It didn’t take long upon arrival in Iquitos, Peru to notice something was a little different about the city. Hoards of tattooed, health food-eating, English speaking travelers seemed to congregate in all of the coffee shops and street corners. For Iquitos to be such an off-the-beaten trail kind of town, it certainly seemed a formidable Mecca for some. I had to wonder what could be drawing so many people to a city nestled in the Amazon Rainforest, baking in the equator heat.
After a busy day of doing ministry in the interior, I used my following day off to find some alone time in a cafe- just me, a cup of good coffee, and a massive salad menu. I was blissful and perfectly alone. Just as I was getting settled into my restaurant heaven, a Caucasian man in his 20s walked in, with dirty hippie written all over his unshaved beard and tattoo sleeves. We nodded politely and went back to burying our faces in the beautifully extensive menu. After 10 mins had passed, he broke the silence first.
“Having a hard time deciding?”he quipped in a heavy Australian accent. I laughed.
“Yeah. How’d you guess?” His food had already arrived in the time that it took me to read past the smoothie section. From there, we got to discussing the various reasons why and how we found ourselves in Iquitos, Peru. It would have been an all-too-easy discussion to exit for introvert me had it not been for the reasons he gave.
Turns out, he was a New Zealand native who had come to Iquitos for some kind of spiritual healing called Ayahuasca. Everyone here, he explained, was here for the same reason. He went on to explain the rainforest rituals and shamans involved in the practice, as well as the drug qualities of the plants used for the sessions. It all seemed very witchcraft-y to me, but I was profoundly interested in the process. The thing that really drew me in though, was his unapologetic energy that any onlooker might call joy.
He left not long after and as quickly as he left, another man walked in, at least 40 years my senior, with a similar hippie-look and an American accent. Similarly to my conversation with my New Zealand friend, we started talking fairly effortlessly and he brought up his beliefs abruptly following basic introduction. His name was Michael and he was from Los Angelos. But he had the same glow- that wide eyed, excited joy. He talked my ear off about his new-found peace, so much so in fact, that I couldn’t get in a word edge-wise. His energy drew me in and I idly wondered; do I talk about the Gospel the way he talks about Ayahuasca? Am I so convicted? So bold?
Some things Michael told my teammate Madison and I stuck with me. God is in everyone and everything. God calls us to have responsibility over mind,body, and soul, and treat others with love and respect. God calls us into community with one another and into growth and healing. Every day is part of the journey, he said. Those things, I asserted, we had in common.
But what we differed on, of course, was incredibly extensive. My human nature was drawn to poking holes in his spirituality, searching out weak points to expose his ideals and support my own belief system. I was looking desperately for justification. How could he be so happy if he was so wrong? I asked myself these questions as I walked back to our hotel and they continued to circulate as I attempted ever-evasive sleep. I clung to the obvious problems like the dangerous and extreme diet, vomit inducing jungle drugs, cult-like following of the practice. I made my list of problems like I was unfurling a red carpet of judgement and superiority. A red carpet that only the right could walk.
It occurred to me as I processed my thoughts that perhaps I had some important things quite wrong. I don’t think my belief in the Gospel is wrong at all- after all I’ve experienced it firsthand. But my teammate Madison and I mused as we parted ways with Michael, both literally and spiritually, that while Michael was only experiencing some aspects of the nature of God, his wonder was the appropriate response to an encounter with the divine. So many Christians, on the other hand, have seen and encountered the One-True-God in His Word and Spirit and walked away with hardened hearts that don’t extend the same love they were touched by. So who is more right? More justified in their lifestyle? Only God knows the intentions of the heart.
Instead of being discouraged by my own shortcomings in living out a joyful-Christian life because of my encounter with Michael, I was incredibly convicted. If Michael’s eyes can dance while looking as the sun’s reflection in the waters of the human life, an indirect appreciation for truth but a genuine one, the only right response to God for a Christian is an experience of joy looking directly into the sun. I’m not better than an Ayahuasca follower or a Buddhist brother or sister- I’m just incredibly lucky to have gotten to taste the water that comes straight from the source. More than an elitist calling- it’s a responsibility and challenge to radiate the same light I’ve encountered. Because if I don’t, the light I’ve encountered that seeks to extend and spread will stop with me. With every one of us who thinks that our lack of joy doesn’t send a stronger message than our rehearsed testimonies.
Perhaps the greatest sign of a heart that needs work is the impulse to justify itself. That is a lesson I learn one paragraph at a time on the Race. If I can’t rejoice at the good things that Michael and all other unbelievers have applied to their perspective and walk, it’s probably because I’m intimidated by some insufficiency in my own belief. Is it bad to feel challenged to dig deeper? Hardly. I think it makes us a little less stagnant, a little more human, and a lot more humble. Not a single one of us will ever have God completely figured out on this side of heaven. And you know what? Good.
That means the best is yet to come. I sure hope I see Michael there someday.
