It’s late afternoon when my team rolls up to the church in a remote village in India. As I hop out of the van, I glance over to the decently-sized, glowing, white building just a few feet away. I’m told it’s a Sikh Temple whose devotees have been, let’s just say, less than friendly to the local Christian Church congregation.
The wall next to the church is partially destroyed. The farmers who own the field beside it claim that it was “rain water” or “an accident” that damaged it. Multiple times. But because it’s a Christian Church, local authorities haven’t sought out the perpetrators. The congregation is miniscule by American standards and mostly made up of women and girls. Many of them have little to no power or authority in the community.
The pastor has been working in the area for over thirty years, and, despite others advising that he should leave, he insists on holding his ground. But standing in that small space, in the shadow of a hostile nation, it is hard to look at this small group of people and see victory.
The Kingdom of God feels weak.
Working at IDES, I have become even more acutely aware of the brokenness of the world, the depravity of mankind, and the way that people will take advantage of the hurt, the broken, and the vulnerable. The corruption that seeps into every corner of society. The tidal wave of evil that good men seem powerless against.
The Kingdom of God feels small.
As a young adult, I’ve watched too many friends leaving the church – kids who I went to Sunday School with, peers who volunteered with church events, and friends who I dreamed about maybe becoming missionaries with one day. As a theater director and filmmaker, each year I see movies and musicals come out that are more focused on telling lies than creating beauty. Each year I watch professionals in my field produce stories that are seething with disdain for Christianity specifically.
The Kingdom of God feels forgotten.
BUT, the Kingdom of God (fortunately) is not defined by what I feel about it. And the God of the universe does not shape history to match my perceptions. Too often I forget that He has always worked through unexpected and unconventional ways, using the weak, the outcasts, the barren, the ugly, the broken, and the sinful to accomplish his will. Too often I forget that the Jews expected a king to ride in and save the world, but God sent a baby to Bethlehem instead.
The Kingdom of God may be quiet, but the Kingdom of God is alive.
I see it in a quietly thriving community of Christian artists, songwriters, and yes, filmmakers who are rapidly gaining traction and working to change the industry. They may not be making front headlines, but they DO exist. And the closer I have looked, the more I have found an army of artists who are determined to bring truth and beauty back into the arts.
The Kingdom of God is growing.
I see it in the churches in South Sudan, India, Pakistan, and other places so hostile that I can’t even write the country names, but whose congregations are growing every day. I see it in our partners, like one who partway through filming an interview, casually pulls up his sleeves to show the scars from where people attacked him for his faith, but who still speaks of his Savior with a smile on his face. I see it in IDES reports – in broken English that overflows with praise for God’s faithfulness, and in pixelated photos and blurry Whatsapp videos of families fed, children healed, and people baptized.
The Kingdom of God is strong.
I see it in YOU, the IDES supporters who have such passion for ministry and give so freely – both your time and your money – just because you want to help people and be the hands and feet of Jesus.
And I saw it in that tiny, crumbling church in India. Because there, in the midst of incredible persecution and hostility, I got to meet that congregation of brave women. Despite the language barrier, there was an instant connection– something that just clicked– a recognition of a shared heavenly citizenship.
As my team spoke and then prayed with them, I watched their faces. This congregation, by all calculations, shouldn’t be surviving. But here they were, full of joy, full of hope, and THRIVING in circumstances that the world would certainly call hopeless. And it sure looked like victory to me.
“God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise;
God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.”
1 Corinthians 1:27, NIV
~Faith Marsh (IDES Media Specialist)