The afternoon of Friday, July 6 was one of those “I’ll always remember where I was” moments. I can think of one exception but I’m not sure if any of those are ever good memories. Because it’s usually an unexpected tragedy. On that day, my dad called to tell me that Lora Smith, the wife of one of my oldest friends Ryan, had died and that he and their and four-year old son, Caleb, were missing. As many of you know, we found out in the next few days that not only had all three passed away, but they had been killed in a manner that seemed to only happen in the movies or in the news to people we don’t know. Digesting this news was extremely difficult. I had known Ryan for 30 years, growing up with him and his twin brother Chad at New Hope Church. Their parents, Byron and Lin, are close family friends who have served at New Hope in various capacities and been helpful guides over the past 8 years since we began working in Ethiopia.
When we were young, Ryan, Chad and I spent hours at the beach, and many nights hanging out with a large group of close friends from our high school. Ironically, it was our time away at college that drew both of us into a real relationship with God. As we both began to follow Christ intently, we found ourselves sharing a similar passion for God’s purpose around the world that would be the primary topic of discussion when we saw each other every few months. We both went on to pursue God’s direction in our lives with our families and would catch up a bit when Ryan was in San Diego. We’ve had friends follow God to some dangerous places, where life was at risk because of religious persecution or political instability. Ryan and Lora lived a challenging life but in a relatively modern, pro-Western and pluralistic country. So when Ryan and I spent a few hours together last February, it didn’t occur in the least that this would be our final earthly conversation. We had lunch and walked around a local mall comparing recent challenges and victories of working among aspiring, yet poor communities outside of the U.S. It was the longest time we’d spent together and the most in depth conversation we’d had in years. We left planning to surf later that week but couldn’t line our schedules up before he departed San Diego. We’d have to try again when he was back in town. Now, I know it was goodbye.
The news of the Smith deaths is still shocking. Their family has shown uncommon grace throughout the ordeal but one can only imagine their suffocating pain and wonder how a mother, father, sister, or brother goes on. The week following the news of their death, Dane, Roman, and I headed out on a long-awaited fishing excursion to Mammoth with my dad. Dane had dreamed of this trip for years and begged Papa Joe to bring him to the ‘promised land’. We had three fantastic days traversing the streams that flow in and out of the majestic lakes of the Eastern Sierras. Dane took no moment for granted and was always the last one to cast as we wrapped up our morning or evening fishing session. For him, it was a taste of heaven.
Many a young angler has cut their teeth on the shores of man-made lakes and collections of rain water runoff around San Diego County. But those are a paltry comparison to what is on offer in the waters of California’s renowned mountain range. So it was a father’s delight to see my son in his element, especially when the distance to this kind of fishing makes the opportunities rare. Yet as we walked the banks of Lee Vining creek early in the morning, I was struck with the juxtaposition of such sadness at home and the unbridled joy my boys were experiencing as they wrestled brown trout out of the sparkling waters.
Life’s jubilations and anguish filled my mind over the coming weeks as our kids enjoyed summer (mostly because mama Sara planned tons of fun activities for them) and our family anticipated another visit to the Sierra’s, in Bass Lake. These contrasts continued as we spent a week on the lake under the haze of smoke from the Ferguson Fire that shut down Yosemite National Park and burned nearly 97,000 acres. Joy and sorrow, beauty and destruction, life and death.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve been on a journey of renewal in understanding what God wants for people in this life. It’s an experience many others have shared as there are numerous books, conferences, and media connecting the Bible’s teaching to everyday life, relationships, politics, economics, community development and more. The most important teaching on this for me has come from Darrow Miller and his Discipling Nations: The Power of Truth to Transform Cultures. The book gives the clearest and most thorough explanation of God’s plan for humanity; from the individual all the way to the nations of the world. While much of this teaching has emphasized life on this earth, most, if not all, have made an effort to affirm the Biblical understanding of eternity and connect what God has planned for the present age, with the age to come.
The journey has been exciting as things like creation, vocation, and community now have fuller meaning and definition. Our work in Ethiopia has been shaped by these truths as we seek to understand how Jesus’ Good News addresses generational poverty and injustice, and leads to flourishing communities. The hope of eternal life and the sting of death removed by Jesus’ resurrection has been brought into balance with Jesus promise of abundant life here and now. (John 10:10)
Summers like this one though, bring eternity into focus. Because if the Bible is true, then no matter how much righteous abundance is experienced in this life, it is only a taste of what is to come in the next. The 40 some years the Smiths had, or the 65, or even 95 years of others is like a one grain of sand out of all the grains on all the beaches of the world compared with the eternal life that awaits. And in that life, we are promised the following:
“God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:3,4)
The grief of losing dear friends so unexpectedly, so early, and so heinously is softened by the amazing life they lived (I could write pages and pages, as many have, of the profound impact the Smiths had on others), but even more by the hope of a heaven they now are enjoying. The heavenly description above goes on to detail brilliant colors and endless beauty and satisfaction – a glorious promise for those who believe. The sacrifices they made and that we are all called to make as Jesus disciples would be in vain otherwise. “Let us eat, drink, for tomorrow we die.” (1 Corinthians 15:32)
All these musings about heaven actually began with my trip to Ethiopia in late June, before the Smiths’ tragedy and all the summer excitement. Ethiopia has undergone such dramatic change and I am constantly wondering whether our efforts to cultivate healthy families spiritually, socially, and economically will survive the whirlwind industrialization that is taking place. The new prime minister, Abiy Ahmed has valiantly begun to implement reforms that will hopefully bring opportunity and justice to the entire nation, not just a favored few. But the week before I left, an assassination attempt was made on Mr. Abiy during a large public rally in Addis Ababa. Opposing political forces are accused of instigating the attack.
Fortunately it seems this threat has been mitigated and the government continues its march towards a more free and democratic society. Even still, the fragility of the political situation reminded me that heaven matters because there is no perfect government here on earth. We have seen hundreds of families move towards wholeness through the vehicle of savings groups and our other programs. I was excited to discuss with our partners the prospect of expanding the savings group program to a new set of districts in 2019, starting 200 more groups in three new districts. And my hope rose even higher as I learned of hundreds of simple churches multiplying across the region. I rejoiced with our partners over the families that are getting right with God in Arsi Oromo villages because heaven awaits no matter the direction of Ethiopia’s future.
The kids started school last Wednesday, Sara a week before that, and the transition is over. Our summer adventures came and went so quickly. The joys were so great but so fleeting. The loss of friends made sadness the backdrop of our summer adventures. In the few moments of quiet reflection, the highest of highs and lowest of lows inspired a longing for heaven.
Keep Your Eye on the Rhodes 