Too Much Mutton!

So here we were on our way again to Kariba.  This time it wasn’t a vacation, but a change of operating theaters.  As we moved into a tiny three-room suite at the Kariba Christian Centre, we were far too busy to think about what all of this meant for us as a couple in the greater scheme of things.  Today, however, as I read through my journal entries a quarter century later, I can see just how far we had wandered from anything we had known before.

Married 8 years, I was 35.  Pegi was 32.  For the last 15 years, my entire focus had been my spiritual growth as a follower of Jesus.  I had dropped out of university at 20 and never found a career path other than the hope of “full-time ministry.”  Yet, the unusual trail that had led a Jewish ex-hippie and his spouse to Africa did not resemble that of other missionaries.  I still had no formal biblical or ministerial training.  Nevertheless, I had pursued my goal with a single-mindedness and energy that makes me short of breath today!

Every day was packed with activity:  hours of intensive personal study, leading others in biblical studies, nighttime evangelistic meetings, one-on-one spiritual counseling and all the details of managing life’s details in a foreign country on little to no money.  A typical week included 2-3 nighttime outdoor evangelistic events to between 50 and 500 people, speaking engagements twice on Sundays as well as mid-week, 5-10 appointments with ministry workers, 4-5 daytime bible studies or schools of ministry, 5-10 personal letters to supporters, . . . We were really energetic!

We were also deeply entrenched in what is best described as charismatic ministry.  The first 10 years of my Christian wanderings had kept me firmly rooted in that part of evangelical life that viewed the expectation of “Spirit-filled” miracle ministry as highly suspect.  But, as Pegi and I had sought to live out our lives with effectiveness, we had found ourselves drawn to the claims of Pentecostal/Charismatic ministers as explained in Listen for the Music and Follow It.  Since arriving in Zimbabwe, our experience seemed to verify that non-charismatic ministries were uniformly unsuccessful.  They neither caught nor held the attention of the African populace whose indigenous religious sensibilities were accustomed to examples of “power.”  

Of course, music has always been at the core of my being.  The lively music that characterized the charismatic movement was quickly incorporated into our ministry.  Africans, too, seemed to have a strong affinity for music and responded readily to our ministry because of it.  African tradition also has an expectation of practical and powerful results from religion.  I never could accept the paradox of the spirit-filled and empowered ministry of Jesus and his disciples compared to the somber intellectualism of modern Christianity.  I had never been interested in the doctrine, dogma, tradition and authority of the historical Christian movement.  My interest was in the fullness of life expressed by Jesus and his Jewish disciples.  What Jesus and his disciples had experienced pulsed with life and truth.  That is what I wanted to experience!  So, I was drawn to charismatic present-day experience that claimed to be parallel to that of the 1^st century.

When we ministered with Felix or others who actively sought the “power of the Holy Spirit” we seemed to have immediate results.  When we encountered traditional ministry such as at the Chisipite Baptist Bible Church, the congregations were lifeless and unenthused.  We did note that much of what passed for charismatic ministry was seriously lacking in biblical fidelity.  It seemed to me that charismatics used the Bible as justification for activities that were clearly outside of any sound biblical context.  We sought to unite sound biblical exposition with the experiential power of the Spirit of God.  That desire on our part often resulted in unrealistic hopes.

We had adopted not only charismatic ministry, but also its vocabulary.  As I read through my journal entries, I am embarrassed by my own naiveté.  There are constant references to praying for miracles of healing, “confessing” ministry finances, attacks by Satan, victories over demonic powers and overly-optimistic estimates of how people have “given their lives to Christ.”  Here is an example that makes me dizzy just to read:

Kariba - Saturday, 8 September 1984

This morning we are really encouraged in the Lord and ready for a crusade tonight . . . .

--We arrived at the park in Mahombekombe only to find that the carnival was still there.  It was supposed to have finished on Friday night.  Also, there were traditional dancers and a film at the hall!  We decided to set up anyway!

Jeff and Tinos tuneup

We spoke to the foreman of the carnival and told him it would be okay for him to stay, even though we had permission to use the park.  We would set up next to him and he could turn off his music once we started.  He agreed and was helpful at first.

A rainy night in Mahombekombe

We began to sing with only about 20 children present, but after a few minutes there were at least 1000 people.  By the time we started the film [from a T.L. Osborn evangelistic crusade in the Philippines with tens of thousands in the audience and dozens of testimonies to miraculous healing], there were at least 1500.  

Just as we were about to show the film a town councilman showed up saying that we really didn’t have authority to be there.  We told him that we DID!  He said the foreman of the carnival had complained because we were there.  He had apparently become upset when we took his crowd away from him.

I stood my ground and said that as far as we were concerned, we had permission and we would not move.  The councilman relented offering us the town hall for tomorrow night and the rest of our crusade.  We agreed with that and went on with showing the film.

The devil had tried once again to stop the preaching of the gospel and once again had failed.  We had called his bluff and took authority over the situation.  

At least 300-400 raised their hands to receive Christ.  Allowing for the 200 we counted two weeks before, I would say there were about 200 new commitments.  That puts our total at 2897 [since our return in 1983].  We gave out about 1000 tracts and had the thrill of defeating the devil even though he had us surrounded--Praise the Lord!

Sunday, September 9

Tonight we set up in Mahombekombe in the hall.  It was very hot and about 150 came..  We sang and then I preached on Ephesians 2.  I had asked how many were born-again and it looked like everyone raised their hands.  

Afterwards, I gave an altar-call and one young man came forward.  After he prayed he said he could feel joy flooding his being.  We prayed for 3 sick people, one with TB, another with a deaf ear (who then asked what he must do to be saved), and another (who had been saved the night before) who was suffering from dizziness.  [He must have felt like I feel now recounting all of this!]  

Monday, September 10

. . . This evening in the park at Mahombekombe only 100-150 came.  Tinos preached, but 51 came to the Lord. . . .  We prayed for healing for about 20, several testifying to being healed.  

Tuesday, September 11

. . . At Mahombekombe park . . . About 150 of 500 responded (Total 3118) . . . .

Pegi was asked to pray for a woman with pain in her back.  After praying, the pain moved to her chest.  Pegi cursed Satan and the pain left.  This was important for Pegi since she saw that the Lord could heal through her without me there praying with her.  [Can you believe this stuff?  I shudder to think that this is what we were actually thinking at the time!]

--The amazing thing about this evening was how peaceful and orderly it was.  We didn’t have to rebuke the devil all night.  It was like Satan got tired and left us alone tonight.  [I seemed to have already forgotten about Pegi rebuking Satan as I jotted these things down before going to bed.]

So, at least from our perspective at the time, our ministry was successful and it seemed that we had made the right decision in moving to Kariba.  We had also begun to feel that we no longer needed the experience of Felix or someone else to guide us and pray for healing.  Neither did we seem to need the films any longer as several nights without them at Mahombekombe had shown.  We were gaining confidence in ourselves that the Lord was with us in ministry.

Life at the Kariba Christian Centre was not working out as expected.  Yes, Lester wanted us to be involved as “trustees” in its management as a rest stop for missionaries on furlough from Zambia.  Yes, we could use it as a base of operations to meet other missionaries and ministries with whom we could work.  Yes, we would be actively involved in ministry to exhausted missionaries in need of rest and relaxation.  Yes, we could cook meals and wash dishes -- What?  We were expected to work for free as kitchen help?

Yup, apparently by moving into a tiny un-air-conditioned suite of three rooms, we were expected to cook and clean.  I sure didn’t remember a discussion of this in the “You don’t understand that God has sent you” discussion!  And then there was the matter of the single small fan in our room.  Lester needed to give that to some other missionaries in another room.  We were expected to sweat it out in our room without the A/C that Lester had in his.  And now we wouldn’t even have a fan to keep the thick hot air moving?

And, what had happened to those nice meals that we had in the cafeteria the first two weeks we had visited?  Well, apparently, finances were running low since some of the missionaries refused to contribute to the cost of their room and board.  Even though Pegi and I were paying the advertised rates to stay there, we would pretty much have to live on a diet of mutton that had been donated by a local farmer.  There was no fruit, although the markets were overflowing.  We were short of bread, even brown bread.  We had limited supplies of eggs and milk.  I don’t remember any vegetables.  We had mutton for supper, mutton stew for lunch and although we didn’t have mutton for breakfast, all I remember is the smell of mutton with every meal.

Up until now, everyone we had met in Zimbabwe was incredibly giving and hospitable, recognizing that we were without regular financial support.  White Europeans and black Africans alike always had sought to share their best with us.  But, Lester and Peggy Seiler, who had significant regular support for themselves and the Kariba Centre ministry from America, were not willing to share.  We were paying for our room and board just like the other visitors at the Kariba Christian Centre, but for the privilege of helping out, we would cook, clean and eat rations.  This wasn’t going to work!

Pegi and I decided that this was a perfect time for us to make a trip back to the States.  While there, we could visit friends who were interested in our ministry.  Now that we had ample tangible success to talk about, we should be able to raise enough regular support to get the minimal transportation, equipment and operating funds so that we would no longer be dependent on hospitality.  The hospitality, except for the glut of mutton, had been wonderful.  But now it was time for us to be responsible for our own expenses and free up resources to support indigenous African workers.  With about US$2000/month regular support we could provide for ourselves and support others such as Norman and Tinos.  Maybe we could also help out other new missionaries who were just getting established.  Whatever support we raised, I was confident we wouldn’t have to eat mutton ever again!

Next:  Where Is Home Anyway?