ALL FOR JESUS

The number haunts with its weight: 1,583.

That's how many people groups across Asia Pacific remain so underserved by the gospel that most who speak these languages will never meet a Christian. These aren't just statistics on a missionary report—they represent millions of souls, thousands of villages, countless families who have never heard the name of Jesus whispered in their native tongue.

But there's hope in how that number changed from 1,584 to 1,583.

Deep in the rugged mountains of South Pentecost lives a tribe called the Northern Sah. They're known for a ceremony called Nung Al—an appeal to the Yam God involving 100-foot towers and men leaping with only vines tied around their ankles. On an island literally named Pentecost, a tribe remained unreached, their spiritual darkness a stark contrast to the name of their home.

The journey to plant the first church among them began in 2009 with exploratory treks through South Pentecost. Healthcare teams followed, ministering to 500 people across four villages. One patient was a man named Joseph, a village chief. Through repeated visits, disaster response, community outreach, and persistent gospel proclamation, seeds were planted.

In 2015, the first student from the Sah tribe enrolled in Bible training. His name was Gabby—the son of Chief Joseph.

The day the first church opened in the village of Haraplanbos was unforgettable. The building stood larger than the surrounding thatch huts, its steeply pitched roof towering above the village. Women bustled in and out, arranging flowers. Every bench was crammed to capacity, faces peered through windows, and clusters of people sat under trees beyond the open door.

During the altar call, a young man strode up the aisle with determined steps, stopping directly before the pulpit. As he stood sobbing in repentance, a shaft of light from the window above struck his face, making his tears glisten.

But the story didn't end with celebration.

Only two months after the church opened, the rest of the tribe gathered together and burned down both the church and the village, expelling the new believers from the tribe. Yet from that apparent defeat came victory. A neighboring tribe accepted them as refugees, and a new church launched at Londar.

Today there are 14 Assembly of God churches on South Pentecost and six Christian schools. Before Chief Joseph went to heaven, he reflected on the church's growth with these powerful words to his fellow chiefs: "You burned down our church, but everywhere the ashes fell, another church has sprung up. So you are welcome to burn down any of these churches that you would like."

From ashes, a movement was born.

Revelation 5:9 paints the picture that should capture every believer's imagination: "And they sang a new song, saying: 'You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.'"

This isn't just poetic imagery—it's God's unchangeable plan. Heaven's plan for the cosmic finale of all time is a splendorous, transcultural, multinational, omnilinguistic throng surrounding the throne of Jesus Christ, rejoicing that they have been redeemed by the blood of the Lamb.

God does not have a plan B.

There is no second-best option that will suffice. It must be every tribe, every people, every language, and every nation. Any view of missions that is satisfied with anything short of representatives of all peoples everywhere being brought to faith in the Son of God falls tragically short of God's view of missions.

Have you ever heard someone sing worship in a language you don't understand and still felt goosebumps? That's the Holy Spirit inside you resonating with God's plan, saying, "Yes, that is what we're going for—everyone worshiping Jesus."

Paul asked in Romans 10: "How can they call on him in whom they've not believed? How can they believe in him of whom they have not heard? How can they hear without a preacher? How can they preach unless they are sent?"

The logic is inescapable. Fulfilling the mission requires preachers to go. Going requires senders to send. It really is that simple.

As long as one human language has yet to be used to whisper the name of Jesus, as long as one nation remains unreached by the gospel, as long as one people, one tribe, or one kindred remains outside of the family of the redeemed—we have not done enough.

We have not sent enough. We have not given enough. We have not gone enough.

In John 17:6, Jesus prayed: "I have revealed you to those whom you gave me out of the world. They were yours; you gave them to me."

It sounds like a child saying, "But Daddy, you promised."

At some point in eternity past, the Father said, "Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance and the ends of the earth for your possession." And the Son said, "I will take them."

The Father must have warned about the terrible price that would need to be paid. Isaiah 53 graphically describes the suffering Jesus would endure for our redemption. But it also describes his satisfaction: "After he has suffered, he will see the light of life and be satisfied."

Jesus paid an awful price, but as he sees men and women being redeemed out of an ever-expanding group of peoples and tribes and languages, he is satisfied. It is worth it.

In a city called Banjarmasin, Indonesia—a city of over a million people without a single church—a small group of Indonesian believers met to discuss planting churches. They hadn't had communion in so long because they had no ordained minister. When offered the opportunity to share communion together, their gratitude was palpable.

As the prayer over the cup was spoken, one truth became crystal clear: "They are mine now. I have purchased them with my own blood. They belong to me."

Everything needed for the redemption of people from every language group around the entire world has already been met. Jesus Christ paid the price. It is now our job to go and claim for our King what he has purchased with his own blood.

William Borden was born into the wealthy Borden Milk family. As a boy, God called him to be a missionary. His father said it would be throwing his life away. In the flyleaf of his Bible, young William wrote two words: "No reserves."

Graduating from Yale University with numerous high-paying job opportunities arranged by his father, he turned them all down to pursue missions. He added two more words: "No retreats."

While dying from spinal meningitis in Egypt, en route to his chosen field in China, having never seen those he felt called to serve, he wrote his final two words: "No regrets."

Today his tombstone in Egypt is inscribed with six simple words: No reserves, no retreats, no regrets.

Revelation 5 assures us that the number will eventually count down to zero. Representatives from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation will stand before the throne. But it will count down to zero only as men and women give their lives so that those without access to the gospel get to hear the story of Jesus.

The question isn't whether God's plan will be accomplished—it will. The question is whether we'll be part of accomplishing it.

One more language needs to be used to worship the King. One more people group needs to hear. One more tribe needs a church planted among them. One more nation needs the gospel.

What if you were the one who changed 1,583 to 1,582?