Dangerous: Engaging the People and Places No One Else Will

Church

Introduction

Give Me Danger

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.

—Anais Nin

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.

—T. E. Lawrence

I love movies that inspire me to get off the couch. It’s surprising how pop culture can teach us about our faith and our insecurities. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a find something redemptive that isn’t necessarily there in every movie type person. But I think a movie like M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village reveals a lot about Christians and how we think. If you haven’t seen the film (spoiler alert!), it’s about a group of hippies—all of whom have been wounded by this fallen world—who decide to create their own compound and cut themselves off from society.

Of course, the appeal in this approach is that we can delude ourselves into thinking that if we can just engineer our surroundings the right way, perhaps we can navigate through life without ever being hurt. This mind-set is as incredibly tempting for us as it is for the folks in The Village, until, of course, they need to engage the outside (in this case, for medicine).

This sets the stage for a hero to emerge—Joaquin Phoenix’s character—someone willing to cross to the forbidden woods. Someone brave enough to go outside the camp.

Aren’t you just drawn to courage? I feel it when I watch freestyle motocross legend Travis Pastrana attempt something impossible, like a 720 backflip off a ridiculously huge ramp at the X Games. My heart pounds, and if he lands it or not, I’m proud of him (I think there’s common grace in there somewhere!). Pastrana never lets fear, failure, or broken bones stop him. He always believes and always pushes through the pain.

Evel Knievel, the grandfather of extreme sports, knew both physical and spiritual pain for most of his life. But at the age of sixty-eight, he stood in front of a church and declared, I wrote in my book that I’ve had a life better than any king, president, or prince. That’s hogwash! Because I didn’t have Jesus Christ in my life. I had five Rolls Royces. I’ve had five Ferraris, the Stetsons, the Lamborghinis. I’ve had two jet airplanes. I flew one alongside of the other so I could read my name . . . on the side of [it]. . . . I’ve had the diamonds and the gold, the racehorses, women, and the booze. I tell you, I’ve been a sinner! You’re looking at a real sinner, but not anymore. . . . I just am so happy! This is the biggest step I have ever taken in my life.[1]

Less than a year later, Evel jumped the gap from earth to heaven. His testimony was a wake-up call to many, but imagine the impact a creative, risk-taking maverick like Evel could have had on the world if he’d funneled that passion in the right direction at an earlier age.

Katie Davis is one of those young world-shakers. Inspired by Mother Teresa, Katie ventured from Tennessee to Uganda at the age of eighteen to teach at an orphanage for a few months. After the experience, she could never go back to life as usual. The American dream held no grip on her, and she refused to let her fears kidnap her from mothering the numerous impoverished children she had met. She quickly started a child sponsorship program, a feeding program, a nonprofit ministry, and has personally adopted more than a dozen children. The crazy thing is she is still in her mid-twenties!

Courageous forerunners like Katie not only inspire us, they give us a glimpse of the God-given potential that lies within each of us.

The 13th Floor

Hebrews 13:13 reflects imagery we see in The Village: Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. Him in this verse is Christ on the cross, outside the city gate, where animals were sacrificed. This suggests that Jesus did much of his work outside his culture’s acceptable camps, places where he was at the risk of disgrace. In Let the Nations Be Glad, John Piper writes, Outside the camp means outside the borders of safety and comfort. It is above all a missionary text. Outside the camp are the ‘other sheep’ that are not of this fold. Outside the camp are the unreached nations. Outside the camp are the places and the people who will be costly to reach and will require no small sacrifice. But to this we are called: Let us go and bear the abuse He endured. It is our vocation.[2]

I find it ironic that Hebrews 13:13, a frequent commissioning verse for missionaries, contains the same digits as one of the most feared places today—the 13th floor. Did you know that an estimated 80 percent of high-rise buildings don’t have a 13th floor? They skip from the 12th floor to the 14th floor, because people are superstitious and think the number 13 is bad luck. They think the 13th floor is where bad things happen. An unlucky place that’s best forgotten. Even outside the United States, the superstition exists. Some airports don’t have a 13th baggage carousel, and even some airplanes don’t have a 13th row.

As Christians, we sometimes do the same thing—we mark places as 13th floors, places we shouldn’t go because good Christians don’t go there. We pretend they don’t exist. I remember when I was a kid there was a guy who came into our Sunday school class and confessed that he’d gone to a bar. That was a huge sin for him, I guess. I don’t think he identified with the bar’s culture, but just because he entered that place, he felt he had committed a sin.

This book is filled with Hebrews 13:13 stories—outside-the-camp stories I have experienced with others following Christ to forgotten places.

I want this book to be a compelling motivator and commission for those of us inside the camp to go to the world’s dark, dangerous, and despised places. I want it to be a love letter to those who reside on the outside.

As you will find out, there’s nothing especially unique about me. I’m just a guy from Nebraska who loves his wife and kids, loves adventure (which I think the Lord has used), and has a heart for people outside the camp.

It’s my prayer that the pages you’re about to read will feel more like a trebuchet (a large catapult), launching some of you from a risk-free lifestyle to a potentially dangerous calling for Christ. I’d ask you to buckle up, but the last time I checked, catapults don’t have seat belts—so get ready to leave your comfort zone as you embrace a wild ride that could land you anywhere.

Rated R

I’m driving around my parents’ property in rural Nebraska today with Ted, who is helping me write this book. It’s where I grew up. I can see the hills I used to ride my dirt bike up and down—the cliff my friend fell off of when we were little, and the mounds of dirt I used to jump. I know this land like the proverbial back of my hand, and I love it. I offer Ted an opportunity to ride dirt bikes with me and he declines, probably wisely.

His decision reminds me of the danger (no pun intended) in writing a book like this. If Ted had agreed to ride bikes and felt pressured to jump over the same jumps I’ve been navigating my entire life, I probably would have ended up showing him the inside of a rural Nebraska hospital emergency room.

What’s exciting about a book like this is that it could challenge you to do ministry in some of the darkest, most dangerous and despised places on earth. The terrifying thing is that it could challenge you to do ministry in some of the darkest, most dangerous and despised places on earth.

Here’s what I mean:

A book, and a lifestyle like this, isn’t for everybody. I didn’t know it was for me until I felt the Holy Spirit calling me to it. That said, be open to the challenges, but don’t assume you’re called to these places until you sense and confirm the Holy Spirit’s prompting in your heart. We’ll talk a lot more about God’s calling as the book unfolds.

This book could be rated R because, honestly, there’s some graphic stuff in it. I’ve seen and experienced amazing things as a missionary, but a lot of it wouldn’t be fit for a Christian movie. It’s gritty, because dark, dangerous, and despised places are gritty. If you’re under eighteen, make sure you involve your parents in this process. Let them preview the book for you, and let them guide you through the process of deciding to pursue an initiative for Christ.

Be passionate in your pursuit of spiritual maturity. This kind of maturity is only gleaned through exposure to biblical preaching, immersion in the Word of God, and prayer. Spiritual maturity will help you to discern whether you’re called to a dangerous lifestyle.

Get further training. While this book is full of narratives about what God is doing in dark, dangerous, and despised places, most of these trips were conducted after a lot of thought, prayer, and training. We can learn many invaluable lessons from those who have gone before us. The appendixes in the back of the book highlight various mission organizations and training opportunities. I have my own organization called Unusual Soldiers, which trains men and women to go boldly into these hostile and dangerous places.

Involve your church. The pastors, elders, and deacons in your local church are called in Scripture to keep watch over you, their flock. It’s a solemn and weighty responsibility, and I encourage you to involve them in your decision to pursue missions. Spirit-led followers of Christ have always been involved in my trips, and are involved in my Unusual Soldiers training to this day.

A word about how to digest these stories: First and foremost, revel and glory in the goodness of the Lord! Glory in the fact that God is still at work and active in our world. Glory in the fact that the Holy Spirit still speaks and miracles still happen. Thank him for his redeeming work in your life, and in the lives of those you read about on these pages. Also listen for the Holy Spirit, who may be calling you to a specific person or place. This isn’t always the case, but it may be!

The stories here are told to the best of my memory. I have tried hard not to exaggerate or hyperbolize them. If some descriptions seem a little vague, or if I’ve changed the specific names of people and places, it’s because I’m trying to protect the folks who are ministering there.

With that, I invite you to dive into Dangerous. I’m the type of person who draws inspiration from others. Some of my ideas on where and how to minister have come from movies, artists, extreme-sports athletes, mentors, time with God, and obviously the Bible. I hope and pray that the Lord will use this book to propel your life forward in extraordinary ways!

1

Stranded

Eleven college kids sit fidgeting in a basement meeting room in the world headquarters for Unusual Soldiers. There are camo pants, lots of bandanas, a few backpacks, one Rambo-looking survival knife, and lots of chewing of fingernails.

I say world headquarters semi-sarcastically because we’re located in the middle of nowhere. Franklin, Nebraska. Population, one thousand. Its remote location is probably what inspired the notorious outlaw Jesse James to consider moving here a month before he died. It’s the sort of place where men grow up to farm, guzzle beer at a bar called the Black Powder, and debate the relative merits of Ford versus Chevy trucks.

Our offices are in the old Franklin library, a small brick building just off the main drag, downtown. The space says a lot about me. There’s a kayak and survival equipment hanging from the walls. There’s an old fridge full of Mountain Dew and Red Bull. The walls of the bathroom are covered in graffiti—drawings and inspirational quotes from movies like Braveheart. In the basement, there is a Gladiator helmet surrounded by motocross helmets to give visitors a nice welcoming stare down.

Around the room sit a few discarded couches and the supplies that the nervous-looking students will have the opportunity of taking into the wild with them.

Let me explain. A few years ago I started an unusual mission-training program called Stranded for followers of Christ who dare to be radical. It gets them out of meeting rooms and into a wild outdoor environment where they’re challenged with tasks intended to get them to humble themselves, rely on God and on each other.

At Stranded, we are not looking to train large crowds, but rather a small core of students who have humble hearts and a desire to risk danger for Christ. In fact, when students arrive, they are greeted with a sign that reads WELCOME TO STRANDED—THE WORST WEEK OF YOUR LIFE. That type of lingo tends to weed people out rather quickly. The bonus is that those who are willing to travel across the country to be a part of this program are usually the ones who really want it. I often refer to them as the dangerous few.

Ministering in dark, dangerous, and despised places overseas is not a walk in the park. I remember being stranded in numerous places all over the world, sometimes multiple times in a day. Broken struts, dead batteries, blown transmissions, and being stuck are all parts of a normal day in third world countries. Some excursions require that we stay up day and night to get back to civilization. We get tired, thirsty, and hungry as we force our minds to get creative with the available tools. Jumper cables become towrope. Para cord holds an axle to the frame of your car. Sticks become hammers. It’s often treacherous to say the least.

All of these potentially painful experiences play a big role in why we founded Stranded. It’s better to know what you’re made of here in the Nebraska wilderness than to find out on the other side of the world.

This afternoon the students (nine guys and two gals) will sign a lengthy waiver and then I’ll abandon them in the middle of several hundred acres of land that has been in my family for decades. It is old school Nebraska countryside—a river, a cliff, a cow pasture, and lots of challenges. They’ll be setting up a camp, foraging for food, avoiding wildlife, and witnessing to a fictitious Vulture tribe. The whole thing is either brilliant or completely misguided, depending on which day you ask me.

While all this may appear to be a little extreme, let’s not forget where the Holy Spirit led Jesus before engaging in public ministry. He lived in the desert without food for forty days. Now, that’s extreme. And as if that was not enough, the devil did everything he could to bring Jesus’ character down. But Jesus never wavered. He refused to let physical needs, power, possessions, and pride rob him of the mission God had placed in front of him.

I guess Stranded offers the one week in the year where I get to play the devil’s advocate, but I’m cheering them on to make the right decisions rather than the wrong ones.

I’ve asked the students to rank themselves according to their own comfort with risk, 10 being the highest and 1 the lowest. One guy—the oldest person in the group at age thirty-six—is an adventure guide and team-building specialist. I can tell by his military-grade clothing and survival gear that he is confident and ready, but I am unsure how he will fare in the tests ahead.

One kid, Bradley, gave himself a 1 in terms of his comfort zone with risk. My family used to camp at Lake McConaughy in Nebraska, he says, taking off his hat and glasses. He’s a shy, quiet kind of kid, and his voice cracks as he speaks. "One time we brought another family, and there were several people driving up at once. We got there at night and we all made a circle with our cars to shine light on the tents while we were setting up. Finally, we fell asleep, and my friend Dylan decided to set up his tent behind the vehicles, because of an argument we had.

Later that night, he says, Dylan, who was sleeping in his tent, was struck by a vehicle. Bradley hasn’t been camping since. I’m a play-it-safe kind of guy. I have to forgive myself, he says, but it’s really hard to forget. His presence at Stranded is already one of the most courageous things I’ve ever seen. We gather around Bradley, lay our hands on him, and pray.

Bradley tells us afterward, "I