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.