Sunday Service and Presidential Visit

On Sunday I had the pleasure and honor of worshipping with an African church. I left feeling as if I was at home. Now, I guess that this is how I should feel wherever I gather with believers to worship God, but it still caught me off guard. And oh, they know how to worship! Where has this little church been my whole life!

We walked to a church in the neighbourhood that a few other Mercyshipers attend in our church clothes. I had on my sandals, cargo pants, undershirt, and a shirt with buttons to be proper. After weaving through a few of the small dirt streets we arrived at the building of the church. There were many friendly greetings and introductions, and then we were inside. As a sign of immense hospitality, we were invited (well, almost directed) to sit up in the front on the stage. Fortunately, a few of my new friends knew to politely decline and to insist on sitting in the back. And then, the service began.

I was so impressed with the manner with which we worshipped. The people were so excited to be there. The singing came from the soul and was powerful. There was much dancing accompanying the singing. A variety of people spoke and were also involved in the gathering. And again, the hospitality was remarkable.

At the beginning of the service, brand new visitors were asked to stand up. About fifteen Mercyshipers and ten locals stood up. What happened next still makes me smile upon recollection. We were asked to come up front. So, we did. Then, the entire church began to form a line to come and greet us and shake our hands as they sang and danced, worshipping God. I shook everyone’s hand in the church in this warm welcoming, except for the cute little kids who were a little shy to offer a hand up. What hospitality!

The offering was done in a similar way. We danced and sang as we all filed by the offering basket up front. We were joyful givers!

From all of this singing and dancing, it became a little toasty in our church. Add to this that it seems to always be hot here, that I was wearing long pants, and that I’m from Michigan, and you have one sweaty pig! The sweat that dripped off of my hair onto my cheek tickled as it trickled down. My back seemed to form a small river of the stuff too. By the end of the service, there was a Scott-sized bum print left on the wooden bench where I sat. It was an honor to worship with the body of Christ here in Liberia. I will look forward to next Sunday when I will be able to go again.

A few UN troops guard the dock

The motorcade arrives

The President stepping out of the car

In other news, the president of Liberia visited our vessel today! President Madame Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf came for a tour of the M/V Africa Mercy and to meet the crew. Security was quite tight! There were UN troops, police, and other government agents protecting the surrounding area. I am getting used to seeing assault rifles all over the place, but it still perks my attention when I see them. (After typing this last sentence, I looked down out the window to see a UN troop riding a children’s bicycle down the dock that resembles a Big Wheel with his assault rifle casually sitting in his lap.) Anyway, I was sitting directly in front on her, five rows back when she spoke to us! She set aside the speech that was written for her, to address us personally. She thanked us deeply for the work that we are doing, and that we do it in the way that we do. She impressed me. She was very kind, gracious, and articulate as she spoke to us. She is a brilliant woman and seems to be doing good things for this nation.