A New Thanksgiving.

Though miles away from the states, Rebekah and I faithfully celebrated Thanksgiving on Thursday. We laughed as we thought of our present circumstances…literally being a couple of “pilgrims” among Indians on Thanksgiving (in the truest sense).

Due to the complete absence of turkeys in South India, we contemplated eating a chicken for Thanksgiving, but the violent and bloody steps that proceeded in order to get the chicken into its edible form kept us from following through. Instead of attempting to create the beloved traditional foods of Thanksgiving—mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, and yams—we took a bold venture to attempt cooking a South Indian meal (with the help of several friends).

After explaining the history and heart of Thanksgiving Day to the Pastor Paulose’s family, they were thrilled to support and host the meal at their home. They had already been planning a celebratory church gathering, which happened to fall perfectly in time with Thanksgiving. Around forty people showed up and, sitting on grass mats, we enjoyed rice, lamb curry, vegetable sambhar, and a spread of other delicious Indian dishes (of course, we let someone else handle the whole meat task). Rebekah and I attempted to add a bit of American flair to the meal by making apple pie and peanut butter pie for desert. Serving frozen peanut butter pie to a crowd who rarely eats such rich sweets—or anything frozen for that matter—was nothing short of comical. In a culture where silverware is void, it was hilarious to watch hesitant older Indian women attempting to lift a piece of frozen pie with their fingers and dangle it above their mouth. “Woops, I didn’t even think about the fork factor,” Rebekah whispered. We held our breath until everyone had finished—pie all over their faces and endless smiles emerging. Almost at once the Indian women started shouting things at Rebekah and I in Tamil. “They really liked the desert!” the pastor’s wife explained laughing.

Just before we ate our meal together, all forty-something of us gathered in a seated huddle and sang several Tamil worship songs—our voices raising high to magnify our awesome and faithful God—who is, “the only one worthy of [our] praise, the only one who has done mighty miracles that [we] have seen with our own eyes” (Duet. 10:21). I sat there, legs criss-crossed and my head in my lap. Reflective memories of the previous three days alone were enough to fill my heart and spirit with an overwhelming gratefulness and a sheer joy that seemed to be breaking forth within me. The three days prior to Thanksgiving—the sights, the interactions, and the miracles I saw with my own eyes— filled me with such a renewed sense of the power of our God that I was rendered not only to a place of absolute gratitude and thankfulness, but a place where I was filled with a new wonder that seemed to push the frontiers of my faith and exceed the edges of my human imagination. A place that I believe will only expound as I continue to live with a hunger to see more. I found myself sitting there so filled with thankfulness that I serve a God who daily wants to reveal himself to me. A truth that has far less to do with the fact that I am being exposed to the miraculous in India, and much more to do with the fact that God will continually make Himself fully available to those who have an insatiable desire for Him—regardless of where they are living.

I adore the way Frank Laubach explains this faith phenomenon in his own life in Letters by a Modern Mystic:

“To be able to look backward and say, ‘This has been the finest year of my life’—that is glorious! But anticipation! To be able to look ahead and say, ‘The present year can and shall be better!”—that is more glorious!

If we said such things about our own achievements, we would be consummate egotists. But, if we are speaking of God’s kindness, and we speak truly, we are but grateful. And this is what I do witness. I have done nothing but open windows—God has done all the rest. There have been few if any conspicuous achievements. There has been a succession of marvelous experiences in the friendship of God. It was the lonesomest year, in some ways the hardest year of my life, but the most gloriously full of voices from heaven.”

Contemplative, I sat thinking on these words, embodied on Thanksgiving as I, too, found myself filled with a gratitude for the best year of my life because of God’s kindness. From last Thanksgiving spent at a decorative table in the presence of physical abundance and family, to this Thanksgiving spent on grass mats, eating with my hands, also in the presence of my family—one that has little to do with geography and everything to do with commonness of heart.

I thought of the miracles I saw just days before—a young woman supernaturally healed of stomach pain, a throng of villagers surrendering their lives to Christ for the first time, the beauty of the faith of individuals who have close to nothing in this world. All reasons enough to fill me with an unquenchable gratitude. I thought also of the darkness I have experienced this year—times of confusion and questioning, times of pain and mental suffering, times where “the bottom has completely fell out”. Experiences where Jesus had to remind me yet again that I needed to die—to come to the end of myself—to recall that I no longer live, but that He lives within me. Reflective of those times, I also found unquenchable gratitude—perhaps even greater gratitude than in the times of rejoicing, because it has been those times where I have seen Christ most clearly, experienced His love most fully, and found the greatest depths of freedom.

And so I move forward with prospects of another glorious year. A year of high expectations that I know will be fulfilled because of the ever-present, faithful, adventurous friendship of Christ Himself. A year of pressing open windows and leaving the rest to God.

Celebrate.

We've made it a weekly Saturday tradition to bake something with the girls. Last Saturday we made payasam together, an Indian porridge-like desert.

Deborah enjoying her plate of payasam.

The tiny hand of Kristina, the newest addition to the Infant Home.

Spending time with Kristina.

“Ancient Israel was commanded to gather together three times a year to celebrate the goodness of God. Those were festivals in the highest sense. They were the experiences that gave strength and cohesion to the people of Israel…the carefree spirit of joyous festivity is absent in contemporary [Western] society. Apathy, even melancholy, dominates the times…modern man has been pressed so hard toward useful work and rational calculation he has all but forgotten the joy of ecstatic celebration.”

-Richard Foster, The Celebration of Discipline

What has happened to times of corporate celebration? The year of Jubilee? Sadly, celebratory traditions seem to have disappeared somewhere along the trail of history under a heap of cultural muck, self-living and increased busyness of daily life.

When Jesus started his public ministry, he made an announcement that the time of celebration had come by reading the ancient scriptures from Isaiah aloud:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free, and that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.” (Luke 4:18-19)

God’s favor came through Jesus, the fulfilled prophecy. Because of this, His Kingdom is in our very midst. When he stated that “the time of the Lord’s favor has come”, he was referencing the celebration of the Year of Jubilee. Richard Foster explains that, “In the Old Testament all the social stipulations of the Year of Jubilee—cancelling all debts, releasing slaves, planting no crops, returning property to the original owner—were a celebration of the gracious provision of God. God could be trusted to provide what was needed”. Similarly, today Jesus calls us to a perpetual state of Jubilee in the Holy Spirit. To be free of the weightiness of possessions, to be radically freed from anxieties of daily life, to release anything that is choking us or blinding us from the reality that we can cast all of our cares upon God, because He cares for us. There is a liberation that comes with celebration. He has turned our mourning into dancing…there is reason to celebrate!

Amidst the thick fog of pain, poverty, injustice and struggle that I see and encounter daily here in India—even amidst seemingly irreparable brokenness—I can see the reality of the Kingdom stirring heavily in the lives of believers I meet. A reality that brings an inextinguishable, inexpressible, even absurd peace…and joy. Joy that is found in the obedience of living a life consumed by Christ and trusting Him. Joy so rich that, naturally, it ensues celebration.

The church body here in Rameswaram recently entered a time of celebration—an annual period of twenty-one days dedicated to corporate prayer. Prayer meetings occur twice a day in the church—one in the morning and a second that rolls deep into the night. When praying together, thankfulness and celebration seem to overflow. A few days ago, during the middle of a prayer session, the entire church started to sing and dance—for no other reason than to praise God for the ways He has been faithful. At first, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight—everyone from grey-haired grandpas to wobbly-legged toddlers were skipping and dancing around the straw mats lining the floor of the church. It felt like the dance floor at a spirited wedding reception…Indian style. I found myself immersed in a joyful moment of celebration. Before long I was clasping hands with a petite pathi (grandma) smiling wide with a toothless grin as we alternately kicked our legs from side to side—our heads thrown back in laughter. I can’t say I’ve ever entered into a time of outright dancing in church before. But there was something glorious about it! Our dancing extended beyond recreation—it was a way of exalting God’s goodness and ever-present faithfulness in each of our lives.

Lately, reasons to celebrate seem countless. After months of prayer over issues that seemed to be stewing in a stagnant stupor, God has reminded me that He is a God of action that indeed listens to my prayers and the cries of each individual back at home prayerfully partnering to see God’s Kingdom come here in Rameswaram. A God that has been working all along to carry His masterful plans into completion. Plans that exceed mine—or those of any other human being— by a long shot.

Through prayers lifted up for the orphans on campus and a meeting with the pastors to make an attempt to express my concerns for the girls’ futures and well being, I have watched God’s faithfulness unfold as new strategies are being made to heighten the present living conditions and further the progress for the desired end goal—watching the girls enter loving, forever families through adoption. While adoption is the long-term goal, immediate short-term goals are being met presently. Just yesterday, a beneficial “transition home” was established in a separate room of the orphanage. With two full-time caretakers, it will provide a medial environment for the babies from the infant home to enter during toddler-age until they are prepared to adjust to living with an older age group of girls. Another short-term goal of setting up each girl with an older female “mentor” is being organized and fulfilled.

The newest littlest miracle to celebrate on campus is Kristina, a six day old baby girl and rescued near-victim of female infanticide. Rebekah and I have been visiting her nightly, holding her petite seven-pound frame, kissing her soft forehead and thanking Jesus that she’s been given a second chance at life.

Reasons to celebrate extend beyond the campus walls here in Rameswaram. I received an email from Justin this week relaying experiences from his sojourn to North India and the disaster sites of Orissa. He wrote:

“When I was touring in the North, people kept having me preach and pray for people. I must have prayed for a hundred people. I kept praying in my head, ‘Jesus, I'm not sure I have the faith to see these people healed, but I know you can. Can you give them the faith? At least have one of these people healed so they are encouraged about you.’ I just got an email from the pastors in Calcutta that most of the people experienced healing…Praise Jesus! Oh, thank our amazing Lord that he'd have mercy on a faithless wretch like me and on a ton of people who have no hope outside of His provision... He's SO GOOD!”

Justin is right, He is so good. Good enough to heal the sick. Care for orphans. Rescue a child from the threshold of death and give her new life. Provide Jenitta and her four daughters with the financial provision to cover two years of their education through a generous sponsor from the states. Give Gheeta her first sound night’s sleep after a month of restlessness.

His goodness leaves me hungry for more. I’ve tasted the Kingdom of the here-and-now and I am aching for the Kingdom to come…the Kingdom perfected in eternity. The day when faith becomes sight. The day when we are freed from the burden of possessions, through with sickness, relieved from pain, done with sin…the day when death is destroyed and Truth prevails. The day that “the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Isaiah 11:10). The day that marks the beginning of an eternity of celebration.