On the one hand, it’s hard to believe that it has already been a month since I landed in Kigali.  On the other hand, I feel like I’ve been here much longer than that.  I’ve truly started to feel at home, and for that I’m thankful.

Part of that feeling has come from entering into the community of Christ at St. Etienne, the Anglican cathedral here in Kigali.  In addition to worshipping with them on Sundays at their English-language service (which is attended by a large number of expatriates), last night I joined a weekly men’s fellowship that is attended mostly by Rwandans.  In addition to being a time for me to meet Rwandans, it was a wonderful time of prayer, sharing from the word and singing hymns. 

One of the great privileges of being part of a community is marking the rhythms of life together.  This past Sunday, we took time in the service to note two important events in the life of the community.  First, Sam Mgisha (one of the pastors at the cathedral) and his wife Jackie together presented their newborn daughter to the congregation and received the blessing of the church on their daughter’s life.  We rejoiced with them at the blessing of new life.

We also celebrated the blessing of life eternal while mourning the passing of a beautiful 8-year-old girl who had been killed in a car accident.  The parents were not in church with us Sunday, but last night the men’s fellowship met at the family’s house.  The father was detained in a meeting and was not able not be there, but the mother was a gracious hostess, and many members of her family were there as well. 

I wrote before that I had heard about the reserved nature of most Rwandans when it comes to expressions of emotion.  But this woman’s composure was, frankly, stunning.  She was a rock.  And it’s not like her daughter’s death was the elephant in the room that no one talked about.  People offered their condolences, we prayed for her family’s comfort, and Pastor Sam shared his thoughts from the passage in John 14 where Jesus speaks about going to prepare a place for all of us.  The mother herself requested that we sing “It Is Well With My Soul.”  At the end of our two hours we prepared to leave, but the mother said, “No.  Please stay.  It has been your prayers and the company of friends that has helped us through this time.” 

For the next 30 minutes, she spoke about her experiences from the past 10 days.  She told us about learning of her daughter’s death.  She told us about the pain of leaving her daughter in the graveyard.  She told us about combing her daughter’s hair in the mortuary at King Faysal Hospital.  And you’ll simply have to take my word that she didn’t shed a single tear.

An experience like this, whether in Rwanda or any other part of the world, can produce varied reactions in an observer from outside the culture.  The most reprehensible reaction is one that I’ve heard too often, even from fellow Christians: that “they” don’t value human life the way “we” do.  This is, of course, insidious nonsense.  One glance at the faces around the room was enough to convince anyone that everyone present knew and understood her anguish.  It is a cliché to say the people express grief in different ways, but it is no less true for being a cliché.  Some people weep.  Others share their grief verbally—openly and in great detail—but without tears. 

For myself, I hope I learned something—something about Rwandan culture and something about my own.  I do not exaggerate when I say that I have never seen a community turn out in such support for a grieving member.  Nor do I exaggerate when I say that I have never seen anyone so ready and willing to lean on that support.  And I do not exaggerate when I say that I have never witnessed anyone take comfort and strength from the hope of the resurrection the way this woman did. 

But more than a cultural tidbit, I think I’ve learned something profound—something I can’t quite articulate yet—about grieving in a community of faith, about sorrow, about joy and about hope.  We talk a lot about what we can learn from our partnership with the Rwandan church.  I hope that’s something we take seriously because I genuinely believe there is much to learn.   

Jay Greener and Jason Miller have graciously allowed me space on their blog to keep in touch with the people at Church of the Redeemer.  I’ll use this forum to post my experiences in Rwanda, especially those having to do with the Church here. 

Kigali.  First, a bit about the city:  I think the most remarkable thing about my new home is how clean it is.  Many say it is the cleanest city in Africa.  I was also surprised by the amount of ongoing development.  There are new buildings (including luxury houses) and sidewalks being built all over the place.   It is also very green, meaning “very vegetated,” not “very environmentally friendly.”  Most houses have a well-maintained garden, and there are quite a few trees around the city. 

Even as I’ve been hearing about the changing of the seasons in the US, there is a change of seasons underway here in Rwanda—from the dry season to the rainy season.  Though it was hot and humid when I arrived, during the past week, we’ve experienced a moderate downpour nearly every day, making the air cool and noticeably drier.  This is a welcome relief to those who have been here longer than I and especially to those people here who rely on agriculture for their livings (approximately 90% of Rwanda’s population) as the rains have been rather late this year.  The already green city is becoming seems now, I’m told that it becomes positively lush during the rainy season.

On the downside, Kigali is very spread out, making getting around for a pedestrian like me rather difficult.  The bare-bones public transportation system consists of “mutatus”—minivans that run fixed routes, in which Rwandans cozily sit four across.  (Many Rwandans have stared somewhat incredulously at the large, bearded mzungu as he attempts to fold himself into a space meant for people half his size.)  The main alternative is the small-engine motorcycle taxi.  The passenger gets to sit on the back.  The first time I did this, I was concerned about being thrown off the back if the driver accelerated quickly.  Then I realized that the engines haven’t got nearly enough power to cause this to happen.  It’s really not as dangerous as it sounds—traffic in Kigali is pretty reasonable, especially compared to other African cities.

Yesterday, I went to Kigali Genocide Memorial in Gisozi.  The museum is remarkably well done, incorporating both general facts and personal testimony, and appropriately sobering.  Outside the museum itself are mass graves where, according my guide book, over a quarter million victims are buried.  I hesitate to say more about what I saw, both for the benefit of those who may someday come to see this for themselves and because I might oversimplify the experience in an attempt to explain it to the wide range of people receiving this email.  But I am happy to discuss it further with you on an individual basis.

Umuganda, a part of Rwandan culture I didn’t know about, occurs on the morning of the fourth Saturday of every month in Rwanda.  On this morning, Rwandans are required by law to participate in community service in their neighborhood under the supervision of a local community leader.  They clean streets, tidy public spaces, tend to public greenery, etc.  This is an effort by the government to promote harmony, cooperation, community pride and mutual understanding among Rwandans in the wake of the genocide.  The cynical voice in my head also notes that it’s a convenient way for the government to get free labor.  Perhaps I am being too harsh, imposing personal values from my Chicago home, where government officials pay vast sums to their friends to have this type of work done. 

Work.  I’ve got my very own desk at work in a small house that serves as the IJM Rwanda office.  In addition to me, there are 5 other expats, with one more legal fellow to come in October, and 14 Rwandans in the office, which includes 4 Rwandan lawyers.  Our lawyers have great advocacy and informal dispute resolution skills, and given the somewhat informal manner in which justice is administered here, those are the most important skills for a lawyer to have.  However, they lack some other skills in which western lawyers typically excel, such as interviewing, research and writing.  And they don’t have much more than a passing familiarity with the actual text of the law.  So part of my role is going to be lawyer training and education in order to give our lawyers an additional edge when representing our clients. 

It’s an exciting time to be working on land rights issues in Rwanda because the government has recently begun an ambitious program to identify, demarcate and register all parcels of land in Rwanda.  IJM has been assisting the government in this process, and part of my role will be to work on this program and to help IJM evaluate the extent to which they want to be involved in the government’s next steps, understanding that while this sort of work might advance justice, it is a departure from IJM’s traditional focus on casework.  In addition, I’ll be working to generate materials aimed at educating local officials and citizens about the land registration process, ways to transfer land and land rights generally.  And if any of this sounds more lofty or glorious than it actually is, you should know that I’ll also be spending some time helping the office comply with its rather enormous burden of generating periodic reports for the government and IJM headquarters.

Church.  Last Sunday, I went to church at St. Stephen’s Cathedral here in Kigali, which is Archbishop Kolini’s see and better known by its French name, St. Etienne.  I was able to greet two of the pastors on behalf of Church of the Redeemer.  I was not able to speak to them at length, as our service had run long (2½ hours) and they needed to begin the second service.

While church does run a bit longer in Africa that we might be accustomed to, there were reasons for the length of this particular service.  First, we celebrated the Eucharist, which is a once-a-month event here.  Secondly, we spent time praying for and sending off one of the local leaders.  Manasseh is a young man who has been active in the youth ministry, leading worship and starting a choir in the cathedral and left this week for the UK, where he will study for full-time (probably non-ordained) ministry.  What struck me most was how much his sending resembled what we do in our own congregation. 

I was also reminded of home when it was announced that later that afternoon there would be a screening of the film, As We Forgive.  Many of you saw this film when Church of the Redeemer hosted a screening in Wilmette.  In the intervening year, this film has been shown to over 20,000 Rwandans across the country, and the filmmakers have produced a 20-minute epilogue that primarily addresses the reconciliation that John and Chantal experienced that had not yet occurred when the original film was finalized.  Unfortunately, the screening was poorly attended since most people were at Manasseh’s farewell party, but I did learn that the filmmakers are in the process of trying to obtain another grant in order to continue their work of showing the film to Rwandans and leading post-film reconciliation discussions.

Rwandans.  It would be grossly unfair for me to offer any sort of characterization of the Rwandan people; conclusions based on only a week’s observations could only be the worst sort of generalizations.  But I think it would be fair to repeat a generalization that I’ve heard from several Rwandans—Rwandans are reserved people, showing little emotion and making the stereotypical Brit seem to have a very soft and floppy upper lip by comparison. 

It wasn’t long before I saw an example of this.  After my trip to the genocide memorial, an IJM driver picked me up to give me a ride back to the office.  One of my Rwandan colleagues was also in the car and asked me what I thought of the memorial.   After I had offered a brief response, she looked at me and said, matter-of-factly, “Sixteen of my family are in there,” referring to the mass graves adjacent to the memorial.  I sat in stunned silence, finding it much more difficult to wrap my head around one person’s grief than the entire genocide display.  But after a minute of this silence, my colleague was cracking jokes, and we were all smiling and laughing.

Without a doubt, some extraordinary healing and reconciliation has occurred in this country.  However, my limited sense (based on only a week of living here) is that a great deal of pain still lingers beneath the surface, somewhat obscured by smiles, Umuganda, laughter and lush greenery.  It is this subsurface reality that I hope to get to know a little better while I’m here.

I’ll let you know what I learn.

Well, we’re now back in the central time zone, having arrived Sunday about 24 hours later than originally planned.  Not bad, considering all the potential mis-connections in two weeks away.  We did a quick inventory and realized we had each slept in 7 different beds in two weeks…for Mark it was 8.  So if we;re feeling a little tired and the bones ache a little its not surprising.

But I’m particularly energized by the trip and by what we experienced.  Our plan is to share this more fully on Sunday morning July the 5th @ 10am.  So if you have been following this blog and would like to know more, please come and worship with us then, even if you are not usually a part of Redeemer Church.

There may be further posts to this site.  One thing I really need to write about is the experience of visiting the genocide sites.  I guess I’m just not ready yet, but I trust that I will offer that in time.

Thanks again for your support for this trip, in well-wishing, in prayer and through financial support.  In the mean time, the story of one church in two cultures, of our relationship with St. Michael’s and Sonrise School, continues…..

Peace be with you.  Murabeho.

Jay+

We remain in London at a hotel near Heathrow after our United flight was cancelled due to mechanical failure. Apparently, the airplane was flown back to Chicago empty for repairs. When I found someone in the airport to ask about the situation, I asked her what our options were. She replied, “You have no options.” Then she proceeded to explain that United would arrange our stay and book us on other flights as they became available. It is a reminder that we are not in control, even if we sometimes think we are.

United has accommodated all of its passengers, including Trinity’s D.A. Carson, at a nearby hotel. He was speaking at a ministry conference in London which I was able to attend one of the days I was here. We were able to greet him in the hotel this evening before dinner. We will miss worshiping at Redeemer tomorrow, and we’re quite disappointed that we’re not home already. United is booking us on other flights for return to Chicago as soon as possible. It looks as though we will be home Sunday evening after flying through Canada.

We are grateful for your prayers and for encouraging our families while we are gone. We look forward to seeing you all and giving a firsthand report of what we have learned as opportunities for conversation and sharing unfold. We long to be with you in person and hope God will allow it very soon. In the meantime, encourage one another in the love of Christ, and pray for our encouragement as well.

Students leave St. Michael's chapel after worship

What does it mean to partner with a church on the other side of the globe? Are we bold enough and humble enough to think such a thing possible? It’s this quest and all of the surrounding issues that brought us to Rwanda this summer, having been asked to enter a ‘sister’ church relationship with St. Michael’s, Musanze.

Information was not easy to get. We weren’t sure who to talk with, what was happening in that church and if they even desired such a partnership. I see now that these questions were meant to be answered, or at least encountered, face to face. The theme of ‘dance’ keeps coming up again and again, and you don’t dance from a distance.

I’m learning that there are many facets to St. Michaels, because it’s not really one church, but a space. I think it refers more to the building and the spiritual activity that goes on there. Formerly a magistrate court, the building overlooking Sonrise School was renovated as a chapel for the school. Where once people had judgment pronounced over them worshipers now hear the Good News; where they were sent into prison they are now released into hope. It’s a wonderful picture. Redeemer Church is being asked to step into the hope that is being offered in that place and through those lives. Before traveling there it was impossible to know what that might look like, as hard as we tried.

For one thing, St. Michael’s means the spiritual life of Sonrise Primary School that worships there several times during the week. We were blessed to be a part of that service on Sunday morning, to preach there and to worship with the children. Several people from the community came to pray with the children during their service from 7:15am to 9. It’s a dynamic and awesome environment and we are being asked to join with that work.

But there is more, and this we only learned at the last minute. We had heard that the community people also worshiped at St. Michael’s, and I had assumed that this meant in conjunction with the Sonrise students. But the community church is a new group that is being planted there, and they worship after the Sonrise students leave. We only learned this on Saturday night as we kept asking questions and gently pursuing clarification.

Pastors Jay and Emile

St. Michaels’ is a preaching point in a parish of seven locations doing work in a very difficult area. In fact, Ruhengeri (the district name) is one of the hardest areas in Rwanda for evangelism, as it was once a stronghold for tribal religions. Many believed that the spirits of the dead went to the volcanoes, and that it was a place of evil and demons. The old Tutsi kings used to send people there as a form of exile. It is a hard place for new church work. And the people are poor. The pastor, Rev. Mugisha Emile, works tirelessly against many obstacles to reach people for Christ in seven different locations, one of them being the St. Michael’s site. He does this with no transportation and very little support, and his wife has been very ill. We met him only an hour before we were to leave Ruhengeri, so we’re grateful that we made that connection, and we have committed to praying for him and his people, communicating with him, and returning in a year to spend some time in his parish.

In some ways, things at St. Michael’s were as we expected them to be, in others, totally different. It shows me again why we must enter the dance face to face. We have a lot to learn.

One of the great things about visiting Rwanda is the music–particularly in worship.  There are six choirs at Sonrise School, and they each sing at each worship service  (three each for the Primary and High School).  This is one of the reasons the services run as long as they do, and it gives an opportunity for as much active participation as possible.  Giving a nation back its song after it had been extinguished in genocide is one of the true resurrection stories of this place.

Worship music includes songs written by students, hymns, as well as choruses from the West  (these tend to be the praise choruses based on scripture that churches in the US sang in the ’70’s, particularly in the pentecostal traditions–they are livelier and fit the style here).  They also represent the music brought by the missionaries.  Today you can hear almost anything on the radio in Rwanda, and the diocese would like to launch a Christian radio station.  While I have some thoughts on that, I also remember that it was through radio, more than any other mass appeal, that persuaded Rwandans to murder their neighbors in 1994.  It is yet one more arena to be renewed.

Pray for the choirs at Sonrise School, and for the songs in this place.

Click on the link below to hear a brief clip of a Sonrise Choir.  The song is written by a student, based on Beatitudes.

sonrisechoir

Click on photos for larger format

Cameraman Mark was always a big hit

We are spending a few days resting following the time in Rwanda before we head home. This is not just “down” time or a chance to have ‘fun” (although I hope that will happen), but we have been drinking from a fire-hose the last week, and while it has been tremendously refreshing we’re trying to get a sense of what we might have missed, as well as coming to grips with where we have been and what we have seen.

I think I could write a book on Sonrise School following our visit, or at least several sermons, but I want to put down just a few thoughts to help bring you into the frame. Following our 2 hour ride up the mountains into some breathtaking and wondrous landscapes, we arrived at Sonrise School. Of course, I was asked to preach immediately, but following the long journey they agreed to have me share a greeting with the primary school children who were gathered for their usual time of fellowship and worship in St. Michael’s Chapel. As we entered in the back they began to sing and raise up their voices in welcome and greeting—I was met not only with friendly and eager faces but with rushing emotions.

Jason visits with Richard, the academic Prefect

The next day we toured the Primary and High Schools, meeting students and having a chance to ask questions of the administrators that took us around. One thing is crystal clear: Redeemer Church Chicago (as we’re known there) has been the key support for this school, in terms of not only ongoing operational funding, but relationally. We are known, and loved, and appreciated. As Jimmy, Assistant Principal of the Primary School introduced us to classes, he said the following : “We can call them our brothers and sisters, and that is true; we can call them our friends and those who love us, and that is true; we can call them our fathers and mothers, and that is certainly true, but we owe a tremendous debt to those from Redeemer Church who love us and stand with us, and have listened to God in being with us”. Put yourself in our place, at that time, and maybe your knees will be as weak as mine were. It was humbling beyond words.

Sonrise is a place of joy, but scratch the surface and you will find the stories of loss and tragedy. They don’t focus on it, but you cannot ignore these stories in a country that lost a million of its citizens in three months just 15 short years ago. We interviewed high school students that started at Sonrise in the beginning (2001) and are looking forward to graduation. These young people are mature and inquisitive and committed and fun—qualities that have come because of grace and the love and care of others, and their own determination and faith.  In contrast, the country is a home for the walking wounded who have never yet found a way out or through their torments.  In our first day in Kigali we met a young woman, the same age as these Sonrise High Schoolers, who continues to live in the despair of the loss of her family, and she can see no way out. There are so many like her who need so much. That’s the kind of healing and transformation that the school has provided, and it has not only made a difference for those attending, but for the whole nation, as it has become a beacon and example.

For example, the new head of the Rwanda Development Board (the man overseeing all new initiatives in this rapidly expanding economy) is an American–a Chicagoan, in fact:  Joe Ritchie.  Joe was drawn to Rwanda after his daughter Maggie spent a year with Bishop John working at Sonrise School.  We shared a lunch with Joe and his wife Sharon, and two of their children  (one of them a friend of my sons) at Sonrise on Friday. Chicagoans meeting on the far side of the globe.  During the Sunday morning primary service at St. Michael’s there were a number of special guests, including a young man who used to work for President Bush and is now with President Kagame’s office in Rwanda, and four young people who sing together and tour as a family.  Their voices blended beautifully as they sang Amazing Grace.  For a much-demanded encore they offered a family favourite:  the Lonely Goatherd.  Their names?  The Von Trapps.   Young Justin looked as if he had just stepped over the movie set from almost 50 years ago  (the Sound of Music). It’s probably the only time I will ever preach after such a rendition and selection!!  But that’s the kind of people that are drawn to this remarkable school.  And Redeemer Church has had the unique role of encourager and partner since before the beginning.   We were welcomed as beloved family, and its an experience I hope you will know, as we have.

Rev. Agnes and me following nearly six hours of church (2 services) on Sunday morning

The teachers and administrators here are heroes—they give everything to guide these students, and Sonrise has again reclaimed its place as the top school in Rwanda. This is remarkable, especially when you consider that a large number of the students are orphaned and have faced devastation. This isn’t a posh city school in the wealthy district of Kigali (there is one there) but a place of care carved out of the side of the hills, rocky in landscape, but fruitful and rich in love and joy.

Just a quick update on our journey… we made it to London this morning. I will be attending a ministry conference on the role of prayer in the mission of the church hosted by the Proclamation Trust UK. I’ll also be meeting with some church leaders and friends while I am here, and generally beginning to process my experiences in Rwanda.

Decompression time is very critical following a trip like this, and I would ask for your prayers that we are each able to continue processing our experience and making the transition back home. Specifically, I would ask that you pray that I will be able to put words to this. Thanks!