Sunday Surprise in the Bush

Since we moved to Zambia a month ago, we have experienced many surprises. One of the best occurred yesterday.

We climbed into the Land Rover at 7:30 Sunday morning. Rodgers Namuswa, a member of Namwianga’s church development team, had invited us to join him on a visit to two fledgling congregations. He explained that these churches were started after last year’s medical mission clinic at Nazzibula. This news thrilled us, since we have been part of the spiritual team on the medical mission for several years. In fact, only a week earlier we had completed the 2005 clinic tour.

Rodgers wanted David to preach for the Sicikwalula group, and he had asked me to teach a class for the ladies. We stopped to pick up Mrs. Jope who would serve as my translator and two others who would also accompany us and translate.

After two hours of bumping along rugged bush roads, we arrived at Sicikwalulu. A few early arrivers greeted us warmly. Mrs. Jope and I watched as one of the women chased and caught a squawking chicken. “She’s preparing our lunch,” Mrs. Jope explained.

The church meets in an abandoned building that was once used as a government outpost to battle the tsetse fly. Two small rooms had been joined by knocking a large hole in the wall between them. Rough-hewn planks set on stones formed lines of benches in the larger room. Centered in the smaller room was the communion table—a large flat rock set up on smaller rocks—with benches lining the four walls.

Mrs. Jope and I were seated in the larger room with the other women and the children. The men sat around the communion table in the smaller room. People of all ages trickled in until both rooms were crammed with worshipers. Spirited singing echoed off the concrete walls, and I listened again in amazement at the beauty of Tonga voices lifted up to the Lord.

The communion service, led by the local church leader, was solemn. The time came for the collection. The leader reminded us that we all have something to give, and that it doesn’t have to be money. I dropped some Zambian kwacha into the chipped enamel bowl as it passed. A few minutes later I looked up to see the dish piled high with cobs of corn. Later on, the announcement was made that today’s offering totaled 25,000 kwacha (around $6.00) and 10 cobs of corn. Mrs. Jope explained later that the members will save up the corn until they have a bucket full. Then they will sell the bucket of corn and use it to buy wine for the communion.

David preached the morning sermon, explaining that we had come to Zambia with a story to tell—the story of Christ’s love for all. After the preaching, the leader introduced the dignitaries in attendance: two village chiefs and a district councilor. Each of them stood and thanked David and me for leaving our home in America to come to Zambia and work.

The service ended with the traditional shaking of hands. The first person out the door greeted and shook hands with the second person. The second person then stood next to the first as they greeted the third. The process continued, forming a long greeting line that allowed each person to shake hands with everyone else.

Now the ladies gathered outside on the ground for their class. As I looked around, I recognized some familiar faces. I racked my brain trying to think when I might have encountered these ladies before. Perhaps they had been at last week’s clinic? “I know that I’ve met some of you,” I confessed. “Were any of you at Singwamba for the medical mission?” The ladies smiled and replied, “No, we met you last year at Nazzibula clinic.”

I taught the class, and we enjoyed a delicious meal of fresh chicken and nshima prepared by the ladies. We bid them all goodbye and set off for Namwianga again. As we bumped along, Rodgers told me how this congregation came into being. “There were eight ladies who were baptized on the medical mission in July of 2004,” he explained. “In November we came back to this area and found them. We started meeting with them, and one woman’s husband was baptized and is now the leader.

Then I remembered—I had studied with some of these ladies in 2004. In particular I remembered two of them who had come at the end of the last clinic day. The clinics were closing down as the daylight faded. The two women walked up and asked to be baptized. I studied with them to make sure they understood the commitment they were making. They were determined, even though the day was bitterly cold and becoming colder as darkness fell. All the baptismal clothes that we had available were still wet, so the two women had to put on wet garments and then step into the freezing water of our portable baptistry. There were no dry towels for them when they came out of the water, but we managed to find some blankets to wrap them in. Several of us on the spiritual team gathered around them after they dressed again and prepared to leave. We gave them each a Bible and prayed, asking God to bless their new walk with him. We watched as they set off into the bush, never imagining that we would meet them again.

God has many surprises ahead for us. We look forward to more like this one.