party

This Sunday the pastor returned. This time the service started early to make time afterwards for the party. The pastor has been gone for a long time in America so I expected the party to be large and exuberant. I didn’t expect what actually happened. Worship started as usual. Dancing, singing, kids wanting to sit with me. And as we listened to one worship leader expounding on prayer, a growing commotion outside slowly grabbed the attention of the church. Shouting, yelling, celebrating. The parade of Ugandans in brightly colored clothing poured into the courtyard outside. The speaker announced the arrival of the pastor. The parade entered the front of the church to shouts and singing. So many colors on the dresses. The singing people drowned out the loud speakers. The parade circled around the front of the church. Around and around singing “praise God, thankyou jesus.” Or something like that. The woman next to me was kind enough to translate what we were singing. The only reason I figured out which one of the paraders was the pastor was from the way he held himself. Almost as if this welcome was too much for him. I don’t even think the body language was intentional. Right after his parade came the Americans. Somehow I was asked to come up front and sit with the other Americans as one of the special guests. Guess what my question was? I asked if I could take the kids who were sitting with me. So me and the 2 little girls were escorted up the front seats. The girls took turns sitting on my lap. We watched various people or groups singing in honor of their pastor returning. One woman was very good, the pastor and his wife got up and sang with her. The man next to me informed me that this woman was their daughter. So I took a picture of the public reunion of a family. Reverend Dorsey gave an excellent sermon.

I wanted to tell these people that before that morning I didn’t think they could express anymore joy in their singing or dance with more feeling. I was wrong. All I could think about was David leading his people and the ark back into Jerusalem. Imagine the rejoicing. Imagine the love and joy. Do you ever feel so happy you could just get up, shout and dance for joy? These people experienced this, and they gave vent to these feelings. They wouldn’t stop praising God for the safe return of their beloved pastor. Oh that Americans would show a tenth of the joy these people expressed. Quit worrying about how you look and just dance for joy. The day was about the pastor. Even the kids knew that.

The service ended, but most people stayed in waiting for the party to start and the lunch to be served. Us Americans went out to the courtyard among the kids for some air and a little quieter area. There were easily 100 kids in the courtyard, all trying to touch one of the Americans. I started taking pictures of the kids. They all crowded up to the camera. So I would get a group of them and tell them to stay, back up a few feet and try to take a picture before they all surged forward. Then I would show them a picture of them. So much fun to these kids. I got several pics of the other Americans entertaining groups of kids just by their looks. I spent some time coaxing kids away from each of the Americans so they could have a reprieve from the constant touching. And I found that several of the kids are ticklish. Evil grin.

The church service ended at about noon. We finally ate at 4. Until that time, the people were singing and dancing or watching others sing and dance. For 4 hours. Wow these people love celebrating. Finally we came back in to eat. The table with the guests of honor were served first. A woman with a pitcher and basin went around so we could wash our hands. Then the plates of freshly cooked Ugandan food appeared. I could see some of the servers getting worried till one arrived with a small plate of forks for most of the Americans. They hadn’t figured on anyone needing to eat with anything besides their hands, so they had to go find forks somewhere. Seeing the shortage of forks, I opted to eat with my hands. Pastor Wilson was so surprised and kept asking if I was ok eating like that. About 5 o clock rolls around and some Americans have a flight to catch. The rest of us piggy-back on that excuse to leave the festivities early. Church lasted 7 ½ hours for me that Sunday. Don’t get me wrong, I love celebrations. Just not for 7 hours in full view of the congregation.

Welcome home pastor Wilson. Your flock missed you. Cant you tell?