Finding a Rhythm of Rest and Riding a Rough Bus

Almost paradise

Sometimes I just have to make a small comment about the peculiarity of things I see here, that I don’t see in the US. And this is something that happened often in Burundi. Long story short, I was at a pool in a nice hotel this week (that story coming later). It was quite clean and looked well-maintained except the last 7 feet in the shallow end. The bottom there was pretty dirty and had a lot of dead leaves and debris in it. It seemed like no one vacuumed there. The next morning I saw them vacuuming and noticed that the hose on the vacuum only reached about 5/6 of the way across the pool. So the pool man vacuumed to a certain point and then stopped. I was baffled that no one had thought of replacing the hose, which was a pretty standard pool vacuum hose that is certainly available here or in Dar or Nairobi. But I see this all the time in odd ways. It reminds me of myself in my apartment in college, where I just learned to make-do with whatever condition things were in, even as they deteriorated over time. I don’t know why the management would not replace a cheap hose in an upscale hotel. I used to feel an inclination to ‘right’ the wrong by bringing this to the attention of someone, but I no longer have any compunction. I am learning to make-do with what there is, and not ask questions.

Ilboru grounds

I am currently not in Arusha with the family. I am once again in the lake region about 2 hours north of the town of Musoma in a place called Tarime. It is almost at the Kenyan border. I am here to observe a training MCC is supporting to teach medical officers about how better care for people with albinism by recognizing suspicious skin lesions and refer for patients for treatment.

I have probably said this before, but albino people -- there are several hundred thousand in Tanzania alone -- face stigma and violence. To top if off, until recently, only about 20% survived beyond the age of 30 because they succumbed to untreated skin cancer (basal and squamous cell carcinoma). In recent years, a number of groups have been working to provide families and communities training on how to care for children with albinism. But in a society where everyone is exposed to sun much of the time, it is definitely a cultural challenge, and many cannot even afford luxuries like sun-screen. Our intervention is meant to help strengthen the health care system as even doctors here have not necessarily been trained to adequatelty counsel, treat, or refer, people with albinism.

The most exciting thing that has happened thus far is the bus trip to get here. I had written in a previous blog about the difficultly of getting from Arusha to Musoma. The most common way to go involves a taxi, followed by a shuttle, followed by a flight to a town called Mwanza, followed by a taxi, then a long bus ride to Musoma, and another taxi. I decided to try the more ‘simple’ route of going by bus directly. This involves going through 2 game parks (Ngorongoro and Serengeti) for which I must pay as a foreigner, $100 each way. It also requires getting permits to cross at park offices in Arusha before departing. (otherwise you get left at the park gate to find your way back to Arusha)

The bus left at 6 am on Friday morning so I had to get up around 4. The bus itself looked promising in that it was huge and we sat very high inside. But the seats themselves, 5 across were very narrow and I could not even sit back with the person next to me because our shoulders overlapped. Every seat was taken but no one was standing for the 13 hour trip. I made sure not to drink coffee before departing because there is no bathroom in the bus and few stops except at the park gates.

The trip was about as rough and bad as I could have possibly imagine, mainly because we drove on washboard gravel roads through both parks. What I was not expecting was that when we exited Serengeti park, we did not get on a main road, but instead took a kind of local route through dozens of villages in the Serengeti region on roads that I would have taken for footpaths. It was almost comical to think of a bus-sized vehicle cruising down these little roads (a bit like the ‘night bus’ of Harry Potter fame). But the jarring pain of completely worn out shock absorbers on huge bumps kept me from laughing. When we arrived at 7pm I felt like I had been bludgeoned for hours with a club. One small consolation was that, despite driving at breakneck speed through the Serengeti, I saw a lot of animals, including 1000s of wildebeests, zebra, giraffe, a hippo, wild boar, and a hyena that we almost hit. (I do not recommend this at all as a cheap way to see the Serengeti!)

Sister Martha getting a snack on the road

I was traveling on the bus with a woman named Sister Martha, an albino woman who is a champion of albino rights here in Tanzania. She was also going to the training as a facilitator. She seemed to have weathered the trip better than me, perhaps because she has had to make it many more times than I have. 

We were put up in a hotel in Musoma called the Mara Paradise Hotel. It is a fantastic study in dilapidated grandeur. (Our Country Rep. calls it “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”) Absolutely nothing in my room worked except the lights. BUT upon arrival they provided with glasses of ice cold freshly made avocado juice and tamarind juice. That alone made up for all of its faults.

The following morning we proceeded with Specioza, the project manager for this program (run by the Tanzanian Mennonite Church) to the town of Tarime--by Landrover this time, which felt like a luxury cruiser. We met the 2 dermatologists who were the primary teachers, and settled into our hotel here. Everything works here, but it lacks the charm of the Mara Paradise.

Kids arriving back at school after their trips

That brings me up to the present moment, but events earlier in the week that led up to my departure are worth recounting as well: The past week was an adventure for the kids and a small respite for us (from parenting). St. Constantine school had its annual activities week and both boys went off to a camping trip, Oren to the Usambara mountains and David to Lake Manyara. Oren’s trip was somewhat more demanding beginning with the fact that it was 5 overnights long, during which they were camping in tents by night and doing various service projects and hiking by day. This included a trek through a village to see life there and a day spent at a school for the blind. Getting Oren to the bus at 6am last Sunday was no mean feat and he would happily tell you that he was not in the least bit enthusiastic about going. David left several days later, on a Wednesday morning to go to his camp at Lake Manyara, a safari park.

Erosion on the road near our compound

Because both children were gone until Friday afternoon, Rebecca and I requested 2 days off for a small retreat as a couple. It was quite strange to not have to think about the kids and what they would eat or do every 15 minutes. We took time to reflect on what our priorities would be as a family and what we would work on as far as things like enforcing rules around screen time. We also thought about our giving this year (in terms of tithing) and other home economic issues. We also did some fun things, going out for dinner and a movie on Wednesday evening after work. (About five minutes into "The Shape of Water," we were quite certain that it was a film that we would NOT take the children back to see. An intriguing film, nonetheless.) On Thursday morning, we had time to take a long walk in our neighborhood, outside the gates of our compound -- it's good to explore our surroundings a bit more.

On Thursday afternoon we went to a hotel in town called Ilboro Safari Lodge which is a beautiful place with a nice pool and a Belgian chef. We enjoyed relaxing there and had an excellent dinner and breakfast the following morning. We also had time to reflect quietly and pray very intentionally about the year. It was a much-needed respite together. Even though we had a vacation only recently, it is quite different being alone as a couple rather than a whole family.

The kids got back Friday afternoon and had quite a few stories. Oren actually came back and first words out of his mouth were ‘Never Again.’ But after reflecting with him on the things he did, he admitted that he would have been disappointed and felt left out if he did not participate. Rebecca collected some more details from them here: 

Oren returned from his class trip with mixed feelings. He is definitely not an outdoorsman by nature, and doesn't look forward to hiking and camping. On the other hand, he hiked 20 km over 4 days, including an extra 3 km on the final day. We asked if he got some kind of award for hiking that far, and he answered, "No, it was just for the personal acheivement." He also reported that the hiking was difficult and dangerous and at times, made him start talking about dominos with his classmates, as they walked along narrow trails, presumably with some kind of heights involved. Well, he called it the "cliff walk" so I guess I'm glad they didn't take me along! They did apparently have the reward of some lovely views: we still await the photos from the school staff who were taking pictures. Sadly, it was too rainy to hike to the waterfall they were meant to see and swim in. Maybe some other time we can get there as a family.

Flowers at Ilboru

The class stayed in 3 different campsites over the 5 nights, and Oren told us that he would enjoy going back to the final campsite as a family, if it were not under such stressful circumstances. That was good to hear! One group of students served as the entertainment committee, and on one afternoon, they set up a treasure hunt contest for their peers. Oren's group of boys came in second, and won the prize of 1st turn in the showers. 

Oren was able to share a 2-man tent with his good friend Abraham, and they had a lot of laughs. A cricket visited Abraham's sleeping mat on their last night and sent Abraham squealing into Oren's lap. There was colorful discussion of the options of how to deal with the situation, but it seems that Oren eventually persuaded Abraham that he should be more afraid of Oren than of the cricket.  They had lots of rain over the course of the week, and the school tents weren't perfectly waterproof, but at least their sleeping bags didn't get wet. 

passion flower

Other good moments for Oren included a visit to a school for blind children. He said it was very interesting to watch all the different creative ways those kids can learn. His class then met with the children and sang a song for them. Oren also enjoyed eating the chipsi mayai his classmates cooked on one occasion (french fries glued together with scrambled egg). He appreciated the time of processing and feedback that the staff led on their final day together, including the opportunity to remember all the funny moments of the trip. And finally, Oren astutely observed that the kids who went on the trip together would probably feel closer as a group than the kids who chose to stay home and do service projects during the regular school day. 

David's trip was much shorter -- just two nights away at nearby Lake Manyara national park. The class did several activities -- ride bikes, play a soccer game with a local school -- but apparently David didn't ride (not enough bikes) or play (he's no good at football). He did enjoy seeing wildlife on their game drive through the park, and he even claimed to have seen "a Green mamba on the bus." We were shocked and asked more about this. And he explained that he was on the bus when he saw the green mamba (a large green snake) on a tree outside. Phew! Who knows what he saw! We didn't get too many more details from him, but he seemed to like the trip and wasn't too concerned about sleeping away from home. 

Processing passion fruit

We took both kids to the pool for our Friday evening swim ritual -- very timely in this case as an opportunity for some soaking out the camping grime. And then, after dinner, we needed to head home for an early night. On Saturday, the kids had a little free time, but then the three of us left to help another missionary family move house. I'm not much of a heavy lifter, but at least I could bring a pick up truck and a pot of ham & pea soup for lunch. It was good to be working on this project in good company, and the new home will be great for our friends, espcially all the outdoor space their boys will have. It's hard to live behind walls in a cramped compound with active kids. 

On Sunday, I had to drag the kids with me to church early, because the Sunday school teaching team was meeting to set up a schedule for the new year. It's exciting to be getting involved officially, but also exciting to have someone else in charge of the Sunday school program. I'm still discerning exactly the right ways to be involved in this church, but I think it may end up being only partly with Christian education. After church, we had lunch together, just the three of us, and actually enjoyed very pleasant conversation and some word games as we waited for our food. And, an historical event happened: instead of ordering pizza for lunch, Oren requested a big salad. ;-) And loved it! David and I topped off the afternoon by processing a lot of the passionfruits he has been collecting. I shared several bags with friends, but David's collecting mania and the passionfruit season were equally paired and overwhelming. There were lots of fruits to cut and scoop out!

I (Paul again) was very sad to have to leave the house at 5 am on Saturday morning for a week just after the kids came back. I am looking forward to being back this Thursday but a 14 hour bus ride from hell stands between me and my reunion with the family. There will be a full report in the next installment. 

On the decision to abide

Mt. Meru on my Sabbath walk on Tuesday

It's Rebecca at the keyboard again this week...

We had a normal week! Everyone was at home and at work and school. We joined the rest of the world in having a spate of head colds. We lived through it all. So, what in the world is there to blog about?

Well, there was a small, but significant event that happened on Thursday evening at 5:30 pm, after we got home from work. I walked through the rain along the stone paths to meet with our landlord and begin the process of drawing up a new 1-year lease for our house.

It’s true: from the beginning of our time in Arusha, this has been an open question for us. Should we stay in the house that was found for us, after the 6-month lease runs out? Initially, we felt very, very far away from work and school and friends. Driving at night was hard and scary. But as time goes on, we have realized that Arusha is a sprawling community and almost everyone lives far away from something. I know we mentioned our new school bus arrangement, which eliminated the need for me to be driving in rush hour traffic for 1.5 – 2 hours every afternoon. That one change opened the possibility of staying in Njiro.

the startling white trunk of an acacia at dawn

Yes, from here, our mornings need to start early (5:15 am) to get the kids out the door by 6:40 and meet the bus by 7 am. But that also means we then have time to exercise before work. Also, our compound is very accessible by public transport with almost no walk, and no complicated directions for new visitors: Just drive down Njiro road until the tarmac ends and you're at our house! This is no small deal, we’ve discovered, as we have had to struggle to find friends who live in beautiful compounds tucked away off some dirt road that was the third turn after the mango tree after driving around the deep quarry on the left – and we even have a car! And the kids really, really don’t want to deal with another big change. I can appreciate that. Sometimes it’s good to find contentment with what you have, rather than constantly struggling to find the perfect arrangement somewhere else (knowing full well that there will be hidden problems wherever you go).

We love the compound here. It’s very peaceful and green, with so many trees and birds. And yet, there’s also good, healthy activity going on all the time. Guys are working on school furniture in the carpentry shop at the top of the compound. Joshua school teachers and their families live in staff housing on the bottom of the compound, just above the vegetable gardens and pigs and big compost pile.  Students play football (soccer) and volleyball in the field in between. 

finding fruit in the banana garden

And then the Joshua Foundation team members live in all kinds of interesting houses around us, and are often out and about and ready for a short or long conversation. We have both community and privacy. We’ve set up the trampoline and a new paddleball game from a departed friend. We can take walks. The kids can explore.

For example, over the weekend, David discovered a mango tree completely enveloped by a passionfruit vine: somehow, both can co-exist in an apparently healthy way. The mango tree is heavy with fruit that will be ripe in perhaps a month. But the passionfruit vine is busy dropping its fruit right and left this week. On their first visit, both David and his neighbor friend Josiah each returned home with a full shopping bag of passionfruit. David has revisited the tree at least 5 times since then, coming back with more round yellow fruits each time. And as a bonus, we have our own passion vine growing on the trees above our yard, too. It only drops 3 or 4 fruits a day, as opposed to 40, but still, the thrill is in the hunting and finding. 

And we all have been enjoying lovely tropical fruit salads of mango and banana and apple with the juice and seeds scooped out of the passion fruits as a garnish over the other fruits. Fruit salad alone made a good meal last night.

Really, we made the decision to stay in this house sort of by default – a growing sense of peace – probably back in November. But it’s interesting to notice a subtle change now the decision is official.

• For a long time, I’ve held off doing any gardening (subconsciously resisting the urge to put down roots?) But this week I put some new seeds in new pots.

Arugula (planted by my gardening mom in January to get me started)

• The Joshua Foundation team has a Sunday afternoon time of worship. We’ve been meaning to participate at some point, but we finally were able to attend for the first time this past Sunday. It’s a small, intimate gathering with Vineyard style worship and prayer and some teaching. Though we are not on the team, we are welcome, if not completely in our element. We were grateful to receive prayer and share some scripture and to see how we might come to know our neighbors better.

• David played very well with neighbor Josiah almost the whole afternoon on Saturday (they’ve had rough moments in the past, but are learning to co-exist).

• I’ve been meaning to invite Josiah’s family over for dinner for ages and we finally managed to get it together this evening after work. We really enjoyed talking with both Simon and Joanna, while their toddler kids ate and played around us. It was really fascinating to talk with Simon, a team pastor, about the complexities of being part of his Ugandan land-owning family system, amongst many other things.

• And finally, David found his old hedgehog again this morning, before we left for school. These moments seem like little signs that things are relaxing and settling.

hedgehog compan

I recall that when we left Burundi and spent a week in mission debriefing, we were taught that in moments of big transition (like moving countries) a family tends to contract. There just isn’t the capacity to really cope with relating to too many people and new things. One’s bandwidth is limited, in terms of physical and emotional energy. I’ve felt the need and desire to connect with more people, but I also have not felt the capacity to go out too far, and I have just kept repeating to myself, “Patience.” Now, there really has been a shift of sorts and I’m glad for it. There is the capacity to expand the circle again. Even while my nose was running, and eyes were streaming from the head cold, I really felt a great deal of contentment all week.

pre-dawn class bus

There were a few interesting events on this normal week, which I’ll just throw in. On Sunday morning, we left the house at 5:30 am to take Oren to school to start his “Activities Week” class camping trip in the Usambara mountains. They will be staying in tents, doing day-hikes and doing some service in the local community. Oren was anxious about going – he has some bad memories of tough things he had to do with the boy scouts I guess. So, we are praying that he will be open to the good aspects of this trip. David also has a shorter, 2-night camp out with his class from Wednesday to Friday. It’s not easy for the kids to be away from home, but we hope that they will come to see these as precious memories and experiences, the kinds of field trips you could never do in public school in the US.

After dropping off Oren, we came home and got ready for church, where Paul preached a sermon. Sadly, I was not able to listen, since I was teaching Sunday school yesterday. I know that he explored the episode in John 9, where Jesus heals a man born blind. It’s an amazing story, in which the gospel has a transformative effect on one man’s life—and you’d think everyone would be happy about it. Instead, we find that the gospel badly disrupts everyone else – the neighbors, the parents, the religious leaders – and people feel threatened and undone. No one likes this transformation. But that’s what the gospel does. Personal salvation, if it’s genuine, will disrupt all the other cultural norms and structures, and the saved, healed person may end up with more enemies than before.

One other sweet and serendipitous gift was given to me on Thursday. The woman who hosted our bible study will be moving to a new house within Arusha shortly, and packing is always a stressful process. I really didn’t have anything to do that afternoon, since I now work 3 days a week, and so it was easy to stay and be her packing cheerleader. Along the way, she treated me to lunch at her dining table, together with her cook and her gardener. We ate delicious pumpkin greens, cooked with peanut butter, and had some good conversation in Swahili. All three are delightful people and the conversation was very interesting. I realized that I can’t say or understand everything, but I can manage a fair bit, and it’s times of practice like that which are helping my language ability grow and open, like a bud that is getting ready to bloom.

passionfruit over the mango

Until I entered the sanctuary of God...

This week, it’s Rebecca writing the blog on behalf of our family. After a wonderful time on the coast, Paul gave my parents a final good weekend here in Arusha. Then he needed to single-handedly take over the job of transitioning our children back into school last week, after a month-long holiday. He reported that he nearly had a mutiny every morning as he tried to wake the kids before dawn in order to get them to the bus on time. Aside from a rough time getting back into the regular schedule though, things went fairly well for him and the kids.

David and Oren making cookies with Gramma Jean

Meanwhile, I had two days of transition back to the office before I needed to leave town to do something completely different from our normal Arusha routine. Back when we worked with MCC in Burundi, I became involved in a movement for Christian reconciliation in the region. It was called the Great Lakes Initiative (GLI), and it brought together “restless” Christian leaders from very different walks of life and gave them opportunity for theological reflection around the idea that reconciliation is the mission of God. It was one of the only venues we ever saw in that region in which both Catholic and Protestant leaders were willing to participate – and even pray – together. And alongside various bishops and other Protestant church leaders, Christian development workers and various community members came to tell their stories and learn from each other during an annual Institute. In between those gatherings, we began to develop a very active network in-country in Burundi. Here is a blog I wrote, right after my last opportunity to participate in the GLI Institute in 2014, if you want more details.

with fellow worship facilitator Acher

I had served on the Board of the GLI for several years until 2014, and when I returned to the continent, the GLI director Prof. Wilfred Mlay contacted me to see if I could become involved again. In fact, he and his wife live just 2 hours from us in Moshi in their retirement home, and we were able to visit them a few months ago. I was very thankful that my new MCC leaders saw the value in my continued participation and allowed me to go to Kampala, Uganda for the Institute. I was invited as a worship facilitator and a speaker on the final day.  Even before I left for Uganda, I had been in contact several times with the two other worship facilitators, one of whom was my pastor in Burundi, Acher Niyonizigiye. The other woman, Josephine Munyeli, and I had worked together on worship for 3 previous GLI Institutes and wrote the GLI theme song together. It was already wonderful and refreshing to be in contact with these old friends.

Our travel to Kampala went reasonably well, and put me in touch with a number of other participants coming from Tanzania. When we arrived, there was time to take some rest and then to begin to catch up with other old friends, including Emmanuel Ndikumana. He had led the IFES (Intervarsity) group in Burundi and then founded our Bujumbura church. Together, we had served as church elders and also worked very hard to bring Protestant leaders in Burundi together to have a positive impact on the formation of a legitimate Truth and Reconciliation Commission in Burundi. It was a great treasure to sense that the bonds formed during that hard work still remain. This was part of recalling a key component of the GLI. As we join God in his mission of reconciliation, we find that fellow travelers become family, and we become a “new we.”

The GLI Institute began on Sunday, but slowly. As participants trickled in, we had a small worship service on Sunday morning in the Ggaba seminary chapel. Again I was grateful that our venue was a place for the training of priests, with such a beautiful and awe-inspiring worship space. Mama Faith Mlay’s message to our small group will challenge me for a long time to come, as the starting point for reconciliation.

Are you willing to worship a God who refuses to be on your side?

Faith recalled the story of Joshua, a faithful and determined leader, who followed the instructions of God carefully. He had circumcised a new generation of Israelites and was preparing to attack Jericho, when he suddenly came across an unknown armed man (Joshua 5:13-15). Like any brave soldier would, he confronted the man and asked, “Whose side are you on? Are you for us or for our enemies?” He was totally unprepared for the answer:

“Neither,” he replied, “but as the commander of the Lord’s army I have come.” This angel demolished all of Joshua’s fixed categories of “us” and “them,” “our side – i.e. those who have truly understood the way of God” and “Their (godless, heathen and heretical) side.” In fact, there seemed to be a more important question implied here: Are you on the Lord’s side? And do you even know what that means?

Joshua had the presence of mind to do the right thing. He fell on his face in awe. And then he remembered to ask an important question. “What message does God have for us?” The angel confirmed that worship is the first and best response to understanding God’s perspective and God’s side: “Take off your shoes, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”

Since I’m from a country where everything is polarized, politicized, tribal and divided, it’s really difficult to resist the temptation of thinking in terms of “us” and “them.” I have a political perspective and I strongly feel drawn to it. And yet, who am I to ask God to bless “my side?” On the other hand, when I am able to really worship this God who won’t be on my side, when I pledge allegiance to the Lamb, then suddenly the strategy looks like sacrifice and victory looks like death on a cross. I don’t find the achievement of my agenda in any straightforward way. It’s not easy to let God be God.

The Institute began in earnest with an opening time of worship and an address from a faculty member at Duke Divinity School (one of the GLI partners). He recalled a critical moment in the history of the church, when Bishop Ambrose confronted two different emperors who were trying to coopt the church for their political ends. The church past has much to teach the church of the present.

Where are we headed? The New Creation

On Monday morning, we began our journey of theological reflection by recognizing that God has always been working on reconciling all things to himself. In God, another world becomes possible. Fr. Emmanuel Katongole, a Ugandan priest and academic, brought to life the story of Esther. It seemed that she was brought to a position of influence by chance, but in fact she had been prepared by God and was willing to listen to godly people speaking into her life. “Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” With prayer from the community, Esther is able to surrender to the will of God (“if I perish, I perish”) and confront the powers around her in order to change the outcome of events. Sadly, in the case of Esther, the Jews play by the same rulebook as Haman’s people who were determined to exterminate them. Fr. Katongole pointed out that God’s new creation involves more imaginative ways to open up new creation and include an expanding “we.”

We heard the inspiring witness of Dr. David and Dr. Kaswera Kasale. He resigned from a safe, well-paid position as head of a theological college in Nairobi to return to their home community in the Democratic Republic of Congo with 3 school-aged children. There, against all sense, they have established a Christian university and are revealing new creation on the outskirts of power.

What’s going on? Lament

Our second day compelled us to look critically at the world we live in, and to “see things which can only be seen with eyes that have cried.” God is bringing about new creation, but our reality falls far short. During worship, our devotional speaker Marion described in graphic terms some of the cases she is lamenting for in her home country of Kenya, and asked, “Does Jesus really care?” In worship we responded by calling out to God to see us: “Angalia, Baba!”

Father Jacob, a scholar from DRC, unpacked the short prophetic book of Obadiah with two very different imaginative readings. On the one hand, we see the struggle between Edom and Israel as a family struggle between two brothers, Esau and Jacob. As “Jacob” is being destroyed by Babylon and taken into exile, “Esau” just stands by to watch, to mock and even to profit from Jacob’s defeat. How often do we just stand on the sidelines while our brothers and sisters are suffering from war and displacement? On the other hand, Fr. Jacob pointed out that perhaps the nation of Israel, through the prophet Obadiah, is really just looking for a scapegoat to explain the suffering, blaming their problems on a nearby tribe, Edom, whom they already distrusted. He reminded us that “tribes exist, but ideology about tribes is constructed and imposed upon us.” As we lament, we need to also examine our ideologies and make sure we are not blaming others for our suffering, simply because of the dogma we’ve learned. We ended the day in worship, led by a group of Ugandan Catholics, crying out in many languages for our various countries.

Models of the torture tree

What does hope look like? Pilgrimage

On Wednesday morning, we left the seminary to take buses on a pilgrimage. We visited the site where 45 young Ugandan men (22 Catholics and 23 Anglicans) were martyred in 1886. Read more about the Uganda Martyrs here. Most of these young men were pages or officials, serving in the court of the Baganda King Mwanga II. Although his father had tolerated the conversion of some Baganda people, King Mwanga became increasingly upset with the new way of life he saw among the Christian converts. The final straw came when he heard them praying the Lord’s Prayer: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come…” 

King Mwanga heard a threat to his own power with this coming Kingdom and soon the young men were forced to declare their allegiance, either to the King or to Christ. All but three refused to renounce their faith and they were sentenced to death by burning. They walked, or were dragged on their backs, to the execution site Namugongo. They spent a week in chains, enduring torture, hunger and thirst, but also in prayer, refusing to recant. Finally, those who had lived through the week were bound in reed mats and burned alive. They died, singing and encouraging one another. As it turned out, the blood of the martyrs was the seed of the church. Even their chief executioner was converted by the testimony of the young men he killed. By the time missionaries were able to return to the area several years later, they found 1500 Christians waiting for instruction.

An Anglican church and museum has been built at the execution site, around the actual torture tree, and just up the hill from the spring where the executioners washed blood from their weapons. It includes an assortment of grisly sculptures, depicting the type of torture and inhumane treatment those Christian martyrs endured. Every facial expression asks the question of the observer: “faced with this, would you remain true to Jesus?” And on the other side we find a warning: Fear turns us into animals and allows us to treat other human beings the way those executioners tortured the young men.

Violette and new friend Sr Dona

It was a sobering day, and when we returned to Ggaba seminary we had some time to rest before reconvening. Dr. Celestin Musekura, a pastor from Rwanda, challenged us on what it looks like to have real Christian hope. He drew inspiration from 1 Peter 1:3-13, as Peter addresses a Christian community that has suffered poverty, displacement and persecution. And he asked a series of penetrating questions about “how to know if I am living in hope.”

1. Do I have an unquenchable joy? (v 6)
2. Do I value character growth more than feeling good? (v 7)
3. Am I doubting or deepening in my love for Jesus? (v 8 – 9)
4. Do I see the privilege of living in my time in history? (v 10 – 12)
5. Do I keep my eyes on the Prize? (v 13)

These questions challenge my faith even now. Am I motivated by joy or by fear? Do I have boldness? Am I seeking God’s direction in this time and giving thanks for it? Celestin was a great speaker, having literally risked his life to bring hope to people in refugee camps in Darfur, South Sudan and on the border with Burundi.

What kind of leadership do we need?

Violette and Ken responding to questions on leadership

On Thursday morning, two mature Christian leaders spoke to us of their life journeys and the kind of leadership they have been converted to. Violette Nyirarukundo was involved as an advisor of the MCC program in Rwanda, and I have sat at her feet in past years and learned much. She is a trained Christian counselor and spoke about overcoming the anger and resistance in her own heart, following the genocide in her country. She reminded us that “our suffering is precious. Don’t waste it. It can become a very important tool for God’s healing in the lives of others.”

Ken Butigen teaches Christian nonviolent responses to conflict. He encouraged us in the practical mobilization of a community to seek change nonviolently, pointing out that it actually works 2 times better than violent campaigns for change, according to rigorous research. He stressed the need for training and discipline in nonviolent action. And he encouraged Christian leaders to share the gospel of nonviolence with others. Interestingly, many pastors did not seem to be familiar with the link between the gospel and nonviolence, but were hungry to learn more. Most evangelical teaching focuses on personal salvation and neglects the way that Jesus actually lived. I personally think there is a growing edge in theological training around the person and practice of Jesus and how it offers us a new approach to living a holistic Christian life. And this relates directly to being a good Christian leader and a shepherd of our people.

Why me? Why bother? Spirituality for the long-haul

Kenyans leading worship

After a joyful time of worship, led by a team from South Sudan, I had been asked to speak on the final morning of our gathering. I really don’t think I’m the best person to speak on the topic of spirituality for the long-haul, but I guess I’m qualified in the sense that I’m still struggling but also still standing. I decided to explore Psalm 73 and reimagine it. Here is my new version of Psalm 73, after a fair bit of study of the text, a version which speaks to me, in my situation, today. In fact, I found I had to return to the topic of lament. I lamented the situation in which I find myself, what has happened in Burundi where I used to live and what has happened in my own nation. I lamented the fact that God has allowed the wrong people to enjoy the shalom that should go to God’s people. I talked about the anger and frustration, and the risk of finding our feet slipping when faced with the world we live in.

The only real corrective I’ve found is what Asaph also found: “I entered the sanctuary of God.” I urged my fellow Christian leaders to take a time of Sabbath. We need to gain God’s perspective on what we’re facing (not just endlessly rehearse our own side of the story). In Sabbath rest, we find solid ground, rest, strength, the ability to roar in anger and still feel God holding us firmly by the right hand. We receive counsel from God, which we couldn’t dream up on our own. And we, by God’s grace, might still have a story to tell of God’s goodness at the end of our days, as the martyrs did, rather than a story of bitter betrayal.

We ended the week with a time of joyful celebration in worship. Lots of different people participated and brought their musical gifts to bear. We received a charge from Dr. Musekura, and we ended by singing that “God is so good,” in at least 10 different languages.

In between all these highlights of content, I can’t even begin to recount the many intense 30 minute conversations with old and new friends, the meetings with colleagues from Tanzania, good times of connection with MCC staff from around the region, and even connections with Christian leaders from Baltimore, whom I might see again in the future. God was truly very good to me over this past week, and I am thankful.

New friends from Uganda

My return journey home was smooth, and I was very, very happy to see Paul and my sons again. It was especially sweet to receive all the snuggles from my boys and to have time to catch up together. Oren and David even agreed to take a walk with me when we got home, to share all that has been going on. And now, we are at the beginning of our first really normal week of 2018. I am grateful, and I am ready to see and understand the privilege of living at this time and place in history, and to find out what God has in mind for me and my family here.