This young Telugu boy whom I knew nothing of his details taught me a lesson, indeed a very good one, which makes me reflect what it takes to be a missionary. All I knew about him was that he is a school boy as is evident from the school uniform he wore. Since I moved to Visakhapatnam to teach at Master’s College of Theology I’ve met this boy just twice so far on my way to college. We never exchange words. I believe he knew nothing about me except for the fact that I had this oriental looks. This oriental looks that I wear is the beginning of the lesson he taught me.
I stayed in an apartment close to our college. Because of the distance I never bother to catch autorickshaw, the most common means of transportation here, which is always packed with students of Chaitanya College of Engineering. Moreover, I am convinced that walking gives me good exercise and helps me reduce weight which I recently put on enormously. It thus becomes my daily routine to walk to college hoping to become healthier and once again developed an athletic body which I had lost since my theological studies.
One day, as usual, I was on my way to college walking under the scorching Vizag sun. From a distance I saw this Telugu boy approaching towards me in his bicycle. As he drew closer I notice signs of contentment and merriment in him as he is humming what I presumed to be Telugu song. I tell myself “This is what make life meaningful, to be self-contented.” He came closer and I can hear the humming louder. As he was about to ran past me, to my utter surprise, he make faces at me and utter some words which I believe is his own composition of Chinese language. Maybe he thought I am a Chinese. This immediately swept away my previous thought replaced by hatred and anger. I find it so humiliating that a boy of his age would do such a thing to me. Fortunately, I would say, I could control my anger and started to turn my thought to how many people in India are unfamiliar with the people of India. If speaking in Hindi is to be considered one of the criteria of being an India, I tell myself I would be more Indian than many of the people living in Vizag for they cannot speak even a single word in Hindi. I also strongly feel that they should brush up their knowledge in Indian Geography. As I was so occupied with these thoughts I did not realize I was coming to our college gate until I hear the usual “good morning sir” greetings from our gatekeeper. This is my first meeting with the boy.
The second meeting, like the first one, was also on the road to our college. This time it happened closer to our college campus. Like the first, he was on his bicycle. This time, too, I saw him from a distance. I was sincerely hoping that nothing of the sort that happened in our first meeting would happen this time. But I was wrong. He did the same thing. This time I was more enraged as he makes faces at me not once but twice combined with the irritating “bah…bah…bah” sound. I immediately turned to chase him. On seeing me he sped up. Had I not given up the thought to chase him down I would definitely caught up with him and give him a slap or two in his face. As a person easily infuriated by such attitude I was surprised not to lay my hand on him, not even shouting swearing words from a distance. Maybe I have grown up and become mature.
These two meetings with this Telugu boy made me reflect on the life and ministry of the faithfuls who had gone ahead of us. It made me realize how thorny their paths would have been in the mission they undertook to make the Gospel reach every nook and corner of the world. It also made me realize how hard and difficult it is for an imperfect being like me to be a missionary. Being in the field is not easy as one might suppose. There are new challenges coming up almost every day. You cannot be your old-self. You have to change: change to change others. If I cannot do this I will be failing God. It made me realize how weak and unworthy I am to participate in the mission of God. I am weak because I find it desperately difficult to change my temper. I am unworthy because I have nothing good in me that others may learn. He also taught me how difficult it is to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. I need to love this scoffer or else I will disobey Jesus’ teachings. I also learn that God teaches us a lesson not in our way but in his own way. What I, in the beginning, thought humiliating has turned out to be a source of learning what it takes to be a part of God’s mission.
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