Our first return from Africa to the States in 1978 had left us with a rush of conflicting emotions. We had gone to Africa with dreams of playing a role in the rescue of an endangered civilization. We were escaping the pending doom with a sense of relief that we had a national home to which we could return. Yet, we didn’t know what awaited us at home. My dreams of a career as a freedom fighter were quashed. We weren’t “feeling the love” in Houston either. Rather, we despaired of finding friendship upon our return much less a new career.
This time we were flew out on the wings of 10 months of intense activity. With less than a thousand dollars to our name, no entry visa, no contacts in-country, no reliable promise of support, no expectation of finding employment, no idea what we would face when crossing the border, and with only a reservation at the Jameson Hotel, we had established ourselves in ministry and valid our theory of ministry in a foreign culture.
That was something! And we knew that it had only been a beginning. Now that we had regular supporters in the States, we felt comfortable purchasing a car in Johannesburg, South Africa. We didn’t have much money, but managed to find an ugly yellow, but serviceable 1975 Datsun for R600 (US$250). It ran and it the brakes worked. What else could we ask for? It was our own car—not borrowed! And, we didn’t have to push it to start it! We stocked up on a few other supplies and set out on the 12-hour drive to Harare.
Before returning to the States, we had set ourselves up in Kariba for future ministry. Even as we had left, it was obvious that Kariba wasn’t going to work for us. So, after a short visit to Kariba, we returned to Harare linking up again with Felix. Shortly thereafter, we returned to Wedza. After a stay with Dave and Jen at Lushington Farm, we accepted Di and Ivan Stockhill’s offer from the previous year to live in their spare ranch house. [Chapter 90 - “Contrasting Hearts”]
The house was a cement block ranch-style house with two bedrooms and a tin roof. It was painted white on the outside and white on the inside. The floors were plain gray cement. It was basic, clean and more than we had hoped for. Located on the Stockhill cattle farm, Di and Ivan had lived her during the war. When Ivan’s older brother Vic left for Australia, Ivan had moved into the more nicely-furnished main house. So, now we had a car and place to live. It was time to get back to work!
We had already established a small church meeting among the workers on the Stockhill farm, but it was being serviced by Norman who had a circuit of 5 farm churches that he bicycled to. Occasionally, Norman caught a lift with a passing farmer, but we was obvious that we needed to train a group of men to serve as pastors for the growing congregations. Each congregation needed someone who could live on the premises rather than providing visiting ministers each Sunday.
With that in mind, we made several trips to Harare to meet with ministry leaders who might be able to delegate some young pastors to the Marondera-Wedza area. I could give them Bible and ministry training as well as provide a level of initial supervision and support. We sought out the major ministries that were interested in offering opportunities to young African Christians to engage in rural ministry. Rhema (Hear the Word) didn’t have a “vision” at that time for African work at all. They focused on building their membership of Europeans (whites). I had always thought it strange that the three dominant charismatic ministries in Harare (Rhema, Christian Living Centre and Faith Ministries), saw their primary ministry as being to whites. Each of them claimed memberships of 1000-1500 people, 99% of whom were white. Yet, they lived in a black African majority country. Their paradigm of ministry hadn’t changed since the war. They were still planning and ministering as if the white minority still ruled.
Faith Ministries, at least, had a higher proportion of black African members. I always found dealing with their leadership team a bit “oily” because of their affinity for “Shepherding.” Shepherding was a fairly discredited approach to church government in charismatic circles. It posited a multiple pastors for congregations—a very New Testament idea. However, the control each pastor had over his flock of 10-30 “sheep” was oppressive. The Shepherding Controversy in Britain and the USA had almost destroyed the early charismatic movement in the 70s. Charisma Magazine’s Jamie Buckingham along with Bob Mumford and Derek Prince survived as leaders, but at a great cost to the congregations. Faith Ministries implementing of shepherding always left me with a queasy feeling in my stomach. That is why I call it “oily.”
Nevertheless, because Faith Ministries had multiple house churches with pastors and pastors in training, they were willing to allow Charles, one of their young pastor candidates, to travel with us to Stockhill farm. I had met Charles a month earlier at an evangelism meeting amid 20,000 onlookers at Rufaro Stadium in Harare. We also found a couple of other workers who came from other backgrounds. Norman took the others under his tutelage. Pegi and I took Charles who moved into the spare room at our ranch house.
Charles seemed to be well-versed in the Bible and spoke both English and Shona well. We began to be concerned when he seemed to resist leaving our house to actually go out an spend time with the farm workers. Sure, he was a city boy and this was a cattle ranch. Being with the workers meant walking in the inevitable cow pie. It also meant drinking tea and eating around wood fires, meeting in lantern-lit huts and hanging out with illiterate laborers. But, that is what he had signed up for! We probably needed to give him more time to adjust. At least, that is what we thought. Maybe he was having difficulty relating to the workers who lived in huts while he slept in a nice bed in a European-style house? Would he consider moving out into the worker’s compound? Nope!
Before I could really pursue it further, I came down with malaria. That wasn’t any fun, but there is a funny story to go with it.
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