The students, that is. They get the whole issue of the call to the least evangelized peoples and their involvement. They really get it and want to see some things happen.
Yes, this comes from my lectures, which have concentrated on the least evangelized nations through my story and Anglican Frontier Missions, and through the history of the early church through the mission of Paul. I thought I would emphaisze something different… Right!
First of all they were a bit skeptical about the pillars of the early church missing the point about the Gentile nations. Then they were caught by surprise to learn that when Peter finally went to the Gentile Cornelius’ house, that was at least six years after the Ascension.
Then I knew I was starting to connect. I brought back the Bishop of Kafanchan as example. I had used him several times as an example of church planting, Nigeria style. You might have seen a posting with that title. Bp. Diya does it well – spots the villages without a church, prepares the ground, has the infrastructure set up, makes the right contacts, and then there is a church.
He was Exhibit A of the first three pieces of the Great Commission found in Acts 1:8: You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth.” Bishop Diya holds aces when it comes to Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria.
With him as Exhibit A, they were able to make the connection in their own hears about the first three.
Then I brought him back as Exhibit A for the ends of the earth – with his work on behalf of the Fulani. Also a posting. That helped the lights to go on. There is a difference between villages without a church and unreached ethnic groups. The least evangelized do exist. The numbers for the Fulani put them near the top – 0.025%. The students can relate to this group of 20 million inside Nigeria.
But then the issue of the work among the Fulani. Is it not simply be recruiting Fulani evangelists? No, it is not.
That is when I asked the questions that a Strategy Coordinator asks:
How much can we learn about them? We put up over 20 items.
What are their needs? Concentrated on health, cattle, education, and food.
Who can help with these needs and where are they? Came up with: Fulani themselves, teachers from Nigerian schools, vets and dentists from Jordan and the Ghana, food from Kafanchan with funds from other Nigerian churches and maybe even some from the US, hospital equipment compliments of my son-in-law,, and prayer support from Nigerians as well as praying people from around the world.
That’s when the excitement level picked up. Of course I had primed them with a study of 1 Corinthians 12, all about lots of members of the Body of Christ, the need for imagination, and the wee matter of diplomacy to get everybody to work together well.
But they got it. Then they wanted to know – how can they get to groups like the Fulani? What is being done in the Anglican Province of Nigeria for them? Is there a network that concentrates on Fulani work? And then a list of suggestions and more questions for me and Bishop Inyom when we meet with the Primate on Monday to talk about Fulani, the Anglican work there, St. Stephen’s in Heathsville, and more. "And, by the way, Archbishop,what about infrastructure, etc."
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Bishop Crowther Theological College
The Dean, Zacchaeus Asun, is a longtime friend. He is also the Secretary for Anglican Frontier Missions in Nigeria. I have spent the last ten days with Zacchaeus and the staff and students of Bishop Crowther Theological College.
I preached there last Sunday, the first day for the students. Since I already gave the outline (should you want more, just write me…) I’ll pass on to the Monday morning worship.
Here’s the picture. About 75 men with strong voices singing old chestnuts (“Stand up, stand up for Jesus”…). And doing Morning Prayer. Now how good is that!
One of the seminarians preached, pretty well, I thought. Then right after the service came a routine that reminded me of the proverbial sheep led to the slaughter. The preacher returns to the front of the chapel, with surplice hanging over arm. The Lecturer in Homiletics then proceeded to tell him the little errors he made. Preacher just stood there and took it like a man. Same routine after every morning worship.
One thing they really stress is the distinctives of Anglicanism, especially in conducting morning worship. A bit strong on the “orderliness” of Anglican worship, I thought, but then I am certainly an outsider.
The students are in three classes, dividing into the three years of study there. Actually there is a fourth between years two and three, a year to learn all three of the major languages of Nigeria so they can be posted anywhere.
There is a formalism in their academic world, which is probably more deferential in nature than anything. I open with, “Good morning, students,” and they reply, in unison, “Good morning, teacher.”
I learned that it takes a bit to get discussion going, but once I have opened a hot spot, they really get into it. Most of the time the discussion comes with a student holding up his hand and then standing to speak. Sometimes it’s closer to a free for all. And for full disclosure, yes, I did put some to sleep – more than once.
On one of the days before they arrived, I did a makeover of the library. The pile of books on the discard pile was 6 feet high by the time I finished. There are some very good books there for each department, but only about five feet of books. Constance and I made a contribution to the library. I hope she approves.
The students live in the “hostels”, about eight large dorm rooms with double beds and footlockers for each. They bathe in a common bathing room and have toilets near the hostel. This works - Zacchaeus once told me that African men don’t care where they sleep. Food is cooked in an open-sided kitchen with a staff of four. The meals are Nigerian food that they love. I supplemented my fare with peanut butter and tomatoes. The bell rings at 5 AM for devotions and bathing, chapel at 7:30, breakfast afterwards, then the first lecture.
On Friday night, my last, they held “ a ceremony” for me of thanks and good bye. It was very touching. Members of each class stood and told what my impact had been. Mostly, that was the awareness of the least evangelized and how they want to be a part of that. Then they gave me a shirt that says I am a friend of “The College on the Rock.”
That was my last night of my 66th year. The year closed on a high note.
I preached there last Sunday, the first day for the students. Since I already gave the outline (should you want more, just write me…) I’ll pass on to the Monday morning worship.
Here’s the picture. About 75 men with strong voices singing old chestnuts (“Stand up, stand up for Jesus”…). And doing Morning Prayer. Now how good is that!
One of the seminarians preached, pretty well, I thought. Then right after the service came a routine that reminded me of the proverbial sheep led to the slaughter. The preacher returns to the front of the chapel, with surplice hanging over arm. The Lecturer in Homiletics then proceeded to tell him the little errors he made. Preacher just stood there and took it like a man. Same routine after every morning worship.
One thing they really stress is the distinctives of Anglicanism, especially in conducting morning worship. A bit strong on the “orderliness” of Anglican worship, I thought, but then I am certainly an outsider.
The students are in three classes, dividing into the three years of study there. Actually there is a fourth between years two and three, a year to learn all three of the major languages of Nigeria so they can be posted anywhere.
There is a formalism in their academic world, which is probably more deferential in nature than anything. I open with, “Good morning, students,” and they reply, in unison, “Good morning, teacher.”
I learned that it takes a bit to get discussion going, but once I have opened a hot spot, they really get into it. Most of the time the discussion comes with a student holding up his hand and then standing to speak. Sometimes it’s closer to a free for all. And for full disclosure, yes, I did put some to sleep – more than once.
On one of the days before they arrived, I did a makeover of the library. The pile of books on the discard pile was 6 feet high by the time I finished. There are some very good books there for each department, but only about five feet of books. Constance and I made a contribution to the library. I hope she approves.
The students live in the “hostels”, about eight large dorm rooms with double beds and footlockers for each. They bathe in a common bathing room and have toilets near the hostel. This works - Zacchaeus once told me that African men don’t care where they sleep. Food is cooked in an open-sided kitchen with a staff of four. The meals are Nigerian food that they love. I supplemented my fare with peanut butter and tomatoes. The bell rings at 5 AM for devotions and bathing, chapel at 7:30, breakfast afterwards, then the first lecture.
On Friday night, my last, they held “ a ceremony” for me of thanks and good bye. It was very touching. Members of each class stood and told what my impact had been. Mostly, that was the awareness of the least evangelized and how they want to be a part of that. Then they gave me a shirt that says I am a friend of “The College on the Rock.”
That was my last night of my 66th year. The year closed on a high note.
Life and Electricity in Nigeria
Before beginning this posting – I kid you not – I had gotten into another post on the Bishop of Kafanchan and the ends of the earth. It was really well done. All of a sudden the screen went blank. All was lost. Only to be recovered in a far lesser quality than the original.
That’s life here. NEPA, officially Nigeria Electric Power Association, stands for Never Expect Power Anytime! For me that uncertainty has meant making sure that all four of my electronic gizmos are charged – both batteries of the camera, the computer, and the phone. Happiness is listening to some of my Mozart before going to sleep, with the cable attached, waking up to no power but having the computer charged before it went off.
Sometimes it stays off for over 24 hours. That’s a real bummer. Zacchaeus also likes his tea, so he has a backup stove for that, but the other things that plug into the wall just have to lay there.
Thing is, I’m the only one who notices. The Nigerians, they just keep on as if nothing is wrong. And in fact, they know how to keep on because nothing really has disrupted thieer routine. They cook over wood, they sit outside and chat in the evenings, washing clothes is by hand and in cold water, and – did I mention – my showers have all been with cold water. Life just goes on.
A very welcome sound is the agonizing motor of the ceiling fan as it turns on, signaling that the power is back. Me, I plug things in; the others hardly notice and hardly care.
There is TV. Zacchaeus is a news hound, well, as much as one can be in this electric world. I have watched a couple of news programs with him. One in particular caught my attention. It came on PressTV on two successive nights. In each they blistered the US. Then I caught on – these programs were produced in Iran. The producers disguised that well, with the moderator’s accent being authentic US, and the news clips from our outlets. But the bias! I can only hope that the viewers here can see these programs for what they are.
I always have a shakey Internet connection, meaning that it connects, makes me think I am on for a while, and then disconnects before an e-mail has been sent. Lost! Frustrating!
But not Zacchaeus. Like other Nigerians and like all issues relating to electricity, he doesn’t bother with e-mail. Life goes on, and for them it is normal life.
That’s life here. NEPA, officially Nigeria Electric Power Association, stands for Never Expect Power Anytime! For me that uncertainty has meant making sure that all four of my electronic gizmos are charged – both batteries of the camera, the computer, and the phone. Happiness is listening to some of my Mozart before going to sleep, with the cable attached, waking up to no power but having the computer charged before it went off.
Sometimes it stays off for over 24 hours. That’s a real bummer. Zacchaeus also likes his tea, so he has a backup stove for that, but the other things that plug into the wall just have to lay there.
Thing is, I’m the only one who notices. The Nigerians, they just keep on as if nothing is wrong. And in fact, they know how to keep on because nothing really has disrupted thieer routine. They cook over wood, they sit outside and chat in the evenings, washing clothes is by hand and in cold water, and – did I mention – my showers have all been with cold water. Life just goes on.
A very welcome sound is the agonizing motor of the ceiling fan as it turns on, signaling that the power is back. Me, I plug things in; the others hardly notice and hardly care.
There is TV. Zacchaeus is a news hound, well, as much as one can be in this electric world. I have watched a couple of news programs with him. One in particular caught my attention. It came on PressTV on two successive nights. In each they blistered the US. Then I caught on – these programs were produced in Iran. The producers disguised that well, with the moderator’s accent being authentic US, and the news clips from our outlets. But the bias! I can only hope that the viewers here can see these programs for what they are.
I always have a shakey Internet connection, meaning that it connects, makes me think I am on for a while, and then disconnects before an e-mail has been sent. Lost! Frustrating!
But not Zacchaeus. Like other Nigerians and like all issues relating to electricity, he doesn’t bother with e-mail. Life goes on, and for them it is normal life.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Church Planting, Nigerian Anglican Style
The best way to describe it is just to give a case study.
This will be in the Diocese of Kafanchan, in the state of Kaduna. The bishop, the Rt. Rev.Wm. Diya, has been so diligent in planting churches that now the original diocese is three. And he is still at it.
During my visit I experience the process of seeing a new church planted. Here is how it transpired.
The background - the bishop organizes his diocese around archdeaconries. One of these, a fairly remote area with very few churches, became the focus of the diocesan outreach last year. That meant that all 60 of the priests of the diocese went into the villages of this area to evangelize and plant the seeds for new churches.
One day I went in a van to pick up the archdeacon for this area. He has the brightest smile – reminded me of Harpo Marx! After picking him up we went to a village and turned off the main road to, it turned out, the home of a priest of the diocese whose church in near the village.
Although I cannot remember the name of the priest, I did write down the names of his children: Gideon, Naphtali, Enoch, Salvation, Esther, and Josiah. How ‘bout that!
From his vicarage we drove to the place of destination, the village of Tataure. This was one of the villages that, after the diocesan outreach, the bishop saw as a place that needed a church.
The village had a church already, and the bishop is not one to sheep steal or compete. The issue here was this local church was very clearly syncretistic in its theology. That is, it presented a mixture of African Traditional Religion and Christianity. In that mixture, Christianity comes out distorted, misinterpreted, and powerless.
One of the leaders of the village was a strong believer who saw clearly the problem. The bishop had called him the day before our visit to set up our proposal for a church. We first met with the village chief, whose permission and good will was needed. He gave both.
Actually he also gave us a strange looking (well, to me it looked strange!) drink. He had already talked with great hilarity about food he had in Jerusalem, and how he ate it all by having a small helping. I claimed the same approach to his drink. He got a big laugh out of that.
Then to the home of the bishop’s friend. He had been in the police force for 30 years and now farmed. A genial and hospital man, he eagerly helped in the preparations for the first service, which they agreed would be September 26th.
Once established, the evangelism will begin in earnest. Many of the villagers will come. Many of them will wonder why another church. Some will come from this church, more will come who have not been going at all.
The priest will supervise the local evangelist or catechist who will organize Bible studies, prayer meetings, and times to explain the Gospel.
The vision of the bishop, the week-long visit of the clergy, the faith of the ex-policeman, the infrastructure of the archdeacon and the local priest – all of this contributed to the set in place the groundwork for yet another Anglican church and many new believers.
This will be in the Diocese of Kafanchan, in the state of Kaduna. The bishop, the Rt. Rev.Wm. Diya, has been so diligent in planting churches that now the original diocese is three. And he is still at it.
During my visit I experience the process of seeing a new church planted. Here is how it transpired.
The background - the bishop organizes his diocese around archdeaconries. One of these, a fairly remote area with very few churches, became the focus of the diocesan outreach last year. That meant that all 60 of the priests of the diocese went into the villages of this area to evangelize and plant the seeds for new churches.
One day I went in a van to pick up the archdeacon for this area. He has the brightest smile – reminded me of Harpo Marx! After picking him up we went to a village and turned off the main road to, it turned out, the home of a priest of the diocese whose church in near the village.
Although I cannot remember the name of the priest, I did write down the names of his children: Gideon, Naphtali, Enoch, Salvation, Esther, and Josiah. How ‘bout that!
From his vicarage we drove to the place of destination, the village of Tataure. This was one of the villages that, after the diocesan outreach, the bishop saw as a place that needed a church.
The village had a church already, and the bishop is not one to sheep steal or compete. The issue here was this local church was very clearly syncretistic in its theology. That is, it presented a mixture of African Traditional Religion and Christianity. In that mixture, Christianity comes out distorted, misinterpreted, and powerless.
One of the leaders of the village was a strong believer who saw clearly the problem. The bishop had called him the day before our visit to set up our proposal for a church. We first met with the village chief, whose permission and good will was needed. He gave both.
Actually he also gave us a strange looking (well, to me it looked strange!) drink. He had already talked with great hilarity about food he had in Jerusalem, and how he ate it all by having a small helping. I claimed the same approach to his drink. He got a big laugh out of that.
Then to the home of the bishop’s friend. He had been in the police force for 30 years and now farmed. A genial and hospital man, he eagerly helped in the preparations for the first service, which they agreed would be September 26th.
Once established, the evangelism will begin in earnest. Many of the villagers will come. Many of them will wonder why another church. Some will come from this church, more will come who have not been going at all.
The priest will supervise the local evangelist or catechist who will organize Bible studies, prayer meetings, and times to explain the Gospel.
The vision of the bishop, the week-long visit of the clergy, the faith of the ex-policeman, the infrastructure of the archdeacon and the local priest – all of this contributed to the set in place the groundwork for yet another Anglican church and many new believers.
My “Lectures”
When a white man appears at the theological college in Nigeria, the students think something special is coming. Whether that proves true or not, I certainly have the expectation laid on me.
First was the sermon. The first day of seminary, first year for about 40 of them. Text – Do not abandon your first love. Examples of those who have, examples of those who held on and how God blessed them, then how to keep your first love. Not bad.
Then the lectures. I wrote Jeff what my plan was – great detail, day by day, four tracks. My story leading to church planting and evangelism (AFM); the grand sweep of the Bible with the mission emphasis; Philippians as example of Paul’s writing containing emphasis on church planting; Acts to show the growth of the church to the Gentile nations, in spite of internal resistance. Pretty good.
At the start, after getting into my story, the questions started. Lots. All over the place. Real inquiry and curiosity. Good questions.
All of a sudden, time to adjust my plan. Never got to parts 3 or 4!
That was yesterday. The prime piece was the Fulani, the huge group of nomads in Nigeria. 20 million, with 5,000 Christians. 0.025%. Lots of time talking about all the various ministries needed to plant a secure church. They came up with two – evangelist and translation. I pushed with the model of the body from 1 Cor. 12, many parts that can be part of the ministry.
We ended up with over 20 parts of the full outreach to the Fulani. A very engaging exercise. Certainly opened their eyes. They even saw three or four roles for a while man from the US, several roles for Fulani Christians, and – the best part – at least a dozen roles for them who live outside the Fulani life. Worthwhile.
Tomorrow I will review the training done in Nigeria by AFM here and AFM US for Nigerians to leave Nigeria for the ends of the earth.
Who knows? Could be some of these guys will get an idea that never would have dreamed of before.
First was the sermon. The first day of seminary, first year for about 40 of them. Text – Do not abandon your first love. Examples of those who have, examples of those who held on and how God blessed them, then how to keep your first love. Not bad.
Then the lectures. I wrote Jeff what my plan was – great detail, day by day, four tracks. My story leading to church planting and evangelism (AFM); the grand sweep of the Bible with the mission emphasis; Philippians as example of Paul’s writing containing emphasis on church planting; Acts to show the growth of the church to the Gentile nations, in spite of internal resistance. Pretty good.
At the start, after getting into my story, the questions started. Lots. All over the place. Real inquiry and curiosity. Good questions.
All of a sudden, time to adjust my plan. Never got to parts 3 or 4!
That was yesterday. The prime piece was the Fulani, the huge group of nomads in Nigeria. 20 million, with 5,000 Christians. 0.025%. Lots of time talking about all the various ministries needed to plant a secure church. They came up with two – evangelist and translation. I pushed with the model of the body from 1 Cor. 12, many parts that can be part of the ministry.
We ended up with over 20 parts of the full outreach to the Fulani. A very engaging exercise. Certainly opened their eyes. They even saw three or four roles for a while man from the US, several roles for Fulani Christians, and – the best part – at least a dozen roles for them who live outside the Fulani life. Worthwhile.
Tomorrow I will review the training done in Nigeria by AFM here and AFM US for Nigerians to leave Nigeria for the ends of the earth.
Who knows? Could be some of these guys will get an idea that never would have dreamed of before.
5. Checks on my worldview
Nothing like distance and another culture to bring out one’s worldview. I think I started another posting that way. This one will not be philosophical. Here I will list a few of the checks I have had on the deeply held assumptions of my worldview.
1. “Everyone wants to go for the gold.” While that comes out of the Olympics, it can fit most situations where competition, or at least aspiration for more, plays a part.
The first gentle nudge away from this came in Nice, France, during a visit with a cousin there. Etienne was observing that you don’t find as many outstanding French athletes as we have in the US because the drive that pushes us doesn’t drive them. That would be fame, money, and other tangible forms of achieving the summit.
A friend with French connections living on the Northern Neck wasn’t so sure he agreed, but nevertheless, there must be some truth to what Etienne said.
So is it a universal virtue that we should always strive for more? Or can contentment come at a lower lever of things?
My conclusion is that this is a distinctly western concept. Some in other lands buy into it, but most can walk away from many of the things we assume one needs for living well.
2. Time or experience, schedules or relationships. Yes, I’ve been in Africa for a month, and I have seen the priority of experience over time, of relationship over schedules. What is lost, I find myself asking, if time is put aside for a gathering or a conversation that will stay with me for a long time?
3. “Subdue the earth” can shift into “control the elements and conquer space”. There is a greater ease with the earth that lacks sidewalks and new paint here than we would tolerate at home. Furthermore, I see that is nothing more than what one is used to, not a matter of sloth or a matter of elevated taste.
4. The importance of ancestors. The individualism of the West severs relationships with our ancestors almost immediately at their death. My uncle, John Page Williams, used to set his wry smile and refer to the Shintoism of the Williams clan. We do hold a liking for the stories of our departed. In Africa and most other parts of the world, the life of one’s ancestors is a piece of life that continues. Some of the manifestations of this are carry-overs of spirit worship, but other manifestations are merely healthy ways of honoring the generations of those who bore us.
5. Civility and confrontation. In Asia this would come under “face”. There is a modesty, kindness, forebearance, and silence outside the West where we choose to express ourselves. Manners here are far more restrained and temperate than we would be in similar circumstances. Again, our individualism feels free to assert itself.
I see this disparity in two theatres. The first is in air travel. Flight attendants from lands outside the US are quiet, polite, and attentive. US flight attendants are loud, chatty, and distracted. The other theatre is the international exchanges on theological differences within the Anglican Church. The more prominent US figures usually have only slight restraint on free expression of opinions. Others from our side of the Atlantic are quite adept at parliamentary machinations and push on. Those figures of color in these exchanges manifest their set of manners that let things go by, differing thoughts unexpressed, and civility shown. The conclusions each comes away with are often quite different.
1. “Everyone wants to go for the gold.” While that comes out of the Olympics, it can fit most situations where competition, or at least aspiration for more, plays a part.
The first gentle nudge away from this came in Nice, France, during a visit with a cousin there. Etienne was observing that you don’t find as many outstanding French athletes as we have in the US because the drive that pushes us doesn’t drive them. That would be fame, money, and other tangible forms of achieving the summit.
A friend with French connections living on the Northern Neck wasn’t so sure he agreed, but nevertheless, there must be some truth to what Etienne said.
So is it a universal virtue that we should always strive for more? Or can contentment come at a lower lever of things?
My conclusion is that this is a distinctly western concept. Some in other lands buy into it, but most can walk away from many of the things we assume one needs for living well.
2. Time or experience, schedules or relationships. Yes, I’ve been in Africa for a month, and I have seen the priority of experience over time, of relationship over schedules. What is lost, I find myself asking, if time is put aside for a gathering or a conversation that will stay with me for a long time?
3. “Subdue the earth” can shift into “control the elements and conquer space”. There is a greater ease with the earth that lacks sidewalks and new paint here than we would tolerate at home. Furthermore, I see that is nothing more than what one is used to, not a matter of sloth or a matter of elevated taste.
4. The importance of ancestors. The individualism of the West severs relationships with our ancestors almost immediately at their death. My uncle, John Page Williams, used to set his wry smile and refer to the Shintoism of the Williams clan. We do hold a liking for the stories of our departed. In Africa and most other parts of the world, the life of one’s ancestors is a piece of life that continues. Some of the manifestations of this are carry-overs of spirit worship, but other manifestations are merely healthy ways of honoring the generations of those who bore us.
5. Civility and confrontation. In Asia this would come under “face”. There is a modesty, kindness, forebearance, and silence outside the West where we choose to express ourselves. Manners here are far more restrained and temperate than we would be in similar circumstances. Again, our individualism feels free to assert itself.
I see this disparity in two theatres. The first is in air travel. Flight attendants from lands outside the US are quiet, polite, and attentive. US flight attendants are loud, chatty, and distracted. The other theatre is the international exchanges on theological differences within the Anglican Church. The more prominent US figures usually have only slight restraint on free expression of opinions. Others from our side of the Atlantic are quite adept at parliamentary machinations and push on. Those figures of color in these exchanges manifest their set of manners that let things go by, differing thoughts unexpressed, and civility shown. The conclusions each comes away with are often quite different.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
4. “The Gods Must be Crazy” – or are they?
Great movie! Got it all – romance, humor, adventure, Africa – and a very astute analysis of cross-cultural differences.
The key role, as it turns out, is the lab assistant, an African who knows the ways of the white man and also understands the worldview of the bushman.
For the bushman life is simple, orderly, predictable, and all under the providence of the gods. Children are the children of the village. Crops are the food of everyone. There is no individual property. The common understanding is that everything belongs to everyone. Around that moral code life continued with great harmony and peace.
So when a bird in the sky drops a coke bottle, and fighting over it brings hostilities within the village, he resolves to return the bottle to the gods. Along the way he runs into the ways of strange people, and that gets him in trouble.
In his trek, naturally, he gets hungry and looks for food. Happily he spots a goat that is tied up, it turns out, near a police station. He speaks to the people in his language and thanks them for providing the goat for him. He addresses the goat with thanks for his life before killing it. Then he eats his meal.
Before the meal is over, of course, the bushman is arrested and put in a cell.
Then comes the important role of the lab assistant. He has learned the language of the Bushmen and knows their ways. He hears of the goat theft and immediately sees it for what it is – a clash of benevolent, enlightened, and indispensable worldviews.
The one, that of the bushman, comes from the basic African sense of community mores, of shared property, of compassion for the needy, and of welcome for the stranger. The other, that of the land’s judicial system, comes from the rights of the individual, the prohibition against theft of another’s property, the right to a fair trial based on these laws, and the consequence of punishment when the laws are not kept.
So who is at fault? Which worldview should win over the other? And on what grounds? Is one worldview flawed? Where? Why?
And if one worldview should win over the other, how do the winners go about dominating the people of the other? What should they do when the losers endeavor to maintain their own ways? How do the losers leave behind their old ways? How do the winners make sure they have left everything?
Or - can the language be changed, the attitudes adjusted, patience introduced, humility presented, listening and learning demonstrated, and respect be the main thing that is sought and gained?
And that by both parties.
The key role, as it turns out, is the lab assistant, an African who knows the ways of the white man and also understands the worldview of the bushman.
For the bushman life is simple, orderly, predictable, and all under the providence of the gods. Children are the children of the village. Crops are the food of everyone. There is no individual property. The common understanding is that everything belongs to everyone. Around that moral code life continued with great harmony and peace.
So when a bird in the sky drops a coke bottle, and fighting over it brings hostilities within the village, he resolves to return the bottle to the gods. Along the way he runs into the ways of strange people, and that gets him in trouble.
In his trek, naturally, he gets hungry and looks for food. Happily he spots a goat that is tied up, it turns out, near a police station. He speaks to the people in his language and thanks them for providing the goat for him. He addresses the goat with thanks for his life before killing it. Then he eats his meal.
Before the meal is over, of course, the bushman is arrested and put in a cell.
Then comes the important role of the lab assistant. He has learned the language of the Bushmen and knows their ways. He hears of the goat theft and immediately sees it for what it is – a clash of benevolent, enlightened, and indispensable worldviews.
The one, that of the bushman, comes from the basic African sense of community mores, of shared property, of compassion for the needy, and of welcome for the stranger. The other, that of the land’s judicial system, comes from the rights of the individual, the prohibition against theft of another’s property, the right to a fair trial based on these laws, and the consequence of punishment when the laws are not kept.
So who is at fault? Which worldview should win over the other? And on what grounds? Is one worldview flawed? Where? Why?
And if one worldview should win over the other, how do the winners go about dominating the people of the other? What should they do when the losers endeavor to maintain their own ways? How do the losers leave behind their old ways? How do the winners make sure they have left everything?
Or - can the language be changed, the attitudes adjusted, patience introduced, humility presented, listening and learning demonstrated, and respect be the main thing that is sought and gained?
And that by both parties.
3. Hephzibah House
If you ever want a cheap place to stay in New York city, try Hephzibah House. It’s only $25 a night, right near Central Park at about West 80th street. Four blocks away is the Amsterdam Pool Hall, one block to a Tibetan store, and in the vicinity of several reasonable restaurants.
The name Hephzibah comes in Isaiah where the Lord says that the land will no more be desolate but a delight to the Lord.
When the missions committee of Grace Church, New York, began a home for departing missionaries, this is the name they gave it. How appropriate. These people were sure a delight to the Lord.
When Constance and I have stayed there, we have always been struck by the pictures at the landings of the four-storey home. Each landing gives a different category of personnel. Some were women, some men, some going east to China, some south to Brazil. Some of the pictures showed the ships at the New York wharves and the missionaries in their farewells to families.
Truly they are touching scenes on those walls, inspiring.
They went, if one may attribute uniform qualities to each of them, with a love for the Lord, a love for the people in their lands of destination, a thorough-going study of the Word, and probably some training in medicine, in music, and in linguistics.
They also took with them an incomplete view of the cosmology. This left them unprepared for meeting with faiths that saw their god in stones and wind, in statues and hills.
The reactions must have been multifaceted. For some they looked the other way and preached the Gospel. Others vociferously condemned and proclaimed truth. Some showed them as the source of false wisdom and pointed to the only wise God. Others moved into power encounters where the place of the gods was destroyed and the church of the living God constructed.
Each of these reactions can be found in the Bible and in the early history of the church. The difference is that those then knew what they were encountering, those more recently had received a world reduced to two tiers – the spiritual and the material – by the residual influence of Descartes and the Enlightenment.
In some of the lands where the ships from Hephzibah people landed, they absorbed the best of the teaching and themselves injected the truths to manage the paganism of their past. Other lands had such a deep life of the spirit world that the shallow cosmos of the western missionary has left wounds, distortions, resentment, and the need to re-educate. That was the legacy Achebe recorded in his narrative.
The name Hephzibah comes in Isaiah where the Lord says that the land will no more be desolate but a delight to the Lord.
When the missions committee of Grace Church, New York, began a home for departing missionaries, this is the name they gave it. How appropriate. These people were sure a delight to the Lord.
When Constance and I have stayed there, we have always been struck by the pictures at the landings of the four-storey home. Each landing gives a different category of personnel. Some were women, some men, some going east to China, some south to Brazil. Some of the pictures showed the ships at the New York wharves and the missionaries in their farewells to families.
Truly they are touching scenes on those walls, inspiring.
They went, if one may attribute uniform qualities to each of them, with a love for the Lord, a love for the people in their lands of destination, a thorough-going study of the Word, and probably some training in medicine, in music, and in linguistics.
They also took with them an incomplete view of the cosmology. This left them unprepared for meeting with faiths that saw their god in stones and wind, in statues and hills.
The reactions must have been multifaceted. For some they looked the other way and preached the Gospel. Others vociferously condemned and proclaimed truth. Some showed them as the source of false wisdom and pointed to the only wise God. Others moved into power encounters where the place of the gods was destroyed and the church of the living God constructed.
Each of these reactions can be found in the Bible and in the early history of the church. The difference is that those then knew what they were encountering, those more recently had received a world reduced to two tiers – the spiritual and the material – by the residual influence of Descartes and the Enlightenment.
In some of the lands where the ships from Hephzibah people landed, they absorbed the best of the teaching and themselves injected the truths to manage the paganism of their past. Other lands had such a deep life of the spirit world that the shallow cosmos of the western missionary has left wounds, distortions, resentment, and the need to re-educate. That was the legacy Achebe recorded in his narrative.
2. “Paganism” and African Traditional Religion
For many years the words “pagan” and “paganism” took on a decidedly primitive – meaning negative – cast to them. This religion was simplistic, one-dimensional, and very confined in its scope. It bore no resemblance to reality and kept the followers under a spell that maintained fearful control. The gods were trees, mountains, rivers, rocks, to which the followers attributed power. They were false gods, idols, and were a stench to the one true living God.
Having read Mircea Eliade (Is that a name or what!!!) in my years wandering around Zen and such at the University, I knew there was more to this. David Barrett has done a great deal of research on these religions. His conclusions bore out my suspicions.
If paganism means religions like those of African Primitive Religion, then we are in the realm of very sophisticated patterns of faith. Even when one tribe is in isolation from another, the similarities across the board reflect a religious matrix as full and as comprehensive as the most advanced expression of Christianity.
To begin with, these religions are ancient, as are the tribes. The tribes have carried the legends of their origins, the influences on how they behave, the stories of their heroes from generation to generation. With this oral history has come their faith story. They know who made them and why he created them the way he did. They believe in God and they believe that their god has many helpers. These are the spirits, and there are as many spirits as there are phases of life.
There are gods and rituals for planting, for childbirth, for passing through puberty, for revenge, for loss of a crop, for the time of rain, and the list goes on. In fact the list is as long as are the momentous phases, epochs, and stages of the life of the tribe.
If any religion is interwoven through all of life, this most evidently is. One result of that is the absence of the secular and the profane, of the spiritual and the non-spiritual. In fact all of life is of one cloth – no times designated as vacations, or work, or play. Life is life and all comes under the overarching canopy of their very full and comprehensive religion.
We read of this in the books of Alexander McCall Smith. But for a deeper look into the satisfaction of these religions, read Achebe. In his book, Things Fall Apart, he portrays many different stages of life and life’s interactions. In each case the gods and their will come through.
Having read Mircea Eliade (Is that a name or what!!!) in my years wandering around Zen and such at the University, I knew there was more to this. David Barrett has done a great deal of research on these religions. His conclusions bore out my suspicions.
If paganism means religions like those of African Primitive Religion, then we are in the realm of very sophisticated patterns of faith. Even when one tribe is in isolation from another, the similarities across the board reflect a religious matrix as full and as comprehensive as the most advanced expression of Christianity.
To begin with, these religions are ancient, as are the tribes. The tribes have carried the legends of their origins, the influences on how they behave, the stories of their heroes from generation to generation. With this oral history has come their faith story. They know who made them and why he created them the way he did. They believe in God and they believe that their god has many helpers. These are the spirits, and there are as many spirits as there are phases of life.
There are gods and rituals for planting, for childbirth, for passing through puberty, for revenge, for loss of a crop, for the time of rain, and the list goes on. In fact the list is as long as are the momentous phases, epochs, and stages of the life of the tribe.
If any religion is interwoven through all of life, this most evidently is. One result of that is the absence of the secular and the profane, of the spiritual and the non-spiritual. In fact all of life is of one cloth – no times designated as vacations, or work, or play. Life is life and all comes under the overarching canopy of their very full and comprehensive religion.
We read of this in the books of Alexander McCall Smith. But for a deeper look into the satisfaction of these religions, read Achebe. In his book, Things Fall Apart, he portrays many different stages of life and life’s interactions. In each case the gods and their will come through.
1. Checking my worldview
There’s nothing like distance and a different culture to give a perspective on one’s closely held assumptions. I have been accumulating ideas about this and will be covering them for the next few posts.
The fundamental idea is that not everyone in the world thinks like us, assuming the home turf for this blog is the US. We know that, of course, but the implications of that differing vantage can be staggering.
Books. These posts will refer to books. Let me mention them.
Paul Hiebert’s Anthropological Insights for Missionaries. He gives a long and incisive chapter on the western world-view and how that looks to other cultures outside the west.
Things Fall Apart, by the Nigerian Nobel prizewinner, Achebe. That book drew two very different responses from me – an amazing insight into African Traditional Religion, and an appalling take on white missionaries.
The Gospel in an African Context has provided many helpful concepts, ones which provide a framework for understanding Achebe’s missionaries.
John Milton’s Paradise Lost. An engrossing rendering of the first three chapters of Genesis through the twelve books of this epic poem. Milton offers a clear grasp of the powers and echelons of evil.
Let me give you the thread. It’s about gods, spirits, ancestors, evil powers, and other realities that are part of the African worldview. For years I have heard how these have been pushed out of the western worldview. Being in Africa for five weeks, reading these books, discussing and listening to these ideas – all this has given me a sharper focus on the question, and maybe a slightly clearer understanding of the problems.
The fundamental idea is that not everyone in the world thinks like us, assuming the home turf for this blog is the US. We know that, of course, but the implications of that differing vantage can be staggering.
Books. These posts will refer to books. Let me mention them.
Paul Hiebert’s Anthropological Insights for Missionaries. He gives a long and incisive chapter on the western world-view and how that looks to other cultures outside the west.
Things Fall Apart, by the Nigerian Nobel prizewinner, Achebe. That book drew two very different responses from me – an amazing insight into African Traditional Religion, and an appalling take on white missionaries.
The Gospel in an African Context has provided many helpful concepts, ones which provide a framework for understanding Achebe’s missionaries.
John Milton’s Paradise Lost. An engrossing rendering of the first three chapters of Genesis through the twelve books of this epic poem. Milton offers a clear grasp of the powers and echelons of evil.
Let me give you the thread. It’s about gods, spirits, ancestors, evil powers, and other realities that are part of the African worldview. For years I have heard how these have been pushed out of the western worldview. Being in Africa for five weeks, reading these books, discussing and listening to these ideas – all this has given me a sharper focus on the question, and maybe a slightly clearer understanding of the problems.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
I walked into a stucco wall.
It was pitch black in my room. That there was a light on in the hallway didn’t wake me to the possibility of turning on the light in my room. I was and remained quite disoriented.
Not surprising, since this was yet another strange room where I was staying. By this time I was in Kafanchan, land of the Fulani, land without the violence of Bauchi. The good bishop had decided to put me in a hotel, one that was quite near his place. I was to be there three nights. This was the second one.
Some time during the night I awoke to make a trip to the bathroom. I remembered from the night before that the door to the right of the bed was not the door to the bathroom but to the hallway. I had realized my error in time, in case you were wondering. So this night I had the presence of mind to go to the left of the bed and follow the wall to where it turns for the door to the bathroom.
No problem. Orientation in hotel rooms in the middle of the night with a slight sense of urgency and the memory of past errors has never been a problem for me.
I found the wall back from the left side of the bed – right where it ought to have been. I traced it with my hand from left to right. When I felt the controls for the fan (and the light switch!) I knew I had come to the edge where the wall turns away from the bed for the door to the bathroom. One step forward and then step right into the bathroom.
One step forward about three feet too soon. And why did it have to be a stucco wall? That hurt!
Even then I couldn’t find the door I wanted. I felt the door for the closet, but it wasn’t supposed to be where it was. Finally I realized what my hand had touched and flipped up the light switch.
Like I said, orientation in hotel rooms in the night comes as no problem for me.
In the bathroom in the light I saw that the darn wall had drawn blood. Not much but it did take a bit of swabbing.
The next morning, traveling with two bishops to my next stop, they asked about the cut on my forehead. I told them, sheepishly. Their humor, in response, was only slightly disguised as they also offered consolation. Unlike you, gentle reader, who, I am sure, is entirely in sympathy and without any hint of hilarity at my grievous misfortune.
:-)
Not surprising, since this was yet another strange room where I was staying. By this time I was in Kafanchan, land of the Fulani, land without the violence of Bauchi. The good bishop had decided to put me in a hotel, one that was quite near his place. I was to be there three nights. This was the second one.
Some time during the night I awoke to make a trip to the bathroom. I remembered from the night before that the door to the right of the bed was not the door to the bathroom but to the hallway. I had realized my error in time, in case you were wondering. So this night I had the presence of mind to go to the left of the bed and follow the wall to where it turns for the door to the bathroom.
No problem. Orientation in hotel rooms in the middle of the night with a slight sense of urgency and the memory of past errors has never been a problem for me.
I found the wall back from the left side of the bed – right where it ought to have been. I traced it with my hand from left to right. When I felt the controls for the fan (and the light switch!) I knew I had come to the edge where the wall turns away from the bed for the door to the bathroom. One step forward and then step right into the bathroom.
One step forward about three feet too soon. And why did it have to be a stucco wall? That hurt!
Even then I couldn’t find the door I wanted. I felt the door for the closet, but it wasn’t supposed to be where it was. Finally I realized what my hand had touched and flipped up the light switch.
Like I said, orientation in hotel rooms in the night comes as no problem for me.
In the bathroom in the light I saw that the darn wall had drawn blood. Not much but it did take a bit of swabbing.
The next morning, traveling with two bishops to my next stop, they asked about the cut on my forehead. I told them, sheepishly. Their humor, in response, was only slightly disguised as they also offered consolation. Unlike you, gentle reader, who, I am sure, is entirely in sympathy and without any hint of hilarity at my grievous misfortune.
:-)
Sunday, September 12, 2010
One Great Hour
That’s what I wrote in my notes after the visit to Afana.
It was my second visit there. In 2008 Lucy and Jim Logan and I saw the place and heard the bishop, the Rt. Rev. Wm. Diya, outline his plans. Now I was seeing it two years later and through the eyes of the Fulani pastor, the Rev. Saleh Isa Danfulani, who was moving the vision to reality.
Afana is the name of the land that the Diocese of Kafanchan has purchased and where they are preparing a safe place for villages of Fulani Christians to come and develop a new life.
Cattle will always be at the center of the life of a Fulani, but Afana will enable them to keep a smaller herd yet have a larger life.
The parcel of land, about three-quarters of a mile square, was purchased in 2006 after the bishop had surveyed several other pieces. This tract was chosen for its size, the stream going through, the government road, the hills for grazing, the vastness for several villages, and the varied landscape for the specific uses anticipated.
The mill will grind their corn, the food processing plant will make yogurt, the laboratory will develop drugs from cattle urine, the veterinary clinic will care for the sick cattle, the orchard will provide foods, the paddock will keep their pigs, the school will provide education for the children, and the chapel will be their place of worship. The vast land will provide ample grazing for the many herds that will be there.
Pastor Saleh knew where each of these would be located. As he described the many plans, he pointed to precisely where each function would be located. Already the school and housing for staff is built, two fine structures awaiting pupils.
Two developments indicate the blessing of the hand of God on this. First, the government recently rebuilt the road to where it is a solid and wide road for the vehicles coming to serve Afana. This includes a new bridge over the stream. All this, of course, at no cost to the diocese.
The second involves the annual Fulani Christian conference. This usually is held the first Thursday in March in Jos. I recall seeing the place on a previous visit there. Because Jos has become such a hot spot, the committee decided they needed a new location for the conference. They have chosen Afana.
That means that on the new dates, October 14-18, over 300 Fulani Christian leaders will be at Afana for their annual conference, with indication that this will become their permanent place of meeting.
For St. Stephen's and our interest, this gives much encouragement as well as specific prayer concerns.
It was my second visit there. In 2008 Lucy and Jim Logan and I saw the place and heard the bishop, the Rt. Rev. Wm. Diya, outline his plans. Now I was seeing it two years later and through the eyes of the Fulani pastor, the Rev. Saleh Isa Danfulani, who was moving the vision to reality.
Afana is the name of the land that the Diocese of Kafanchan has purchased and where they are preparing a safe place for villages of Fulani Christians to come and develop a new life.
Cattle will always be at the center of the life of a Fulani, but Afana will enable them to keep a smaller herd yet have a larger life.
The parcel of land, about three-quarters of a mile square, was purchased in 2006 after the bishop had surveyed several other pieces. This tract was chosen for its size, the stream going through, the government road, the hills for grazing, the vastness for several villages, and the varied landscape for the specific uses anticipated.
The mill will grind their corn, the food processing plant will make yogurt, the laboratory will develop drugs from cattle urine, the veterinary clinic will care for the sick cattle, the orchard will provide foods, the paddock will keep their pigs, the school will provide education for the children, and the chapel will be their place of worship. The vast land will provide ample grazing for the many herds that will be there.
Pastor Saleh knew where each of these would be located. As he described the many plans, he pointed to precisely where each function would be located. Already the school and housing for staff is built, two fine structures awaiting pupils.
Two developments indicate the blessing of the hand of God on this. First, the government recently rebuilt the road to where it is a solid and wide road for the vehicles coming to serve Afana. This includes a new bridge over the stream. All this, of course, at no cost to the diocese.
The second involves the annual Fulani Christian conference. This usually is held the first Thursday in March in Jos. I recall seeing the place on a previous visit there. Because Jos has become such a hot spot, the committee decided they needed a new location for the conference. They have chosen Afana.
That means that on the new dates, October 14-18, over 300 Fulani Christian leaders will be at Afana for their annual conference, with indication that this will become their permanent place of meeting.
For St. Stephen's and our interest, this gives much encouragement as well as specific prayer concerns.
“When you can build a church on the back of a camel…
Then you have made a church for the nomad.” That was a remark that a nomad made to Malcolm Hunter many years ago. Hunter is one of the most experienced missionaries to nomads around. He knew this man was right.
Nomads are a gift to the church. Just when we think we have come upon the best approach, just when we are reaching new numbers of church plants, just when we think we can see spiritual breakthroughs, we come up to nomads waiting for a church on the back of a camel.
With the 25 million Fulani in West Africa, the same number of Hausa, add in the Shuwa, Kanuri, and Baggara. Then swell the number with the Qashqa’i and other nomads of Iran, the Pushtuns and Marwari of South Asia, you’ve probably got over 100 million nomads waiting for the church to work with them.
So much for a triumphalist attitude in mission. So much for spiritual pride. 100 million unevangelized nomads took care of that.
OK, besides deflating our pride, what is to be done? Several things.
First of all, don’t look the other way. God is calling us to them just as much as He is calling us to yet another monochrome church just like us.
Secondly, nomads respond to their needs being met as much as any group. They do have significant needs, beginning with health care. In lieu of doctors or nurses traveling with them, clinics that can serve their permanent settlements can be set up. Clinics with vets would be more appreciated than clinics for people. Local churches that can send out teachers for the weeks the women and children are in their settlements will draw large numbers of children.
Third, and inevitably, some people will be called to live among them, get to know them, earn their trust. Time, this takes time. But witnessing to a Fulani must be done in secret. In fact leading a Fulani to follow Jesus must be done very quietly. Persecution always follows.
And so the fourth piece is protection for the new converts. If a Fulani man is known to have left Islam to follow Jesus, the others of his clan will remove his cattle, maybe take away his wife and children, and see that he has no way to regain his herd. For this man and the others like him, the church that has brought him to faith in Christ also must bring him out of his clan to a safe place to continue his life.
This requires considerable planning and commitment of resources by Christian leaders, and that is what I found one afternoon for one great hour.
Nomads are a gift to the church. Just when we think we have come upon the best approach, just when we are reaching new numbers of church plants, just when we think we can see spiritual breakthroughs, we come up to nomads waiting for a church on the back of a camel.
With the 25 million Fulani in West Africa, the same number of Hausa, add in the Shuwa, Kanuri, and Baggara. Then swell the number with the Qashqa’i and other nomads of Iran, the Pushtuns and Marwari of South Asia, you’ve probably got over 100 million nomads waiting for the church to work with them.
So much for a triumphalist attitude in mission. So much for spiritual pride. 100 million unevangelized nomads took care of that.
OK, besides deflating our pride, what is to be done? Several things.
First of all, don’t look the other way. God is calling us to them just as much as He is calling us to yet another monochrome church just like us.
Secondly, nomads respond to their needs being met as much as any group. They do have significant needs, beginning with health care. In lieu of doctors or nurses traveling with them, clinics that can serve their permanent settlements can be set up. Clinics with vets would be more appreciated than clinics for people. Local churches that can send out teachers for the weeks the women and children are in their settlements will draw large numbers of children.
Third, and inevitably, some people will be called to live among them, get to know them, earn their trust. Time, this takes time. But witnessing to a Fulani must be done in secret. In fact leading a Fulani to follow Jesus must be done very quietly. Persecution always follows.
And so the fourth piece is protection for the new converts. If a Fulani man is known to have left Islam to follow Jesus, the others of his clan will remove his cattle, maybe take away his wife and children, and see that he has no way to regain his herd. For this man and the others like him, the church that has brought him to faith in Christ also must bring him out of his clan to a safe place to continue his life.
This requires considerable planning and commitment of resources by Christian leaders, and that is what I found one afternoon for one great hour.
The Fulani of Nigeria.
That would be 20 million of them living inside Nigeria. Of course no one is counting; after all these are nomads who easily move 200 miles in a matter of four weeks and who know not international borders nor possess passports.
Of the 20 million Fulani, there are about 4,000 Christians. After careful counting of zeroes, I came up with one Christian for every 5,000 Fulani. That makes them 0.025% Christian. For a population of, say, Richmond, Virginia, with about 1 million in the surrounding areas, that would mean 200 Christians.
The Fulani have caught my attention as an unreached people group with whom Anglican/Episcopal congregations can have access. The reason is that the Anglican Province of Nigeria is taking the lead in evangelism among this group. Today I stood with four people who form a strong link between them and us. More on “that great hour” in another posting.
What is life like for the nomadic Fulani? Well, for starters they do a lot of walking. Over the 200 miles from Katsina to Lokoja – the grazing route of one of the local clans – the men know the geography intimately. Some use stars, but mostly they just know the paths. They know where the good grazing lands are and where the farmers are who should be avoided.
Their diet consists mainly of ground millet that is smoked over a fire. Along with this they find mushrooms, honey, fruit, and edible roots.
Sometimes they travel with their families, setting up temporary huts for two or three weeks. At other times they leave their women and children with provision in permanent settlements while the men are away for long times with their herds.
Like most other nomads in most other countries, the government shows them little if any favor. They are seen as nuisances, bothering farmers, causing hostilities between rival clans, and not bothering to vote. So why bother with them?
Their cattle are their most prized possessions. Fulani men are attached to them and value them above everything else. Yes, above their wives. They will do anything for the welfare and protection of their herds. The cattle come before anything else in their lives.
The bishop who was describing this to me then remarked that he has learned from the Fulani what Jesus meant when He called Himself the Good Shepherd. The Fulani shepherds showed him what Jesus really meant when He called Himself the Good Shepherd.
Of the 20 million Fulani, there are about 4,000 Christians. After careful counting of zeroes, I came up with one Christian for every 5,000 Fulani. That makes them 0.025% Christian. For a population of, say, Richmond, Virginia, with about 1 million in the surrounding areas, that would mean 200 Christians.
The Fulani have caught my attention as an unreached people group with whom Anglican/Episcopal congregations can have access. The reason is that the Anglican Province of Nigeria is taking the lead in evangelism among this group. Today I stood with four people who form a strong link between them and us. More on “that great hour” in another posting.
What is life like for the nomadic Fulani? Well, for starters they do a lot of walking. Over the 200 miles from Katsina to Lokoja – the grazing route of one of the local clans – the men know the geography intimately. Some use stars, but mostly they just know the paths. They know where the good grazing lands are and where the farmers are who should be avoided.
Their diet consists mainly of ground millet that is smoked over a fire. Along with this they find mushrooms, honey, fruit, and edible roots.
Sometimes they travel with their families, setting up temporary huts for two or three weeks. At other times they leave their women and children with provision in permanent settlements while the men are away for long times with their herds.
Like most other nomads in most other countries, the government shows them little if any favor. They are seen as nuisances, bothering farmers, causing hostilities between rival clans, and not bothering to vote. So why bother with them?
Their cattle are their most prized possessions. Fulani men are attached to them and value them above everything else. Yes, above their wives. They will do anything for the welfare and protection of their herds. The cattle come before anything else in their lives.
The bishop who was describing this to me then remarked that he has learned from the Fulani what Jesus meant when He called Himself the Good Shepherd. The Fulani shepherds showed him what Jesus really meant when He called Himself the Good Shepherd.
A Slight and Prudent Detour
My reason for wanting to go to Bauchi is simple. Fulani live there in many permanent and temporary settlements. The Anglican Church there has very determined and strategic outreach to them. I want to see what they are doing and learn what sort of support St. Stephen’s Anglican Church in Heathsville can offer.
My plan, actually my bishop’s plan, was to spend time with Bp. Tula, go out to some of the camps, see the clinics and mission stations he has planted, and meet some of the leaders. In fact Bishop Inyom and I were talking about the visit the evening before, when Bishop Tula called about the prison battle.
Immediately all three of us could foresee the possibility of a conflagration throughout northern Nigeria. That’s because of past events, current events, and a spark.
The past events:
1. Remember the editor in a local paper in Denmark who decided to print some cartoons of Mohammed? Remember the storm that caused? The worst damage was in Maiduguri, the state in the northeast corner of Nigeria. Several Catholic churches were burned and pastors killed.
2. The Boko Haram uprising of July 2009 was not confined to Bauchi. Jos, in Plateau State next to Bauchi, saw riots and fighting aimed at the Christians.
3. In January of this year another Muslim group rioted in Jos with many Christian deaths.
Current events:
1. Was this pastor in Florida just wanting to make news? Well, he did, all over the world, with special attention throughout the Muslim world. We heard about fears of retaliation to our troops in Afghanistan. Anglican leaders here were fearful of reprisals at the very local levels.
2. The month of fasting for Muslims, Ramadan, end with the new moon this week. In Nigeria and Saudi Arabia the decision was for September 10th. Other parts of the Islamic world decided on September 9th. Take your pick, Eid al Fitr is a day of high Muslim pride, vulnerable to a spark to set in motion a rampage.
3. This comes on the ninth anniversary of 9/11.
President Obama has worked hard and skillfully to put a wedge between the Muslim extremists and the moderates. The Christian church is slowly moving to a greater awareness of the presence of Muslims around them and the need to build relationships for outreach. All this could be undone on a global stage with one wee little spark somewhere –anywhere – in the Islamic world.
So it seemed prudent for the bishops and myself to shift my plans from Bauchi to Kafanchan, hours to the west and with a strong Christian majority.
As it turned out, the Boko Haram prison breakout was confined to just that. No more came of it than for them to declare jihad. Tell me something new… Still, it would not have played well at my home in Heathsville to go near the dry tinder when sparks were flying.
My plan, actually my bishop’s plan, was to spend time with Bp. Tula, go out to some of the camps, see the clinics and mission stations he has planted, and meet some of the leaders. In fact Bishop Inyom and I were talking about the visit the evening before, when Bishop Tula called about the prison battle.
Immediately all three of us could foresee the possibility of a conflagration throughout northern Nigeria. That’s because of past events, current events, and a spark.
The past events:
1. Remember the editor in a local paper in Denmark who decided to print some cartoons of Mohammed? Remember the storm that caused? The worst damage was in Maiduguri, the state in the northeast corner of Nigeria. Several Catholic churches were burned and pastors killed.
2. The Boko Haram uprising of July 2009 was not confined to Bauchi. Jos, in Plateau State next to Bauchi, saw riots and fighting aimed at the Christians.
3. In January of this year another Muslim group rioted in Jos with many Christian deaths.
Current events:
1. Was this pastor in Florida just wanting to make news? Well, he did, all over the world, with special attention throughout the Muslim world. We heard about fears of retaliation to our troops in Afghanistan. Anglican leaders here were fearful of reprisals at the very local levels.
2. The month of fasting for Muslims, Ramadan, end with the new moon this week. In Nigeria and Saudi Arabia the decision was for September 10th. Other parts of the Islamic world decided on September 9th. Take your pick, Eid al Fitr is a day of high Muslim pride, vulnerable to a spark to set in motion a rampage.
3. This comes on the ninth anniversary of 9/11.
President Obama has worked hard and skillfully to put a wedge between the Muslim extremists and the moderates. The Christian church is slowly moving to a greater awareness of the presence of Muslims around them and the need to build relationships for outreach. All this could be undone on a global stage with one wee little spark somewhere –anywhere – in the Islamic world.
So it seemed prudent for the bishops and myself to shift my plans from Bauchi to Kafanchan, hours to the west and with a strong Christian majority.
As it turned out, the Boko Haram prison breakout was confined to just that. No more came of it than for them to declare jihad. Tell me something new… Still, it would not have played well at my home in Heathsville to go near the dry tinder when sparks were flying.
Boko Haram – Hausa for “Western Influence is sin”
And that would include white faces.
Back in 1975 or thereabouts Bernard Lewis wrote an essay of the basic objections of Muslims. The essay still stands as a classic and comes up easily on Google. The answer he gives is western influence.
Boko Haram is a militant group whose obvious object is to eradicate western influence. So far its main place of operation has been Bauchi State, Nigeria. Their weapons in this culture war – guns.
The Anglican Bishop of Bauchi, the Rt. Rev. Musa Tula, has expressed the fear that every Muslim home in his state may possess weapons for the time of uprising against the Christians.
Last July they led an uprising there that ended up taking over 500 lives. Most were of their own sect.
All they needed was a very small spark, which was provided for them when a small independent church refused parking to Muslims who used their parking lot for their Friday prayers. There was something before this refusal that I do not know. Anyhow, when the church barred the parking lot, the Boko Haram ignited the uprising.
After the fighting ended, in addition to the hundreds killed, several of their leaders were arrested. Two of them, the leader and the second in command, were killed by the police “while trying to escape.”
Last week the Boko Haram stormed the prison in Bauchi in order to release their members who had been there since the fighting of last year. In the ensuing battle, five people were killed, the prison was burned down, and the Boko Haram prisoners escaped.
When I heard Bishop Inyom in conversation with Bp. Tula say the words, “Boko Haram”, I knew there was trouble ahead for my trip the next day to Bauchi State.
Back in 1975 or thereabouts Bernard Lewis wrote an essay of the basic objections of Muslims. The essay still stands as a classic and comes up easily on Google. The answer he gives is western influence.
Boko Haram is a militant group whose obvious object is to eradicate western influence. So far its main place of operation has been Bauchi State, Nigeria. Their weapons in this culture war – guns.
The Anglican Bishop of Bauchi, the Rt. Rev. Musa Tula, has expressed the fear that every Muslim home in his state may possess weapons for the time of uprising against the Christians.
Last July they led an uprising there that ended up taking over 500 lives. Most were of their own sect.
All they needed was a very small spark, which was provided for them when a small independent church refused parking to Muslims who used their parking lot for their Friday prayers. There was something before this refusal that I do not know. Anyhow, when the church barred the parking lot, the Boko Haram ignited the uprising.
After the fighting ended, in addition to the hundreds killed, several of their leaders were arrested. Two of them, the leader and the second in command, were killed by the police “while trying to escape.”
Last week the Boko Haram stormed the prison in Bauchi in order to release their members who had been there since the fighting of last year. In the ensuing battle, five people were killed, the prison was burned down, and the Boko Haram prisoners escaped.
When I heard Bishop Inyom in conversation with Bp. Tula say the words, “Boko Haram”, I knew there was trouble ahead for my trip the next day to Bauchi State.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
My Outline
That’s my term for my project. Too early to move forward to what I hope it will become – my book – but I hope it is moving in that direction.
I’ve been working on this outline for – let me look up in my files to see just how long – March of 2009. I have a hard copy stack of previous drafts of this outline that must be four inches tall.
For this trip I brought along my latest version, which by this time comes to 28 pages. From my first flight out from Richmond I have been revising, editing, correcting, adding to this printed draft. As I made the corrections, I noted that these have come in layers, each layer having a different color of writing instrument, representing the several times I have devoted to it. The editings show blue, light blue, black, pencil, and green.
This afternoon I finished putting all these corrections and adjustments into the computer. Now I have a new paper copy to work with, four pages longer.
The theme is very, very simple. I am of the opinion that Paul obeyed the Lord Jesus Christ in the instructions he received on the road to Damascus. Paul heard Jesus name him as the apostle to the Gentile nations. It seems very plain to me Paul took Him seriously, in all his life, in all his travels, in all his writings. So seriously that all of his thinking went into reorienting Jewish thought into a Gospel that encompassed all Gentiles, that all his letters push the church’s call to include all the Gentile nations, and that all his travels had the purpose of preparing churches to expand the Gospel among other Gentile nations.
All I am trying to do in my outline is to trace his determined and varied efforts to persuade the church to go to the least evangelized Gentile nations.
This afternoon I printed up the latest version with all my notes from the last ten days. I must say, it looks splendid. But a week from now when I bring it out and review it, I’ll ask myself why on earth I put a thought that way, or why I omitted something very obvious, or why I couldn’t follow the logic of the chapter. Definitely a work in progress; all I want is to keep making progress.
Life in Makurdi
It’s possible many of you readers have not visited a city, a fairly large city at that, in the middle of Nigeria. Maybe you would be interested in a glimpse of what life is like here.
Makurdi is a good city. By that I mean the roads are laid out well, traffic is ordered and orderly, people are cheerful, and city services seem to be adequate. In the terms they use, they would say that it is well developed. Well, with the exception of electricity. That is on and off and irregular, mostly off due to vandalism in another part of the state. The hospital is fairly large and seems to meet the needs of the area.
On the very local level, the streets are lined with shops and stalls. A shop is a step up from a stall but may be right next to a series of stalls. The people with the stalls are all outside, chatting, sitting, just hanging out. The people in the shops are exactly that – inside. Folk just seem to prefer being on the streets. I can’t say they are on the sidewalk since there aren’t any, just dusty dirt where we might expect cement. But along these borders of the roads are lots and lots of people. Some are fixing tires on motorcycles, some sitting at tables and talking, some walking with bowls on their heads, some just standing.
I have found them not shy, easy to chat with, helpful, and just a bit curious about me, for I am the only white person in evidence. The Benue River is down at the bottom of the hill below the cathedral, but the riverfront here looks like – no, not riverfront property as in Northumberland County – looks like the streets up the hill, crowded with stalls, shops, dirty sidewalks, and lots of people just hanging.
People are busier than in years past, I am told. Long hours at their businesses take up most days. Sundays are for washing and ironing, visiting, and resting. Church yes, but maybe drop in for the 9:00 service at 10 and stay for the next two hours, then back to the chores or visiting.
All in all, a fine place to be
On the Same Page as My Bishop
It is an unusual thing for a priest of a diocese in the United States to ask to be transferred to a diocese in Nigeria. That is exactly what I asked of Bishop Lee, and that is where my membership is now, under the Rt. Rev. N. N. Inyom of the Diocese of Makurdi.
A comment he made about the All Africa Bishops’ Conference reminded me of how much we think alike and how appropriate has been this transfer.
At the conference in Entebbe, Uganda, we were given the texts of the morning talks. Each of these was given by one of the leaders of the Ugandan church.
In one of them the bishop was talking about the leading of the Holy Spirit in mission. He went out of his way to add a note on this subject. In that he declared that what the church needed was to simply follow the Spirit’s leading, that’s all. Then he made his point. Some missions leaders get caught up in pursuing research on people groups and giving thought to developing strategies for mission. Totally unnecessary if we follow the leading of the Spirit.
Oh, please!
Yesterday as Bishop Inyom and I were driving to the Diocesan Women’s Conference, he was speaking about the Entebbe conference. He turned to me and, speaking rather energetically said, “ I don’t know why that speaker was critical of thinking and strategies for mission. He said we must just follow the Spirit. Does he not believe that the Spirit leads us through our research and expects us to think?
So, I am happy to be here under this great missions thinker and leader.
How did I get to a hotel in Ethiopia?
The pilot said this was the worse combination of errors he had ever seen.
It all began with a shuttle from the hotel at the conference in Entebbe to the airport. We were flying to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, with connecting flights to Nigeria. Although the departure was listed as 4 AM, rumor was that the flight to Addis Ababa would leave at 2. So nothing would do but to be at the airport at 11 PM.
The plane boarded at the right time – 3:10 AM – for departure at the right time - 4 AM. Only thing was, another plane of Ethiopian Air needed a mechanic who wouldn’t be available until 5 AM. After boarding, we had to wait for him. That was when we heard the first apology of the pilot for the delay, this one caused by the mechanic.
Then came another. He was very sorry but the plane was too heavy. We could take off but couldn’t land. He should have at least chuckled when he said that, if only to get our imaginations under control.
After a long time he announced their solution. They would off-load all the luggage and leave it on the tarmac in Entebbe. In the meantime they would make the flight to Kigali, Rwanda, a mere 40 minutes away, and then return to pick up the luggage.
The passengers could stay at the airport if we chose. No thank you. I had been there for over 5 hours, and it had lost all interest to me. I stayed in my seat, a window seat, and saw some of the beauty of Rwanda.
Back in Entebbe the pilot announced that four passengers had taken another flight and therefore our weight for landing was all right. It was now 11:00 AM. My connecting flight to Abuja from Addis Ababa had left at 9:40 AM. Hmmm. The gaggle of Nigerian bishops on board was mostly going to Lagos. Their flight left at 9:00 AM. Hmmm.
We arrived at Addis Ababa at 1:30. By then the pilot had to reach into superlatives never before used for his apology – the very worst combination of errors in his career! Please, he pleaded, next time Ethiopian Air would show how reliable they really are. That made me think of snowballs and hell.
No sign of any flight to Abuja. A nice lady with the airline gave me a voucher for a night on them in Ethiopia! Time for a tour of the National Museum of Ethiopia and a brief glimpse into this historic and ancient land and people. Who knows what Ethiopia Air will bring tomorrow. Cairo?
Good Samaritans I Have Met
People come to Africa for many reasons – safaris, church teams, World Cup, and business, to mention a few. Many come with skills and experience to bring aid in a wide variety of ways, seeking nothing but progress in ways that will lift the nations. Let me mention three I have encountered so far.
The first was a white gentleman on my flight to Abuja. He was quite well dressed, seemed to travel well, met people easily. I took him for a doctor or professor. Wrong. We met at an Internet café at the airport in Addis Ababa, waiting for the same flight. He too had been on the flight that could take off but could not land.
He works for a global peace festival, centered in Africa. He knew some of the gaggle of men in purple, especially the Primate of Kenya who is one of the major sponsors of this event. The fruit of this peace initiative will be greater understanding among the tribal factions of Africa and less tension between African nations and the superpowers.
Wouldn’t you know it but this guy lives 90 miles from Heathsville! We chatted about a host of things, hitting it off quite easily. Our styles – styles for hustling potential contacts! - were very similar. After a while I asked if he had a church. No, he said, he did have respect for the church but had decided against joining one. A man of peace but who lives apart from the Prince of Peace.
On the long flight to Abuja I sat beside a young Japanese woman who was also quite easy to talk with. She had been living in Ethiopia for about four months, working with the Green Revolution in Africa. The focus of this group is food scarcity and issues relating to production and distribution. Her organization is striving to make a contribution in agricultural techniques and treatment of the lowest and most abused level of food production – the farmer.
She had studied in the United States. I asked her if she was familiar with the Christian Church. She did know St. Paul’s University – Rikkyo - in Tokyo which was founded by my relative, Bishop Channing Moore Willians. But no, her college had been Christian at one point but wasn’t now, and she knew very little about the church. I recounted to her the parable of the sheep and the goats, just to leave with her the priority that the Lord of the Church has for the poor and abused.
The last to mention was a couple from Boston who were at the AABC in Entebbe. Their ministry, which had been going on for 25 years, was in health care. Clearly their health care is a dual ministry with witness to the loving and powerful work of Jesus Christ.
These Good Samaritans would make the President of Uganda pleased. How much better if all of them had seen the deeper impact on society that the last couple brought through the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
A Politician Speaks to the Church
An early highlight for the All Africa Bishops’ Conference was an address by the President of Uganda, the Honorable Mousevi. Until that point all of the addresses and discussion had focused on the ways of the church dealing with church issues. The President brought us into a different reality.
Mousevi is a devout Christian, and his wife is a frequent speaker at Anglican functions. He had been a generous supporter of this conference and was pleased to show off Uganda to the many visitors.
When the President spoke, we saw ourselves in a different light, and not such a flattering hue. This was a statesman giving a perspective on the church - not on our internal affairs but the impact, positive or negative, in the society and history of Uganda.
After some humor and well-chosen remarks on Uganda, he began talking about the coming of the church to Uganda about 125 years ago. The first ones here were the Protestants. Then a few years later the Roman Catholics arrived. Rather than strengthening the witness of Christ in this country, these two groups went to war – against each other! “Where is that written, I wonder, where their God tells them to kill other Christians because they are from another denomination?”
Not long after the Christians came, the Muslims came. “What do you think, it wouldn’t do but that the Christians and the Muslims went to war trying to kill each other. Now I want to know where that is written in their book also that they are to kill people who worship God differently?”
As President, what he is looking for is the Good Samaritan, the person who doesn’t ask which denomination the wounded are, which faith they are, but simply wants to know what he can do to help, to bind up, to see the wounded cared for. That is what he is looking for; that is how religion helps the country of Uganda.
An AFM Observation on the AABC
Anglican Frontier Missions looks at the nations and the people whom the church has neglected, the 1.7 billion people who have not yet heard the Gospel.
The All Africa Bishops’ Conference brought together all the Anglican bishops of the continent for fellowship and inspiration.
It was a very black conference. By that I mean that of the 390 bishops present, there was only one who was not black. That would be the Bishop of Egypt and the Middle East, an Arab.
The research I did before leaving Virginia showed that there are 417 million Muslims on the continent of Africa. How many of these are Arab would be hard to say. Many are black. When making estimates of this sort, my practice has been to come in on the low side. The numbers are still astronomical and still staggering.
So let’s say that only 25% of the 417 million Muslims are Arab. That means that on the continent of Africa there are 100 million Arab people. From these the Anglican Church has one bishop.
This brings me to my observation. I mention this not as a criticism, for on what grounds is there criticism for already being Christian? I mention an observation for pointing out an area crying out for new attention.
My observation is that a legitimate focus for the All Africa Bishops of the Anglican Communion should be for the dioceses to increase the learning of Islam, training evangelists, listening strategies, and bringing concentrated prayer for extending the Christian Church and its Anglican branch among these 100,000,000 Arab Muslims.
Monday, September 6, 2010
It's curious, what you miss
Me, I have missed coffee. Not chocolate, brought some. Not music. Got my headphones. Not books, brought a range from C. S. Lewis to The Day of the Jackal to Paradise Lost to Dorothy Sayers. But I miss coffee.
So earlier today I waddled up the hill to the nearby supermarket. Give it the size of one aisle in your local, make it dark, all in four short rows of shelves, and you have it. Funny, nowhere did I find chocolate, but I did seize on the coffee - simply called Nescaff - and brought the tin back to my room.
There was still one more problem. Jennifer is a sweet 16 year-old who has been assigned to me. She brings my meals and takes them away, brings oranges and tins of evaporated milk, reminds me that the electricity is on and I don't need to use my flashlight. She speaks English and so do I, but mostly, we do not understand each other. That is clear.
The problem I was facing with the coffee was the hot water. They drink a lot of tea, as do I. With my first cup I was reminded of African tea - it comes with ginger in the water. Always.
This afternoon I tried to ask for plain water, knowing that the amazing jugs they use here will keep it near boiling until tomorrow morning when I plan my first cup. The water came. I made tea. Ginger tea.
No matter. Tomorrow morning at the time for coffee, around 10, I'll mix my Nescaff with my ginger water and will thoroughly enjoy it.
Reminds me of the first trek in Nepal when we took bad water, added iodine which purified and flavored, and then Gatorade powder to render it almost pleasant. But that was a long time ago, before blogs.
So earlier today I waddled up the hill to the nearby supermarket. Give it the size of one aisle in your local, make it dark, all in four short rows of shelves, and you have it. Funny, nowhere did I find chocolate, but I did seize on the coffee - simply called Nescaff - and brought the tin back to my room.
There was still one more problem. Jennifer is a sweet 16 year-old who has been assigned to me. She brings my meals and takes them away, brings oranges and tins of evaporated milk, reminds me that the electricity is on and I don't need to use my flashlight. She speaks English and so do I, but mostly, we do not understand each other. That is clear.
The problem I was facing with the coffee was the hot water. They drink a lot of tea, as do I. With my first cup I was reminded of African tea - it comes with ginger in the water. Always.
This afternoon I tried to ask for plain water, knowing that the amazing jugs they use here will keep it near boiling until tomorrow morning when I plan my first cup. The water came. I made tea. Ginger tea.
No matter. Tomorrow morning at the time for coffee, around 10, I'll mix my Nescaff with my ginger water and will thoroughly enjoy it.
Reminds me of the first trek in Nepal when we took bad water, added iodine which purified and flavored, and then Gatorade powder to render it almost pleasant. But that was a long time ago, before blogs.
My Outline
That’s my term for my project. Too early to move forward to what I hope it will become – my book – but I hope it is moving in that direction.
I’ve been working on this outline for – let me look up in my files to see just how long – March of 2009. I have a hard copy stack of previous drafts of this outline that must be four inches tall.
For this trip I brought along my latest version, which by this time comes to 28 pages. From my first flight out from Richmond I have been revising, editing, correcting, adding to this printed draft. As I made the corrections, I noted that these have come in layers, each layer having a different color of writing instrument, representing the several times I have devoted to it. The editings show blue, light blue, black, pencil, and green.
This afternoon I finished putting all these corrections and adjustments into the computer. Now I have a new paper copy to work with, four pages longer.
The theme is very, very simple. I am of the opinion that Paul obeyed the Lord Jesus Christ in the instructions he received on the road to Damascus. Paul heard Jesus name him as the apostle to the Gentile nations. It seems very plain to me Paul took Him seriously, in all his life, in all his travels, in all his writings. So seriously that all of his thinking went into reorienting Jewish thought into a Gospel that encompassed all Gentiles, that all his letters push the church’s call to include all the Gentile nations, and that all his travels had the purpose of preparing churches to expand the Gospel among other Gentile nations.
All I am trying to do in my outline is to trace his determined and varied efforts to persuade the church to go to the least evangelized Gentile nations.
This afternoon I printed up the latest version with all my notes from the last ten days. I must say, it looks splendid. But a week from now when I bring it out and review it, I’ll ask myself why on earth I put a thought that way, or why I omitted something very obvious, or why I couldn’t follow the logic of the chapter. Definitely a work in progress; all I want is to keep making progress.
I’ve been working on this outline for – let me look up in my files to see just how long – March of 2009. I have a hard copy stack of previous drafts of this outline that must be four inches tall.
For this trip I brought along my latest version, which by this time comes to 28 pages. From my first flight out from Richmond I have been revising, editing, correcting, adding to this printed draft. As I made the corrections, I noted that these have come in layers, each layer having a different color of writing instrument, representing the several times I have devoted to it. The editings show blue, light blue, black, pencil, and green.
This afternoon I finished putting all these corrections and adjustments into the computer. Now I have a new paper copy to work with, four pages longer.
The theme is very, very simple. I am of the opinion that Paul obeyed the Lord Jesus Christ in the instructions he received on the road to Damascus. Paul heard Jesus name him as the apostle to the Gentile nations. It seems very plain to me Paul took Him seriously, in all his life, in all his travels, in all his writings. So seriously that all of his thinking went into reorienting Jewish thought into a Gospel that encompassed all Gentiles, that all his letters push the church’s call to include all the Gentile nations, and that all his travels had the purpose of preparing churches to expand the Gospel among other Gentile nations.
All I am trying to do in my outline is to trace his determined and varied efforts to persuade the church to go to the least evangelized Gentile nations.
This afternoon I printed up the latest version with all my notes from the last ten days. I must say, it looks splendid. But a week from now when I bring it out and review it, I’ll ask myself why on earth I put a thought that way, or why I omitted something very obvious, or why I couldn’t follow the logic of the chapter. Definitely a work in progress; all I want is to keep making progress.
Life in Makurdi
It’s possible many of you readers have not visited a city, a fairly large city at that, in the middle of Nigeria. Maybe you would be interested in a glimpse of what life is like here.
Makurdi is a good city. By that I mean the roads are laid out well, traffic is ordered and orderly, people are cheerful, and city services seem to be adequate. In the terms they use, they would say that it is well developed. Well, with the exception of electricity. That is on and off and irregular, mostly off due to vandalism in another part of the state. The hospital is fairly large and seems to meet the needs of the area.
On the very local level, the streets are lined with shops and stalls. A shop is a step up from a stall but may be right next to a series of stalls. The people with the stalls are all outside, chatting, sitting, just hanging out. The people in the shops are exactly that – inside. Folk just seem to prefer being on the streets. I can’t say they are on the sidewalk since there aren’t any, just dusty dirt where we might expect cement. But along these borders of the roads are lots and lots of people. Some are fixing tires on motorcycles, some sitting at tables and talking, some walking with bowls on their heads, some just standing.
I have found them not shy, easy to chat with, helpful, and just a bit curious about me, for I am the only white person in evidence. The Benue River is down at the bottom of the hill below the cathedral, but the riverfront here looks like – no, not riverfront property as in Northumberland County – looks like the streets up the hill, crowded with stalls, shops, dirty sidewalks, and lots of people just hanging.
People are busier than in years past, I am told. Long hours at their businesses take up most days. Sundays are for washing and ironing, visiting, and resting. Church yes, but maybe drop in for the 9:00 service at 10 and stay for the next two hours, then back to the chores or visiting.
All in all, a fine place to be
Makurdi is a good city. By that I mean the roads are laid out well, traffic is ordered and orderly, people are cheerful, and city services seem to be adequate. In the terms they use, they would say that it is well developed. Well, with the exception of electricity. That is on and off and irregular, mostly off due to vandalism in another part of the state. The hospital is fairly large and seems to meet the needs of the area.
On the very local level, the streets are lined with shops and stalls. A shop is a step up from a stall but may be right next to a series of stalls. The people with the stalls are all outside, chatting, sitting, just hanging out. The people in the shops are exactly that – inside. Folk just seem to prefer being on the streets. I can’t say they are on the sidewalk since there aren’t any, just dusty dirt where we might expect cement. But along these borders of the roads are lots and lots of people. Some are fixing tires on motorcycles, some sitting at tables and talking, some walking with bowls on their heads, some just standing.
I have found them not shy, easy to chat with, helpful, and just a bit curious about me, for I am the only white person in evidence. The Benue River is down at the bottom of the hill below the cathedral, but the riverfront here looks like – no, not riverfront property as in Northumberland County – looks like the streets up the hill, crowded with stalls, shops, dirty sidewalks, and lots of people just hanging.
People are busier than in years past, I am told. Long hours at their businesses take up most days. Sundays are for washing and ironing, visiting, and resting. Church yes, but maybe drop in for the 9:00 service at 10 and stay for the next two hours, then back to the chores or visiting.
All in all, a fine place to be
On the Same Page as My Bishop
It is an unusual thing for a priest of a diocese in the United States to ask to be transferred to a diocese in Nigeria. That is exactly what I asked of Bishop Lee, and that is where my membership is now, under the Rt. Rev. N. N. Inyom of the Diocese of Makurdi.
A comment he made about the All Africa Bishops’ Conference reminded me of how much we think alike and how appropriate has been this transfer.
At the conference in Entebbe, Uganda, we were given the texts of the morning talks. Each of these was given by one of the leaders of the Ugandan church.
In one of them the bishop was talking about the leading of the Holy Spirit in mission. He went out of his way to add a note on this subject. In that he declared that what the church needed was to simply follow the Spirit’s leading, that’s all. Then he made his point. Some missions leaders get caught up in pursuing research on people groups and giving thought to developing strategies for mission. Totally unnecessary if we follow the leading of the Spirit.
Oh, please!
Yesterday as Bishop Inyom and I were driving to the Diocesan Women’s Conference, he was speaking about the Entebbe conference. He turned to me and, speaking rather energetically said, “ I don’t know why that speaker was critical of thinking and strategies for mission. He said we must just follow the Spirit. Does he not believe that the Spirit leads us through our research and expects us to think?
So, I am happy to be here under this great missions thinker and leader.
A comment he made about the All Africa Bishops’ Conference reminded me of how much we think alike and how appropriate has been this transfer.
At the conference in Entebbe, Uganda, we were given the texts of the morning talks. Each of these was given by one of the leaders of the Ugandan church.
In one of them the bishop was talking about the leading of the Holy Spirit in mission. He went out of his way to add a note on this subject. In that he declared that what the church needed was to simply follow the Spirit’s leading, that’s all. Then he made his point. Some missions leaders get caught up in pursuing research on people groups and giving thought to developing strategies for mission. Totally unnecessary if we follow the leading of the Spirit.
Oh, please!
Yesterday as Bishop Inyom and I were driving to the Diocesan Women’s Conference, he was speaking about the Entebbe conference. He turned to me and, speaking rather energetically said, “ I don’t know why that speaker was critical of thinking and strategies for mission. He said we must just follow the Spirit. Does he not believe that the Spirit leads us through our research and expects us to think?
So, I am happy to be here under this great missions thinker and leader.
How did I get to a hotel in Ethiopia?
The pilot said this was the worse combination of errors he had ever seen.
It all began with a shuttle from the hotel at the conference in Entebbe to the airport. We were flying to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, with connecting flights to Nigeria. Although the departure was listed as 4 AM, rumor was that the flight to Addis Ababa would leave at 2. So nothing would do but to be at the airport at 11 PM.
The plane boarded at the right time – 3:10 AM – for departure at the right time - 4 AM. Only thing was, another plane of Ethiopian Air needed a mechanic who wouldn’t be available until 5 AM. After boarding, we had to wait for him. That was when we heard the first apology of the pilot for the delay, this one caused by the mechanic.
Then came another. He was very sorry but the plane was too heavy. We could take off but couldn’t land. He should have at least chuckled when he said that, if only to get our imaginations under control.
After a long time he announced their solution. They would off-load all the luggage and leave it on the tarmac in Entebbe. In the meantime they would make the flight to Kigali, Rwanda, a mere 40 minutes away, and then return to pick up the luggage.
The passengers could stay at the airport if we chose. No thank you. I had been there for over 5 hours, and it had lost all interest to me. I stayed in my seat, a window seat, and saw some of the beauty of Rwanda.
Back in Entebbe the pilot announced that four passengers had taken another flight and therefore our weight for landing was all right. It was now 11:00 AM. My connecting flight to Abuja from Addis Ababa had left at 9:40 AM. Hmmm. The gaggle of Nigerian bishops on board was mostly going to Lagos. Their flight left at 9:00 AM. Hmmm.
We arrived at Addis Ababa at 1:30. By then the pilot had to reach into superlatives never before used for his apology – the very worst combination of errors in his career! Please, he pleaded, next time Ethiopian Air would show how reliable they really are. That made me think of snowballs and hell.
No sign of any flight to Abuja. A nice lady with the airline gave me a voucher for a night on them in Ethiopia! Time for a tour of the National Museum of Ethiopia and a brief glimpse into this historic and ancient land and people. Who knows what Ethiopia Air will bring tomorrow. Cairo?
It all began with a shuttle from the hotel at the conference in Entebbe to the airport. We were flying to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, with connecting flights to Nigeria. Although the departure was listed as 4 AM, rumor was that the flight to Addis Ababa would leave at 2. So nothing would do but to be at the airport at 11 PM.
The plane boarded at the right time – 3:10 AM – for departure at the right time - 4 AM. Only thing was, another plane of Ethiopian Air needed a mechanic who wouldn’t be available until 5 AM. After boarding, we had to wait for him. That was when we heard the first apology of the pilot for the delay, this one caused by the mechanic.
Then came another. He was very sorry but the plane was too heavy. We could take off but couldn’t land. He should have at least chuckled when he said that, if only to get our imaginations under control.
After a long time he announced their solution. They would off-load all the luggage and leave it on the tarmac in Entebbe. In the meantime they would make the flight to Kigali, Rwanda, a mere 40 minutes away, and then return to pick up the luggage.
The passengers could stay at the airport if we chose. No thank you. I had been there for over 5 hours, and it had lost all interest to me. I stayed in my seat, a window seat, and saw some of the beauty of Rwanda.
Back in Entebbe the pilot announced that four passengers had taken another flight and therefore our weight for landing was all right. It was now 11:00 AM. My connecting flight to Abuja from Addis Ababa had left at 9:40 AM. Hmmm. The gaggle of Nigerian bishops on board was mostly going to Lagos. Their flight left at 9:00 AM. Hmmm.
We arrived at Addis Ababa at 1:30. By then the pilot had to reach into superlatives never before used for his apology – the very worst combination of errors in his career! Please, he pleaded, next time Ethiopian Air would show how reliable they really are. That made me think of snowballs and hell.
No sign of any flight to Abuja. A nice lady with the airline gave me a voucher for a night on them in Ethiopia! Time for a tour of the National Museum of Ethiopia and a brief glimpse into this historic and ancient land and people. Who knows what Ethiopia Air will bring tomorrow. Cairo?
Good Samaritans I Have Met
People come to Africa for many reasons – safaris, church teams, World Cup, and business, to mention a few. Many come with skills and experience to bring aid in a wide variety of ways, seeking nothing but progress in ways that will lift the nations. Let me mention three I have encountered so far.
The first was a white gentleman on my flight to Abuja. He was quite well dressed, seemed to travel well, met people easily. I took him for a doctor or professor. Wrong. We met at an Internet café at the airport in Addis Ababa, waiting for the same flight. He too had been on the flight that could take off but could not land.
He works for a global peace festival, centered in Africa. He knew some of the gaggle of men in purple, especially the Primate of Kenya who is one of the major sponsors of this event. The fruit of this peace initiative will be greater understanding among the tribal factions of Africa and less tension between African nations and the superpowers.
Wouldn’t you know it but this guy lives 90 miles from Heathsville! We chatted about a host of things, hitting it off quite easily. Our styles – styles for hustling potential contacts! - were very similar. After a while I asked if he had a church. No, he said, he did have respect for the church but had decided against joining one. A man of peace but who lives apart from the Prince of Peace.
On the long flight to Abuja I sat beside a young Japanese woman who was also quite easy to talk with. She had been living in Ethiopia for about four months, working with the Green Revolution in Africa. The focus of this group is food scarcity and issues relating to production and distribution. Her organization is striving to make a contribution in agricultural techniques and treatment of the lowest and most abused level of food production – the farmer.
She had studied in the United States. I asked her if she was familiar with the Christian Church. She did know St. Paul’s University – Rikkyo - in Tokyo which was founded by my relative, Bishop Channing Moore Williams. But no, her college had been Christian at one point but wasn’t now, and she knew very little about the church. I recounted to her the parable of the sheep and the goats, just to leave with her the priority that the Lord of the Church has for the poor and abused.
The last to mention was a couple from Boston who were at the AABC in Entebbe. Their ministry, which had been going on for 25 years, was in health care. Clearly their health care is a dual ministry with witness to the loving and powerful work of Jesus Christ.
These Good Samaritans would make the President of Uganda pleased. How much better if all of them had seen the deeper impact on society that the last couple brought through the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
The first was a white gentleman on my flight to Abuja. He was quite well dressed, seemed to travel well, met people easily. I took him for a doctor or professor. Wrong. We met at an Internet café at the airport in Addis Ababa, waiting for the same flight. He too had been on the flight that could take off but could not land.
He works for a global peace festival, centered in Africa. He knew some of the gaggle of men in purple, especially the Primate of Kenya who is one of the major sponsors of this event. The fruit of this peace initiative will be greater understanding among the tribal factions of Africa and less tension between African nations and the superpowers.
Wouldn’t you know it but this guy lives 90 miles from Heathsville! We chatted about a host of things, hitting it off quite easily. Our styles – styles for hustling potential contacts! - were very similar. After a while I asked if he had a church. No, he said, he did have respect for the church but had decided against joining one. A man of peace but who lives apart from the Prince of Peace.
On the long flight to Abuja I sat beside a young Japanese woman who was also quite easy to talk with. She had been living in Ethiopia for about four months, working with the Green Revolution in Africa. The focus of this group is food scarcity and issues relating to production and distribution. Her organization is striving to make a contribution in agricultural techniques and treatment of the lowest and most abused level of food production – the farmer.
She had studied in the United States. I asked her if she was familiar with the Christian Church. She did know St. Paul’s University – Rikkyo - in Tokyo which was founded by my relative, Bishop Channing Moore Williams. But no, her college had been Christian at one point but wasn’t now, and she knew very little about the church. I recounted to her the parable of the sheep and the goats, just to leave with her the priority that the Lord of the Church has for the poor and abused.
The last to mention was a couple from Boston who were at the AABC in Entebbe. Their ministry, which had been going on for 25 years, was in health care. Clearly their health care is a dual ministry with witness to the loving and powerful work of Jesus Christ.
These Good Samaritans would make the President of Uganda pleased. How much better if all of them had seen the deeper impact on society that the last couple brought through the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
A Politician Speaks to the Church
An early highlight for the All Africa Bishops’ Conference was an address by the President of Uganda, the Honorable Mousevi. Until that point all of the addresses and discussion had focused on the ways of the church dealing with church issues. The President brought us into a different reality.
Mousevi is a devout Christian, and his wife is a frequent speaker at Anglican functions. He had been a generous supporter of this conference and was pleased to show off Uganda to the many visitors.
When the President spoke, we saw ourselves in a different light, and not such a flattering hue. This was a statesman giving a perspective on the church - not on our internal affairs but the impact, positive or negative, in the society and history of Uganda.
After some humor and well-chosen remarks on Uganda, he began talking about the coming of the church to Uganda about 125 years ago. The first ones here were the Protestants. Then a few years later the Roman Catholics arrived. Rather than strengthening the witness of Christ in this country, these two groups went to war – against each other! “Where is that written, I wonder, where their God tells them to kill other Christians because they are from another denomination?”
Not long after the Christians came, the Muslims came. “What do you think, it wouldn’t do but that the Christians and the Muslims went to war trying to kill each other. Now I want to know where that is written in their book also that they are to kill people who worship God differently?”
As President, what he is looking for is the Good Samaritan, the person who doesn’t ask which denomination the wounded are, which faith they are, but simply wants to know what he can do to help, to bind up, to see the wounded cared for. That is what he is looking for; that is how religion helps the country of Uganda.
Mousevi is a devout Christian, and his wife is a frequent speaker at Anglican functions. He had been a generous supporter of this conference and was pleased to show off Uganda to the many visitors.
When the President spoke, we saw ourselves in a different light, and not such a flattering hue. This was a statesman giving a perspective on the church - not on our internal affairs but the impact, positive or negative, in the society and history of Uganda.
After some humor and well-chosen remarks on Uganda, he began talking about the coming of the church to Uganda about 125 years ago. The first ones here were the Protestants. Then a few years later the Roman Catholics arrived. Rather than strengthening the witness of Christ in this country, these two groups went to war – against each other! “Where is that written, I wonder, where their God tells them to kill other Christians because they are from another denomination?”
Not long after the Christians came, the Muslims came. “What do you think, it wouldn’t do but that the Christians and the Muslims went to war trying to kill each other. Now I want to know where that is written in their book also that they are to kill people who worship God differently?”
As President, what he is looking for is the Good Samaritan, the person who doesn’t ask which denomination the wounded are, which faith they are, but simply wants to know what he can do to help, to bind up, to see the wounded cared for. That is what he is looking for; that is how religion helps the country of Uganda.
An AFM Observation on the AABC
Anglican Frontier Missions looks at the nations and the people whom the church has neglected, the 1.7 billion people who have not yet heard the Gospel.
The All Africa Bishops’ Conference brought together all the Anglican bishops of the continent for fellowship and inspiration.
It was a very black conference. By that I mean that of the 390 bishops present, there was only one who was not black. That would be the Bishop of Egypt and the Middle East, an Arab.
The research I did before leaving Virginia showed that there are 417 million Muslims on the continent of Africa. How many of these are Arab would be hard to say. Many are black. When making estimates of this sort, my practice has been to come in on the low side. The numbers are still astronomical and still staggering.
So let’s say that only 25% of the 417 million Muslims are Arab. That means that on the continent of Africa there are 100 million Arab people. From these the Anglican Church has one bishop.
This brings me to my observation. I mention this not as a criticism, for on what grounds is there criticism for already being Christian? I mention an observation for pointing out an area crying out for new attention.
My observation is that a legitimate focus for the All Africa Bishops of the Anglican Communion should be for the dioceses to increase the learning of Islam, training evangelists, listening strategies, and bringing concentrated prayer for extending the Christian Church and its Anglican branch among these 100,000,000 Arab Muslims.
The All Africa Bishops’ Conference brought together all the Anglican bishops of the continent for fellowship and inspiration.
It was a very black conference. By that I mean that of the 390 bishops present, there was only one who was not black. That would be the Bishop of Egypt and the Middle East, an Arab.
The research I did before leaving Virginia showed that there are 417 million Muslims on the continent of Africa. How many of these are Arab would be hard to say. Many are black. When making estimates of this sort, my practice has been to come in on the low side. The numbers are still astronomical and still staggering.
So let’s say that only 25% of the 417 million Muslims are Arab. That means that on the continent of Africa there are 100 million Arab people. From these the Anglican Church has one bishop.
This brings me to my observation. I mention this not as a criticism, for on what grounds is there criticism for already being Christian? I mention an observation for pointing out an area crying out for new attention.
My observation is that a legitimate focus for the All Africa Bishops of the Anglican Communion should be for the dioceses to increase the learning of Islam, training evangelists, listening strategies, and bringing concentrated prayer for extending the Christian Church and its Anglican branch among these 100,000,000 Arab Muslims.
Monday, August 30, 2010
"May I add a comment?"
The bishop and I had gone to the Cathedral after two services at All Saints Church. The service at the Cathedral had ended, and the Bishop and I had answered some questions, which covered the usual things. I realized he was about to wrap up and stop. That's when I looked up and said to him, "May I add a comment?"
When I did, it dawned on me that that has been the nature of advocacy for the least evangelized peoples of the world. The topic rarely if ever comes up on its own. But what does that mean for me or any other advocate? Sit by and let the conversation return to the usual mission topics - evangelism and new church plants inside the diocese?
No, it means interrupting the flow of conversation, requesting the opportunity for a new thought, and spelling out the call of the Lord Jesus Christ to the church to go to each and every people group.
In this instance I made the observation that the theological climate in the church in the United States was tolerance, understanding that there are different religious views, and accepting of each one as valid, above criticism, and full of truth.
In that climate a church is highly unlikely to produce missionaries who want to go to those of other religious beliefs and tell them the Gospel of Jesus Christ - humbly, lovingly, respectfully, but tell them nonetheless.
Therefore, I told the congregation, come to the United States and Europe and re-evangelize us, if you want. But there is something else that must be done.
The Gospel must also to to Islamic North Africa, and for that to happen, it must be done by the Church of Uganda, the Church of Nigeria, and other African churches. The Lord is calling them to go there as well as inside their diocese, as well as the United States.
That's a comment that must be added, even if it means interrupting to make it.
When I did, it dawned on me that that has been the nature of advocacy for the least evangelized peoples of the world. The topic rarely if ever comes up on its own. But what does that mean for me or any other advocate? Sit by and let the conversation return to the usual mission topics - evangelism and new church plants inside the diocese?
No, it means interrupting the flow of conversation, requesting the opportunity for a new thought, and spelling out the call of the Lord Jesus Christ to the church to go to each and every people group.
In this instance I made the observation that the theological climate in the church in the United States was tolerance, understanding that there are different religious views, and accepting of each one as valid, above criticism, and full of truth.
In that climate a church is highly unlikely to produce missionaries who want to go to those of other religious beliefs and tell them the Gospel of Jesus Christ - humbly, lovingly, respectfully, but tell them nonetheless.
Therefore, I told the congregation, come to the United States and Europe and re-evangelize us, if you want. But there is something else that must be done.
The Gospel must also to to Islamic North Africa, and for that to happen, it must be done by the Church of Uganda, the Church of Nigeria, and other African churches. The Lord is calling them to go there as well as inside their diocese, as well as the United States.
That's a comment that must be added, even if it means interrupting to make it.
Friday, August 27, 2010
I wish I hadn't heard that.
When the bishops break for tea, all of us with booths get set for visitors. Yesterday one of the prominent bishops made the rounds before tea break, so he had time to visit each booth.
When he came to mine, Anglican Frontier Missions, I gave a very brief description of our effort. I said that we want to support efforts of bishops who want to see churches planted outside the Anglican Communion, especially in Islamic North Africa.
He paused, thought, and then gave one of the sorriest missions thinking around. What he said was that he had heard that some Anglicans in Egypt were reaching out into neighboring Libya.
Behind that is the belief that we can only reach out to those near by, and isn't it swell that Egyptian Christians are doing that with their neighbors in Libya.
I gave the simple reply that when Uganda was evangelized, the English missionaries left home and sailed thousands of miles to go beyond where their neighbors were.
Unfortunately that thinking I heard has a tight grip on most of the church, which explains why most of our efforts move our mission resources from one part of the Body of Christ to another part of the Body of Christ.
No, his mission thinking is not unusual, but I just hated to hear it from such a leader.
When he came to mine, Anglican Frontier Missions, I gave a very brief description of our effort. I said that we want to support efforts of bishops who want to see churches planted outside the Anglican Communion, especially in Islamic North Africa.
He paused, thought, and then gave one of the sorriest missions thinking around. What he said was that he had heard that some Anglicans in Egypt were reaching out into neighboring Libya.
Behind that is the belief that we can only reach out to those near by, and isn't it swell that Egyptian Christians are doing that with their neighbors in Libya.
I gave the simple reply that when Uganda was evangelized, the English missionaries left home and sailed thousands of miles to go beyond where their neighbors were.
Unfortunately that thinking I heard has a tight grip on most of the church, which explains why most of our efforts move our mission resources from one part of the Body of Christ to another part of the Body of Christ.
No, his mission thinking is not unusual, but I just hated to hear it from such a leader.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Baba Kafunchan
The All Africa Bishops Conference was more than slightly intimidating to this retired oyster raiser from the Northern Neck of Virginia. This struck home smartly as I entered the huge hall my first morning where the daily Eucharist had already started.
All settled down well inside me as I recognized my friend from several trips, the Bishop of Kafuncan, William Diya, fondly called Baba Kafunchan. That title reflects his status of elder statesman among the leaders of the House of Bishops of the Anglican Church of Nigeria, as well as a leader in faith and love.
He speaks gently with a soft voice but with strong faith, clear direction, and calm authority. Anglican Frontier Missions sponsored him for training in Singapore in 2000 for leading his diocese into work among an unreached people. The people he chose to work with were the Kanuri. Why? Because, he said, they were the first of the nomads of northern Nigeria to wear the mantle of Islam, and so he wanted them to be the first to become Christian. The trainer for that month, Frank Teo, was impressed with how this older bishop was a learner and how wise was his approach for the Kanuri.
Some of us from St. Stephen's visited him on two different occasions. We heard of his near escape from thugs during a time of religious violence, and also of his provision for Fulani converts who need a safe place after embracing Jesus Christ.
So to spot him at the Eucharist, and, happily, next to an empty chair, put me in the presence of piety, humility, faith, and sweet friendship. And that was the end of conference intimidation.
All settled down well inside me as I recognized my friend from several trips, the Bishop of Kafuncan, William Diya, fondly called Baba Kafunchan. That title reflects his status of elder statesman among the leaders of the House of Bishops of the Anglican Church of Nigeria, as well as a leader in faith and love.
He speaks gently with a soft voice but with strong faith, clear direction, and calm authority. Anglican Frontier Missions sponsored him for training in Singapore in 2000 for leading his diocese into work among an unreached people. The people he chose to work with were the Kanuri. Why? Because, he said, they were the first of the nomads of northern Nigeria to wear the mantle of Islam, and so he wanted them to be the first to become Christian. The trainer for that month, Frank Teo, was impressed with how this older bishop was a learner and how wise was his approach for the Kanuri.
Some of us from St. Stephen's visited him on two different occasions. We heard of his near escape from thugs during a time of religious violence, and also of his provision for Fulani converts who need a safe place after embracing Jesus Christ.
So to spot him at the Eucharist, and, happily, next to an empty chair, put me in the presence of piety, humility, faith, and sweet friendship. And that was the end of conference intimidation.
All I want is a bed!
Somehow four hours passed between a very soft landing in Entebbe and laying down my head.
My traveling companion found his bag was back in Schiphol, so that required red tape. The hotel needed a reminder to pick us up. Then came the conversation with reception at the hotel.
This is the Imperial Beach Resort Hotel on Lake Victoria, one of three and all in a row. For this conference there were 400 bishops and nearly as many hangers on. Many rooms taken, but I had sent in my money and was assured of a reservation.
That's not what the clerk told me, but he arranged for us to go to hotel number 3 where we would have a room. He said that hesitatingly. There at reception at #3 I was told to wait. This was after 30 hours of travel. Wait? All I wanted was a bed.
Instead I was called to the phone to speak to the conference coordinator who wasn't sure I was registered after all. In spite of e-mail confirmation.
With expressions of regret I was told I had a room - with two beds, one for that other guy sitting at a nearby chair.
They were embarrassed, I was thrilled. I had a bed in a room with a shower and a pillow. And my roommate's 13 year-old daughter had sent him with chocolate chip cookies. They were wonderful.
My traveling companion found his bag was back in Schiphol, so that required red tape. The hotel needed a reminder to pick us up. Then came the conversation with reception at the hotel.
This is the Imperial Beach Resort Hotel on Lake Victoria, one of three and all in a row. For this conference there were 400 bishops and nearly as many hangers on. Many rooms taken, but I had sent in my money and was assured of a reservation.
That's not what the clerk told me, but he arranged for us to go to hotel number 3 where we would have a room. He said that hesitatingly. There at reception at #3 I was told to wait. This was after 30 hours of travel. Wait? All I wanted was a bed.
Instead I was called to the phone to speak to the conference coordinator who wasn't sure I was registered after all. In spite of e-mail confirmation.
With expressions of regret I was told I had a room - with two beds, one for that other guy sitting at a nearby chair.
They were embarrassed, I was thrilled. I had a bed in a room with a shower and a pillow. And my roommate's 13 year-old daughter had sent him with chocolate chip cookies. They were wonderful.
The Wonders of Schiphol Airport
What better place to kill three hours before the flight to Entebbe, Uganda, than Schiphol Airport! Where else can you find an exhibit of Ruysdael 50 yards from a casino?
Yes, there I was with nothing to do but wander and wonder. The only thing kind of scuzzy is the men's rooms, but why hang out there when there are places to see and things to buy?
Yes, the Amsterdam Museum has a gallery there. Some fine Ruysdael and others for leisurely viewing. That’s upstairs. On the ground floor is the museum shop. Yes, I bought. A fine DVD on Van Gogh, and some cards to go along. Well, it was our 42nd anniversary, which I spent in the air. The least I could do for my art history major and artist wife.
Just behind the museum shop is the casino, for which one must show the boarding pass. Smoking was allowed and it looked dark and dingy inside. On to more things to see. The diamond store with large glittering stones. Holland tulips, which were wooden – always in season. Every new electronic gadget on the market. My only purchase was chervil seeds, a frequent ingredient in Julia Child but missing from US grocery stores.
I even had time for an omelet, certainly my last for some time. I spotted the kiosk where I will buy the red bottle of mineral water for my return trip . A deep rouge red and strong plastic, which I will carry on the door of our car as a reminder of one of our favorite places to hang out. \
Next time I hope it will be with Constance, and I won’t have to buy anything at all.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I'm leaving!
It's migration time for the warblers, with or without bands. And it's travel time for me again. This time I am heading east and south - to Uganda and then to Nigeria. A five week trip, this one is, the longest one I've ever done without Constance.
The first event, beginning August 24th (our anniversary - how bad is that for timing?) is the meeting of all the Anglican bishops of Africa. I'm going to represent Anglican Frontier Missions and brazenly lobby for these men to expand their mission vision.
They do vigorous and sacrificial evangelism and church planting in their dioceses, but that leaves out 400 million Muslims and 100 million followers of African Traditional Religions. I'll have more to say about that to the bishops.
At the other end of the trip is the 20th anniversary of my diocese, the Diocese of Makurdi, in Nigeria. The bishop, the Rt. Rev. N. N. Inyom, asked me to be there for this event. He will have lots of assignments for me in Nigeria for my four weeks there.
That's the outline. More to come about the trip before I leave. Then the occasional posting as time moves on. Amsterdam airport, Lake Victoria, yet another AFM booth, 4:00 AM Ethiopian Air to Nigeria, Fulani nomads, and a cathedral in Makurdi that keeps growing by moving the back wall as more people keep joining.
The first event, beginning August 24th (our anniversary - how bad is that for timing?) is the meeting of all the Anglican bishops of Africa. I'm going to represent Anglican Frontier Missions and brazenly lobby for these men to expand their mission vision.
They do vigorous and sacrificial evangelism and church planting in their dioceses, but that leaves out 400 million Muslims and 100 million followers of African Traditional Religions. I'll have more to say about that to the bishops.
At the other end of the trip is the 20th anniversary of my diocese, the Diocese of Makurdi, in Nigeria. The bishop, the Rt. Rev. N. N. Inyom, asked me to be there for this event. He will have lots of assignments for me in Nigeria for my four weeks there.
That's the outline. More to come about the trip before I leave. Then the occasional posting as time moves on. Amsterdam airport, Lake Victoria, yet another AFM booth, 4:00 AM Ethiopian Air to Nigeria, Fulani nomads, and a cathedral in Makurdi that keeps growing by moving the back wall as more people keep joining.
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