BREATHLESS

I got to the top of the cliff… breathless and panting, my lungs feeling like they were about to explode.  I was wheezing.  Why was I wheezing?  I was used to rigorous hikes and didn’t mind the strain of hard climbs, but for some reason it felt like someone had taken a turkey baster and sucked the life out of me.  Interesting to note was the handful of primitive tribesmen who had accompanied me – they also were wheezing and seemingly breathless.  I didn’t feel too badly, knowing they, too, were exhausted.

After several weeks of daily descents and climbs back up the cliff, I was still breathless and wheezing… but they were not.  The lights came on, and I realized that they had been ‘accommodating me’ so I wouldn’t feel badly about my condition.  You’re probably asking, “Why would Dave tackle such a daily undertaking?”  I asked that, too, although I knew the answer.

We were amid language acquisition among a people group with an unwritten language and a most unusual culture.  Their worldview was driven by bondage to fear and placating the spirits of the world around them.  These were people isolated from the outside world, insulated in the depths of a tropical rainforest.  They knew nothing beyond their tribal boundaries.  Life was little more than survival… to get from one day to the next.

The answer to why I was up and down that cliff so often was for the sake of getting to know these people, to learn how life relates to their worldview and what drives them.  It was a stickler of a language, with 18 vowels and other nuances that boggled our minds.  Daily treks down that cliff, climbing over huge boulders and picking our way on slippery trails to reach their hunting grounds was a challenging feat but it provided insider information to understand ‘what makes them tick.’

Eventually, I built my stamina to keep pace with them as I was gaining insight to understand what made sense to them and trying to figure out why it made no sense to me.  This was their world, their turf… the only thing they’ve ever known. 

I want to zero in on that word ‘accommodation.’  I’m not talking about hotels, resorts or RV parks; I’m referencing the process of making adjustments or adapting to new situations or circumstances.  That seems to be the challenge in the early stages of missionary work.

In cognitive development, accommodation refers to the process of changing existing cognitive structures (schemas) in order to accommodate new information.  For example, a child might initially categorize all four-legged animals as “dogs,” but after learning that cats are different, they adjust their understanding to accommodate the new information. 

…And that, in part, is where missionaries find themselves in the structure of bringing the gospel into meaningful comprehension among unreached peoples – how to bring Biblical truth that stimulates foundations of understanding.

This is the kind of work to which we are challenging young people these days.  We’re looking for individuals, not with an adventurous spirit; that wears off quickly.  But what we are looking for are solid Christians with a passion for lost souls – ones who will be willing to embrace the hard task and dig in their heels to bring light to those in darkness.

If you are looking for fame and recognition, then this job is not for you.  It’s long, and it is enduring.  As a rep colleague said recently quoting Nikolaus Zinzendorf, “Preach the gospel. Die. And be forgotten.” We serve for Jesus’ sake, not ours.