How to Kill a Tiger: the Arrow vs. the Gun

   When choosing your selected weapon in a hunt for a tiger you must consider a few things.

   The Gun. It seems like the obvious choice, right?! With the gun you can shoot from a greater distance and maybe do more damage initially. So, you raise your weapon, pull the trigger, and watch with anticipation, hoping the tiger goes down. The problem comes if you miss your target even slightly. The tiger traces the sound to your direction, racing toward you at great speed. What are your chances now with the striped beast?
   The Arrow. Although you would probably want to be a bit closer to the tiger to insure a targeted hit, which might make you a bit more nervous, the Arrow is actually a more strategic option. When pierced with an arrow, the tiger will visibly see it lodged in his side and equate the cause of the pain with the arrow. In this situation you are safe simply because the tiger will struggle to wrestle with the arrow, never looking for a shooter, which buys you time to shoot another arrow into the tiger and finish him off.
   In the Spiritual realm, Satan employs the same method. At many times during the day, one can be under attack from Satan as he pierces our hearts with deceit-dipped arrows. These well place lies hit where it hurts and cause us to focus on the arrow itself, not him, which is what he wants, honestly. When we dont see Satan standing behind the arrow, when we dont equate the voices in our head as lies from the Evil One, and when we accept those lies as truth we tend to struggle more in deceit, while Satan continually fires rounds of arrows into our heart. His lies are subtle and tricky.
   This has been a crucial aspect in the way that I view my identity in Christ. I receive lies (arrows) on a daily basis. I must be aware and recognize Satan in his work. The Spirit has really helped me distinguish truth from lies. And then, I must turn to God right then and receive His voice, His acceptance, His Truth. And hearing the voice of God is a refreshing drink on a scorching day.

jmh

"Who do YOU say that I am?"

Door shuts! Praise God!

   I had been waiting 45 minutes this day for a bus that wasn’t packed to the door so that I could get back to Beit Jala from Jerusalem. Usually, a five to ten minute wait is all that is necessary to find the right bus. After watching 4 buses pass by the bus stop without slowing at all, I was finally ready to get on. It is a Friday, the Muslim holy day. Therefore, at this time, most of the buses I watched pass by, without even a hint of slowing down, were crammed with devout Muslims trying to find their way back home.

   I find my place in the aisle; the only space left on this particular bus. Most of the passengers around me are Muslim. However, I notice an American passenger sitting in the window seat of the aisle that I am now standing. As I stand exhausted from a day of sightseeing the Holy City, I casually notice that the mysterious American passenger, who is sitting next to a Muslim woman, is deep in conversation. Strangely enough, she doesn’t want to be! I can tell she is either tired or not feeling well, and she confirms that to the lady sitting next to her, as this particular covered, Muslim woman continues asking her questions, trying to draw her further into conversation.

    The American picks up her cell phone and places it to her ear, so as to signal an incoming call and perhaps buy her more time to think of her next move. As she responds to mystery Man A, I wonder if there is even anyone on the other end. She then hangs up the phone and returns it to its position, still clinched in her hand, maybe hoping that another convenient call might take place. “How can you believe that Jesus is actually God,” this woman asks the poor American tourist who just wants to be left alone. Okay, my attention is even more devoted to this pair now; however, rather than give my cards away, I opt for the look-out-the-window eavesdropping technique, keeping my good ear turned their way, making sure I pick up all the key ingredients of this one-sided conversation.

  I look ahead briefly, so as to keep my cover, while frequently giving a look in their direction. From above the conversation, my eyes steal long glances, hoping that my ears follow suit and fill in what words are being said to go along with the awkward body language and nonverbal cues that are taking place. Another look forward. This time, I notice the man standing in front of me is now turned around and he looks to interject his own comments into this random conversation. He utters something in Arabic. Muslim woman responds back before devoting more words and thoughts to American passenger, who is now looking out the window, not making eye contact. What response she does contribute to this conversation is very soft, as she tries to keep her thoughts in her row only, not wanting her beliefs to seep out into other rows, where listening ears are now apparent.

  Once again, I watch the man standing directly in front of me and I am thinking, “Should I jump in this conversation and bail this defenseless woman out?” I quickly decide minding my own business is the route I am going to take today. “Can you believe that this woman here thinks that Jesus is God,” the voice in front of me projects my way. Okay, maybe I will be contributing my own thoughts. “Actually,” I offer sheepishly, “I believe the same thing she does.” The man’s face changes. “You believe that Jesus is God,” he prods. He then proceeds to inform me about his beliefs, how Jesus is a mere prophet, and how there is no way that he was God. His monologue lasts a good 7-8 minutes as I listen honestly, nodding my head and giving him nonverbals to show I am listening.

 Before I left, I read Muslims, Christians and Jesus. It was very informative and spoke about the importance of seeking common ground with Muslims, not trying to stir up arguments, and just listening to what they believe. I do exactly as the book explains. After exhausting himself, he looks at me with interest and questions, “Who is Jesus’ father?”

“Father God is,” I state. 

“How can this be? He was born of a woman. How can Jesus be a son and God? He is only a prophet. He has to be,” the man offers expecting a response.  

“Jesus is God the Son. Father God is also God,” my response comes.  

“Impossible! It cannot be,” again he says.  

“I don’t know how to explain it to you in a way that is easy to understand because God is not someone that I can fully comprehend. There are certain things that I just have to say, ‘God is God and I am not’,” I respond again, hoping this time he accepts my thoughts. I am becoming aware now as I look around my proximity that more itching ears and curious eyes are beginning to look directly at me, wondering what I will say. At this point, I am trying to keep my voice low. I have nowhere to go, I am not trying to start a spiritual fight or even critique the Muslim beliefs. I am only trying to counter what this man is stating so matter-of-factly with truth.

  We continue talking for another 15 minutes as he shares his personal beliefs with me, trying to persuade me in the errors in mine. I gladly share truth with him and the conversation takes twists and turns around the Gospel. I keep my cool, listening more than talking, and giving him all the proper cues to know that I am not offended and I respect what he is saying. Not long after, we arrive at his bus stop. The bus comes to a complete stop, he turns around, and proceeds to walk down the aisle. I tap him on the shoulder, extend my arm, and shake his hand, so as to say, “It was a pleasure talking with you.” I had hoped that he would ride the bus longer and get off at my stop so that we could continue our conversation, but it was not to be.

  I thank God for this day that I was able to speak Truth into this man’s life. I pray that a seed was planted. I also pray that those listening ears on the bus received the Word in their language. God’s Word does not return void.

jmh

Raji, Daniel, and George

   Three weeks ago we took a trip over the weekend (our first of two in 2 straight weeks) with our soccer and basketball teams north of Tel Aviv (about a 2 hour drive). Our teams spent the day at an American School playing against a few other schools in the area. Although we didn’t fare so well against stronger competition, the students really enjoyed getting away and seeing a new landscape.

   After the tournament we traveled to a mall just off the Mediterranean Sea and spent a couple of hours of free time just enjoying the area. I was responsible for three 6th grade students: Raji, George, and Daniel (Raji is always smiling, Daniel is the “cool, athletic one”, and George is a bit more reserved but goofy). They anxiously informed me that they wanted to go straight to the beach, thereby bypassing the mall, as soon as we stepped off the bus. I had prayed that God would give us an enjoyable time. That prayer was answered immediately and tangibly.

   As the sun was retiring for the evening, the four of us walked down a beautiful, white beach just down a ways from the marina that kept several sailboats. We stopped at the marina to look at all the fancy boats that were at bay before we headed to the beach. Just off the beach a few feet was a wall of large boulders that ran parallel. After immediately seeing the water, the guys had a smile on their face as wide as the sea itself. This was the first or second time these boys had ever been to the beach! Think back to your childhood and imagine the excitement you felt when you first saw the beach. They kept looking at me as if seeking permission, their faces following suit as if to cry out, “Am I allowed to get in the water and have fun?” And when my response matched the desires of their youthful, adventurous hearts there was no hesitation on their parts.

   I was reminded that these young guys had been oppressed and told “no” their whole lives. “No, you cannot leave your small and shrinking territory. No, you cannot take simple trips across the border to the beach, the zoo, the amusement park, or even the mall.” The innocence of youth does not even weigh in on a decision to allow Palestinians to travel freely back and forth, with the exception of a school game here or there, and in that case permits must be approved weeks in advance.

   So, when my three 6th grade students for the day asked if they could have fun, enjoy the water, and get wet, how could I offer up any response shy of, “Swim, Run, Shout, Laugh, get wet, and live in this moment as if nothing else matters!!!”

   It was the best day of the week by far, simply because God reminded me what it was to be a kid again, to approach life without worry or fear, but to simply out of Joy, Courage, and Passion, experience Life! Raji, Daniel, and George allowed me to live vicariously through them that day!

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

jmh