My earliest memory is lying in a playpen at Ridgecrest.  I grew up at church in a class called Mission Friends (taught by my mother), and after that Royal Ambassadors.  Once a year I sat in a VBS class for a week, and when I outgrew it I taught one instead.  My teen years were spent going to Centrifuge Camps at Skycroft, in Maryland or Ridgecrest, in North Carolina (including the obligatory tangent over to Sliding Rock) and being involved in the National Drama Society (NDS).  I knew who Annie Armstrong and Lottie Moon were long before Martin Luther and John Calvin, and I listened to Charles Stanley on the radio almost every night. In high school when I went on mission trips to Oklahoma, my support partially came from the Home Mission Board.

Right now you are in one of two camps, you either have no clue what I am talking about (and what it has to do with Africa) or you have just confirmed your suspicions that I grew up Southern Baptist. There was a Methodist and Community church in the same town as my church but we didn’t really talk to them much. We didn’t hate them or anything and we certainly considered them Christians, they just had their business and we had ours and sometimes we’d team up for something but mostly we had our own separate booths at the town fair.

Often in church history, small doctrinal errors end up getting magnified over time into major problems within the church.  The early church needed somebody to decide whether Christians who had rejected Jesus under Roman torture should be allowed back into the church, and they gave that power to the priest.  Move 1000 years forward and the priest, not you, decided where you stood with Christ (obviously I’m summarizing).  Africa is not immune to history, and because of the amazing mission revolution of the early 1900’s, much of Africa’s modern church history starts with America and the West.

Within Ugandan Christian gatherings here, often the second question Heather and I are asked (after our names) is what denomination we are.  Being part of Soma Communities, my answer is “non-denominational” which usually gives rise to a confused look on their face.  They will often press for more information and at that point I try to explain Acts 29 to them and the famous Open-Handed vs. Close-Handed doctrinal system A29 uses to support church planters.  Sometimes they think it’s cool, but often they get angry, Presbyterians and Baptists and Pentecostals and what-have-you all working together does NOT fly in Africa.

How did this happen? Two things I think.  When we westerners came as missionaries, we didn’t come as one church, and in fact as the denominations in the States tried to one-up each other with their foreign mission work, they would stamp their denominational logo on anything they did here.  Second, we didn’t recognize that Africans are tribal; their identity is strongly linked not to who they are but what tribe they belong to, and when many Africans became Christians, their denomination became their new tribe.  So while in America the Baptist and Methodist church may be across the street and even share the same parking lot, in Africa it is not unheard of for Christians to get into a brawl or even shoot one another because they were part of the “wrong” denomination.  And before those of you who attend non-denominational churches think you’re off the hook, denominationalism can come in the form of “John Piperism,” “Tim Kellerism,” or any local church member who thinks his doctrine is so rock solid that other Christians might as well jump off the boat (not that Piper or Keller think that but many of their followers do).

So what do we do? I think first we pray; God is in control and I think actually it is by God’s grace that this denominationalism is not as bad as it potentially could have become.  I DO know that no missionary called by Jesus comes with any intent of malice and really does just desire for the Gospel to be heard and to make disciples of all nations.  I am not attempting to vilify those who packed their belongings in a casket and blindly came to this world out of a love for the Gospel.  Second I think maybe when we come to Africa we should worry less about making sure they know it was a Southern Baptist church and not a Presbyterian church that helped out, and focus more on the fact that Jesus sent us and Jesus is why we are here. We need to let go of that need we have for OUR church to be recognized for the work IT is doing, and admit we are all just servants of Christ acting out of a unified love (not our love but HIS).

Finally, I think we gently instruct and show Africans that we ARE one church. Maybe the next time your church plans a mission trip, consider teaming up with some other local churches. I’m still figuring out what this looks like, but I’ll end with a fun story. It has been my pleasure to spend time with a group of local pastors and church planters at the Pastor Training Center here at the ranch. I was sitting in with them one day when they began arguing over the denominational biases of the NIV bible. So it was with great joy and surprise to them that I had them all turn to the preface of their copies of the NIV and read this sentence:

“That they were from many denominations-including Anglican, Assemblies of God, Baptist, Brethren, Christian Reformed, Church of Christ, Evangelic Free, Lutheran, Mennonite, Methodist, Nazarene, Presbyterian, Wesleyan and other churches-helped to safeguard the translation from sectarian bias.”

-PHD

How do you make a Radio that needs 3xD Batteries work with 2xC Batteries?

LIKE THIS! Those are Ugandan Shillings sandwiched in there. I think this sort of “just make it work” mentality is the very definition of Ugandan ingenuity. There is a story here at the Ranch of how someone spotted a Truck with its hood up driving along the road at full speed. Wondering what crazy driver this was the person passed the truck, only to reveal that a Ugandan was standing on the front bumper of the truck working on the engine while it was speeding down the highway. That is Uganda, friends. One of the primary reasons we came to Uganda was to learn about Christ’s Church as it exists here. We are after all one Church united, so in reality the Church we attend here is actually a part of your Church; we are all one body. One of the most amazing parts of being a Christian for me has been wherever I live I always have Brothers and Sisters nearby.

Our church building! This picture was taking on a Sunday evening so obviously the doors and windows are not closed up like this in the morning. On a Sunday morning it is literally swelling with people - it reminds me of Mars Hill Eastside with everyone crammed in that little building in Redmond, only even more crowded than that, and with wasps flying around your head. The Church is in Ntuuti, which is basically the first village you meet leaving the Ranch property. It’s about a 2 mile walk from our house to church in the morning.

Here is a basic rundown of a church service as we witnessed it so far: We usually arrive around 10:30am and the Service has already begun and been going for some unspecified amount of time but only about half the people have arrived. By 11am the building is pretty much packed. The pews are small wooden benches (about the height of pre-school chairs, I fold my legs as best I can underneath) lined up into 3 rows. The front area near the stage has woven mats instead of benches and that is where many of the children (“youts”, as they call them) sit. To the right of the stage are a few benches angled perpendicularly, where the choir and drummers sit. To the left of the stage is another angled bench with the soundman and keyboardist. The stage is basically a wooden riser with an offering table and chair for the Pastoress.

There is a first sermon given by some guest, which is usually in progress when we arrive. At this point the sound system has not been turned on and things are pretty low key. After that sermon a group of children march up from outside the building onto the stage and begin singing and dancing. Everyone is clapping and some of the ladies in the back of the church will shout out with a piercing African yodeling warcry. The whole time people are walking up and putting coins in the hands of those they liked. Somewhere around now the generator in the back of the church is fired up and the sound system and keyboard are brought online. This group of kids sings and dances down off the stage out of the church while the old ladies stand waving scarfs over them (I think to cool them off but it is also clearly part of their worship of God). Then a group of young men from CLA (those same young men who sang at the fellowship night) march onto stage to a roar of applause (The CLA boys are like the teen heart throbs of Ntuuti, Uganda) and begin singing. WHILE they are singing, the soundman and keyboardist do their sound checks, blowing into the microphones, testing the keyboard, creating all sorts of ugly feedback, and basically setting up the sound system. At some point the keyboardist turns on one of those pre-fab background drum beats (that does not match the beat of the song) and the soundman runs up with the two wired microphones to hand to a couple of the boys (creating more feedback and sound issues along the way), but no one seems to notice the cacophony of noise, chaos and disharmony: What my friend Matthew Josey might call his worst nightmare, the Ugandans consider just normal operations with no sense it could happen any differently (to be fair, petrol for the generator is very expensive, so even a basic sound check may cost a lot).

After the CLA boys are done (to much celebrity fanfare, women fainting, old ladies swooning) congregational singing begins. Everyone stands up, the choir begins singing, the drums begin booming, the keyboardist (who I am pretty sure doesn't know how to play piano) begins hitting some simple keys in rhythm and the congregation erupts with song. We sing, we clap, we dance, it’s great; the hardest part for me is not knowing the lyrics to the songs (most are in Luganda), but I’m starting to pick up a few words. There is one song they sing that is just the word “ Hallelujah” repeated so I can at least join along.

After almost an hour of singing people begin simultaneously praying. Now, I’m not pentecostal so this was all pretty new for me, but I don’t think it’s as extreme as people make it out to be. Some people quietly pray, others pray out loud in Luganda, Swahili or English, and some pray out loud in tongues. To be honest it’s not so far from a prayer night only if everyone was praying all at once. After the prayer a table is brought center stage for tithing. There are several baskets - one is for tithe, one is for thanksgiving, one is for children and I can’t remember the other ones. The choir sings while people worship by bringing up their offerings. Then the Pastoress stands up and we all raise our hands out over the offering and she prays.

Then the real preaching begins. Sometimes it’s the Pastoress who preaches, but more often it’s guest speakers. One person preaches while another translates. What’s interesting is the speaker will switch back and forth between English and Luganda and the translator just has to translate to the other. Listening can be difficult because the moment the preacher finishes a phrase the translator begins, but the preacher won’t wait for the translator, so what happens is you basically have two voices going at all times and you just need to pick out the language you understand. To me it sounds like an average conversation between any two people on the East Coast with both people talking at once, but Heather especially has a hard time with it.

Afterwards we pray some more, sing some more, and then a sort of “tithe bidding” begins. The Pastoress announces how much it cost to run the generator and other operating costs and she begins calling out for people to commit shillings so that there can be a service next week. So one person will raise their hand and commit 500 shillings and then another person will commit 1,000 shillings and on it goes until they have raised enough to have a service next week. Then they announce how impressed they are that Mzungu’s (us) stayed for a whole service, we pray again and that’s it, we’re out about 1:30pm. Heather and I normally make the two mile trek home with a crowd of children following us and holding our hands.

So that is my tour of a church service here in Africa. Here is what I want to say on the whole thing, The African church is not perfect, there are some pretty glaring issues actually, but the beauty of this church service is that it seems so clear to me that God must just delight and smile as these people worship, and ultimately that is what it is all about. There are a few other churches in the area we will be visiting but this will likely be our primary place of worship. We’ll be sure to keep you updated on what we learn and find at other churches.

Join us next week when we tell you about our visit to an African Primary School and our Easter Weekend! Until then I thought I’d leave you with one more little treat.

Now watch the little boy in the blue striped shirt in front of me…

BITER! He totally stole my idea! We miss you all, please continue to pray and write us. And leave us some comments on the blog as well, maybe some ideas of things you would like to hear about on the blog! Thanks for reading!

African Hospitality Institute Birthday

Shortly after Patrick and Heather arrived in Uganda, the African Hospitality Institute (AHI) celebrated their 5th birthday. Enjoy pictures below from the celebration!

Umar cutting chicken

Staff prepping for the party

Making matoke (mashed, steamed plantains)

Kids at the party

Party feast

Highlights from the April 2^nd, 2011 edition of the Saturday Vision

Hello all!  This is Heather, and as I was eating a PB&J sandwich and perusing yesterday’s paper, I decided to share some snippets with you. All spelling and grammar are copied exactly, but I’ve also added a few of my own comments in [].

I went to buy matooke [like plantain, a major food staple here], failed to find my way back home

Many children get lost every day while others are abandoned by their parents.  Every Saturday, we bring you stories of those seeking a re-union with their family

Rainfall expected to reduce in May

…While releasing the weather report at the media centre on Thursday, information and national guidance minister Kabakumba Masiko advised the public to harvest rain water and use it sparingly…

Pitsawyer stabbed to death

A 22-year-old man was stabbed to death by a pitsawyer on Sunday…

[can anyone tell me what a pitsawyer is?  Also, contrary to the headline, the pitsawyer was the one doing the killing, not being killed]

Reflexology clinic defies ban

Despite the Government’s ban on reflexology centres, one in Soroti continues operating, claiming it is of international standard…Minister of Health, Dr. Stephen Mallinga, said the ban followed investigations by the ministry, which revealed that many practitioners were not trained and could not treat the diseases they claimed they could.

Yumbe kids unearth bombs

The Police and the army have unearthed a cache of military hardware in Yumbe and Koboko districts…the bombs were discovered by school children and a squirrel hunter…These areas were a corridor for defunct guerilla factions, who are suspected to have buried their arsenals underground during their rebel activities.  Angucia advised parents to keep children out of scrap business to avoid tragic incidents such as that in Moyo last month, in which four children were blown up.

[a squirrel hunter?]

 14 YEARS OF [Universal Primary Education]: PLENTY OF GAINS AND PROBLEMS

…Many pupils survive on one meal a day. They do not eat anything at school the whole day, have supper at home, then leave in the morning without breakfast. “During lessons, the teacher struggles to keep the pupils awake”…Gladys Athieno…says when pupils start dozing she makes them sing…Apart from hunger, teachers now have to deal with a larger number of pupils than they handled before…Athieno would teach a class of about 20 pupils. However…the number has multiplied more than ten times.

 [200 students in one class!]

Mystery Date

Each week, two lucky people get the chance to go on a blind date. This week, Mary Nambusi, 21, went with Richard Harrison Kabeya, 30, to Choma Restaurant…To participate, send an email to____

 Richard: …After about 30 minutes, I raised my head and I saw a smashing beauty stretching out her hand to greet me.  I had no doubt she was the one…She was knowledgeable, beautiful and had a nice figure.  Her dress was nice and I found out we both like the same things such as clubbing.

Mary: …When he said he had fallen for me, I was not offended because he was handsome, caring and a gentleman…I told him I had a boyfriend but that I was not engaged. I told him he could wait and if he was patient, anything could happen.

[why the blind date when she already has a boyfriend?]

--HCD

Home: the Exterior

As promised, here are pictures of the exterior of Patrick and Heather's house on the ranch!

The Day's home

Termite hill that housed a cobra last year

The water heater

Under the internet tree

Patrick in the backyard trying to find the internet

Patrick working on the porch

Beautiful birds

Laundry room

Washing machine

Home

Here are some pictures of Patrick and Heather's new home on the ranch in Uganda! Today we're featuring the home's interior. Check back tomorrow for the exterior! Captions are below each picture.

Kitchen, looking into the bedroom

Gecko eggs in the bathroom sink

Patrick & Heather's stove

Bedroom

Dining Room

Solar power

Plants growing out of the shower faucet

Bathroom

Closet

First dinner in their new home

3 pools of light could be seen in the distance of the dirt road. Heat lightning rolled overhead lighting up the sky every few moments while fireflies danced around Heather, myself and a handful of elementary aged school children. The pools of light were getting closer and the soft chorus of a repeating praise song could be heard. The children were asking Heather all sorts of questions like “Do you have cows in America?” and “Do white people know how to dig holes?” Every evening Heather and I walked around the ranch encountering scenes like these, “AH-MAH-GEE” the children would chase and shout out after us. Amaji (Sp?) is the Lugandan word for Eggs and was one of the first words a handful of the children had taught us, but apparently the story had spread quickly and now we had gained a nickname. The pools of light now revealed themselves as three lanterns held within a line of about a dozen young men who were all singing and clapping as they walked.  The men were from the Cornerstone Leadership Academy and tonight was Thursday night which was “Fellowship Night” on the ranch.  The children all ran to greet and file in behind the young men, jumping right into the singing and clapping. Heather and I followed along, not knowing the words I just clapped in rhythm and followed behind the pools of light.

We entered a small round brick structure, something like a rotunda, with a wooden bench carved out around the edge of the wall.  The three lanterns eerily lit the room as more and more people filed in singing and dancing and clapping.  More of the CLA students arrived, a few I had already built a friendship with; Eric and Bonnie shot right over to me, greeted me with the usual under then over then under again handshake, and asked if I remembered them. When I said their names their faces broke out in huge toothy grins (count it as grace, more often than not I don’t remember names) and they told me they were so happy to see us again. Heather was occupied with school children now crowded around her, whispering to her more questions as they rose to their curious minds. As everyone settled into the room the drummers began and soon the celebration began in full force.

The singing and dancing went for a long time, broken up here and there by various forms of prayer.  Then special groups would go forward in front of everyone and sing.  When a children’s choir went up to sing, Patrick, another friend of mine from CLA (“It means Noble!”) who happened to be the shortest of the young men (I know, ironic isn’t it) went up with them. All the CLA guys HOWLED with laughter at Patrick singing with the children. Bonnie, worried I didn’t get the joke, whispered over to me that this was funny because Patrick was singing with the children because he was so short.  Randomly people would break out of the crowd and would place a coin in the hand of a performer they enjoyed.  When one little girl walked up and placed a coin in Patrick’s hand the whole room erupted in laughter again.  Later a pair of girls walked up and began singing with loud, out of tune, warbling voices. At first Heather and I just looked each other unsure of whether anyone else noticed how bad they were. The crowd was patient at first but as the song continued on and on soon people were shouting at the girls in Lugandan and laughing as a few seemingly shambled up with coins as if to say “I’m paying you to stop.” Some of the CLA men were even covering their ears, but the girls would not be denied and they finished their song to cries of joy throughout the room. Heather and I had just witnessed some of the most polite people in the world confronted with something out of a very bad American Idol audition. Yet at the end everyone was in good spirits and soon the communal singing, drumming, clapping and dancing broke out again.

That is a sliver of our new life, and it is a very different life indeed. Yet something about the ranch reminds me of my childhood, of growing up going to Patapsaco State Park with my family. Fireflies and Heat Lightning (and Cicadas) all remind me of Maryland, new experiences for Heather but ones that were just part of living on the East Coast.  Don’t get me wrong it is definitely clear we are in Africa, but the things that are sometimes most striking to me are not the differences, but the similarities, and it’s not just nature, it’s the people as well. Hakim nods his head like he’s from Baltimore, Umar likes country music, wants to know all about Cowboys and Texas (can they really just carry guns?), Ben could easily be mistaken for a manager in the states, and when Sylvia is wearing her hoodie pulled up around her head she looks more at home on a concrete alley than in the bush.

There is one different between here and home: THE BUGS!  If anything was going to send me packing and screaming all the way home it is the sheer amount of insects.  Our house is in a constant state of war once the sun goes down and the lights turn on.  I try to distract myself, but often I end up pacing the house with a can of bug spray killing anything that creeps, crawls, buzzes or flies. Heather, as we all know, was homeschooled so she likes to study and take pictures of the moths, which by the way can grow to the size of a baby bird, but I’d rather just kill them all.  Luckily we have some geckos who live in the house with us, merrily eating bugs.  You sometimes find their poop around but that is a small price to pay.  Also, I have a strict no spider killing policy; I tell the spiders so long as they don’t bother me I will let them live.  After all this is war and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I also have an intricate system of how to turn on lights based on which doors are open so that most of the bugs stay out of the bedroom. We have a mosquito net (two actually, I put one over another to cover any holes) over our bed but still you never can be too cautious. I wouldn’t say I’m so much afraid of bugs as much as I just hate them.

Heather and I have been focusing on building relationship with the staff at AHI first. Maggie explained that we should reach out to them first and then the students.  I have quickly made such good - and what I suspect will be lifelong - friends among the staff here and I hope in these weeks of blogging to introduce everyone to you. Every morning at 10:30 is the best open fire roasted tea and chapati bread you will ever taste, but even more importantly it is a small moment of rest at the beginning of everyone’s busy day and such a great time for conversation. Politics and football are the two most common topics, and everyone asks me about Obama almost like I know the guy. Agree or disagree with his politics, for those in the bush of East Africa, seeing Obama as the President of the United States is pretty inspiring.

So what are we doing out here? SO MUCH! On the Practical side Heather is teaching new recipes and I am teaching as much as I can about computers. I was so excited when I left retail to never do another inventory, so of course when I got here Maggie asked me to build a complete inventory system for the Guesthouse and Kitchen (“never say never” she told me laughing). I am working with Ben (principle of AHI) and some other local entrepreneurs to really hash out business plans and look for ways to make them profitable. Heather is working on starting a women’s bible study which seems to be an urgent need on the ranch. But possibly the biggest task Maggie has laid before us is to somehow unite Ekitangaala.  There are about 5 or 6 Christian “organizations” (I use that term loosely since they are all in some way connected with one organization Cornerstone)   here on the Ranch but they are all acting mostly independently of one another. No one has had the time to bring them all together, until now.  This is pretty overwhelming, so please be in prayer for us that God would build the relationships and community needed to make this work. The first step was the big party Heather talked about last week.  Next we will be having a small dinner with just the Principals of each group in a couple weeks.  Heather and I are doing so many different things that I’m sure I left some out but God has answered prayer and seems to be moving swiftly to really enable us to get into gear and support Maggie (who seems more excited about us each day).

Heather will be posting her favorite clips from local newspapers shortly and I assure you they are not to be missed and also the first pictures should start showing up soon. Join us next week when we tell you about what Church is like in Uganda and how to make a radio that needs 3 batteries work with only 2! We love and miss you all, please don’t cease praying we can really sense your prayers with us, God is showing again and again that He is in control.

-- PHD