This is one of three international trips I am taking in four months. Nancy is great about this stuff. Her heart beats as strongly for the world as mine does. Still, she gets stuck at home dealing with the crises of teenaged girls and house projects that never seem to end.
I’m at a gun club near the city of Cochin, southwest India. Because the country is so overwhelmingly Hindu (with a strong Muslim minority), the small Christian population has trouble finding meeting places. Most Indian Christians are from the lower castes. Most often they are untouchable Dalits who are beneath the caste system altogether. Because of this reality, purchasing property for a church is a challenge. It’s a challenge because they do not have the funds for it and because Dalits are not allowed to own property anywhere near other caste members.
Not my idea of a good time. Nineteen hours on a crowed, hot Indian train to spend a few hours with a stranger, then turning around and making the trip again. Thankfully, I am not making the trip. Subumal Dutta is.
Subumal Dutta’s story fascinates me. As a young man he was employed at a Hindu temple, serving in their social action section. One day during his early morning mediation he saw a vision of light and the cross, though he had no idea what it was.
I’m tempted to kiss the ground after exiting the car. It had been a three hour car trip from Rajamundry. I would have been happier if we had taken more time but fewer risks.
The answer? An amazing church planter.
Read more: What Do You Call An Excommunicated Hindu Communist Activist?
Suku and Jesse Thomas are haunted by statements like this, made by a poor farmer desperate for rain to water his crops. With no other recourse and no knowledge of Jesus, he took the local witch doctor’s advice and sacrificed his oldest son. He hoped to earn favor with whatever deity could provide rain.
Read more: “If You Had Been Here Sooner, I Would Not Have Sacrificed My Sons.”
