First Easter in Rwanda

The Rwandan adventure has begun, and in a most significant way on Easter. I arrived in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, at 8 p.m. on Saturday in the dark and a heavy raining, but, as I’m told, rain is a sign of God’s blessing, so I was blessed as I arrived. I was welcomed by a representative of the EPR, the Presbyterian Church in Rwanda and his driver, who brought an open pickup truck to haul my 9 suitcases. Praise God that they all arrived. After some maneuvering, we got as many as possible in the cab of the truck and placed the rest in the back to weather the rain for the short drive to the church’s guest house. The guest house is across town from the airport. As we drove, all I could see were the lights of the city and experience the feel the hilly terrain. I began to understand why Rwanda is called “the land of a thousand hills.” Everything is either on a hill or in a valley. I saw that the next day.

 

Easter dawned clear and bright. I had agreed, via email, to preach at the 11 a.m. English worship service at a church next to the guest house. It is actually all a part of the same compound, along with the Church headquarters’ offices on the other side of the guest house. The pastor sent an elder, Annanee, to escort me to the service. As I waited for her, I could hear singing just across the wall from the guest house, so I sat on the porch in front of my room to listen. The language was Kinyarwanda, but the music had the same “feel” as Chichewa. I felt at home. When Annanee arrived to give me the time frame for the morning, I made arrangements to sit in the Kinyarwanda service until it was time to go to the English service. I was delighted to hear the singing and to watch the dancing of the worship. Several choirs were in national wear, the women in long wraps of silk like material in bright colors, tied over one shoulder and flowing around them. I was sorry that I didn’t think to take my camera, but I enjoyed the sight and sound of national worship. I don’t understand the language yet, but I did recognize a few words – Jesus, Christ and hallelujah. That is enough for any Easter morning. That and the joy needed no translation.

 

About 10:45, the pastor came to get me from that service to prepare for the English service. It was in a small chapel on the second floor of the church building. The praise team was already singing when we arrived. I walked in to the refrain of “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High,” one of my favorite praise songs. The service was much the same format as we used in Malawi, so it all felt very comfortable. The congregation was small, only about 50 people, mostly foreigners or those who had studied in English speaking countries, since English has only been the official international language in Rwanda for 2 years. There were folks in worship from UK, Netherlands, Kenya, Uganda, US and Rwanda. It felt a bit like an early Pentecost. But the music was Easter and resurrection. That a joy to sing “He Lives” with such an international group, knowing that the gospel is not for one people or culture, but for the world. For me, in a most personal way this resurrection day was most significant. After the abrupt departure from Malawi and time of discerning God’s direction for me from there, it was a great affirmation to begin with Easter worship in Rwanda.  What a way to begin ministry in a new place - on the wings of resurrection.