Three big, fat assumptions pt 2

Following up my last blog (hopefully, this installment won't be as lengthy as the last one I inflicted on my long-suffering audience), the second assumption people make is that the "heathen" are ignorant of Biblical truth. Now, let me make a point of distinguishing between knowledge of right and wrong and Biblical truth; by Biblical truth I mean basic Biblical facts and knowledge about God, Jesus, etc.

It is a very natural assumption to think that those living in desolate places without any contact with Christian civilization would be totally unaware of what the Bible teaches. However, it is an assumption, and one that has proven to be astonishingly wrong. Missionaries can tell you just how very wrong it is.

One such missionary is a gentleman named Jim Stanley, a missionary to an obscure African tribe called the Busaris (I doubt that is the correct spelling - I need to brush up on my obscure African dialects, I guess). Here were "ignorant heathens" at their best. When Mr. Stanley arrived in Africa, he didn't know quite where to begin teaching the Busaris about God and the Bible. So, he decided the best route of action was to discover what they did know, and he asked them out right what they knew about God. To which the chief replied, "We know three things. First, He exists. Second, He is going to judge us someday. Third, we are afraid of Him."

Now, how could they possibly know that God was going to judge them someday? The bare fact that God may exist was not just logical grounds to conclude that that God was going to judge them. So, the question remains, how did they know such a profound and fundamental Biblical fact?

This idea of judgement occurs with astonishing regularity among the heathen. Another case in point is the Ecuadorian Auca Indians or Waodani tribe made famous by the martyrdom of five men who attempted to reach them in 1956. The Waodani are animists, but they do believe that when they die, they will walk the trail to the afterlife where they will meet the Great Boa, or obe, and, if their deeds are such on earth as to make them strong, they will be able to jump the Great Boa and enter into the afterlife. While the Bible teaches nothing about a Great Boa, still it is fascinating to once again see the belief of future judgement so imbedded into a culture that should be ignorant of it.

But the story that takes the cake, is the story of the Yanomamo (Venezuelan rainforest) shaman talking with a Christian missionary. I believe the missionary's name is Gary Dawson, and this story is available for listening at this site:

http://radiotime.com/program/p_39957/Focus_On_The_Family.aspx

(You'll find the story under the title "Finding the One True God 2" I highly, highly recommend listening to part 1, also.)

For those of you who don't have the time to listen to the story at the above link, let me tell you as best as I can. One day Gary went to a village where no white man had ever been. As he approached the village, the chanting of the village shaman ceased abruptly. Gary didn't think too much of the incident at the time. However, the next day while talking to the old shaman, he got the surprise of his life. When he attempted to tell the shaman about God, the shaman told Gary he already knew about Him. The shaman's spirits had told him about God, but that He was their enemy. And then the shaman proceeded to tell Gary about the place where God lived, and to describe the angels/being who lived in His presence. He said that he had seen afar off the land where God lived, where there was a river that flowed through that land which was for healing. The shaman then went on to tell Gary that the reason the chanting had ceased so abruptly when Gary had first arrived was that the shaman's spirits were afraid of Gary's God, and that they wanted to know when Gary was leaving so they could come back.

!!!

(Only exclamation points will express my sentiments!)

Anything more to be said on this point would be superfluous. If such a story doesn't prove that the ignorant heathen aren't so ignorant after all, I don't know what does. I rest my case.

'Til next time,
Pastor Chelle