Susan LaffertyEveryday conversations. On the road. In the store. Are my words seasoned with salt?
Flavored with the gospel? Purified with truth?
Salt caught my attention when we were living in a dry and thirsty land. On the way to the beach, we passed white fields of sea salt.
Harvested from the Arabian Sea.
Festivals. Parades. Masks. And fear. Winding through villages. And megacities.
Fear of any and every name. Except the Name that is above all others.
Our family sojourns for a season in South Asia. Amidst this colorful darkness. And its reality weighs heavy on my soul.
Paul’s experience in Athens hits home.
“Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was being provoked within him as he was observing the city full of idols.”
Acts 17:16
For several years, we live in a sprawling urban area of 26 million. Historic city on the subcontinent.
Our home is a second-floor flat on a relatively quiet street. Off the main road.
The feast of color surprises me. Every day. On city streets. In local markets. Showing up, despite ever-present dust and weighty pollution.
Brightly-hued clothing. Mounds of spices—orange, red, yellow. Carpets and paintings. Exquisite designs.
Beautiful.
Lively music floats through the air. Blasts from motor rickshaws, buses. Fills the religious celebrations taking place throughout the year.
We live down the street from a neighborhood community center. And feel the festival drum beats in our flat.
There’s a party going on. Always.
A colorful party.
One evening the sound of a marching band catches our attention. We stand out on the balcony and watch. Not one, but four bands pass by.
Interspersed between these roll brightly-lit floats. Actors perform dramas on moving stages. Loudspeakers broadcast for all to hear.
The parade continues down the narrow street of our ordinary neighborhood. Camels. Elephants. Brilliantly uniformed riders mounted on white horses.
All passing beneath our balcony.
After a while, we notice. On most stages there’s a central figure. His skin, painted blue.
Then, we know. The long and colorful procession honors Shiva. One of many gods worshiped in this city.
Across the street from our flat, a new apartment building is under construction. Clean lines, modern design. Grey and silver.
Simply elegant. Except for the small wooden mask carefully placed on the side of the building. Painted red and black.
A colorful but hideous mask. Mounted as protection from evil spirits. On morning walks, I count other similar masks on unfinished buildings around the neighborhood.
And whenever I stand on our balcony, I see that mask. Directly in front of me. A visible reminder of the unseen battle.
The fear that prevails when people are walking in the dark.
Festivals. Parades. Masks. It’s a colorful darkness. But it is darkness.
So, as I go for morning walks in the dust. Or pass through streets and alleys on my way to the market, I watch. And pray.
Along the way I see numerous signs. Of ongoing worship.
Large temples with marble steps and elaborately carved walls and doors. Smaller temples tucked between shops.
Altars set up under trees. Idols lining special shelves in stores and at the door of our favorite restaurant. Offerings on street corners.
Reflecting on this troubling map of our neighborhood, I turn again to Paul’s sojourn in Athens.
A group of philosophers hear Paul preaching the good news about Jesus and the Resurrection. In the marketplace. They call him a “babbler.”
But hey, they could talk about and listen to the latest ideas all day long. So they invite him to a meeting on Mars’ Hill. To share his strange teaching.
Paul notes the Athenians’ very religious ways. And singles out one specific altar with this inscription: “To an Unknown God.” He proceeds to describe Who that is.
“The God who made the world and everything in it—
He is Lord of heaven and earth
—does not live in shrines made by hands. Neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to everyone
life and breath and all things.”
Acts 17:23-25
This God cannot be “like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man” (Acts 17:29)
Earlier, Paul shared the gospel. Now he finishes his speech on the hill with strong words. A challenge.
“God now commands all people everywhere to repent.” Judgment is coming. By the One He appointed, by raising Him from the dead. (Acts 17:30-31)
He loses some of them at that point. Others want to hear more.
But a few. A few turn from their idols and philosophies and heady arguments. They choose to follow Christ.
Today His servants walk in places of colorful darkness. Sharing the Truth. The Name above every other name. The One and Only God worthy of our worship.
And we pray. For “all people everywhere to repent.”
He calls people out of the dark. Into His marvelous light.
They cross over from death to life. Exchanging fear for the peace that surpasses understanding.
And begin worshiping the God they can know. Mystery gloriously revealed.
Where do you see “colorful darkness” in your neighborhood or city? What is your prayer for those who live in fear?
To the ends of the earth – Resilience – Come and see – Lost – Redeemed – Unmapped – Keep singing – Night flight – Take up His yoke – Brokenness – Dust – The mystery of the gospel –
On a drive. After rain. Mist and fog still hang in the air. Limiting the view ahead.
But our eyes glance to the sides of the road. And we see. The beauty of timing.
Revealed. All along the way. Shining in the dark. Through woods, green and deep.
Dogwood in bloom.
