The African church…
It pretty much does everything different than we do back at home. And I kind of love it.
Every Sunday at our church here in Tanzania, they ask if anybody has a song, dance, or skit that they have prepared for the Lord. And every Sunday, we are blessed to see many different, “acts.”
It is not uncommon, for someone to go up before the congregation and dance to a track (or sometimes to just claps) with a small group of people. Children, young adults, and those ripe in years are all eligible, and they all take advantage of the opportunity. There are also a lot of people who go up and lip sing with a microphone. And it’s convincing.
But today, the most unlikely person blessed my face off.
Her name is Orpa.
Before today, I knew Orpa as the quiet nameless woman who was always the first to start interpretive dancing during worship. Easily over 80 years old, she’s still got it. She stands in the front row and slowly moves to the beat, cane and all.
Although she sits on the left side of the church, her dancing always brings her to the right side, as her eyes seem to be failing her. But this woman has no shame, because she knows exactly who she is dancing for. And I know that He is so happy to watch his daughter.
But today she caught us all off guard.
Before the speaker was finished with her last sentence to invite people up (or really even began her last sentence), Orpa began her journey towards the front with a song on her heart. At first I was confused, because I could hear singing while the other woman spoke, and up until that point, I hadn’t seen anyone interrupt the speaker.
But when everyone realized who it was, a shallow sea of snickers and giggles began to fill up the quiet space in our ears. People were whispering and laughing at the determined old woman as she walked up.
With limp hands, Orpa’s arms moved back and forth to keep the rhythm to her song. Her tired voice stayed soft underneath the chatter, until it finally died off. And all that was left in the silence was the song of an old woman to her God.
As she reached the front, she seemed to forget to turn around towards the congregation. So for a moment, she sang with her back to us all. But after a woman came up, whispered in her ear, and handed her a microphone, she turned towards us and we could see her longing face.
Her cheeks were drenched and her eyes were full of tears as she continued her song—her cry to the Lord. Her face looked as if she were singing to a lover that had long since gone. And for a few minutes I watched the most genuine song of a daughter to her father. It was the most real form of worship I have ever seen.
It was clear that she was not singing to us or for us. She was only singing for her King.
It is also not uncommon for a member of the church to go up to the singer/dancer and hand them money (a thank-you for blessing the congregation). During her song, a young child had walked up to Orpa, and because she couldn’t see her, the girl placed the money in her unused hand. When she felt it in her hand, Orpa stopped her song to say, “Asante,” (Swahili for thank you), and then picked up where she left; only to continue until she was finished.
All I could do was cry with her. Not because I was sad, but because up until this point in my life, I have never seen anyone sing to God like that. I can only imagine what her failing eyes have seen throughout the course of her life. But one thing was clear—that she was singing to one man. It was as if we weren’t even there.
I don’t know what impacted me the most.
The complete lack of acknowledgment to the congregation.
Her desperation for the Lord.
Her persistence even though people kept trying to take the microphone from her (I left that part out).
Or just the thought of loving someone so much that you have to sing to them.
She reminded me today that loving our God is an active pursuit. It’s going out of your way to show Him love, just like we do for our earthly friends. It’s wanting to give them gifts or offerings of song even though nothing we can offer will be enough to properly express our love. It’s singing in front of hundreds of people, and only seeking the approval of one.
This is the kind of love that I want to have for my God.
I want a heart like Orpa’s.
“Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.” John 4:23-24
