I recently talked to Marilouise Petersen, who had just come back from a mission trip to the African country of Malawi. She had been to a place called Livingstonia, which had been named after the famous missionary David Livingston. She told me this country is desperately poor. The people there have virtually nothing. Among other things, AIDS is rampant in this population. Because of their missionary history many of the people there are deeply-committed Christians. Perhaps this is also due to the fact that, in their extreme poverty, they have no where else to turn in the really difficult times of life.

There are very few doctors in this impoverished country, almost no hospitals, and very little in the way of medical supplies. What little medical attention the people get is found in aid stations which are staffed by the equivalent of nurses’ aids who do the best they can with the limited resources they have.

While Mrs. Petersen was there, the word was spread that a doctor was coming. Large numbers of people started traveling to this town, often coming very long distances on foot. It was not uncommon to see them carrying children, or even adults, on their backs, and they were saying, “The doctor is coming!” You can imagine what a major event this would be and the sense of hope it would bring.

Sometimes the doctor would bring healing, or reverse the infection, or ease the pain, and sometimes the situation was beyond his control, sometimes he could not help. In these cases, the people turned again to their faith in God. In their poverty, they had no place else to go.

In stark contrast to Christians in places like Malawi, we here in America think we have everything. By the standards of most of the world, we are truly rich. When adversity comes to us, we have lots of places to turn. We have access to some of the best medical care in the world. We believe the government will help us in times of financial adversity. We have systems, programs, institutions and resources to meet virtually every need. And since we feel that we have everything covered, we have relatively little need for God.

The Apostle John, writing of the revelation given to him by the risen Jesus while he was on the island of Patmos, wrote to the church at Laodicea, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see” (Rev. 3:15-18).

In terms of the things that are eternally significant, perhaps a little poverty in this life would be a good thing.