preaching in South Africa

We were invited to preach in one of the rural churches in South Africa.  After making the journey through the countryside and across the border, we were informed that the church would be used for funerals on Sunday.  It was not appropriate to preach when two members of the congregation had died that week.  There were many rituals that needed to be honored.  We were not told the cause of the death, but we could speculate.  We were sent to another church in the area.   

We were lead by car and a guide   would have never found it any other way.  The concrete building was constructed to hold approximately 100 people, but there was closer to 250 sitting, standing, and pouring out into the lot outside, and filling up the doorways.  No air conditioning, no open windows, no fans.  No over head with the words for worship, no café, no cappuccinos machines, nor bookstores.  Just the saints, men, women and children dressed in tribal wear, and contempory suits and dresses.  They did not know us, and I felt their apprehension as we were walking to sit in the front row.  Their faces seemed to be saying, “Are you white people here to talk down to us, tell us what we are doing wrong, and how YOU think we can do it better?” The worship was loud, anointed and lead by the Spirit.  The Lord began to speak to me about the people, what they needed, and what their daily lives were like.  I wept and prayed as they sang.  There was a group of about 25 or 30 little children seated by the stage. Looking in their eyes, you can tell who is ill.  The whites of their eyes are yellow; the circles that surround them are dark and sunk in.  I wondered if I were to come back to this place a year from now, how many would be gone.  I did not say a word to Gary about the sense I was getting; turns out I didn’t have to. From the moment he opened his mouth for the interpreter I knew he had been listening to the same whisper.  He put the people immediately at ease with encouragement, love, and hope.  My husband spoke over their lives, and prophesied over their futures.  He spoke to them with honor and told them how blessed he felt to be with them.  Gary simplified a deep message to save time for an engagement ceremony they had planned.  The heart of the message was received with nods, tears, and hand waves and, of course ‘Amen’.  As we left, we were embraced with hugs, handshakes and sincere thanksgiving.  It really was our privilege however; the power of God and salvation is so much more real when the people are on the edge of life and death.  Heaven and Hell is more intense when it stares you in the face.  I respect these people more than any I have ever met.  They stare at death, starvation, and poverty everyday.  Yet they are far from hopeless…They are completely dependant on the Lord, for everything.We can all learn so much from them.