THE JOY OF THE MISSIONARY CALL

Senator and friend, Marguerite Nyagahura with our foster son, Gabe

There were many privileges the Lord gave us during our season in East Africa.  One of the greatest ones was joy in our friendships with the African people with whom we served.   We had a few furloughs where we returned to the United States wounded by religious charlatans.   We know missionaries whose return to the United States came during a season of wounding that created Afro pessimism and spiritual bitterness.   Yet, in our departure from Africa’s Great Lakes we had an immense sense of fulfillment.   The institutions we labored to build were stronger than our charisma.   They endure.   Also, our friendships blossomed.   Those we shepherded blessed us.   We are immensely grateful.

            Our missionary calling is a unique spiritual gift.  We believe to be a missionary is to be one sent from one’s earthly home by the Holy Spirit for the purpose of making disciples and developing churches.   That call means over time we become a cultural insider who is never completely at home.   Thus we’re prophetic in holding leaders accountable while pastoral in building institutions that bless coming generations until the Lord returns.   This calling is from the Holy Spirit.   It is never about economic power, race, or national origin.  Only a few will hear a missionary call.   Yet, the call is never restricted to those from certain earthly privileges.

            We believe all cultures need missionaries in their midst.  We observed that over time the missionary vocation became a great source of social strength in East Africa.   Our heritage not only developed churches.  We built schools and scholarship programs.   We counseled diverse national leaders.  We helped the poorest of the poor and most vulnerable.

            Our family believes our new call is to serve the Diaspora from Africa’s Great Lakes who are in North America.  We believe we are doing what missionaries always do.   The Lord is leading us to new niches that most do not see.   A typical weekend for us involves going to social functions of Diaspora in Chicago.  Sometimes we know someone at the function.   Yet, sometimes it is simple beginning introductions.

            We usually say these words, “We are very thankful for the 19 years the Lord gave us as adults in East Africa.   He put a missionary gift in our heart.   We believe we are still to be missionaries even when we return to the USA.”

     

Paulin Byusa, Ame Ishimwe, Joseph Masengeshu, Joris Manzi at Commemoration

       Then spiritual magic happens.   We are met with smiles.   We are met with stories.

            “I went to a missionary school.”

            “A missionary sponsored me and found a scholarship for me to study abroad.”

            “A missionary baptized me.”

            “A missionary performed my wedding.”

            “A missionary prayed for me (or my child, nephew, niece, grandchild, etc…) when I was sick and I was healed.”

            “A missionary counseled a difficult situation in our community and brought unity.”

            “A missionary kept my mom safe during a season of turmoil and strife.”

            We are immensely thankful for such a heritage.   Yet this heritage is not one to hoard.   It calls us to see new community needs, and initiate.   In the process we make many mistakes.   Yet, God’s grace goes far beyond our failings.   Thus the Lord is glorified.

      

      In April as Rwanda faced the month of mourning the tragedy of the 1994 Genocide we sensed it was time to pastorally initiate a commemoration.  As it closed a few Diaspora told us thank you.   The Chicago Rwanda Genocide Memorial would not have happened without a missionary in the Diaspora midst.

            We then spoke something that our missionary elder statesman once said to us.

            “Don’t give me any honor for this.  It was just a missionary thing to do.   The honor needs to go to the Holy Spirit which called us.   All this call is about is discerning when the community has a need that can only be met by an outsider understanding enough to initiate.

            You can be a missionary too.   You are away from home.   America needs you to be a missionary to them.   You will return to your African home someday.  When you return go as a missionary.   Be a Holy Spirit inspired starter.”

            To one thankful Diaspora mom we said, “Again this is no big deal.  It is just a missionary

Diaspora kids - Christian, Zam, and Aisha sharing a meal in our home

call.  The Holy Spirit may call your children to be missionaries too.  If so, bless your children in that call.”

            This is pure missionary joy.  We empathetically understand these old missionary words generations upon generations have repeated, 

 "I can’t tell you how happy I am to learn that many members of your family are diligent in living out the Truth, exactly as commanded by the Father. But permit me a reminder, friends, and this is not a new commandment but simply a repetition of our original and basic charter: that we love each other (2 John 1:4-6, The Message with a little tweak.)"

MEMORIAL FOR MAJOR EUSTACHE NSINGA

The word of God in James 4:14 proclaims, “What is your life? You are a mist that appears a little while and then vanishes.” Eustache Nsinga has passed from this life to another far too quickly. Most of us are still in shock. This seems unbelievable.

Eustache Nsinga was born on 4 August 1973 to Emmanuel Basomingera and Marianne Mukasarambuye in Bujumbura, Burundi. He passed from this life to another on Christmas Eve, 24 December 2011 in Kigali. That day will remain unforgettable in all of our lives.
On Christmas Eve 2011 I was performing the Christmas Eve Service at Christ’s Church in Rwanda (CCR) when I was asked to step outside of the assembly for an urgent matter. Gatete, Eustache’s housekeeper came with the news that Eustache Nsinga had passed from this life to another. I thought, “Surely not. This must be an ugly rumor or a big misunderstanding.” I returned to the assembly and sat with my wife, Jana; and told her, “There is an awful rumor going around that Eustache Nsinga has died.”

Then my phone rang. I rarely pick up a phone call during church, but as I looked down I saw it was from Eustache. I stepped out and answered the phone expecting to hear Eustache’s voice. Instead it was his brother, Innocent confirming the news. Eustache has passed from this life to another.

I imagine I am not the only one who has felt shock over this Christmas season.

This morning as I checked emails I received one from a relative of Eustache in Canada. She had seen the dialogue on Facebook and thought this was just a really bad joke. She wrote asking, “Pastor, tell me what is true.”

It is true. Eustache Nsinga has passed from this life to another.

Another word besides unforgettable fills our discussion of Eustache’s passing. That word is irreplaceable. How can we face life without Eustache? A man’s days on this earth are fleeting. We are all just a mist. Yet, the principles of a man’s life endure. There are principles those of us a bit older teach to younger generations.

Many of you are fortunate to have known Eustache longer than the 5 years I knew Eustache. In my interactions with Eustache there were 4 principles in his life that are enduring characteristics. These 4 principles are the substance which makes the memories of Eustache irreplaceable.

The first principle I remember from Eustache’s life is justice and equality. Eustache befriended me in the early days as we started CCR a little over 4 years ago. From the beginning he never treated me different from others due to the color of my skin. He made me feel as at home in Rwanda as I would feel in the village in the United States where my parents live.

God’s word proclaims in Leviticus 19:33-35, "When a foreigner lives with you in your land, don't take advantage of him. Treat the foreigner the same as a native. Love him like one of your own. Remember that you were once foreigners in Egypt. I am God, your God”. Eustache lived this principle.

When I asked him why he was so kind and treated people with equality he told stories. One was of his early years as a refugee in Burundi. Another was his early days as a student at La Roche University in America. I remember him telling me of traveling to the United States when French and Kinyarwanda were his preferred languages and his English skills were just beginning. He told me of going to the university cafeteria, looking at food, and struggling to explain what he wanted to eat. Those memories stayed with Eustache and empowered him to treat others with kindness and equality.

The second enduring principle of Eustache Nsinga’s life was his faithfulness to his covenants. God’s word proclaims, “Understand, therefore, that the Lord your God is indeed God. He is the faithful God who keeps his covenant for a thousand generations and lavishes his unfailing love on those who love him and obey his commands. (Deuteronomy 7:9.) …. If you listen to these regulations and faithfully obey them, the Lord your God will keep his covenant of unfailing love with you, as he promised with an oath to your ancestors. (Deuteronomy 7:12.)”

In my early years in Rwanda I was fortunate to be part of a small project called the Presidential Scholars that helped some of Rwanda’s best young academic minds study in the USA. The program has grown to over 300 students and Eustache was one of our key early advisors. He shared with me his story of attending La Roche College and upon graduation being one of the few to return to Rwanda while others just disappeared in America. Eustache was faithful to his covenants. He loved Rwanda and could not imagine breaking faith with his covenant to return. As years passed he pointed out that those who thought they had found a better path through broken covenants had become irrelevant while his faithfulness was rewarded.

What gave Eustache the ability to persevere and keep his covenants?

Two more enduring principles of Eustache’s life stand out. The third enduring principle of Eustache’s life is joy. God’s word proclaims, “So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy. (John 16:22.)” This is the joy we speak of today. Loss of life on this earth does not endure. Another day is coming. On that day we will rejoice. Our joy cannot be contained by the circumstances of today.

That joy is given by the fourth enduring principle of Eustache’s life, hope. “And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. (Romans 5:4.)” Eustache’s character was one that could endure great difficulties confident in eternal hope.

As we say goodbye to Eustache from this earth some questions come to mind. His death was far too early. He had given much and still had much to give. He was young. He was talented. His dreams for Rwanda had not yet come to pass.

Why this tragic and sudden loss? Death is not God’s intention. His intent is to bring us full and abundant life (John 1:4; 3:15-17; 6:40; 10:10). In the beginning as God created the earth everything He created was good (Genesis 1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31). Sickness, death, and suffering were not God’s intent. Death entered into the world as a consequence of sin (Romans 5:12-20). With the entrance of sin into our world everything changed. Yet, God knew this would be the story. He knew that the world and people He created would betray Him. The only way to restore creation to God’s intent was for Him to offer His son to die in our place. God made this choose before the beginning of time. He was a Redeemer before He was a Creator (Ephesians 1:4, 5). The illustration of God’s love is one of an Adoptive Father rescuing an abandoned child (Ezekiel 16:4-6). This is what God has done for all of us.

Where is this going? We will go to Eustache (2 Samuel 12:23). He will not return to us. King David as he grieved for his sick son stopped his grief when the son died. He recognized in the passing of life that now the season had come in which he would go to his passed son. We are now in that season. We will go to Eustache.

Some may ask, “Where is God when we suffer? He is not distant. He sees our grief and is filled with compassion (John 11:33-35). The stories of Jesus in the New Testament use an English word that is translated compassion. Those of us that speak several languages know that sometimes there is a word in one language that cannot be adequately translated to another. Splaxna is the Greek word usually translated “compassion” in English bibles. It literally means that when Jesus sees another suffering it made him hurt inside. Jesus literally felt “shaky guts.” This is part of being human created in the image of God. We feel one another’s pain. Then as we go to them and physically touch them we are physically healed.

We experienced that the last few days. The news of Eustache’s death was shocking. It left us confused and disorientated. It made us physically in pain. Then as we met and embraced we were comforted and healed.

I have a small genetic misfortune. My dad, brothers, and uncles all have portions of the cartilage in our spines that will deteriorate. As the cartilage collapses it causes severe pain that radiates down our legs and arms. I have had 4 seasons in which this pain came to my life. During the first season I was very angry with God. Yet, a friend told me is it ok to be angry with God. He is a big enough God to receive the anger. In the midst of the anger God healed my spirit.

The last time I experienced this pain just before I went into surgery I saw a phone call coming into my mobile phone. It was Eustache Nsinga calling to encourage me. He was like Jesus to me. He had lived through pain. He knew what it was like to suffer. He came close to encourage and suffered with me. In the process I found courage and hope.

Ultimately, Jesus answers the question of where is God when we suffer by his death upon the cross. Our sin has caused great suffering. On the cross the consequences of sin are taken away (Hebrews 2:17-18).

What can we expect? The Resurrection is coming. Let me close by reading God’s word.

“Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die (John 11:25).”

“For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him (1 Thessalonians 4:14).”

“And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever (John 14:16).”

PASTORAL REFLECTIONS ON PROSTITUTES AND RELIGIOUS CONMEN

Prostitutes and religious conmen hear me well. I am not a loaf of bread. I am husband. I am a father. I am a pastor. I am a runner. I notice that some choose to follow me. Some are seekers. Some are children. Some are prostitutes. Some are religious conmen. I am amazed at the similarities between prostitutes and religious conmen. I see they suffer from the same root causes. For the seekers and children, I know where you can find life giving bread. I hope we can find a shared answer.

I live in Kimihurura between the Papyrus Restaurant and Cadillac Night Club. Between 9:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights I see women who appear to be prostitutes outside my home. They are scantily dressed. My Saturday morning usually starts with a run. My Sunday morning usually starts with leaving home early to prepare for worship at CCR. Many times, I have short conversation with the women who appear to be prostitutes. They call me sweet names, try to initiate conversations, and some even try to touch me. I am 44 years old. I have never been described as handsome. I have a bad back, five kids, and a missionary salary. A young scantily dressed attractive woman who has a romantic interest in me is either mentally deranged or a prostitute. I am a husband. I am a father. I am a pastor. I am a runner. I am not a loaf of bread. When a prostitute calls me, I keep running. They leave me after less than 100 meters.

I am a Muzungu. I at times appear to have money. I sometimes attract religious conmen. They find me at all hours of the day and a multiple of times per week. Their dress is either immaculate or shabby. They try to make me either feel sorry for them, or be amazed by their spiritual power. I have learned not to trust them. However, some of my Bazungu friends will listen to their stories. They speak sweet Kilokole. However, like the prostitute they only see me as a loaf of bread. When the religious conman calls me I keep running. I am not a loaf of bread. They leave me after a few pastoral running strides.

On my morning runs sometimes the children of Kigali choose to join me. We run together. They make me laugh. They seem to know who I am. Sometimes, they chant, “Jesus,” or, “Imana ishimwe.” They follow me kilometer after kilometer. They make me a better runner. They enjoy my friendship and seem to know I seek the bread of life.

At Sunday mornings at CCR and throughout the week, seekers choose to join me. We pray together. We share. We laugh. We cry. Sometimes, we dance. They find my failings and still follow me kilometer after kilometer. They make me a better pastor. They enjoy my friendship and seem to know I seek the bread of life.

As the children join me on a run I notice some are girls. I wonder if the prostitutes who follow me for a few meters once were little girls who shared a run with me for kilometers. Something went terribly wrong.

As the seekers join me for prayer I notice some are hurting. I wonder if the religious conmen who follow me for a few meters were once honest seekers who shared life with me. Something went terribly wrong.

I don’t like prostitutes or religious conmen. I don’t like being treated like a loaf of bread. However, I find that both suffer from the same disease. Prostitutes and religious conmen thrive in a world of non-literacy and poverty. In a way they are victims.

I do enjoy children and seekers. I think they follow me for the much the same reasons. We both seek friendship and the bread of life. Life may have struggle, but we refuse to be victims. We thrive in a world full of love, hope, and joy.

Prostitutes economically thrive by finding those who are sexually unfulfilled. Religious conmen economically thrive by finding those who are emotionally unfilled. I find the prostitute’s and religious conmen’s clients to be more repulsive than the prostitutes or religious conmen. Some like to rant at prostitutes and religious conmen. Some intend to police them out of existence. However, let me propose a few solutions to make Kigali a more pleasant city. Let us build schools and businesses. Let us build a literate and wealthy population. There will always be a portion of our city that is poor. However, let us make the options of prostitution and religious conmen much less financially advantageous.

Next, let us find a way to police the financiers of prostitutes and religious conmen. If we dry up the money the prostitutes and religious conmen will go somewhere else. Maybe, we would be well served to run internet photos of both prostitute’s clients and religious conmen’s financier with a short story?

Prostitutes and religious conmen, I feel mercy for your situation. However, I am not a loaf of bread.

Children and seekers; let us continue to run. Together we can find the bread of life.