He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose. —Jim Elliot
I’ve been surprised by the ongoing dialogue regarding John Chau’s brutal death at the hands of the North Sentinelese, a small tribe living isolated on the Andaman Islands off the coast of India.
I’m not interested in the non-Christian perspective, as they will never understand a believer’s call to share the Gospel at all costs. But more surprising to me has been the debate among Christians as to whether this man was called by Christ or whether he should have at least followed some other method for sharing the Gospel.
It seems remarkable to me that, upon being given the chance to read excerpts from his diary in many news stories, in which he expresses fear that he is on a virtual path toward his own death at God’s calling, we would doubt this man’s call and obedience. Or that, from the comfort of our American homes, we would judge a man who felt it his Christian responsibility to reach out to such a murderous and lost tribe—one that few of us even knew enough about so as to pray for their salvation.
I can remember being in Asia many years ago and suddenly being struck by God’s call to Isaiah, “Who will go for us?” To which Isaiah, without hesitation, responds, “Send me!”
I knew what God was asking that day, but could not have foreseen the struggles we would face to get there, then how quickly we would be forced to leave at the hands of a government who did not want us there as we worked to raise up new believers in Christ.
I remember how quickly those who had supported our calling suddenly questioned whether we had done it right or even had heard God’s call at all. I was saddened by the churches who could not see God’s vision of a longer journey, pulling their funding from our ongoing work.
I’m tired of the debate that we should be following approved methods and systems and strategies in order to reach the lost. I just want to reach the lost—who, may I remind you, are dying every day having yet to hear the Gospel. Yes, I understand the need to appreciate a person’s culture, but the only culture being protected for the North Sentinelese is one of death and eternal destruction.
Jesus walked, talked and prayed, performing miracles along the way. The early church leaders walked, talked and prayed, also performing miracles along the way. Many of them died simply for sharing. There was no more system or strategy than this, and our struggle to methodize everything seems often to be a huge hindrance to just reaching lost people.
I think of all the missionary stories we read to our children where we laud someone’s obedience to the Lord rather than give in to some board or group of people who say, “No, that’s not how we do it.” I think of Gladys Aylward and others who did what God, not man, asked of them.
I think of missionaries such as Adoniram Judson who toiled for years under persecution and threat of death only to acknowledge that God is to be obeyed regardless. And what of the similarities between this man, John Chau, and the celebrated Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Ed McCully, Peter Fleming, and Roger Youderian, who at times in the accepted narrative of their mission appear even to me to have been foolish in their steps? But would those who once who murdered and now are saved want it any other way?
God, in his sovereignty, calls us to obedience, and this story of John Chau should bring us to shame for so often rejecting His call. The real issue isn’t whether John Chau heard God or acted wisely. It’s what will we do now that he is dead. Who among us is willing to take up that cross?
I fear that we will quickly return to our chairs and sofas, continuing to read missionary stories to our children with no real desire to see them actually emulate what these missionaries have done. We live in a culture of comfort and contentment, where it’s too easy to sit back and point out how someone else must have been wrong from the start when it doesn’t end the way we want it.