Another day, another adventure

My time here in Iringa has fallen into a pattern of sorts. Each day, I travel to a congregation here in the diocese that is holding a class in the Theological Education by Extension (TEE) program. I am  accompanied by Rev. Vallence Chaula, director of the TEE progam, and Rev. Lusungu Msigwa, director of the Bega Kwa Bega office for the diocese, who is serving as my translator. Chaula drives (they tend to go by last names here), and he and Msigwa keep up a lively banter while we make our way through city streets or mountain roads, driving anywhere from 30 minutes to three hours to reach our destination.

(Thursday's trip took us to the mountain village of Idete. Msigwa is on the left, and Chaula is next to him in the green shirt.)

Once we arrive, we are welcomed with a light breakfast in the pastor's house, then we meet with a class of TEE students. After a round of introductions, we observe a class in session, and the students discuss the assigned reading for the week, facilitated by one of the lay leaders. Msigwa translates the conversation for me, and after a while, he and I move to a nearby office, where I proceed to interview three or four students, one at a time, about what has helped them become better leaders.

Today we visited the congregation at Ipogolo, a congregation I had heard much about since they are partnered with Augustana, the church I served as pastor from 2003-2008. After the interviews, when Msigwa and I went back into the sanctuary to say our thanks to the gathered students, we found something unexpected. We were met by around two dozen leaders from the Diocesan office, getting out of their cars and entering the church. To make a long story short, they were coming to make a pastoral visit to the mother of one of the workers at Radio Furaha, the Lutheran radio station. The woman had suffered a stroke over a year ago, but her recovery had stalled, and she had been unable to return to work and was quite depressed. The staff had collected an offering, and they came in a large group to deliver it. Since she was a member of Ipogolo, they invited Pastor Nixon and the others to join them, so we all piled into our vehicles and made the short drive to the woman's home. There we gathered in her courtyard and proceeded to sing and pray while the tears ran down her cheeks. She kept saying, over and over, "Asante, asante sana" (Thank you, thank you so much).

Then came the offering, and the visitors proceeded to bring in large bags of flour, rice, beans, charcoal, clothing, vegetable oil, and more. We were all invited to give monetary offerings, as well, and soon the plate was full. 

The leader of the visit, Pastor Kinyoa, then invited us all to pray, and pray we did, simultaneously, some laying their hands on the woman and her family, others with their hands raised in the air, offering our blessings and our prayers for strength, healing, peace, and hope in the midst of struggle.

It was, quite simply, the church at its best, showing up in the midst of a difficult and uncertain situation, offering both tangible gifts and spiritual support, making a real difference in the life of one hurting family. I'm learning a lot in my short time here, and I'm grateful that I can get a brief glimpse into the life of this church that is so strong, so vibrant, and so compassionate. Asante, asante sana.