Masks

Walking into the national museum, I was getting my French brain all geared up and ready to go. 

I'm gonna listen really well to the guide. I am going to take what I understand and ask questions. When I don't undertand, I will be bold enough to ask him to repeat himself. This is going to be a perfect learning and practicing experience...

But as soon as we walked into the door, I could not say a word. 

It was only one big room with lots of small stations. At first, each station looked pretty much the same. Masks. There were masks everywhere. 

The guide began his well-rehearsed presentation. "Masks play a very important role in the culture of Burkina Faso. They have a political, economic, social, and spiritual significance." 

We passed from station to station, hearing the stories of the masks.

The crocodile mask represented longevity. People would wear this mask during a ritual or ceremony in order to seek long life and health. 

The rabbit mask represented intelligence. Worn to seek wisdom. 

The snake represented fertility. Wear it if you want to find a spouse or have kids. 

There were special masks for funerals. Special masks for marriages. Special masks for rites of passage. Some masks that only the chief could wear. Some masks that everyone could wear. A mask for courage. A mask for guidance. A mask for adaptivity. A mask for peace. A mask for prosperity.

And I couldn't say a word. 

On one hand, I was fascinated by the years and years of preserved history in this room. It was truly an impressive collection of ancient artifacts that represent Burkina culture. 

On the other hand, my heart was broken at the hopelessness. What if, when I needed wisdom and guidance, I had to put on a mask and participate in a ritual or ceremony? Feeling ill? Put on a mask. Want to find a husband? Put on the mask. Such immense hope was placed in such meaningless, powerless objects. 

So I could not say a word. I was absolutely struck at the reality of what was before me. These masks are not just sitting in a museum. They are out in the villages, still being used and believed in. I couldn't ask a single question because the only thing I wanted to ask was, "How can this be true? How can people put their trust in masks? Did things really happen because they danced around in a mask?" I could not make a single comment because the only thing I could have said was, "These people need to hear about Jesus!" 

Jesus, the living hope. Our God, the only living, true, real God. Those masks try to invoke spiritual forces, but they cannot talk. They cannot hear or listen or speak. They cannot do a single thing. But our God hears and speaks and acts on behalf of men! What amazing hope we have to offer to the world - to a world who puts hope in masks and ceremonies and money and promotions and job security and relationships and the opinions of others. 

So I didn't learn a whole lot of French, except the words for owl, hyena, and horn/tusk. And I didn't get to practice a whole lot either. But I did learn something. We hold in our hearts the living hope of the world, and how will they know such a hope is real unless we tell them?