Praise and worship.

I had written previously about the striking poverty I found in Kenya, and the conviction I now feel to live more simply. Now I would like to write about the matters of faith that I encountered.

An interesting thing in Kenya was the contrast of the faith. In Canada, Muslims and Christians, Hindus and Jews, all live side by side in near perfect harmony. This is the case despite the fact that often a difference in religion is manifested in a difference of skin tone or style. We are remarkably tolerant, overall. I was surprised when speaking to a beautiful, well educated girl in Malindi named Flavia, when she commented that she had never spoken to white people (mzungus) before. Malindi had a fair share of Italian Tourists, and despite being educated she could not find work so she worked as a cleaning lady in the hotel. So, I asked about the many Italians she must have spoken with.

However, those conversations did not count, as those Italians always treated black people 'like garbage'. She and others were astonished to learn that should they come to Canada, they would be treated like everybody else and in fact we likely wouldn't even really think much about it.

The first region we went to in Kenya was called Embulbul. It was cold there- the high altitude and the fact that it was winter (Kenya straddles the equator, but Embulbul is south) meant that the highs each day were only near 20 degrees, but for most of the day it was closer to 12 degrees. Despite being so far in land, Embulbul had a Mosque, which would sound it's call to prayer 5 times daily- most notably at about 4am. This trend continued so that in each place we stayed we were woken at that time every night. Of them all, Malindi was the worst, because there were at least 3 Mosques in the region, and each seemed determined to chant louder than the others. Loud speakers set at the top of the towers allowed that they would be heard clearly from wherever you happened to be, and even with windows shut, fan blowing, and ear plugs in, you would be awakened by the noise.

In contrast, the Christians were very quiet at 4am- they only started making noise at 7am. I admit, we were in part responsible for the noise. We were holding rallies in each of the towns, which they referred to as 'crusades'. Crusades are held in open air, often in the market place, so as to draw in those who are not of the faith and to evangelize. At first I was quite nervous about doing this in places where it seemed evident that Christians were the minority and Muslims the majority.

Crusades were a practice popular amongst the pentecostals. In fact, each morning on KBC (Kenya Broadcasting Corporation) video of a crusade could be watched. It consists first of all with Kenya style praise and worship- which, for us, meant keyboard music backed by keyboard drum and slightly shrill singing being played too loudly over a speaker system not equipped to handle the volume, and dance. The dance was in essence a line dance, wherein 10-20 members of the praise and worship team in matching t-shirts would follow one leader who would perform a rhythmic act over and over for a few bars, and then switch. It was not difficult to learn the dance, except that you had to figure out who was the leader so you could catch the switches.

It was fun, but I remember thinking that if I were an agnostic in Kenya, and I saw the Christians doing their silly dances and the wild eyed preachers who appeared to be scolding everybody, and then saw the somber and severe muslims with their disciplined call to prayer, I would be more attracted to the muslims. Here are some videos I found of what the music and dance was like- though these are more polished;




The last place we went was called Marafa- and we began the ministry there by going door to door and through the market inviting everyone to the crusade. There a group of children, let by a young man of about 20, literally came marching in just before the rally started, and took their seats at the front. When the music started, they went to the clearing area being used as a stage, and began their own line dance. It was as though they were competing with the praise and worship group that had come in, and, I have to admit, they were better.

They left as soon as the music ended, which was also odd because that is when the preaching would start. It was later determined that they were a protestant group, and that they were in fact in dirrect competition. Church planting is a big business in Kenya- everybody tithes, however poor or indebted they are, and so if you can begin a church and attract at least 10 followers, you would have a living wage. If you could attract more, you would be wealthy. And arguably, you would only have to work once a week. It was for this reason that it was so essential to teach people apologetics, because in Kenya there was much more at stake to motivate people to convert Catholics.

(It should also be mentioned that this same economic principal led to men desiring priesthood as a means towards social and economic advancement, and as such some of the abuses symptomatic of medieval Europe are found among he clergy.)

I became quite frustrated by the fractured nature of Christianity. The divisions are mostly caused by misunderstandings and myths, and political and economic motivations. This has so crippled the Christians in Kenya as to make them unable to properly combat the paganism, Islam, and social injustice that was rampant!

It is in part because of the ignorance and misinformation than a mission is so important. Before going, people would ask why an evangelistic mission to Kenya was necessary, as Africa has a reputation for having faith filled, Orthodox Catholics. I have seen now that this reputation is in large part unfounded, or simply based on he cardinals and bishops, but not the laity. Because the laity I encountered seemed inclined to obedience and enthusiasm, if only they were taught the truth.

Our mission consisted in two teachings in the morning, primarily apologetics, and the afore mentioned rallies in the afternoon. After the teachings, we would field questions. Apologetics was an important topic because of the competitiveness of the denominations. However, an even more important topic was Theology of the Body.

I discovered this to be the case after giving a chastity talk to teenagers in embulbul. I fielded questions after, and one of the first questions asked was ' Is it OK to have sex on the first date.”. Clearly for that girl, my message had been lost. But it also indicated to me that these teenagers had no idea what chastity was or what the Church taught about sex! And so many of the problems in Kenya- Aids, polygamy, overpopulation, poverty, could in part be alleviated by a propper education on these themes. The UN continues to maintain a philosophy of handing out condoms and hoping for the best. This would be like going into a region where there was drinking and driving problems, and making sure there was seat belts installed in all the vehicles. We the church must educate them! (both the Africans and the UN.)

I began including a teaching on Theology of the Body in the adult sessions- and it was that topic that raised the most interesting and telling questions. Here are a few gems.

“If my Husband cannot satisfy me sexually, can I find another man who can?”
“If my husband is impotent, may I create children with another man?”
“If I have 5 women, and I marry one of them, can I still sleep with the other 4?”
“Is aids Gods curse?”
“Why are men not satisfied by one woman?”
“If I am a Catholic woman, married a man who I didn't know was a polygamist and had several wives already, can I still receive communion?”

This last one was hard- I asked the Bishop of Malindi, and he said 'No'.

The long and the short of it is this- we must continue to go to Kenya to teach them the truth about Christianity, about sex, and about the charismatic movement (which is misrepresented by the pentecostals and by some rogue, undisciplined leaders) and we must bring them the truth of the hope of redemption, that they can be freed from their sins.

Reflections on Africa

Perhaps it was a little Naive of me to think that I could just update this blog from Kenya while on mission. The people are poorer than I thought- most have absolutely no internet access, and so I did not have the opportunity to write at all along the way. Instead, here I am again at the end of the journey, and I suppose I might as well write some reflections!

Africa was absolutely amazing- the mission was one of the best experiences of my life. I remember a few years ago, my friend Shauna Page visited Ghana, and upon her return the thing that stood out most to her was the culture shock of returning. The culture shock arriving there is one thing, but it's when you come back and are suddenly confronted again with how superficial and consumeristic our culture is that you really feel it. In a sense, Kenya was more comfortable, because there we were just people without all the trappings and the social pressure.

At first, I was very intimidated in Kenya. We drove to a small suburb of Nairobi, called Embulbul. We stayed there at the Catholic Church, which is in a compound, and the first day, I was scared to leave the compound. I did wander a little ways, and found some children sliding down a dirt hill on garbage bags. This must be the Embulbul version of 'sledding'. I joined them for a run, and got very dirty. But that was right outside the compound, and being the only mzungu (white man) around, I was scared to go further. After all the assumption of most kenyans was that if you are white you must be wealthy... and therefore, what was to stop someone from mugging me? (This picture shows several children that were playing soccer in Embulbul. Their ball was nothing more than a bundle of bags wrapped in strips of fabric. We bought them a new one.)

People would come straight out and ask for money, ask for sponsorship for their various projects. I found myself protesting that though I was white, I was not wealthy- I was, after all a missionary, not a tourist. The difficulty is, that this was not true. For example, I have a car. I also have a nice condo. I have more than 3 outfits, and none of them have holes in them. (Note the girls in decades old dresses- this was typical.) I have running water, and a toilet that works consistently. In short, I have more than the wealthiest people I visited!

This is the difficulty. I always knew that there would be the desperately poor- but I expected a larger middle class. The middle class lived the way people on welfare do in Canada. I visited a medical doctor in his home- he had more than one room, a car, and a TV. No decent plumbing though, and his furniture and clothing were clearly 20-30 years old. No computer or ipod or any of these things we are accustomed to. That's what doctors have in Kenya.

I became embarrassed by what we have in Canada. I didn't want to tell people about my car or jobs or my problems, because it seemed so selfish. We drove for about four hours along dirt highways (few roads are paved in Kenya), passing village after village of grass huts and dillapidated tin rooves, and a river where every week another lady doing laundry of drwaing water is eaten by a crocodile. by the time we reached Malindi, our destination, I felt physically ill. Because it was all so ugly- and this is not something the people there drive through once, but where they live daily. (In this photo, you can see in the distance the grass huts. They don't look ugly in the photo, but it is sad to think that this is all these people had!)

Malindi was our third destination, so we had by then been in Kenya for 2 weeks. I was sad in Malindi to find that it was a tourist town, catering especially to Italians. I suddenly felt like the mzungus were fat and pale and ugly and frankly quite aweful. I me a beautiful 22 year old girl named Flavia there, who spoke very good English. (They teach English in schools, so most teenagers and young adults can speak it.) She told me that she had never had a conversation with a white person before, because she was intimidated by them because the tourists all treated her like garbage.

Perhaps this reflection makes me sound like I did not enjoy myself. I loved it, as it was a profound experience of love and meaning and richness, and I feel like my heart has expanded through it. However, the injustice in our society is more poignant to me now than ever. Mother Teresa used to say "Live simply so that others may simply live." She also said "It is a poverty that someone should die so that we may live as we like." I always thought the latter saying was about abortion, but now I wonder. People are dying all over the world so that we can maintain our lifestyle, own more cars, entertainment units, the latest fashions in clothing and furnishings. I don't want to be a part of this culture anymore. God has given me the opportunity to give so much- I pray for the grace to make real sacrifices, and so to grow in true charity as he has called us to.