One of the most meaningful experiences of my life took place in the Philippines. In the remote village of Lubuagan, high in the mountain provinces of northern Luzon, is a small mission school of some 250 students. The school and its sister church are on the main highway to Manila, which at this point is a narrow, treacherous dirt road, built on a mountain ledge.

This little town literally clings to the mountains. It is half surrounded by graded rice terraces which give the impression of a thousand reflecting pools of myriad sizes and shapes. Approached from a distance, with the terraced ponds in front and the tiered mountains in back, it is an incredible sight to long haunt the mind. Few outsiders have been in this area, except missionaries, because it is so remote and primitive.

It had begu…