The true heroes of the faith are the ones without faces. They are the ones who don’t own a single pair of shoes but walk miles to proclaim the Gospel. They are the ones who have never written a book but have seen the dead raised to life and the oppressed set free. They are the ones who have never built a single church but have launch movements of reproducing indigenous churches. They are my heroes and they are my friends.
I often sit long hours with these shoeless men and women in thatched huts or wooden boats or motorbikes. I listen to their simple stories testifying of God’s faithfulness despite the persecution they face. I ask about their burdens and pray for their struggles. I lead them in a song of worship so easy that every language in the world can sing it. I lovingly keep them accountable by asking about their walk with Christ and their witness to lost people. I cast vision by giving them a scriptural, realistic and unforgettable image of the future. I open the Word by telling a biblical story that everyone can memorize and apply. I spend valuable time practicing the story with them so they are confident enough to pass it on. I hear out their plans for the next week and send them out with prayer.
-In this world they will never be treated with true justice. Just like the small Jewish baby born 2,000 years ago in a cave for livestock.
-In this world they will never be publically recognized. Just like the Jewish teacher who worked as a common carpenter from rural Nazareth.
-In this world they will never be fully understood. Just like the Son of God who was nailed to a Roman crucifix for claiming to be from heaven.
These are the men and women I look up to. They are the ones I want to emulate. They are some of the most important missional workers for the Kingdom of God in the 21st century. They are the nameless because they choose to make Christ visible and not themselves.