Sunday, September 20

Jinja

This weekend, the IMME students left Friday night on the coaster to Jinja, a town northeast of here, a little over an hour away. We got to drive through a forest which looked a lot like the east coast, and some rolling plains that reminded me of PA. We stayed at a resort at the source of the Nile River, right near the only railroad tracks in Uganda. I was the only guy who got my own room and bed, which means that this is the first time that being at the end of alphabetical order has paid off.

the first night we had delicious food (and Heinz Ketchup!) while three Uganda missionaries from the west coast Calvary Chapel church spoke to us. They are involved with prison ministry which was great to hear about. They said some great things, but if you know anything about Calvary Chapel, you know that they are always taking up the infallibility of the Bible battle - and if you know anything about today's postmodern college students (what these missionaries even call "post-Christian"), you know that we use a healthy does of skepticism when approaching the scriptures. Anyway, it's always good to hear different views, but the missionaries definitely said not to eat meat sacrificed to other gods, that Africans "worship" their ancestors (which are apparently actually demons), etc. I found it kind of offensive after reading the Primal Vision by John V. Taylor, who views African Traditional Religions as a friend to mission work. It wasn't all bad, though. They were very nice also.

Saturday we went into town to meet with Ben, a guy who taught us about our cultural differences. It was a good talk. His church also operates a nonprofit internet cafe. I got to eat a brownie sundae and it was the most delicious thing I've ever had. Seriously. He then took us on a "devotional tour" of Jinja, during which we looked over Lake Victoria/the source of the Nile River, saw a Hindu Temple area of town, went through "ting-ting", and visited the biggest local medical facility.

During the Nile section, Ben quoted Bonhoeffer, whom I am currently reading, saying, "When Christ calls us, He bids us to come and die." This is awesome because, yes, with belief there must be obedience, and with obedience, one must welcome suffering. This is the true mark of the church. And guess what? The American church knows no suffering in the eyes of this world, and dare I say, even in the eyes of God.

In the Hindu neighborhood, Ben explained that Christianity has close ties to economics. The Indians which lived in this section of town decades ago had great wealth, until the president at the time kicked them out of the country in poverty. The houses are so big and elaborate. It was the "Beverly Hills" of Uganda. The Indians had all possessions confiscated. Another cool thing is that there was a statue of Ghandi at this place. I'm a fan. But anyway, ben also said that his church has only ever taught two things about money - don't be greedy (which is completely relative), and give ten percent. I wonder why, if these are the only things Christians should relate to about money, Jesus would ask the rich man to sell everything and give to the poor? I wonder why the early church actually did this also? I wonder why the impoverished of this earth know what joy is, and why Americans are statistically extremely discontent?

Ben and his coworkers call one neighborhood "Ting-Ting" or "the Detroit of Jinja." A gate opened and our group walked through a metalworking slum. For a dollar a day (and that is a great job), young men slave away over fires in the heat of the Equator, pounding metal and screwing screws all day. It was a cool atmosphere though. Nobody seemed to hate it. There was a lot of hope in making something out of nothing (which is why I think there is still hope for today's musician). What they were working with was once garbage.

Finally, we went to the hospital. I walked with Brian, because he's going to be a Physician's Assistant and I wanted to experience his reactions. We went to the wards containing the people who had TB. Especially if these people had HIV/AIDS, they were probably days away from death. They are given free beds, and the family member(s) bring a mat to lay beside them and care for them. It typically takes three weeks to see a legitimate doctor, but the family members can purchase medicine for the patient, who indeed must be "patient." I remember walking down one hall of death beds, looking but trying not to look, smiling, then taking back the smile because I didn't know how I should come off as a mzungu visitor. I got to the end of the hall, felt awkward, and just went back. No one spoke to me. Talk about not knowing what to do. Thank God in the next hall one man greeted Brian, thanking him for our visit. His son was laying quietly and lifelessly with TB and Malaria. Later I heard that one patient used her strength to get out of bed to shake one of the girls' hands in our group. She even knelt before her. That would be pretty humbling. It all just goes to show that people appreciate the outside visitors. The mzungus. But still, even in the world of the post-Enlightenment science-filled west, we have not found the cure for death. Death is just as common in our hospitals. The missionary, says Ben, comes into the mission field happy and ready to change earth, but after one year, they either leave or get super cynical. Rightfully so. Like Babel, we have no cure for our brokenness, yet we seek exactly this on our own strength.

When we got back to the resort, we took a boat ride on the Nile and even caught a fish. We swam and chilled. We ate pizza and cake and chicken burgers and fries at a restaurant that night. Such a relief!

This morning was shared with a local church. The music was awesome. The kids and congregation were so pumped for God. There is no halfhearted worship here. Even communal prayer is powerful. Corporate communication with God is intense fellowship. We stopped at a restaurant in town, and now we are back in Mukono. I'm about to walk home to spend the rest of this Sabbath with the family!

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