Following the carefully laid paths of the Lord during an ATL month look a little bit like this:
Pray for a hostel that will allow us to stay for $5 a month, find a hostel willing, realize that an Adventures in Missions Passport trip is staying at the same hostel for a debrief, accept the Passport trip’s invitation to a worship night at a Catholic church, meet a priest at the church who mentions he is also a chaplain at the teaching hospital in town, accept the priest’s invitation to a interdenominational service he hosts for the nursing students, meet one of the nursing students who invites you to his Pentecostal church, accept the invitation to Fire Tabernacle church and….
We’re standing outside of Zambezi Primary School, feeling a bit lost and confused and tired. It’s 8:45 in the morning and after walking all over town since 7:30, we think we’ve finally arrived where the church service is supposed to be held.
Our guide, a funny and kind girl named Gracious, keeps trying to call our nursing student friend, Elijah. We can hear the sound of singing inside one of the classroom buildings and we’re itching to get into the service, seeing as we were originally told it started at 8:00.
We keep asking Gracious if it would be okay if we just snuck into the service, telling her she really doesn’t need to get a hold of Elijah, we’ll be fine. Yet, she keeps calling him and seemingly everyone who knows him, none of who can help us get in contact with him.
Around 9:00, we’re all ready to insist on entering the service where we hear singing when Gracious points to an empty classroom and tells us that’s where the church meets.
I felt like I got flicked right between the eyes when she told us that. Too often, we are quick to assume and quick to think we know best with what little information we have. It’s an American thing, I’ve been told.
So after being humbled into accepting that our local contact probably knows a little more about what’s going on than we do, she keeps calling until she finally gets Elijah on the line.
Service isn’t until 9:30, he tells her, but he will be there soon to set up the room.
“Soon” can mean a lot of things in Africa (anywhere from 30 seconds to three hours), so we all sit, grateful for shade.
Thankfully, Elijah arrives after about five minutes and we begin the process of turning a classroom into a church.
He keeps laughing at our willingness to help him set up, but he accepted our help all the same as we moved desks, set up chairs, and hung curtains.
As we transformed the room, I chatted with Elijah. He told me that his church once had a large building where they met. Their church is a plant from a larger body, and when the head pastor (who also happens to be Elijah’s father) wanted to break away, the larger body sued. The court dismissed the suit twice before on the third trial, the larger body bribed the judge and won.
With that, Fire Tabernacle church lost their building and other finances, and have since met in this small classroom.
“But it is not about a building, eh? It’s about the people who meet, and our people love each other and love God.”
I nodded and agreed with Elijah, appreciating his positive perspective on the situation. I appreciated that while an injustice has been done to him and his congregation, he chooses to have grace and look beyond the past and into the present.
And Fire Tabernacle’s present is indeed a beautiful thing.
I’ve been in and out over dozens of churches and church services since launching in October. Something about Fire Tabernacle felt right. I felt loved and valued, but not put on a pedestal or unnecessarily honored, which can happen a lot on the Race.
I felt like I was in a room with my family.
Fire Tabernacle church is not perfect, but they seem to understand the concept of unity in the body exceedingly well.
And truly, united—in all things and in all areas— is what the church should be. It should be a place where we show exceeding grace to one another. It should be a place where someone with different colored skin can come in and be welcomed with open arms. It should be a place where kids run around and feel like welcomed members of service not nuisances. It should be a place where people feel free.
Like I said, I’ve been to dozens of services in the last six months, but very few touched my heart as much as Fire Tabernacle did.
And my favorite thing is that God used a secular hostel, another team from Adventures in Missions, a Catholic priest, and a Pentecostal nursing student to bring us right where he wanted us to be. Theological differences be danged, we’re all sons and daughters and when we’re willing, He uses ALL of us for his good.
I could try and find words to better describe exactly what they church should be and how things should work, and using clichés like “the church is more than a building” but I think Elijah’s father said it best when he took my hand warmly to say goodbye; “Sisters, you are welcome. I say again, you are welcome. You take something from us and leave something too. We all have treasure to share.”
That’s it. That’s the church.
Go. Find Believers with whom you can unite, and share your treasure today.
