We saw the Indian Ocean today. We are near it tonight as I write in a town
on the southeastern coast of the island.
We didn’t get to put our feet in the ocean, but I have put in my request
to do so.
Today I saw more white people than I have the entire
trip. About ten of them, not counting
the two of us. We stayed at a lodge in
another rain forest last night. The
lodge belongs to a member of one of the Presbyterian churches nearby. Think: deal.
The pastor of that church joined us from dinner. We saw a few white people in the
restaurant. They were eco-tourists
visiting the rain forest. A few more
were in the restaurant this morning and a few more were on bicycles touring and
perhaps one or two living there. We’ve
heard of Peace Corps workers, missionaries, and tourists.
The trip to the south started out like an extreme sport of
racing through curves. Oddly enough, the
locals got nauseous. Kelly and I were
fine. I passed out Pepto-Bismal tablets
and we got back on the road, albeit a little slower around curves for a
while.
The trip was long. Again.
More sitting.
About 4 pm, we pulled into our destination of a town called
Vangaindrano. The pastor of this town is
a fairly recent seminary graduate and is serving as required in a remote
area. This pastor, Pastor Jonah, however,
is inspired and organized. He has
planted five new churches and has 14 total worshipping communities meeting in
homes in villages throughout the area.
Unlike Dunedin and much of America where there is a church on every
corner, this is like the pioneer days of America: church planting means putting
a church where none exists for miles.
This pastor will go into a village, talk with the senior political
leaders, explain his desire to make Jesus known through a community of people
in that village, and leader after leader in village after village immediately
offers land to build the church for free.
And so Pastor Jonah and the church here plant churches. All of that church planting has caught the
attention of the dean of students and professor of mission of the seminary, Dr.
Laurent Ramambason. So here we are,
encouraging this church.
When we arrived, a group of about 30 people from the church
met us in the church. We had a worship service that included the
pastor, me, and Kelly King speaking. That is Pastor Jonah speaking in the photo above. During that visit, I explained that we were bringing a word of
encouragement for the good work they were doing in Christ’s name. We were also bringing a portion of the global
mission funds that were raised during the Walk-a-Thon earlier this year. They were, in fact, encouraged that someone
would sacrifice what was by then 45 hours of traveling on three airplanes, and
one long Land Rover ride to encourage them in an area even the average Malagasy
considers out in the sticks.
One of the members has a few bungalows where Kelly and I are
staying tonight. We had about 45 minutes to take a break and then it was
dinnertime with the church leaders.
Dinner was Chinese noodle soup, rice, chicken, and fish. The pastor stood and gave a welcome speech
and introduced his leaders. At the end,
I stood and expressed our gratitude for their generosity. A meal like the one they prepared was a feast
and in a region where many go hungry we were indeed grateful for their
sacrifice of love for us.
The highlight of this southern trip and the whole trip thus
far came after dinner. It was an
inspired speech by one of the leaders. The
church has deacons doing what we call the work of elders at St. Andrews. Their work is actually a cross between our
elders and deacons. Once a deacon
retires from work at retirement age, only then do they become an “elder.” One of the elders gave the speech. He wanted to tell us the history of
Christianity in Madagascar. He told us
that missionaries brought the gospel of Jesus Christ to the island 200 years
ago. At the time, it was dangerous to
convert to Christianity. The traditional
religion leaders would kill those who converted. He reminded me that much of what we take for
granted – the freedom to worship Jesus openly – was bought with the blood of
the martyrs who went before us. With arms
flailing and strong voice, he told the stories of the first martyrs for Christ
in Madagascar. He was the senior statesman
in the church in Vangaindrano. It was
his privilege to share the legacy that came before them. The first person who converted to
Christianity was a woman. She was stabbed
to death because of it. Others, he said,
were stoned. Still others were thrown
off of cliffs. One woman converted to
Christianity while she was late in pregnancy.
They burned her on a stake and while she was burning she gave birth to
the child who also burned to death in the fire. With rising passion, he thundered his message
for us, “Tell the people back in America that there are Christians on this
island! It cost people everything to
bring Christ here. Tell them that there
are brothers and sisters who love Jesus here!”
I can’t think of anything I’d rather tell you. Jesus Christ is worshipped and loved
here. In the middle of great poverty,
pre-modern living conditions, and the devastating financial after effects of a
coup government, their faith is strong.
Take heart! You may be facing
difficulties in your life as you read this, but God is not absent from this
world or your difficulties. He shows up
in the middle of difficulties and has elder statesmen on the other side of the
planet remind us that worshipping Jesus is the shared and great privilege of
our lives. Enjoy it. Be encouraged in your life. And see hope in the future.
It’s late and once again, the wake up call will leave us
with inadequate amount of sleep. At
least for me who wants to journal thoughts of the day. The guests of the bungalows are quieting down
all around me, although the geese that are somewhere close are chatting eagerly
to each other.
The weather here on the coast is comfortable. Some would say hot, but I still had on long
sleeves and didn’t regret it. You know
me.
All is well.
I am thinking of you.
3 comments:
I can tell the trip is taxing with all of the travel and the late nights and early mornings. Praying for stamina! What a story about the beginnings of the church in Madagascar. It stirs me, but I can't put words to it yet.
Tooooooooo good, pastor - thank you.
Very moving story, John. Thanks for sharing. Stay well. Get some rest.
Carol
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