Today’s post was adapted from an update written by a CAMA international worker serving in Southeast Asia.
I stole the title of this update.
Five times a day, a call to prayer rings out over loudspeakers throughout the city from local mosques. At any moment, throughout the day or night, you might hear a firework go off for Chinese New Year intended to scare away evil spirits and invite good luck. Along the street, you’ll frequently come across a small shrine for some spirit or other. Ornate and colorful temples full of idols and statues are scattered throughout the city. Incense burns all day.
This city is a blend of religions, languages, and cultures that have found a way to coexist. Each comes with its specific set of celebrations and holidays. While my work is focused on coming alongside refugees who worship the majority religion, that does not mean I’m unaware of the other types of darkness people here are trapped in.
This month, one of the religious groups here celebrated a holiday unfamiliar to me‒Thaipusam. In my research of this unknown holiday that was shutting down main traffic arteries in the city, I came across a video titled “The Burden of Worship.” A group of photographers had snapped pictures throughout this holiday one year, and one of them shared the photos and put together a video of what he’d learned and experienced while documenting it.
A brief picture: two “chariots” (decorated carts) pulled by oxen are swarmed by worshipers as they carry a statue of their god through the streets. Some worshipers build elaborate “kavadis,” a sort of decorated canopy, which they attach to their body and carry through the streets to a temple as an offering to their god. Kavadi literally means “burden” or “load.” Others go into a trance and have their cheeks and tongues pierced with metal rods, or they fill their backs and chests with hooks attached to strings. Their friends then provide resistance by pulling on those strings as they walk to the temple. Others whisper their prayers into the ears of idols.
I hesitate to share some of this because it is rather graphic. But I want to convey the reality of the country and cultures here. While I am here to focus on a specific people group, clearly there is work to be done among other groups. As I’m writing this, I’m praying for others to feel the call to reach those in the religions and cultures who are still trapped, carrying burdens to a “god” to whom they are enslaved. For the past couple of weeks, Isaiah 46:1–7 has run like a refrain through my mind:
Bel bows down, Nebo stoops low;
their idols are borne by beasts of burden.
The images that are carried about are burdensome,
a burden for the weary.
They stoop and bow down together;
unable to rescue the burden,
they themselves go off into captivity.
“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob,
all the remnant of the people of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since your birth,
and have carried since you were born.
Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
“With whom will you compare me or count me equal?
To whom will you liken me that we may be compared?
Some pour out gold from their bags
and weigh out silver on the scales;
they hire a goldsmith to make it into a god,
and they bow down and worship it.
They lift it to their shoulders and carry it;
they set it up in its place, and there it stands.
From that spot it cannot move.
Even though someone cries out to it, it cannot answer;
it cannot save them from their troubles.
As they struggle under their burdens and spend their money on gods they fashioned, we serve the One who told us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30) and “I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isa. 46:4b).
Reread that verse. It is entirely the opposite of what Thaipusam, its religion, and so many other religions are about.
Seeing this celebration—hearing one of my nine-year-old students repeat excitedly all the sights I just described above, including seeing people pierced with strings—has made my heart ache with urgency. I don’t want this sweet little boy to end up ensnared by an evil and false god, to pierce his own skin, to carry a “burden of worship” when there is One who was pierced for his transgressions, once and for all.
I’m praying that the Holy Spirit is moving in more of you—and your churches—to go to the hard places—to obey the call to come share the good news of a Father who promises to carry us, not the other way around. I’m praying for people willing to send sacrificially. Please ask Him if that’s part of the good work He’s prepared for you to walk in. Be willing to do as He asks—or ask Him to make you willing. If that’s too scary, ask Him to make you want to be willing. He’s delighted with every step we take toward Him, and the closer we walk with Him, the easier it is to pass those burdens onto His much broader shoulders.
A prayer I want to leave with you:
Father, help us to sift out the burdens we take on as some sort of misguided sacrifice to You, as if we can earn Your blessing or Your forgiveness by the weights that we carry. Show us what it means to walk alongside You in this season, to join You in the work You’re already doing. Help us to learn from You; remind us that Your yoke, Your teaching, and Your way of living do not weigh us down with do’s and don’ts or pointless and heavy sacrifices but give us life, and life more abundant. Thank You for the sacrifice of Your Son that carried the weight of our sin and extended us mercy and grace. Give us the joy of Your salvation as we walk through the difficult parts of our lives. Remind us daily that we do not walk alone.
