The Most High God

Ethiopia is a religiously diverse country, but a majority Christian country - with about 45% Ethiopian Orthodox, 20% Protestant and 30% Muslim.

The Orthodox majority is obvious with temples of all sizes spaced regularly throughout the country side. But, apparently the church likes to build it's temples on high ground, in places difficult to access. On top of inhospitable rocks. In places that require huge effort to reach.

Even if, with great effort and dedication, you managed to reach the temple, it is only accessible when a Priest is available. And then, when the Priest is present to allow you access to God's house, the worship, prayer and teaching are conducted in an archaic language, Ge'ez, (the root of Amharic and Tigrinya, the major Ethiopian languages) reserved for the Church, and one which the vast majority of people do not understand.


I wonder what that says about how God is perceived and approached? These are just my thoughts, but it seems to suggest a God that is omnipresent, but distant, unapproachable, inhospitable and protected. A God that can only be accessed by an elite class of educated men, who interpret and represent the mind of God to the masses. A God who can only be approached through an elect intermediary.

Even when there was an (ornate) church in the middle of a town the doors were closed, the surrounding fence high and outer gates closed. People stood outside the gates facing the closed church and prayed through the iron barriers. It seems that the church has gone to great lengths (it must have been a nightmare to build churches in those locations) to keep itself, and by extension God, at a safe distance from God's people.

I often wonder where God is in my line of work. When I hear people's stories of unfair circumstance and see the conditions they live in and their lack of resources I wonder how God can allow such inequity - or at times in fact whether in fact God's attention has been diverted elsewhere.

It is usually in these same times and places and when I stop looking for explanation and rationalisation, that I see God most clearly. I see God in the generous hospitality of the family that has little or nothing and yet shares everything; I see God in the smiling eyes of the 10 year old girl that carries 25kg of water 3km twice a day; I see God in the eyes of mischief of the 6 year old boy learning to care for the sheep and goats. I see God in places and people that are far from sanitised and elite; I see God in the muck and the commonplace of life.

Today I saw God as I shared bread and (organic white) honey with a community of Tigrinya people from a common plate, sitting awkwardly under a cloth shelter beside a rock and mud wall in the middle of nowhere Ethiopia.

God is very real, an ever present help in times of drought and scarcity; God is not distant, aloof and unapproachable - God is all there is!

The church (that's you and me) needs to come down from the high places, break down the fences, open the doors and come out of the safe sterility of our comfort and sit in the dirt alongside others to share bread and honey.

[By contrast; the local Mosque is in town, the gates and doors are always open and people are welcome. The common water point is accessible to all and the grounds around the place of worship are a community meeting place. Just saying!] 

Mobile Church

Today was the Sabbath, in Afghanistan anyway and I had the opportunity to meet with a small group of Christians here in Herat.

Obviously, security is an issue for all internationals in Afghanistan and there are a number of measures taken to do all that can be done to make sure that people are safe. Office routes and times are varied, VHF radios become attachments and the phonetic alphabet, including call signs, becomes common language.

Around the city small groups of people meet covertly: a Mobile Church, a Mobile Bar and who knows what else. The location rotates and can change at the last moment. The details are known only by the members, and confirmation that the group will meet is kept fluid. But this morning, the first day of the weekend – all the call signs aligned and a few of us travelled out to a large house, surrounded by a 15’, razor wire topped, concrete wall in the city to meet for worship and fellowship.

Behind the wall was a very old, large, typically Herat, house. In the Persian/Tajik style it had high ceilings, large corridors and thick mud brick walls that hold the heat, or the cold. A beautifully lush green grass square drew the focus of the back yard. The compound walls were lined by blossoming almond trees heavy with scent and bees, the sky was amazingly blue and clear and the sun hot. Spring in Herat is beautiful!

I sat with a group of 12 people; two Mennonites from Memphis, a couple of Southern Baptists, a Methodist from the UK, a Presbyterian from Glasgow, a couple of AOG from California, and a Salvo from Melbourne. Together, surrounded by the beauty of God’s work, we sat on cushions on the floor, in a closed room, so that the sound would not carry. We sang “How great is our God” and other songs of worship before being led in a study of Psalm 19 by a young Dr, a woman, a Mennonite (who would not be allowed to lead Bible study at home).

An amazingly unique opportunity: the anti-cultural dynamics; the diversity of nationality, denomination, agency; the secure environment and the presence of taboo gender roles (not just in an Afghan, but a U.S. Mennonite context) all made me think that this was just a small part of what God wants the church to look like.

A group of misfits, meeting together to be encouraged and equipped to go out into a hostile environment to serve, accept and love all people, even some who are openly hostile, and by their actions attempt to partner in the work of building strong, safe and supportive relationships. Sound familiar, interesting, scary, mad or attractive?