitpic.com/7hsb4
And no, I am not in danger. I'm in India, not Iran.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Big Dreams
What a wonderful day. I slept in til 11:00AM for the first time in a long time it seems. Called X (the VBS guy I've been talking about) and headed down the hill to meet with him. Found him near Clocktower, pulled out money from the ATM and presented him with Rs. 21,500 (more than $430) to purchase bibles. With that money, the 20 bibles he planned to take to the village for VBS turns into 96. God will do great things because of your prayers and generousity!
X invited me for lunch at his home. Of course I accepted. We sat and talked and dreamed big dreams. Dreams of what God might do with him and his ministry. How lives can be touched. How to grow. How to partner with churches and missions organizations around the world. The dreaming was contagious. It snowballed in such an exciting and magnificent way. He brought out plans developed by EMI for land they own an hour's walk from Mussoorie. How can we use the land for God's glory while we wait for funds? How can we trust God to provide but be faithful in pursuing connections and relationships and using all he's given us? How can the building process glorify Him? How can provide jobs and economic empowerment to villagers? How can we partner with church groups to provide them opportunity to take part in the process?
Something really cool was happening. Our eyes kept getting bigger and bigger. Ideas just flooded the table.
X wants to do so much. He currently runs a medical ministry that provides medical services (basic aid and medicine) to several villages north of Mussoorie. It takes him 1-3 hours just to hike to any of them and he does this most days of the week. There are no roads, the paths are rock, dirt, steep and narrow. He operates out of a two room apartment in the nearest of these villages. He ministers to people's physical and spiritual needs. He brings healing medicine and healing Truth. He takes care of widows who have no land and tries to give them work and housing. He is developing vocational training to give people valuable skills to market themselves. He puts on medical seminars to teach hygiene, sanitation, first aid. He provides Bible teaching and childrens' VBS events.
He runs on who knows what support. Everything is, as he puts it, "by faith." How will we pay for more medicine? I don't know, God gave me this mission, He will provide. How can we pay for this building project? I don't know, God will provide. How will we do this or that? God can do it, He can do anything.
Oh, how I wish I could dream so big - and believe it! To read Jeremiah 29:11, Matthew 17:20, or Luke 1:37 and to take hold of it! To believe with everything that God is as big as He claims to be and that He can make a way, or provide, or answer, or resolve, or redeem.
It's like when we were children dreaming of all the things we hoped to become. To fly to space, to make the Major Leagues, to be famous actors - but God has even BIGGER things in store for us. What would happen if we took hold of that and followed Him wherever he leads.
Our dreaming continued through lunch and then chai. So many dreams. So many uncertainties. But always the hope of the promise God gives to us.
I cannot wait for VBS next weekend. I cannot wait to interact with young people from a completely different culture (village Indians). I can't wait to share the hope I have that is Christ.
Be in prayer!
X invited me for lunch at his home. Of course I accepted. We sat and talked and dreamed big dreams. Dreams of what God might do with him and his ministry. How lives can be touched. How to grow. How to partner with churches and missions organizations around the world. The dreaming was contagious. It snowballed in such an exciting and magnificent way. He brought out plans developed by EMI for land they own an hour's walk from Mussoorie. How can we use the land for God's glory while we wait for funds? How can we trust God to provide but be faithful in pursuing connections and relationships and using all he's given us? How can the building process glorify Him? How can provide jobs and economic empowerment to villagers? How can we partner with church groups to provide them opportunity to take part in the process?
Something really cool was happening. Our eyes kept getting bigger and bigger. Ideas just flooded the table.
X wants to do so much. He currently runs a medical ministry that provides medical services (basic aid and medicine) to several villages north of Mussoorie. It takes him 1-3 hours just to hike to any of them and he does this most days of the week. There are no roads, the paths are rock, dirt, steep and narrow. He operates out of a two room apartment in the nearest of these villages. He ministers to people's physical and spiritual needs. He brings healing medicine and healing Truth. He takes care of widows who have no land and tries to give them work and housing. He is developing vocational training to give people valuable skills to market themselves. He puts on medical seminars to teach hygiene, sanitation, first aid. He provides Bible teaching and childrens' VBS events.
He runs on who knows what support. Everything is, as he puts it, "by faith." How will we pay for more medicine? I don't know, God gave me this mission, He will provide. How can we pay for this building project? I don't know, God will provide. How will we do this or that? God can do it, He can do anything.
Oh, how I wish I could dream so big - and believe it! To read Jeremiah 29:11, Matthew 17:20, or Luke 1:37 and to take hold of it! To believe with everything that God is as big as He claims to be and that He can make a way, or provide, or answer, or resolve, or redeem.
It's like when we were children dreaming of all the things we hoped to become. To fly to space, to make the Major Leagues, to be famous actors - but God has even BIGGER things in store for us. What would happen if we took hold of that and followed Him wherever he leads.
“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
Matthew 6:31-34
Matthew 6:31-34
Our dreaming continued through lunch and then chai. So many dreams. So many uncertainties. But always the hope of the promise God gives to us.
I cannot wait for VBS next weekend. I cannot wait to interact with young people from a completely different culture (village Indians). I can't wait to share the hope I have that is Christ.
Be in prayer!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Bibles for Village VBS
For Rs. 280 ($5.60) you can provide a bible to be given to one of the 120+ children (ages 5-17) during VBS at a local village. The ministry putting this up only had resources to purchase 20 but with a little help from some friends (you know who you are) that has changed to nearly 80! If you want to sponsor some Bibles please let me know. Wouldn't it be so great to see a Bible in the hands of every child! I've been hearing that there is so much receptivity to the gospel in the hills nearby. Parents have even asked to sit in and learn during the VBS! People are curious about this Je$u$ fellow. And when they meet him, which they will with prayer and support of the ministries around here. How blessed we are and what great an opportunity to spread Truth, Hope, and Love.
Please email me: hstaab@gmail.com if you want to contribute. If you don't feel led to financially support, please, please, please pray that many would come and hear and accept the message of Truth!
Can't wait to share what God will do next weekend with VBS.
Please email me: hstaab@gmail.com if you want to contribute. If you don't feel led to financially support, please, please, please pray that many would come and hear and accept the message of Truth!
Can't wait to share what God will do next weekend with VBS.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Birthday in India
Yesterday, June 7, was my 22nd birthday, or 23rd if you are Indian I think. 'Twas great fun!
I slept in and nearly missed church. I felt terrible, but not enough to miss church. Church was packed with guests from Indiana. It was hot and stuffy and I rushed out for fresh air as soon as it was over. Not the best start to my birthday, feeling so weird and all.
My eMi friends who were still around took me to Clocktower Cafe, my favorite eatery, for lunch. I ordered a plate of spaghetti (yum). Ivy made me a handmade card with lots of encouraging notes in it and Ed gave me a framed picture from our first project trip - me surrounded by kids playing with my camera. I coulda cried, but men don't do such things. It makes it hard to see and punch things accurately.
After stuffed full, we walked back to Tipp and I sat and read some more Narnia. In two days I flew through Prince Caspian and the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I'll be done with the Silver Chair tonight I suppose. We helped out our neighbor moving big heavy trunks and dressers and such. Didn't make me feel very good. But it was a good workout.
The guys left for a while and we were to meet back up for cake - CHEESECAKE! - later. The time passed and neither friends nor cake were present. But I kept reading. Ivy showed up and kept me company and we had a delightful conversation (we've had a few of those lately). As soon as she picked up her phone to call about the cake, it showed up. Not soon later, the guys were all around and the party began.
For the first time in a long time (or at least I think it was a long time) I blew out a candle on a cake. I had to share it (the two candles) with Ryan (as his birthday is in a week or so), but I suppose there are worse people to do such things with. More warm and fuzzies. Ryan busted out some blueberry jam and the cheesecake tasted like heaven.
Night fell and us interns headed "downtown" to meet more friends and shoot pool. We reminisced about birthdays along the way. The long walk wasn't a bother at all.
We found the hole-in-the-wall pool hall and played till our friends came - and played some more. I impressed with one or two great streaks but was overall pretty mediocre.
Management finally kicked us out about 11pm and we meandered back through the Mall (Mall road that is). We stopped at an arcade and played a game of intense air hockey. Ko and I held on to our lead in an exciting finish.
We grabbed gulab jamin (like a donut hole soaked in syrup) and headed back up to Tipp, being silly. Halfway up, when some of our friends split off, they broke into song: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU...! Like cats on a fence in the cartoons I was sure someone would throw a shoe at them. But it was great.
You know that phrase we use all too liberally, "I'll never forget this"? Well, I've said that countless times to events I've undoubtedly forgotten over the years, but I can't help but think this time its true. I'll never forget my birthday in India.
Another thing I just remembered. A lot of Christians around here, especially those born in the villages, don't know their real birthdays. So you know what they usually prefer to use and celebrate? Their baptism. How cool is that. Now that's a real birthday!
I slept in and nearly missed church. I felt terrible, but not enough to miss church. Church was packed with guests from Indiana. It was hot and stuffy and I rushed out for fresh air as soon as it was over. Not the best start to my birthday, feeling so weird and all.
My eMi friends who were still around took me to Clocktower Cafe, my favorite eatery, for lunch. I ordered a plate of spaghetti (yum). Ivy made me a handmade card with lots of encouraging notes in it and Ed gave me a framed picture from our first project trip - me surrounded by kids playing with my camera. I coulda cried, but men don't do such things. It makes it hard to see and punch things accurately.
After stuffed full, we walked back to Tipp and I sat and read some more Narnia. In two days I flew through Prince Caspian and the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I'll be done with the Silver Chair tonight I suppose. We helped out our neighbor moving big heavy trunks and dressers and such. Didn't make me feel very good. But it was a good workout.
The guys left for a while and we were to meet back up for cake - CHEESECAKE! - later. The time passed and neither friends nor cake were present. But I kept reading. Ivy showed up and kept me company and we had a delightful conversation (we've had a few of those lately). As soon as she picked up her phone to call about the cake, it showed up. Not soon later, the guys were all around and the party began.
For the first time in a long time (or at least I think it was a long time) I blew out a candle on a cake. I had to share it (the two candles) with Ryan (as his birthday is in a week or so), but I suppose there are worse people to do such things with. More warm and fuzzies. Ryan busted out some blueberry jam and the cheesecake tasted like heaven.
Night fell and us interns headed "downtown" to meet more friends and shoot pool. We reminisced about birthdays along the way. The long walk wasn't a bother at all.
We found the hole-in-the-wall pool hall and played till our friends came - and played some more. I impressed with one or two great streaks but was overall pretty mediocre.
Management finally kicked us out about 11pm and we meandered back through the Mall (Mall road that is). We stopped at an arcade and played a game of intense air hockey. Ko and I held on to our lead in an exciting finish.
We grabbed gulab jamin (like a donut hole soaked in syrup) and headed back up to Tipp, being silly. Halfway up, when some of our friends split off, they broke into song: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU...! Like cats on a fence in the cartoons I was sure someone would throw a shoe at them. But it was great.
You know that phrase we use all too liberally, "I'll never forget this"? Well, I've said that countless times to events I've undoubtedly forgotten over the years, but I can't help but think this time its true. I'll never forget my birthday in India.
Another thing I just remembered. A lot of Christians around here, especially those born in the villages, don't know their real birthdays. So you know what they usually prefer to use and celebrate? Their baptism. How cool is that. Now that's a real birthday!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Evil Spirits, Demon Posession and other Weird and Creepy Topics that make us Westerners all Uncomfortable and Such
Last night I went to cell group at our pastor's house. After a fantastic dinner of buff and momos he shared with us about recent happenings. It turned into one of the most fascinating conversations of my time in India. I'll do my best to share and reflect and who knows, to maybe challenge you to rethink your own box.
Before I start, let me share a few verses that I hope you will keep in mind.
16 They made him jealous with their foreign gods
and angered him with their detestable idols.
My pastor (let's call him Z for ease), has been in the business of deliverance for many years now. Casting out demons, freeing people from evil spirits, healing unexplained ailments - you name it, he's got a story about it. Now before you roll your eyes and scoff, please hear me out as I try to tell Z's story.
Z is a very Westernized Indian pastor from Garhwal, the Himalayan mountain region north of Mussoorie. He was born into a Hindu family and met Jesus in his teens. The encounter impacted him so greatly that by the age of 15 or so he was already preaching the gospel. He continued to learn, taking classes and studying the Bible. One day God gave him the calling to preach the gospel in Garhwal, to his people. More than ten years ago, he started a new church here and has been discipling and training pastors to preach in the villages.
By chance one day, he was asked to cast out a spirit from a woman down the hill. He was hesitant but, being the only pastor these people could find, he accepted. He had no idea what he was in for. He recalled how powerful the experience was, too powerful for him. He wasn't prepared, and he did not succeed in the effort.
Over the next years he continued to pour over the scriptures, arming himself with God's word. When he was called upon again, with God's power, people were delivered.
Z is a very wise man. He speaks with a clarity and understanding of the God's power that I've heard from few others. He never speaks with simplistic arguments but always with a holistic, multi-faceted view of things. He knows God's word. He practices what he preaches. And he preaches without mincing words. He's been a life-long learner, citing all the books he's read and experiences he's had, and a gifted teacher.
The past couple of weeks, Z has been taking part of what he calls "Deliverance Ministry." Villagers from all over are brought together and several pastors pray and confront and cast out evil spirits and demons. He described remarkable stories from this event.
A spirit in one woman called out that he resided in her nose ring - a precious gift from her husband who passed away. Nothing could draw the spirit from this woman until they took off the nose ring. He described it as a very strange event, the woman writhing and struggling until it was finally taken off.
Other demons claimed to live in stomachs, causing great pain. Others in arms and legs. But by the authority of Jesus, none would remain.
Many came to acknowledge the power of Christ as a result. Many accepted the grace given to them by the One True God.
I hung on to every word, all of this so foreign to me. He asked us why the Church in the West generally doesn't acknowledge the spirit world.
Somewhere along history, we stopped recognizing that there is a greater force at work in this world than can be explained by mere science. In the East, this is a part of everyday life. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals are worshiped. These spirits had the power to bring ruin and disease. The power to destroy people. So they have been feared and appeased for countless centuries.
This power has captured billions of people. I cannot deny the glazed look of hundreds of Sadhus and pilgrims in Rishikesh and Haridwar. Men and women stoic, lifeless. People passing by with fixed eyes, as if in a trance. India is a country filled with people captured by lies.
Z argued that perhaps 80% of the country is possessed. How can this not be true, he said, when so many worship and call upon the millions of gods and goddesses in Hinduism. An interesting point I thought. Why would Satan not accept such an invitation?
That then brought up the question, why the West resists notions like these. But here, men worship not spirits but material possessions. Can an argument made that this relentless pursuit has not captured us?
But could it be that what we call mental disorders like schizophrenia could be the work of something greater? Z described personal instances in which he has seen people freed from demons who exhibited such torment.
Throughout the Bible, there was no doubt that spirits had a power and authority in this world. Countless sick and possessed were brought to Jesus to be healed and delivered. Strange that many of us put that aside. That was then, we may say. But the Word says: "1For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12)
The greatest part of the discussion was when Z began to talk about how we must work out our salvation. When Jesus comes into our hearts we are saved and made new. But this of course does not mean we are immune to trouble, free from sin. We must always be working to grow in the knowledge of him. We must always strive towards justification, to show the work God is ALWAYS doing in us. It is not enough to call Jesus the Lord of our hearts when our mind and our eyes and our tongue and the actions of our hands say otherwise.
God wants ALL of our being. He is a jealous God. El Kanna.
He is the God who saved me, a sinner deserving of death and I rarely find the time to sit in his presence and study his word? He showers blessing upon my life yet I am reckless with my time and money when I could be a blessing to others?
What does it say to others about me, about Christians, if God is not Lord of my everything?
Needless to say it was convicting to hear. It gets way to easy to get caught up with Flickr stats and comments. To glide lazily through the day with work and photoshop and surfing without acknowledging my Creator. To think I've been captured by so many things in this world. That I need deliverance too.
Before I start, let me share a few verses that I hope you will keep in mind.
16 They made him jealous with their foreign gods
and angered him with their detestable idols.
17 They sacrificed to demons, which are not God—
gods they had not known,
gods that recently appeared,
gods your fathers did not fear.
18 You deserted the Rock, who fathered you;
you forgot the God who gave you birth.
--Deuteronomy 32:17
2When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an evil spirit came from the tombs to meet him. 3This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him any more, not even with a chain. 4For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. 5Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.
6When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. 7He shouted at the top of his voice, "What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? Swear to God that you won't torture me!" 8For Jesus had said to him, "Come out of this man, you evil spirit!"
9Then Jesus asked him, "What is your name?"
"My name is Legion," he replied, "for we are many."
--Mark 5:2-9
8Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 9"All this I will give you," he said, "if you will bow down and worship me."
10Jesus said to him, "Away from me, Satan! For it is written: 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.'d]">[d]"
--Matthew 5:8-10
My pastor (let's call him Z for ease), has been in the business of deliverance for many years now. Casting out demons, freeing people from evil spirits, healing unexplained ailments - you name it, he's got a story about it. Now before you roll your eyes and scoff, please hear me out as I try to tell Z's story.
Z is a very Westernized Indian pastor from Garhwal, the Himalayan mountain region north of Mussoorie. He was born into a Hindu family and met Jesus in his teens. The encounter impacted him so greatly that by the age of 15 or so he was already preaching the gospel. He continued to learn, taking classes and studying the Bible. One day God gave him the calling to preach the gospel in Garhwal, to his people. More than ten years ago, he started a new church here and has been discipling and training pastors to preach in the villages.
By chance one day, he was asked to cast out a spirit from a woman down the hill. He was hesitant but, being the only pastor these people could find, he accepted. He had no idea what he was in for. He recalled how powerful the experience was, too powerful for him. He wasn't prepared, and he did not succeed in the effort.
Over the next years he continued to pour over the scriptures, arming himself with God's word. When he was called upon again, with God's power, people were delivered.
Z is a very wise man. He speaks with a clarity and understanding of the God's power that I've heard from few others. He never speaks with simplistic arguments but always with a holistic, multi-faceted view of things. He knows God's word. He practices what he preaches. And he preaches without mincing words. He's been a life-long learner, citing all the books he's read and experiences he's had, and a gifted teacher.
The past couple of weeks, Z has been taking part of what he calls "Deliverance Ministry." Villagers from all over are brought together and several pastors pray and confront and cast out evil spirits and demons. He described remarkable stories from this event.
A spirit in one woman called out that he resided in her nose ring - a precious gift from her husband who passed away. Nothing could draw the spirit from this woman until they took off the nose ring. He described it as a very strange event, the woman writhing and struggling until it was finally taken off.
Other demons claimed to live in stomachs, causing great pain. Others in arms and legs. But by the authority of Jesus, none would remain.
Many came to acknowledge the power of Christ as a result. Many accepted the grace given to them by the One True God.
I hung on to every word, all of this so foreign to me. He asked us why the Church in the West generally doesn't acknowledge the spirit world.
Somewhere along history, we stopped recognizing that there is a greater force at work in this world than can be explained by mere science. In the East, this is a part of everyday life. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals are worshiped. These spirits had the power to bring ruin and disease. The power to destroy people. So they have been feared and appeased for countless centuries.
This power has captured billions of people. I cannot deny the glazed look of hundreds of Sadhus and pilgrims in Rishikesh and Haridwar. Men and women stoic, lifeless. People passing by with fixed eyes, as if in a trance. India is a country filled with people captured by lies.
Z argued that perhaps 80% of the country is possessed. How can this not be true, he said, when so many worship and call upon the millions of gods and goddesses in Hinduism. An interesting point I thought. Why would Satan not accept such an invitation?
That then brought up the question, why the West resists notions like these. But here, men worship not spirits but material possessions. Can an argument made that this relentless pursuit has not captured us?
But could it be that what we call mental disorders like schizophrenia could be the work of something greater? Z described personal instances in which he has seen people freed from demons who exhibited such torment.
Throughout the Bible, there was no doubt that spirits had a power and authority in this world. Countless sick and possessed were brought to Jesus to be healed and delivered. Strange that many of us put that aside. That was then, we may say. But the Word says: "1For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12)
The greatest part of the discussion was when Z began to talk about how we must work out our salvation. When Jesus comes into our hearts we are saved and made new. But this of course does not mean we are immune to trouble, free from sin. We must always be working to grow in the knowledge of him. We must always strive towards justification, to show the work God is ALWAYS doing in us. It is not enough to call Jesus the Lord of our hearts when our mind and our eyes and our tongue and the actions of our hands say otherwise.
God wants ALL of our being. He is a jealous God. El Kanna.
He is the God who saved me, a sinner deserving of death and I rarely find the time to sit in his presence and study his word? He showers blessing upon my life yet I am reckless with my time and money when I could be a blessing to others?
What does it say to others about me, about Christians, if God is not Lord of my everything?
Needless to say it was convicting to hear. It gets way to easy to get caught up with Flickr stats and comments. To glide lazily through the day with work and photoshop and surfing without acknowledging my Creator. To think I've been captured by so many things in this world. That I need deliverance too.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Boldness
An Indian friend of mine shared an interesting experience with me the other day. He traveled home last week to see his family and attend his cousin's wedding.
My friend is a Christian. He was raised Hindu. God stopped him in his tracks in his many years ago when his cousin (this one getting married) offered to pray for him one night. It blew him away. Pray, sure that's fine, but to me? He thought. There was no idol, there were no mantras. Just a plea to "Jesus" to help him.
That prayer set off a wildfire and the next years were spent learning about this Jesus. He took classes and read the Bible. One day God spoke to him in the night. As clear as a bell. He gave his life to Jesus.
So back to this trip home. His cousin is getting married a second time. Evidently there was a falling out with his first wife and they separated without a legal divorce. She ran off somewhere. This new wife is Hindu. The cousin who first led him to Christ seemed to be a little off the path.
The wedding was very strange for my friend to observe. It was presided over by several Christian pastors, but because the bride's family is Hindu, there were many Hindu rituals allowed to take place. The Word was not spoken.
After the wedding ceremony, the couple, the pastors, and the guests were all in some room - I don't quite know. My friend could not keep quiet and he stood up and shared from the Word. He called out the pastors who approved of his cousin marrying a Hindu woman, who said not a word about his previous marriage still legally unsettled.
His cousin was in tears. The pastors were convicted. All thought he was a pastor himself. No, just a follower of Jesus. It doesn't take a title to read the Bible and to know the Truth.
I was blown away by his conviction and his boldness. How many times have I felt the urge to stand up in my own circumstances and call out those around me? How many times have I kept quiet when lies ran rampant.
This was convicting to me. I hope it's a challenge to you.
My friend is a Christian. He was raised Hindu. God stopped him in his tracks in his many years ago when his cousin (this one getting married) offered to pray for him one night. It blew him away. Pray, sure that's fine, but to me? He thought. There was no idol, there were no mantras. Just a plea to "Jesus" to help him.
That prayer set off a wildfire and the next years were spent learning about this Jesus. He took classes and read the Bible. One day God spoke to him in the night. As clear as a bell. He gave his life to Jesus.
So back to this trip home. His cousin is getting married a second time. Evidently there was a falling out with his first wife and they separated without a legal divorce. She ran off somewhere. This new wife is Hindu. The cousin who first led him to Christ seemed to be a little off the path.
The wedding was very strange for my friend to observe. It was presided over by several Christian pastors, but because the bride's family is Hindu, there were many Hindu rituals allowed to take place. The Word was not spoken.
After the wedding ceremony, the couple, the pastors, and the guests were all in some room - I don't quite know. My friend could not keep quiet and he stood up and shared from the Word. He called out the pastors who approved of his cousin marrying a Hindu woman, who said not a word about his previous marriage still legally unsettled.
His cousin was in tears. The pastors were convicted. All thought he was a pastor himself. No, just a follower of Jesus. It doesn't take a title to read the Bible and to know the Truth.
I was blown away by his conviction and his boldness. How many times have I felt the urge to stand up in my own circumstances and call out those around me? How many times have I kept quiet when lies ran rampant.
This was convicting to me. I hope it's a challenge to you.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Agra
So we went to Agra this last weekend. Saw the Taj, saw Red Fort, yadda yadda yadda. It was big it was beautiful it was stunning. Did you expect something else? Open up your thesaurus and look up the word "spectacular." Done? That's what it was. I painted the picture, I set the scene, you were practically there.
You are dropped off as close as they allow and hop on an official bus to take you the rest of the way. Walk the remaining 2 minutes to the gate. Ignore the shopkeepers, the little boys begging you to buy their postcards, the calls of "yes sir! please sir! one minute sir! come see my shop!" Pay the foreigner tax, 40x the rate of the Indian. Take a deep breath, it was your people who raped and pillaged this land anyways.
Your heart skips a beat as you approach the arched entry. There it is. The most beautiful building in the world. Mmm. All the heat in the world couldn't stop you from enjoying the moment.
A man who claims to be the gardener sees your camera and offers to show you some great places to take "nice photo." You realize too late he'll inevitably expect money. The pictures are good, and you pay him more than he deserves. Yet he still has the gaul to stare back at you in disgust.
You finally leave the grounds, waving goodbye as if expecting the Taj to wave back.
Again ignore the shopkeepers. A young boy with postcards from before pleads even more. His price drops quickly. "My name is Amit! Please. 20 rupees!"
After lunch, Pizza Hut of all places, head to the Agra Red Fort. Even if you wanted sunglasses, a hat, peacock fans, postcards, and other diddly doo-dads, ignore. You'll just get swamped with more. Get to the gate. No, the Taj ticket does not include entry into the Fort like you were told. Fine print is universal. Pay more foreigner tax. Take a deep breath.
Smile and look around. How did they carve this? Wow! Cool! The tour guide offered you a great deal and he tells great stories. Your eyes meet those around you. It looks as if you and your group are the attraction. Cell phones are raised to take your picture, or rather the picture of your friend's blonde sister. Some are even less subtle.
The tour ends and your guide gives you the classic "whatever you want to give" spiel. You pay him more than he asked for at the beginning - it was a good tour. He milks you for more. Walk away. You could never give enough to deserve something less akward or disheartening.
Nahi. Nahi. No, I don't want that. Get in the taxi. Take a deep breath.
Nearly out of Agra the car stops in the traffic. A young girl sees you, your pale skin. She taps on the window. Her face and hands are dirty, her clothes look old and ratty. Five, maybe six years old? You want to look. You want to look away. In the middle of it all, turn with sad eyes to meet hers. Something breaks inside of you. Shrug and smile.
She forgets all about your money.
She smiles back! You make a face and she does too. The car starts to move. You want to jump out of the car and give her a hug. Damnit she deserves at least that! As she slips further away she waves. She waves!
You sit quiet for a long time.
On the outskirts of Delhi, traffic slows. A crowded jeep pulls up next to the car. Too many people in one vehicle, though not nearly as many as you've seen. You catch the eyes of a few kids inside. Smile and wave. The car begins to move again. They pause a moment and then several pairs of hands reach out the window to wave back. Grins all around. You see them 10 minutes later. They're still smiling. So you wave again.
Get back to wherever it is you call home, whether permanent or temporary. Sit and reflect.
You are dropped off as close as they allow and hop on an official bus to take you the rest of the way. Walk the remaining 2 minutes to the gate. Ignore the shopkeepers, the little boys begging you to buy their postcards, the calls of "yes sir! please sir! one minute sir! come see my shop!" Pay the foreigner tax, 40x the rate of the Indian. Take a deep breath, it was your people who raped and pillaged this land anyways.
Your heart skips a beat as you approach the arched entry. There it is. The most beautiful building in the world. Mmm. All the heat in the world couldn't stop you from enjoying the moment.
A man who claims to be the gardener sees your camera and offers to show you some great places to take "nice photo." You realize too late he'll inevitably expect money. The pictures are good, and you pay him more than he deserves. Yet he still has the gaul to stare back at you in disgust.
You finally leave the grounds, waving goodbye as if expecting the Taj to wave back.
Again ignore the shopkeepers. A young boy with postcards from before pleads even more. His price drops quickly. "My name is Amit! Please. 20 rupees!"
After lunch, Pizza Hut of all places, head to the Agra Red Fort. Even if you wanted sunglasses, a hat, peacock fans, postcards, and other diddly doo-dads, ignore. You'll just get swamped with more. Get to the gate. No, the Taj ticket does not include entry into the Fort like you were told. Fine print is universal. Pay more foreigner tax. Take a deep breath.
Smile and look around. How did they carve this? Wow! Cool! The tour guide offered you a great deal and he tells great stories. Your eyes meet those around you. It looks as if you and your group are the attraction. Cell phones are raised to take your picture, or rather the picture of your friend's blonde sister. Some are even less subtle.
The tour ends and your guide gives you the classic "whatever you want to give" spiel. You pay him more than he asked for at the beginning - it was a good tour. He milks you for more. Walk away. You could never give enough to deserve something less akward or disheartening.
Nahi. Nahi. No, I don't want that. Get in the taxi. Take a deep breath.
Nearly out of Agra the car stops in the traffic. A young girl sees you, your pale skin. She taps on the window. Her face and hands are dirty, her clothes look old and ratty. Five, maybe six years old? You want to look. You want to look away. In the middle of it all, turn with sad eyes to meet hers. Something breaks inside of you. Shrug and smile.
She forgets all about your money.
She smiles back! You make a face and she does too. The car starts to move. You want to jump out of the car and give her a hug. Damnit she deserves at least that! As she slips further away she waves. She waves!
You sit quiet for a long time.
On the outskirts of Delhi, traffic slows. A crowded jeep pulls up next to the car. Too many people in one vehicle, though not nearly as many as you've seen. You catch the eyes of a few kids inside. Smile and wave. The car begins to move again. They pause a moment and then several pairs of hands reach out the window to wave back. Grins all around. You see them 10 minutes later. They're still smiling. So you wave again.
Get back to wherever it is you call home, whether permanent or temporary. Sit and reflect.
An Indian Wedding
Taken from my journal for school.
----
About a week before the ceremony was to take place I was volunteered to play the role of official wedding photographer for a wedding at my church. Though I would rather have been asked, I was thrilled with the opportunity. With our project published and only minor in-house projects to do, I was able to take off early from work the last two days of the week to meet with the family of the bride and capture some traditional Garhwali pre-wedding rituals.
Thursday I was asked to meet the family and take pictures of a “Haldi” ceremony in which the bride is covered from head to toe with this yellowish cream in order to make her skin fairer. Interesting how most in the west seem always to try to darken their skin with tanning and creams, but here there is a fascination for paler skin. I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side. I was told to come at 6:00 and like a good, timely Westerner I was there at 5:55. I was the first to arrive. Unfortunately, I was also the only to arrive for the next hour or so. The guests (and the bride) finally showed up and the party started around 7:30, so I enjoyed a couple cups of chai with the parents of the bride. When the Haldi began, it was utter chaos. Dozens of hands reached into the yellow cream and spread it over the bride’s face, arms and legs, and then all over one another! The night ended with dinner and dancing (to the same song over and over again).
Friday I was invited to document the “Henna” ceremony, where the bride’s arms are covered with beautiful patterns with another cream that leaves a temporary tattoo. I learned from my mistake in showing up early, though evidently not well enough. This time the event didn’t start until 8:30! At least the company was fun. While the bride and younger cousins were having the henna done, everyone else danced (again to the same song).
Finally the wedding day arrived. Figuring such an important event would inspire a greater sense of urgency and promptness, I showed up right on time. I was to take pictures of the bride and her family, all dressed up and ready before the wedding ceremony. Ha! Finally, with some 20 minutes before the wedding, I was given five minutes to take some shots. In hindsight, they could have given me that hour anyway, as the groom and his family (crammed like sardines into two vehicles) arrived more than an hour late! The ceremony began and I nervously clicked through the processions and proceedings, not wanting to miss an important moment. Cake was cut, food was served, and dancing ensued (again to the same song). As with the Easter picnic, I danced too of course. Despite the hiccups and the lateness and the repetitive music, the event was an exciting and fun time. It was truly a highlight of this whole experience.
----
About a week before the ceremony was to take place I was volunteered to play the role of official wedding photographer for a wedding at my church. Though I would rather have been asked, I was thrilled with the opportunity. With our project published and only minor in-house projects to do, I was able to take off early from work the last two days of the week to meet with the family of the bride and capture some traditional Garhwali pre-wedding rituals.
Thursday I was asked to meet the family and take pictures of a “Haldi” ceremony in which the bride is covered from head to toe with this yellowish cream in order to make her skin fairer. Interesting how most in the west seem always to try to darken their skin with tanning and creams, but here there is a fascination for paler skin. I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side. I was told to come at 6:00 and like a good, timely Westerner I was there at 5:55. I was the first to arrive. Unfortunately, I was also the only to arrive for the next hour or so. The guests (and the bride) finally showed up and the party started around 7:30, so I enjoyed a couple cups of chai with the parents of the bride. When the Haldi began, it was utter chaos. Dozens of hands reached into the yellow cream and spread it over the bride’s face, arms and legs, and then all over one another! The night ended with dinner and dancing (to the same song over and over again).
Friday I was invited to document the “Henna” ceremony, where the bride’s arms are covered with beautiful patterns with another cream that leaves a temporary tattoo. I learned from my mistake in showing up early, though evidently not well enough. This time the event didn’t start until 8:30! At least the company was fun. While the bride and younger cousins were having the henna done, everyone else danced (again to the same song).
Finally the wedding day arrived. Figuring such an important event would inspire a greater sense of urgency and promptness, I showed up right on time. I was to take pictures of the bride and her family, all dressed up and ready before the wedding ceremony. Ha! Finally, with some 20 minutes before the wedding, I was given five minutes to take some shots. In hindsight, they could have given me that hour anyway, as the groom and his family (crammed like sardines into two vehicles) arrived more than an hour late! The ceremony began and I nervously clicked through the processions and proceedings, not wanting to miss an important moment. Cake was cut, food was served, and dancing ensued (again to the same song). As with the Easter picnic, I danced too of course. Despite the hiccups and the lateness and the repetitive music, the event was an exciting and fun time. It was truly a highlight of this whole experience.
The past month in brief
I haven't written here in a month, shame on me. And so much has happened! So here is a quick list to get you up to speed and to help me decide on what to write:
- Played the role of 'Official Wedding Photographer' at a Christian Indian wedding ceremony one weekend.
- Spent lots of money (relatively) on photo prints to share with friends here.
- Said goodbye to a wonderful staff family.
- Went to Delhi to pick up a friend's family, visiting him in Mussoorie.
- It's been raining most days, though locals insist monsoon doesn't start until, precisely, June 15th.
- Walked again to Happy Valley and got to know some Kansan's who are here.
- Assigned a new project with a local ministry.
- Went to Delhi (again) and to Agra, touring and eating very well with my friend's family before we sent them home. Saw the Taj Mahal!
- Watched 5/6 of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy (extended) over the weekend
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