No Compulsion

 What do you call a place where you are given little freedom? A place where you are told what to do, when to sit and when to rise, when to eat and when not to?  A place where most of your movements are watched and you are punished for disobedience?  Some might say a prison.  Others might say a school. Is it not so?  Is it not a fair description of either one?  

No eating out this month- homemade pizza

This similarity between schools and prisons is somewhat off-putting until you realize that there are actually plenty of places more like a prison than we realize.  Flying on an airplane comes to mind.  We have to go through security, they confiscate sharp or dangerous items,  and tell us when we can and can’t go to the bathroom.  A business office has its own set of rules that you have to abide by.  Hospitals have strict rules, as do most houses of worship.  Even national parks will tell you when and where you can or cannot build a fire, go to the bathroom, or make noise at night.  Yet we don’t think of any of these places as prisons.  What is the difference?

Is it not the purpose and motivation for the place.  A school’s purpose, ideally, is “a place of learning.” A hospital “a place of healing.” An airplane has a clear destination. Everyone wants to get to safely.  But a prison’s purpose, at least on some level,  is to punish.  In all the other scenarios, the members enter willingly.  I choose to go the office or the school or the hospital.  I choose to get on the airplane.  But I am forced to go to prison.  Very few choose to go there.  Perhaps that is why school seems a bit more apt of a comparison.  For many schoolchildren, it is not the children wanting to go, but the parents compelling them to do so.  “It’s for their own good.”  

Why all these thoughts on prisons and schools?  We are currently in the month of fasting.  If I ask my neighbors what they think of this month they will tell me, “It is wonderful.  A time of peace and joy and blessedness.”  Yet, all I see is a prison.  When I ask my neighbors, “Why do you fast?”  The most common answer is, “Because we have to.  God told us to.”  But in reality, God is not the only one telling them to.  The community reinforces this rule strictly.  Even the government gets in on it.  Every year edicts are declared that anyone found eating or drinking in public will be taken to jail.  

My religious friend will tell me, this month is more like school—a time of learning and growing in religious duty.  “It’s for our own good.”  There is something to be said for that argument, but I also see that when a child grows into an adult, no country on earth forces them to go to school.  Yet, during the month of fasting, adults have no choice.  They are compelled.

A few years ago we went to the French island during the month of fasting.  This island consists of the same people group, but under the French system of government.  Under the French tradition of secular governance, there is no compulsion to fast during the month of fasting.  I found myself shocked by what I saw.  Islanders eating and drinking in public during the month of fasting!  How different from Clove Island where the mood of strict observance hangs over daytime life like a cloud.

Can still eat out in mainland Africa though

There is much good to be found in fasting.  There is good in habitual routines and rhythms of self-sacrifice, austerity and temperance.  But not under compulsion.  There is a world of difference between one who chooses to fast and one who fasts out of compulsion. If they truly had a choice, if no one could shame them for their choice, if their obedience or disobedience in fasting did not carry the threat of heavy eternal punishment, how many would do it?  I think very few, and I’ve even had islanders agree with that opinion.  Here on Clove Island, for a few this month may be a school, but I believe that for most it is a prison.  

Even for many of those islanders whose hearts are free, the pressure of society and the fear of the police compels them to fast.  Their souls are not in prison, but their bodies are.  I long for their freedom.  For us, our outsider status means we share openly that we don’t fast.  I hope one day my island brothers and sisters could be so bold.  Because the truth is, the prison doors are open.  The threat of eternal punishment nullified.  The debt is paid.  They are free to walk out the open doors of their prison and into freedom.  May the island people walk into freedom.  May the islands be set free.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Megan was able to get the rest of our daughter’s prescription meds and visit the kids at their school before she had to leave for leadership meetings.  It has been raining on and off the past few days, which is a mercy as when it’s not raining the heat is pretty brutal.  We pity all the people fasting in such heat and are thankful for the rain that cools things down.  We are thankful for the conversations that are happening and will happen this month everywhere we go.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for islanders hearts to be open this month to hear the good news that the prison doors are open.  Pray for many to walk into freedom. The leadership meetings (where Megan is) are focusing on spiritual formation. Pray that everyone participating would be drawn more into the presence of God that they might grow in their attentiveness to the Spirit. Our youngest son isn’t feeling well (perhaps with the same illness Tom had the previous week). Pray for a quick recovery. Continue to pray for him and Tom as they brave it at home alone. Pray for our older son and the school choir as they go on a music tour over the weekend. May it be a wonderful time of sharing music with a message. Pray for smooth travels for Megan back to the islands at the end of the week.