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Monday, January 7, 2008

Tchalichi... Being stretched and molded


Each week, I am faced with an interesting scenario.

Church.
(The picture above is not where I go to church... it's just a beautiful church in Blantyre)

I'm a Christian.

At home, church to me is more than tchalichi (the building), it's Mpingo (the body of Christ).

Throughout my time at university, I would crave what Sunday morning or Saturday night would hold. I fell in love with the Mpingo that surrounded me.

As we all naturally do, in whatever culture we find ourselves brought up in, we become accustomed to something being done a certain way. It is so easy to think that the slightest variations from that are the announcement of the end of the world.

I have always allowed myself to think outside the box when it comes to church. I never really fell into the molds of how things had always been done. I am always looking for something real and genuine... something other than routine.

But, even in the midst of an open mind, I come here and find that I was really only standing inside a transparent box. I couldn't see it when I was at home. I thought I was game for anything. I could worship God in any way, shape, form, building, language... you name it!

But, something about being in a different culture creates a glare on that shiny glass box that I live in, and I become aware that I am much less adaptable than I originally suspected.

Going to church here has been a process for me.

Not gonna lie... there are many Sundays that I stare up at my blue mosquito net and rack my brain to think of an excuse to just lay there.

You see... I've never liked doing things merely for the sake of doing them. Especially when it comes to church. It never makes sense to me to do something because it's always been done and recite something that no one knows the meaning of, just because that's what you're supposed to do.

I think deep down, I just have a rebel flag tattooed somewhere that I can't see. I'm always wanting to buck the system for some good reason.

Then I land here.

Excitedly, I get to church early the first time I go. I had so many expectations and yet no idea what would really happen. I remember being giddy that day after I experienced a worship service here.

Then, weeks turn into months, and one service entirely in Chichewa turns into many.

The cultural experience of "church" just isn't getting me out of the bed with bells on anymore.

In my mind, I can't figure out what purpose I have for going to a building and sitting in a sharp, metal chair for 2 hours and not understanding a single word.

But, pang'ono pang'ono (little by little), the Lord is stretching and bending me and chiseling away at that glass box that I built around myself.

This past Sunday was kind of a breaking point for me.

I have been complaining a lot about how hard it is to sit through church. Then, I realized I really needed to pray about my attitude and just pray for the local church here in Malawi.

So, I'm sitting on the second row, and all is well.

This Sunday, the guy that was more or less M.C.ing the service was someone that I hadn't seen before... and he was pretty lively! He yells "Hallelujah!!", and our response is "AMEN!".

Then, right after a prayer, and straight out of the blue sky, I hear him say, "Give me a 'J'!"...

I think anyone could have seen my jaw hit the floor and my 'you gotta me kiddin me' face. In sheer amazement of the moment, all I could think about was how much I wanted a recorder at this moment.

We definitely went through all five letters... J-E-S-U-S... and a exuberant "What does that spell?" at the end!

It was all the willpower I could muster up to not just loose it right there on the 2nd row.

But, as I kinda let out a chuckle to myself, thinking how ridiculous that would sound in my church back home, I realized that it is just as much "worship" as a group of white folk singing with their eyes closed and hands lifted... or singing the ancient hymns that have stood for centuries... or bowing down at the alter... or partaking in communion.

Was I too cool to yell a simple "J-E-S-U-S"? The very name that we gather to worship in the first place.

Later in the service, as we began singing worship to the Lord, I found myself swept away in the Chichewa lyrics that I did not know the meaning of. I sang with all of my heart with my brothers and sisters in Christ, and in the intimacy of those moments, I was so thankful that the Lord is calling people all over the world to worship him. It looks so different in every circumstance.

As I've had to make due with what is here for me... I've come to realize that all my white, Western ducks don't have to be in a row for me to meet with the Lord.

One of the most amazing worship times I've experienced was just a few weeks ago...

I was visiting a really small church outside of Lilongwe. These guys met under a structure that was literally a 20' x 10' tin roof with a few horizontal boards nailed up as "walls". There were only a handful of people gathered together there.

Half-way through the service, as we were singing, the bottom fell out! It rained HARD! The structure was doing little to keep the rain out, and we all just kinda huddled together as far away from the permeable walls as we could. The whole time, no one stopped singing. As the rain on the tin roof reached deafening decibels, we just got louder and louder. It was so awesome!

Later in that service, as people walked up to the front in single file to place their offering at the alter, a lady walked all the way from the back, and placed a live chicken in the hands of the pastor. I was really taken aback.

The way faith is played out in different parts of the world will definitely look different. Although the money may have been tight that week, this lady still had the right heart.

I am so thankful to have the opportunity to be stretched in my own faith. To realize that I'm not the expert or the police on worship or Christianity around the world. I still have so much to learn!

I'm sure when this Sunday rolls around, I will stare at my mosquito net once again and negotiate with myself. It's still not easy...

But, I am on a journey. And... I'm getting there.

8 comments:

SaraEaker said...

Great post. Great. But first let's talk about this,
"Throughout my time at university" why have you let that candian girl infiltriate your speech? You meant to write, "Throughout my time at college..." remember?!?

Alright, now seriousness. I loved the line that mere cultural experience did not motivate you any longer. I totally felt that as I was there for two weeks. I knew that my feelings of awe and wonder would fade quickily if I had spent much more time there. The awe of hearing people praise Jesus in another language is powerful, but it can get draining when you can't sing right along with them. I will keep praying for you, not really sure exactly what for yet, but I know God has some amazing purpose there.

Also, J-E-S-U-S...amazing. I only wish I could have witnessed it myself. Thanks for sharing!

Ryan Price said...

OK... It's not just Canadians that say "university"... the rest of the known world refers to it as that. So, I figured I would go with majority rules.

Cynthia Innes said...

Okay, I feel like you just walked next door and kicked me in the pants. And now I have to do something about it. Nice work. Though I wish I had posted this first and kicked you in the pants.

PS. Sara, you've been speaking Canadian lately too. Don't fight it.

jaye carol said...

I think you have given us a tiny glimpse of what Heaven will be like. You have been blessed to experience a little Heaven on earth, worshipping with people of a different tongue and culture. I can't wait to get there and experience what you are writing about.

SaraEaker said...

Cynthia...let's clear this up. I really like the way you inflect your sentences. I did it while I was there, I even do it sometimes now...I am probably the only one who notices. So I just want to let you know that I don't think all canadian speech is bad...but just some of it...haha. I love you.

And if I had ever really kicked you in the pants it wouldn't be punishment...I am pretty weak.

Cynthia Innes said...

my dearest sara,
i like the way i inflect my sentences too. im glad that's catching on. i would like it to be a movement someday. i guess you guys don't use the term 'kick in the pants.' perhaps youre a little more peaceful down there in the big state.... it means being convicted. i was being all convicted by ryan's post, not beat up by your feelings towards the canadian language. don't worry, love. but you should likely take a trip back to malawi to sort this all out.

Garratts said...

I miss you, and I love the word, Doo-Doo head...and I also love possums.

Ash

Ryan Price said...

Was this comment from Mike or Ashley?!

This just goes to show you that, although I have Comment Moderation, I really will post whatever you write!