Stranger Than Fiction, the Missionary Version

Not all of my favorite books are fiction. I love a good true story. I have a knack for digging up missionary memoirs, especially the kind where God did miraculous things through a person who had surrendered themselves to him. I’m not even sure how I come across them—usually in a library of a church or of retired missionaries. I even found one in a random cabin, and it blew my mind. Most of these stories are about folks who walked difficult paths with great courage, subjecting themselves to danger and grief for the sake of a people group they loved more than their own lives. These stories alight my imagination and make me wonder how even now, God writes the best stories. 

Bruchko is not a new book. It was first published in 1978. It has a flavor all of it’s own, because it’s autobiographical… and a little quirky. Bruce Olson was just a 19-year-old kid when he left his home in Minnesota—alone—to preach the gospel to the indigenous tribes of South America. He was broken. He grew up broken, even abused and neglected by his wealthy parents. He was also weak, sickly, and awkward. And when Bruce met Jesus, his youth pastor took personal offense that he claimed to have “found” him… since you know that was his job. The pastor’s theology was tweaked by God’s powerful intervention in Bruce’s life.

It’s like Bruce’s life growing up was the perfect combination of tragedy that prepared him to be the answer for the desperate longings of a lost tribe. Bruce recounts how he started his journey in South America: He had no money, no backing of a church, no sending organization. He was tall, skinny, blond, weak, unathletic; called to short, stalky, dark Indians who were still separated from the modern world and only knew white people as murderers and thieves. Despite all of the reasons why he was wrong for the part, God clearly orchestrated Bruce’s journey to a specific, fierce warrior tribe where he successfully shared the gospel.

How it all plays out is perfect. I probably had a goofy smile on my face for days the first time I read it. This kid, Bruce, was incredibly astute and intelligent. He’s a naturally gifted linguist and a talented theologian who listened to the Holy Spirit each step of his way. 

And I think that’s where the magic lies. Bruce Olson pinpoints specific, painful details of the journey—the rejection of fellow missionaries and the confusing politics of 1960’s Venezuela. This, followed by a lonely journey through a jungle and the near-death obstacles in reaching and befriending the warrior tribe. If I pick up Bruchko, I won’t put it down until I finish, even though I’ve read it several times already. This memoir teaches me so much about my own presuppositions of faith. 

I highly recommend this, one of my favorite books, to anyone who likes a good story. And if you ever doubt what God can still do through a single teenager, remember Bruchko.