In the previous episode of this ongoing series, the story focused on how the European church’s work in Africa has often lacked real conversation and understanding. Instead of true partnership, missionaries sometimes brought their own culture and prejudices, which led to mistrust and missed chances for learning from each other. The episode showed that, while other parts of the world have influenced the Church through sharing ideas, Africa’s voice has often been ignored. It ended by suggesting that real mission should be about both giving and receiving, and that building trust and respect is a journey that continues into the next part of the series.
Fortunately, during my stay in Africa, in Kenya, Sudan and Zaïre, there always have been occasions when a dialogue with Africans came about. Often they were during times when I felt defeated, or when I was willing to let the African lead me. These moments have turned out to be rich ones for me, easing the burden of my heavy baggage. Such dialogue cannot be organized; it just happens spontaneously when people are together in willing receptivity. I have written of some of these encounters because I think they can enrich others just as they have enriched me.
‘Sitting under a tree chatting with the natives’, is often considered a waste of time by westerners. In Africa people call it making time, an African cottage industry. In European culture there are very few people left who know how to make time. The Africans often make time under the tree, for themselves, for each other, but also for the missionary, if he or she is willing to share it. Maybe it is understandable that in the West we have become jealous of our time after being told that it is the equivalent of money.
For the greater part of my stay in Africa I made myself continuously busy, running around, always short of time. I was to learn that in war there are times when you can do little; you must sit tight and stay put. But even during the busy times of peace there were always occasions when the Africans had to slow me down, when they invited me to sit with them under the tree. There, under the tree, dialogue can be born; there together we can discover what mission is really all about.
The stories in this book are part of that mission, of being open to the Good News, which Africans and westerners might be for each other.
I am still looking for a good definition of Mission. One that appeals to me more and more is, ‘Mission is to sit where the people sit and let God happen’. This definition is not my own invention; I read it somewhere and it stuck because it seems to fit with the African culture. When I shared this definition with an African colleague he commented that this was a very good definition of Mission, provided that we did not think that in this dialogue we also had to speak to God. With a smile he added: ‘In Africa, God is old and wise enough to speak for himself and he does not need any lawyers’.
Get ready for the next instalment, where the dust of Yambio’s market-place barely settles before new questions arise: Will John Lakrimoi finally get some good news on the radio, or will the only thing more unpredictable than the war be his commentary on it? With shifting frontlines, missing family, and a knack for turning every broadcast into a lively debate, John’s story is far from over. So, pull up a chair under the nearest tree—because in this episode, the search for peace comes with a side of sharp wit and unexpected wisdom. You won’t want to miss what happens next.
