Hold the Rain!

The day finally arrived for our first organized attempt at evangelism. We had tied 50 large posters to trees, placed 200 smaller ones in store windows, and passed out 1000 hand bills. Our borrowed PA system was in place and we had placed about 50 chairs in the lawn in front of Chisipite Baptist Church. We had no idea how many people would attend. We had picked a Saturday afternoon as this was a time when most domestic servants had time off. And since Chisipite was a “white” neighborhood, the only African participation would be from domestic workers in the area.

Below: The banner faced the main road into downtown Harare. The church building is behind the trees.

Playing my 12-string guitar, Pegi and I joined Felix in the Shona choruses he had taught us. As we sang, a small crowd composed of Europeans and Africans from the Chisipite congregation took their seats. The church property was surrounded by a waist-high chain link fence. Behind that fence, near the lawn where we had gathered, were about 100 - 150 African onlookers. Some were singing along with Felix. Others waited patiently for the preaching to begin. However, they would not pass beyond the fence onto the church property. It was almost as if that tiny fence was an insurmountable barrier.

There was something about the reputation of that church that made Africans feel unwelcome. Of course, we didn’t have time to consider all this. We were focused on getting through our program to the all important preaching and “altar call” for people to come forward and pray to receive Christ as ‘Lord and Savior’.

Left: Forbes family with whom we were staying.

Right: Felix preaching to the brave souls who entered the church property!

I don’t remember the content of Felix’s message. What I do remember is directing Felix not to have an “altar call.” I was concerned that the crowd would not come past the fence. So, I told Felix to instruct people to pray to receive Christ right where they were standing. [I had always been uncomfortable with the psychology of the altar call. I felt that the pressure of public attestation interfered with the right to privacy and confused faith with outward signs. To my way of thinking the outward sign was the water baptism that would come subsequent to faith.]

Once people had prayed, we invited them to join us at the church building for few moments of counsel with one of the church members. We were happily surprised to see 27 people come past the fence and attest to their new faith. We were also passing out free Shona bibles to the new believers and anyone else who wanted them. Pegi went to the microphone to announce the free bibles and was suddenly caught in a crush of people who clamored forward. We distributed over 100 bibles in just a few minutes.

Probably the silliest thing we did that day had to do with rain. Since we were holding the meeting outside, I had been very worried that an afternoon thundershower would completely wash out our meeting. Just after Felix finished his sermon, it began to sprinkle and dark clouds threatened to interrupt at the most critical juncture--the invitation to pray to receive Christ and entrance into a relationship with God. So, I got together with a farmer from Wedza who made the three hour car trip to assist. We asked God to hold back the rain! To my total surprise, the rain stopped almost immediately, the clouds parted and the sun began to shine.

That was great, right? Well, yes in a selfish way, as it kept us dry that afternoon so that we were able to talk to those 27 people. But, I began to fret over the next few days when the rain showers didn’t resume. I began to worry that, in stopping the rain for my own needs, that somehow I had made the the years of drought conditions more acute. It was silly to have prayed like that and even sillier to worry. What I didn’t realize was that it was the end of rainy season anyway! That is why the rains didn’t resume--rainy season was over. I think I had begun to be subconsciously influenced by my charismatic friends who believed that Christians could perform all kinds of signs and wonders. I was only kidding myself, but I didn’t get the joke until some years later.

So, rain-stopping silliness aside, what had we accomplished? One thing was certain that all the frustration, all the difficulties, and all the opposition from John B, Morgan and others who felt that we were just crazy Americans, paled in the face of the overwhelming success of that day’s ministry. The next day, at the Sunday afternoon service, there were 17 of the 27 new believers in attendance with their families. That almost doubled the size of the African congregation.

The steam had just gone out of the opposition and we were buoyed in our confidence. Even if we never got a dime of support from America, even if the Baptists wouldn’t have us as a pastor, even if Rhema and the other charismatic ministries didn’t share our vision for African ministry, and even if immigration sent us home,--even anything, we had accomplished something of eternal value for the kingdom of God! We had been instrumental in introducing 27 people to faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. No one could take that away from us.

Of course, over the years I have wondered about those 27 people and the nearly 5000 others who professed faith in response to our ministry from 1983-87. Especially as I came to see more holes in the theology of Christianity, I worried about what we modeled for those new believers.

After all, I no longer consider myself a Christian, but have returned to a Jewish spirituality. So, was the teaching we did of any value at all?

After considering this question for two dozen years, I have come full circle in my thinking. Yes, we introduced them to a loving and compassionate God. We modeled acceptance and a life of simple trust in God’s character. There is nothing wrong with that. Indeed, set the Christian doctrine aside, set the Jewish or Muslim doctrine aside. It is still all about putting your trust in the same God as did Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Jesus and countless others throughout the millennia. As Martha Stewart would say, “That’s a good thing!”

Next: Taking Our Show On the Road