Chapter 2: Final draft

I hate flying. I used to have dreams as a kid that I could fly. I would climb to the roof of our house and jump off, and somehow continue flying. That flying, though, was cool in my dream, but the actual one where you get on an airplane and fly… that’s totally different.

There are a few reasons I hate flying. One of them has to do with the actual reality that we humans weren’t meant to fly… other than in our dreams of course, where it is clearly God’s intention that we move freely in the air. I keep hearing that flying is safer than driving a car, but that only makes me hate driving a car even more. What I really like is sitting in the safety of my house, eating chips and salsa, and watching TV. That seems to be a lot safer than flying or driving a car.

Another reason I hate flying is because I hate crowds. I know I should love people
and all that jazz, and I usually like people as individuals. It’s only when they’re all together in a crowd that I hate them. Flying, for the most part, includes crowds.

I did get on an airplane once that had the last few rows empty, which I thought was great since I hate crowds. I asked the flight attendant why they were empty, when the crowd seemed to be huge outside the airport and they were even offering “vouchers” for anybody who was willing to get off the plane. “That’s because of the wind direction. When the wind blows from east to west, it can affect the take off of the airplane. If we were full, we wouldn’t make it past the mountains. This would cause us to crash into them.” For some odd reason, that didn’t make me feel more at ease about flying, but it did help me understand why I hate crowds. Crowds make you crash into big, huge mountains.

Finally, one more reason for which I hate flying and I hate crowds is because if the plane is full and somebody sits next to me, I am expected to speak to them. I was taught as a little kid not to talk to strangers. That’s actually one of those rules that I appreciated. I’m very uncomfortable talking to strangers. I have to do that a lot, because my job makes me have to be very friendly to a bunch of strangers. I can do that when I get paid to, but when there is no money involved I would prefer to keep to myself.

So I was very excited when I got on the airplane from Costa Rica to England, via the Netherlands, otherwise known as Holland, and nobody was sitting next to me. Holland is not to be confused with Deutschland, even though for some strange reason we call the people in that country the Dutch. The flight was a twelve-hour flight across the Atlantic Ocean, and although the time in the air, and the lack of refueling islands made it more probable that the plane would crash, it meant that I didn’t have to share any last words with some stranger on an airplane. I wasn’t aware that the airplane made one stop on a little island called St. Marteen after only one hour of taking off. I noticed that what was previously an empty airplane began to fill up at this little island. Yet, it seemed that all the seats around me were filling up, except for mine. God’s face was really shining on me now.

After it appeared that all the people had found a place to sit, I looked out the window and saw a mother with her young child walking on the tarmac toward the airplane. I knew what was going to happen. Sure enough, a flight attendant (not the same one who told me we could crash into the mountains) approached me and asked me if I would be willing to move to another seat.

“Absolutely not!” I wanted to scream. “I paid for my seat, and I don’t really care if that lady has to go sit away from her daughter. As a matter of fact, I don’t care if she has to leave her daughter behind, risking being separated from her for life. I don’t care if the daughter grows up wondering whatever happened to her mother, and ruins her life in order to overcome her loneliness and sense of abandonment.” Instead, I said… “Um… yeah… I guess.”

At this point I got bumped to another seat. I kind of wish I had been bumped up to first class, but that didn’t happen. I would have even talked to strangers then, if I needed to. Instead, I had to sit in that one seat that some engineer decided could still be fit in the airplane, against all doctors’ suggestions. This seat happened to be right up against one of the main cabin doors. The cabin door took up a huge space inside the airplane, right up to half of the space on my seat. This left me with only half a seat to sit in, and no real room to stretch my legs except for the leg space that the stranger next to me had. The problem was that the stranger had legs longer than a giraffe’s, and therefore allowed me for no place to stretch my legs. Additionally, the movie screen was a big screen on the wall in front of the five center seats immediately to my right, which forced me to turn my head at a ninety-degree angle in order to attempt to catch a glimpse of the movie. And if I did catch a glimpse, the movie they were playing was the real live version of the Flintstones, which, I must add, has been one of the worst movies ever made in human history. I didn’t have to talk to the stranger because he only knew Dutch, or perhaps pretended to because he hates talking to strangers on airplanes.

Twelve hours later, my airplane landed, and one flight later, I made it to England.

My purpose in going to Bible school was to figure out what to do with my life. I wasn’t really looking forward to the Bible classes, because, as you are very well aware, the Bible is a very boring book. I had three ideas about what I could do with my life. I could go back home and become a doctor. Doctors get paid a lot of money, even when all they do is give prescription glasses. I could be an engineer, because although they don’t often get paid as much as doctors, they do get to go to the moon. Even though going to the moon is useless, it is pretty cool because you get to float upside down. Or I could be a businessman. Business is what people study when they don’t have a clue what they want to be when they grow up. If they want to make you think that they have a better idea, they study something called “International Business.” That only means that they don’t have a clue what to do with their life, but want to travel while they figure it out. I have a friend who doesn’t have a clue what to do with his life so he is studying philosophy. I think they should create an “International Philosophy” path so that he could travel while he studies.

There’s a lot I could say about my time there, but for the sake of getting to the point of my book, it will suffice to say that it was full of surprises.
This particular institution had 180 students from close to 25 countries in the World. This was a great place to learn about different cultures. A lot of people end up traveling to a different places as tourists in the hope of understanding a different culture. I don’t think tourists ever get a real feel for what a culture is really like. They get the tourist presentation of that culture. If you want to understand a culture, you need to live among the people for an extended amount of time. Enough time for the people to stop treating you like a tourist and just treat you like a regular foreigner. The other way is to go to a place where different cultures live together for an extended period of time. There are many interesting things you learn by doing this.

In some cultures, for instance, men hold hands, and don’t have to be gay to do so. There was a guy from Kenya called David. He had killed a lion to prove his manhood, and yet would still hold a man’s hand while walking down the street. Since he had killed a lion, none of us made fun of him for holding guys’ hands. I wish I could kill a lion, or do something cool like that. I’d be lucky if I just ran over somebody’s cat with a Mack truck. I don’t think I’m even man enough to drive a Mack truck.

There was also a guy from Korea. I don’t remember his name, because Koreans have strange names. I’ve always wondered why Korean parents don’t give their kids normal names like ours. I had to wash potatoes with this guy. He found my culture odd. He would laugh because I thought it was sad that he ate dogs. I’ve owned a lot of dogs in my life, and I’ve never been tempted to eat one. But this guy apparently ate them for the simple reason that he was hungry. I do wonder what the best tasting breed of dog was. I had a French Poodle once that would always get packed with fleas. When we would bathe her, about once a year, her white hair would turn red because of all the flea droppings. I wonder if that meant that she tasted very good if you cooked her.

There were many other things that I learned and great experiences that I had, but I will leave those for later or maybe for another book. Maybe I'll write lots of books, kind of like Stephen King, except that mine won't be horror stories. They will just be stories about myself. That means I have to be careful not to tell all my stories, because if I do, then I will run out of stories to tell.

One more important lesson I was surprised by was that the Bible wasn’t as boring as I had thought my whole life. There were some really interesting teachers at Bible School. There was this guy called Billy. Billy seemed to really dislike Christians, even though he was one. Maybe he disliked Christians, like I dislike crowds. Individually they’re alright, it’s just when they’re together that they are a problem. Billy also seemed to have had a really tough life, which to me was cool, because I like to think that I, too, have had a tough life. Except that I really haven’t. One day Billy walked past me and asked me how I was doing, to which I responded, “Good, and how about you, Billy?” “I’m as rotten as always, Mr. Perez.” I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I said… “Oh! Well I hope you are doing a little less rotten.”

I think when people ask you how you’re doing you’re just supposed to say “Fine!” or “Good.” This is true even if your cat, Tinkles, just got run over by a big Mack Truck, and immediately was torn to shreds and eaten by a coyote. You’re still supposed to say “Fine!” or “Good.” That’s the rule. But that was also what made Billy cool. He didn’t really stick to the rules.

There was also Charles. He seemed to like Christians a lot more than Billy. He also was one of the ones who made the Bible really interesting. There are people who make the Bible interesting by telling a lot of stories that in reality don’t have anything to do with the Bible. I’ve kind of come to conclude that what is really interesting is their stories and not the Bible. Others seem to find lessons in the Bible that are really interesting, and they might add some of their own stories to spice it up. I’d like to think Charles was one of those, but I can’t really remember anymore. All I remember is that I really enjoyed listening to him teach. Now he’s a big pastor in Canada, and I hear he even has a radio and TV talk show.

Then there was Graham. He was a little different just because he wasn't as classy as the other teachers. He wasn't angry at Christians, like Billy. He also wasn't as eloquent as Charles. Anybody who has heard of Graham actually makes fun of the way he says Judges. It had something to do with the part of England he was from, but it sounded kind of like Jood-Jess. The reason he said Judges so much was because he taught that book. Judges is kind of a depressing book of the Bible, because the people of Israel, who are God's people, keep doing all the wrong things. God then gives them over to their enemies to punish them, but also so that they turn to him. When they realize the mess that they’re in, which is mostly their fault, they cry out to God. He then delivers them, by sending a judge.

Graham taught near the end of my time at Bible school, and I have to admit that I don't remember much about his teaching. All I remember is that I was soon going to have to go to back to Costa Rica, and I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. I also remember that I was impressed by the fact that God would raise judges to lead his people. Somewhere in the middle of class, when I was supposed to be listening, and not thinking about my future, I cried out to God. It went something like this.

“Dear God. I came all the way to England to figure out what to do with my life. I'm not complaining, because I've had a really great, life-changing experience. But, as good as all that is, I'm kind of bummed because you haven't really told me what I'm supposed to do. I don't think it's a horrible request to ask you what I'm supposed to do. I mean... it's for your glory, and all that. But, time's running out, and you've kind of kept that little bit of information to yourself. I would really appreciate it if you could let me in on the big cosmic secret. Oh yeah, by the way, I don't care anymore. I don't care if you want me to be a doctor, and even deal with people's feet. Those are called Podiatrists, by the way. I don't care if you want me to be an engineer and design coffee makers. (I'd learned to drink coffee in England, because the only other choice was tea, and I'm not really wild about tea). I don't care if you want me to be a businessman, and even study international business so that I can travel around the World. As a matter of fact, I don't care if you want me to be a missionary and live in the Jungles of Papua New Guinea, even though I don't have a clue where that is. I don't care if I have a huge tapeworm coming out of my throat. I don't care if you want me to be single, or to be married. I don't care if you want me to marry an American girl, or you want me to marry a Papua New Guinean, even though I don't know what they look like. I don't care if you want me to rich, or to be poor. (I had forgotten about the fact that there's also the possibility of being in what they call, “the middle class”.) I DON'T CARE. I just want to do what you want me to do.”

There's a similar verse to the one I mentioned in the last chapter where Jesus tells his disciples that if anybody wants to get to know Jesus he or she must deny his or herself, take up his or her cross and follow Him (Mark 8:34). I like that verse and use it a lot to teach. I have to admit that I think this prayer kind of describes what denying oneself means. It means telling God that we don't care what we do, as long as it's what he wants us to do. So this is what I did.

I’ll never claim to be one of the greatest Christians out there. Granted, I’m sure I can find some terrible hypocrites who far surpass me in their disregard for Christ’s model of living, but I have also met my fair share of wonderful Christ-like believers. Even so, one of my greatest frustrations with the general Christian population that I know is that often they only come to God with regards to their plans and decisions when things aren’t going their way, or when they want some particular blessing. Although I think hearing God’s voice is on average very difficult to do, I still think for all of life’s big decisions He should be the one calling the shots. I say the big decisions, because if we go about asking God what restaurant we should have lunch at we’ll never get around to having lunch. There are lots of things that we do every day, and for those we can just trust that God is directing our path. It’s just that at times there are decisions that seem to be a major step in our life where we often seem to neglect God’s will and simply pray for His blessing. Top on my list are the decisions regarding marriage (even dating) and career choice. It’s often in the midst of these significant choices that God only comes into the picture when our preference ends up being the wrong one.

Assuming that hearing God’s voice and knowing His will is often difficult (at least for some of us, since others claim to hear God’s voice all the time), even if it were really easy, I still think denying oneself is incredibly difficult. There is a natural tendency to believe we could handle things better if we were left in charge. Also, there is a fear that God is out to get us. We are terrified that if we actually leave matters into God’s hands, God will give us everything that we don’t want. In our minds and hearts, though we sing His praises about Him being good and all that, He’s kind of a mean God when it comes to His choice for our future. I heard someone once give the illustration that we think that God waits for us to say something stupid like “Your will be done,” just so that He can throw some miserable future our way. “Oh, yeah? Let’s see. How about you go live in some remote jungle in Africa? What if I ask you to marry Roberta? Remember her? She’s the one with the toothless grin and the screechy voice that sounds like an airplane at takeoff.”
Yet Jesus says that God surpasses even earthly fathers. Even though I am all grown up, and with children of my own, if I were to ask my dad for a piece of bread because I have no food at home, it’s highly probable he would take me out shopping and get me a cart full of groceries. And that’s a sinful, human father. God would probably go and buy me the whole supermarket if that’s what I needed.

But I don’t want to fall into vain promises that God will make your life all a bed of roses. There are countless examples in Scripture of men and women who suffered more because of living a life of absolute surrender to God’s will. Moses spent multiple years walking in a desert. Many of the prophets and apostles died torturous deaths at the hands of God’s enemies. Even his own Son was crucified. In other words, there might be suffering and anguish if we follow God’s will. Dying to ourselves means that we don’t only choose to follow God’s will if He promises us a Mercedes SLR McLaren valued at $455,000. Dying to ourselves means that we follow God even if all He promises us is sandals that will not wear out during forty years in the desert.

Obviously it’s easier for those who get the Mercedes, or so it seems. Either way, we need to surrender to His will and not to our own. I believe as young, weak and feeble as I was, that’s what I did that day while listening to Graham teach on the book of Jood-Jess.

Immediately, the World around me seemed to vanish. I'm not sure what was happening, but all of a sudden, I was in front of a huge valley. That valley was full of dry bones, and a voice from heaven said to me, “Marco, do you think these bones can live?” “Only you know, Lord.” Suddenly a wind blew, and flesh grew on the bones, and the bodies stood firm on the ground. Then the Spirit of God entered those bones and they became walking, talking people. I knew it was a sign to me and from then on I was sure of what I was supposed to do.

I kind of wish I had cool stories like that to tell. Things like that don't ever really happen to me. Nonetheless, God was just as clear with me. I remembered my childhood fantasy of wanting to save the World in the Bruce Olson kind of way. I also remember looking at Graham and thinking, “I want to do what this guy does.” I even remembered how I wanted to be like Michael W. Smith and sing Christian songs. I realized that since I was a child I was called to serve God in some special way.

I wish I could say that it was all great after that. It really wasn't. I didn't know where to start in order to do this. I didn't know how Bible teachers supported themselves financially, much less their families. I didn't know how this would play out in my life. But I would have some things happen in my life that would help me figure it out.

I hate flying. Sure enough, on the flight back to Costa Rica, I sat down next to a stranger. As is expected, I began talking to him. “What do you do for a living?” I asked. “I work for the UN, writing international treaties.” I'm trying to write my story out on paper, but I'll be the first to admit that it's not near as cool as a guy who writes international treaties. That's kind of like saving the World, but in the Superman sort of way. I think guys who write international treaties should have to wear capes. But this guy was dressed normally. At least that’s what he wanted me to believe.
“What do you want to do with your life?” he asked. I really wanted to answer, “I want to write international treaties,” but for some reason, it sounded unoriginal. “I want to be a Bible teacher,” I told him.

“Why would you want to be a Bible teacher?”

That question scared me. Not because I didn't know the answer, but on the contrary, because I did. I didn't know what a guy who saved the World by writing international treaties would think about me trying to save the World by being a Bible teacher. But I told him.

“I believe that God created the World. I believe that His desire is to be in a relationship with the people He created in the World. I believe that that relationship was broken because of man's sin. I believe God sent Jesus, his Son, who is also God (it's hard to explain), so that he could take man's punishment for sin. I believe that Jesus died on the cross, and rose from the dead (you thought the last comment was hard to explain), and today offers to restore us to that relationship with God, if we believe in Him. I think that if what I believe is true, is really true, there is no message more important for me to tell people than this one. That's why I want to be a Bible teacher.”

I kind of braced myself waiting for him to attack each of my arguments. I kind of expected this from an international treaty writer. I don't know why I expected this, since I've never met any other international treaty writers. Instead, this is what he told me.

“I have traveled the World. I've met all sorts of people. I've dealt with the wealthy, and with the poor, with the highly educated, and with the uneducated. I've talked to powerful men. Among all the people I've talked to there are some who claim to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, and I can't dismiss it as foolishness. The truth is, I want to have a relationship with Jesus Christ, like these people and you have.”

I have to admit, I didn't hate flying that day. I was also very thankful that I sat next to a stranger that I could talk to.

My time in England was an important step that changed my life. Yet, I want to be clear. In my case I went from engineering to Bible teaching, but that wasn’t what changed my life. About a year ago, I was asked if I would be willing to go from being a Bible teacher to being a manager of a company in Costa Rica. My answer reflects how my life changed at that point.

“It’s different with me, than with the other guys you hired. In their case, most of them are just looking for a job that will pay more and improve their resume. In my case, there is no doubt that what you offer me will pay more, and being a general manager of a company will look better on a resume than a Bible teacher. But in my case, there is only one thing I have to answer. Is this what God wants me to do? If it is, then I will be glad to join your company. If it’s not, there is no amount of money you could offer me that would make me leave.”

Dying to oneself implies that there is only one question we have to ask ourselves in every decision we make in life. Is this what God wants from me?