In a world bent on immediate gratification, the life of a missionary just doesn’t make sense. Why on earth would anyone give up the security of a job, the comforts of home, and the familiarity of friends, family, and culture to proclaim the gospel among another people in a different place?
The decision to give up a “normal” or “secure” life in exchange for one of missionary service seems brash, foolhardy, or thoughtless to many. In terms of worldly logic, it is. It’s like that reckless decision by a few fishermen some years ago when a former carpenter (whom some proclaimed to be the Messiah) beckoned them to drop their nets and leave the sea. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him” (Matthew 4:20). Careless. Hasty. Imprudent.
But is it really? Or is there something more? Might there be something we could, perhaps, call a “deeper logic” beneath those supposedly foolhardy decisions to leave behind a sure thing and risk all to obey the Carpenter’s call? While folly to the world, might the life of a missionary actually make sense?
Deeper Logic of Faith
A deep and profound logic, simple yet rich in its implications, undergirds the Christian faith. Set aside an earthly life — all that you might hope for and pursue in the interest of personal gain, fulfillment, and pleasure — in response to the call of the living God, and you will gain much more than you could hope for, both in the fleeting present and even more so in the eternal age to come (Mark 8:34–35; 10:29–30).
This logic is on full display in Hebrews 11. Writing to Christians who were considering a return to “safer” pastures, the author recounts the faith of patriarchs and poets and princes and prostitutes and prophets — men and women who by faith “conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight” (verses 33–34). They suffered significantly because they sought “a homeland” — “a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (verses 14, 16). They heeded God’s call. They forsook homes; they despised earthly wisdom and wealth; they faced hardship and heartache, hailing from afar “the things promised” them by God (verse 13).
Why risk so much? Assured that God, the one who made all things from nothing, keeps his promises — convinced that he whom we cannot see, the King of kings and Lord of lords, prepares for his people an eternal home in which righteousness dwells, a kingdom that cannot be shaken, a city that is to come — all those named and anonymous saints of old gladly obeyed their Lord’s command and faced significant suffering. They knew that all they could gain in the present age was mere dust and ashes in comparison to the reward he offered.
And so, recognizing that to which God in his grace called them, they obediently turned away from the assurance and visible benefit of their natural homelands — the rich lands of Mesopotamia, the wealthy palace of Pharaoh, the uncomplicated pastures in the hills of Bethlehem — to walk in hope through unknown lands. Dwelling among enemies, unsure of what the next steps might bring, they remained confident that the God who called them to a life of sojourning would accomplish his good purposes in and through them, and that he would finally bring them to the fatherland for which they truly longed.
Sure Promises
This same logic applies to the missionary call, which brings us back to where we started: Might following Christ’s call into a life of missionary service actually make sense?
When missionaries leave home — sent out by their local church to cross cultures, proclaim the gospel, and build up the church — they do so with tear-stained cheeks. Great loss accompanies missionary service. But that does not make the decision to go foolhardy. Laying aside the comforts of familiarity and embracing all the hardship of overseas life is, paradoxically, gain. No, that gain is not the worldly wager of measurable profits. Missionaries don’t chase such middling rewards. Instead, they embrace by faith the promise that God rewards his obedient and faithful servants with nothing less than eternal life in his presence.
In the bright light of the promises of God, the loss and hardship associated with missions appear, dare I say, paltry. It certainly doesn’t always feel that way in the midst of suffering. But when the eyes of faith look to the eternal city, when the ears of faith hear the song of the reigning King, when the heart of faith holds fast to what is promised, then saints, with feet of faith, boldly step into uncharted territory, counting their losses insignificant if they might pour out their lives in service to Christ. It is not a mistake to give up the fool’s gold of Egypt for the assured, pure wealth of eternity.
Missionary, your life does make sense. Yes, you will suffer. Yes, the tears are real. But the Carpenter’s promise remains sure. Don’t be afraid to leave the nets, for he who promises is faithful.
Desiring God