Odwira: yams, ancestors, and Jesus

Today I was at the Akrofi-Christaller institute in Ghana, one of Africa’s most prestigious theological schools. In terms of vigorous theological thinking and training from an authentically African perspective, Akrofi is the place. My friend, Ash came here from America for both the prestigious academic environment as well as the chance to get inside a uniquely African understanding of Christianity, hoping it would enhance his work in Ghana with Young Leaders International.



In NGO terms, Ash’s work is leadership development. Christians call it discipleship. Ash calls it “just loving on young leaders.” He goes deep with a few and I admire that approach. So I came to Ghana, among other reasons, to see what “deep with a few” looks like in an African context and to apply that to my own work with WDA. Added bonus? Sitting with some of the brightest African minds both at Akrofi and Ghana 2013.



Today, I went with a student group from Akrofi to observe the festivities surrounding a traditional Ghanaian religious holiday: Odwira. It’s a tradition purification ritual involving reconciliation within the community, invoking the ancestors, and renewing one’s covenant relationship with the divine. Odwira involves some eerie things considered demonic by many Christians. It also involves some profoundly redemptive themes: atonement, covenant, unity within community and with the divine, and how to mediate a right relationship with the supreme God, Nyankopen.



But today, it mostly involved yams and wrestling! For the last 6 weeks, yams (the traditional mainstay) have been officially banned here in Akropong while the ancestors sleep in preparation for Odwira. Long story. But when the yam is ceremonially reintroduced (coinciding with the ripening of the new yam crop), the young men battle it out over 6 new yams like a giant game of kill-the-guy-with-the-ball. I wasn’t expecting it to get quite so physical!



Returning back to the institute, I listened to an African researcher and professor—an expert on Odwira—give a 3-hour explanation of the complex tradition that left my head spinning. I oscillated between fascination and despair as I realized how little I actually understand about traditional African culture and religion. Maybe its because I’ve never spent time with traditionalists in Africa. Maybe part of me just doesn’t care enough, considering how little time I have to absorb language and culture in each new area I visit.



But today, I appreciated the depth and intellectual integrity of Dr. Afriyie as she patiently described to a room full of Christian theology students the significance of the Odwira festival without immediately jumping to missiological conclusions (though they were there in abundance). She patiently described her research process surrounding the festival and the intrinsic value of understanding the tradition. Many of us, myself included might assume that this is a “pagan” ritual, and therefore not worth understanding deeply. But I saw a greater thoughtfulness today and I liked it. Because in addition to validating some of the deeper cultural values behind Odwira, I also saw opportunities for a deeper gospel enculturation as the Ghanaian Jesus incarnates himself into the legends and lore of the Akan people: as purifier, ancestor, mediator, and friend.

Rich American, Vacuuous Need, and the Enough-Maker

“Bring them here to me.” Simple words of a sure faith. Jesus said that just before using 5 loaves of bread to feed 5,000. “Bring what you have and I’ll make up the difference.”

“Lord, we only have....” said the disciples. I say that a lot too. Lord, I only have this much money, time, energy, love, whatever. And He says, “bring them here to me.”

I’m going to Africa tomorrow and I’m excited! What started as a little laid-back scouting trip to visit a friend and scope out his approach to discipleship in Africa has turned into an epic 10-day bonanza including...

1. A 700-person global missions summit on discipleship and unreached people groups at which I am now a delegate

2. Non-stop travel throughout the country

3. Meetings, interviews, and lots of really interesting people on the cutting edge of ministry

And I found out yesterday that one of my closest (and smartest) African friends will be coming from the UK to be at the conference!  I’m amazed at how God has arranged the pieces to get me into proximity with some of the brightest minds in my field. This one could be a game-changer. I won’t get all health-wealthish on you. But I think it’s really neat when God takes our little and makes it a lot.

When I go to Africa, it’s a bit like a game of chicken. Middleclass American, meet vacuous need. Who’s going to back down first? I’ve given up on letting need direct me. I don’t think that healthy or terribly helpful. But as I’ve gotten to know Jesus better, I find myself in more positions to be generous and it’s far less threatening than it used to be.

I used to travel and allegorically hold my wallet tight against my chest the whole time. Terrified of being taken advantage of. Terrified of finding my five little loaves stripped from me. But I’ve relaxed a bit as I’ve gotten to know God’s heart and provision. I can listen for his little prompts (which sound a whole lot sweeter than sales pitches and impoverished pleas) and bring my little inadequate resources (time, energy, resources, love) to the Father, trusting that God’s presence is the uber enough-maker. I actually learned that from my African friends.

I’m praying a little more these days. And it seems like the more I bring my “stuff” to Jesus, the less I worry about it running out.

Rattling Bones and the Logs of Judgement

(Here's a new song. It's the soundtrack for this post...)

Can I just be real with you for a sec? I’m a real judger. Sometimes I think the most awful, condemning thoughts about people. Critical words and labels for people come to mind that I should never repeat out loud. They’re the kind of words that go in like a barb and stick for years. True enough to wound. Not True enough to heal. I hate those words. They feel demonic. But I don’t know how to unthink them, how to unlearn them.

http://cccooperagency.wordpress.com/page/52/

My family and best friends bear the brunt of my judgment and I hate that most of all. On mornings like this, it casts a pall over the house. And my lips are zipped tight to protect everyone from myself.

Groggy and depressed, I breathe a sincere prayer for help. Then I open my bible at random. *Plop* Matthew 7:1 - “Do not judge or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

Thanks a lot God. So it’s, “just knock it off” then, right? Ha. Ha... Ha.

I’m on the record saying “acceptance is the most powerful healing force in the universe.” So why is it so hard for me to live it (and give it) in my inner circles? Expectations, choices, pride, and conditioning I suppose.

I’m not sure I totally like what my accepting self would look like. I fear losing my “standards” and ideals. I fear becoming muted, domesticated, wimpy, and resigned. If you’re a judger you know what I mean. If not, you might hate my guts right now.

But I’m not happy as a judger.

One, because it stymies my own spiritual growth. Jesus says I should take the plank out of my own eye before worrying about the speck in my brother’s eye. But I don’t think he means that I’m truly a worse person than my brother. Maybe my brother’s speck is a plank to him and it’s just a matter of perspective. I think it’s also a matter of responsibility. My responsibility to discern and call out the issues in other people is real. But it’s speck-like in comparison to my responsibility to deal with my own junk. And when I DO call people out, it should always be with the intention of being helpful, not just making myself feel better. I should always have the humility—no matter how vindicated I feel—to be speckish in dealing with other people’s issues and plankish in dealing with my own.

And two, because it kills my relationships. It just wreaks havoc on the people I love. I can’t tell you how it works. But somehow, when I express empathetic acceptance, my relationships breathe, flourish and often, people grow. When I express judgment, they grit their teeth, dig a foxhole, and surround it with landmines. Then I hide behind a big rock and shout, “I’m just trying to help you!!”

I’m not sure how to apply this in my day-to-day. I’m sure it has something to do with accepting myself and allowing God to accept me. I’m sure it has something to do with owning my identity as the beloved child of a heavenly Father. That’s the beauty of the Jesus Way: it puts us in a uniquely intimate relationship with God in which we find real familial love and acceptance. But I’d be lying to you if I said I was good at tapping into that love and acceptance on a daily basis.

Maybe if you’re a judger like me, you’ll know just how to fix me. But I’m a bit stymied. Worthless stymied people! So I’ll take my own “medicine” and realize once again just how gross the stuff is.

There’s a little shimmer of hope though; a new vision God gave me last week that I haven’t grown into yet. It’s Ezekiel 37: the dry bones that God raises. The vision is this: I’m not a warm body fighting decay. I’m a helpless pile of bones rattling to life. If I can own that vision, then I’ll be okay with failure, because bones aren’t good for much anyway.

But I’ll also be able to trust God’s power and the slow resurrection in my life. I’ll be able to believe that God is in fact, making me a MORE vibrant, alive, and caring person as I age (not less)... that he doesn’t expect perfection, but that he is slowly performing eye surgery to remove the big logs of judgment from my vision.

I think I DO trust that vision. I’m just feeling pretty boney today.

97 and Living Like Crazy

At 97, great great aunt Charlotte is one of the sharpest and most vibrantly alive human beings I know. Her friend Stevie (who has lived with Charlotte and been adopted into ourfamily for 60 years now) is the same way, but with an extra spark and humor. We arranged by email (yes email) to meet up this week for breakfast. They ambushed me with questions about my family, my life, and my ministry. They were keenly interested in the latest developments and reminded me that they pray often for us, along with all the rest of Char’s family AND Stevie’s, “76 nieces, nephews,grands, and great-grands.”

I finally got a question of my own in and then sat listening to these two young-at-heart women tell me hilarious and heartfelt stories from the last nearly 100 years about how they met, the bible studies they’ve led together, and the times they’ve gotten pulled over for speeding while singing hymns at the top of their lungs. At present, they STILL lead bible studies with 20-somethings AND 90-somethings! They’re also passionately trying to convert their entire apartment complex to their unique brand of lively, surrendered Christianity.

Their secret? They talked about an upbringing under a wise and loving pastor in a church that was passionate about the bible and an intimate daily “walk” with Jesus. “We used to sing hymns like, ‘He walks with me, and He talks with me, and tells me I am his own,’” aunt Char related. The emphasis on intimacy with God was very strong. They also cited a lifelong reading of the bible. Stevie interjected, “I’m absolutely convinced that the only lasting change for good in peoples’ lives comes through God’s Word.”

Everything in me loves who they are. And I love what they teach me about aging.

Arecent Barna study has been rattling around in my brain for weeks now. The study examined “christlikeness” in a representative sample of AmericanChristians. Studying the records of Jesus’ life, they deduced 5 attitudes and 5 behaviors that seemed to characterize Jesus alongside 5 attitudes and 5 behaviors that characterized the Pharisees. They asked people to respond to questions with a 1-4 rating and used the results to determine how many Christiansin fact emulate the attitudes and action of Jesus more than the self-righteous attitudes and actions of the Pharisees.

The result? Right around 14% of Christians across the board could be called “Christ-like”. It was 23% among evangelicals. Ouch.

One of the groups that fared worst was people over the ageof 67 (only 6% were Christ-like). I’ve suspected for a long time that age alone does not produce maturity. In many cases, it seems to harden and embitter rather than soften and improve. I’ve faced that fact with trepidation as I think about my next 10, 20, 70 years. Why does older NOT seem to equate to wiser or better? Will I be a nastier human being at 70 than I was at 20?

Yet there sitting across from me was living proof that lifelong growth and maturing is possible. As I shared my hopes and fears about aging with these beautiful ladies, they were reflective. “I wonder,” mused Stevie, “if people’s focus simply turns inward as they experience more and more loss and physical illness.” But with conviction, she related a lesson from the book of James about rejoicing in the midst of suffering and how God had taught her that lesson over and over again in her life.

It’s hard to be cynical when sitting with such women. As an Evangelical, I’m deeply suspicious of evangelicalism as a cultural institution. But in their story, I heard an evangelical faith deeply rooted deeply in a personal, authentic relationship with Jesus. I could only applaud that.

I also heard the legacy of a faith that is in fact very old. I thought of my own spiritual journey, how my wild and weird encounters with God feel raw and fresh and deep in the context of my personal experience. And I wondered how many people over thousands of years have in fact felt the same intimate relationship to a loving God in pursuit of His creation. How many people across history and cultures have not only believed the story of Jesus, but also sensed that the hero of their faith was alive and present in their daily lives? I’m heartened by the awareness that though I often feel on some wild frontier of faith and relationship with Him, I am in fact in very goodcompany.