Making Ministers

To be honest, my flesh would much rather deal with selfish, whining young adults sitting across my large cherry wood desk while situated comfortably in plush chairs in my private office at Westside Church, as we counsel about the minute details of their lives, relationships, and ambitions. My computer would be quietly humming merely inches from my ready hand, my library carefully displayed on the side wall, my decor complete with floor-to-ceiling styrofoam globe that serves to remind me that I’m actually called to “the nations.” My paycheck would come on time, and coupled with my wife’s generous pay, I could even conduct lucrative real estate transactions in my spare time, enjoying ministry in a prospering seeker-friendly church that allowed me the freedom to preach, teach, lead worship, lead a small group, or do all at once if I so desire.

I’d rather not deal with the-witchdoctor-cursed-my-children-and-they-died type of scenarios, or be confronted with the reality that a good portion of my class is dying from HIV, or after finishing six straight hours of teaching, feel obligated to pray for half a dozen ladies suffering from various illnesses and domestic trauma. It’s a bit taxing staying in lodges where prostitutes and their men argue and brawl into the night, and where the local movie house next door blares American Sci-Fi from the ‘90s interpreted into Luganda on the loud speaker for the town can hear. I won’t lie to you, trying to give a Bible college education to nearly illiterate elementary school drop-outs who only speak Luganda is challenging.

But knowing the call of God for the Earwickers, and seeing the abundant fruit of obedience to that very specific summons makes all the difficulties and lack of comforts more than desirable. In the last five weeks since we launched our second Island Leadership School on Lake Victoria, I’ve been floored by the literal transformation that comes to the lives of men and women who mix the simple Word of God with simple faith.

One brother testified after the first two days of teaching that the Master convicted him of destructive anger toward his misbehaving children. “After receiving the teaching this week, I sat down with my family and apologized to them for becoming so angry all the time when things weren’t as I would like. I told them that from this day on, their father is a new man.” He said that after this family meeting, he has had overflowing peace in his heart in regards to his children, and has begun praying for them to also have a change of heart. In a culture that has an acute lack of solid families and godly father figures, this was the hand of God actively moving this father to humble himself and step out in faith.

Another student, a recent convert from Islam, said that as he sat in class the second day, he pondered the thought that God is more powerful than the devil. There seems to be a local witch who has relative control of the local rain patterns on that particular side of Bunjako Island (of course he’s in cahoots with the “prince of the power of the air”), and refuses to allow rain to fall there. Our new brother gave God this challenge: “If you are really more powerful than Satan as our teachers have been saying, then I want to see rain here by tomorrow.” And from about 5:00 am the next morning, we had monsoon rains pelting our metallic roofs up until school time. The man came rejoicing in His God with a testimony on his lips.

Though the individual stories keep us coming back for more, in recent weeks, we’ve unearthed the horrible realities of the state of the rural Church in Uganda: it lies in ruins. Even the pastors and leaders have had no spiritual foundations laid in their lives. No one has preached a message of repentance unto life (one revealing question from a co-wife in last week’s class was, “What is compromise?”). No one has prayed for them to receive the Baptism of the Holy Spirit – it’s virtually not done in these “Pentecostal” churches. Most of the “married” folks are just living together with no cultural or spiritual commitment to each other in Holy Matrimony. Many are running illegal businesses, some are still practicing witchcraft, all are bound in a poverty mentality, and many are deathly ill. There is virtually no real fellowship in the churches and even the pastors are primarily Masters of Ceremony. These shores are a literal wreck without the Gospel in pure form nor any sort of shepherds to tend the flock.

But the islands simply scream opportunity and the probability of a healthy, strong, growing Church on Lake Victoria is high, given this felicitous moment, the hungry harvest, and our ready Redeemer. Seeing that nothing is hard for Jesus, that He delights in doing the difficult, and that He works revival through the prayers and toil of broken servants, I’d say that this dark continent is ripe for the glory of God.