Preaching with the Bishop

As most of you know, I was ordained a priest by Bishop George Katwesigye of the Diocese of Kigezi  on behalf of my sending bishop, Archbishop Robert Duncan (bishop of the Anglican Diocese of Pittsburgh, and archbishop of ACNA). Occasionally, Bishop Katwesigye invites me to travel with him and preach when he visits a parish for confirmation.  (For my non-Anglican friends, "Confirmation," according to our catechism, "is the rite in which we express a mature commitment to Christ, and receive strength from the Holy Spirit through prayer and the laying on of hands by a bishop."  It is at this point a person is fully received into the church.)

I love these visits.  These are the times that I get to go "deep into the village" and encounter Ugandan life missed by most tourists, and even by those of us whose ministry keeps us focused in town. I also enjoy the closer interaction with the Bishop and some of his staff.

In the photos that follow, I would like to bring you along on one visit that I enjoyed toward the end of last year.

When the Bishop arrives, we always stop several hundred yards
from the church. Drums play in the distance, banners hang, and
a Boys' Brigade strikes up the band with off-key brilliance.

After we are greeted by the leaders of the church and community,
we process between rows of people clapping and singing and waving.
The Bishop smiles and nods and greets and chats as we slowly make
our way to the parish priest's home.

The two choppy video clips below capture some of this joyful reception.
Be sure you notice the beauty of both the people and the countryside.
In the second clip, watch for the drummers in the background. These drums
will be at every church, either suspended from trees or set up on poles.

Upon arriving at the house of the parish priest, the wife
of the priest or one of his children will pour water
over our hands so we can wash in preparation for breakfast.
Breakfast will be tea, bread, chicken, bananas, g-nuts
(peanuts), and other food. They eat a lot at this breakfast,
knowing the service could be very long and lunch far away.
The congregation waits outside, and you can hear the singing
and drumming continue.

After breakfast and thanking the host, we go into a room and
"vest" -- put on our clerical robes.  Outside the house we pray,
then proceed as group to the church.

On most confirmation Sundays, the church is overflowing with
people. Today, well over 700 people are in attendance; many
of them are sitting outside.  They have come from miles around,
some having begun to walk early in the morning so that they can
be here on time. 

The building itself is simple; the streamers you see in this photo are
the only decorations to add a festive air to the occasion. Their joy,
singing, and dancing will provide the rest.

I haven't had the opportunity to get to know other bishops here,
but I do see how Bishop Katwesigye genuinely loves his people,
and is loved by them. His authority is clear and undisputed, yet
his people are at ease with him, and humor and warmth are part
of his interaction, even at formal occasions.

What was unique on this particular occasion, and very touching for
me, is that this time the Bishop introduced me as his "son."

On this Sunday, the Bishop confirmed over 500 people.  That's
right, he laid hands on over 500 people, praying for each one.
They were young and old, men and women, new converts and
long baptized Christians.

Do you see the guy in the middle with his arms raised? He's
dancing.  The Bakiga have a very vigorous dance that includes
stomping and jumping very, very high.  Usually the air is filled
with the dust raised by stomping, dancing, and jumping. I now
know what people mean when they say, "The joy was palpable!"
After confirmations, the joy was palpable in that place. Maybe
you can sense it in the next clip.

And, yes, somewhere in the midst of all this, a muzungu preaches.
Before me here is my Bible, a Book of Common Prayer in Rukiga,
and the order of the service.  It has taken a while for me to
"find my voice" in this culture, preaching in an altered accent and
pace so that I am understood, and collaborating with an interpreter.
(The interpreter for today was a former student of mine, which made
the experience easier and more fun.)

I have come to a place of excitement when I preach. The Lord has
been so faithful consistently to give me a clear word to speak to the
people, a message coming from Scripture through time and culture,
that now I look forward to what he is going to say and do this time.

One of my favorite roles as a priest is serving
the bread and wine to the people. I love seeing and
serving the body of Christ this way (double-entendre intended).
Faces and eyes that are joyful, weary, amused, confused, blank,
worn, hopeful...  All of them come, and all open their hands to
receive the grace we all need and find in Jesus.

This time, rather than serving from the altar rail, my interpreter and I
went down among the people to one of the doors, serving the people who
who were standing outside. Both amuse and saddened, I watched as people
shoved and elbowed their way past others so they could be served by
the muzungu priest.

In the next video clip, you get to hear some women singing a song
they composed just for this day.  At the end of the service, different
groups of people, adults and children, sing songs, dance, and recite
Scripture and poetry as gifts to the Bishop.

The people also bring monetary gifts in envelopes to give to others
who participate in the service. It's humbling, but I am one of the
recipients -- the widow's mite put into the hands of the muzungu
to say 'thank you.'  This time, however, the envelopes were not
addressed to "Muzungu Rev.", but to "The Bishop's Son."

Five (yes, five!) hours later we recess out of the church and back
down to the house of the priest.  No, it's not over yet.  Time for
lunch!  Immense amount of food, followed by sodas, followed by
obushera, a local drink made from fermented sorghum.  I try to
refuse the latter, but the Bishop always insists I drink it, both to
honor the culture and because it helps with digestion. I comply,
but have learned that I can mix it with Stoney (a soda a bit like
ginger ale) to make it more palatable.

After the meal, there are a series of brief speeches appreciating both
the guests and the host.  We then wash our hands again, and give our final
farewells.  The drums start up, and we process out to the Bishops car,
and begin the journey home.

Razor Blades, Soap, and Cultural Differences

I thought I would begin the end of our blogging hiatus with a recent example of handling issues in a cross-cultural setting.

Before we left the United States, one of the BEST things we did was attend three weeks of cross-cultural training at MTI in Colorado.  We have many verses in our song of praise of MTI, and I won't sing them all here, but I will hum a few bars with regard to how they taught us to handle differences.  Here's a poster from one part of our training:

 
It says, "Remember:  We judge and interpret the behavior of others from our own frame of reference from what we think of as normal, natural, right, or good."  In other words, if you encounter something in your new culture that you think is abnormal, unnatural, wrong, or bad, you probably need to think again.

Here's an example fresh from this week.  Our oldest three kids (Jesse, Georgia, and Lucy) go to one of the local schools not far from the bottom of our hill.  Daily they encounter a stream of cultural differences as they are educated in a very different culture with often very different ideas of what is "good" education -- curriculum, discipline, recess, lunch fare, hygiene, even how to sharpen pencils.  Especially how to sharpen pencils.

So around the dinner table one night as we share our "highs and lows" of the day, Georgia casually mentions how one of her friends got cut by a razor blade while sharpening her pencil.  Umm...what was that?!  As the story unfolds, we learn that each table of kids is given one or two single-sided razor blades (they call them "surgical blades") to share throughout the term so they can sharpen their pencils.  Can you imagine how thrilled we were to hear that?  Our initial reaction:

• That's not normal!  That's not even smart!  That's so unsafe it's stupid!
• In fact, that's not even natural.  Here they spend so much time teaching the kids about safety, and they're handing out razor blades?
• That's just plain wrong.  What are they thinking?
• What a bad idea...what bad teachers!

We had a similar reaction when we heard that school doesn't provide soap for washing up after going for a "short call" or a "long call" (i.e. going to the latrine to...well, you figure it out).  That's stupid and unnatural, especially for an educational culture that puts so much emphasis on cleanliness (kids are disciplined for having fingernails dirty or too long, and their teeth are even checked each day).  And that's wrong and bad!  Think of all the hygienic complications!

Oh wait.  This is where we're supposed to stop and think again.  And we should do that before we go roaring off to the headmistress...again?  What was it we learned at MTI?

#1 says, "Expect difference as the starting point."  Ah, yes.  We cannot assume that we know what is going on here.  Not only are we hearing about it from a kid's perspective, but it's in a different culture!  It IS going to be different.  Let's begin with that acceptance.

#3 says, "Don't assume you understand familiar behaviors."  Oh.  We can't assume that we understand what is going on here with the regard to blades and soap.  We have our own theories (The blades are cheaper than sharpeners?  They only give lip-service to hygiene?), but...well, heck, they're not even theories, they're hypotheses.

#7 says, "Most people do behave rationally or legitimately."  Right.  They aren't crazy.  Especially at this school.  The headmistress consistently has demonstrated herself to be thoughtful, caring, and rational.

The other statements on this poster apply as well, but reoriented by even these reminders, the moms (Leslie and Wendy) drive down to meet with the headmistress to discuss these issues.  And, guess what?  There were rational, understandable reasons for what our kids were encountering!

Pencils in Uganda are of notoriously poor quality, and the quality has lessened even in the past year.  No pencil sharpener will sharpen them; the lead breaks every time.  For a while the school was being supplied with double-sided razor blades for teachers and kids to sharpen the pencils.  The headmistress made the wise decision to purchase single-sided blades instead so that pencils could be sharpened with greater safety.  She is already budgeting for next year to import pencils so that sharpeners can be used instead.

What about the soap?  Well, the school has been providing soap, but many of the kids in the school, particularly the younger ones, just aren't familiar with soap.  When they find it, they play with it!  They create puddles of suds, or throw it around, or toss it into the bushes.  Very few were actually using it, many were actually losing it.

Now, of course, we still have concerns about both of these issues.  We have to choose how to adapt in a way that cares for our kids (e.g. teach them how to use a one-sided razor blade properly, or instruct them to have a friend do it for them; send them to school with hand-sanitizer).  But we've shifted from labeling the situation (and the people involved) as abnormal, unnatural, stupid, wrong, and bad.  The situation actually makes sense -- when we stop judging from our own frame of reference and enter into the lives of the people we're called to love. 

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Now, just because it's been a while since we've blogged, here are a few photos for the fun of it:

Travis with the students he has been teaching since January 2011.

Jeremiah, son of one of our workers, cooling off during the hot dry season.

Julia Rose as THE cutest Cinderella servant girl (costume made by Grandma).

 

 

Micah and Jesse -- need I say more?

Gracious, our regular Saturday visitor, receiving a Christmas surprise of items he needs for boarding school.

Mallory, Wendy, Lucy, and Leslie during Advent 2011.

Georgia, Lucy, & Julia during our Christmas vacation.