Notes from: Sunday March 25, 2012

I went to the Sonrise Church Service this morning which is held under a canopy in the yard of the childrens’ home.  It started at 10:30ish.  I was told because of the muzungu’s that come they start officially at 11:00 sharp and ended at 12:30 sharp.  It was a very entertaining service and time passed quite quickly.  But that said it ended sharply at 1:30 and we fellowshipped until about 2:30. 

little one's sitting in front of me

congregation

guest pastor and translator

ladies and babies from Sonrise Baby Home listening to pastor

It is my experience that the Ugandan approach to faith takes very direct shots that can swivel in one’s direction at any moment.  When the pastor rebuked the congregation for not welcoming us properly it was the first of many cannon balls that were launched this morning.  Where I come from we would experience these shots as shaming but the people don’t seem to take it in a shaming way.  Actually they revere their pastors greatly and are happy to be rebuked it seems.  People seem to take a certain pleasure in a good solid rebuke. We were asked to introduce ourselves twice in the course of the service.  On the first introduction the young pastors’ assistant wanted each visitor to say if they were ‘saved’ or not.  I felt for the girl behind me who wasn’t sure as it raised the eyebrows and rotated the heads of just about everybody for a brief moment. 

The guest pastor spoke with ease and dramatic tension that held the audience for the full hour of exhortation.  The topic actually had to do with grace and finding rest in God.  That said, he swerved pretty hard at times into judgment of various types of people.  At one point he was making a point and the options that he gave the audience for answers to his question were that the woman in his story was, ‘stupid, stubborn, or foolish.’  The audience was pretty unanimous in their assessment that the woman in question was, ‘stupid’.  I loved the service, the singing, the moments of organized chaos, the sound system that cut in and out…but my sensitivity muscles contracted with each shaming shot.  I noticed too that whenever the service started to come undone at the seams my western need for control spasmed and I ended up talking myself through these mini attacks.  Plus, the little fella in front of me kept me company by feeling the hair on my legs.  I didn’t get the memo on not wearing shorts to church but they said that for one service I’m allowed to feign being new.