Close your eyes…you might just think you
are in Cambridge or Westminster or King’s College…but no, wait! The words are
not English, but Xhosa. Open your eyes and you are looking at roughly 5000
people crammed into a tent. I think to myself: “My great-grandfather did not
build churches. These people. They are his legacy.” According to the SPG in
London, Arthur was here to train indigenous missionaries…indigenous…that’s what
this church is now. While it is a perfectly sound Anglican service, it is all
done in isiXhosa…the Prayer Book, the Scripture readings, the Hymns, the
service music…and all are indigenous people. Just the way Arthur would have
wanted it to be.

We were told to be at the church at 8:30
AM, but by the time we got there crowds were already singing lustily in the
tent…cars parked everywhere…and wave after wave of procession marching up the
street from Ebenezer to the tent. I was there just in time for the very last
one…with all the Canons, Archdeacons, the Provost and the Vicar General. Eish!
Whatever happened to Africa time? 

I walked alongside the Chancellor of the
Diocese…a good man to know! He and I chatted about the LEAD program and he is
sold. One more on our side! Thank You Jesus! The tent was actually overflowing
when we processed in and more people kept arriving throughout the service. As
guess I managed to get a seat on the stage because I was with this final
procession…it helps being late sometimes!

The service was amazingly organized. The
choir was magnificent. As I said to one of the Archdeacons, today even the
angels were silent. I hope I can buy one of their CD’s as I would love to hear
these spectacular voices again. As neither Louise nor I speak or understand
Xhosa, we were at somewhat of a disadvantage, but one of the great things about
the Prayer Book is that even though it is in a different language, one can
figure out what is going on from time to time.

These chaps do like their incense, though!
The acolytes were so well trained and to watch them…their serious little faces…was
a treat. The Eucharist is probably the largest I have ever attended with
Chalices and Patens galore…the Vicar General kindly asked me to serve the bread
– I loved every moment of it. Every man bows and every women curtseys as they
receive the elements in upraised palms…precious brothers and sisters.

As this is a “Family Day” celebration
service and everyone from the Diocese is present, there were reports to be given
and gifts to be received. From the entrance of the church came the loud sound
of dancing and singing as a group of enthusiastic young folk dragged in two
sheep…a ram and ewe. As we did not understand what was being said or sung, we
wondered…independently as we were not seated together…what was going down. Was
this some OT scapegoat type ritual? The sheep were shoved onto the stage and
made to sit at the feet of the Vicar General. My curiosity took over and I
asked the Archdeacon next to me what was going on. He told me they were gifts
from the Diocese to the Vicar General as a token of their appreciation. He was
told that this was the start of a flock for him and his family…not to eat, but
to multiply. They gave him an envelope with money for food…just to make sure.
Sweet.

Then came my turn to address the crowd. I
had prayed fervently that the Lord would give me the right words. Of course, at
gatherings like these, there are many to address prior to saying anything…the
Vicar General, the Provost, the Canon, the Archdeacons…and so on. But when I
spoke, I told them what a blessing it was for us to be here on their family day
as I am part of their family in a sense. I then told them about Arthur being
the first principal of St John’s College…at this point people applauded and
cheered. I had wondered how they would react, but it was very positive indeed.
I told them all about GtC and the LEAD program and that I would be meeting with
their Vicar General to discuss dates, times, and venues. The expectation is
palpable…they want this training.

It was all over too soon…then there was
lunch. Lunch? No, a feast worthy of the word celebration. Chicken, beef, lamb,
rice, samp, butternut squash, spinach, salad, and dessert…these folks can eat!
When it was time to say goodbye, the Vicar General said he would see us before
nightfall…

I have been through several storms in my
life. To me the most exciting part of nature’s show of power is the
anticipation…what some have called the calm before the storm. That is what
today has felt like to me. While many around us have laboured long and hard for
the “Family Celebration” service that will take place tomorrow, we have been
spectators…watching…waiting…wondering…

We had heard last evening that we were in
the wrong accommodation. The Diocesan Secretary had made provision for us in
the Diocesan Guest House, but he had told no one prior to his leaving for East
London. Once he returned, we had to move.

On the way over, we first fetched Bulie and
took her with us. She was going to serve as our guide and principal
“introducer”…a job she did very well, I must say. On the way we stopped to see
the Cathedral Church of Mthatha, thinking that Arthur might have served there,
but it was only built in 1901 and the Lomaxes lived in Steynsburg at that time.
We then went on to our new temporary home…

For us, this was a very good move as we are now close to the Vicar General’s and the Provost’s homes and…get this…we are a short walk from the first church built in Mthatha as well as the first school. While there is still no obvious clue to Arthur’s presence here…no plaques bearing his name or anything like that, St John’s church and St John’s College stand as a testimony to his dedication to seeing local missionaries raised up to serve their own people. Rather progressive for his time.

Bulie introduced us to the Diocesan
Secretary at the Guest House and we chatted about the LEAD program. Everyone is
hungry for teaching on disciple making…and he is no different. Lord, please,
lead on! Bulie served at Ugie at St. Barnabas…a gorgeous, well-maintained
church. Then she was posted to where she is now. It is not exactly a rural area
as it borders on Mthatha, but it is a far cry from the picturesque place she
was before!

She told us a story of when the great storm
of early this year raged through Mthatha. That day, many churches in the area
lost their roofs…but Bulie stood her ground in the church building praying: “Oh
God! Your people here have nothing…spare them the expense of having to rebuild
this church!” And the Lord hearkened to her prayer…in spite of the fact that
the church is poorly built and rickety at best, it is still there as testimony
of God’s grace and mercy.

After we had moved our belongings into the
Guest House, we went to check out the place were the celebration is to be held.
A super tent on a hillside, strategically chosen to send the shockwaves of the
Gospel sung and preached into the valley and up the hill beyond. The topography
serves as a natural amphitheatre.

The area is a hive of activity…the women of
the church have been slaughtering chickens…23 per parish, so well over a
100…but these are no regular chickens! They are huge…Louise estimates each one
weighs about 6 pounds! 

Huge black, three-legged pots dot the Ebenezer church
grounds and everywhere women, gathered in huddles, sat peeling potatoes and
carrots, while other were chopping away at what would go into the pots with the
chickens. It will be a feast, believe me! 

While there, we met with a Canon and
several Archdeacons. One of the Archdeacons took us to the tent where we prayed
for the service tomorrow. I plead the blood of Jesus wherever I go…the blood
that speaks better things than that of Abel…the blood of reconciliation that
alone can wipe away the ancestral call for vengeance…that alone can bring
reconciliation and peace between God and Man and Man and Man. We asked the Holy
Spirit to begin His work now already, preparing each soul who will hear the
messages tomorrow, including those who will bring them.

We…as I said before…are all anticipation.
The calm before the storm.

The rest of the day has been fairly quiet.
Louise has caught up on laundry. We walked about the grounds…visited St John’s
Church and looked at the land where Arthur must have taught. There are new
buildings now, as the original buildings were no doubt mud brick buildings, but
a plaque at the entrance confirmed that this was the College started in 1879…strangely
the same year Arthur was sent on to take over the school and church in
Southwell. My only guess is that he served as a pioneer and once his job was
done, he moved on to the next. The SPG Office in London said that he was the
first headmaster here, but that he trained local missionaries, not children. So
did he raise up local teachers and leadership to do the work of the ministry? Were
Arthur and Mary Ellen trainers of disciple-makers…like us?