Day 4

Sunday Morning. We are all a bit tired, but we look forward to naps after church. Church is a special service this morning as they honor four new pastors being sent out by the church, each of whom gave a mini sermon to accompany the main sermon. I feel all preached up, and didn’t understand a word of it. After our three hours of church we headed back to our lodging for a quick lunch before taking off to see Stanley Rock, the famous place where Stanley and Livingston met. Then we had to hurry back for a celebration reception for the four pastors. This reception involved a lot more preaching, (or I assume that is what they were doing since they talked a lot and I didn’t understand any of it). This service was also three hours long. A nap is definitely out of the question.

Now let me back up a minute for those of you who assume my comment about the length of the service is a complaint. Yes, a three hour service is a bit of a culture shock, but not as big as the other culture shocks I received. Shocks like small children sitting in the front of the church without their parents for the full three hours without complaint. Shocks like nine choirs in one church each of whom sang with gusto and joy that belied their impoverished state of being. Shocks like a building that Americans would feel crowded if shared with 400 others stuffed with 1200 eager worshippers including those who didn’t have seats and those over-flowing out the doors. Shocks like citizens of the poorest country in the world standing in line for nearly 20 minutes for their opportunity to put a tithe or offering in the basket. The service was long, but it was so jam-packed with prayer, worship, surrender, praise to God, and solid Bible teaching that it may not have been long enough. The widow’s mite was given by worshipper after worshipper. If someone had no money, they gave sand to make bricks. If they had no sand they gave time to make the bricks. If they didn’t know how to make bricks, they would haul the sand to the brick makers, and if they didn’t have the back for hauling sand they would bring drinks to the workers. Everybody gave something, most gave generously and sacrificially. For an impoverished church in the slums of Burundi, it may have been the wealthiest group with whom I have ever had the honor to worship.

           We meet every person who attended the service…twice, then head back to the guest house for a leisurely dinner and a much needed early trip to bed.