Columnist Matthew Parris from The Times - December 27, 2008
As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God. Missionaries, not aid money, are the solution to Africa's biggest problem - the crushing passivity of the people's mindset - Matthew Parris
Before Christmas I returned, after 45 years, to the country that as a boy I knew as Nyasaland. Today it's Malawi, and The Times Christmas Appeal includes a small British charity working there. Pump Aid helps rural communities to install a simple pump, letting people keep their village wells sealed and clean. I went to see this work.
It inspired me, renewing my flagging faith in development charities. But travelling in Malawi refreshed another belief, too: one I've been trying to banish all my life, but an observation I've been unable to avoid since my African childhood. It confounds my ideological beliefs, stubbornly refuses to fit my world view, and has embarrassed my growing belief that there is no God.
Now a confirmed atheist, I've become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa: sharply distinct from the work of secular NGOs, government projects and international aid efforts. These alone will not do. Education and training alone will not do. In Africa Christianity changes people's hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good.
I used to avoid this truth by applauding - as you can - the practical work of mission churches in Africa. It's a pity, I would say, that salvation is part of the package, but Christians black and white, working in Africa, do heal the sick, do teach people to read and write; and only the severest kind of secularist could see a mission hospital or school and say the world would be better without it. I would allow that if faith was needed to motivate missionaries to help, then, fine: but what counted was the help, not the faith.
But this doesn't fit the facts. Faith does more than support the missionary; it is also transferred to his flock. This is the effect that matters so immensely, and which I cannot help observing.
First, then, the observation. We had friends who were missionaries, and as a child I stayed often with them; I also stayed, alone with my little brother, in a traditional rural African village. In the city we had working for us Africans who had converted and were strong believers. The Christians were always different. Far from having cowed or confined its converts, their faith appeared to have liberated and relaxed them. There was a liveliness, a curiosity, an engagement with the world - a directness in their dealings with others - that seemed to be missing in traditional African life. They stood tall.
At 24, travelling by land across the continent reinforced this impression. From Algiers to Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon and the Central African Republic, then right through the Congo to Rwanda, Tanzania and Kenya, four student friends and I drove our old Land Rover to Nairobi. We slept under the stars, so it was important as we reached the more populated and lawless parts of the sub-Sahara that every day we find somewhere safe by nightfall. Often near a mission. Whenever we entered a territory worked by missionaries, we had to acknowledge that something changed in the faces of the people we passed and spoke to: something in their eyes, the way they approached you direct, man-to-man, without looking down or away. They had not become more deferential towards strangers - in some ways less so - but more open.
This time in Malawi it was the same. I met no missionaries. You do not encounter missionaries in the lobbies of expensive hotels discussing development strategy documents, as you do with the big NGOs. But instead I noticed that a handful of the most impressive African members of the Pump Aid team (largely from Zimbabwe) were, privately, strong Christians. "Privately" because the charity is entirely secular and I never heard any of its team so much as mention religion while working in the villages. But I picked up the Christian references in our conversations. One, I saw, was studying a devotional textbook in the car. One, on Sunday, went off to church at dawn for a two-hour service.
It would suit me to believe that their honesty, diligence and optimism in their work was unconnected with personal faith. Their work was secular, but surely affected by what they were. What they were was, in turn, influenced by a conception of man's place in the Universe that Christianity had taught. There's long been a fashion among Western academic sociologists for placing tribal value systems within a ring fence, beyond critiques founded in our own culture: theirs" and therefore best for "them"; authentic and of intrinsically equal worth to ours.
I don't follow this. I observe that tribal belief is no more peaceable than ours; and that it suppresses individuality. People think collectively; first in terms of the community, extended family and tribe. This rural-traditional mindset feeds into the "big man" and gangster politics of the African city: the exaggerated respect for a swaggering leader, and the (literal) inability to understand the whole idea of loyal opposition. Anxiety - fear of evil spirits, of ancestors, of nature and the wild, of a tribal hierarchy, of quite everyday things - strikes deep into the whole structure of rural African thought. Every man has his place and, call it fear or respect, a great weight grinds down the individual spirit, stunting curiosity. People won't take the initiative, won't take things into their own hands or on their own shoulders.
How can I, as someone with a foot in both camps, explain? When the philosophical tourist moves from one world view to another he finds - at the very moment of passing into the new - that he loses the language to describe the landscape to the old. But let me try an example: the answer given by Sir Edmund Hillary to the question: Why climb the mountain? "Because it's there," he said.
To the rural African mind, this is an explanation of why one would not climb the mountain. It's... well, there. Just there. Why interfere? Nothing to be done about it, or with it. Hillary's further explanation - that nobody else had climbed it - would stand as a second reason for passivity. Christianity, post-Reformation and post-Luther, with its teaching of a direct, personal, two-way link between the individual and God, unmediated by the collective, and unsubordinate to any other human being, smashes straight through the philosophical/spiritual framework I've just described. It offers something to hold on to those anxious to cast off a crushing tribal groupthink. That is why and how it liberates. Those who want Africa to walk tall amid 21st-century global competition must not kid themselves that providing the material means or even the knowhow that accompanies what we call development will make the change. A whole belief system must first be supplanted.
And I'm afraid it has to be supplanted by another. Removing Christian evangelism from the African equation may leave the continent at the mercy of a malign fusion of Nike, the witch doctor, the mobile phone and the machete.
Matthew Parris Matthew Parris joined The Times as parliamentary sketch writer in 1988, a role he held until 2001. He had formerly worked for the Foreign Office and been a Conservative MP from 1979-86. He has published many books on travel and politics and an autobiography, Chance Witness, for which he won the 2004 Orwell Prize. His diary appears in The Times on Thursdays and his Opinion column on Saturdays.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Sweet Smell of Prayer
Treat my prayer as sweet incense rising; my raised hands are my evening prayers.
Psalm 141:2 (MSG)
The Sweet Smell of Prayer.
Twice a year I do a Sweet Fast where I abstain from, well, sweets for an extended period of time. Usually during Lent and then again in the fall. Currently I am fasting from sweets for the month of November, breaking it with my favorite, pumpkin pie, at Thanksgiving. I am a little embarrassed to even be calling it a fast. It’s not like I am starving myself. I am not depriving myself of nutrition. I am just staying away from donuts, cake, pie, ice cream, cookies, soda etc. It isn’t even for a whole month as Thanksgiving comes on the 27th.
As I write this, we have a Costco GIANT pumpkin pie in the fridge that Laura bought not knowing I was fasting from sweets. We also have the most awesome chocolate chip cookies (next to Mrs. Switzer’s) that our neighbor brought over, AND left over birthday cake from my nephew’s birthday party that he just had to share with our family. Not to mention a case of my favorite Tasty Kakes (Philly’s equivalent to Little Debbie’s) – that my mom shipped out to me along with other Phillies memorabilia. I have done total fasts before. I have done Daniel fasts (fruits and veggies) for an extended period of time. But the one that wears me down the most is the Sweet Fast. I didn’t realize my daily ritual at 10:00 am, 3:00 pm and 7:00 pm of going to the fridge and looking for something sweet - that is until now. I find myself standing in front of the fridge, looking inside and saying to myself “What am I doing?” The other night, while wishing I could devour a serving of Oreos (a serving of Oreos is defined by the single-serving wrapping, usually 3 servings per box) I thought I would try and switch from sweets to salt and finish off a bag of Cheetos. Legally, not breaking my fast but probably missing the whole point. Anyway, I realized that nothing could fill the “sweet” void. Not even a bowl of Honey Nut Cherrios. I know they are full of sugar, but they are not on my list of banned substances.
Today is November 10th, and already I have found myself on two occasions this month, while spending time in prayer for our country, city, church, and my family, bursting out in uncontrollable tears. “Where did THAT come from?” Wiping away the tears. “I hope no one saw me!” Ironically, in my morning devotions I am currently in the book of Jeremiah…how fitting! Initially as I read Jeremiah, I thought, how odd to be crying for your country. What would make me cry for my country? No, I didn’t cry because Obama won the election. (Personally I don’t think McCain OR Obama would make a good president but that’s another issue). Jeremiah wept for his country partially because of the current (backslidden) status of Israel. But I think Jeremiah also wept because he knew that the more he preached “thus said Jehovah”, the more the people would rebel. They didn’t want to hear what Jeremiah was telling them! Their rejection of God was reaching a fevered pitch. The anger, hate, intolerance had boiled over and would no longer be contained. While Jeremiah was “tolerated” in the past, now he would pay for his “hate-speech”. I think this is why I weep for our country. Not so much that America has turned its back on God, rather that America has turned a new corner. Open hostility towards God and His Church. No longer are Christian values accepted or even “tolerated”. Just last week, protestors in fits of rage, disrupted church services, declaring God’s message of hope as “hate speech”. America’s passive rejection of God has turned the corner and is heading full speed ahead lining up the church in the cross-hairs of their scopes. Do I cry because my freedom to gather with like-minded believers is threatened? No. Do I cry because my freedom to express my beliefs is no longer accepted or even tolerated by those who say they preach tolerance? No. Do I cry because as a pastor, I could be labeled a preacher of hate and perhaps jailed much like Jeremiah? No. I cry because there is a world of people who want nothing to do with God. And God, being a loving God and not forcing Himself on anyone, will grant their wish, for all of eternity.
Presently, this is the worst economy since the Great Depression (probably worse given the greater number of people). Twice, the majority of California has voted to preserve traditional marriage and the attack on marriage has only intensified. Corporate and government corruption. Hundred’s of billions of dollars in bailouts. Personal debt reaching an all time high. National debt spiraling out of control. And the proposed solution? More debt. America is on the verge of imploding much like ancient Rome. Economically, morally, spiritually. I don’t cry for the condition of our country. I cry for the path it has chosen.
I pray for our country as it turns a new corner. I pray for our city as it deteriorates. I pray for the church as it goes underground. I pray for my family, that we would stand our ground. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
I find fear creeping in. Yet I know, perfect love casts out all fear. I want to run, and realize the safest place is in the palm of His hand. I want to scream, but no one hears.
How exciting to see biblical prophecy happening before our eyes! I don’t think that is what Jeremiah thought while sitting in prison.
Yes, I want to serve the Lord. But I am realizing how selfish I am in wanting to serve Him - conditionally. …that You bless my family…that You prosper my family…that You protect my family…that You would grow “our” church…that You would place honorable men and women in positions of authority and leadership in our city, state, and country. I find myself wining toward God. I want it my way…I want a Tasty Kake!
November 11, 2008
I spent most of today in Tecate Mexico playing with kids at a daycare facility our family and church support. 150 kids come to the daycare before or after school to have a safe place to stay and at least one good meal daily. I try to visit the day care several times a year. Most of the kids know me as Pastor Loco (Crazy Pastor). I try to get down on their level, play their games, have fun with them, and let them know it is OK to be a kid. Many of these boys and girls do not have a father figure, and the ones that do are not positive. So just being an adult male who spends time with them is something they don’t experience too often.
None of the children I spoke to could tell me the name of the new president of the United States. None of them knew anything about the propositions that divide our country, the plummeting stock market, or the hundreds of billions of dollars being spent on keeping companies from bankruptcy. Most of the kids I talked to were glad to have a hot meal that day. The biggest concern I heard anyone mention was whether they would have a warm enough blanket that night. Funny how spending a day just a twenty minute drive on the other side of the border, less than a 2 hour drive from my home, puts things into perspective. Jesus said there are really only 2 things you need to do: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.
So I continue to pray for my country, my city, my church and my family. Whether our country has turned a dangerous corner or not, I am not driving! God is still in control. God has not turned over the direction of our country to the previous president nor the next president, nor the president after that, and certainly not to me.
Lord, please forgive me. My prayer life has been very selfish. My attitude has been very “ME”. I have more in my fridge than I could possibly eat, and all I want is what I have “sacrificed” to you. Most (if not all) of which I don’t need! The cake…the pie…the cookies. I pray that this “sacrifice” as superficial as it seems, would be a sweet smelling aroma to you. Change my heart, Lord. Break my heart, for what breaks Yours.
Psalm 141:2 (MSG)
The Sweet Smell of Prayer.
Twice a year I do a Sweet Fast where I abstain from, well, sweets for an extended period of time. Usually during Lent and then again in the fall. Currently I am fasting from sweets for the month of November, breaking it with my favorite, pumpkin pie, at Thanksgiving. I am a little embarrassed to even be calling it a fast. It’s not like I am starving myself. I am not depriving myself of nutrition. I am just staying away from donuts, cake, pie, ice cream, cookies, soda etc. It isn’t even for a whole month as Thanksgiving comes on the 27th.
As I write this, we have a Costco GIANT pumpkin pie in the fridge that Laura bought not knowing I was fasting from sweets. We also have the most awesome chocolate chip cookies (next to Mrs. Switzer’s) that our neighbor brought over, AND left over birthday cake from my nephew’s birthday party that he just had to share with our family. Not to mention a case of my favorite Tasty Kakes (Philly’s equivalent to Little Debbie’s) – that my mom shipped out to me along with other Phillies memorabilia. I have done total fasts before. I have done Daniel fasts (fruits and veggies) for an extended period of time. But the one that wears me down the most is the Sweet Fast. I didn’t realize my daily ritual at 10:00 am, 3:00 pm and 7:00 pm of going to the fridge and looking for something sweet - that is until now. I find myself standing in front of the fridge, looking inside and saying to myself “What am I doing?” The other night, while wishing I could devour a serving of Oreos (a serving of Oreos is defined by the single-serving wrapping, usually 3 servings per box) I thought I would try and switch from sweets to salt and finish off a bag of Cheetos. Legally, not breaking my fast but probably missing the whole point. Anyway, I realized that nothing could fill the “sweet” void. Not even a bowl of Honey Nut Cherrios. I know they are full of sugar, but they are not on my list of banned substances.
Today is November 10th, and already I have found myself on two occasions this month, while spending time in prayer for our country, city, church, and my family, bursting out in uncontrollable tears. “Where did THAT come from?” Wiping away the tears. “I hope no one saw me!” Ironically, in my morning devotions I am currently in the book of Jeremiah…how fitting! Initially as I read Jeremiah, I thought, how odd to be crying for your country. What would make me cry for my country? No, I didn’t cry because Obama won the election. (Personally I don’t think McCain OR Obama would make a good president but that’s another issue). Jeremiah wept for his country partially because of the current (backslidden) status of Israel. But I think Jeremiah also wept because he knew that the more he preached “thus said Jehovah”, the more the people would rebel. They didn’t want to hear what Jeremiah was telling them! Their rejection of God was reaching a fevered pitch. The anger, hate, intolerance had boiled over and would no longer be contained. While Jeremiah was “tolerated” in the past, now he would pay for his “hate-speech”. I think this is why I weep for our country. Not so much that America has turned its back on God, rather that America has turned a new corner. Open hostility towards God and His Church. No longer are Christian values accepted or even “tolerated”. Just last week, protestors in fits of rage, disrupted church services, declaring God’s message of hope as “hate speech”. America’s passive rejection of God has turned the corner and is heading full speed ahead lining up the church in the cross-hairs of their scopes. Do I cry because my freedom to gather with like-minded believers is threatened? No. Do I cry because my freedom to express my beliefs is no longer accepted or even tolerated by those who say they preach tolerance? No. Do I cry because as a pastor, I could be labeled a preacher of hate and perhaps jailed much like Jeremiah? No. I cry because there is a world of people who want nothing to do with God. And God, being a loving God and not forcing Himself on anyone, will grant their wish, for all of eternity.
Presently, this is the worst economy since the Great Depression (probably worse given the greater number of people). Twice, the majority of California has voted to preserve traditional marriage and the attack on marriage has only intensified. Corporate and government corruption. Hundred’s of billions of dollars in bailouts. Personal debt reaching an all time high. National debt spiraling out of control. And the proposed solution? More debt. America is on the verge of imploding much like ancient Rome. Economically, morally, spiritually. I don’t cry for the condition of our country. I cry for the path it has chosen.
I pray for our country as it turns a new corner. I pray for our city as it deteriorates. I pray for the church as it goes underground. I pray for my family, that we would stand our ground. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
I find fear creeping in. Yet I know, perfect love casts out all fear. I want to run, and realize the safest place is in the palm of His hand. I want to scream, but no one hears.
How exciting to see biblical prophecy happening before our eyes! I don’t think that is what Jeremiah thought while sitting in prison.
Yes, I want to serve the Lord. But I am realizing how selfish I am in wanting to serve Him - conditionally. …that You bless my family…that You prosper my family…that You protect my family…that You would grow “our” church…that You would place honorable men and women in positions of authority and leadership in our city, state, and country. I find myself wining toward God. I want it my way…I want a Tasty Kake!
November 11, 2008
I spent most of today in Tecate Mexico playing with kids at a daycare facility our family and church support. 150 kids come to the daycare before or after school to have a safe place to stay and at least one good meal daily. I try to visit the day care several times a year. Most of the kids know me as Pastor Loco (Crazy Pastor). I try to get down on their level, play their games, have fun with them, and let them know it is OK to be a kid. Many of these boys and girls do not have a father figure, and the ones that do are not positive. So just being an adult male who spends time with them is something they don’t experience too often.
None of the children I spoke to could tell me the name of the new president of the United States. None of them knew anything about the propositions that divide our country, the plummeting stock market, or the hundreds of billions of dollars being spent on keeping companies from bankruptcy. Most of the kids I talked to were glad to have a hot meal that day. The biggest concern I heard anyone mention was whether they would have a warm enough blanket that night. Funny how spending a day just a twenty minute drive on the other side of the border, less than a 2 hour drive from my home, puts things into perspective. Jesus said there are really only 2 things you need to do: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.
So I continue to pray for my country, my city, my church and my family. Whether our country has turned a dangerous corner or not, I am not driving! God is still in control. God has not turned over the direction of our country to the previous president nor the next president, nor the president after that, and certainly not to me.
Lord, please forgive me. My prayer life has been very selfish. My attitude has been very “ME”. I have more in my fridge than I could possibly eat, and all I want is what I have “sacrificed” to you. Most (if not all) of which I don’t need! The cake…the pie…the cookies. I pray that this “sacrifice” as superficial as it seems, would be a sweet smelling aroma to you. Change my heart, Lord. Break my heart, for what breaks Yours.
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