Africa in Reverse: Last week in Likasi

Here's an update from last week in Likasi, Congo. One quick disclaimer: I'm delighted that we had so many folks come out to learn about discipleship. But it really isn't the most important thing in our ministry (or Jesus') to have a crowd. In fact we explicitly teach people to favor the few over the many. But honestly at the time, the "many" meant a tad too much to me and God let me know when my heart was going crooked. So... Jesus keeps humbling me. Again... and again.

148 different people have attended our seminar this week. My coworker says that’s at least triple the size of any seminar he’s ever done in Africa. One thing I can say about these folks is they LOVE the interactions in small groups. They had the chance to practice mentoring skills AND leading a small group bible study yesterday. One student said his group was opening up their personal lives to each other in a new way and it was exhilarating. I gave them the chance to share prayer requests in their groups and pray for each other. But I forgot that the Congolese pray simultaneously and that they pray loudly. So almost an hour after our small group exercise was supposed to finish all 100+ were still praying feverishly for each other. When I finally regained order, they were so high on the small group experience, they had to sing! And sing… and pray again… and sing some more. You’ll never be able to say the Congolese are dispassionate!

Mark, a Zambian missionary here told me about an interesting sport here in the Congo: witch wrestling. That’s right. Two witches or wizards will face off in a ring much like a boxing match and on national television cast spells at each other until one person is declared the most spiritually powerful and the other is defeated. There is no physical contact but apparently there are indications of physical damage being done. Whether you believe this is real or staged, it gives you an idea of just how spiritual the mainstream is here. Mark tells me that every prayer said is considered a battle (hence the furious pitch of the prayers) and the goal of many preachers is simply to motivate people towards spiritual warfare prayers rather than teach the bible. I even saw one preacher on TV launching Jesus “missiles” through prayer toward a witch-infested area.

Today, they brought us a teenage girl with a swollen leg and abdominal pains, asking us to pray for her. I gathered that they were concerned that the swollen leg was the result of magic and could result in sudden death. The family had tried charms to battle the magic and was now coming to us for prayer. Even the bible school teacher who was present took the threat of sudden death very seriously! Did I miss something? Have I landed on another planet? We prayed as confidently as we knew how and let the girl go.

In a sense, I wish I could engage with their hyper-spiritual sensitivity better. In another sense, I’m glad our teachings are solidly biblical, practical, and not over-dramatized. Even if all the stories of witches and curses and Jesus missiles are true, there seems to be a mania about the spiritual realm here that distracts people from the gospel and causes them to be “tossed to and fro” on the waves of every new teaching. But if they apply what we’re teaching from scripture and grow towards mature discipleship, they won’t have to live in fear of Satan’s power or be endlessly consumed with the minutia of spiritual battle.

Today we trained them in basic counseling skills and I taught about “How Emotional Problems Develop.” They seemed to really resonate with it, especially the parts about sexual abuse and negative messages. Then they broke into small groups for an experience designed to uncover and identify emotions (which again, got them pretty jazzed).

Tomorrow, we’re graduating our students here and then head back to Lubumbashi for another round of seminars. Please do pray for all the spiritual stuff. We haven’t had any issues but I know it can get pretty thick.

Love to you all.

Nate

Other fun facts:

-ever seen a grilled mouse-kabob? Now I have

-people here think we name our hurricanes (i.e. Katrina) after the evil spirit that lives in it

-Was that a small eel or a bullhead I ate for lunch yesterday? I can’t tell. But it was black.

-I’ve had well over 200 posed photos with people so far and we’re not even halfway done!!

Breaking Ground in the African Bush

Half an hour outside the dusty congested slums of Lubumbashi, Congo, a dented van bumped along the dirt road with us 2 muzungus (white folk) and a dozen or so students of AMC (Congo School of Missions). Behind us sat Reverend Jules Wazeng, leader of this ragtag bunch.

Wazeng started this school over a decade ago and has grown it to a 2-year missionary training center with dozens of students taking courses from Systematic Theology to History of Missions in a rented church along one of Lubumbashi’s packed dirt corridors.

When you think of Wazeng, think Mike Ditka…. Reverend Mike Ditka. Big heart. Thick skin. In fact, I’ve come to affectionately call him “coach.” Tough, passionate, always doing several things at once, he’s the guy for the job: the guy to yank the Congolese from their too-familiar ministry mold… build a church, draw a crowd, make some money… and challenge them to lay down their lives across the globe for the gospel. At the height of one of his super-charged locker-room style speeches the other day, he exhorted the students, "Once you've left here, go buy a passport! You may ask yourself, 'what should I do with my training?' Just get your passport. That's the first step.Get your passport. Because we're going to send you to the ends of the earth. So go buy yourself a passport."

Now, bumping along that dirt road, the scenery changed and bits of green began to speckle the arid landscape. Low sloping mountains canvassed the near horizon. Soon we were gliding past shrubby savannah with tall, spindly trees offering shade. The stress of constant honking, crowding, haggling, shouting began to melt away for the first time here in the Congo .

At a little outpost of tin-roofed homes, each student grabbed an earthy red brick from the floor of the van and began walking single-file in the woods. Passing 30-foot tall anthills, we came at last to a shady grove where two men measured out a plot roughly the size of a football field. I guess you can get one of those out here for about $3,000.

This shady spot is the future home of AMC. As “Coach” showed us around, he talked about dorms, classrooms, and guesthouses. “If you come back in 2015, God willing, you’ll just be sleeping right here,” he said indicating a patch of ground. “What, Coach!  You mean out here under the stars?” I smiled. “Not too hospitable!”

There was a sort of buzz in the air while Coach began spelling out the vision and leading the circle in a Conglese-style (everybody talking at once) prayer. Then the students began singing worship songs (I recognized the Swahili version of “How Great Thou Art” which involves a lot more clapping than our version). While they sang, Dave and I were invited to lay the first bricks of a 3-foot brick and mortar monument to dedicate the land. A layer of concrete was spread across the top and an inscription was made: “Mark, Dave, and Nate: 8-23-12).

It’s exciting to be part of the beginning of something. To think, that in a few years, buildings will spring up. And if I am so fortunate, I may have the chance teach disciple-building on this very plot, and train Congolese Christians who are not just reaching Congo, but travelling worldwide with a passion for God’s Kingdom…

I wish you could have been there with me.

In other news, we’re through with our seminars and got great feedback from our week 2 participants. We’re heading home Monday!! But it looks like I may have a stopover in Atlanta for a couple days to close on our very first house! Debra says we’re 80% sure on a closing date of the 28^th. Then home to my kiddos (one of which is climbing stairs and cutting and the other of which can now write the letters “O”, “A”, “X”, and “H”) and my beautiful amazing wife who is doing a fabulous job being a solo mama AND processing stuff for the house. Yep. I married up.

Love from Africa!

After 24 hours in transit (it was a little sketchy at first when they said in Atlanta that my ticket to Africa was "revoked"... but we worked it out), I landed in Lubumbashi, Congo all alone with negligent French skills, no phone, and completely vulnerable. Thankfully, I wasn't hauled off to prison or taken for a bribe. All my stuff got through safe an sound. And when I walked out of the airport an hour later, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a voice, "Are you Nathan?" I turned around to meet Eric, a distant cousin of my Congolese/Minnesotan friend Cora who had been trying to arrange an airport pickup. What a relief! I went with Eric to his beautiful home for dinner with his family. He has two young daughters and I was struck by his affection and involvement with them. I don't often see African dads who are so involved. I gave each of the girls a toy from my daughter and the older one seemed to warm to me in spite of my striking white skin.

I slept like a rock in a big queen bed under a mosquito net and shared breakfast with my new friend the next morning. We had an impassioned conversation about the need for biblical discipleship in the church in Africa and I encouraged him to be part of the solution. His unique style of fathering his children makes him a natural disciple-builder and I told him I was jealous for his involvement in that kind of ministry. He told me he would come to our seminar on disciple-making next week.

He put me on a taxi yesterday bound for the border. There, I made it through Zambian customs and was relieved when everything went from French to English. I got another taxi to Chililawombwe where I caught a minibus (packed to the gills) to Kitwe. When I crossed the border, my Congolese sim card stopped working and my friend in Kitwe began worrying and calling every prayer warrior in his family from London to Virginia to Lusaka to pray for my safe arrival.

FINALLY, last night after dark I found myself at a bus station wandering among drunk Zambians in the several bars that were still open looking for a way to call my friend, Nathan. Finally, I purchased a new Zambian sim card and got a hold of him. After a short taxi ride, I was comfortably situated in Nathan's house having chicken and rice with his sister, niece, and cousin (who all share the house with him). Two years ago, I came to this house for dinner and was absolutely struck by how comfortable and at-home I felt here with this family. And I immediately remembered why. For starters, they let me in their kitchen (something very few Africans feel comfortable enough to allow). They even let me help set the table! :)

There was friendly banter all evening as well as more serious conversations about the Lord. I felt myself relaxing in their familiar style of hospitality.

That night, Nathan and I sat up late in our shared queen bed and read together from Colossians. I asked him which parts of the passage were most striking to him and which parts he felt a desire to grow in. He shared with striking transparency about his struggles and where he was growing. He seemed taken aback by my genuine interest in his struggles but stepped up to the plate an became very transparent. I've noticed a strong sense of privacy among African friends. There are many parts of their lives that are simply not talked about. So when I come to Africa, I always feel this compulsion to straighten my tie, put on my best Christian face, and interact in a very formal way. But today, I'm thinking that perhaps the best thing I can do is be genuine and transparent, even if that challenges their sense privacy. Because I think there is a hunger here for that kind of transparency to be safe and accepted, especially among younger Africans. I think if I am "prophetically" myself, I'll find myself in the company of genuine young believers like Nathan who know that the face of perfection put forth by many spiritual leaders in Africa is an unattainable facade, but that the Jesus life can and should touch the most intimate parts of our lives and make us more genuine, teaching us not to "lie to each other," as Paul says in Colossians 3.

Well, Nathan and I are off to visit other old friends. At some point, he wants me to come preach with him in the market, as he's been in the habit of doing! What else could I say to that but yes! Then on Saturday, I'll be back in Lubumbashi for the seminars. Did I mention I'm scheduled to preach at a church on Sunday? Talk about outside my comfort zone!! But I also love it, because I can feel God beginning to grow me through it all.

I'm happy here, but I'm already desperately lonely for my family! Please keep praying for me and all the ministry opportunities to come! Love from Africa!

Nate

Excuse me. Can I have the shirt off your back?

I’m going to Lubumbashi, Congo in less than 3 weeks!! I’m going a couple days early to hang out before co-worker Dave Johnson comes and we teach our seminars. So I was feeling a bit nervous about arriving alone in an African airport. But it just so happens (heehee) that my friend Cora who lives here in Minneapolis is from Lubumbashi! Guess who is going to arrange a ride from the airport for me AND a place to stay with her English-speaking brother? I think God loves me. :)

So last night we were at our friend Shana’s house and Cora came over. We were talking about gifts in the African context and Cora told me an interesting story:

She and Shana were at the house of a new Somali friend. They were having a wonderful conversation when Cora complimented the Somali woman’s outfit. The woman lit up and said, “oh good! Would you like it?” Without missing a beat, Cora responded, “Yes! I want that!” The woman smiled and went to change clothes, bringing the outfit back nicely wrapped for Cora, who joyfully received the gift. “I just bought it yesterday,” said the woman. “So it should be clean.” Shana, not believing what believing what her American eyes were seeing, joked with the woman, “Well what about me? I want one too! I like the one you’re wearing now!” “Oh good!” cried the Somali woman and went to change outfits once again.

I’ve come to suspect that most Africans would give you the shirt off their back… and that they might ask for yours too! But somewhere inside, I believed (here’s my racist confession of the day) that they were just being nice to me to win favor with an American. “Not at all,” exclaims my Malawian friend Harvey. “They’re like that with each other too. It’s our culture.

It got me thinking. We American’s stink at giving or receiving anything! We’re out of practice. I mean when we were poorer, we really needed each other. We’d have barn raisings, harvest parties, and more shared possessions. We expected to help each other out and we expected to need the help of others. It was precisely tit for tat, but it was a social safety net that helped everybody survive and thrive. Now we have insurance for everything. No need to call a friend when you can call AAA. No need to ask for help on your house when you have the money to hire a pro. Sometimes we’ll go halfway across the country to see friends or family and stay in a hotel! We’ve done away with full service gas stations and manned checkout lines. Now they make us uncomfortable.

We’ve built (even in the last 20 years) a self-serve society that empowers independence but emaciates our social safety net. So when someone offers something I want or need (whether it’s a hundred bucks or a place to stay or an hour of their time) here’s what goes through my mind: Oh no. If I accept that you’ll resent me or want something in return. I’ll find a way to do it on my own. Well, okay but maybe I can help you pay for that. No? Well I’ll keep track and make sure I return the favor. Are you sure this is okay? Are you SURE?!

Gratitude is cheap for us. We don’t believe that a smile and a “thank you” is enough reward for the giver. We don’t trust that the giver just wants to bring us joy and that our gift to that person is simple, dignified appreciation. When I let someone give me something I want, I’m saying, “I see and accept that you care for me. I trust you not to hold this over my head.” When I ask for something I need, I’m saying, “I think so highly of you and I’ve come to believe that if you can help me, you will. I know that you care for me. Please help.” There is no groveling or apologizing or second-guessing or endearing myself to you.

If you think about it, our attitude toward others easily influences our attitude toward God. If we can’t accept simple gifts from others, how will we accept God’s big gifts? The attitude toward His grace can easily be, “There’s gotta be some way to get God’s favor on my own. Surely, my good works mean something!” We have to understand that we can never pay God back for his kindness and forgiveness. He asks for nothing in return. Nothing at all.

But still, we sense that accepting a free gift as truly free will change our lives and we don’t like the idea of surrendering our hearts or our lifestyles. Accepting grace is like enslaving ourselves to freedom. When we stop viewing love as a quid pro quo affair, our whole attitude changes. We begin a life of no-strings-attached generosity and shameless receiving. If we want a self-serve life, we’ll never really embrace God because everything in Him grates against our Lone Ranger self-reliance.

Somewhere behind the walls of my American attitudes, I think I have an African heart. In college I began to dream that all my relationships could have an easy give and take. I can come to your house and ask simply for a stick of butter, an hour of your time, some help with my kids or my house. And of course, you can do the same with me. Let me come help with your dishes. We’ll talk while we work and enjoy each other. Come mow my lawn. I’m behind this week. Come for dinner. I have plenty of food and I want to make you happy!

For me, there’s a sense of safety in expecting that I will lay down my agenda, my time, and my possessions for others AND (not “because”) they will do the same for me. Maybe its less efficient at times. But it’s joyful to me.

But somewhere along the way, I heard this was all pie in the sky. That it would be healthy to adjust my expectations. I’ve learned it’s normal to schedule with people weeks in advance. It’s impolite to knock on their doors without calling ahead. It’s inappropriate to ask for favors. It’s strange to offer certain kinds of help. Most relationships are uncertain and require a certain level of guarded formality. So when my friend Cora needs help with her stalled car in the parking lot, she’s disappointed when the grocery store guy looks confused and asks if she has AAA instead of offering to help.

In the last 5 years I've learned to stop giving AND receiving. I stopped asking for things because people seemed indifferent or even offended that I asked. The worst feeling is when someone grudgingly gives you what you ask for and then never speaks to you again! 

Ultimately, I’ll have to learn to operate and thrive in both contexts. But I think in my heart, I want the African way, or at least some sort of hybrid. I want to get better at giving, asking, and receiving. (As a support-raised missionary, it’s a require job skill!) And you'd better believe that when I go to Lubumbashi in 3 weeks, I'll go bearing gifts!