Reflections on Malawi: Number 1 of 5

Our English word ‘travel’ actually comes from the Middle English word ‘travail’, which means ‘painful or laborious effort’. Even in today’s posh environment, my friends, travel can be a serious and ‘laborious effort’. Thus we began our journey to Malawi by unexpectedly overnighting in D.C. and, due to a missed connection, once more in Johannesburg, South Africa. But we did arrive!

First Thoughts

Do you remember the scene from Back to the Future III when Michael J. Fox travels back to the old days of the American West to save Doc? Well, that’s what it’s like going to Malawi for most Americans or Europeans. I’m trying to say that there is definitely some shock value upon arrival. A journey to or through central Africa is to experience the past in the present. And, dear ones, this is hardly a bad thing. Contrary to popular belief, there was life abundant before the internet and text messaging. I know I’m not alone when I wonder how much closer we might be to God if we didn’t spend all our time being ‘busy’, but I digress…..

Thanks to a snowstorm on the east coast, we arrived a day late, and, as the saying goes, several dollars short! After landing in Malawi’s capital city, Lilongwe, we travelled by mini-bus (emphasis on ‘mini’) for seven hours through the hills to the diocesan compound in the northern city of Mzuzu, which I’m told means mosquito (and for good reason!).

We arrived very late; I think after 11:00 in the evening. But as we pulled in the bishop’s drive, a delegation met us with smiles, prayers, and, thanks to British influence of a bygone era, hot tea and biscuits. The first thing that struck me spiritually was their gift of hospitality. Get this: when was the last time we waited up to welcome a bus load of strangers with prayers, hugs, and tea?!? And a hat tip to them for warming the milk first! Who wants cold milk in their hot tea?

We spent the next hour sitting in Bishop Fanuel’s dimly lit living room going round the room being welcomed. Electricity isn’t reliable in Malawi, so we learned to be happy with intermittent service. When the room would periodically fall into darkness, we simply sat calmly and continued our conversations, letting the True Light be our guide and comfort.

And just when we thought we’d missed a day’s worth of work and we could slip gently into a blissful sleep, Bishop Fanuel’s chaplain rose and said, ‘Since you were late arriving, we’ve had the participants waiting in the parish hall for you. Are you ready to begin leading the retreat?’

He was not joking. We went right away across the compound to the parish hall where fifty or so teenagers had been waiting two days for us to come and lead them in a weekend spiritual retreat! They were singing and dancing, and, according to eyewitness accounts, had been doing so for 48 hours despite sleeping on concrete floors with very little food.

And yours truly was on tap for delivering one of the opening addresses! The topic was – sin and its antidote, life in Christ. I can’t imagine why the group thought I should lecture on sin (wink wink)!! Joking aside, the participants were so eager to hear our stories, particularly how we too shared many of the same struggles.

Saturday morning arrived early (at home they’re slow-moving, aye?). After a light breakfast at the Bishop’s house (think toast, tea, and sausage of unknown origin), we were whisked away to Church of the Holy Trinity where we witnessed the profession of vows by a new sister at St. Mary’s Convent, an Anglican convent in Mzuzu. The Mass lasted five hours, yet it seemed as if it lasted only minutes. The joy in that room was contagious, seemingly floating through the air with each wisp of incense. Sister Sylvia married the Church, and what a splendid day it was.

Sunday morning, as I expected, arrived earlier than usual and I found myself accompanying Bishop Fanuel to the parish of St. Mark, which is a vibrant urban parish. They have two Masses on Sundays: an early English Mass for expats and a Chichewa Mass afterwards. Both services were full; however, at an English Mass a pew holds roughly ten people. But a Chichewa pew, that is, a pew filled with locals, comfortably seats twenty (okay, that’s hyperbole, but the point remains)! Sunday afternoon was spent with the participants of the retreat.

From My Journal

How was God at work?

God showed me what radical gospel hospitality looks like this weekend. He showed me what it means to receive a complete stranger as Christ. I watched teenagers cry when we left, and we’d only met twenty-four hours before. Of course, then, I can’t resist the metaphor: Malawian hospitality is emblematic of God’s love to us, his beloved sons and daughters, who, though we too were strangers, called us into a relationship with Himself.

What’s been challenging?

By Malawian standards we’ve been eating like kings, yet I’m starving. Also, a hot shower would be nice.

What’s God shown me about myself?

God has shown me that I’ve filled my world with distractions cloaked in what we as Westerners call enhancements. I sat in a dark room and listened to the Bishop of Northern Malawi pray and talk, yet God was closer in the darkness than in all the lights of North America. When I look at satellite imagery of the world, I’ve often wondered why Africa was so dark at night. I now know it’s not just because they don’t have steady electrical current. Much of it is a way to just sit in peace and be with God. God is calling me to divest myself of some of my distractions and just sit at His feet and listen.