A Tale of Two Phone Calls

There was something about Wedza.  Maybe it was just rural Africa itself, but Pegi and I found ourselves at peace at the Hess’s farm.  We were out of the pressure cooker of competing ministries that was Harare--no competition for who had the best Sunday service, music group, attendance, or financial support from the US or UK.  There were no doctrinal disputes over charismata nor denominational traditions.  

The rural areas were so hungry for attention that we were welcomed by Christian and non-Christian alike.  Since the war, when mission stations had often been centers of activity for the “freedom fighters,” there had been little evangelistic ministry.  A few Methodist schools and Catholic clinics survived, but they were Christian in name only.  Although it was a totally different setting, people didn’t think any more about the name over the door than when one enters a Methodist, Catholic or Jewish hospital in any city in the US.  The name over the door only signified the denomination of the founding donors.

The charitable infrastructure in Wedza was in shambles.  The source of finance and energy was coming from the ruling ZANU-PF party.  On the surrounding white-owned farms, the charitable infrastructure was wholly dependent on the benevolence of the white farm-owners.  

The white farmers were nominally Christian, but committed Christians such as Dave Hess were few and far between.  There was a small group of white Christians who worshipped on Sundays in Marondera, about 45 minutes by car from Dave’s farm.  Ministry responsibilities were shared with Dave shouldering most of burden.  There were two Australians who ran a cattle farm about 30 minutes from the Hess Farm.  Together with Norman, we held a series of evangelistic meetings on their farm that led to a regular Sunday afternoon worship service.

Ministry on a Wedza farm

Sunday worship in Marondera

Soon, the excitement started to spread from worker to worker and farm to farm about what we were doing.  I don’t think it had much to do with our music or my teaching.  I think what caused the excitement was that we were genuinely concerned for the welfare of the African population.  Anyway, there was no competition for attention out there--show up and you had an attentive audience.  We showed up while so many others scrambled for prominence in Harare.

We found ourselves drawn more often and more strongly to Wedza as the weeks went by.  At the same time, we were less and less happy hanging around Harare and Chisipite Baptist.  After several months of alternating Sunday speaking responsibilities with John B at Chisipite, the congregation still couldn’t seem to make up its mind about calling a pastor.  

Out of the blue, their founding American missionary-pastor returned.  Of course, he was looking for a paycheck!  Rather than make a commitment, the congregation decided to use all three of us.  Now that was just a waste of resources.  Why have three people ministering to the needs of less than 50 people?  It seemed to us that it was time for us to move on and maybe even move out to Wedza where we were really needed.

The Two Phone Calls

The phones in Zimbabwe didn’t work very well.  The phone lines were old and the switching system was ancient.  Sometimes, your phone would just stop working for months at a time.  Even in Harare, you just couldn’t count on getting through by phone, so people were accustomed to just dropping by to say "hello."  There was always some hot tea and biscuits, if not a full meal available to visitors.  Phone service in the rural areas was even worse.  Dave Hess had a “party line” that he shared with several other farms in the area.  To get his own private line would require stringing a new cable at a cost to him of Z$7000.  

Phone Call One:  We were staying with Alistair and Sylvia Forbes in Harare during this time.  As were were considering what to do about Chisipite, we were thrilled that the ringing phone was actually for us!  It was Colin Taylor asking if we could drop by for the meeting in his home on Wednesday evening.  We happily agreed.  We always enjoyed his Wednesday evening youth group meetings where we typically helped Colin by leading the young people in singing.  

Walking in the door, we were surprised to see that none of the young people were there.  Instead, there were about 15 adult members of Chisipite.  We had just walked into a doctrinal ambush.

Apparently, while we had been ministering in Wedza, John B had been continuing to sow seeds of hatred and mistrust.  Most of the 15 adults were there to hold an inquisition into our beliefs with regard to charismatic spiritual gifts.  Never one to pass up a speaking opportunity, I was only to happy to expound in detail on the Bible’s teaching on the subject, my own experiences, and the lines of investigation that I was currently making into the subject.  

There wasn’t much they could say to counter my biblical arguments.   To me it wasn’t even really an issue of whether signs and wonders were valid ministry or psychological support mechanisms.  To me the real issue was respecting one another as fellow God-followers.  I used the opportunity to scold them for their suspicion and distrust of charismatic Christians, especially those from Rhema.  Either we were Christians or not--there was no room for discrimination one against another over differences in these doctrinal matters.  

After 45 minutes of give and take, it was clear that we had won the day.  However, the atmosphere of subterfuge was disturbing.  Here were a group of Christians who had it in their power to really make a positive impact for the kingdom of God and they were spending their time murmuring and criticizing.  We had had enough.

Pegi and I looked at each other, smiled and stood.  I picked up my guitar and walked out  announcing that we were resigning from all ministry responsibilities at Chisipite.  

Phone Call Two:  The next morning, I called Dave Hess in Wedza.  Telling him of the evenings events, he reiterated his invitation for us to come live on his farm and minister in Wedza.  A few hours later, we had moved into a cottage next to the main farm house.  What a relief to be out of that cauldron of competition and suspicion!

The cottage at the Hess Farm

Next:  The Tobacco Road