delhi

Two to three days in Delhi is usually about all I can take. As recently as two weeks ago, the heat and the apocalyptic yellow haze would have been so much worse. But, praise the Lord, the monsoon has begun! Temps are in the 80s with some rain here and there. Unfortunately, a lot of rain in the mountains we have to cross means mudslides and washed-out roads. Our overland path crossing the Himalaya, at this point, is uncertain. Prayers appreciated. We head out early tomorrow morning in a 12-seater Tempo, bound for Manali at about 6500 ft in elevation. It’s a 12-hour drive that must start early to avoid Delhi traffic.

Yesterday was good. Word on the street is that lots of Israelis are in India these days, many on leave from the IDF and seeking a bit of escape from the war, the opposite of what we expected. A walk through the Delhi dump that is Paharganj didn’t disappoint. I’ve never understood why this neighborhood attracts the Israelis and the tourists. It’s like a snapshot out of an Indiana Jones flick. Years ago, I preached down there, and it got a bit rowdy. The team had at least 6 encounters with lost sheep from the House of Israel, and all took Hebrew Trekker tracts. One young lady was so appreciative of our show of kindness and love that she gave Bethany a big bear hug.

Witnessing to an Israeli young man in Paharganj

Sadly, I am having to ration Hindi tracts at this early stage. The supply would be exhausted in a place like Connaught Place or Lajpat Nagar in less than an hour if we allowed it to be so. Notwithstanding, some material did go out with shopkeepers, taxi drivers, etc. It’s not like America. You could fill a backpack full of tracts, and it would take days, perhaps weeks, to get all of that into the hands of willing recipients. Not so in South Asia. Once, in Kathmandu, we distributed 1200 Bibles in 20 minutes. In one year, we distributed 100,000 Scripture portions across Nepal.

Today, we’ll hit the streets again. There is no such thing as real, genuine poverty in the United States. The closest to it would NOT be on the streets of East LA or Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. You might get close in the mountains and hollows of West VIrginia or Eastern Kentucky, but still, no real poverty. You can find it here though. There’s no better wake-up call for Americans who take their affluence for granted than to make them walk through the midst of a South Asian slum.

Thanks for your prayers. The Great Commission was never meant to be easy or boring. And there really are uttermost ends of the earth where things never really happen as you expect. My first brief episode of public preaching  on this journey wasn’t on a busy street corner. It was at a baggage claim in a huge international airport. Neither was it in English. It was in Hebrew, addressing a group of Israelis grabbing their bags. I addressed them as friends and told them in no uncertain terms that the God of Israel is real and that He changed my life. Moreover, the Messiah of Israel is real, very real. We must call upon Him. At the mention of Messiah, I caught a glimpse of the VAIL in that fluorescent airport lighting. A wall went up after the manner of II Corinthians 3:12. And yet, that vail can be taken away in Christ. Hallelujah! One can never go wrong declaring Christ the Messiah, and there is always one more place to go and one more place to preach … to both Jew and Gentile.

“But when they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another: for verily I say unto you, Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come” (Matthew 10:23).

Go ye therefore!