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From the Pastor's Desk

On the teaching trip to Manipur, India, I’m quite sure that I learned as much as I taught.  If you’ve ever taught anything you’ve probably had a similar experience.  Teaching is great because the teacher gets to learn so much!

I learned that I sometimes have ridiculously high expectations for how things ought to work.  In India nothing works quite right.  Nothing really measures up to American standards.  Indians seems to take such things in stride.  I have a much harder time doing that. 

Case in point:  All of the computers were down at JFK’s Air India terminal.  This meant long lines and a very long wait for our flight.  Most of the people waiting were Indian and were relaxed and casual about the delay.  “These things happen, no big deal,” they seemed to say.  I didn’t feel that patient.  I thought that if the terminal were filled with Americans there would probably be a riot!  Where do I get the ridiculous idea that everything should work efficiently according to my agenda?

I think I gained a bit of sympathy for immigrants and other strangers among us.  Especially in places like the Mumbai and Delhi airports, I really felt something of what it is to be a stranger in a strange land, surrounded by a crushing throng of people with whom you can’t communicate and whose culture you don’t understand.  Why, the place even has its own smell!  I was an odd little fish in a very big pond.   The biblical mandate to show hospitality to strangers caught my attention in a fresh way.

Case in point:  When we returned to JFK I used the pay phone to let Patsy know we had arrived.  While at the phone I was approached by an elderly woman. She handed me a slip of paper and said, “Poland.”  The paper had a phone number on it.  I figured out that she was from Poland, did not speak English and wanted me to help her make a phone call from the pay phone.  The pay phones at JFK are confusing enough to an English speaker.  I dialed the number several times for her but we couldn’t seem to get through.  She showed me her address book and I began to realize that she didn’t really have a valid phone number for the place in New York that she was trying to call.  Our bus showed up at that very moment and I couldn’t help her further.  I pointed her to one of the airport officials in hopes that he could help her.  I knew she’d at least be safe in the terminal but I felt bad for leaving her.

I had a lot of sympathy for the Polish stranger in a strange land.  I’m going to try to keep my eyes peeled for such people in the future.  Thanks to India, I know a little better what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.

Somehow, there’s grace at work in that.

With love in Christ,
Pastor Brad Evans

Page updated May 2008