Randy and I still abide in the land of the living and are now drawing our breath on the island of Sri Lanka. Thank you for your kind prayers for our long day of travel. When we planted our feet on the turf outside Parthee’s home last night (Monday) we were exhausted, having been up since Sabbath morning. We hope that a couple nights of rest will revive our energy.

Parthee’s cheerful disposition and spiritual conversation, coupled with the scenes outside the window of the vehicle, increased the delight of an otherwise grueling six hour trek from the capital city of Colombo to the north-central city of Vavanyu. I bombarded poor Parthee with a myriad of questions about life and ministry in Sri Lanka, which furnished me with enough material for many more posts, though the sand is now falling quickly through the hour glass that marks our return home. The Lord has bequeathed to this nation a fascinating history and rich culture. Over the next few days I will attempt to convey to you some of the treasurers I uncovered.

Our first impression coming off the plane had to do with the humidity, a substantial difference from arid Ahmedabad. Think sticky, very sticky. I am drenched even now as I write. The thermometer indicates temperatures slightly lower than we experienced in India, but I can hardly believe it. What do you call the opposite of a wind chill — you know how the wind chill makes it feel colder than the thermometer reads? I am clueless about the mathematical and scientific explanations, but the combined factors of closer proximity to the Equator, lower elevation, nearness to the sea and significantly higher humidity must magnify the heat index, but the net result feels like 50 degrees above the thermometer. We will happily acclimate over the next few days. Besides, consider the bright side: we guzzle gallons of water and sweat gallons back out our skin, thereby creating an internal washing machine that will leave us squeaky clean and healthy. Parthee’s house does not have air-conditioning, making it warmer inside than outside, but they also do not have hot water, which is a great boon in light of the former. We welcome a cool shower, and taking two or three a day is not uncommon for those who live here. But if my posts seem to degrade with time — remember that my brain is cooked. We may be hot, but we are happy. Randy and I are thrilled with the opportunity to support Christ’s kingdom in Sri Lanka. And I am sure that you will rejoice to hear about the Lord’s wonderful work and Parthee’s vision and labors.

My second impression had to do with the lush vegetation. Picture palm trees yielding enough coconuts to feed untold numbers of people. Parthee insists that they could not survive without coconuts, but they are only the tip of the ice berg (an misplaced metaphor, if there ever was one). Sri Lanka boasts of its status as a fruit paradise. All of the food found on Sri Lankan tables is harvested from with their own country. So they rotate what they eat based on what is in season, guaranteeing that every morsel is fresh from the fields. And they have a ton of variety from which to choose, much of which is new to me. Breakfast included wood apple jelly, a fruit that doctors here say is especially healthy. You can probably investigate wood apple on Wikipedia. They also have eight different varieties of bananas, including a red one. We know about mangos and papaya, but Parthee is capable of dazzling you with the names of fruit you have never heard.

The purpose of this brief post was to report that we arrived safe and sound, thanks to the Lord’s kind upholding. More details about the ministry will be forthcoming over the next couple of days, Lord willing. One final prayer request: Given all that I said about the weather, you can imagine the impact on the mosquito count. So please to continue to pray for protection against the diseases borne by that acrobatic menace. As our catechism teaches, God’s providence is over “all his creatures and all their actions”, including every flying insect and where they go and who they bite.

When you look at Sri Lanka on the map, it bears the resemblance of a giant tear drop. Their history, even the recent past, testifies to much hardship and many tears. But our hearts long for tears bearing the fruit of repentance joined with tears of joy over the sight of the Savior. You can join us in using the mental image of the tear drop as a prompt to pray Psalm 126 for this island nation and for Pastor Parthee’s ministry.

“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, brearing precious seed shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.”

The next post, which is already written, will include details of our last day in India.

Warm Regards,
Pastor Rob McCurley

I present to you some more sights from Ahmedabad.

1. A token Muslim, easily identified by his fabulous beard and cool cap and gown.
2. A “close knit” family in transit. Not two, not four, not even six, but a family of seven on a single motorcycle (You can’t see the baby on the other side). That does it — I’m sold. I am trading in our mini-van for a motorcycle when I return home. I had know idea my whole family would fit.
3. An Indian bottle neck. Your innards begin to quake when all of these are moving — through an intersection of ongoing traffic of equal numbers. Also note that I captured here in the city center one of the select few traffic lights in all of Ahmedabad. It functions as a pretty decoration but nothing more. The people are unaware of its existence. I am not exaggerating when I insist that the light means absolutely nothing — to police or passengers. Every intersection offers a unique free-for-all.
4. A New Yorker’s dream world. You find the words on the back of this truck, “Honk OK Please”, on half the moving vehicles in this city (regardless of their size). They respond in unison with a cacophony of ceaseless beeps day and night. I asked, and, yes, they literally wear out and regularly replace their horns, the only part of a South Carolinian vehicle that goes to the junk yard brand new.
5. A classic Rickshaw in standard green and yellow glory. You find more of these on the streets than hairs on your head. Now picture cramming every last child in our congregation into one these three-wheelers. Some of the numbers we have seen defy calculation.
6. Two corrupt traffic cops in typical tan, armed with a whistle and a stick. They stand on the side of the road, chew the fat and watch the bedlam in the streets. Then in classic tyrannical fashion they arbitrarily flag down some passerby, extract their hard earned money — and cram it into their own pockets, never ever to see the public coffers. Then back to loitering. Hold your breath now. Two days ago they pulled and searched our vehicle — no fourth amendment, mind you. No, I am not writing from an Indian prison, but if I was driving, we could have been sporting a new despotic hood ornament. Do these posts go on the Internet?
7. I have only laid eyes on two white people since we arrived nine days ago — and he is one of them (I am not the other.). Since Randy may read this post, I will wait until I get home to sing his praises. Thank you for praying for his valiant labors.
8. The Hindus built this pretty pyramid as a giant fire-cracker for their pagan festival earlier this week. As we drove home on Wed. (the days blur together now), we passed loads of these pyramids in various sizes (usually 3 feet to 8 feet high), sometimes every 50 yards. I was not present to see it, but at 7:30 that night, the whole city set them ablaze. Everything was closed Thursday, as they smeared everyone and everything in sight with bright colors. Google “images of the Holi festival” for a peak at the evidence.
9. A sample shrine, located a stone’s throw from the front door of the training center. The streets are littered with shrines everywhere you look. As I noted in an earlier post, we have four or five within a 100 yard stretch on the tiny, dirt road in front of the training center.

Lastly, did you know that the world consumes goat more than any other meat? And no wonder, it is scrumptious. I ate it with pleasure again today. What is wrong with Americans? We eat lamb and venison, close cousins — but no goat meat. Isn’t there an advocacy group for American goat farmers in Washington?

A touch of humor supports sanity here, as the sober realities easily overwhelm the soul. The spiritual death toll boggles the mind. If anything above brings a smile, I hope it cements India in your memory and fuels your future prayers for the Sun of Righteous to rise with healing in his wings over the Indian Subcontinent.

When the Free Church of Scotland shipped missionaries to India in the 19th century they disembarked in the south and confined most of their labors to that region. If you hanker for more of that story, you can dip into several histories and biographies available to modern readers. You will profit from the perusal.

But to appreciate the relevance of these posts, I must transport you deeper and higher into the mainland. India consists of 29 states, much like our 50 states in America. If you peak at the map, you will see that Ahmedabad sits as the principal city of the state of Gujarat (pronounced Goo-ja-rat). All of the men attending classes this week hail from the Northwest of India, which encompasses a wide area containing over a half billion souls. Logos (the training center) sends trainers/teachers to 14 different states in the North, representing about 700 main churches (or 2000+ places of worship). These ministers shoulder heavy responsibilities, serving in local churches simultaneous to training other men in ministry. While their teaching equips men preparing for ministry, a significant portion consists of “continuing education” for pastors already in the saddle. They point to the model of 2 Timothy 2:2, “And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.”
They conduct classes at the center in Ahmedabad on a quarterly basis, but they rotate who attends so that only a portion gather at one time. If they did not protect the men by factoring in their time constraints, the classes could crush many already burdened with heavy work loads.

So Logos functions as a decentralized, multi-tiered, mobilized church-planting Bible college . . . of sorts. The structure may defy familiar Western categories, but my heart cheers to see them launch a biblical gospel and basic Reformed doctrine across the landscape of this needy nation.

In an effort to bring all of this closer to home, I include below pictures of a sampling of a half dozen individual ministers, along with a small piece of their story.

1. Vinod lives in the city of Agra, the location of the famous Taj Mahal (The children can google pictures of this Muslim masterpiece, but Nish tells me that once you have toured the Taj Mahal, pictures will never again suffice.) Vinod serves as a trainer over his state of Uttarpradesh (UP). He is married with seven children.
2. Emmanuel lives with his wife and two children in Sirsa. He serves as a trainer for the state of Hariyana. They recently purchased land and hope to erect a new building.
3. Sohan resides in Banswada and has five children almost identical in ages to my own. He bears responsibility for the state of Rajasthan, which includes 32 main churches — with multiple places of worship attached to each of those.
4. Arjun lives in Ranchi in the state of Jharkhand and carries responsibility for training men in his state.
5. Charles hails from Roorkee in the state of Uttarkhand. He is a regional trainer over 5 states, which includes about 150 churches plus additional places of worship.
6. Manoj, who lives in Jejepur, the state of Chhattisgarh, requests prayer regarding the persecution and isolation Christians are facing from the Hindus in his area.

I hope this further information broadens your vision and deepens your prayerful interest in the Great Northwest of India.

The sight of your faces and the sound of your voices via the Skype arrangement this morning (Thurs. morning here; Wed. night there) provided a great boon for me. The singing of Psalm 67 placed icing on the cake. Thank you for your ongoing prayers.

With all Christian affection,
Pastor Rob McCurley