By Tom Wacaster
I wrote the bulk of this article
in 2013 under a different heading. As I considered our Lord’s observation that “many
are called, but few are chosen,” it was the “calling” aspect of that statement
that impressed me on this particular occasion. Since men are called by the
Gospel, it is imperative that God’s children be actively involved in making
that ‘call’ available to as many
souls as is humanly possible. Unless men hear, they cannot believe. The
servants were sent into the highways and the byways. Another way of putting
that is, “They were sent into every little nook and cranny, looking for
precious souls.” I have not been able to travel to India now for almost three
years, but the fond memories I have of past journeys still thrill my soul, and
remind me of heaven’s commission to go preach the word to every creature, in
every nation. Here is just one such memory that still lingers in my mind.
Everyday traffic on the small
streets of India is a challenge to even the most experienced of travelers. The
lorries (equivalent to our 18 wheelers back home), large buses, automobiles,
and an over-abundance of motorcycles can turn even the smallest of traffic jams
into a nightmare. The driving habits of most of the motorcycle owners is more
like a dog-eat-dog world on two wheels. Words simply cannot adequately describe
the mind-set of a motorcycle diver on the public thoroughfares of India.
Thursday evening we were making our way to a village meeting and, due to
construction on the main road, had to take a detour down what you and I would
call a small country dirt road. In front of us was what appeared to be a large
tour bus something akin to a Greyhound. It took up a good 3/4 of the road. Coming from the other direction was a lorrie,
which also took up 3/4 of the road. In order for these two oversized vehicles
to pass, they had to hug the shoulder of the road on one side, concrete walls
and buildings on the other side, and slowly inch by one another while
by-standers, wanting to get this traffic cleared from in front of their house
as quickly as possible, helped watch the half inch to 1 inch clearance between
the bus and truck to make sure they did not lock up or that no damage was done
to either. The optimum words here are “slowly inch.” Cars were backing up
behind both the bus and the truck, waiting for them to successfully maneuver
past one another. Add to this equation the impatient motorcycle drivers, and
traffic almost came to a complete standstill. Rather than line up behind the
automobiles following both truck and bus, the motorcyclists would go around the
cars, and attempt to squeeze into whatever “crack” might be available for quick
passage. Of course, with the dozens, if not hundreds of motorcycles attempting
to pass our car and beat the next guy to what small opening might become
available, they filled in the space in front of the truck coming the opposite
direction so that the truck could not “inch forward.” At the other end the same
had occurred with regard to the motorcycles and the bus we were following. So, there we all sat; the bus in front of us
and the truck coming the opposite direction, side by side, unable to move
because of the motorcycles, and the motorcycles unable to move because the
truck and bus blocked the way. And then the honking of horns begins; the
incessant honking of horns. I have, for years wondered if there would ever come
a time when a traffic jam would be so back logged that it would be impossible
to make any progress at all. I thought I had witnessed such on this particular
occasion. It took about 30 minutes to finally clear the log jam, and we were on
our way.
Two days later we were in
Palakole. The citizens of the state of Andre Pradesh were demonstrating because
of a decision by the Indian government to split the state into two parts. This
has produced large gatherings of people who pour into the street to voice their
opposition to this government decision. With the agitation and strikes, we had
to take some back roads in an attempt to get around the city. When I say back roads in India, I mean “back
roads”; they make our country roads seem like super improved highways. These
narrow, often bumpy, pot-holed laden back roads, wind through the villages and
rice patties of India. I asked Nehemiah if the local preacher who was with us
was familiar with these back roads. Nehemiah assured me that brother Prabudas
was quite familiar with these back roads because he had travelled these roads
many times in search of souls. I thought about that statement, its implications
and sobering reminder that we are to go about in search for souls.
In Luke 19 we read of our Lord’s
encounter with Zacchaeus. After Zacchaeus had promised to restore four-fold
anything he had improperly exacted from the people, the Lord made the following
statement: “To-day is salvation come to this house, forasmuch as he also is a
son of Abraham. For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost”
(Luke 19:10). Since the gospel came to India in the late 1960’s, the growth of
the Lord’s church has been nothing short of astonishing. There are villages
that are so far removed from the main stream of society that it astounds me
that the gospel has reached so deep into these remote parts of India. Seeing
that the church is the body of Christ, should we not be about seeking and
saving those that are lost? Should not our search be as diligent as was our
Lord’s? Consider the following.
First, the word used by Luke and
translated with our English word “seek” means “to seek in order to find; to
seek after, seek for, aim at, strive after.” There is an intensity and urgency
in that word. That same intensity and urgency was suggested in the Lord’s
parable of the lost coin. “Or what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she
lose one piece, doth not light a lamp, and sweep the house, and seek diligently
until she find it?” (Luke 15:8). Not only did this woman seek for that coin;
she sought diligently. So urgent was this woman’s desire to find the lost coin
that she would not leave any object unturned, or any corner of the room unswept
in order to find that coin. After ten years of making trips into India and
travelling the back roads with brother Gootam, one thing I have learned is that
these hard working brethren have diligently searched out the lost souls in
these villages.
Second, a thorough search takes
time and energy. If you have ever lost an object around the house, and needing
to find that object, you know what time and effort it can take to find the lost
article. It takes time to get to these villages. It is not unusual to travel
two hours to get to one village. In the early days of the church here in India
transportation was limited. Some of the preachers we help support are still
very limited in their travel capabilities. Last year one preacher told us he
would catch the bus to his next preaching appointment; and quite often he would
have to walk. On occasions he simply cannot make the bus connections, and by
the time he gets to the next preaching appointment the crowds have left. I
wonder how many of us in America would be willing to take five hours out of our
week to make just one visit. We are so time-conscious and impatient that a
two-minute wait in the line at Walmart is intolerable.
Third, seeking lost souls in
India is, to be quite frank, quite inconvenient. Sitting in a traffic jam while
two oversized vehicles attempt to pass one another is inconvenient. The heat,
bumpy roads, lack of sanitation, and a thousand other inconveniences will
literally wear a body down. The preachers we support bear up under all those
inconveniences and more, for no other reason than the fact that they love the
souls of men. The physical discomforts that go with getting to, preaching, and
getting home from a night in the village will test any man’s stamina. The western
world has become so saturated with labor saving devices that we have in many
instances forgotten what it is like to labor. Perhaps we need to take a lesson
from the brethren here in India.
Finally, seeking lost souls is
very rewarding. Someone once asked me if I enjoyed writing. I answered them
with something a brother said to me: “I enjoy having written.” Any worthwhile
task is laborious, and often filled with frustration and setbacks. But in the
end, having achieved the desired task, one can enjoy the fruits of his labor.
So it is with seeking lost souls on the back roads of India (or anywhere for
that matter). There is a joy in knowing you have assisted someone to come to a
better knowledge of God’s word, or having taught and watched as a precious soul
confesses the good name of Christ and is baptized for the remission of his
sins. This is why I enjoy going to India. The sheer magnitude of obedient souls
overwhelms the heart and makes every inconvenience, every traffic jam, and
every difficult moment worth all the effort to seek and save the lost.
As for the many lost? It seems
to me it boils down to the choice as to whether or not to embrace what one has
heard. Multitudes in those small villages throughout India will still be lost.
Because of the diligent efforts of the dedicated and determined men who are
taking that ‘call’ to the people, the
lost will not be able to say they are lost because no one cared.