AP

Nothing is fair

Nothing seems right. It’s not fair that most of the people I see around me live with pressing, daily, dire needs – needs of absolute necessity. It applies all around me – to all I’ve passed by, to everything I’ve seen and heard for three weeks. No one should have to live like this. The poverty is alarming. Theirs is a daily battle to find food for the table each day. I’m annoyed at how quickly I have to pass them by.

The best I can do is pull up to a stall where ladies are trying to sell overly-ripe tomatoes and then I’ll give them ‘overs’ for them. Yesterday, at the filling station there was a young woman with her month-old baby sitting in the dust at side of road selling her bananas for K1 each, (~8 cents). I bought one and gave her K10 for it. She was delighted as she walked on, food balanced on head. But her delight lasts only for a moment – a day at most.

I’m sad about their circumstances, and my compassion leads me to stop and help that woman and baby sitting in a dustbowl from morning ‘til sunset. But then I realise that even if I do stop and assist her for one day … what about everyone else? And, on the entire 14-hour drive between Chasefu and Lusaka, I would have fleetingly passed by 10,000 similar people without even a glance.

I’ve just concluded my intensive teaching stint at Chasefu Theological College and the long, tedious and difficult drive creates swirling thoughts and raises difficult questions. In the light of pitiful scenes that constantly assault my sensitivities and break my heart, what value is teaching church history? Do I stop at every corner to help the poor or press on with nurturing 15 future pastors for the church.

The answer is clear: the training of pastors at Zambia’s Presbyterian training college will have a wide-reaching effect on this nation. It is better to give myself to three weeks teaching and mentoring of pastors, reminding them of the preciousness of the Saviour who has called them, and of the power and purpose of Christ’s church on earth than stopping at every roadside stall to hand out donations.

Of course, our commitment continues to care for the poor. The Proverbs say: “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord …”. But there is a higher calling alongside this with blessings for not only this life but for eternity as well.

The smoke of a thousand villages

There really are a thousand villages out there in the bush, near the Luangwa River and throughout the whole north-east regions of Lumezi, Lundazi, Emusa, Chasefu, Chama, Eginchikeni. And the only Christian church to reach them is our partner church CCAP Zambia Synod.

I’ve seen the value of this denomination. She will never be a big church. She’ll never compare with the big city churches of Lusaka where thousands attend in massive buildings. She’ll never be a church of renown and reputation in the eyes of Zambia.

Her strength is in the bush, along remote tracks where no vehicle can reach but the bike. She has hundreds of CCAP prayer houses hidden from sight, meeting in roughly hewn wooden structures, in villages where lifestyle and homes have not altered for the last 150 years. Yet in each one God’s Word is heard, singing of praise to the Almighty echoes. God is honoured, lives saved.

That’s why the PCA supports CCAP Zambia Synod. That’s why men like Bob Thomas, Corrie Nel, Steve Jones, Andrew (and Suzy) Vines, and Graham Nicholson have given of themselves to train and nurture their pastors. That’s why we support Chasefu Theological College.

Like David Livingstone before us, I wish there were enough lifetimes to explore the smoke of a thousand villages.

– John P Wilson