Through His eyes

(Most of the following post was written on 4 April. I had planned to post it but for some reason I felt as if it wasn’t complete. With the recent xenophobic attacks in South Africa (Google it), I felt like it was now time for me to share)

It amazes me how God speaks at times. It doesn’t matter what your circumstances might be, He can use simple things to open up your eyes and awaken your spirit man. A few weeks ago, one of the youths at our church lost his brother. My wife and I and several others from the church decided that we would attend the funeral which took place on Good Friday. This would be my first time witnessing a burial in the rural areas. We traveled the 70 kilometers (44 miles) to his parents’ home in Nyamandlovu. Over the next several hours, God showed me a few things that I’d like to share with you all.

When we drove into their village, the first thing we see is a large crowd of people walking down the road. As we got closer, you could see that most of the people were dressed in red and the women were wearing white hats. The closer we got to them, the louder their voices became. They were all singing. As we approached, the people moved to the side of the road and allowed for us to pass. A few minutes later, we pulled into the family’s home where the burial would be taking place. There were probably about 70 people gathered there. We greeted some of the family members and then we were escorted to the grave site where we found another 50 or so men and young boys gathered. Many of them were taking turns shoveling dirt from the hole where they would soon lay their loved one. By the time we walked back to the home and sat down, about 30 minutes had passed. About that time, the large group of people dressed in red that we had drove by stopped at the gate at the entrance to the home. (I really can’t explain it to you but just know that Africa is known for its protocol – certain things have to be done certain ways. If not done properly, a kind act could easily cause offense to someone or be viewed as a sign of disrespect) The group consisted of about 100 men, women, and children. Their singing had stopped. They waited quietly by the gate outside for about five minutes before someone from the family asked what they had come for. The response was “We have to comfort you. We have come to cry with you.” We later learn that they were members of a Methodist church in the area. The family gave them permission to enter the home. I didn’t understand everything that was said but I know that they shared an encouraging word, read a passage of scripture from the Bible, and sang several songs together with the family. It was a touching moment. Very powerful. You could sense the presence of God. Before the group left, the pastor spoke. He said that they were having their Easter conference at the nearby school and when they heard that someone in the community had passed away and that there was a funeral taking place, they wanted to come to pay their respects. They had even collected an offering which they presented to the family as a gift. I assumed that someone from the family attended this church but I was mistaken. The church simply came to show love to those within their community. It blew me away. There wasn’t any ulterior motive. No incentive for them to come, but yet they sacrificed their time to come and share love with the bereaved. The past few weeks, Sista and I and a few others have had conversations about the lack of love and relationships within today’s church. The sense of belonging, that connection, being a part of something, family. You don’t see it much these days. It seems to me that most people only relate to their church family for a few minutes after church on Sundays. But during this time of mourning, at a funeral in rural Zimbabwe, God showed me through this group of believers, that it still exists. We have to be the change we are looking for. It’s not an issue of prayer, it’s about action. We, the church, need to start living the Word we talk about on Sundays. Regardless of denomination, background, social status, education, skin color, or tribe, we need to stand together. It says in Ecclesiastes 4:12, there is strength in numbers. As children of God, I believe that we need to be unified. If for no other reason, than to carry one another’s burdens.

(Galatians 6:2, 2 Corinthians 8:13-15)

As I got into the truck to leave, a man walked up to me. I greeted him in Ndebele and shook his hand. He went on to tell me that he fought in the “struggle” (war fought for independence from the British, coincidentally celebrated on 18 April. The nation of Zimbabwe celebrates 35 years of independence this weekend). He told me that he witnessed many terrible things but then he said something that really ministered to me. He said, “We are all one. We are all the same.” From an outsider’s perspective, you would think that this man was crazy. I imagine that he and I have very little in common. Our entire lives are different but yet I could not have said it any better. We share the same faith. Our hope is in the living God. We come from different countries and we speak different languages, yet we worship the same God and that my friends, is an amazing thing.

 For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to ALL men

Titus 2:11

 I am thankful for the sacrifice that God made by sending His only son to die for me. His love and forgiveness do not discriminate. Neither shall we. Redemption came into this world as an innocent child. Jesus withstood every temptation and as He hung from a cross at Calvary, He defeated the enemy. He now reigns victorious as the eternal King. No name is above His name and one day, every knee shall bow before Him.

 I am blessed to be known by God and as one of His sons, I am a citizen of the Kingdom. It is an honor and a privilege to serve Him.

 We are all instructed to go and make disciples so let us get into the world and proclaim the Gospel and compel those that are lost and hopeless to have a seat at His table. The day of the Lord is near and there are seats still available.

 Share His love. Share His Word. Share the message of Jesus Christ.

He is coming.

Shalom,

Jesse