It was -24 degrees the other night as we walked home. NEGATIVE TWENTY FOUR. The weather at home in California doesn’t even dip close to positive 24, much less -24. Kim and I held each other’s thickly mittened hands as we walked, looking at each other through the small gap for our eyes between our heavy scarves and beanies. Our words were reduced to steamy, muffled vowels. At that temperature your snot freezes inside your nose - a feeling I have never experience before coming to M*ngolia - and if you breathe with your mouth open your tongue goes numb pretty quickly and your teeth sting as if you were eating the coldest bowl of ice cream ever - ice cream made from dry ice or something. Lesson 1: Don’t mouth-breathe. Lesson 2: Don’t complain the next time I have to put a full-suit on to go surfing in the winter. It’s not that cold. I will still be able to feel my tongue.
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It’s hard to believe that our one year mark of being in M*ngolia is right around the corner. In some ways, the weather here serves as a tangible example of the extremes that come with living in a country so diametrically opposite of our home. M*ngolia has some of the most severe weather on the planet, with summers soaring to over 100 degrees and winters plunging to, well, -24. Coming from a Southern California climate, this was shocking to say the least. But, it was the perfect backdrop for the adjustments and lessons that have come from living in a country whose biggest influences have been Russia and China, who are post-Communist but surging back towards socialism, and whose asian culture is dominated by Buddhism.
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A New Shade of Pride
As I think about Christmas here in Mongolia, one word has stuck in my mind: incarnation.
In one way or another, that is one of the biggest lessons I have been learning since coming here.
As time has passed here, particularly in the first six months, I’ve come to see how much unseen pride I carried in my baggage from the States. I couldn’t see it but it was there, underlying every complaint, every cultural critique, every perceived sign of disrespect, and certainly with every overt slight. It was there when I walked into rooms. It was there when I argued with immigration officials.
I walked around with a gigantic American flag-shaped chip on my shoulder. I felt I was enlightened by the world-power Capitalism I breathed. I had the cooler-than-thou hipster air that comes with being from the country that influences all of world culture (even as much as I might loathe all that we export). I felt I deserved respect for no other reason than where I was from.
I hadn’t seen that particular shade of pride before. I have traveled a good amount in my life and never come face to face with it. Maybe, now that I’m living in another country - particularly one where I’m one of six Americans in a city of 90,000 - my nationality was the only protection I had. My identity, my shield, was based on where I was from.
It just goes to show you how insidious and chameleon-like pride can be. The very things you are proud of, are the things you will look down on other people for not embracing. If you value your intelligence, you will look down on others you perceive as less intelligent. If you value your looks, you will look down on others you perceive as not taking care of themselves or eating right. If you value your political views, you will look down on others you deem less enlightened. And so it goes, on and on.
It took awhile but I had to fight that cultural arrogance like those arcade games where you have a mallet and you hit the alligator heads that pop up. Or maybe it was more like weeding. Either way, it was not a fun fight and it was a repulsive part of myself to have to confront, but I’m glad I did. I’m grateful God showed me that. I’m more thankful He let me keep the mallet as a reminder and just in case.
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Magnus & Johnny
Now, let me tell you about one of the most powerful things I’ve seen this year in M*ngolia. Last month I wrote about the national missions conference that was hosted by our church in our city. The keynote speaker was the Swedish pastor, Magnus, who lived here for 10 years and planted the church. He flew in from Turkey, where he is planting another church, to preached to his old people.
I had never seen anything like it. Here was this blonde, pasty-skinned Swede with glasses who came off like a native Mongolian. His language was pitch perfect. His tone was authoritative and humorous; he even told jokes like a Mongolian! Knowing the Mongolian culture’s affinity for stories, he told stories exactly as a Mongolian would. Here was a Swede in traditional Mongolian dress who had, thoroughly, become a Mongolian. Because of that he preached with power. I had never seen the Gospel preached like that. It was one of the most captivating things I’ve ever seen.
Similarly, I co-teach a Bible study at the church every Tuesday night with my friend Johnny. We’re about to wrap up a fall-long series on Romans. Johnny has been here for 4 years and speaks solid Mongolian. The Mongolians react to his teaching far more enthusiastically than mine. In fact I’ve noticed how their reactions change as Johnny switches between Mongolian and English. I can stand up there and give the most in-depth, detailed breakdown of a passage I can, and my questions would still be met with crickets and I’d still be met with blank stares at the end because I speak in English. Johnny, however, when he teaches in Mongolian, has them bantering with him and asking questions.
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He Came
Where are you going with all of this Nick? And what does this have to do with incarnation?
Well, if I’m the bad example, then Magnus and Johnny are the good examples. And if they’re the good examples, then Jesus is the ultimate example.
The Doctrine of the Incarnation means that God became flesh. Think about that. Really, really think about. The God who made galaxies and constellations, DNA and photosynthesis, joy, and love took on flesh and walked with us. He ate, He drank, He worked, He laughed, He cried, and He joked. He got splinters, He got hungry, He tied sandals, and He got tired.
I subconsciously thought I was awesome because I was from America and I was going to a country in a less fortunate situation. Christmas and the incarnation lay waste to our infantile ideas of self and hideous egos. Christmas and the incarnation proclaim that God Himself came from heaven and took on our form. God used our language and our speech. He entered our history.
Jesus defines His mission in the Gospels, often by saying what He came to do.
“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:10)
“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45)
“I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.” (Luke 5:32)
Very simply, the verb “came” tells us that Jesus was somewhere else and left there to be with us. He was in His glory in heaven; the same glory described in Isaiah 6, Revelation, Ezekiel, and Daniel.
Additionally, in each of those verses Jesus is saying that He didn’t come to do what mankind expected of Him. In Luke 19, Jesus dined with Zaccheus, a tax collector that the Jews would hated and viewed as a traitor. In Mark 10, His disciples had just misunderstood His mission as Messiah and had asked to sit in positions of privilege in heaven with Him. In Luke 5, He ate and associated with sinners instead of with the well-respected and pious Pharisees.
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What’s In Your Hands?
Now, stay with me because here is my challenge.
One of the key verses for social justice is Jesus’ reading of Isaiah in Luke 4.
“18 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
The church does need to be preaching good news to the poor, proclaiming liberty to captives, giving sight to the blind, and freeing the oppressed. Absolutely. One of the Biblically-mandated duties of the Church, and of Christians, is to help the poor.
But, of course, there is a danger. The danger is busyness. The danger is doing and doing but without the Gospel. The danger is to - because of our upbringing in the church or social status or a hundred other pride-born, blinding reasons - remove ourselves from the position of those in need.
He came to call US, the sinners, to repentance.
He came to save US, the lost.
He came to give His life as a ransom for US, those in bondage and unable to free themselves.
He came to proclaim good news to US, the poor and needy who needed true spiritual food.
He came to be with tax collectors, foolish disciples, sinners and US, who are equally as traitorous, ridiculous, and in need of forgiveness.
The danger is overemphasizing GO GO GO for THEM THEM THEM and completely missing the Gospel of what He did to make us who we now are. Remember that pride I mentioned before? It can apply here too.
Unless we see ourselves in the position of being desperately in need of Jesus, then we will miss the Gospel and be serving people with a sense of pride. As the poor, we come to God with nothing in our hands. If we come to Him with anything in our hands, if we go to the poor in our community with anything but a humble embrace of the of the Gospel, then you can be sure that what we clutch will be pride.
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Filthy Rags
The incarnation humbles us. The incarnation reminds us that it is Him who came to us, that it is Him who saves and who gives sight. Christmas is the awesome news that God, in the most unbelievable act of condescension, didn’t have pride that kept Him in heaven. He didn’t stay removed from His creation. He personally came into our skin, our history, and spoke to us; the God of the universe communicates with us in a way we can understand.
More so, the incarnation tells us that Jesus left His position of glory, power, and honor, to become poor. Literally, an eternal King became a homeless man. More shockingly, He came to us from being clothed in glory and worshipped by angels; and He died, naked, on a cross. First He became a man, then He who knew no sin took the world’s sins upon Himself to reconcile us to the Father. No other religion says that.
I don’t know about you, but all of that makes my pride in my nationality, my background, my upbringing, my intelligence, my achievements, my anything seem….as Isaiah would say, like filthy rags. I certainly don’t want to stand before God with anything in my hands, and I certainly don’t want to work among these people clutching anything other than the Gospel.
The words of a certain apostle come to mind; “Indeed, I count all things loss for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith”. (Php. 3:8,9)
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The Weary World
Robert Preus said that great hymns enable us to sing the faith into our hearts. This Christmas, as we dwell on the incarnation and as we gather to sing, may we fall on our knees from the wonder of it all. As we focus on Jesus’ appearing, may our souls feel their worth; and may we, the weary world, rejoice…wherever you are.
O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
‘Til He appear’d and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels’ voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory evermore proclaim.
His power and glory evermore proclaim.
