The Church

Yesterday we visited Marera Primary School in the villages outside of Kisumu, Kenya to see the Umoja school lunch program. From there Elizabeth and I joined Linda and Madame Cipress (the LINK teacher at Huma Primary School). Together we did home visits. We visited three guardians, all widows, and the children that they raised. The experience was a beautiful and challenging. It was such a gift to see the homes of the orphans, vulnerable children, widows, and guardians. I felt beyond welcomed into their homes – their hospitality and openness was astounding. But it was so challenging to walk into a home and see the faces of the children – sometimes numbering seven or more in one home. Listening to an elderly woman who attempts to feed and pay school fees for that many children stirred emotions that can’t really be described. But to see her trust in God to provide is a quality I can only hope that I can learn while here. 

The home visits that we did yesterday filled me with joy and apprehension. Looking at these lives that are so different from my own, all I can ask is what is my role here? Why did God want me here? What do I have to offer the Kenyans? From my brief stay here I can tell you many things that the people of Kenyans have to offer me and teach me about life. But I’m still wondering what my gifts are and where they factor in here. 

But I was reminded of our first Sunday in Indianapolis; we attended the early service at North UMC. It was youth Sunday, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. However, service was beautiful and provided me with a great introduction to North. We heard one girl, a graduating senior, speak of North as a place that allowed her to meet people from different walks of life. How North taught her, not just about justice, but about the realities of injustice. North challenged her to think and accepted her for her personal thoughts, beliefs, and convictions. How North cherished and supported her despite her unconventional approaches to faith. Her story was beautiful, eloquent, and honest. It was not only a wonderful introduction to the church that I am briefly interning at, it was a timely reminder of what the church is called to be. 

The church is called to educate – not just on the words of scripture but on the action, passion, and drive behind the gospel. We are called to accept all people – regardless of age, sex, race, ethnicity, belief, sexual-identity, cultural practice, or any other matter. We are called to serve. What a powerful message to receive from an eighteen year old. What a way to start this journey. 

Perhaps my role here is to learn from the Kenyans what a hospitable church looks like. Perhaps it is to see the Umoja Project taking up the call of the church – putting scripture into action and service. Perhaps I am here to listen and to simply live among other Christians. But maybe my call here is the same that it is in the US. Maybe I am called to be the church – the church that truly educates its congregation and the world, the church that accepts all people because they are the children of God, a church that engages in service. I pray that through my time here I learn to better be the church. I’m pretty optimistic about that.

¨Poco a Poco¨

I learned a very important phrase my first week in Guatemala: "poco a poco" or "little by little." It seems that's how I'm doing everything here, adjusting to the differences in food and climate, getting the lay of the city, learning the language, working up the courage to try to use what I'm learning with my host family and people I meet around Xela... It has required much more patience than I expected to only creep forward in my goals each day. I had grand visions of what I'd be able to say and understand after my time at the language school, but after almost 100 hours of instruction I still only catch segments of the conversation when people speak to me. I still keep my Spanish- English dictionary close by to look up the seemingly endless supply of words I don't know and search my notebook trying to remember when to use which tense and which verbs are irregular. Some days I'm amazed and encouraged by how well I'm doing-- who knew I'd be able to hold a coherent conversation with my host father about race relations in the US?-- but others I can't seem to formulate a decent Spanish sentence to save my life. 

 

However, I've been mercifully reminded lately that this slow, sometimes faltering pace is how Christ transforms us too. Both as individual Christians and as the communal church we are all being made into a new creations "poco a poco". Just as in Spanish, in prayer, ministry, and studying Scripture, sometimes the words simply will not come, neither from me or to me. One day I wake up thirsting for Scripture and enjoy a refreshing and fulfilling time of prayer or a meaningful conversation articulating or recieving some truth about God, and another the weight of my failures keeps me awake late into the night trying to figure out how to begin a prayer that I'm never able to form. It isn't always (or even often) a consistent forward motion towards spiritual growth, but I AM being shaped into the woman God has created and called me to be, "poco a poco."  I am far from her today, just as the church is far from the bride she is intended to be, but we are in the process, inching our way "poco a poco" towards a God who is always faithfully reaching out to us to guide us to Godself, a God who knows our frame and remembers that we are but dust (Psalm 103:14), a God with incredibly realistic expectations about both our successes and our failures. And there is great hope in that. 

"Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and souls and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it." 1 Thessalonians 5:12

Hello from Hillcrest!

Hello fellow Duke Div international voyagers! I cannot believe I've already been in South Africa for two and a half weeks! Time flies when you're having fun, that's for sure. There's SO much I can share, but I'll try to keep it to a short overview. Last week I visited a creche (kind of like a day care or a preschool) out in the really rural areas (which are only like 15 minutes from my church). The Women's Auxiliary (what we Methodists would call United Methodist Women) at my church saved up money to buy bulks of fabric to make track suits for kids in these rural areas. They made like 300 or so track suits for the kids in these areas so that they will have some warm clothes this winter. Last week they had a track-a-thon to sew all of the outfits, and I have to say delivering them was one of the best things I've done recently. Even though I couldn't even communicate with the kids other than saying hi and how are you (Zulu is tough to learn!), I would help them get dressed in the track suits and you could just see the gratitude on their faces. Many of them would give me a huge hug afterwards--it was so sweet! It was an absolutely wonderful day! I've spent a lot of my time working at the Hillcrest AIDS Center, which is a non-profit founded by a former pastor of Hillcrest Methodist Church, where I'm working. Working at the AIDS Center is both heartbreaking and beautiful. On Friday, I walked in to see a woman sobbing next to her niece, who looked like she couldn't have been older than 15. She was incredibly emaciated, and unfortunately I wouldn't be surprised if she passes away before I go back later this week. I've learned that KwaZulu-Natal is the only province in SA that has had a negative birth rate over the past few years due to AIDS, so it's definitely a bit difficult here. I prayed with some patients and changed everybody's water pitchers in the respite unit, which is where all of the terminal patients are. I'm really enjoying being in ministry there, but it certainly takes a lot out of me emotionally. Our district of churches (also called a circuit) has partnered with the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection in Kansas (Adam Hamilton's church) and COR has helped plant 7 churches in our circuit. I got to visit to one of them as we prayed over it and now officially be worshipping there. The one lady who is the head of the Manyana (the name for the Women's Auxiliary in the black Methodist churches) couldn't get over the fact that I was a unfondise (meaning minister in Zulu). She was just so excited--it was so sweet. I'm going to go worship with them in a few weeks. Additionally, I'm helping plan a conference that will take place with our circuit and members from Church of the Resurrection in July, right before I leave. There have been a bunch of conference calls and organizing going on for that--it's been super busy! But thankfully I've had a lot of experience planning conferences with my job at Winthrop (back in the day before I was a seminary student), and everyone is super happy that I'm helping out with this because I'm helping tie a lot of loose ends that they have overlooked. So everything is superb so far! Can't wait to read all of the updates from y'all!!! grace&pace, Megan

Week 1 of my South African Experience

After 44 hours, 5 airports, and 4 flights, I arrived! As of Monday, the 21st I am in Port Elizabeth (PE), South Africa and have received the warmest welcome by the staff and parishioners of Newton Park Methodist Church. In fact hospitality seems to be the theme of my trip thus far, perhaps God is trying to elucidate something about the spiritual discipline for me.

I had an eight hour layover in London. I had never been to Europe even, so I knew I must take advantage of this opportunity. I have always wanted to visit London, yet when the opportunity arose I was overwhelmed. There are so many must-sees and dos, what could I really do in my few hours? Posing the question only a local could solve, a friend put me in contact with one of her friends who lives in London. I thought he might tell me where to go and what was reasonable to do in my timeframe, I never expected the reception I received. My new friend, Lyall, could not have provided a better day. He wanted to make sure I got a true taste of London. When I travel I seek a local’s experience, rather than that of a tourist. My day in Greater London consisted of visiting Hampton Court Palace where Henry VIII lived, touring Surrey (with commentary, so I got to soak in what living there would really be like), and lunch in a classic English Pub of their signature dish–Yorkshire Pudding. Hampton Court Palace was beautiful and so pertinent to my discipline. We toured the gardens, the palace, and of course we had to take on the maze. Our accomplishment is pictured below, and I am proud to say we beat our 10 year old fellow visitors in the race to the center.

The day in London was a great break in my long commute, and Lyall’s hospitable spirit was just what I needed to be readied for the reception that awaited me in South Africa. Rowan, my supervisor and Senior Pastor of the Church in which I am interning (Newton Park Methodist), and Lisa, the Youth Pastor, were waiting for me at the PE airport when I arrived. I was greeted with hugs and excitement, and was taken to the church to see the facilities, meet my host, and to be greeted by more warm welcomes. I cannot imagine a more empowering and gifted staff. I was greeted with familiarity; just as I have been preparing for months to venture here they have been awaiting me. I have been showered with gifts of welcome. Everyone here is so thoughtful, and is striving to make sure that I am comfortable and have what I need.

There’s also been an effort to make sure I’m getting a fair taste of South African cuisine. In fact on Tuesday (my first full day here) a welcome dinner was held for me in Rowan’s home so I could meet several of the church’s leaders. I loved hearing each person’s connection and dedication to the church. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that numerous persons of the church community are PE born and raised and lifelong members of Newton Park Methodist Church. They are proud of their community and so eager to share it with me. I am excited to learn from them, yet they are excited and open to learning from me.

Can you imagine such a welcoming community? I am not sure I fully grasped the spiritual discipline of hospitality until meeting such dear, new friends as Lyall and those of Newton Park Methodist Church. Yet, they are so naturally inclined to being so. For instance, I was told that when the church heard they had a Southerner coming they thought they better up “their game” to compete with Southern Hospitality. I laughed with appreciation at the familiarity of our ideal, but truly we’ve got nothing on them.

I had a crash course in the Methodist Church of South Africa this week at Synod. It is similar to Annual Conferences of the United Methodist Church in the US. I got to meet numerous pastors in the area, participate in worship and observe voting sessions at Synod. Held in a township, members of that community led us in worship. A choir of beautiful voices with South African dialects led us in worship in several common languages of the area, including English, Afrikaans, and Xhosa. Xhosa you will recognize as the African tribal language with “clicks”–I’ve been practicing.

I was also able to help with youth on Friday evening and with leading worship Sunday morning. This was a good taste of the duties that await me for the duration of my time here. Youth is a very exciting time. The younger children play games alongside an interactive Bible lesson. Whereas, the older youth meet in their youth room that they have transformed into a coffee shop. Everyone hangs out, sips coffee, and then a short interactive lesson is taught. Each of these formats are familiar, but so enticing. The youth are passionate about the lessons and so active in growing their ministry. They own their ministry in an empowering way. A person’s age does not reflect their ministerial ability; we must remember to trust in them, for they will lead the Church universal.

Being from music country I was quickly put on the Worship team, so Sunday morning I lead worship in song (with two other vocal leaders), led prayer, and read the Pentecost story, Acts 2:1-21. It was a great way to get my feet wet, without total immersion. You may remember, Pentecost is the event when the Spirit overcame apostles and gave them the ability to speak many tongues. After I read the Scripture, Rowan jokingly said how nice it was for the congregation to hear the Pentecost story in a different tongue. Meant to be a joke, because my primary language is the same as the majority of the congregants. Yet, my accent is quite different from that of the congregation. Therefore, it served as a good reminder to the fluid nature of the Spirit and the significance for persons of different tongues (and even dialects) to be able to communicate and find common ground through our belief and reverence for God. It was significant for me to hear dialects different from my own throughout the worship service, as well.

I’ll close this week’s post with the most humorous event of the week–yesterday’s driving lesson. Let me begin with saying that my host, Janet, is a saint. She has welcomed me into her home wholeheartedly–even refers to it as ‘our’ home. I have my own bedroom and bath for the duration of my stay, and am quite comfortable. She is so hospitable that she let me borrow her car yesterday to get acquainted with the roads. With her sweet and calm spirit, she directed me in the best tactics for taking on PE’s roads. Believe it or not I am driving a manual transmission car, on the opposite side of the car, on the opposite side of the road, while turning on my indicator (rather than blinker) to turn, and reading my kilometer speedometer (miles are never mentioned).

This first week has been a whirlwind. Yet, with driving under my belt and such a great reception I could not be feeling more at home. I am truly blessed to be here. I know it is God’s intention for me, yet I do not know yet if this calling is for what I will learn from this community or for what I will bring to it. Pray it is a combination of the two. God works in wonderful and mysterious ways. I am living one of the most significant seasons of my life thus far, and could not be more excited about how it is educating my ministry. I am a sponge, soaking up so much everyday. I learn from each conversation and each new custom I am exposed to. God’s people are constant though. My newfound community is familiar, because, like me, they are striving to live enslaved to righteousness (Acts 6). My engaging in this community is growing my ability to do so; I can only hope it is doing the same for those surrounding me.