NINETY PERCENT OF THE TIME

     As I think about what to share from these travels, I realize that most of what we do on these trips would not appeal to people back home.  Much of it is not adventurous or interesting. We spend a lot of time doing what we call “hurry up and wait.” This phrase perfectly describes most of our travel experiences. There are entire days spent in airports or on planes, which quickly causes one to re-evaluate the allure of international travel. Our days are often spent in bone-jarring jeeps, or rattling around in old vehicles that are in need of constant repair. We travel along some of the roughest roads you have ever seen. There is not much of interest to see along the way, and our drivers seem to take delight in showing us just how close they can dodge everything in their path. This routine takes up about ninety percent of our time.

    Another part of this “ninety percent” is spent in a tug-of-war with those who want our money, whether it's a driver, a porter, a customs agent, or some false brother who is trying to take advantage of us. Hindus’ stop us along the road and demand money to help build or repair a small shrine or temple. (And I thought the way some Christians take up offerings was bad.) To us, a rupee (about 30 cents) does not go very far, but it is surprising how they can prevent a small riot or a long delay by a zealous mob.  It's best just to pay it and go. Once we were stopped by a group of excited Indian men who were shouting, "Dead body, dead body." They pointed to the corpse of an old woman alongside the road. They were not just promoting another tourist attraction, but were demanding money to help bury her, or at least that is what they claimed.

      They will try to rob you in the Ukraine as well. Only there the robbers wear police uniforms!! The corruption among the police is disconcerting. On our second trip, we were pulled over almost daily even though we had not committed any traffic violation. They took advantage of the fact that we were foreigners. This was especially evident when the policeman's first question to our driver was, "How much money do you have?" They also said, "Leave your fine to me." The locals call this "feeding the bear." Although we were stopped several times on this trip, we were not fined once. However, I did hear an interesting story on the airplane as we were leaving the Ukraine. A couple of Canadian businessmen were swapping stories about police corruption.  One said they had been stopped at gun-point and the police demanded $1000.00 U.S. from them or they would have to go to jail.  The Canadian laughed and asked to be taken to jail. This rattled the police, who weakly demanded less money. Again the Canadian laughed, put his wrists together to be hand cuffed and asked to be taken in.  With this the police walked away.

    A lot of our time is spent in the struggle to communicate. Even when English is spoken it often needs to be interpreted and, even then, it is wise to go over it from another angle to be sure everything is understood. By now our team could probably beat anybody at games like charades, Pictionary, and sign language. It takes time to just try to discern what is really going on inside of people or the circumstances that you are forced to work with. Nothing is as it appears. In the Ukraine, they may be speaking loudly, with aggressive outbursts and gestures for a few minutes; only to find out they are saying nice things to each other. Or in India, you may be threatened by a man who does it with the nicest smile.

    Ninety percent of the time you are ministering to someone's need, whether it is through teaching, praying for the sick, or bandaging a finger that has just been split open with an ax. One time in the Ukraine, a man walked a long distance to our house to ask if we had any eyeglass frames that might fit his lenses. Interestingly enough, he had lenses with no frames, and just before we left the America we were given a set of frames with no lenses.

     A major portion of our time is spent in the homes of strangers, eating (or trying to avoid eating) their food. Our hosts always go to great lengths to feed us their best, but each country thinks of hospitality in terms of abundance. This is hard on our digestive systems. It is funny how your interests and priorities change overseas. Ninety percent of the time we greet each other in the morning asking how each other slept and about the condition of each others bowels. For me, there is always a tension between a desire to eat something I have never had before, and wanting to stay with what is safe. What is safe usually wins out. This time we learned the hard way that not all the food is safe. In India, one brother was assigned to travel with us into the jungle to be our cook. He did a great job making sure things were prepared in a way that wouldn’t hurt us. In the last village we were in, he was given some cooking oil that he reluctantly used to cook our chicken. It was tainted and we immediately felt sick. Our interpreter, Gabriel, was the first to reject the meal alongside the road. By nightfall all those who had traveled with us that day had a headache, fever, and those dreaded waves of nauseousness that well up within you. I had delayed throwing-up until about 2:00 a.m. Then it became inevitable.  If I had known how good and immediate the results would be, I would have done it sooner. Although we have eaten some questionable things, this food poisoning was the first I had experienced on any trip.                                       

THE LAST TEN PERCENT 

     What makes up the last ten percent? This is the part that you can never forget, the part that you think about while recovering from jet-lag.  It is the part that makes you long to go back again and again. It may be the smallest part, but without question it is the best part. It is found in the level of fellowship you find with your brethren, which can only be reached by going through much of the other ninety percent together. The team of brothers God assembles in these countries in order to accomplish His purposes is the best part. You may be complete strangers when you begin working together, but then a bond forms that becomes amazingly strong.

    You cannot make these `ten percent moments’ happen, but they simply occur on the simplest occasions. It might occur while you are sitting on a grass mat in someone’s garden in India, under a harvest moon eating curried rice off a banana leaf and drinking spicy tea.  As you look across the mat, you see everyone eating and laughing, or re-telling the highlights of the meeting you just had at church or how the police were prevented from shutting down our meetings. Suddenly, you find yourself sitting back with a rare sense of delight warming your breast as you realize that this moment is what makes it all worthwhile. You reach a level of fellowship that transcends all the language barriers, one that doesn't need to be interpreted because it is the language of the brotherhood of Christ.

      Another time, it might show up as you walk across a frozen marsh under a cold, star-filled sky, making your way to the house of a Ukrainian brother. You know you are going to have one of those ten percent moments when the door of the little house opens letting yellow light guide your feet up the old wooden steps. Then singing softly waffles out into the cold night air and draws you inside for a night of fellowship. Very gradually, in a way that cannot be forced, there comes the time when the wonderful laughter and singing subsides, and the rare old stories are told. The children sit quietly as the older believers begin to recall what it was like under Communism or the miracles God had done on their behalf as they stood in the face of opposition. You eventually tap into a level of fellowship so high and holy that it can only be drawn to a close by slipping down to the floor on your knees and praying together.

     As you walk home, the snow squeaking under foot, you realize that it is an austere privilege to be able to come here. These "ten percent moments" can also happen in church. After everyone has gotten used to the interpreter's echo, you hit a vein of truth where the Spirit begins to settle on the meeting, teaching what could otherwise not be taught. Time seems to stand still. Even the benches stop creaking. Your eyes move from one open face to another, laying spiritual nourishment into every open heart. You forget that you have an interpreter; they forget too. These are rare moments of communion, when the Holy Spirit brings everything together so you can share freely, like a sewing needle breaking through leather and you feel the thread easily following through. Then, as if on cue, it begins to lift, and you hear the coughing again and the heavy boots being dragged across the floor as people sit up straight to sing another haunting hymn of their past. These are truly rich times of ministry, and to experience one is worth the trip for any Bible teacher.

     This last ten percent is what makes the first ninety percent worthwhile. On this trip, I was reminded of what Jesus said about our being  “seasoning in the world” -- Christians are the only thing that makes this world tolerable. I have found this to be true wherever I have been. It is only our brethren, and our fellowship with them, that makes it worthwhile going anywhere.                                                                    

2008 Copyright. This material is the creative property of Penn Clark