A Viral Faith

I’m sitting on my deck, which Abby and I have been doing a lot of lately, and thinking about the COVID-19 pandemic. Social distancing, voluntary self-quarantines, working from home, on-line worship, closed borders, at-home school, and on and on it goes.

On the one hand, it’s a scary and strange time, especially for those of us in the USA who are generally free from the threat of widespread novel diseases, not to mention even small inconveniences of any kind.

(As a side note, I was talking to my dear Zambian friend, Percy Muleba, a couple of weeks ago when this whole thing was accelerating and, as a two-time tuberculosis survivor, he asked a simple question. “Is it worse than tuberculosis?” In a country with an anemic health care system, and which already deals with tuberculosis, malaria and HIV/AIDS on a daily basis, his question makes perfect sense. Zambians, like most around the world, are already well acquainted with severe medical hardship.)

On the other hand, it’s a time of opportunity, a time to reflect, to reconnect with our families, to evaluate our values and purpose, and even to share our faith. At times like this, people are perhaps more willing to talk about ultimate things.

It’s often been said, “Christianity is better caught than taught.” And throughout history Christianity has indeed spread virally, passing from one personal epicenter to another, multiplying through relationships across familial, racial, ethnic, cultural, and national lines. Today, Christianity is the most widespread, culturally diverse movement in the world, and it's continuing to multiply rapidly, especially across the Developing World.

Who knows, maybe there’s something to be learned from COVID-19, even as we pray and work for its end. Maybe it can remind us that the true and eternal healing we all yearn for also multiplies from one person to another, one relationship at a time.

So during this time of social distancing, let’s be open to the possibility of passing our faith, hope and love in Jesus to just one more person. Maybe it’s time to make that phone call, write that email or schedule that video chat. Who knows, maybe we’ll experience a new pandemic of the life that is truly life?

Even so, come Lord Jesus!

Update: As you might imagine, our May 12th trip to Zambia and Namibia is likely delayed. We’ll keep you posted as things unfold. Meanwhile, please pray for Percy and his family, and for our students who are facing stringent Covid-19 restrictions in the midst of an ongoing severe drought.

Remember when we used to hold hands?

“My people perish for lack of knowledge…” Hosea 4:6

Drought (noun): a prolonged or chronic shortage of something expected or desired.

When we hear the word drought, we usually think of dry, dusty land, of lost crops and a shortage of food, of hungry children, of starvation.

The drought in western Zambia is now in its fourth year. The last corn crop was completely lost. The fish spawning grounds in the Zambezi river are dry, and cattle are dying. People are starving, and some have been reduced to digging roots in the bush to survive. One man was arrested for trying to sell one of his children for a bag of meal. The desperation is real. Our friends in the bush villages are among the desperate.

Meanwhile, there’s another kind of drought in Zambia. And, it's not due to a lack of rain. It's a spiritual drought, a drought of knowledge about the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And people are starving and desperate for it, too!

Our dear Zambian friend and colleague, Percy Muleba recently recounted that he had just returned from his first trip to Shangombo late last year, a village deep in the Western Province of Zambia, a village where we will begin training in 2020. Eight churches and 80+ students gathered for three days of training in Biblical Worship. And, it went very, very well. But, the situation there is desperate. How desperate?

One morning, a student approached Percy to apologize for being late to class. The young man said, “I am sorry to have arrived late. My grandmother died of starvation this morning.”

And then according to Percy, he turned, sat down, and joined the class for the rest of the day, so desperate was he for solid biblical training.

This is what we find whenever we teach in Zambia. Hungry people. Hungry for food to be sure. Desperately hungry. But hungrier and even more desperate for the food of God's Word, both theological and practical. It's very humbling to teach them. It’s an eternal privilege. And we are grateful for it.

Please pray for western Zambia that the drought will end. Pray for rain, to be sure. But, pray also that God's desperate people will be fed God's Word.

If you would like to contribute financially to our mission, please click on “Give" at the top of the page (desktop) or under the Menu (mobile). Then simply follow the prompts. Any gift is deeply appreciated!

And, remember…When we go, you go!

Training under the tree in Nangweshi, Zambia

Catching Our Breath

Abby and I are sitting at the gate in Livingstone, Zambia awaiting our flight to Johannesburg, South Africa…

Wow! What an intense seven weeks! We’ve trained in Mongu, Nangweshi and Livingstone, Zambia, as well as in Katima Mulilo and Chetto, Namibia. We’ve trained youth leaders, pastors, elders, deacons, Sunday School directors, and more. As of tomorrow, we’ll have preached seven times between us in five different churches. And, perhaps more than on any of our other trips, we've had significant one-on-ones with former and current students.

It’ll take us some time to process this trip, especially our initial interaction with the Khwe people. Their needs run so deeply, and our opportunity to train them in the future will likely require a fresh approach.

Thank you for loving and supporting us, and for praying faithfully for us. We are so grateful!

And, never forget that when we go, you go!

Sunset on the zambezi river in Livingstone, Zambia

Sunset over a drought-stricken victoria falls

The Opportunity of Difficulty

It’s been almost a week since our third and final visit to the Khwe community in Chetto, Namibia. To say we’ve needed, and still need, time to process our experience is a significant understatement.

Our encounters with Pastors Nelson and Wilson, with several Khwe families, with the Khwe church, and finally with fifteen students who had at least some English, were both troubling and encouraging at the same time.

What was troubling? The level of poverty which is worse than we’ve ever encountered was troubling. The government ban on hunting and farming was troubling. The limited vocabulary of the Khwe language was troubling. And, the mixed reaction to our white, Western presence was troubling, although not unexpected.

One story gives a glimpse into what we experienced. During our training, we used the word sin, which isn’t surprising. After all, it’s not really possible to talk about the Gospel without discussing the meaning and nature of sin. What was startling was when Pastor Nelson, who speaks pretty good English, told us that the Khwe language does not have a word for sin. It does have a word for problem, he told us, so he asked: “Do sin and problem mean the same thing? Or is there a difference?”

Twenty minutes later, after using stories, role playing, and discussion, we think we were able to communicate the difference between the two words, and help the students understand the relational nature of sin. I wonder…

Yet, we were also very encouraged by our visits. We were warmly welcomed by everyone we met. We shared a joyful and heartfelt worship experience with their beautiful voices joined in harmony. We established relationships with several Khwe who spoke passable English. We discovered to our delight that Khwe does have an alphabet and, in fact, that a translation of Genesis is in the works. And, our students were enthusiastic and full of laughter, and expressed a strong desire to continue training, despite our struggles with language issues.

It strikes all of us, Percy, Abby and I, that if we're going to be effective, we're going to have to rewrite the curriculum which has worked beautifully in Zambia and Namibia up until now. We'll have to begin with the basics, and slow down the process. And, we'll have to allow their questions to direct our curriculum and training, at least in the beginning.

So what’s next? Well, Percy will return and meet with them without us present sometime in the next few months, in order to talk “African” with them, so to speak. After that, we’ll decide if Percy should begin training them without us to lay the groundwork and let us join in later, or if we’ll begin together when Abby and I return next year. In short, Percy needs more time with them to get a good feel for their culture, build relationships, and help them understand that we bring training only, and offer no other relief or aid of any kind.

Please pray for the Khwe community, and for our discernment process. And pray as we finish Phase 3 training with our Katima friends, and continue Phase 1 with some new Katima Bible school students.

And remember…Where we go, you go!

Our Khwe students were joyful and enthusiastic!

Amos and his sons raptly listeN to percy's teaching on biblical worship.

Many of the khwe children were a bit shy.

This lovely khwe girl was a delight to meet.

This typical khwe family was on the move along the highway.

Pastor Jack (R), an old friend of Percy's, introduced us to khwe pastors nelson (l) and wilson (m).