My Impressions of one Church in Uganda

Sunday for most Ugandans means going to Church.  Church is not as in the West lasting a mere hour; here Church is serious, at least two hours or longer.  Church is a serious matter here, there are thousands and thousands of churches.  A few are rather unique and this is a visit and my impressions to a rather unique and one of a kind church in Uganda.

Following is an attendance at a church unlike any other I had ever attended in Uganda. 

Church started at 11 am but being the punctual one that I am, I arrived at 10:30.  Parking was a breeze. As I entered, I passed a line-up of people with jerry cans I thought it was nice of the church to give water to the surrounding community…Little did I know. 

I found a seat on the side in the upstairs auditorium; the place was almost full, prayers coming over the speaker system from a previous service. The church was un-pretentious, wooden ceiling, wooden benches, very utilitarian, I liked it.

The TV monitors flashed a picture of the preacher. Maybe the people forgot what he looked like was my thought, not bad since someone visiting such as myself would know who the Pastor was and not mistake him for someone else.

The announcements were made, well they would have qualified for a church service in most western churches lasted well over a half hour with instructions for what to do with children and more including invaluable ones as to how parents could protect their children from child-abductions.  Again a great plus Some other service times were announced where “The man of God” would pray for the needs of the people.  The usherette came with a guestbook and had me sign, left out my phone number, I just like to attend church and watch quietly the first time I attend church.

Attendants walked around selling airmail envelopes that I figures out must be for the offering to come, others were selling snacks, soda and water…different but there must be some good reason, I was to find out later as to why there were snacks and soda.

The worship started, it was Palm Sunday and all except me had palms in their hands.  The music was nice, mixture of songs in Luganda and English, people singing, people dancing and waving their palms in the air. I just swayed along in my semi-conservative fashion…smiling…not knowing what to expect next.

Next was the testimony time with people sharing how they were healed, delivered from demons, were able to have children, how they received visas and free tickets to the UK...all after “the man of God” had prayed for them.  I liked the testimonies, thought the emphasis was a bit too much on the mortal rather then the immortal one. 

More singing, more testimonies, snacks and drinks being sold and of course, the airmail giving envelopes.  People walking by with freshly filled bottles of Holy Water from the holy well downstairs; everyone was exhorted to get some.  Apparently, it is used to sprinkle at home, to drink, it is prayed over and includes some secret spices, and I read that it had been analyzed by two American doctors…but never found the results on the internet though I have read where people claimed they were healed of various diseases including one man of leprosy as he sprinkled the water on himself. (I am not a skeptic but attempt to be open in life, since when I have been closed I have missed a lot and after all many Catholics attest to miracles as the result of being sprinkled with holy water, I simply had never seen people carry it in such large quantities.)

“The man of God” appeared and pandemonium broke out. I thought since it was Palm Sunday, that maybe Jesus had just appeared, riding in on a donkey as people waved their palms…greeting him with Hosannas but then Ugandans put a lot into greeting someone, probably a lot more than we do in the west. Oh well... 

A tall, handsome and slim man who appeared youthful got upon the plain and simple platform.  He was eloquent, soft spoken, seemed gentle, had a sense of humor, seemed easy to like and persuasive.  He preached in a style different from most Ugandan preachers. He did not shout and scream.  He preached in a quiet manner…about Christ raising a dead boy from the dead, using it as picture how Christ can raise your dead business, your dead life, can raise you from your sickness that otherwise might result in death, how Christ raise you from failure and make you a success…how your dead wallet can be filled with wealth.  (For me who chooses to livesa simple life, well it went against my grain, but then he was preaching to people with different needs than mine, people mired in poverty, illness and broken hearts.)

The sermon had been one of the shortest events thus far and we were now approaching well past 2:30. I was praying that maybe Jesus could come and deliver us all from the hard benches, from the lack of space, squeezed onto my little perch called a bench in between two women and every time one of them got excited, the palm branch hit my face….oh well, it was soon over the time for “the man of God” to pray for the people. 

It took place in the lower auditorium, but we witnessed all on the TV monitors.  Each candidate for prayer had a large placard detailing the ailment and for how long.  “The man of God”  would lay hands on the ailing or demon possessed person, pray, sometimes command with a shout, and pronounce them healed, some man who could not move before danced around, a woman was delivered from witchcraft as her red wig flew off.  She fell to the ground slain in the spirit…

“The man of God” came across amazing, part preacher, part Dr. Phil, part David Letterman,  moved from person to person mixing folksy humor with prayer, with scriptures, there was humility, seeming spiritual insight, practical advice,  the audience loved it.  

There were hundreds that were prayed for, I was thankful that at times he would pray for a group.  Prayer time was over, “the man of God” disappeared, someone else started preaching about giving, snacks were being sold and so were drinks and last minute envelopes. Even I was tempted to have a snack, but my Germanic sense of propriety kept me from a snack. I now realized why snacks were being sold. It was now 5:30 PM and we had been here since morning…People were hungry and thirsty, it made sense.

The offering lasted one hour. It included preaching about giving, praying for what you wanted, it would have some American TV Preachers jealous.  By now the shopping bags were overflowing with those airmail envelopes.  People were still waving their palm branches and giving envelopes in the air, praying and shouting and weeping.  (Reverend Ike of old came to mind who used to say “It is not the love of money that is the root of all evil, it is the lack of it.)  But then this is a different culture from mine and unlike some churches, there was nothing in English about "no coins" as I had heard in other churches. 

“The man of God” appeared again preaching once again. He gave a call to prayer for Uganda to avoid the world financial crisis and to pray for America.  It gave a very simple explanation for the current world situation and I thought, well maybe he reads "the Economist."   

A new announcement flashed on the monitors. I was hoping it would say “go home”…but it said “confirmation”…hmmm…well it was not the confirmation of my youth in the Lutheran church…it was the confirmation of individual prophecies that “the man of God” had previously given to different people who were now ready to testify. 

Several were given; sometimes flash back on the TV to the actual time of the prophecy in the past. One man who was single was told that he would marry a woman now in the audience after he had shared.  “The man of God” matched them up right then there. No one seemed to find it odd, well I did. (This has been one of points where the pastor has been criticized by other pastors.)

It was time to go… I got up and walked out.  What awaited me outside the auditorium was amazing. The hallways were filled with men, mostly men just listening, no TV there. I made my way past them, the steps filled with men and women. The lower auditorium packed with people of all ages, except children, the line-up for the holy water was still there and so was my car.

There are 11 million born again Pentecostals in Uganda.  My question has and is this - If there are so many born again Christians, so many evangelicals in the Church of Uganda (8 million), why is corruption in the society prevailing and growing that even Mr. Buturo, the Minister of Ethics, continuously addresses this problem? 

I think I saw some of the reasons why that greed, corruption exist here as elsewhere, when “the man of God” held up a Bible to the people and whispered “take what you need, take what you want.”  As I have learned through the experiences as a Christian, one cannot pick and choose what one wants and leave out the rest.  You have to eat the whole meal, and sometimes life brings tough choices...but I am not alone. 

“The Man of God,” who calls himself a prophet is missing something…He is not telling the people who flock to him in the thousands, that Jesus is not a guarantee to the easy life.  That Jesus is not a guarantee or formula or door to wealth and health…The Jesus that I know simply promised that as we faced life with all of its experiences we would not be alone, the door to life and that life-forever with him…there are miracles in this world of ours, the greatest is to have His presence as I face another day...jon 

P.S. I am glad that I came here on that Palm Sunday.  I learned a lot...it was enriching...is it my kind of church? There might a be time for it, I visited to experience a church I had heard a lot about...I normally attend one or two churches in Kampala that are just as vibrant but have a bit of different focus.

Easter Sunday I spent in a church for children from slums, it was festive, there was singing, dancing, preaching by different people.  It was a most joyous affairs and put both Sundays into perspective....at the end of the day it is all about one thing put so eloquently by a little girl as she asked me on Easter Sunday in a broken English "Is Jesus in your Heart?" hmmm...from Kampala...another church this Sunday...jon