African Church

In fitting with all of Benin I have seen, church today was unlike anything I have ever experienced. The congregation at the Pentecostal church planted by Mercy Ships in their 2001 outreach was small, only about sixty men, women, and children. They sat on rough wooden benches beneath a tin roof supported by tall branches. The sides of the building were palm thatched with a few bright orange silk flowers tucked in and the front was a cinder block wall where Assaga lizards, colored vibrant orange and blue, moved with the music like African children.

I love the way that the African people come to church. They are dressed in their best clothing, families wearing outfits cut from the same bright patterns. It is color, clean and fitted to their bodies, but it is also respect for a mighty god, that his people would worship him looking their best. The women are as loud as the patterns they wear. They dance to the music, singing stronger than microphones, their babies tied to their backs and bouncing as they celebrate the Lord. The men are passionate though less obvious in their praise, but they are singing, closing their eyes, and playing the drums that are the center of the music. The children all sit together, some happily joining in the worship, the older ones supporting the smallest kids still too little to know the words. Some dance up front with the women, smiling as they march in a circle. Others just stare ahead, wondering what this is all about. But I am most impressed by the girls, maybe ten years old, singing to God with their little brothers or sisters slung over their hips. I think they must know a lot about life.

The message this morning was simple and powerful. Delivered in three languages, I think it means the same thing to all of us. Matthew 26:39-42--Lord, let your will, but not mine, be done. At first, when the pastor announced that God has a plan for prosperity for all of us, I wondered, what is prosperity in Africa? I know what prosperity means in the West: a healthy family, a certain standard of living, material wealth, good friends, a successful career, happiness...but how do these standards compare to African ideas of prosperity? When the pastor asks his people, "Do you know that the glory of God is upon you?," what do the people of Benin envision? And then I realized that at its heart, prosperity is a deeper relationship with God. It comes from following after Him even when we cannot understand why, even in suffering. Maybe that is why I expected Africans to have a different sense of prosperity than me, because I believe that they have suffered so much more than I have. The pastor said to us, "You are crying deep down inside of yourself, but I am telling you that one day this will end." I think this promise is so great, but how much greater must it seem to the people of Benin?

When it came time for the offering, the music started up loud and joyful. The song only had four words: Our God is good. And every single member of the church danced up front and dropped something in the offering box. I am still shocked by the joy in giving. Though these people have so little, they are still happy to give away. I am ashamed of my own reluctance when I see this. I will try hard never to forget the way that African people share.

At the end of the service, the pastor asked our group to speak and pray for the church. The lady who spoke for us was amazing. She had this way of making us all equal, all God's children, all family. I have never felt so welcomed by a congregation as they smiled, amened, and praised God that we could be there with them.

So, there are lessons here, of hospitality, of humility, of generosity. A different culture, the same God. A different life style, but the same gratitude. I am an ocean away from home and I feel like I am seeing God's face from a new angle, in a different light.