We walked down a slope to a house in progress, a concrete structure currently under construction. It sat high on a hill with a beautiful view of the sea. A man standing on the porch spreading concrete around the door looked up as we approached. His name was James, and we had visited him briefly the week before to invite him to Friday’s worship concert at the church. He hadn’t come, but he remembered us.
“He’s working right now, so we won’t stay too long here,” our translator told us.
We asked James how he was doing and admired the progress he’d made on the house. Then we jumped pretty quickly to questions about Jesus. Did he go to church? No. Did he know who Jesus was? Yes, the Son of God; everyone knew that. Did he have a relationship with God? No, but he wanted one. Had he accepted Christ? No, but he wanted to, right now, today.
Um, what?
And also, so much for not staying long.
Before we prayed with him, we wanted to make sure he understood what he was asking, so we questioned him a little more, explaining in greater detail what it looks like to be a follower of Jesus. “It doesn’t mean life gets easy,” we told him. “In fact, it can be really hard. But it’s not a set of rules, either; you don’t have to work to be good enough for Jesus. He’s the one who changes you, from the inside out, so don’t beat yourself up when you make mistakes.” He nodded.
“Remember, nothing in your entire life is irredeemable. Even the deepest, darkest secrets, the things you tell yourself you could never share with anyone–you can bring them to Jesus, who is waiting with love and forgiveness.”
We asked him again: did he want to receive Christ today?
Yes.
So we gathered around him and led him in a prayer of salvation, our interpreter translating line by line and James repeating our words. In the spirit of Haiti, we cried “Alleluia!” and waved our hands in the air when he said “amen.” For a child of God had just accepted Christ, and that is worthy of celebration.
On the surface, this looks like a beautiful missionary success story. “Missionaries enter village, share gospel and win convert.” This is what I came to do, right?
The thing is, I didn’t do anything. I barely even knew the man. A week before, I didn’t know James existed. And yet, the second time I ever laid eyes upon him, I was given the honor of praying with him to enter God’s Kingdom. What?
On the flip side, I’ve been loving on and investing in friends back home for years. When opportunities have arisen, I’ve had the joy of sharing the gospel with them, sometimes multiple times. Yet rarely have I seen much fruit, and I’ve certainly never gotten to celebrate someone accepting Christ after months or even years of friendship.
As a missionary, my goal is to love people with Christ’s love in the hope that it serves as a witness to the Lord. My goal isn’t to walk up to random strangers’ doorsteps and expect a conversion.
Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into the harvest field.”
Matthew 9:36
“Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.”
John 4:35-38
Jesus anticipated that we would see fruit where we haven’t worked for it. He intended it, even. But why should I reap the benefits of someone else’s labor? Why should someone else reap the benefits of mine? Why shouldn’t someone who knows James and who has striven over the course of years to share the gospel and display Jesus’ love in his life have the joy of witnessing him accepting Christ?
Why? Because ultimately, it wasn’t any human effort doing the real work anyway. It was God.
I can share the gospel as much as I like, planting seeds of truth in someone’s heart, but I will never cause those seeds to take root and grow; only God can do that. However, if I were to plant a seed, nurture it and harvest it all myself, I might be tempted to think I’d done the growing, too. Harvesting where I haven’t sown reminds me that it’s not about me. It always has been and always will be about God. This week, He just invited me along to join Him at the most joyous moment of the journey.
In fact, this is a lesson God will be reinforcing over and over and over this year. I’ll be visiting eleven countries for a month apiece. One month. What lasting work can I possibly do in a month? Only through the Lord can I hope that my efforts to love on the kids in these poor villages will have any lasting impact. And when the month ends, I have to trust again that even though my work here is done, Christ’s is not. I have to trust that He will continue to care for them and display His love for them, for His care and love were not dependent on me in the first place.
So James accepting Christ isn’t really a missionary success story, but a testimony to the Lord. I can’t save the world, and I don’t want to get caught up thinking I can. But God can and is saving us, and He’s invited me to come and reap and sow and love, knowing it all depends on Him.
Alleluia.
