Saturday, July 26, 2008

Uganda: Every Tribe


"After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb...And they cried out in a loud voice: 'Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb." Revelation 7:9-10

Last Sunday my colleague Angela and I traveled with a priest to one of the 16 missions overseen by our parish church. These missions are composed of parish members who have no means to travel the distance from their extremely rural and isolated villages to the main church. They are visited by the priest for a service perhaps once a month (or less).
We bounced along a fissured dirt road past increasingly isolated and sparse villages, and then priest turned off the mud road and onto what appeared as a overgrown footpath barely visible amid the weeds. We drove for miles into the Ugandan “bush,” lurching and jostling between banana trees and cassava plants. The priest explained as we drove just how difficult life is at many of these missions. The people live many miles from the nearest store of any kind, and not a single person owns any sort of vehicle. They grow all the food they eat, but basic commodities like sugar, salt, and soap are very difficult to acquire.
When we arrived at the mission, the congregation was already gathered and had been patiently awaiting our arrival for several hours. Their humble church is in such poor condition that there is serious risk that it could collapse any moment upon their heads. Just the week before I had visited the rubble of another mission church which had collapsed upon and injured several church members. Therefore at this mission the congregation was avoiding danger by sitting outside under a canopy of tarps tied together by banana leaves and held up by sticks.

Part of the reason for our visit on this particular Sunday was to dedicate a new well that had been paid for by an American church. The gratitude of the villagers was overwhelming, because up until now their nearest well had been several miles away. It would take the children the better part of the day to collect jugs of water for their families and carry them home. Many children, we were told, had been drinking bacteria-ridden pond water. All the important persons of the village stood up and gave speeches about the need to care for this precious well, and a whole committee was selected to supervise and guard it.

At the end of the service that day, the priest appealed to those could afford to do so to try to save enough to give 500 shillings a month to help support their church, whose latrine is collapsing in addition to the building. This is the American equivalent of about 30 cents, but for many in this mission, to even think of sparing such a sum would be a major gesture of faith. 30 cents a month, a mighty sacrifice. My heart aches even in recalling it, and I find myself burning to cry out, “My American brothers and sisters in Christ, what are we doing?! What have we done?! We begrudge God the smallest sacrifices when the widow’s offering (Luke 21:1-4) is real and is happening every single day. Let us open our eyes and see our lives and hearts truthfully! Our brothers and sisters in Kikungo are calling us to repentance.”

The headmaster of the mission school told us that of the 350 students attending, only 30 will eat any sort of lunch each day. As guests, of course, we were served a lunch of matooke (steamed green bananas) with a kind of broth composed of little chicken bones that had been covered in water and cooked in banana leaves. As I watched the people around me hungrily consuming handfuls of matooke, I’ve never been more honored to partake of a meal.

What I will remember forever, however, is around in the middle of the service and seeing men and women with their hands clasped together and their faces turned upward, singing praises to the great mercy of Yesu Kristu (Jesus Christ). It hit me as I stood there that if there really is such a place as the “ends of the earth,” I might be pretty close to it, yet even here the name of Jesus Christ is honey upon the lips of a hungry people. The praises of God are being sung in corners of the globe we have never imagined, in places we as Americans can barely fathom. Here in the bush where survival is itself a daily struggle, even here the name of Jesus Christ is lifted high. And God is pleased by their worship. He is so, so pleased. We ourselves have become witnesses of Scripture fulfilled, of the ancient promises of God being made good. God is writing His name on all nations and tribes and tongues, and they are being called His People. Glory to the name of the One who has done this! Amina. Amen.
Meghan Good (with Angela MacDonald)

Friday, July 25, 2008

Learning & Loving in South Africa


I have learned much about seeing God in every situation. I have realized that God is not limited to my beliefs about Him. I have never thought of myself as one who puts God in a box, but I have come to realize that some of the “rules” and traditions that I have abided by have constricted me to believe in a big God who works within a big box. God has shown me that He is so much bigger than my mind and preconceived notions allow Him to be, and that He is not by any means limited to work in the ways that I associate with being right. I have undeniably experienced God working in ways which some may deem as unorthodox, and rightly so. I have come to believe that our theological ideas of orthodoxy are quite different from what God deems as orthodox. Although I believe that orthodoxy is theologically necessary for us, I have been awakened by the fact that God does not only work in the midst of orthodoxy, His presence and power can be found where heresy and apostasy are present. God does not need orthodoxy—although He works within it, He also works without it. Since God is sovereign He manages to even use the unorthodox to glorify His name. My semi-tightly woven theology has slowly been unraveling to make more room for a God that cannot be contained by man's doctrines and ideals. So, maybe it is not right to say God is unorthodox, but it is better to say that God is not limited to our ideals of orthodoxy. My mind and heart have become more open to the way the Spirit of God works in this world. There is more of an acknowledgment and acceptance of God's mystery that is at work. So, in whom did I meet Jesus during this stay? I met Him in the relativists, heretics, Pharisees, and the drunkards. Praise be unto our God who has revealed Himself in mighty ways, taught me more about Him here in South Africa and who shall forever graciously be destroying the boxes that I attempt to force Him into.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

She Told Me Her Name


A group from England was here last week and we spent most of our time working at the Miss Stone Center (The Meals on Wheels Program), but we also went to two villages and they put together a program to lead for the children at the churches. On Tuesday we were at the village of Monespitevo and the group from England were leading the children in a lesson about Daniel in the Lion's Den. Of course, local children heard that something was going on, so during the craft, a group of children were seen peeking through the gate. Jo, one of the people from England, invited them in and all of a sudden we had almost doubled the amount of children and there were only two translators. At first it was chaos as we tried to get the children situated and started on their craft. Two young girls came to me and I realized that they were too young to write the Bible verse on the craft. I tried to tell them who I was in Macedonian, but they were too shy to answer me, so I began to copy the bible verse on their craft in Cyrillic. Halfway through writing the verse I recognized a phrase that one of the girls was saying. “Yas suhm Adriana.” My head immediately came up and I realized that she was talking to me, and that she had told me her name. She then proceeded to tell me the other girls name and asked for mine. Although this may seem to be a minor event, it was huge for me. I recognized a Macedonian phrase and did not have to think about what it meant, I just knew. Not only that, but I could answer her back in Macedonian and could even understand more of what she was saying. It was a very joyous evening for me.


This experience has given me a little more confidence to try and speak more Macedonian to the people around me. I have realized that since then, more people are willing to talk to me in English and will even help me a little in understanding more Macedonian. Language is very important to Macedonians because it sets them apart from other cultures and contributes to their identity as a people. The people here seem to respect me for just trying to learn it. Not only that but I can now ask and understand a person's name, which is also extremely important to identity as well. The people here are proud of their heritage and their history and learning more of who they are, even their name and language, is important to them.


Reflecting on this has made me think about how important identity is for me and for others around me. I am very proud of my name and the history behind that, as well as where I come from. Loletuth and Kentucky are a way for me to explain why I am the way I am. I also think that the fact that I am Methodist also contributes to my identity. It is common here for people to say what church they go to, especially if they hear that you are working in one. For them, the church you attend is part of your identity, even if it is not part of your actual life. This concept makes me think of what identity in Christ actually means. For most of the people here, it is what church you belong too, and not the way in which you live. There is constant bickering between the Protestants and the Orthodox over which church is better. Often times you wonder if many of these people understand that in essence it truly does not matter; it is how deeply you live for Christ and not what church you attend. My identity is defined by what God is doing in my life and more importantly, how do I express and live out that identity for others? It is this question that I must answer myself and also what I should to understand about others as well. To seek to learn their identity not just by their name, place, and language, but by who they are in Christ. Of course, this requires me to love them no matter the cost.


Perhaps I have placed too much emphasis on the language barrier and need to think outside of the box and find an even deeper way of communicating my identity and the identity of others. I can connect to others because I have put on Christ and can find others who have done the same. It is through this identity that we can find our connection and a way to communicate that is truly beyond earthly means. We have the connection of our identity in Christ. Not only that but I must try to find a way to challenge others to find their identity in Christ and to learn how that identity is far more revealing of who you truly are then even your name, place, and language.


I do rejoice in the experience of being able to begin understanding Macedonian, but I also realize this means that I now have to seek to understand who people are beyond that, and realize it is probably something I should have been doing all along

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Preparando (Getting ready)

Two months ago, my wife (Stephanie) and I (Daniel) never would have imagined that we would be packing up and going to Peru for the summer.  When I walked into the office to find out where we would be this summer, I was startled to hear that we were being asked to go to South America for the summer.  After considering this possibility, we could see how God had been preparing us for this opportunity.  Just this past year I had been asked to do an internship with Spanish-speaking children at La Estrella Resplandeciente.  In the internship, I was able to learn from Pastor Lucho Reinoso, who is from Peru and taught me about Latin American diversity and cultures, from the the volunteers, and from the children, who taught me how to listen and not assume that I know what they are feeling or experiencing.  Also, I was given the opportunity to improve my oral and auditory Spanish proficiency.   Moreover, Stephanie and I became friends this past year with a couple at our church, one of whom is Peruvian and just moved to the States.  Needless to say, the offer of a placement into Peru opened a window into a portion of God's desires.  

Seeing God's hand throughout our two month preparation, we have been blessed with wonderful mentors and prayerful friends and family.  We are excited to leave in a few days to see what God has in store for us to learn, the relationships God will orchestrate, the ways God will use us.  Only God knows what will happen.