WHY THE WESTGATE TRAGEDY IS SO TROUBLING

There have been a few historical events in my memory that left an unforgettable level of grief.    These include the day United States President Ronald Regan was shot (March 30, 1981), the beginning of the Rwanda Genocide (April 7, 1994), the Oklahoma City Bombing (April 19, 1995),  the day the Twin Towers in New York went down (September 11, 2001), and the Westgate Tragedy (September 21, 2013).    I can tell you exactly where I was at when the news started coming.   In each one I was dazed for a longer than normal period.    With each one I could never be the same again.

As I’ve visited the last few weeks with other Americans it is obvious that my inclusion of Westgate in these tragedies is unique.   Why?

Two writings have struck me as an answer to why the Westgate tragedy is so personal and the grief so deep.   One was a missionary colleague, Cheryl Cash who wrote, 

“We reside in Uganda (to the West of Kenya) but so much of our training, our renewing, and our strengthening traces East. Our family history is anchored in that land where we became missionaries and became parents...  Stores and scenarios that we are familiar with and relate to. A very strong awareness that danger is no respecter of persons. Or days. Or locations.  Very bad things happen.  Tragedy reaches and takes.

(http://www.gentlyled.blogspot.com/2013/09/praying-with-kenya.html.)”

Another Zain Verjee wrote, 

"Westgate was like home to us," said my father to me… And he was right - the mall was practically our second home -- it's where we met our friends, did the household groceries, and banking…

Looking around now at our kitchen, the tea, coffee, white asparagus, beads, my favorite ice-cream (toff n'choc with nuts) wine glasses, mobile phones, are all from Westgate (http://www.cnn.com/2013/09/30/world/africa/kenya-mall-verjee-witness/index.html.)”

I concur.   I looked in our home.   Jana’s jewelry is from Westgate.   Many of the colorful necklaces our American friends compliment Jana on are from Westgate.  Also, there are 4 carvings in our home from Westgate that summarize why the Westgate tragedy is so troubling.   We purchased them during our last Nairobi visit to mourn with our community the passing of missionary mentor and colleague, Berkeley Hacket.

THIS COULD HAVE BEEN ME

One is a carving of an African pastor in study.     Westgate mall was comparable to most malls I’ve visited in the USA.    Java House was like a combination between Chilies, Starbucks, and Baskin Robbins.   The Art Café was like one of those trendy art side walk cafes in Chicago’s Loop.   Nakumatt was our Wal-mart.   There was a movie theater with current movies.   International banks had branches.      Nairobi is where we went in the early ‘90’s to shop when Uganda’s economy produced few basic staples.    Nairobi is where missionary and African church leaders mentored us.    Nairobi is where we went when we were sick.   Nairobi is where we laughed and got a few Western frills.    We walked the malls in Nairobi.   We easily could have been in Westgate when the tragedy happened.   

THIS COULD HAVE BEEN MY NEIGHBORS, FRIENDS, AND FAMILY

We were some of the fortunate ones.   In our base moments we quickly checked phone

texts, email, and social media.   No one from our intimate church, school, mission, or friendship base was killed or in Westgate when the tragedy happened.    Yet, they could have easily been there.

Westgate attracted Africa’s middle class entrepreneurs.    Those were the people we served with in our recent posts.   Those attracted to Westgate included both Kenyans and friends from Uganda and Rwanda who were frequently in Nairobi for business and social events.   Missionaries met there to trade stories, laugh, and cry.    Westgate was one of the places on our earth our diverse community called, “Home.”

MY NEIGHBORS, FRIENDS, AND FAMILY ARE IN GRIEF

As YouTube began posting videos of Kenyan funerals I watched one.    Everyone with an East African root knows someone affected by the Westgate tragedy.

A pastoral friend and staff performed one funeral.   We had traded meals, notes, proposals, and ideas in the past.   Yet, they also did something that was so typical of the best Kenyan church leaders.   When we were in Nairobi in December 2011 with Gabriel Mugisha Jacobs being treated for convulsions they had called to ask, “What can we do?”   We asked for them to sit with us in the hospital.   When Mugisha went into a convulsion they held him with us and prayed.    They were now pastoring the grieving in Kenya.

The video scanned the crowd.   I recognized a Rwandan neighbor whose past refugee living included Nairobi.    I don’t know if she was in Nairobi for business and saw it as a season to extend our common Great Lakes compassion.   I don’t know if she made a special trip to grieve with friends.

Yet, I do know that in cars of parking lots of East African weddings and funerals the families from all our nations are deeply entwined in a community of understanding and love.

THE TERRORISTS COULD HAVE BEEN MY NEIGHBORS

Al Shabaab may be lying.  It is a dangerous thing to trust the good will of cowardly and cruel terrorists.    Yet their list of terrorists includes six from America.    Two were from Minnesota.   Their list included one each from Illinois, Maine, Kansas, and Arizona.    A quick Google search will find many articles over the last few years of Al Shabaab recruiting Somali Diaspora youth in America.   The whole truth may never be known.   Yet it will include a story of immigration gone wrong.    Evil was nurtured in my America.   Had the terrorists once walked the Mall of America with me?   Had one of the terrorists been raised a few blocks from my Chicago home?

A European missionary friend told me that radicalization frequently happens as second generation immigrants realize they can never acclimate.   They idealize beyond reason “home,” and their youthful passions become depraved.     

Immigrant friends have told me, “I always live in the hyphen.   When I walk into a room people see a _________ - American.

Christianity has been on a 20 year decline in the United States.   There are many wounds, stories, and documentation of the decline.    Yet, the Westgate tragedy hits home in the strongest term possible to me that I must decide now to love all of my diverse neighbors as I love myself.

MISSIONARY RESPONSIBILITY

Thus from this grief that is both very personal and communal I resolve to hold fast to my missionary calling.  This could have been me.   This could have been my neighbors, friends, and family.   My neighbors, friends, and family are in grief.   The terrorists could have been my neighbors.

Here am I.   Send me.

(For further missionary reflections on the Westgate tragedy that hopefully will bring some measure of healing to our community see http://www.hekimagreatlakesmessenger.blogspot.com/2013/09/walking-in-two-malls-missionary.html.)

YOU KNOW THE LORD CALLED YOU TO CHURCH PLANT IN CHICAGO WHEN:

1.   You got a great deal on meat and cheese, loaded up, and your freezer went out.  The freezer repairman your friend recommended never returned your calls, texts, or shows up.


2. Your car brakes were squealing for days, and then were mysteriously healed. 

3.  Just when you figured out how to finish unpacking you become sick and are in bed for a couple of days.

4   When house hunting your Rwandan friend directs you to a great deal of an apartment just below the only other church planter you know in Rogers Park (neighborhood on north side of Chicago.)
 
5 Your son gets into a magnet school that

requires a lottery and one year wait when a family on his soccer team hears a rumor of one remaining open spot in the 5^th grade.
 
6  Your other son is chosen to captain his soccer team.   He plays another team whose captain also is Rwandese, and your families are old friends.    At the start of the game they break protocol and give a Rwandese embrace instead of an American handshake. 
 
7     Your paycheck is lost in the mail.    Your

credit cards are maxed out.   You are out of gas in the car and almost food in the house, and then the check comes in.
 
8     Your support is way down and you don’t know how you will pay the bills, and then an old friend calls to offer to pay your rent for 3 months.
 
  9.    Your neighborhood looks, smells, and feels

so much like Nairobi you keep expecting to bump into Jim Scudder, Charlotte Hacket, and Larry and Hollye Conway.

 
  10. Of the many new languages you are hearing you can casually pick out words in four of them.

13 CHRISTMAS' IN AFRICA

Today is Jamhuri (Independence) Day in Kenya. 48 years ago, our Kenyan brothers and sisters began their journey as a nation free from colonialism.

Today our home nation of the USA rests on the calendar between American Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is a season of remembrance, joy, thanksgiving, and community.

Today is the 26th day that we have struggled with our foster son, Mugisha Gabriel’s seizures.

We have been in Nairobi for 12 days seeking medical expertise. Our son, Timothy is with us. Our old oldest daughter, Sophia is finishing her final exams at Wheaton College in Chicago, Illinois, USA; and plans to join us in Kigali for Christmas on Saturday, 17 December. Our other children; Caleb, Ethan, and Ruth remain in Kigali – attending school and living at home. Through a season of difficulty our family is in three different countries, but united in hope. We trust we will shortly be together face to face.

Over the last 12 days we have done EEG, MRI, X-rays, and blood tests for Mugisha Gabriel. We have seen a pediatric neurologist, Dr. Osman Miyanji at Aga Khan University Hospital. The diagnosis seems clear. Mugisha Gabriel had a brain injury at birth. The cyst is his body’s attempt to protect and heal. The seizures are the results of the injury. We are adjusting medicine and doing occupational therapy. We do not know Mugisha Gabriel’s future. God knows Mugisha Gabriel’s future. He instructs us that every child deserves life in a family.

We have learned to trust our faith community. Some have written us. Ann Rugege, a CCR member wrote, “He has endured so much. He is a survivor and will overcome this too. What a challenge, but God is still in control. May His message or lesson be revealed.”

Another, Annik Rudakemwa wrote, “Don’t worry pastor. I know that God has a good plan for Gabriel. Let’s keep praying for him. Thank you. Be blessed.”

Kenya is the nation of Jana’s childhood. It feels familiar yet foreign at the same time. Arriving in Nairobi feels like arrival in Kampala, Uganda; Minneapolis, Minnesota; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma; or Abilene, Texas. These are cities filled with good memories. Yet, our arrival at each city requires a fresh start. All cities change. Since our last visit friends have come and gone from Nairobi. Also, traffic seems a bit more hectic. At times these fresh starts feel quite lonely. An arrival brought on by crisis increases the sense of loneliness.

Christmas is the season of wonder. Matthew introduces the story of Jesus with theological clarity. Jesus is the Messiah (Christ, Anointed One, Fulfiller of our Hopes). Jesus is the descendant of Judah’s ideal king and father (David, the King; and Abraham, the Patriarch of the Nation) (1:1). When we are tempted to take pride Matthew reminds us our humanity. Our ancestors just like us have many failings (1:2-17). Into humanity’s paradox of chaos and hope God enters miraculously, comes close, and rescues us (1:18-25).

Dave’s first Christmas in Africa was as disastrous as memorable. (For further reading see http://jenkinsinrwanda.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-first-african-christmas.html).

The consequence was learning to embrace and celebrate paradox, unity, and wonder. Through our journey in Africa we expect God to do the profound and unexpected each Christmas season. We create traditions that empower discovery. CCR embraces these traditions of discovery.

It seems each Christmas in Africa God provides an earthly reminder of His care and sovereignty. On the second day of our Nairobi medical journey we stopped at Uchumi Supermarket at the Sarit Center to buy some supplies for Mugisha Gabriel. Then from behind us an old friend called. It was Mona Zikusooka. We had not seen her in seven years. God put our paths together again for such a time as this.

During our years in Uganda we had a delightful season in the mid-90’s in which we served a group of university students and young professionals with a ministry called UP (University. Professional). Jacob Zikusooka and his romantic interest, Mona were part of our core. The ministry vision was simple – provide a Saturday evening alternative to discos and bars. With Uganda’s raging AIDS crisis at the time it was a matter of life and death. Out of weekly party opportunities to mentor young people grew.

As Jacob and Mona decided their romance would grow into marriage they asked for us to do pre-marital counseling. We spent six months meeting weekly and sharing the wisdom God had given our own young marriage. It was one of those ministry seasons in which we found great joy. We’ve counseled other couples since then, but never for the amount of time with Jacob and Mona.

As time went on Jacob and Mona graduated. They had three beautiful daughters. Mona had a good job with Save The Children. Jacob worked with a clearing and forwarding company, and then had the courage to launch his own business.

We moved to Rwanda in 2005 from Uganda and lost touch. We on occasion traded an e-mail once a year or so, but beyond that had little contact.

The Zikusookas matured in life. Jacob served as the Chairman of the Elders board at a local church in Uganda. Two months ago, unknown to us Mona took a job with Save The Children’s Somalia Project in Nairobi. Jacob opened an office in Nairobi. The Zikusookas became Nairobi residents.

We had lunch with Jacob on Mona the first Sunday we were in Nairobi. A few days later, Nairobi guesthouse living became too difficult. We needed to be in a place that felt like family. We moved in with Jacob and Mona. A few hours later, Gabriel had a seizure. Their family gathered with us quietly around Gabriel, touched him, and gently prayed.

God had placed our lives in just the places we needed to be.

2011 marks 18 years in Africa as adults. Of these years we have spent 13 Christmas’ in Africa. As we matured to embrace African Christmas traditions God showed us the wonder of Immanuel. He is near. He displays His care many times through friendships that arise in surprising ways. Christmas is a season of wonder.

Some will use words such as “mentors” to describe our influence for the Lord in our Great Lakes Region. We’re quite hesitant to take titles that portray us in light that looks heroic. God is the hero of this journey. We have gone where we were called, spoken good words for Jesus, and done the work of each day. Sometimes we have juggled seasons of chaos. All the chaotic seasons transitioned to a place of thanksgiving for God’s providence.

Now, it seems we are nearing the close of a season in Africa. We sense God is calling us to return to the USA. We sense we must return to honor our parents and nurture our children. We sense we must return to mature ROC as a missionary sending organization. This call is more painful than the one that brought us to Uganda 18 years ago.

Where will we be on Kenya’s Jamhuri Day?

With whom will we dance on October 9 to celebrate Uganda’s Independence?

On July 4 as we celebrate America’s Independence with who will we also thank God that Rwanda’s Genocide was brought to an end?

When we are in a foreign city and in crisis will we find an old friend? Who will offer us shelter, food, and prayers for our children?

Christmas teaches us that the answers to these questions rest in the nature of God. He will be near. His care is expressed through His people.

18 years have happened because family, friends, and churches have shared in our call. They have listened, heard, and made painful sacrifices. Those sacrifices have changed lives. Those sacrifices have been Immanuel like gifts.

Our support usually increases during our furloughs. Then about one year to 18 months after returning to Africa it starts a gradual decline. We hold our breath and hope for the best. Each Christmas season it seems we receive a few gifts of wonder that continue the sustenance of God.

We request that this season you join us in making a donation. We are a faith mission dependent on God’s providence expressed through free will offerings of family, friends, and churches.

Thirteen days ago, we reserved tickets to come to Nairobi to seek medical care for Gabriel with no money in hand. A few hours later two friends surprised us. We also came not knowing which old friends we would discover in Nairobi.

We thank God for his providence.

If you would like to make a yearend donation, please make a check to ROC Partners with Jenkins Memo, and mail it to:

ROC Partners,
3007 NW 63rd Ste 205
Oklahoma City, OK 73116-3605

Thank you for sharing this journey with us.

Dave and Jana