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Stuart's Briscoe Bulletin: Traveling in Southeast Asia By Plane,Train, Taxi,Tobaggan, River Ferry, “Put-Put,” and Elephant
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Stuart, Jill and their two grandsons recently traveled to the streets of China, Thailand, Myanmar, and Hong Kong, While there, they ministered to the local churches, met a Buddhist Monk who could speak at length about World Cup Soccer, but had never seen a Bible, and toured a mosque under the congenial welcome of a Pakistani mullah. Read as Stuart shares the amazing sights they saw and experiences they had throughout the Far East.
A frequently asked question on our travels is “Business or pleasure, sir?” On our recent trip, the appropriate answer was “Yes.” Even though we were primarily traveling once again to the Far East to minister to churches in that part of the world, we had the added pleasure of taking two of our grandsons with us. Drew (20) and Jordan (18) are both Wheaton College students, and while they have traveled widely with their parents, they had never before ventured to Southeast Asia. So we had the joy of seeing a part of the world with which we are very familiar, afresh through their eyes.
A nonstop flight from Chicago deposited us in Beijing, China in about 12 ½ hours. We were met by Grace, a secretary from the Beijing International Christian Fellowship (BICF) and Chia, a genial giant of a man whose very limited English was vastly superior to our accumulated Chinese! Chia was to be our driver during our time in Beijing, provided by a pastor who also made his family’s apartment available to us while they were in the U.S.
My first assignment was to speak to a group of elderly Chinese believers congregating in a Three Self Church – commonly known as the registered church. The Three Self Church title has an interesting history. When the Communists gained control in China they wanted to purge their land of all foreign influence not least the “Westernized” influence of the Christian church. So they expelled all foreign missionaries and set about controlling and remaking the existing church according to their indigenous vision. They were, however, aware that avant-garde Western missiologists in those days were seeking to free the missionary church from its colonial associations and were advocating a new philosophy of missions that is orthodox doctrine today! They were preaching a self-governing, self-supporting, self-propagating church. The ever astute Chinese picked up on those terms, gave them a Chinese flavor, and The Three Self Church was born! Many believers chose not to be part of the registered church and became known as the “underground church,” or the “unregistered church” or the “house church movement.” In all these expressions of the church, there has been a powerful movement of the Spirit evidenced by exponential growth. I have had the privilege of ministering in a number of different branches of the church in China and this time it was the Three Self Church.
The aforementioned Beijing International Christian Fellowship, as its name suggests, is a ministry sanctioned by the government to serve the international community residing in Beijing. In recent years it too has grown exponentially, and Jill and I were invited to lead a daylong seminar on “The Holy Spirit and You” in one of their satellite fellowships. I spoke to thousands of people in two of the 13 Sunday services being conducted that day in nine different languages. As usual, at BICF we met friends from various parts of the globe including our old friend David Wang who was preaching in some of the Chinese services.
ZDL is a publishing company founded in Beijing to produce Christian literature under the government’s oversight in simplified Mandarin. A few years ago my book, “The Ten Commandments” was produced by them and has been on sale in bookstores ever since. On this visit to Beijing we were able to introduce the simplified Mandarin version of my book on Proverbs entitled “Vital Truths.” So a busy hour or two was spent signing copies that were promptly picked up by enthusiastic young believers.
All was not work, however! With Chia’s help we made the pilgrimage to the famous Great Wall of China (surely one of the ancient world’s surpassing engineering marvels) to which we ascended in a chair lift through spectacular mountains and from which we descended in individual toboggans at great speed – except Jill who was in dire danger of being rear-ended! Visits to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, Mao’s mausoleum, Chinese acrobats, and restaurants serving Peking duck kept us busy until it was time, late each night, to overdose on World Cup Football (soccer).
A four-hour flight took us south and west to Bangkok, the capital city of Thailand. Thai people are known for their ready smiles, welcoming attitudes, and quiet demeanor, but that does not mean they are incapable of being roused to sometimes violent action, as was the case recently. Thousands of people clad in “red shirts” took over the business center of the city and refused to move until their demands were met. They were not met, but the protestors were eventually met by armed forces and made to capitulate. Similar violent actions had recently been undertaken by “yellow shirts” who took over the magnificent new airport and virtually brought travel to a standstill until they were dispersed – but not as forcibly as their opponents wearing red shirts. We, however, saw no signs of unrest or military presence, and the customary smiles were brightly in evidence as if all was well.
A three-hour bus journey to the northeast took us through endless rice paddies to our destination – a well-appointed resort on the edge of a large nature reserve. We were the guest speakers at the annual conference of Christian workers who belong to an organization we have worked with on numerous occasions over the last 40 plus years. This particular organization was one of the major Christian presences dismissed from China, as mentioned above, but they wisely saw this setback as a step forward. Instead of focusing attention on the “closed door” of China, they traveled all over the Orient to the wide open door of the Chinese Diaspora. As a result, their ministry grew exponentially. Participating in the conference were many experienced brothers and sisters alongside not a few wide-eyed younger “freshman” who hungrily listened to the teaching we were able to bring them as a means of encouragement and support. We learned many years ago that speaking to the heart is always the way to go when speaking to those involved in the front lines of ministry.
Our grandsons managed a couple of safaris through the nearby tropical jungle – one on elephants! We also managed to keep an eye on the World Cup, although by this time it was apparent that neither England nor U.S.A. was striking fear in any of the big boys’ hearts and the “Time of their departure dreweth nigh!”
A free day at the end of the conference was spent in a hasty, hot, humid exploration of Bangkok via taxi, train, river ferry, “put put,” and on foot. We joined thousands of visitors, local and tourist, gazing at the brilliant, dazzling gold-plated towers of the the Grand Palace in Bangkok, the Monastery of the Reclining Buddha (the heat would make even a brass Buddha lie down), and an elevator ride to the tallest building in Thailand from which we could see the endless stretches of smog enshrouded habitations, stadia, road and rail infrastructure, and the once occupied, now cleaned up business center.
A brief one-hour flight took us to Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, where we were met by our old friend John Gowdy. In his typically efficient, unassuming way John had arranged for us to speak to a gathering of church leaders in the capital city of Yangon – formerly Rangoon. We had been able to plan for 350 participants, but plan B was immediately called for as 650 people showed up! I had been to this group on two previous occasions, but Jill was invited this time to do something that had not been done before –to care for the women in ministry. On arrival at the stated venue, we were greeted with the obligatory tea and then ushered into a couple of rooms that were packed with people in spaces not designed to accommodate them. There was no discernable air conditioning in operation, the heat was in excess of 100 degrees, and the humidity was chasing it! Our assignment was to teach from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. each day. As is always the case in situations such as this one, the people, uncomfortable as they undoubtedly were, listened with keen attention to the messages we brought which were translated for the benefit of those who did not know English.
A visit with the grandsons to one of the spectacular temple complexes in Yangon provided us with a fascinating contact with a young Buddhist monk. He greeted us as we made our way warily across one of the vast marble paved courtyards slick with tropical rain. He wore a saffron robe, carried a rolled umbrella and his shaved head gave him an aura of age that was belied by his youthful features. “Where are you from?” he asked. “I replied, “England and my grandsons from America.” “Ah Manchester?” he inquired. “Yes Manchester,” I replied, then asked him “Manchester United?" His face lit up and he shouted, “Christiano Ronaldo!!” This conversation, for the uninitiated, is about football – the global sport that opens conversation around the world. He instantly became our friend and insisted on showing us around the temples, explaining their rituals, and telling us the stories behind the images that abound. Eventually after I’d told him we were Christians and I was a Christian teacher (pastor would be meaningless to him) I asked if he had heard about the Christian God. “I’ve heard about Catholics,” he replied, “and I heard they have a book, but I have not seen one. But I can download stuff on the Internet.” It was a joy to be able to tell him to log on to www.tellingthetruth.org. We bid our young friend farewell after I had asked him if I might pray for him to the Christian God. He readily replied in the affirmative. I wondered if anyone had ever prayed for him before.
From Myanmar we flew to Hong Kong en route for home, staying long enough to preach once in the Alliance International Church and show Drew and Jordan the sights of one of my favorite cities. The mix of old world Chinatown and some of the most modern skyscrapers in the world balanced with apparent ease on precarious mountainsides is utterly unique. We stood watching the sunset gracefully usher in the warm night as the skyscrapers, one by one, came brilliantly alive in a dazzling, colorful “Symphony of Light” show. The next morning we boarded a ferry, clambered on a tram, and ratcheted our way up practically perpendicular Victoria Peak to catch one of the world’s great views…Hong Kong harbor - where ocean going liners, ancient junks, beetle-like ferries, and massive container ships that look as if they’ll capsize at any moment compete for space in the choppy waters.
I asked my grandsons one afternoon when we had a rare lull in frenetic activities if they had ever visited a mosque and they said they had not. So having introduced them to a Buddhist place of worship, we entered the new Islamic Center on one of Hong Kong’s busiest streets. We were met by a young Pakistani mullah who spoke impeccable English and was most eager to show us around and answer our questions.
I pointed out to the boys the clearly marked positions on the marble floor where the men prostrate themselves in worship and said to the mullah, “Do you know why more American men do not convert to Islam?"
He replied that he did not.
Pointing to the narrow space allotted to an Islamic worshipper for prayer, I said, “Because most American men will not fit into that narrow space.”
He laughed – fortunately – and while the joke was weak and possibly politically incorrect, it gave my grandsons a chance to see that all Muslims are not terrorists and that it is easy to relate to them naturally and even share a laugh as well as have serious discussions with them.
Our mullah friend took us into his Madrassa where a solitary little boy was seated at a table holding a large book. He looked up, smiled and said brightly “Yes” in reply to my query as to whether he spoke English. “What are you doing?” I asked him. “Studying” he replied. “What are you studying?” I further inquired. “Koran,” he answered. He was an 11-year-old being tutored in the tenets of his faith.
In Hong Kong we have a number of the most hospitable and generous friends in the world and our only problem was finding time for each of them. But we spent one evening meal with a complete family in a penthouse overlooking the city and another evening sailing to one of Hong Kong’s three hundred islands for a fish dinner freshly caught from tanks stacked high with miserable looking “denizens of the deep.” As the Chinese leave the head on their cooked fish I find it difficult to eat one and look it in the eye. I studiously avoid its reproachful gaze-I think it betrays a character weakness on my part.
