I am the first to tell my students that testimonies are powerful; by hearing about what God has done, we are encouraged our faith is built up. Yet for some reason, I struggle with whether the same can be said of my own testimony.
This is the semester in which the chaplaincy focuses on mission, and the theme is “ordinary people for God’s mission.” I was asked to preach last Sunday on Matthew 10:5-15, with the topic, “will you go?” Amos told me that I was to give my testimony of how I came to be a missionary, something I’ve done before.
For some reason, I really struggled with this sermon. Part of that is length; it’s hard for me to preach for more than 20 minutes, and to an African, that’s just getting warmed up. But I think another part is that although I knew my testimony was the meat of the sermon, I was concerned it wasn’t enough. Like I should have been teaching more, or have something else to say other than what God has done to get me to Uganda.
Much to my surprise, several people shared with me after the services that they were in a similar place of wrestling with God and what He’a calling them to, and that my testimony encouraged them.
Today is International Women’s Day, and as it happens, it is also the time for intramural football (soccer), in which the various faculties play each other.
Someone remembered and announced in chapel that I have “ever supported” the theology football team with water and glucose, so my patronage of the football team continues.
Sadly, we lost last week, so I made a point of telling my students that what I wanted as a gift for Women’s Day was a win. I told them several times, so they would know that I was serious.
They did not disappoint.
Now I have to think of an incentive for Saturday’s match!
We are continuing our discussion on the Articles of Religion (or “the Thirty-Nine Articles) in our discipleship group, and last week, we discussed Article 17, Predestination, which was predictably (no pun intended!) exciting.
After the discussion, as we are wont to do, we went down some bunny trails, and somehow ended up discussing a prayer that apparently some priests pray when someone is accepting Christ, that the person’s name is removed from the book of death and written in the book of life. I’ve never heard of this, and it launched a bit of a firestorm discussion.
I asked where this “book of death” is recorded in Scripture, and of course my student didn’t know where (because it’s not there). I pointed out that there’s only the book of life, and then we went to Revelation 20:11-15, and discussed the difference between ‘the books’ that hold the record of our lives and ‘the book of life,’ which records the names of those who are saved. More discussion ensued.
Then another student jumped in, and said, “Listen to that passage in Luganda; it brings it out clearly for me.” And she pulled out her phone (yes, there’s an app for that!), and read the passage in Luganda.
Students preach in chapel twice a week, and to help them refine their sermon preparation skills, we read their sermons and give feedback prior to delivery. Last week, a student brought me her sermon, and it was in rough shape. I confess I was a little less than gracious with her; she had waffled on whether she would be the one to deliver the sermon, so my patience was already a bit thin by the time she brought the text. So we talked, and she went to make corrections.
She brought her revised sermon, and it seemed as though she neglected to do a proper exegesis on the text. Since I taught her that course unit, I have to confess that I was more than a little annoyed. So we talked about the passage, what was happening, and how it applies to us today.
When she came into the vestry Sunday evening, she greeted me with a warm smile and said, “Reverend, today someone gave me some avocados. Would you like some?” What a gift. I had been hard on her, and she responded by offering me some of what was given to her. Then in her sermon, she said that I had helped to open her eyes and broaden her thinking about what the passage means.
Each Thursday and Sunday evening we have a Holy Communion service. Students know that I’m very serious about keeping time, and they have much improved upon not entering during prayers or Scripture readings. I’m very proud of them.
I don’t know whether this is an African thing, or a low church thing, but our students rarely enter the chapel many minutes before the service, if at all. It’s become something of a joke that the Archdeacon (me) comes to invite them to enter the chapel when really, I fail to understand why I have to urge clergy and ordinands to come to church.
In their defense, at 5:00pm the heat is decreasing, and since they are all required to attend, the time before the service is a good time to fellowship.
So Thursday, the students were scattered on the lawn outside the chapel as the team was beginning to process. I took this photo just for fun, not to shame them, yet they got the point and entered the chapel. A picture truly is worth more than a thousand words (of correction)!
