Outreach Update from Reservation Six

Outreach Update from Reservation Six Print E-mail

"At five o'clock this morning, an 18-year-old young man from this village hung himself. He was the fifth suicide here in six weeks."

That's the news that greeted us as the On Eagles' Wings team arrived on our sixth reservation, the home of the firmly traditional "Andaro"* people. But if ever a place needed a Summer of Hope, this is it. Again, we've divided into two teams to enable us to reach the most possible people. The other team is with my son Brad, about four hours from here. They're traveling on the OEW bus; we're in five satellite vehicles.

As we entered the Andaro Reservation, we did what we always do - we prayed together for the land and people God has sent us to. But as our warriors began to get out of the van, I noticed that some of them were weeping, hugging, almost melting down. It was because of what they had seen as they drove in. Ceremonies were going on all through the heart of town. And religious leaders were parading through the streets, dressed in the likeness of the spirits they represent - the spirits they have worshipped for centuries. They are a terrifying presence for many. It's understood that you will never speak to one of these figures and never stand in their way.

The team members most affected by the ceremonies in their path are from tribes with similar spirit world figures. As I talked with them, I found a mix of some dark old memories and a broken heart for what they had seen. One said, "I saw the people in the middle of all this, and it was like I saw my father, my brothers, my family - and what used to be me."

We've been on many reservations where the centuries-old practices and beliefs are strong. But never in all these eighteen years of reservation ministry have I ever seen a place where the darkness is flaunted like this. In other tribes, they practice their religion more in private, where only the "believers" will be. But among the Andaro, it's in your face. It is an indicator of their intense commitment to keeping the hearts of the people where they have been for centuries. We became keenly aware of their opposition to Christ when the missionary who's been working with a few Andaro young people asked for help taking them home from our first outreach. "I have to take them home or they'll be beat up. Because they're Christians." They pay a price few of us have ever had to pay.

Our base among the Andaros was a church that has been there for 130 years - with a pastor who's been part of their lives for 20 years. The church has a great basketball court out back - where local guys play nearly every day - protected with a chain link fence. One of our female team members was warned by a woman who had been brutally raped a few months earlier that they needed to stay inside the church compound because of the danger of violence just beyond it. We were thankful that we had a safe haven from which to launch our Andaro spiritual rescue mission. Based on the "intel" from the youth leader and the historic hardness of the Andaros, I tried to prepare our team for the spiritual battle ahead. The youth leader had said, "We may have five, we may have fifty come out." I also tried to prepare the warriors for initially hard hearts, knowing that Andaro children are initiated into the religion at four and five years of age.

But God. Those two words in the Bible or in our lives are the ultimate game-changer. Everything we'd heard, everything we told the team was well-founded. But God...

First, 160 Andaro young people crowded onto that basketball court or hung out on all sides, just outside the fence. Secondly, when I asked at our first night debriefing how the people had been, one warrior after another talked about how ready and receptive they were. That has to be an act of God - "the Lord our God" who is "mighty to save" (Zephaniah 3:17 ). I believe prayers like yours have literally sent God ahead of us, changing "a heart of stone" into a "heart of flesh" (Ezekiel 36:26 ). Perhaps He even used the shock of five suicides in a row - including one that morning - to make people ready for Hope with a name - Jesus.

The first Hope Story the Andaros heard was from "Lance" (Ojibwe - Canada) who told the compelling story of losing three of his eight brothers to suicide. He talked about the alcohol and drugs that provided his temporary escape from the pain. And his own thoughts of ending his life as his brothers had. But then came the hope. With quiet passion, Lance told how he had brought his sin and pain to the Savior who loved him enough to die for him. And he gave powerful testimony to the peace, joy, purpose, and healing he had found only in Jesus Christ. Across the court, all along the sidelines and the nearby street, it was totally - even miraculously - silent. Later, another Hope Story and the Gospel wrap-up were received with similar attention and warm applause. By the time the last Andaro left that night, we knew that "God was in the house!"

We won't soon forget what the veteran pastor told us afterwards. He said, "The Gospel has been presented here many times and in many ways over the years. But every time, there is some major distraction. Not tonight. Something was different tonight. In twenty years, I have never seen this kind of peace here, this kind of total attention to what was being said about Jesus." He attributed it to the fact that the messengers were Native young people. That's part of it. The bigger part is that people like you across the country and around the world have been preparing the ground with your prayer - like the air cover goes into a battle before the ground troops move in. As we turned off our sound equipment, we could hear the drums and songs from the ceremonies. Only blocks apart, the clash of kingdoms.

As we prepared to go to battle the second night, we had scheduled two Hope Stories of warriors who come from strong traditional backgrounds. At game time, one was lying face up on his mat, leveled by a respiratory infection and fever. The other one - a young woman who'd been emotionally overwhelmed by the "spirit beings" she'd seen walking the street as she drove into town yesterday - was in the bathroom, suddenly throwing up over and over again.

God raised up our guy Hope Story just minutes before he was supposed to share. "Bobby" (Lakota Sioux/Apache) shared a powerful testimony of childhood abandonment and sexual abuse, of raising himself, of using and dealing drugs - and of growing up believing the much-believed lie that Jesus is a white man's God. So when he told about how Jesus had forgiven him, liberated him and healed him, he had the credentials to speak.

Even though our female Hope Story person was trying to do it in spite of her stomach issues, we moved her to the next night. When "Mandy" (Eskimo) took the mike, she seemed to also capture every heart around that court. Her story of healing and hope after being beaten and sexually abused was riveting. I expected to see a dove representing peace descend on the basketball court at any moment. And 22 Andaro young people were led to Christ before the night was over!

Night Three would be the decisive battle - because Andaro young people would be challenged to come to center court and publicly declare that they were beginning a relationship with Jesus Christ. It was our biggest night of the three. The basketball game between our players and their players - along with pizza - were tools that helped draw a great last-night turnout - so far beyond expectations. "Greg" (Nez Perce) passionately presented the Christ he'd once rejected because of his traditional upbringing. And he lifted up the cross - the ultimate love that drew him to Jesus. He asked people to pray with him if they wanted to follow Jesus Christ from now on. In the far corner stood three men who watched and listened the whole night with no comment or visible response. Later we learned who they were - three of the highest spiritual leaders of the Andaro religion. It was, to say the least, an intimidating atmosphere in which to publicly declare allegiance to Christ.

When Greg said during the invitation, "If you're going to come, come now," I cried out to God in the van where I'd been praying for the team all night. And waited for what seemed like the longest minute of my life. No one moved. And then it broke open. A young mother led the way with her baby in her arms. Then they started coming to center court - holy ground - from every direction. It was a stunning - possibly historic - moment on the Andaro Reservation. I can only describe it as the Andaro Miracle - because one-third of the people there came to Jesus Christ that night!

Again, these indomitable young warriors had seen Jesus win an unforgettable victory that displayed His glory to all. One Christian worker said, "There may have never been a night like this in all the 130 years this mission has been here!" All we knew was that Jesus had won big-time! It was a pretty emotional moment when the veteran pastor there reviewed the names of those who had made commitments. One after another, he'd tell the story of people who had opposed everything he stood for, of lives given up as hopeless by many - who were among the Andaros who'd been born into God's family that night!

In our debriefing, the pastor told us about "one Andaro who's probably dancing a jig in heaven tonight." James had been known as one of the most reprobate men of his generation on this reservation - until he dramatically surrendered to Jesus years ago. Years later, in his eighties and walking with difficulty, he went for a walk one night near the mission. Suddenly he encountered 16 of the spirit-masked leaders. Every Andaro knows that you never speak to one of them and you always get out of their way. One of them growled at James, "Get out of our way." At that moment, James did something he'd never thought of doing before. He straightened up and said to the fearsome men in front of him, "I am a son of the Most High God. You get out of my way!" And like the Red Sea parting, those 16 spirit-leaders moved aside for him to pass.

Because, as we had seen so vividly that miraculous night, the darkness must yield to Jesus.

* All names and locations changed for privacy and safety.

 
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