About this time 11 years ago I was returning from a trip to Tanzania. If you're like me, that isn't very easy to place on a map. Tanzania is a very large swath of land situated on the eastern coast of Africa, south of Kenya and north of Mozambique.
Swahili was the common language, though many people were multi-lingual. (Yes, multi. Swahili, English, French, and often a tribal dialect as well!)
The capital city, Dar es Salaam, was a study in third-world economic diversity. The vast majority were poorer than anything I'd ever seen. Cardboard huts so close together that a car--which no one could afford--wouldn't have fit down the "street." The smells were rancid. I think I described it to my sweet wife as a combination of burning trash and human waste. Yet not far away were neighborhoods with homes as nice as many in the nicer neighborhoods of my town, Bowling Green, Kentucky. Even the smell was faint there.
I traveled with my buddy, Steve Gray. We were both worship pastors, but were going to offer training to pastors. It was an amazing trip. ("Amazing" was the favorite word of our fantastic host, Moses Mboya.)
I saw beauty I'd never imagined, especially in creation and in the faces of children. I also sensed the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in ways I didn't know were possible. I am so grateful for my time there!
There were some uniqueness about the worship of locals that I found interesting enough to think you might enjoy them too. Here are my top 5:
5) Women were usually the ones "running the show." Don't let that language get in the way. While these women were definitely running things, they did more than emcee. They were spiritual authorities, and they wore that responsibility with grace and confidence. Reminds me of Jesus, who came "full of grace and truth." (John 1:14)
4) Children were very active in the services. They sang. They danced. They acted out Bible stories. They were always thoroughly prepared and fully engaged. Below is a picture of a little girl (maybe 8?) who was weeping as part of her character in the play-song being brought to life for us. Her tears flowed generously. There was nothing merely "cute" about the role of these youngsters. They were empowered storytellers.
3) The simple buildings were adorned with beauty. Again, even in this third-world culture, the church found ways to make the worship space beautiful. Vibrant. Sacred.
2) Singing was vigorous. I can't find a better word. They sang hard. They worshiped hard. Whether it was "How Great Thou Art" (maybe Swahili was the original language for that song... not really, but they sang it like it was!) or a song I couldn't understand and had never heard--more tribal and drum-accompanied--their singing was not obligatory or contrived. It was gut deep. Soul deep.
1) Note taking was very different. In the U.S. we tend to jot down an insightful, pithy comment the preacher makes. In Tanzania, the only thing they wrote down was scripture. It's like they were listening to us ramble until we said something God said; that's what they'd want to remember. Seems wise.
I'm concerned that U.S. culture has made much of what I described nearly impossible. So now I'm curious, what do you wish we would learn from the believers in other countries, anything?
I miss the friends I made in those 16 days. Even more, I miss the freedom the Holy Spirit had to move, to act, and to lead. Maranatha.
