By David Fischel
This article was originally published in PCJH’s Winter 2025 Pinnacle, “Testimonies of Faith”

I have to admit that I do not know where I would be in terms of my faith had I not been raised by parents, who were believers and who made sure their two sons were grounded in the  teachings of the faith. My mother, having herself grown up in a family of believers, had an  unshakeable faith and a servant’s heart. 

 My dad’s story couldn’t have been more different. He grew up, the youngest of 4 siblings, in a  Jewish family in Mannheim, Germany. In 1933, as a 15 year old, my father was expelled from  school for refusing to return the Hitler salute, was later jailed as an “enemy of the Third Reich”,  was scheduled for a train ride to the Dachau death camp, was miraculously released from  prison, and after some months escaped Germany and sailed for New York. A Christian aunt, who  had been living in the US for some time, took my father to church, where my father turned his  life over to Jesus, was baptIzed, and, fortuitously, met the love of his life, the woman who would  become my mother. 

 My parents provided us, my brother and me, every opportunity to learn about and grow in the knowledge and love of Jesus: Sunday School, Sunday morning worship service, Sunday evening  service, midweek prayer meetings, vacation Bible school and church camp in the summer. Looking back now to that time, I have the sense that, although God’s love was preached, there was, at least in my memory, a certain emphasis on being sure of one’s eternal fate: eternity in heaven with the Lord versus everlasting punishment in hell. And, therefore, I’m quite certain that my coming to Jesus as a young lad derived, to a large extent, from a heartfelt desire to be assured  of a place in eternity. 

 For years after that, my faith was on cruise control, following the path of least resistance. It  took me some time to embrace the truth, as Paul said in his letter to the Phillipians, that if I really loved Jesus and I wished Him to become more real to me, I needed to “work out” my  salvation. Not “work for” something I already had, but work to develop the faith I already had. Tim Keller says we do that through the “disciplines of grace”. 

 Obedience is one of those disciplines. Clarence Jordan, an African-American pastor and  mentor of Millard Fuller, founder of Habitat for Humanity, famously said that Christians will “worship the hind legs off Jesus, but [won’t] obey Him”. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will  obey what I command.” (John 14:15). What does He command? Love God. Love your neighbor.  Whatever we do “for the least of these”, we do for Him. 

 Nearly three decades ago, my wife and I felt a need to become more intentional in obeying Jesus and caring for the least of these. I say “we” because my wife, Melanie, was all in. We each took a three-month sabbatical from our jobs and attended a Spanish language school in Barcelona. We did a training in New York City with the United Methodist Church, which had a Volunteers in Mission program that connected volunteers like us with service projects around the world. We’d already been involved with Habitat for Humanity at home, so it was an easy step to volunteer for Builds Beyond Our Borders.

 In the early 2000s we spent a month providing healthcare to Mapuche youth at a residential   school run by the United Methodist Church of Chile, the first healthcare providers to serve at that school. We’ve partIcipated in ten Habitat builds abroad, mostly in Central and South  America, but also one in Central Asia and one in Poland. Serving as the hands and feet of Jesus can be physically hard, and the living conditIons can be a bit iffy, but we always return home feeling blessed by the experience. 

 There are always unexpected moments of grace. 

 Some years ago we partIcipated in a build in a small town on Guatemala’s beautiful Lake Atitlan. Melanie and I always preferred to walk to and from the work site, rather than take a minibus or “tuk-tuk”. On our walk we would pass two little girls, wee lasses 3–5 years of age. We would greet them, and, initIally, they would respond with giggles, but keep their distance. Soon they figured out our schedule and would be waiting for us. Excited to see us, they’d start wiggling and giggling, literally vibrating with excitement, and waving their arms. On our very last day, they ran out into the street and wrapped their arms around our legs in big hugs. “But to each one of us grace has been given” (Ephesians 4:7).