Beep! HONK! Beeeeep!
Heading home from the grocery store, I slid into the taxi and prepared myself for a typical slow and sticky ride through Yangon - with car exhaust and air pollution permeating the lingering heat in inching traffic.
I've learned the art of taxi catching and haggling, have obtained a good sense of reasonable prices to different locations, and am not shy to give the typical, "Ma hoke boo!" to decline unreasonable offers. (It costs about $1-3 to my frequented destinations, and I know when to accept, and when to barter.) Most taxi drivers know a bit of English, though on occasion a driver will look at me, ask a question in Burmese, and expect me to follow. I take that as a compliment, but helplessly respond, "Ba lare?" (What?) "Bama sargar maa tut bu." (I don't speak Burmese.) They usually laugh, and I conclude the ride with, "Jay zu tin ba dare! Tata." (Thank you! Goodbye.)
The other day, I had a thought. What if I was able to share the gospel with every taxi driver I had contact with? This thought was prompted via a taxi ride to church with my Burmese roommates and a few friends, all crammed in the car singing to Kari Jobe as we waited in halted traffic. I tried to read our driver's face as he listened to a group of giddy Burmese girls (and the American) singing of Jesus and what He has done in our hearts. I pondered the unique amount of individual time that is provided on rides across town and how I could use those unique opportunities to share my faith... if I knew extensive Burmese. I tucked that thought away for the time being.
Back in today's taxi, I was drifting into my own thoughts when my driver interrupted with a panicky request for directions. This could have prompted impatience on my part, as drivers shouldn't accept a passenger without a proper knowledge of the destination, but as I have frequented my surroundings, I took this as an opportunity to draw a simple map with the landmarks and roads I knew the names of, and show it to him with a gracious smile.
After settling our navigational scramble, we dove into a friendly conversation, and I realized that God had given me a divine appointment with my new friend Lin Aung Kyaw.
"You should come back in April! For the water festival!" he remarked with enthusiasm.
"But that's a Buddhist festival!" I said with a smile. "I'm a Christian."
"Me too!" said Lin Aung Kyaw with the hugest grin. He gives me a thumbs up..."Yes, Jesus! Yes, I know!"
"Chyun ma Yeshu go chide!" (I love Jesus) I told him.
He laughed, "Me too! Yes, I love Jesus!"
Enjoying our encouraging time of bonding, I asked him about his "religion" and was surprised at the syncretism in his response.
"You are a Christian?"
"Yes!" he said.
"...Were you ever a Buddhist?" Our dialogue got confusing as he first identified his family as Christian, but then called himself a Buddhist, while also identifying himself as knowing Jesus. We spent a little time discussing such, and he shared with me of his desire to learn more about the life of Jesus and His teachings.
At the right moments I was prompted to insert words of power and truth throughout our discussion. As I contrasted the figures of Buddha and Jesus, his eyes were searching and his heart wide open as I explained that Buddha is dead but Jesus is ALIVE , that Buddha does not have personal love for him but Jesus truly does, and that Jesus made a way for our souls. "Buddha cannot help you... but Jesus can help you!"..."Jesus has POWER over everything"... "You can only choose one. You must choose Buddha OR Jesus."
Lin Aung Kyaw was very receptive to all of these words and hungry for more truth. The phrase I've learned in comparing Buddhism and Christianity is "true God." People really do want to worship the "true God;" many Buddhists really are seeking, and simply do not know enough truth.
Lin Aung Kyaw prays to both Buddha and Jesus. When I shared of Jesus being alive and loving us, he responded that he has felt the connection in his heart between Him and Jesus while praying, but has not felt that same warm connection to Buddha. Because of this, he knows my words are true. He shared of dreams he had in the night - of Jesus asking Lin Aung Kyaw why he had forgotten Him or gone away from Him. My first silent thought was, 'Woah! The Lord is speaking of his connection to Buddhism and calling Lin Aung Kyaw back to Himself.' Though, I also realized these dreams unsettled Lin Aung Kyaw and gave him the feeling that Jesus was upset with him and angry at him.
I met him in his fears of God's wrath and unkindness, assuring him of the overwhelming love God has for him. He was pleased with that and laughed a little bit about his dream. Next, he shared of the difficulties in his life and felt as if God did not care - that God did not see him.
"Jesus sees you, and wants to help you. Pray to Him, and He will help you." I encouraged. Once again, Lin Aung Kyaw nodded, and so graciously accepted my words as truth and knowledge.
Coming to the end of our drive, Lin Aung Kyaw was quick to give me all of his contact information, invite me to his home, and offered to drive me wherever I need. I tore out a notecard, wrote my name and email, and smiled as we snapped pictures of each other. Closing the car door, I reminded him, "You must choose..."
His words earlier that day will long be ingrained on my heart:
"I want to learn more of the life of Jesus and His teachings. You teach me!"
Through the eyes of a foreigner, the streets of Yangon are owned by Buddha. One will see the plethora of orange and scarlet robes dotting the streets, the idols at every turn, and smell the Buddhist incense rising in the night. But through the eyes of Jesus, I am learning to see just the one in front of me at the moment, the small opportunities at every turn, and smell the aroma of Christ that is rising over this nation.
Buddha is dead.
Jesus is alive.
And in Him I have placed my hope.
Heading home from the grocery store, I slid into the taxi and prepared myself for a typical slow and sticky ride through Yangon - with car exhaust and air pollution permeating the lingering heat in inching traffic.
I've learned the art of taxi catching and haggling, have obtained a good sense of reasonable prices to different locations, and am not shy to give the typical, "Ma hoke boo!" to decline unreasonable offers. (It costs about $1-3 to my frequented destinations, and I know when to accept, and when to barter.) Most taxi drivers know a bit of English, though on occasion a driver will look at me, ask a question in Burmese, and expect me to follow. I take that as a compliment, but helplessly respond, "Ba lare?" (What?) "Bama sargar maa tut bu." (I don't speak Burmese.) They usually laugh, and I conclude the ride with, "Jay zu tin ba dare! Tata." (Thank you! Goodbye.)
The other day, I had a thought. What if I was able to share the gospel with every taxi driver I had contact with? This thought was prompted via a taxi ride to church with my Burmese roommates and a few friends, all crammed in the car singing to Kari Jobe as we waited in halted traffic. I tried to read our driver's face as he listened to a group of giddy Burmese girls (and the American) singing of Jesus and what He has done in our hearts. I pondered the unique amount of individual time that is provided on rides across town and how I could use those unique opportunities to share my faith... if I knew extensive Burmese. I tucked that thought away for the time being.
Back in today's taxi, I was drifting into my own thoughts when my driver interrupted with a panicky request for directions. This could have prompted impatience on my part, as drivers shouldn't accept a passenger without a proper knowledge of the destination, but as I have frequented my surroundings, I took this as an opportunity to draw a simple map with the landmarks and roads I knew the names of, and show it to him with a gracious smile.
After settling our navigational scramble, we dove into a friendly conversation, and I realized that God had given me a divine appointment with my new friend Lin Aung Kyaw.
"You should come back in April! For the water festival!" he remarked with enthusiasm.
"But that's a Buddhist festival!" I said with a smile. "I'm a Christian."
"Me too!" said Lin Aung Kyaw with the hugest grin. He gives me a thumbs up..."Yes, Jesus! Yes, I know!"
"Chyun ma Yeshu go chide!" (I love Jesus) I told him.
He laughed, "Me too! Yes, I love Jesus!"
Enjoying our encouraging time of bonding, I asked him about his "religion" and was surprised at the syncretism in his response.
"You are a Christian?"
"Yes!" he said.
"...Were you ever a Buddhist?" Our dialogue got confusing as he first identified his family as Christian, but then called himself a Buddhist, while also identifying himself as knowing Jesus. We spent a little time discussing such, and he shared with me of his desire to learn more about the life of Jesus and His teachings.
At the right moments I was prompted to insert words of power and truth throughout our discussion. As I contrasted the figures of Buddha and Jesus, his eyes were searching and his heart wide open as I explained that Buddha is dead but Jesus is ALIVE , that Buddha does not have personal love for him but Jesus truly does, and that Jesus made a way for our souls. "Buddha cannot help you... but Jesus can help you!"..."Jesus has POWER over everything"... "You can only choose one. You must choose Buddha OR Jesus."
Lin Aung Kyaw was very receptive to all of these words and hungry for more truth. The phrase I've learned in comparing Buddhism and Christianity is "true God." People really do want to worship the "true God;" many Buddhists really are seeking, and simply do not know enough truth.
Lin Aung Kyaw prays to both Buddha and Jesus. When I shared of Jesus being alive and loving us, he responded that he has felt the connection in his heart between Him and Jesus while praying, but has not felt that same warm connection to Buddha. Because of this, he knows my words are true. He shared of dreams he had in the night - of Jesus asking Lin Aung Kyaw why he had forgotten Him or gone away from Him. My first silent thought was, 'Woah! The Lord is speaking of his connection to Buddhism and calling Lin Aung Kyaw back to Himself.' Though, I also realized these dreams unsettled Lin Aung Kyaw and gave him the feeling that Jesus was upset with him and angry at him.
I met him in his fears of God's wrath and unkindness, assuring him of the overwhelming love God has for him. He was pleased with that and laughed a little bit about his dream. Next, he shared of the difficulties in his life and felt as if God did not care - that God did not see him.
"Jesus sees you, and wants to help you. Pray to Him, and He will help you." I encouraged. Once again, Lin Aung Kyaw nodded, and so graciously accepted my words as truth and knowledge.
Coming to the end of our drive, Lin Aung Kyaw was quick to give me all of his contact information, invite me to his home, and offered to drive me wherever I need. I tore out a notecard, wrote my name and email, and smiled as we snapped pictures of each other. Closing the car door, I reminded him, "You must choose..."
His words earlier that day will long be ingrained on my heart:
"I want to learn more of the life of Jesus and His teachings. You teach me!"
Through the eyes of a foreigner, the streets of Yangon are owned by Buddha. One will see the plethora of orange and scarlet robes dotting the streets, the idols at every turn, and smell the Buddhist incense rising in the night. But through the eyes of Jesus, I am learning to see just the one in front of me at the moment, the small opportunities at every turn, and smell the aroma of Christ that is rising over this nation.
Buddha is dead.
Jesus is alive.
And in Him I have placed my hope.