For who concedes you any superiority? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as though you did not? (1 Corinthians 4:7)
Five Africans and I were stuffed into a smallish motorcar in southern Nigeria. We plunged over jungle ruts that became a single track. The front bumper parted eight foot tall sword grass like the Red Sea. When we came to a wide river, I thought our trip must end, but we hailed a dugout canoe and paddled on. On the other shore, we abandoned our shoes and slashed our way through an emerald forest with a machete for another hour.
The destination was the palm thatched village of Ndinkasi, where they had little value for modernization, money, or modesty. The tribal elders informed me that no white man had ever been in their village. They treated me like royalty with long stares and great respect.
Many are the times when I have observed missionaries playing into the reverence the poor give them. I have succumbed to the temptation of that pedestal myself. It’s cultural centric snobbery at its worst when we claim superiority because of our manufactured possessions, that rot even as we hold them. Western affluence overrates temporal comforts and discounts the unencumbered life that waits for eternal blessings.
The joy in the heart of an African child is far more significant to God than the ambition of an upwardly progressive materialist. He applauds the one and temporarily abides the other. The children who ran up to touch my white skin and giggle had a beautiful existence to which I could only aspire.
It was only with the deepest admiration that I humbly offered those villagers the one treasure that would complete an already rich life—Jesus. I had nothing else to give.
Prayer: Holy Jesus, may I never claim to have anything except you.