Visit to Kumasi and Isaac gets saved

 

I recently took a trip to Kumasi, Ghana to visit a team of missionaries there.  It’s about a 5-hour bus ride, but thankfully they sent a young Ghanaian woman down to ‘fetch’ me and bring me back because I would not have known what to do if the bus would have had troubles.  The bus was actually pretty nice.  It was much cleaner than the average taxi (okay, so that’s not really saying much, but there weren’t any chickens or goats on board), and it had A/C so strong I had to turn mine off!  I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been cold in the last 3 months, and two of those times were going to Kumasi and returning from Kumasi! :)   

They do have things called tro-tros (that is a total guess at the spelling) that are basically like a 15 passenger van with a hatch-type back door.  Usually there’s about 20 people or more in there, beside whatever else has been strapped onto the top and what is hanging out the hatch.  It’s an interesting sight to behold, and I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough to try one of those things.  My personal favorite is when another missionary says, “Hey, can I give you a ride to….?” 

But back to the bus.  I had no idea that there were ever movies made in Ghana, but unfortunately they are.  For the entire ride there and the entire ride back (with the exception of about 40 minutes some guy stood up to preach) they played these cheesy, Ghana made movies with lots of screaming, violence and other things I didn’t want to look at or to listen.  Praise the Lord for my IPod that has over 200 sermons, 500 songs and the entire Bible on it!  While at times I still had to put my hands over my ears to block the sounds from the movie and to hear what I was listening to, I was thankful the movies were in the local dialects so I couldn’t understand them if I did hear anything.

One thing I noticed both going and coming is that almost every village has a ‘church’ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) and Jehovah Witnesses.  We may not like their doctrine, but they are more faithful to what they believe than most folks who have the truth.

While I was at Kumasi I helped in a small ACE Christian school scoring paces.  Both the missionary kids (MKs) and Ghanaian church members children make up the student body.  This was my first experience with ACE, but I think it would be great material to help Isaac learn to read.  Currently, I’m using an A Beka reader, but I wish I had more pictures.  Isaac doesn’t know the English words to a lot of things, so sometimes I’m just busy trying to teach him what a word means.  Otherwise it is nonsensical to him.  Beside that, the reader has animals meeting one another like people do.  Try explaining that to someone who probably has been exposed to animistic beliefs! 

Speaking of Isaac, I would like to tell you about his recent conversion.  Since trying to teach him to read he has been more willing to talk to me.  Before, he was so quiet that I didn’t know if he understood anything I said or not.  Now, I realize that he’s probably watched enough Hollywood movies that he understands more than I have given him credit. 

Anyhow, I was given the Firm Foundations material that presents the Bible chronologically.  Unfortunately, I asked for the wrong series – there is evidently a series for Western cultures and another for more tribal cultures.  But I have still found the material very helpful.  In particular the sketches that accompany the Bible accounts of the Old Testament are great when you’re working with someone that is illiterate.  It helps them picture those things to which you are referring.  For Isaac and me, the sketch of Cain offering fruit from the garden and Abel preparing to cut the throat of a lamb was a tremendous help. 

Last Tuesday Isaac was late getting to work.  That is unheard of for Isaac.  He has never been late in the 3 months I’ve been here.  All I could picture in my mind was him laying dead on the side of the road after being hit by a car or something (he rides his bike to work each day).  The Holy Spirit just pricked my heart that I had not fully given him the gospel.  Once before he was in my presence as I gave the gospel to someone else, but I was not addressing him per se as I didn’t think he understood at the time.  When Isaac showed up about 40 minutes late he explained that he had overslept and got here as fast as possible. 

We have been doing a Bible lesson four evenings a week after his reading lesson, so that evening I was very pressed in my spirit to present the gospel, even though we had only gone through Cain and Abel in the accounts of the Bible.  For two hours we talked about how Adam and Eve tried to hide their sin and cover it up with their own works, and how Cain tried to offer the works of his own hands as well, but that these efforts and offerings were not satisfactory to God.  God demanded that blood be shed as a payment for sin.  It isn’t enough that sin is forgiven – a righteous judge cannot simply forgive a criminal for his transgression.  The sin debt must be paid.  After I brought Isaac to the understanding that he and I both are sinners, eternally separated from God because of our sin and deserving of eternity in Hell, I showed him the sketch of Cain and Abel.  I reminded him that the works of our own hands cannot satisfy God.  I asked him, “Isaac, can you die in my place to pay for my sin?”  He immediately said that he would!  But then I asked him, “Isaac, what about your sin?  You can’t die for me because you owe the same debt I owe.  Do you know someone that can die in our place, someone whose death is acceptable to God because He has never sinned?”  He thought for a minute then looked up and said, “Jesus!”  Amen!!  That’s what I’m talking about!!  I then pointed back to the picture and asked him if he knew that Jesus was called the Lamb of God, and he said he knew that but he didn’t understand why.  I then explained to him while pointing at the picture of Abel with a knife to the lamb’s throat that Jesus was like a lamb that went to the slaughter, and that just as God accepted Abel’s sacrifice, He accepted Christ’s.  Shortly thereafter he placed his trust in Jesus Christ to pay his sin debt instead of trusting his own good works.  Praise the Lord!  Thanks to all who have prayed for him.

I started a near riot at a burial today.

I say burial because the actual funeral will be held at a later time.  My understanding is that the more important the individual that died, the longer they will take to bury him or her.  I was told one political leader was refrigerated for over a year before his burial and funeral, and to have a body refrigerated is quite expensive. 

Anyhow, the lady that was buried today was named Grace.  She was a member at the church where I attend, Mt. Calvary Baptist Church.  I really only met her a few times, but I noticed her coming into church as she had quite a pronounced limp.  She was older than most here, probably in her early 60’s, and she didn’t speak much English.  She died on Thursday and was buried on Saturday, which one of the older members stated was very disrespectful.

I attended the burial with an American missionary pastor and 5 Christian nationals, one of which was her sister-in-law.  The spiritual condition of the rest of those in attendance is unknown to me, but I was not impressed that it would be Christian. It was held in a village about 30 minutes from where I live, and where the church used to do some outreach. 

When we arrived the road into the village was blocked at the center of town – it was impossible to go past where the services would be held.  We were ushered to the town pavilion where many older men in their traditional dress were sitting and greeting one another.  It seemed before they could take a seat they must present themselves before the others and exchange greetings, and then they would sit on the bench that encircled the inside of the pavilion.  There was a family pole, which was a stick about 5 feet tall with 3 carved figures of animals perched on a small board at the top.  The largest of the animals looked like an elk or reindeer, which was curious to me as I’m sure they’ve never seen such an animal here. 

In the pavilion there was also a soundboard set up and a DJ playing ‘music’ on a set of 14 speakers stacked over 6 feet tall.  The speakers were set up next to a canopied area that had been draped with lace and plastic flowers.  Under that canopy was a brass bed with the dead body, posed as though she were taking a nap.  There were plastic flowers across the foot of the bed, and for the most part only the women would approach to view the body.  On either side of the bed sat a woman waving hankies over the body.  At first I thought they were saying prayers or doing something ‘spiritual’, but then I realized as I was waving the flies away from me that they were probably waving the flies off the body.  Then I thought about the fact that the body had more than likely been laid out like that the evening she died, and several someones had probably spent the last day and a half trying to keep flies and such off of her.  Wow – I don’t know who normally gets appointed to such a job, but I can’t even imagine what that was like in such heat. 

The music was so loud the vibrations literally physically hurt my heart and ears.  If someone had problems with irregular heart rhythms, this would have really set them off!  I had no idea how long that would last but I started praying, ‘Please Lord, do something!  Protect us from this ungodly stuff!’  About 15 minutes later the music stopped, and then some women with about 30 of the village children came into the town square beating plastic fuel containers, boxes and anything else they could get their hands on, dancing and chanting.  They danced in front of the bed, weaved in amongst the people, went down the street, came back and repeated this a few times.  It was then that someone told us the power went off and the DJ wasn’t able to play his music any longer.  Glory hallelujah!!  God most certainly did something!

In the midst of all this goats and chickens wandered in and out, and flies were in gross abundance.  There was one goat in particular that I thought was going to have a kid in the middle of the service. I have never seen an animal so pregnant!  It was almost wider than it was long, and I was really wishing I had my camera.

There were 2 other canopies with plastic chairs for those in attendance, which I assume it would be impossible to live in this village and not attend.  The older women wore their traditional mourning dresses, black or dark brown, while the younger women wore all kinds of stuff – anywhere from blue jeans and t-shirts to Ghanaian style dresses.  It is shocking to see Western style dress in Ghana.  In many places in Africa, only prostitutes would dress in pants and tight clothes as you see here and in America.  It’s not at all unusual to see Wendy’s t-shirts or Kmart t-shirts, but I still find it odd.  Of course, they have no clue what the shirt refers to – they just bought it from the clothes that came from Salvation Army and Goodwill. 

After about an hour and a half from the time the services started a casket was brought to the bedside and a drape was placed around the canopy.  Several women were inside the canopy and evidently it was their job to move the body from the bed to the casket.  I didn’t notice any men helping, and it seemed to take about 30 minutes.  Again, I can’t even imagine the repulsiveness of this task in that now closed off canopy.  Just the thought – the flies, the heat, the odor!  After the body was moved the men came and moved the closed casket onto 2 benches in the middle of the square, and a cloth was placed over the top of the casket.  I don’t know the significance of the cloth, but they seemed very careful not to let it touch the ground.

As members of her church we were responsible to sing, so we sang 3 or 4 hymns, but I doubt too many people had any understanding of these English words.  However, I’m sure it was the first time that they ever heard white folks singing.  The American pastor preached in English and it was translated into Fante by one of the Christian nationals.  I sure like listening to Spirit filled African preachers!  After the pastor preached a message that contained the gospel, they took an offering for the bereaved – I assume to help pay for the casket and burial services.  That’s when the trouble started.  I had brought a stack of John and Romans scripture portions, and I asked the family if I could pass them out.  I was told it would be fine, but as I started quietly handing them to people around me it seemed it was too much to see a ‘broni’ (as they call white people) giving something away.  I now know what it means in the Bible when it says Jesus was ‘thronged’!  As I said, I only had a stack and there wasn’t going to be enough for everyone, but a man grabbed my arm and said, “Give them to me!”  Recognizing things were getting out of control, I gladly handed them to him, and he did his best to try to pass them out.  We had a box of about 150 in the car, and someone brought those out.  People were pushing and shoving, and I thought 2 old ladies were going to start throwing punches!  They even snatched the empty box! 

At that point, we headed to the car and drove to the cemetery.  The casket and family were loaded into the back of a station wagon taxi, and they drove to the cemetery also.  Everyone else just walked.  Grace was buried under a large tree on the side of a hill.  I was thinking it wasn’t such a bad place to be buried when they told me we needed to sing again.  The hole had been hand-digged and lined with cement. The casket was placed in the hole, Psalms 23 read in English and Fante, a shovel of dirt thrown on by the pastor and then several men with shovels filled in the hole.  We left before this was completed, but I was told that more than likely people would start pouring liquor into the ground around the hole in order to appease the demons and spirits. 

Isaac

Please note that I don't have internet service right now, so that is why I haven't posted.

I want to tell you a little about Isaac, our yard worker.  This young man came with the house.  He is employed by the missionary that normally lives here, and we have kept him on to keep up the yard and do things around the house.  Truly he is a very unusual young man! 

What first impressed me is that he is always on time.  I don’t believe he owns a watch, but he is always here before his work time.  If we ask him to come at a different time, he is flexible and here for that time also. 

I’m also impressed because he is self-motivated.  I don’t have to tell him what to do to keep up with the yard (as if I would know anyhow!), and he looks for things that need to be fixed.  As I’ve noted before, our water supply is not always reliable, so without me asking he began to check the polytank on the roof to let us know if it is running low.  Around the property is a cement block wall, about 7 feet at its highest point.  There are rusted knife blade type protrusions that are cemented on top to prevent people from jumping over the wall.  One day I found him out there with cement replacing a portion of knife blades that had been knocked down.  I hadn’t even noticed they were missing, yet he had and he was fixing it.

We were told that Isaac doesn’t know how to read or write, so I wanted to teach him.  I told him I’ve never taught anyone before, but he said he would like to learn.  He explained to me that he wasn’t able to go to school because his parents did not have the money to pay his school fees (books, uniforms, etc.).  Instead he was sent from his home in the north to Takoradi to live with his uncle and to find work.  He also told me he sends his money to his parents so that his younger sister can go to school.  When I asked him about his siblings he stated his two younger brothers died ‘for want of food’. 

Today Isaac was able to say the alphabet without looking at it, he read more than 15 words, and he could articulate what the difference is between B and b.   He recognizes God, Jesus, his name and sin.  I’m incredibly excited, but at the same time I wonder how he’ll ever learn enough to be able to read the Bible.  It is one thing to quote scripture to someone, praying they’ll believe and understand, but it’s another to have them see it for themselves.  I realize either way the Holy Spirit is the witness of the Truth, but so much of the word of God has been twisted here, and used to teach false doctrine. By his testimony he is trusting in his good works to get him to Heaven.  I have witnessed to him once, but I want to lay a foundation of the gospel from the Bible. He said he is willing to let me teach him some Bible lessons.  Please pray for Isaac!