For some reason, darkness falls more quickly here at the Equator than it does in North America. It is not that late – only an hour or two after sunset – and the only description that comes to mind is the old saying, “Blacker than the insides of a cat’s belly”. It is so dark that the blackness has a rich, velvety texture — you can feel the darkness. Which makes the display overhead all that much more blazing. The heavens most certainly declare the glory of God – especially way out here in the desert.
We are 50 kilometers from the nearest blacktop road. There are no stores, gas stations, or cell phone service. No TV, newspapers, or electricity … and little water. We are in the Bush. You would think that the level of sophistication amongst the people who sparsely inhabit this place would be rudimentary, but I have found them to be surprisingly aware, engaged, and intelligent. Like the doctor whose place we are staying at – an Army medical doctor for years who chose to come home to this place to be with his people, the Massai.
We are camping inside his compound. (Actually, I’m sleeping inside the house because I’m too old to sleep on the ground, but the others are out in the tents.) There is a barrier of thorned acacia branches that make a prickling 3 foot wall around the compound to keep out predators like lions, leopards and hyenas. Yeah, nice place Africa. Great place for the kids to play. But hey, I have been reassured that it’s safe. The lions only come down in the rainy season. And the leopards…?
I tell folks that the landscape and arid climate is much like Texas, but that’s not exactly true. There is faint wildness to the feel of this place that is distinctively Africa. Almost like a sandy, raw and wild edge that is felt rather than seen. Perhaps it’s from the exotic adventure books that I read as a kid which gives this place a certain flavor that is unlike any other place in the world. Imagination or not, it certainly feels different here.
The Massai who are here favor bright reds and yellows in their dress – a sharp contrast to the muted colors of the desert. But while they may be dressed in the bizarre costumes of the Massai, living in small Hobbit-like mud huts and cut off from the world, they do possess a piercing hunger for the things of God. It’s as if they have shed the layer of worldliness like you would a layer of clothing, and now have a clearer and a cleaner exposure to the things that are not of this world.
There is none of the “churchiness” that you find in the churches back home, especially the evangelical churches. This is straight stuff, clear focus, no frills religion. It strikes me funny that many church people would probably say, “What ‘churchliness’?” If they could see it, they wouldn’t be it. These Christians aren’t exposed to “church”. What they have is faith and that’s what sustains them in this dry spiritual desert.
I have brought Bibles here – both the written and the talking radio kind for those who cannot read. It is like showers of rain in the desert to them. You can’t describe what it is like to see them get their own Bible – their very own! One that is not ripped and held together with tape and rubber bands! One that is not shared by 30 or so people in the church!
Water in the desert. Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it. Water is used in the Bible as an analogy for the Word of God. Not only as a cleansing agent in Ephesians 5:26 and the laver of brass in Exodus, but also as a producer of fruit and a giver of life, a picture of the outpouring of the Spirit of God, and the latter rain. The drought of this parched desert makes it desperate for that water of life, while the worldly lushness of a fat and saturated land is not as focused, driven, or thirsty for the same.
Just a guess here, but we may be surprised at how many of them make it to Heaven, and how many of us will not.
Brother Dale, Revivalfire.org