All the same inside

During the past 6-7 months overseas, I have had the privilege of learning so many lessons about other cultures and the global church. Yet after three weeks of trekking in the Himalayas, I remember being struck with a realization: deep down, we are all really the same. I spent much of my time in Asia seeing only the differences between my culture and theirs, between their way of worship and mine, between their traditions and mine. At first glance, the differences are stark. I struggled to find any similarities with my largely Asian team, not sure how I fit in or how I could relate to them. In this season, I learned a lot about what it looks like to champion someone completely different from myself.

At the same time, I realize in retrospect that I often used my own Westernness as an excuse to hand off the responsibility and opportunity of ministry to my Eastern counterparts. “They can do it better,” I rationalized, “They know the culture and the language, so they are best equipped to minister to other Asians.” I began to feel almost ashamed of my Western upbringing and culture. I was ashamed that I didn’t experientially understand poverty, that I had never been in desperate physical need before. I was shy about the blessings God had provided for me in America, and I bought into the lie that America was not as special to God as the 10/40 window in Asia. I tried to hide my own American-ness, feeling guilty that God chose me to be raised in a wealthy, developed country while my dear friends were raised in another culture with less resources and freedom.

Yet in this time, God taught me that while our cultures and traditions may differ, our hearts deep down were all created in the image of God, and thus carry deep and important similarities. As I listened to various testimonies, I realized that I related deeply to the emotions of my friends. While exterior circumstances may have differed, our heart responses were the same. I specifically remember listening to one of my dear Nepali sister’s testimony and sitting in humble shock because our stories were so similar. It was a story of striving for perfection, of wanting to please everyone around her, of trying desperately to be enough for God, for her family, for her community. It was a story of finding freedom in God, and learning what it looks like to have a deep and intimate relationship with Him. This girl didn’t even speak my language, and yet our heart experiences were profoundly similar.

I remember another time, sitting in a hut deep in the Himalayan mountain ranges, watching the older woman across from me casually rolling weed into a piece of paper, doing her best to escape from the hopelessness of her life without Jesus. The familiar smell reminded me of the countless times in America I have passed by people of my own race going to the same drug for temporary comfort and pleasure.

Again, I heard story after story of people turning to the same worldly pleasures as those in the West—turning to money, sex, power, education for fulfillment. These god-substitutes are universal, I realized. We are not as different as I initially thought. For me, there was a great deal of freedom in this realization. I did not need to go anywhere special or far away to find the lost. In Luke 10:2, Jesus says, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest.” Initially, I always envisioned this field that Jesus speaks of, as a field only in the East. Sure, there may be a few grains in the West that need to be cultivated and harvested, but the majority of the harvest was on the other side of the globe. Now, I am realizing that the field is much larger than I initially thought. Our hearts are the same, and we are all in desperate need of a Savior.