I'm sitting in a bamboo hut with a tin roof. There are assorted plastic chairs, and colored pieces of cloth hanging on the walls. The view outside is of a banana grove, and seldom passerby's that are guaranteed to stare. I'm in church in Africa.
We were informed that our program for Tuesday was to preach from 10-5 at another church near this month's home. Seeing as we are not all pastors, preaching for an entire day doesn't sound ideal, but with seven of us, and Jesus, we know it's possible. We woke up to the first rain of this rainy season, and with our driver being 3 hours late, we finally arrived here around 12:30pm.
Even though we are 7 months into this trip, it's still shocking when we walk into a church and are treated like celebrities, ushered right to the front. Worship begins soon after arriving, and we should have known with the speaker starring us in the face that it was going to be loud. And it was. I cannot express to you the volume that Africans worship with. Sound systems are not only a necessity for these small bamboo huts, they are also yelled into, as if volume 10 isn't enough. Not to mention the generator needed to bring electricity to this banana grove. It's not only the literal volume of the sound system, or the puttering generator, but the volume of their heart's cry to the Lord, seen in their eyes and by the way they dance undignified. The clapping is even loud here.
In all honesty, it's difficult to sit through some African worship, especially with the language barrier, and insanely loud volume. As I started to pray to Jesus 17 seconds into the first song, I asked him for a joy I know comes only from him, for a smile on my face, for ears to hear this music like he does, and ultimately for his heart for these people that are worshiping differently than I do. In those few seconds, he centered me and reminded me that it's not about the African culture, or my new found WR culture… But it's all about Jesus' culture. It's about us all worshipping Him, and the unfathomable amount of joy he has in seeing His Bride sing as one. He loves hearing the Africans volume and he loves to hear me humming along, because he is the one being glorified, and that's what matters. It's not the literal volume of the speaker feet from my chair, but the spiritual volume we are giving to him in surrender.
Mmm… Talk about humbling….
