Have you ever felt rushed to get to church, or felt the tension while trying to avoid showing up late and being "that family"? Well that doesn't happen in Zambia. Our little family tried tob e ready by 9:20, but our ride didn't who up until 9:45. The "ten minute drive" to Pilgrim Wesleyan Church was closer to half an hour. For Americans, this kind of delay could mind-numbingly frustrating. For Zambians, it's standard procedure, and true to form, the service hadn't even started by the time we showed up (which was well past its supposed starting time).
This is just one of the many ways in which Americans and Zambians are different. At the core we are very similar, but our priorities and passions lie in different places. Zambians may not care much about hard deadlines, but ask them to pray in church and they'll blow the doors off with their zeal. The word thunderous comes to mind when they sing together in worship. Every aspect of the service, from the greeting to the songs to he sermon had an intensity and intentionality that was new to me. The room throbbed with it this desire to meet with God. One especially profound moment occurred when one of the songs went especially long. As the chorus was repeated again and again, members of the congregation stopped singing and began to pray. Soon the music had completely given way to the clamor of a praying congregation. It wasn't scripted or forced, it just went where it seemed to go naturally. After a time the music began again and the entire congregation was singing once more. No announcement, no suggestion or verbal transition. It just happened. I wonder how many American churches capture this kind of fluidity and spontaneity.
Needless to say we left the church a bit breathless, but we felt ready to perform that evening. Our performance wouldn't be what we had originally expected, however. On Saturday we were informed that the youth rally where we were expected to to play had been cancelled. One of the teachers at Choma Secondary Schoo, a school with ties to Fortress Vision, had died. Instead of the rally our team and some of the academy students headed to the home of the deceased, where many had already gathered to pay their respects and observe the Zambian tradition of being present for what Richmond called the "funeral period."
The academy band played hymn after hymn, lending a solemn atmosphere until it was simply too dark to read the music. When we turned from our stands we saw that where had once been empty lawn were now hundreds of people, all those who had known or been impacted by the life of this teacher.
It occurred to me then tht we had been a part of a big event, and what we had done for this family was no small thing. Indeed, it was a way for our students to invest and give back to their community in a profound way, even if they have seemingly nothing to offer. For Poetice and Fortress Vision, it is exactly what we hope for.
For more information about Poetice International, its ministry in Zambia, and updates on this trip be sure to check www.poetice.com and follow @livepoetice on twitter.
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