TO THE END OF THE EARTH

 

For years I thought Timbuktu was a made-up name for ‘the ends of the earth’. When I found out it is a real place, I developed a fascination for it. During a fact-finding trip to West Africa for Mission Aviation Fellowship in 1986 this fascination became an irresistible urge. I hitched a ride on a small plane chartered by UNICEF.  

Two doctors were in Timbuktu and might fly back on the return flight. That meant I could be bumped but I decided to take the chance. The pilot approached me as I started for town. “The doctors are on their way,” he said. You’ll have to find another ride back, look for a truck.  But be careful westerners do not last long in the desert heat. Several have disappeared without a trace.

The market place was crowded; the men were well armed and I felt their suspicious eyes. I went from person to person trying to find someone who spoke English. I finally came across a local policeman who understood my broken French. “I need a truck, to go to Bamako” I said. His eyes widened “No truck” he shrugged. What was I to do?

My father was killed when I was only four. Even after his death my father was a presence in my life. One question lingered in my mind: Did my father have to die? I could not help but think the murders were an accident of bad timing. The missionaries had landed just as a small band of Auca men were in a bad mood. If Dad’s plane had landed one day later, the massacre might not have happened.

Now I felt threatened because of who I was and what I believed. I prayed “God I’m in trouble here. Please keep me safe and show me a way to get back. Please reveal yourself the way you did to my father.” No bolt of lightning came from the blue, but a new thought did come to mind. There must be a telecommunications office here. I could wire Bamako to send another plane.

I asked the policeman, “Telegraph transmits only if station in Bamako has machine on, If not no answer ever come” He shrugged. If I could not make arrangements by nightfall, what would happen? This was truly that last outpost in the world. Then I remembered that just before I’d started for Timbuktu a fellow worker had said there’s a tiny Christian church in Timbuktu.

Some children showed me the way. Elderly people scolded them harshly as we passed, but they persisted.  Finally we arrived at the open doorway of a tiny mud-brick house; on the wall hung a poster showing a cross. They pointed out a young man who was approaching us, then melted back into the labyrinth.

Nouh signaled he knew someone who could translate for us. An American missionary lived there, so we went to his home. I asked Nouh, “How did you come to have faith?” The missionary translated “When I was a small boy, a friend and I decided to steal some carrots from this compound. We’d been told that Toubabs (white men) eat children. I was caught by Mr Marshal, the former missionary.

He did not eat me, instead he gave me carrots and some cards that had Bible promises written on them. He said that if I learned them, he’d give me an ink pen!” “You learned them?” “Oh, yes! But when I showed off my pen at school, the teacher knew I must have spoken with a Toubab, which was strictly forbidden. He severely beat me.”

When Nouh’s parents found that he had portions of such a despised book, they threw him out and forbade anyone to take him in. He was not allowed back in school. But something had happened. Nouh had come to believe that what the Bible said was true. Desperate, that the family’s character was in jeopardy, his mother decided to kill him.

Nouh was invited home where his mother poisoned him. Nouh was not affected but his brother, who stole a morsel of meat from the deadly dish, became violently ill and partially paralyzed. Seeing God’s intervention, people were afraid to make further attempts on his life, but condemned him as an outcast.

 I asked Nouh the question that I’d wanted to ask my father: “Why is your faith so important to you that you’re willing to give up everything, even your life?” “I know God loves me and I’ll live with Him forever. Now I have peace where I used to be full of uncertainty, who would not give up everything for this peace and security?” Nouh said.

“It could not have been easy for you to take a stand that made you despised by the whole community”, I said “where did your courage come from?” “Mr. Marshall gave me some books about Christians who’d suffered for their faith. My favorite book was one about five young men who risked their lives to take God’s good news to Auca Indians. The book said these men let themselves be speared to death!”

Our missionary translator remembered the story too. One of those men had your last name,” he said to me. “Yes, the pilot was my father.” “Your father?” Nouh cried. The story is true!” “Yes,” I said, “it’s true.” The doctors were not able to leave Timbuktu after all. There was room for me on the UNICEF plane! As Nouh and I hugged each other, it seemed incredible that God loves us so much that He’d arranged for us to meet “at the ends of the earth.”

 Nouh and I had gifts for each other that no one else could give. I gave him the assurance that the story that had given him courage was true. He, in turn, gave the assurance that God had used Dad’s death for good. Dad, by dying, had helped give Nouh a faith worth dying for. And Nouh, in return, had helped give Dad’s faith back to me. (Steve Saint 2001)

Paul’s life motto was “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21). In Philippians 1:22–24, he continued his life/death motif.  If he lived, God intended him to live a fruitful life (v.22). The term “fruit” referred to his missionary endeavors. He wrote to the church in Rome before he got there “I have often planned to come to you so that I may obtain some fruit among you also, even as among the rest of the Gentiles” (Rom. 1:13).  

He was torn between fruitful labor or going home. But he desired “to depart and be with Christ which is better by far”. The word translated “departed” is a sailing metaphor that means to pull up anchor. When the believer dies, he leaves this world and sets sail for the shores of heaven. Like the commander of a ship in a foreign port, he feels a strong desire to set sail and get to his own homeland. 

In the Old Testament the word was used of breaking up camp and reflected the camp-life of the Israelites in the wilderness in contrast with their permanent dwellings in the Promised Land. Paul a tent maker by trade, referred to the earthly body as a tent. He wrote in 2 Corinthians 5:1 “if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed; we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.”

Although torn between heaven and this life, Paul insisted that the prospect of being with Christ was far much better. He was absolutely convinced that the moment he passes from this life, he would be in the presence of Jesus (2 Cor. 5:8). However, he stated that “it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body” (v. 24). Paul’s He would gladly stay work was not yet done, and others still needed him.

Paul figured that he would probably live a little longer. He wrote “convinced of this, I know that I will remain and will continue with all of you, for your progress and joy in the faith (v.25). As long as he lived, he would continue to invest in their lives in order to further their joy and faith. He desired the progress of the gospel and also the maturity of believers. His desire was to ultimately “present every man perfect before Christ” (Col 1:28).

Paul knew that the Philippians joy would overflow if they saw him again.  He was set free and he visited them again.  He was imprisoned in Rome a second time and finally executed. Right before he was executed he wrote “the time has come for my departure, I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:6).  But through the ripple effect the gospel is still advancing unrelentingly towards the end of the earth (Matt 24:14).

We should have Paul's attitude of living every day. Every Christian has a fruitful ministry to perform for God.  Your work is your ministry; you don’t have to be a pastor, you may be a doctor, a trader, a housewife or a house help; It really does not matter what you do. God has called you into the ministry full time! Make the gospel attractive by serving with excellence. Endeavor to make the faith of believers around you progressive and joy full.

 We should understand that every day is an opportunity to make a difference in other people's lives. One of the greatest ministries will be to your children. If you impact and influence each one of them, you won’t just see individual lives changed. You may eventually see generations transformed. Henry James said, “The best use of your life is to invest it in something that will outlast it.”