His Slave and Your Brother

Dear Friend:

Greetings in the name of our Lord whose we are and whom we serve! I am back after an amazing three week ministry in Orissa, India. I know that you had been praying for Lilly and I. Thank you for your prayers and support. God kept us safe and poured out His grace as we traveled from one village to another with His gospel.

How can I fully share the breakthroughs, my excitement and the great possibilities? I am limited by words. I also do not want to give away too many details since most of my communications are believed to be monitored by fanatics. I pray that the Holy Spirit will communicate what I cannot do.

IT ALL BEGAN
Well, it all began in 1981, when we went as a family to a primitive southern Orissa and lived in a very remote village in Orissa (click here to read more about this story). We lived in a grass hut made for Rs. 50, fetched water from the nearby stream, cooked food with wood collected from the nearby forest and used lamps for light. We would then travel from village to village, sharing the gospel to people and tribes who had NEVER heard the name of Jesus. It is estimated that as a result of those seeds more than 1000 churches were planted and several hundred indigenous leaders were trained among these once unreached peoples.

Well, earlier this year, as I recalled those small beginnings in Orissa I felt compelled to go back to another unreached region in Orissa and do it all over again.

DOING IT ALL OVER AGAIN
So, in November 2009, Lilly and I arrived in Orissa. A mud hut was built in a village for us to stay and use as our base for travel from village to village. However, due to serious concerns for our safety, we were asked by my co-workers to stay in the nearby town of Baripada. We soon found a one room house with a kitchen and a small toilet. We rented few chairs, bought some cooking utensils and settled down. I stacked up our two suitcases and it served as my office table. It was heaven for us, because our Lord was with us. We also purchased a motorbike (Rs. 45,000) to help us travel from village to village. In 1981, I remembered, we rode rickety bicycles. Thankfully, we also had access to a jeep borrowed from another region, to help our long distance travels and to carry our evangelistic tools—tents, portable PA system, gospel literature.

THE PASTOR’S SEMINAR
IET had already started work in this region some time ago. We began by gathering the 46 church planters in this region. Lilly and I ministered to them for two days. These church planters, facing persecution and loneliness in remote areas, have no other discipleship resources available. They soaked up the Word.

The third day onwards we began to travel from one village to another, from one tribe to another, with the gospel message. It was extremely dangerous but our lives are not ours. I felt a great excitement as I carried the gospel, along with my team of co-workers, from one people group to another.

A TYPICAL DAY
On a typical day, we would leave for a pre-selected village at 8:30 AM. Some of my co-workers would have left much earlier to set up a make shift tent at the village. No one in the village would be informed of our intentions. This was done to protect any planned attacks. A few hours before the meeting would start, the brothers and sisters who spoke the village language would go from house to house and invite people for to come and hear Good News. By 10:30 AM, our brothers and sisters would start to sing songs in the village language. The songs would be accompanied with indigenous musical instruments, lot of clapping and, at times, even some tribal dance. People, mostly curious, would come under the tent and find a place on the sheets spread on the ground. I would finally stand up to share.

I would explain the ‘message of salvation’ in very simple and clear terms through a translator. At the end we prayed for those who would be open to receive our Lord. The first session would end after noon, when those gathered would have a common meal—a heap of rice with little bit of watered down lentil soup. We would all sit on the floor and eat together.

Then we would get back under the tent. Lilly and I would preach again, teaching how a disciple of Jesus should live. It is critical to not only lay down the plan of salvation but also to teach on holiness. After all we are called not just to be born again but also to be His disciples. Each message would be translated into the state or tribal language. In every village we would end up with a group of people keenly interested to follow Jesus Christ. The IET leader for this region would then assign one of the church planters a group of villages. The church planter would follow up, to disciple the seekers and new believers in each village. The goal is to establish churches in each village and ultimately train indigenous pastors in the next few years.

WOULD YOU COME TO OUR VILLAGE?
Extremely tired, we would return to our one room house by evening, looking for a peaceful meal and some rest. However, by the time we reached the house we would find people waiting for us. They had heard about our message. And, they would ask my fellow IET workers, “Would you come to our village?” We could see the eagerness in their eyes. How could our comfort come in the way of His call? So, we would quickly finish our meal and drag out tired bodies to another village. Every evening we would speak to a new tribe or in a new village.

Every village we visited, we found villagers waiting for the ‘people with the book’. As soon as they saw our jeep lights, they would start to sing, welcoming us in their tribal way. Our feet would be washed with water, a tribal custom, and oil would be applied. Our eyes would always fill up with tears at this great love, at the open doors and at the privilege He has given us to be His gospel carriers. I would stand by the oil lamp, wave the bugs with one hand and preach from the Bible in other hand. The masses huddled on bare floor and on leaves would listen as I shared about our Lord and His love.

UNDER HIS WINGS
Orissa is one of the most dangerous places for Christians. Proselytization is prohibited by law. Every day several Christians are attacked and some even killed. Fanatic Hindus are being trained all over and fanatic groups have spread terror throughout Orissa. Refugees from the last mass-attack against Christians are still afraid to go back to their village. Most live in fear. So, we had to be very careful. No one knew of our plans. It was only a few hours before we started our meetings, that our brothers and sisters would go from house to house in that village and invite people for prayer. We went to so many villages; we held so many meetings in the open; we prayed with hundreds of people. It was amazing that the news of our activities did not leak out and no attack took place. In few places there were disturbances created by local hoodlums, but God soon brought those under control. God protected us and allowed us freedom to preach, even in such dangerous times. As I look back, I realize that it was also your faithful prayer that guaranteed our protection.

MANOHARPUR: WHERE GRAHAM STAINES WAS KILLED
We also decided to visit Manoharpur where the Australian missionary, Graham Staines, working among the lepers, was torched alive along with his two young sons. The few Christians in this region live under great fear. Many have even backslidden. I remembered the words of a pastor, “Only a continuing revival can keep a church on fire.” History shows us that Christianity will soon become a ritualistic religion or a dead faith if there is no continuing discipleship and revival. We all need ongoing individual and communal revival within us.

Manoharpur is a tiny tribal village with no electricity and few Christians. The Christians there told me the tragic story that happened on 22nd January 1999. My heart cried out for the unreached nations and for my fellow brothers and sisters who pay the price. As I stood there, I prayed that through this sacrifice the Church in Orissa will find great strength and eventually spread out wilder and stronger. I, also, remembered the words of Tertullian, the church father:
In A.D. 197, writing to the Roman governor of his province, who was persecuting the Christians loyal to the empire and its laws, Tertullian wrote, “…kill us, torture us, condemn us, grind us to dust; your injustice is the proof that we are innocent. Therefore God suffers (allows) that we thus suffer; for very lately, in condemning a Christian woman to the leno (prostitute) rather than to the leo (lion) you made confession that a taint on our purity is considered among us something more terrible than any punishment and any death. Nor does your cruelty, however exquisite, avail you; it is rather a temptation to us. The oftener we are mown down by you, the more in number we grow; the blood of Christians is seed.

About 100 Christians gathered in the small church building at Manoharpur. I encouraged them to continue to trust Him, live for our Lord, and be His witnesses. The next day was Sunday. We erected our tent in an open ground here and began to sing songs. About 300 people gathered, more than 100 of them were non-Christians. Many of us were afraid of possible attack. But, we continue to worship our Lord. Lilly and I preached. I encouraged and admonished the believers. At the end as we began to pray; several non-Christians came asking for prayer. One Hindu priest sitting at the back walked up to one of my co-workers and asked, “Do you think that he will pray for me?” I held his hands, hared about the love of our Lord and prayed for him.

As we finished up our time at Manoharpur, I was asked by a pastor to come back in January 2010. He informed me that they conduct convention every 21st to 24th January to mark the martyrdom of Graham Staines. The next convention would be conducted in a forest. He informed that they do not have money to pay my train fare, but he asked Lilly and I, “Would you come?” How could I refuse? I immediately cancelled all my plans to make arrangements to be in the forest with our fellow brothers and sisters. Plans are being made for over 2000 believers from various parts of Orissa to gather in this forest for four days. Many will walk long distance. Each believer will bring their share of rice to feed them during the four days here. Many will stay in temporary tents or in homes of other Christians in surrounding villages. I pray that God will use this time to heal, encourage, and revive. I need His grace and ask for your prayers. Would you pray, please?

FUTURE
We have experienced significant breakthroughs in many villages. IET church planters are already carrying out the follow-up work. The goal is to use the breakthroughs and establish healthy communities of faith within the next two years. I believe that with continuing support--training, tools, and finances--at least 100 new churches will be planted in this region within the next few years.

WHAT DO WE NEED
We need to build a ministry center here to train new church planters and to provide continuing training to the current ministry leaders in this region. This is a critical need. The need is to purchase a 2 acre land and build classrooms and dormitories to get the ministry center running. We have a trained and able church planting leader in place to run this center. Meanwhile, the immediate need is for some critical ministry tools to continue the follow up work. These include 1000 Bibles (Rs. 80 per copy), 5 motorcycles for the junior leaders (Rs. 45000 per bike) and one jeep (Rs. 450,000). Would you pray for these needs?

THANK YOU
I want to thank you for letting us be part of your lives and prayers. I have always believed that we are a team. Those who drive the jeeps, those who preach, those who prayerfully send and those who provide finances are co-equal members of this team. I am humbled that He would choose us to serve Him together.

Once again, thank you for your friendship and prayerful support. Please do continue to stand with us. Continue to pray for IET, particularly for the villages where visited during our recent Orissa stay.

Finally, I encourage you to stay faithful to Him and His call to fulfill the Great Commission, even to the uttermost parts of the world. May we give our all to reach the unreached.

His slave and your brother,

PG Vargis

Towards Orissa

I am on my way to Orissa for almost a 4 week stay there. We had planned to build a mud-thatched hut among remote tribes and travel from one village to another. But, due to security reasons I was asked to stay in a town. Lilly and I are on our way to stay in a town, which will serve as our base as we travel from one tribe to another sharing the gospel along with our native brothers. For security reasons I cannot put up any more details, but I ask for you to pray for us. Pray for three specific things: a) for the Gospel to bear fruit and communities of faith to be born among these unreached peoples, b) for resources we need to go and then send people in the long run, c) for protection. Trusting in Him and grateful for your partnership in prayer.

To read how this started, click here.

Updates: Travel, Preaching and Prayer

Lilly and I began our most recent preaching tour on the 12th September and will continue on this tour till the second week of October. We will then be in Punjab on October 17th, to minister to about 400 IET church planters from that region. I will then be going to M.P. and Bihar. I also plan to spend some time in the villages of Orissa before ending this year speaking for 18 days in Kerala.

I need His grace to be healthy, to be His messenger, to maintain my spiritual disciplines, and extra grace to be used as His vessel in leading people closer to our Lord.

Thank you for standing with me and trusting me to pray for you.

Compelled By His Love!

Greetings in the name of Jesus who said, “If any one wants to follow me, he must deny himself, pick up his cross, and follow me continually” (Matt. 16:24).

Let me share a story with you: Orissa is an extremely poor and backward state. However, in 1981 it was really primitive, unbelievably poor and highly unreached. The curse of poverty, particularly in southern and tribal Orissa, was very visible and common. Mothers were selling their youngest babies to buy rice in order to keep the older children alive. Tribes took refuge in spirit worship and witch-craft. Most women had only a small strip of clothes around their waist and nothing on top. Men went around in their loin clothes. Most children, even ten year old girls, would walk about naked. Roots and eggs of red ants were common food. Schools did not exist. Electricity was non-existent. The darkness—spiritual and literal—was abundant and widespread.

However, the love of God moved my heart and I fell in love with this land and the people.

In 1980 Indian Evangelical Team (IET) sent its first missionary, Brother D.N. Sahu, to Orissa. He suffered much and often had to go hungry. To encourage him I gathered my family in 1981 and decided to go and live in Orissa for two months. We traveled two days on a train and then took a bus for another fourteen hours—crowded with goats, chicken and sweating mass—to reach Brother D.N. Sahu’s village. We still had to travel further to reach the village, where we were going to live for the next two months.

After few days we hired a taxi—a bullock cart—to carry us and our goods from Brother Sahu’s house to our destination, the village of Chattahandee. The bullock cart took 8 hours to cover the 14 miles of dirt road and three river crossings. My ten year old son, Aby, and I would often get down and walk, to lighten t

he load for the bullocks and to entertain ourselves. Another brother, Das Bhai, went ahead of us on his bicycle.

On our way we passed through several villages. None of them had ever heard the name of Jesus. We made plans to visit each one of them sometime soon. On the way we stopped at seven different villages to drink water from the village well or a tribal home.

Finally we reached our village, Chattahandee. Many half naked and some completely naked tribes-people gawked at us. We were dressed funny to them, with shirts and sandals and trousers. “What kind of people are these?” they must have wondered. We finally were guided to our palace, a small mud thatched grass hut. The single room hut had no door, no windows and no bed. We slept on the dirt floor. Rats often scampered into the dark hut. Lilly cooked our food on one side. At night we would move the utensils and lie down on a mat put over the dirt floor. Often the air would start to suffocate, and I would join the other brothers sleeping outside under the tree. There was no post office, no electricity, no

toilets, no shops … as primitive as it could get. The only good thing was a flowing stream and hundreds of unreached villages all around.

We stayed here for the next six weeks. We would bathe in the stream, about a mile from our hut. We would haul water from this stream and Lilly would cook food with fire wood gathered from the wild. But, every day we would pick up our two bicycles and ride from one village to another. Two or three of us would somehow haul ourselves on each bicycle and also manage to tie our bags somewhere—a miracle now I think of it—and pedal mile after mile.

We would set ourselves up in the village square or in front of a friendly house. Ten year old Aby would take out his accordion and start to play. We would join in a song and people would gather. During the day we would then preach under the hot sun and in the evening we would again preach under the starry sky. If we were far from home, we would sleep on a straw mat under a tree or in the front yard of any hut that would have pity on us. We could then do it all over again the next day and the day after that and every single day. Whenever we could, we would come back to our family in Chattahandee.

After six weeks in Chattahandee we had covered scores of villages. Then, it was time to move to another region. We hired a taxi—another bullock cart—and reached another village. A family received us with great joy and let us sleep in their cow shed. The man of the house tied the cattle a little away and we found sufficient space to squeeze ourselves in the clearing in his cow shed. We slept and ate (on leaves) there for two weeks, and every evening we lit our oil lamps and sat on the dirt floor of the cow shed to pray. And, every evening the host would sit with us and listen to what we preached.

The smell of the cattle urine and dung was unbearable. And, the swarming mosquitoes feasting on our blood made every hot night more unbearable. But, we were happy. How could we not be? The joy of the Lord in our hearts was more than enough. And, now we had this opportunity to bring His good news to all these people for the first time. Hundreds heard the gospel, for the first time.

I preached two to five times daily. My sermons were short--just 15 minutes. But these simple people understood. They understood a leper coming to Jesus, praying to Jesus, worshiping Jesus, receiving healing from Jesus, and becoming a disciple of Jesus.

And the Lord worked miracles among them. I thought perhaps He loved them more than others. On some days, 97% of the people who came for healing were touched by God. For the first time in my life I saw two totally blind people healed on the same day.

Yet after two months we returned home thinking we had achieved nothing. No one made any serious decision to follow Christ and no one was baptized. But we all were invigorated with the enriching experiences.

However, our two months in Orissa was a tipping point for the brothers to work harder and to preach the gospel in village after village. The Book of Acts started to happen. As our friends all over the world prayed, God began to move in an unprecedented way.

In 2000 I was visiting the area in Orissa where we had lived and ministered in 1981. I was conducting a seminar for our church planters. On the last day I was taken to a village to dedicate a newly built prayer hall.

The white washed mud wall of the 20 by 40 foot hall looked majestic in the poverty-stricken area. I well knew that the building would fall in three to seven years from the heavy rains and would have to be rebuilt again. But we didn’t worry about that then; this was a time of rejoicing.

I stood there, amazed and moved at the gospel taking roots in this soil for the first time. Brother D.N. Sahu came up and asked me whether I recognized the village and the zigzag mud path we had come up to get there. “Should I?” I asked. Then he said, “We traveled this path in 1982. I walked with you and Aby (my son). Aunty Lilly and the kids were in the bullock cart. We stopped in this village to have a cup of black tea.”

His eyes shined as he continued, “On that day we stopped in seven places to have a cup of black tea or a glass of water from a house when we were thirsty. Wherever we stopped for a drink, today there is a church building and a strong assembly. Whichever house that gave us a glass of water now has a Christian preacher – a woman or a man.” D.N. informed me that, in fact, all of the villages we went to on our bicycles now had a healthy church. Every one of them! The man who gave his cattle shed for us to stay in was baptized along with his whole family within a few years and two of their boys now are in full-time ministry – one is a junior leader.

I sobbed! Joy indescribable!

Well, the seeds bore fruit and it still grows today. More than 1000 pioneer churches could be traced back to our 1981 visit to Orissa.

Recently I felt a tug in my heart to go back to Orissa and do it all over again. So, in obedience to His nudgings, Lilly and I have decided to go back to Orissa in November and do it all over again.

Orissa still continues to be poor and very backward. In addition, Orissa has also become one of the states with greatest persecution of Christians. However, our lives are His.

In November Lilly and I will go to a village and build a hut. We will then travel to villages around it, sharing the gospel wherever we are allowed to. During the day we will stand in the village square or under a tree and share the gospel. At night we will stand under the starry sky and proclaim the truth in His power. I hope that these seeds will one day bear seeds for His Kingdom.

I am asking you for four things:

1. Pray for us. We need God’s presence and His grace to present the truth in an intelligent way and with His power.

2. Pray for protection. Orissa is witnessing the worst persecution in the history of India. Several thousand Christian homes have been burnt in recent times. Every day Christian workers are attacked and several are killed. For us, “to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

3. We will need tools—a jeep, Bibles, P.A. system, and finances to build the mud hut. I also want to leave the missionaries there with sufficient tools to establish and further grow the fruits even after we leave. I anticipate the tools for our two weeks will require about Rs. 9,00,000. And, I estimate that we will need another Rs. 10,00,000 to purchase tools for our brothers to continue the work for the next two years (motorcycles, Bibles, bicycles, lamps, etc.). Would you pray for this, please?

This life is not ours. May we use our lives and all that we have for His Kingdom. My life belongs to Him, completely. Join with us through your prayers and support.

Shalom,

P G Vargis

P.S: My life story, Compelled, was written anew and published in the USA in March 2009. A gifted writer and friend, Dr. Jim Kerby, wrote this book well on my behalf. The first printing is sold out! The second print is in the process, however. This book is currently available only in North America. I would ask that you visit our website www.getmissions.org or www.ietmissions.org and order the book. I believe that the stories will move your heart and encourage you to walk closer to our Lord.

Faith of our Fathers

When we became missionaries, we were disinherited by our family. We had no money. We often had to go hungry. I have seen my oldest son faint several times because we did not have food to give him. My second child became mentally challenged because of hunger and our inability to meet her medical needs. It was difficult for me to go without food for days but it was much harder for me to see my children starving. It was hard for me to wear torn clothes as a missionary, but it was harder to watch my children shiver in cold winters. It was shameful for us when we were made fun of because of our faith, but it was much harder to see our children being treated as untouchables because of our decision to follow Jesus Christ. It was hard to live in fear of being raped or killed, but it was harder to see our children living through persecution and harassment. However, even during our hardest moments we always found strength in knowing that our God is faithful. In fact, one of the hymns I learnt much earlier in my Christian walk and was a tremendous source of strength to me was,
“Faith of our fathers, living still,
In spite of dungeon, fire and sword;
O how our hearts beat high with joy
Whenever we hear that glorious Word!
Faith of our fathers, holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death.”

He had called us to serve Him. We were and are committed to worship Him through obedience, even if that meant having to lay down our lives. Today, I want to encourage you to worship Him through obedience, total obedience.

Lilly Vargis

Content?

Another year will be added to my life in another ten days. I am often asked if I am a satisfied man. Satisfied? No! Content? Yes.

Several years ago I was leading a Holy Communion Service for about 1000 IET believers in one of the north-western states of India (Punjab). As is the tradition, at the end I said, “Lord, come soon.” All of a sudden I stopped and I said, “No Lord, if possible do not come soon. Wait so that we can bring many more into your light.” 25 years later and hundreds of thousands of salvations later, I am still not satisfied. I will never be satisfied until every unreached tribe and people have a healthy, growing church planting movement. I will never be satisfied until His body will experience a continuing, dynamic revival—within and without. I will never be satisfied until I hide myself fully behind the cross. But, content? Yes! At the end of the day I have to trust in Him who forms and guides us and history. I have to be content in His grace, in His sovereignty, and in His wisdom that holds time, history and future, in His hands. I rest in Him and subject myself to His grace to find contentment in Him and through Him.

Travels and My Next Blogs

Lilly and I greet you in the sweet name of our Savior Jesus Christ who said, "Go… Preach… Teach."

I am currently traveling in the US. I do not prefer to leave India. I believe, ‘soldiers should be in the battle field.’ However, one of our values should be relationships. I have some very dear and faithful friends in the west. So, I travel to the west once in about 3 years to meet with them, be strengthened in this friendship, and to encourage them by sharing what God is doing through IET because of their friendship. This is one of those visits.

It is a great time, meeting with my friends and that of IET. I am always moved by the love of these precious friends. And, I am excited at every new friend that God brings into my life each time. I want to value these relationships as sacred. Inspite of the difficult economic times, the churches and individuals have been kind. I have experienced great love and continuing suport. And, I have seen an increased intensity of prayer for IET and the unreached. It is a joy and a privilege to have faithful friends all over the world.

In the next few weeks I am going to share with you a recent impression I had from the Lord. It was a 'spiritual formation' event directed at me. But, I want to share that with you in my next few blogs. Thank you for your friendship and prayers. I value those.

Reality of Truth

ABC showed a debate on the existence of satan (more like a debate on the reality of truth). You will enjoy it. Watch it online at http://abcnews.go.com/nightline/faceoff

You may also enjoy reading my friend, Dr. Derek Vreeland's comments on this debate at http://derekvreeland.wordpress.com/

Picture in My Heart

There was shopping to do, and my wife, Lilly, and I had heard about a weekly market in a nearby village where people from the smaller surrounding villages converged to do their shopping. We were living in a small remote village in Orissa, away from electricity, running water, buses—from civilization, as we know it. Eager to look out for the needy and hurting, whenever and wherever we could, the weekly market was the best place to find such, in addition to getting the shopping done. So I gathered my family, and we walked to the market.

Teeming masses of people jostled us from every side. The sights, sounds, and smells overwhelmed our senses. Men carrying bows and arrows were trying to sell their hunt or harvest. Women, half naked, sitting on the ground with vegetable, earthen pots and even round, pale white ant eggs for sale. Men in loin clothes, women in half-saris, children with barely anything on them filled the tree shades in these dense woods. Sheep, goats, and various animals wandered aimlessly among the crowd, their bleating cries adding to the cacophony of this Indian summer day.

Clambering onto a large rock, I looked around to get my bearings. As I looked out at the throng, something caught my heart. I called to my wife and pulled her up beside me.

"Lilly, how many people do you see?" I asked.

"Who can count them all?" she answered rhetorically.

"Lilly," I pressed, "How many people are wearing anything on top?"

"I see only three," she responded.

The magnitude of such poverty overwhelmed me, and I silently wept bitter tears. The vast majority of the people scurrying below me conducted all of their social and business activities in nothing more than a loincloth. How can we empower such a large number?

As I surveyed the river of people below me, I spotted a young girl—a tribal, maybe twenty years old—sitting with a basket between her legs so that no one could snatch it. Her eyes were glazed over as if she were looking but not seeing.

Moved with compassion, I pointed out the girl to Lilly. Then I slid from the rock and turned to help Lilly down, explaining, "I want to take a picture of her."

As I made my way over to where the poor girl was sitting, it became increasingly clear that she had been horribly abused. There was no life in her eyes, just a dull, vacant stare. I could tell that she wasn't married because she didn't wear a nose ring, the sign of a married woman. Her demeanor made it obvious that she had been abused by many men. My local friends, who lived with me, confirmed it. As an Indian, I also knew that she did not give her body to them for pleasure but for money—not for herself, but for a younger brother or sister or perhaps for a sick mother. Deeply touched by her haunting stare, I silently wondered, How many more like her? How many millions are dying without help, without hearing the gospel, without hope? How long do they have to wait?

As I turned and walked away, I was overwhelmed with a deep burden and awareness of the great need for someone to help these precious people and their children be strong—obtain education, health care, sustainable farming technology, and, above all, be valued. How many others who simply existed from day to day, with no hope?

"Did you get a picture?" Lilly asked when I returned.

As I choked back my tears, I said, "Yes, I got the picture—but not with the camera. Her picture is in my heart."