Empty Hand Revolution

Leaps and Bounds

“Where is this place again?” Kumar turned in his seat to talk to Cosmo, who was seated behind him in the seventeen-passenger van.

“Just outside Gurgaon.”

“We were outside of Gurgaon a half hour ago.”

“Just South of Gurgaon.” Cosmo corrected himself.

Kumar nodded. “I know of a perfect place for dinner on the way home.”

“Another ministry expense?” Cosmo’s cousin, Kachui, joined in the conversation as the van slowed to a crawl in midday traffic. The driver slammed his arm on the outside of the driver-side door. With his head out the window, he chided an autowallah attempting to create an extra lane.

Cosmo waited for the ruckus to die down. “That’s why we brought you along, cousin.”

“To limit stray spending?” Kachui shot back.

“No, to raise enough money for us to have dinner.” Kumar leaned across to punch Kachui in the arm, perhaps a bit harder than necessary.

“Watch it, hit man.” Kachui used the insider nickname the group had given Kumar after he joined their ministry. Tongue in cheek, the inner core of the group used the name when no one else was listening. On this instance the driver cocked his head to the side.

Kumar glared at Kachui. “Good thing the going rate on you never got over 200 rupees.”

Cosmo snickered. “I feel honored to have reached 1,500.”

“There’s no hit on me, and we all know it.” Kachui said. “I haven’t gone around picking fights with everyone who looks at me crooked.”

“Those are fighting words.” Cosmo over exaggerated his offense.

“Cut it out.” Kachui didn’t flinch. “Since we’re on the issue of money…”

Kumar interrupted. “I thought we were on the issue of dinner.”

“We haven’t even had lunch yet.” Cosmo said.

Kachui threw a sack lunch at his cousin. “Have a sandwich.” Kumar started to complain, but Kachui hit him with a second brown bag before he could get a word out. “Maybe with some food in your mouths I’ll be able to carry on a one-sided intelligent conversation.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Kumar pulled out a grilled paneer sandwich. “What, no meat?” He picked a tomato slice out of the sandwich and gobbled it down.

“I’ll have you know, I found those sandwiches in the dumpster behind Bukhara Cafe, hardly touched.”

Kumar stopped in the middle of a huge bite.

Cosmo slapped the back of Kumar’s head. “You have to learn when my cousin is joking.”

Kumar chewed and swallowed. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, as I was going to say,” Kachui resumed, “the ministry is growing too quickly for the money to keep up.”

“We always have money when we need it,” Cosmo said.

“You say that as if you have something to do with it.” Kachui shook his head. “And besides it’s not even true. Usually we decide what we need based on available resources. It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s the same thing to me.” Cosmo spoke with his mouth full of grilled paneer.

“What about tomorrow’s three demonstrations in the Jahangir Puri district?”

Cosmo shrugged.

“Are you aware we only have enough bricks for one show?” Watching the others eat, Kachui decided to start on a sandwich of his own.

Kumar picked up the conversation. “What about the demolition of the old Azadpur building? There’s gotta be some salvageable bricks there.”

“Good thinking, hit man.” Cosmo wiped his chin. “We’ll stop tonight and see what we can find.”

“Bottles? Coconuts? Pine boards?” Kachui resumed the interrogation. “We’re nearly out of everything. Or do you plan on breaking their spirits for your final act?”

Cosmo nodded. “Okay. Point taken, cousin. This is why I hired you. I’ll make a round for donations first thing tomorrow morning. Do you have a list of the building supply places we’ve hit up?”

Kachui nodded. “What about the football match Friday evening?”

Cosmo sat up straight, putting on his business face. “Do the new guys have shoes?”

“Yes, and shirts. But we’ll need to buy refreshments.”

“Can you get enough money today to cover it?”

Kachui raised a brow. “Sixteen teams?”

“You think there’ll be that many?” Kumar asked.

“Three weeks before the Kenya Open?” Kachui asked rhetorically.

Cosmo scratched his chin. “I could kill a few extra dogs.”

“Nothing beats fresh grilled dog.” Kumar licked his lips.

Kachui remained unimpressed. “It’ll take more than dog to buy the right to share with over a hundred sweaty football players, most of whom will be Muslims.”

“It’s not like we’ll be offering pig.” Kumar scrounged on the floor beneath Kachui for another brown bag.

Kachui slapped his hand.

Kumar reared back in preparation to tackle the team treasurer.

Cosmo snatched Kumar by the collar, preventing the fight. “Just see what you can do, cousin. If the Gurgaon churches wish to partner in the future, perhaps they’ll be willing to fund the present. We can send them fresh converts. Today will be proof enough of that.”

Kumar gave up his struggle to retaliate against Kachui. “You sound pretty sure of yourself, brother. This is our first show in Gurgaon. The Hindus in the area are more vigilant than Delhi. I’ve taken money for jobs,” Kumar hung his head. “Any little thing is worth killing over around here.”

“This isn’t a little thing. You’re proof. I’m proof. We’ll give them a show, and we’ll show them the truth.” Cosmo turned from Kumar to Kachui. “We just need money a day at a time. I don’t want to stop scheduling events in the future because we don’t have money today. This is God’s business. We’re here to manage it.”

“Fair enough. I’ll do what I can.” Kachui finished his sandwich.

“And so will we.” Cosmo glanced over his shoulder at the other dozen volunteers riding in the back of the van. Some of them had been with him since he first formed his ministry, The Winning Team, three months earlier. A few of them were so fresh, he struggled to remember their names.

Before they arrived for the martial arts demonstration south of Gurgaon, he’d need to go over the basics again: respect the locals, defer when confronted, show strength but restraint in all situations. Above all, remember why they’ve come—to share how Jesus the Christ has impacted their lives.

When in doubt, watch and learn. Cosmo didn’t have time to spend days or even hours on training. Too many people were starving all around him, both physically and spiritually. This was ministry by fire.

That included himself. At times, doubt reared its ugly head. He remembered the jungle ministry of his father. Despite his father’s years of faithful service, God had regularly failed to provide food for their table.

But this wasn’t the jungle. This was Delhi. Cosmo knew money flowed like rivers beneath the city’s dirty surface. He knew where to find it, and he knew the sort of talk it took to procure it, even if Kachui didn’t.

God’s work would be done, one way or the other.