I had no trouble waking up almost an hour before my alarm thanks to a spider on the wall. It wasn't a terribly large spider, but large enough to do the trick. Breakfast was served and we ate it on the veranda while it was still relatively cool.
At 9:45 am, we left for Mascarenha BIC Church (pron. "mash-car-rain-na". Another unrelated point I'd like to mention: spell check keeps telling me I've misspelled Macarena.). To get to the church, we drove on the Beira Corridor, the main east-west highway from Beira to Mutare (pron. "moo-tar-eh"), Zimbabwe. On the way, Steve and Chris taught me some basic Portuguese:
Bom dia! (pron. "bone dee-ah") "Good day!"
Obrigado. (pron. "oh-bree-god-oh") "Thank you."
Como esta? (pron. "como esh-tah") "How are you?"
Bem. (pron. "bane") "Well."
Fortunately, Portuguese is very similar to Spanish which I somewhat know. Unfortunately, the last time I had to use Spanish was my senior year of high school.
We drove past the turn off (which was on the right) and made a U-turn, not because Steve forgot where he was going, but because the road was divided with a drainage ditch in the middle. When we came back to the turn off, we left the paved road and continued down a dirt road. Shortly after crossing a small stream (or possibly a pothole larger than the road that was filled with water), Steve made a right and followed a single lane road. This lane soon turned into a foot path. After a short distance, we pulled into the church compound. Steve parked underneath a tree and we made our way into the church. Rain was falling steadily at this point.
The building the church met in was about half the size of the sanctuary at Mt. Pleasant Church of God. It was made of cinder blocks. There were two doors and an opening in the back wall that served as a window. Recently, a metal roof had been put on, but a storm had ripped the back left corner off two weeks later. The missing section helped to provide some natural lighting. The members of the congregation sat on benches situated in two sections. A row of elders sat in the front and on the left hand side in chairs. Latecomers had to stand in the back or sat on a blanket if they had brought one.
Unbeknownst to me, Steve had stopped to talk with someone as I followed Chris into the church. She introduced me to Pastor Zacarias Maharange, who was the provincial pastor for the Sofala province and also the brother of the bishop of the Mozambican BIC Church, Filipe. Now I realized that I was on my own as Chris had gone to talk with one of the ladies and the elders all got up to greet me. I exchanged Bom dias with all the elders and was directed to a chair in front of the church facing the congregation. Not long after that, Steve came in and sat in the seat beside me.
The service began with a lot of singing and dancing. Being entirely in Portuguese and Ndau (pron. "en-dow". Ndau is the local language of Beira.), I didn't understand a word being said apart from Jesus (pron. "jay-shush") and a few Spanish cognates. One man was especially enthusiastic about the dancing and was trying to get everyone dancing. He even succeeded to get Steve to join in which was quite a sight.
The other thing about the worship that caught my attention was the instruments being used. Unlike what I was accustomed to in Western churches, most of the instruments were played by people sitting throughout the congregation. The only instrument being played at the front of the church was an accordion. The man playing, Pastor Lazaro Magiogio, only played one melody the whole time and varied the tempo to match the song being sung. The other instruments included a drum being played by a young boy and a tambourine played at a fast tempo by a girl. Despite the speed, it blended well with the rest of the music. The strangest instrument had to be a whistle (like the kind a referee uses). This was one instrument that I personally could have done without. The shrillness of a whistle can be very unnerving when you’re not expecting it. I guess if you are worshiping God by blowing a whistle, then He's not going to call a foul.
After the congregation finished singing and dancing, there were performances by the youth and children. Both were similar in format, with the group starting from outside and singing and dancing to the center. It was during this time that I noticed many of the girls wore high heels that dug into the ground with each step. I can't imagine how much harder this must have made the dance, but none of them missed a step.
When they had finished, Steve and I were called forward so he could introduce myself and I could give my greetings to the church. Steve explained that "this handsome young man" was from the United States on his first trip to Africa to learn about the church. Then it was my turn to give my greetings. Youngson Palibendipo, a missionary from Malawi, translated. I gave my greetings and sat back down. Steve leaned over to me and jokingly quipped, "Uh-oh, you're in trouble now." In my haste to get through all the parts Steve and Chris had briefed me on, I had forgotten to say my name! Steve stood back up and made a nice recovery.
For those of you who have known me well, what happened next will surprise you. The previous night, I had agreed to join Steve and Chris in singing a hymn in front of the church. It must have been a combination of the jet lag and not wanting to let my host down. So the three of us and Youngson sang Christ the Lord Is Risen Today for the entire congregation at Mascarenha that day.
Following the applause we received (they were gracious hosts as we were not the most gifted singers as Steve had warned them beforehand) there was a recognition/dedication of those who were baptized that weekend. A bench was brought forward for them to sit on while, Keith, one of the young pastors preached a short message on the importance of baptism.
Next, Zacarias gave the sermon. He explained the Easter story to the church and why it is the most important Sunday. I was only able to catch parts of the sermon. Zacarias was a very spirited preacher and rarely gave Youngson enough time to translate into English.
After Zacarias was finished with the sermon, a bench was brought to the front of the sanctuary for a child dedication. On the bench sat the mother with child, two of her daughters, and the godmother. Absent from the service was the father whom Zacarias made an example of for sleeping in instead of being in church. The rest of his message was about the responsibility those on the bench to raise this child with the knowledge of Christ.
Another part of the service that really made an impression on me was the numerous prayers throughout the service. There were prayers by Keith, Lazaro, Zacarias, Youngson, Steve, and myself. The most poignant prayer time was at the end of the service. A bench was brought forward. Steve and I were asked to lay hands on and pray for members of the congregation who wanted to be prayed for. I was amazed at how many people came forward. I prayed over at least 12 people. In fact, so many people came forward that some of the other church leaders joined in to help us get through everyone. This experience definitely took me out of my comfort zone. I had to pray for people who were complete strangers to me in addition to the fact that they spoke a different language than me. In times like these one must have a willing, servant-like attitude to allow God to use oneself to do His work.
A few other comments I'd like to make about the church service are as follows. I got to experience the full range of climates that one might experience in a tropical place like Beira. At the beginning of the service it poured. Soon the rain subsided and the heat and humidity ran rampant. When the people danced, the entire ground shook. Zacarias explained their tradition of dancing and that they don't expect white people to join in the dancing because "you will get tired," but that Mozambicans do not get tired. They dance in church to forget about all the hardships they endure at home. At the conclusion of the service, I joined the pastors and Steve in a greeting line as people filed out of the church. We returned back to the house around 1:00 pm exhausted from the heat and length of service. After eating lunch, we napped on the couches.
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