Grab the bras and GO!

Did you happen to read the headline last week about the “uncontacted tribe” that was discovered in the Amazon? The tribe was one of the few remaining people groups in the world that lived completely isolated from the rest of us, and from looking at the photos, it seems pretty clear that the sight of the aircraft that spotted them was pretty unnerving for them.

After I read it, I sat for a second and considered what “uncontacted” meant. Some of these considerations were pretty cool. Think of it – they have no idea about the Holocaust or the bomb that fell on Hiroshima. They don’t have hand guns (from the looks of their native garb, it’d be awfully tough to conceal one anyway). None of them appear to be wearing constrictive undergarments to appear thinner or to defy gravity. I did not see one gas pump with a ridiculous per gallon price on it and I did not notice one organized church (I could be wrong, because that last hut may have an L.E.D. sign flashing service times, but it’s hard to tell).

Oh, I know it’s only a matter of time until someone is called to be a missionary to these remote folks (it probably happened during an altar call at some point in yesterday’s services somewhere). We’ll race in with our English Bibles and straightened teeth, and then we’ll tell them about Jesus and how He wants them to wear pants. We’ll call their gods “pagan” and their lifestyle “barbaric” and, eventually, the missionaries will appear on CBN to tell their story of taking the gospel into this savage region. It’ll probably become a movie produced by the same people who did “Facing the Giants” (you know, the movie that showed the world how God controls the outcome of high school football games and that everything in your life works out PERFECTLY if you are a Christian).

I’ll admit that I have this snarky little fantasy that goes like this: World makes contact with uncontacted tribe. We are amazed to discover that they love and worship one Creator God and His Incarnate Form - which they have given a really cool name that makes us giggle, something like “Ladee Mucka PoopyPoo.” They love this God with all their hearts, souls, minds and strength and they worship Him in spirit and in truth. They are kind and hospitable people, sharing the things they have with each other and keeping no record of wrongs. They don’t care about skin color or gender or intelligence, you can belong to their tribe regardless. Their language doesn’t even have words for “genocide” or “military” or “sanctuary redecorating committee.” How fascinating would it be, if these uncontacted people live so in tune with God, that they consider others better than themselves and love their enemies to the point of dying for them? What if they understand holiness to be about having God on the inside?

They probably wouldn’t want to embrace our evolved culture even if you offered them the whole outside world. When interviewed, they’d say, “No thanks. We think you’re a little too barbaric for us.”

I would just smile and wait for Neiman Marcus to begin selling designer loin cloths.