When the Heart Breaking is Yours…
Friday, November 30th, 2007So much to say. So few words to adequately convey. And so much yet to come. Please allow me simply to describe.
I arrived at the church headquarters about 11, passing through a good portion of Khartoum to get there, in a typical little Sudanese rental van. I walk in through the little gate, over the dirt paths, and enter a plastered room with around 100 chairs set up. At the front is a rough wooden pulpit with a red cross hewn in the front, and our team heads towards it, taking the seats in the front.
One by one the pastors enter, resplendent with handshakes and smiles, many asking with excited, broken English how our trip to Kadugli went. They take their places, standing for the opening prayer, in which my limited Arabic only recognizes one word - “Shukron,” or “thank you.” After the prayer of thanksgiving, they join together in praise that easily transcends all language barriers; the Spirit of the Lord is present.
A frail, white haired elder named Samuel rises to his feet and totters to the front, starting with a Scripture: “He that sows with tears,” our translator tells us, “will reap with rejoice.” With that introduction, Pastor Samuel shares the history of the Sudanese Church of Christ, the Baptist movement in Sudan that began in 1904. He tells the story with a clarity and detail borne out of the simple fact that he was there. No, not back in 1904, though he looks old enough to have been alive then, but as the church blossomed and grew he was there. He was the one who turned himself in, going to the police, sacrificing his own freedom to advance Christ’s cause–and he was the one miraculously saved by the power of God.
An hour and a half later, he has not lost his audience. They still hang on each word, but our time is drawing to a close, but much is yet to be done. Our team has not come empty-handed; far from it. Bicycles are brought in, a gift to their pastors to allow easier transportation. And then I am allowed to stand and give a short introduction to the gift I have brought from the churches in the United States. It’s a small gift, an envelope with a $10 bill for each pastor, not much money perhaps, but hopefully an encouragement and a way to alleviate the expenses they have incurred to come to Khartoum.
But before I can give it out, another elder, a grey-haired man of wisdom rises and shuffles on deformed ankles to the front. “I do not want to take time,” he says, “but I feel led of the Holy Spirit to share. In my old age, when I look at my church, I think of it as an orphan, a child that is left without father or mother. It cannot think, it cannot live by itself…”
His words trail off into a flood of tears.
“In short,” the translator takes over, “He wants to express his thanks for your cooperation with us as a ministry. He was especially touched by Brother Gabe’s news that the church in the United States is praying for the church in Sudan.”
And the gift I hold seems completely inconsequential compared to that gift, the gift of prayer.
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We had to leave the service quickly, due to fear of an impending riot over the teddy bear incident. We have been completely unaffected by the riots that did take place in downtown Khartoum; please pray that this safety continues.
I was asked to share a short background on Sudan for a homeschool speech club meeting, which I was delighted to do. The file was too big to e-mail, though, so I post it here. Enjoy!
