In April 30, 1975, I escaped Vietnam from the roof of the U.S. Embassy aboard
a helicopter. Hours later, the country of my birth and boyhood, the land where
I served as a missionary, fell to the communists.
Three weeks earlier my wife, Donna, and I had flown by Pan Am jet to the safety
of the Philippines. But then I learned that more than 500 of my Vietnamese friends
and coworkers faced almost certain death or imprisonment. I felt compelled to
return to Vietnam to seek an escape route for them.
By then, all commercial flights into Vietnam had ceased, and no civilian was
allowed aboard the military aircraft going in. It took a cable from the White
House to the commanding general at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines to
get me on my way.
Enemy troops already surrounded the Saigon airport. To avoid anti-aircraft
fire, our lumbering C-130 cargo plane was forced to descend to the runway in
a tight corkscrew. Two hours later, communist artillery and mortars destroyed
the airport, effectively closing that major door into and out of the country.
Once off the plane, I made my way as quickly as possible to the U.S. Embassy.
My mission: to beg the vice-ambassador to help my 500-plus Vietnamese friends
escape.
The vice-ambassador was sympathetic. But by then the airfield was in ruins.
That meant the U.S. government was limited to the use of small helicopters able
to land on rooftops or parking lots. The odds of adding 500 more people to the
long list of those already scheduled for evacuation were not encouraging.
I knew I would find my friends gathered at the International Protestant Church
not far from the embassy. I hurried over there to meet with them. I told them
the prospects were not good, but I promised to do everything possible to find
a way out for them. Already, sporadic machine gun and small arms fire was spraying
the streets. As I returned to the embassy, I saw that Marines had barricaded
the embassy street with barbed wire. Gingerly I made my way through the barricade
and dashed to the embassy. The gates were locked! An unarmed Vietnamese guard
who had not left his post of duty helped me climb over the wall to safety.
For the next 30 hours, frantic mobs surrounded the embassy. United States Marines
held them off at gunpoint, allowing only those with proper documents to enter.
Since I knew Vietnamese, I volunteered as an interpreter. I also helped organize
the 2,000 evacuees inside the embassy who had gathered to board the 50 helicopters
shuttling between the embassy and a ship in the harbor.
Finally, at 1:00 a.m., April 30, as enemy invaders pressed ever closer to the
heart of Saigon, the embassy doctor came out to me in the courtyard.
“Tom,” he said, “you’ve gotta board the next chopper. The ambassador will be
on the one that follows. Tell your friends at the church that there’s a ship
at the docks that will take them to safety. But they’ll have to hurry!”
There was still hope for my 500 Vietnamese friends! Not by helicopter but by
ship! Quickly I telephoned to the church to tell the gathered group this good
news—this way of escape. “But you’ll have to hurry!” I added with urgency. Then
I took an elevator up six floors to the embassy roof and joined the group still
waiting for evacuation.
As the heavily loaded helicopter skimmed the treetops just beneath us, I wondered
if a communist machine gun would blast us out of the sky. Moments later, however,
we were safely down on the deck of the S.S. Vancouver.
Why Missions?
Often since then, I’ve been asked, “Tom, whatever motivated you to risk your
life like that?”
I can only reply, “They were my friends. Their lives were at stake. I was concerned.”
That answer is appropriate to another question: “Why missions?” People continue
to ask, “Why should I involve myself in world missions?”
The fact is, people’s lives are at stake. Not their physical, earthly lives
(though missionaries frequently can render temporal help as well). Why missions?
Because people’s spiritual, eternal lives are at stake. People are lost! And
without the Savior, Jesus Christ, they will be lost forever, throughout all
of eternity.
Luke 15 is one of the great missionary chapters of the Bible. It’s a record
of three stories Jesus told: the story of a lost sheep, the story of a lost
coin and the story of a lost son. Each object was valuable to the person involved.
Each needed to be found.
Luke informs us that Jesus told the stories in response to comments by the
Pharisees and the teachers of the law. These Jewish leaders “muttered,” ‘This
man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’” But Jesus had more than Pharisees
and teachers of the law in mind. A little later Jesus would say of Himself,
“The Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost” (Luke 19:10). And still
later He declared to His followers: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending
you” (John 20:21). We hardly can escape the conclusion that God wants His church
to seek and to save a lost world.
A Lost People
Note that Jesus was surrounded by a large crowd of people. “Now the tax collectors
and ‘sinners’ were all gathering around to hear him” (Luke 15:1). In His day,
they were not exactly socially desirable. We would consider them the irreligious.
They were the spiritually confused, the morally bankrupt.
And off to one side was the small huddle of Pharisees and teachers of the law-observers.
They were commenting among themselves that this Teacher, who called Himself
God’s Son, was befriending sinners.
Jesus, able to read their very thoughts, launched out on these three back-to-back
stories. It was as though He was saying to the Jewish religious leaders (and
to us today), “I’m going to clear up this matter once and for all. I never want
there to be any more confusion on this issue. Lost people are important to Me
and to My Father.”
God continues to regard humankind as the crowning wonder of His creation! We
really matter to God. In fact, we matter so much that He became one of us in
order to redeem us. And He is pleased to live in the hearts of us whom He has
redeemed.
World missions was born in the heart of a God who loves people. The shepherd
had affection for his lost sheep. The woman prized her lost coin—possibly part
of her wedding dowry. The father loved his lost son. So God loves people who
are lost—lost in trespasses and sin.
Let people come to really understand that a person apart from Christ the Savior
is eternally lost. Let them truly understand this and their hearts will melt.
World missions will come alive.
World missions never gripped my heart until I came to understand the meaning
of Jesus’ amazing claim. He said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). Did you see it? “No
one.” Jesus is the only Way. Millard Erickson states it very succinctly:
1. All humans are sinners, by nature and by choice, and are therefore guilty
and under divine condemnation.
2. Salvation is only through Christ and His atoning work.
3. Belief is necessary to obtain the salvation achieved by Christ. Therefore,
Christians and the church have a responsibility to tell unbelievers the good
news about Jesus Christ.
4. Adherents of other religions, no matter how sincere their belief or how
intense their religious activity, are spiritually lost apart from Christ.
5. Physical death brings to an end the opportunity to exercise saving faith
and accept Jesus Christ. The decisions made in this life are irrevocably fixed
at death.
6. At the great final judgment, all humans will be separated on the basis of
their relationship to Christ during this life. Those who have believed in Him
will spend eternity in heaven, everlasting joy and reward in God’s presence.
Those who have not accepted Him will experience hell, a place of unending suffering,
where they will be eternally separated from God.
The Red Bobo tribesman in West Africa who prostrates himself toward Mecca and
pleads to Allah for mercy is lost! The Hindu in India who religiously, faithfully,
hugs to his breast his wooden god is lost. The devout grandmother in Peru, fingering
her rosary, if she doesn’t know Christ as her Savior, is lost. The ancestor-worshiper
in Vietnam who reverently places fruit and flowers on the family altar is lost!
Peter was convinced there was no alternate way of salvation. Of Jesus, he said,
“Salvation is found in noone else” (Acts 4:12). He added, “There is no other
name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” Paul concurred. He
said, “Noone can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is
Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). People separated from God by sin who’ve
never trusted Christ—or, worse, have never heard of Him—are lost!
This lostness was indelibly impressed upon me during my first term as a missionary
to Vietnam. One day I followed a pagan funeral procession to the cemetery. At
the house, neighbors of the family helped lower the body into a crude casket.
They added sand to serve as a seal against odor, then nailed the lid on tightly.
Some 20 men lifted the casket onto bamboo poles, which they hoisted to their
shoulders. As the procession left for the cemetery, flutists and drummers led
the way down the village path. The family, dressed in white with rags tied to
their hair, followed behind the coffin, hands gripping the end of the casket.
The entire procession marched to a deafening drumbeat and the screech of flutes.
Women wailed. Children cried.
At the cemetery, the casket was lowered gradually into the ground. The drums
beat louder and the pitch of the flutes rose. Mourners pounded their breasts
and wept more pitifully than before.
I cannot forget that hopeless scene. It was as though the demons of hell were
stomping on the casket, crying, “Down, down, down to hell, piteous soul!” As
I went to bed that night, I kept hearing in my mind the drum beat and the cries.
Worse, I kept imagining the torment of the one who had died in his lostness.
Had he and his family had opportunity to hear of Jesus Christ? Had any Christian
made an effort to share with him the good news of Jesus?
That brings me to the second thread in Jesus’ narratives:
A Loving Search
In Jesus’stories it is evident that the lost sheep, coin and son mattered very
much to the shepherd, the woman and the father. The shepherd went in search
of his sheep. The woman stopped all else to look for her coin. The father, wisely
knowing that his wayward son must himself resolve to return home, nevertheless
gazed longingly in hopes he would come.
Jesus was saying to the Pharisees and teachers of the law that those with whom
He was associating mattered to God. They mattered so much that He-Jesus-was
making every effort to “find” them. Jesus wants us to see, too, how much He
cared. He wants every one of us to join hands with Him in an all-out search
for lost people wherever they are!
Dieu-Huynh, a Vietnamese pastor-evangelist, invited me to help him evangelize
the first Stieng villages.
“But Dieu-Huynh,” I countered, “I don’t speak your tribal language. What help
can I be?”
The young preacher waved off my hesitancy. “That’s no problem,” he assured
me. “You preach in Vietnamese, and I’ll interpret into Stieng.”
It was an invitation I could not refuse. And now I was fulfilling it. As the
vehicle groaned over the crest of a particularly steep hill, I spied in the
distance the first village. Smoke was rising from each of the longhouses built
on stilts to protect from mosquitoes and tigers.
The sound of our approaching jeep attracted a crowd of bare-breasted women
and naked children, soon joined by G-stringed men. Some snickered at their first
sight of a white man. Others looked on in wide-eyed wonder. By the time we had
set up our battery-operated public address system, some 200 villagers had gathered
under the shade trees in the center of the village.
Dieu-Huynh greeted the people in their own language. I could not understand
what he was saying, but clearly he had the attention of the villagers. I assumed
he was introducing me, for he ended his comments by handing the microphone to
me.
At last, my dream of pioneering an evangelistic thrust into one of the world’s
remaining unreached tribes had come true. I could hardly believe it! The message
I had prepared seemed suddenly inadequate. How should I begin? What could I
say to people who had never even once heard the beautiful name of Jesus Christ,
my Savior?
I kept the message simple enough for a five-year-old to grasp. Sentence by
sentence, Dieu-Huynh interpreted for me. The people seemed to understand. I
could tell by the look on their faces. But had I said enough? What kind of response
should I expect? Should I invite them to trust in my Savior?
Unsure what to do, I said falteringly, “If you would like to receive God’s
Son as your Savior, please stand.” To my surprise, all my listeners, to a person,
rose to their feet!
“Dieu-Huynh,” I said, “I’m afraid they don’t understand. Have them sit down
again while we clarify for them what is involved in such a commitment.”
Then, for the second time, I extended the invitation. Again, everyone stood.
Puzzled, I asked Dieu-Huynh to explain the gospel further and to pray with them
in small groups.
In the next village, I preached the same message. No one responded. The people
were not yet ready to give up their ancient animistic ways. Likewise, in the
third village, people were not yet ready to follow Christ.
The sun at high noon was very warm when we reached the fourth site. So the
villagers invited us into their makeshift palver house. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder
on the mud floor, knees tight under their chins, the backs of one row up against
the knees of the next.
The bearded, balding village chief sat in the very center of the crowd. In
the intense heat, I could see the perspiration pouring from his body. But neither
the heat nor the press of people seemed to matter. Everyone was intent on what
I had to say. It was the first time they had heard such good news. Their excitement
was undeniable.
As I extended an invitation to these Montagnards to put their faith in Jesus
Christ, the unexpected happened. The chief, who served as spokesman for the
village, stood up. He shook his fists in the air, at the same time shouting
something at the top of his lungs. The villagers responded in like fashion.
“What are they shouting?” I asked Dieu-Huynh.
He explained. “You asked, ‘Who wants to trust Jesus Christ as Savior?’ And
they are shouting, ‘We do! We do!’”
Never before or since have I witnessed such an enthusiastic response to the
gospel. And to think this was happening in the mountain jungles of Vietnam in
a village that had never before heard of Jesus! Despite the heat, chills coursed
from the top of my head to the very ends of my toes. It had to be the most thrilling
day of my life!
Sometime in eternity, I believe I will look back through the corridors of time
to that day and say to God, “Thank You for such a privilege!”
Seeking the Lost is Costly
It costs to seek the lost. My sister, Harriette, and her husband, George Irwin,
spent 28 years in the highlands of Vietnam searching for spiritually lost tribespeople.
It meant mastering three difficult languages: French, Vietnamese and Koho. It
meant driving over incredibly rough, dangerous roads in tiger-infested jungle
mountains. It called for long, uncomfortable hours sitting cross-legged on mats
in smoke-filled longhouses. It included extended separations from loved ones
back home, from children at boarding school and sometimes from each other.
Donna and I, working in the lowlands of Vietnam among the Vietnamese population,
also found the search costly. Our first 18 months we had only bicycles for our
travel. Imagine bicycling at midday in Florida in August! And the villages to
which we went were often distant. Sometimes we were forced to wade through chest-deep
rivers. Sometimes we slept beneath a coconut tree on army cots under mosquito
nets.
Then there was the illness. At least twice I was near death with malaria.
All of my first term, I had painful boils. One day Donna accidentally pricked
her thumb as she was changing the baby’s diaper. The next day her thumb was
swollen from infection. By the third day, the French doctor, to prevent life-threatening
gangrene, had to remove the tip of her thumb bone.
Later there was the constant danger of Viet-cong rockets, of mined roads, of
sniper fire and guerrilla attack...
Yes, there is cost to searching for lost people. Is it worth the cost? I think
you know the answer. It will be evident as we follow the third thread running
through Jesus’ three stories in Luke 15.
A Lavish Celebration
When an object of great value is lost—a sheep, a coin or a son—there is great
sorrow. But when at last that object is found, there is great rejoicing! The
greater the value, the more lavish the celebration.
The shepherd finds his wandering sheep and throws a party. The woman finds
her lost coin and gathers her friends and neighbors for a time of rejoicing.
The father welcomes home his wayward son and calls for “the best robe” and a
ring for his boy’s finger, sandals for his feet and the fattened calf. The happy
father made sure there was a proper celebration to mark his son’s repentance
and return!
Did you know there was a celebration when you trusted Christ as your Savior?
Rejoicing erupted in heaven! Jesus said, “I tell you, there is rejoicing in
the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10).
All heaven broke into praise as your name was written in the Lamb’s book of
life. That’s because you matter so much to God.
Why missions? Because it’s one of the most rewarding and fulfilling vocations
on earth! As Dani tribespeople in Irian Jaya, Indonesia, lost Bobo tribespeople
in Mali, West Africa, lost Auca tribespeople in Ecuador, lost Hmong in Laos,
lost Cantonese in Hong Kong, lost Hispanics in Miami repent and turn to Christ,
those who have reached them with the good news join the angels of heaven in
lavish celebration!
Thus far we have followed three threads in Jesus’ stories in Luke 15: a lost
people, a loving search and a lavish celebration. There is one more important
thread we must not overlook. It appears in both the context of these stories
and in the conclusion to the story of the prodigal. The best word I can find
to describe this thread is lethargy. Luke 15 is a warning to you and me lest
we become part of . . .
A Lethargic Church
That Israel’s spiritual leaders were lethargic is evident from their disapproving
comment about Jesus: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2).
We find that same unconcern in the petulant actions and words of the prodigal’s
older brother. Note how Jesus described the older brother’s response to the
lavish celebration that followed the prodigal’s return:
Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he
heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what
was going on. “Your brother has come,” he replied, “and your father has killed
the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.”
The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out
and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, “Look! All these years I’ve
been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me
even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of
yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill
the fattened calf for him!”
“My son,” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is
yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was
dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” (15:25-32)
Jesus does not say what response the older brother made to his father’s plea.
Could He have left the story open-ended in hopes of a favorable response from
the Pharisees and teachers of the law? Was He hoping for a favorable response
from you? The older brother had two options: he could join the party, or He
could be a party pooper. And those are the options open to us.
Millions of those yet to be reached are identified with distinct blocs of people:
Muslims, Hindus, Buddhist, animists. The difficulty of access may not be geographic
so much as political, social, religious, cultural and linguistic. Add to these
the accessible but unreached. If Jesus is the Way and the only Way, all these
unreached are lost unless they put their faith in Jesus Christ. But “how can
they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without
someone preaching to them?” (Romans 10:14).
What is your attitude toward these who are lost, whether in other lands or
at home? As a believer, is your heart broken by their lostness? Do you pray
for them with tears? Do you give until it hurts that they may hear the gospel?
Are you prepared, if God should call, to go to them with the message of hope?
What are you doing to accelerate missionary advance into countries or areas
where lost people wait to be found? Are you involving your family? your church?
Is the church where you worship zealous for the lost? Or are the members lethargic
and lukewarm?
Missions—missions by the Book—involves searching for, finding and saving lost
people of every culture and on every continent. Dying people must find Christ,
the Life! People groping in pagan darkness must see Him who alone is the Light.
Lost people, whatever the cost, must be found.
I left the U.S. Embassy in Saigon on the third-from-last chopper out of that
stricken city. My last act before leaving had been to contact my 500 Vietnamese
friends waiting at the Church. I relayed the good news that a ship still at
the docks could take them all to safety—if they hurried.
A few weeks later, on Guam, I met the Vothanh Thoi family, who had been at
the church. They told me that as soon as they heard of the rescue ship, they
jumped into their Volkswagen. They sped across town to the port and boarded
the ship to safety.
“But what about the hundreds who were waiting with you?” I asked.
“Oh, they didn’t believe they could reach the ship. They decided to wait for
a helicopter.”
My heart ached. “They didn’t believe.” I had risked my life to provide them
an escape route. For want of faith, they had failed to take advantage of it.
In the ensuing communist takeover, some of them died, some were imprisoned;
all suffered under the heavy hand of the new regime.
Let me ask you to do something that may open a whole new chapter in your life.
Get down on your knees with your Bible open to Luke 15. Then ask God to speak
to you by His Spirit. Let Him speak not just about the Why? of missions but
about the How? of your personal involvement. For He does want you to be involved!
(Adapted by permission from Missions By The Book by Tom Stebbins.)
