Dear church friends in America, imagine this scenario if you can: a church has 2 Sunday morning worship services scheduled, one at 8a.m. and the other at 10a.m, each to last about 90 minutes. Then imagine the first one not ending until 10:30, with the second finally getting started at 10:45 and lasting until 1:45p.m, with a 45-minute sermon thrown in for good measure.
Well, such was the case with the Roman Catholic worship service we attended this morning. We found out later that the priest was visiting from another area and was of a charismatic bent (though I had guessed that along the way) and though the music was wonderful, three hours is a really, really, really long time for a service of worship to last. Oh, and did I mention that we were sitting on backless benches? Of course, being a liturgical service, we were up and down a number of times and there was lots of swaying and clapping which helped break things up, but I was so-o-o ready for the service to finally end.
Lest you think I did not enjoy or appreciate this worship experience, let me assure you that there were some elements of the worship that I loved. The choir not only processed in during the opening hymn, led by a quintet of little dancers, a drum and a shaker, a crucifer, and 2 acolytes, but they also went out and then processed again for the Gospel procession, with the Bible being held aloft by a tall, smiling lay person. AND they again processed to present the offerings which had been received, as well as to present the elements for Communion. Each time there was clapping and singing and swaying and "stepping" by the choir, echoed by the entire congregation.
I also really like the entire congregation coming forward to present their offerings. The imagery is so powerful...the people of God presenting themselves and their gifts in a continuing procession of men, women, and children. Oh, and I might add- there were 5 offerings! Since the service was in Swahili, I didn't get all of the reasons for them, but after the offering by the entire congregation, there was one by the men, one by the women, and one by young people. And last, there was the offering received in behalf of the newly-begun "Kenyans for Kenya", to help with the famine in the northern and western parts of the country. I tried to imagine doing this in either the congregation where I am a member or the one I presently serve and I figure I would be quickly run out of town on a rail! But these folks- living in a poor area, I might add...not quite the slums but the next step up, known as "estates", where people live primarily in apartment buildings which resemble tenements in some of our major cities...dark hallways, laundry hanging from the porch railings, streets unpaved and deeply rutted, and the perpetual mounds of trash everywhere- responded. Giving, like hospitality, seems deeply ingrained in the hearts and souls of the Kenyan people and I suspect more than one of the donors was giving "the widow's mite"...the last of what they had for this day.
One more thing I loved was the painting of the Last Supper on the wall behind the free-standing altar, portraying an African Jesus and 12 disciples. It was simply beautiful and, along with paintings on the other 3 walls, greatly enhanced both the worship space and the worship experience for me. So be prepared, dear friends in America, for this Lutheran pastor to make some slightly daring changes in our worship experience. Be prepared to open your minds and hearts to welcome some of the "gifts" from our African sisters and brothers. After all, we're ALL God's children...and we're all in this together.
Pomoja, watoto!
Showing posts with label Sunday morning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday morning. Show all posts
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Up to Date..
Yea! Maddie has arrived in Nairobi and is sharing our tent until Wednesday. So wonderful to see her. She shared my journey last summer and we became fast friends. It is lovely to have young friends (she’s a twenty-something and new college graduate)…they go a long way to keep me feeling youthful myself- and isn’t that a large part of the whole matter of aging? Not worrying about facial wrinkles or bodily stiffness, but rather the attitude of keeping an open, youthful, ever-willing-to-learn mind and spirit.
On Thursday, we came up with the idea to plant flowers outside the front wall of the Nyanya pre-school, so Julius took us to a gardening center and we made our purchases, thanks to the generosity of some of Mae’s friends who had given her some money to use for the preschool. Tuesday morning will be planting time, with Maddie, Mae, and I the gardeners. One of the plants we purchased is called Golden Fountains and our hope is that eventually it will cover that wall as effectively as the one at the Wildebeest.
Haven’t been able to post as often as I would like due to problems with the power. For example, today it was out for about 5 hours, which meant no internet. And when we were shopping for bottled water earlier in the evening, the lights in the supermarket went out twice, neither time for very long, but still… You learn to shrug your shoulders and say, TIA…this is Africa.
“Oh,” I said, “I have some good friends who live there, a retired pastor and his wife. He used to be the pastor of a large Lutheran church in St. Pete.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jerry Straszheim,” I replied.
“Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “That’s our church. Jerry was our pastor for many years.”
Talk about a small world. Who would have thought I’d meet someone halfway across the world who knows someone I know? Jerry, if you’re reading this, Denise and Tiffany say hi.
Saturday was another slow-paced day. A later breakfast, some good breakfast table conversation with a woman from England, a father and son from L.A., a couple of young people from the Netherlands, and a med student from Liverpool. That’s one of the things I love about this place, the amazing variety of people who come through here, from so many different countries. Conversing with them is a great way to broaden one’s horizons…helps remind me that the U.S.A. is not the only place in the world and the American point of view is not the only one. It also is a great reminder that in spite of differences, we share a common humanity, that compassion & courtesy & respect, smiles & laughter & listening translate across any language barriers.
Which brings us to Sunday. Attended mass today at St. Benedict's with Julius and his family: wife, Beatrice, sons, Zedi and Dale, and daughter, Whitney. How delightful to have drums accompanying the music, to have the congregation clapping, to have the choir swaying as they sang, to have hands raised on the “Halleluias!” The sanctuary was full, about 300 people, and this was the second service of the morning, the first just as full.
Then, off to see Mary (founder of the Nyanya Project) who had returned from Rwanda and to get some feel for the Biblica Guesthouse, which is where we’ll be staying after our return to Mount Kenya next weekend. A lovely place with beautiful grounds, the rooms small but lovely. We’ll be in and out of there over the following 3 weeks, interrupted by trips to Rwanda and to the Masaai Mara.
And now it’s time for bed. Only 8p.m. but the day has been long, with another long walk late this afternoon. I believe we’re getting accustomed to being the only mzungus (white people) in sight. A totally different experience, being in the minority…and more than a bit humbling. Tutaonana jioni kesho, rafiki yangu. (See you tomorrow evening, my friend.)
On Thursday, we came up with the idea to plant flowers outside the front wall of the Nyanya pre-school, so Julius took us to a gardening center and we made our purchases, thanks to the generosity of some of Mae’s friends who had given her some money to use for the preschool. Tuesday morning will be planting time, with Maddie, Mae, and I the gardeners. One of the plants we purchased is called Golden Fountains and our hope is that eventually it will cover that wall as effectively as the one at the Wildebeest.
Haven’t been able to post as often as I would like due to problems with the power. For example, today it was out for about 5 hours, which meant no internet. And when we were shopping for bottled water earlier in the evening, the lights in the supermarket went out twice, neither time for very long, but still… You learn to shrug your shoulders and say, TIA…this is Africa. An amazing thing happened at dinner Friday evening, one of those “No way!” experiences which seem so improbable even as they’re happening. I was sitting next to a woman who was obviously an American (our speech patterns always give us away). We got to talking and I learned that she and her daughter were from St. Petersburg, FL.
“Oh,” I said, “I have some good friends who live there, a retired pastor and his wife. He used to be the pastor of a large Lutheran church in St. Pete.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jerry Straszheim,” I replied.
“Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “That’s our church. Jerry was our pastor for many years.”
Talk about a small world. Who would have thought I’d meet someone halfway across the world who knows someone I know? Jerry, if you’re reading this, Denise and Tiffany say hi.
Saturday was another slow-paced day. A later breakfast, some good breakfast table conversation with a woman from England, a father and son from L.A., a couple of young people from the Netherlands, and a med student from Liverpool. That’s one of the things I love about this place, the amazing variety of people who come through here, from so many different countries. Conversing with them is a great way to broaden one’s horizons…helps remind me that the U.S.A. is not the only place in the world and the American point of view is not the only one. It also is a great reminder that in spite of differences, we share a common humanity, that compassion & courtesy & respect, smiles & laughter & listening translate across any language barriers.
Which brings us to Sunday. Attended mass today at St. Benedict's with Julius and his family: wife, Beatrice, sons, Zedi and Dale, and daughter, Whitney. How delightful to have drums accompanying the music, to have the congregation clapping, to have the choir swaying as they sang, to have hands raised on the “Halleluias!” The sanctuary was full, about 300 people, and this was the second service of the morning, the first just as full.
 |
| St. Benedict's Catholic Church |
 |
| Beatrice and Dale |
 |
| Zedi and Whitney |
Then, off to see Mary (founder of the Nyanya Project) who had returned from Rwanda and to get some feel for the Biblica Guesthouse, which is where we’ll be staying after our return to Mount Kenya next weekend. A lovely place with beautiful grounds, the rooms small but lovely. We’ll be in and out of there over the following 3 weeks, interrupted by trips to Rwanda and to the Masaai Mara.
And now it’s time for bed. Only 8p.m. but the day has been long, with another long walk late this afternoon. I believe we’re getting accustomed to being the only mzungus (white people) in sight. A totally different experience, being in the minority…and more than a bit humbling. Tutaonana jioni kesho, rafiki yangu. (See you tomorrow evening, my friend.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)