A couple of days ago I was talking to an old friend and telling him about my experiences in India last summer. I told him about spending a night with the kids at the Boys’ Home, our unforgettable afternoon at a leper colony, and the humbling realities of the crowded Mumbai slums.
“That’s awesome,” he responded, “plus you got to go to the Taj Mahahl, right?”
Oh yeah…the Taj Mahal.
It’s not like I failed to mention it because I was trying to do that Super-Christian thing where you downplay the non-ministry aspects of the trip. I had legitimately not thought about the fact that we were at one of the most famous destinations the world has to offer.
I constantly find myself amazed at the way that God works. His perspective is so much more perfect than mine. Before I left for India, the Taj Mahal was what I was most excited to see. But God, who knows me better than I know myself, had a deeper beauty prepared for me.
This is the jaw-dropping awesomeness of life with Jesus. We go in looking forward to flashy monuments built by humanity, excited about seeing in person what lives in postcards and newsreels. But God has a different value system. His beauty is in His children.
Before I went to India, my entire vision of the country was the Taj Mahal. Now, I have trouble remembering it was there. In its place are the souls of Karin, Manohar, and all of the other amazing people that I had the privelidge of worshipping alongside. Africa isn’t about big animals on a wild safari, it is about Gomeli, Pastor Morris, and Jared. The hearts that belong to these people, their faithfulness to the gospel, and the infectious joy of their smiles are more grandly amazing than all the wonders of the world stacked on top of one another.
We get into things with our own agendas. We’ve got our own ideas, based on our own ideals and interests. But God, thankfully, has other ideas. Better ones. We expect the overwhelming beauty of the Taj Mahal and discover the unimagineable beauty of souls made in the image of the Divine Creator. We look into our futures and imagine the contentment of standing succesfully in front of man-made endeavors such as fame and fortune. So often, we forget that our King came birthed in a manger, wandered the countryside as a homeless servant, and was killed next to thieves on a tree. Maybe there is something more filling, more enjoyable, more in tune with the rhythym of our souls. Something found in dirt, on the fringes, in quiet humility. Something that cannot be explained without being experienced.
The gospel alive within people is enough to render the Taj Mahal unimpressive.
The World Race is about turning postcards into people. Our world will never change because of postcards, no matter how encouraging or compelling the image. We might throw some money at the world’s problems. But it does not address the problems within us, our perspective on the Eternal Kingdom of God and our place in it. It is easy for us to dismiss mission work, challenge its value, harp on its imperfections, when our view of the world is full of postcards rather than people.
