Village Church

One of my greatest joys during our time in Uganda has been the opportunity I’ve had to speak in small village churches. About once a month I share a biblical message of justice using Psalm 10 with the purpose of calling the church to action on certain social justice issues. The basic message is that we have been rescued in order to be vessels of rescue in our community and to our neighbor; that God hasn’t saved us for ourselves, but in order to use us for the good of others.

In going to these churches, I never know what to expect. There is no PA system (not even electricity actually), no band, no newsletters or written programs to hand out (as many would not be able to read them). There is usually a drum, possibly a metal can that is used as a shaker, and always several people who are leading the songs and dancing. Many times, the church walls are made up of reeds bundled together or planks of rough wood and the floor is a mixture of hardened dung and dirt.

When I arrive, people greet me with wide smiles, handshakes and hugs. Usually they are a little surprised when I greet them in their native tongue of Luganda. A colleague, who is my interpreter, and myself are escorted to the front to sit on a small wooden bench. I don’t bother protesting anymore, but at first it was uncomfortable to sit facing the congregation during the whole service.

As things get started, the congregation spends a full two hours singing praise and worship songs, dancing to the beat of a drum, and praying with fervency together as a group. After this, I am invited to share the morning message. It is usually expected that this would last about an hour. Originally I had to add some extra stories into the message, as I am not accustomed to speaking for such a long period of time.

The picture above is some of the members of a congregation in front of their church after the Sunday morning service. While speaking, I was facing the door to the church and the dirt path in front of the building. The most interesting things passed by during that hour while I was sharing. Things such as a motorcycle taxi with several men loaded on together, a man so laden down with crops that all I could see were two feet protruding from a stack of vegetation that went ambling by, and even a herd of cattle. Chickens wander in and out of the building and one time a sheep even slipped into the back row unnoticed and appeared to be listening intently. During all of these experiences I often find myself smiling and am surprised to remember that I am in Uganda.