Yesterday was “that” day. I knew it was coming. I was in line waiting for the barista to make my latte at Starbucks and while the milk was steaming he beamed over the equipment and greeted me, “Good day, my lady.” His accent was unmistakably West African so, returning his greeting, I asked, “Where in Africa are you from?” His smile widened further as he announced with pride, “Togo.”
“I have a cousin serving as a missionary in Togo,” I shared. As he poured the milk into the espresso he said, “It is a beautiful place. I miss it very much.”
“You are here for work then?” I inquired. And he handed me my coffee he leaned toward me and whispered, “I’m here on a mission from God.”
“Really? What kind of mission?”
“The only kind that matters: Introducing people to Jesus. He is the Savior of the world and one day He is coming again. Most people are not ready for that because most people don’t even know who He really is. Especially here in America,” my brother-in-Christ shared with a heart filled with passion and compassion.
I have known for some time that we are experiencing the back-flow of mission as U.S. Christians continue to abandon the primary calling of the Church to proclaim the Gospel, making disciples and teaching people to obey everything that Christ commands. I had not, until today, met such a foreign missionary on U.S. soil.
If Jacques is any indication, they are working as tentmakers in our midst. His humility and joy, calling and commitment to evangelize what he perceives as a pagan nation is irrepressible. The mainline expression of North American Christianity may be dying, but the Church of Jesus Christ is alive and moving.
Jacques perceives himself to be literally snatching people out of the fire. He has the spirit of Peter and Paul, the Spirit of the living God. He is more my brother than people with whom I share a denominational moniker but with whom there is no unity of the Spirit and no bond of peace in Jesus Christ as the only way to salvation.
Jacques and I are praying for each other and he is also praying for my cousin, Jenny, and her family whom God has sent as missionaries to his homeland of Togo. To that point he acknowledged, “As was true for Jesus, prophets are not as welcome in their hometown as they are far from home. I don’t understand that, but it is true. You have listened to me today because to your ears my voice is beautiful. My people will listen to your cousin because she has blond hair. What we share is Jesus. Nothing else matters. Only Jesus.”
Amen, my brother, amen.