MY REDEEMED SOUL REJOICES

Culture Tips and Tricks - Number One

Culture differences sure can pull some tricks on you if you are not prepared.  My years of living in Nigeria, West Africa taught me that you best be quick to notice and ready to adjust to cultural differences.  Here are some examples of what I mean:

I taught at a school for men who planned to become ministers.  Sometimes they would use their middle finger to point at something.  If we were looking at a book or paper they had written they would use the middle finger to point at a word or phrase.  At first, I would cringe each time they did this but eventually I got used to it and I admit I began to do it as well and still do (cultural habits are hard to break).  I once tried to explain to a class that in my country to point with one's middle finger was very offensive.  Now being offensive in Nigeria is a big deal.  I remember one lady was able to get out of a traffic citation simply by telling the officer, “You have offended me.  You did not greet me first.” Simply because he did not give the proper “Good Morning” she was able to drive away without a ticket.  But I digress (I do that a lot although I don't mean to but if something is interesting it needs to be explained).  When I tried to explain to the class why it was offensive I found that it was difficult to explain without using words that would be offensive, so I finally just gave up.  It didn't matter anyway to them and why make them hesitate to do what was natural in their culture?

I was reminded last night while we were eating fish of another cultural difference.  Once I traveled with a student to his home village.  (I did this a lot and have lots of stories to share so stay tuned).  It was the custom in this village, since it was close to the ocean, to serve fish, so after church services we were invited to a gentleman's house for a meal of fish and soup (Nigerian soup is a thick and tasty blend of greens, okra and other ingredients including red pepper that is hotter than Hades).  I like fish and I like Nigerian food but when the host told me that it was their custom to honor the guest by giving him the best part of the fish – the head, I tried to explain my way out of it.  I said it was an honor to eat at his home and interestingly enough in my country we don't typically eat the head.   We prefer the flesh of the fish.  I had him convinced but then the student arrived from the kitchen with a bowl with the fish head in it.  No need to try to get out of it – I ate it.  Well,  not all of it but I did the best I could.  It was actually quite tasty but I won't be ordering it the next time I see it on a menu.  But that is a difference in culture.  The things we throw away are considered by others to be the best part of the animal (or fish).

Here's another one I learned.  In Nigeria, if someone extends their hand to shake, no matter what you are holding in your right hand, even if it weighs fifty pounds, you must shift it to your left hand and shake with your right.  I think what goes through their mind is, “There's no telling where that left hand has been because I know where mine has been and I am not going to touch it.”  The only exception to this is when a man shakes your hand and you are walking in the same direction and instead of letting go of your hand he shifts and continues to hold your hand as you walk.  This really gave me the heeby-jeebies but it is a common thing – one that I never got used to.

Lastly, there is an interesting phenomenon in Nigeria that occurs once a year for a couple of months. Its called Harmattan.  The winds blow hard on the Sahara Desert and stir up the dust for miles.  Then it blows down to Nigeria and goes up your nose.  There were times in class I could hardly speak (no air conditioner) because my throat was caked in mud.  Often a student would get up from his seat, walk to the window (which had no glass) and just honk his nose right out on to the ground outside.  I thought, “Now that is so gross” until someone pointed out to me that my blowing my nose into a piece of cloth and putting it into my back pocket was more gross.  Truth hurts.  Sometimes one's culture just doesn't make sense and no I didn't start walking to the window and blowing it all outside.  I just held it until I could get back home and went in my backyard where there was an eight foot wall and no one could see me.  It was quite liberating.  I don't suggest you try it though, just stick to your own culture and put it in your pocket.

Rain, Rain, Rain Beautiful Rain

It rained today.  I was sitting in my office and the rains came.  Normally that wouldn't be a big deal but the heat has been oppressive here in Yadkinville, North Carolina of late.  Some may laugh and say, “Oppressive? What was it, in the nineties?”   To which I would reply, “Yes, but things are relative aren't they?”  I know what really oppressive heat is.  I lived for five years just six degrees north of the equator, in Nigeria, West Africa.  It gets hot there (understatement).  I remember when Harmattan was at its worse, not only was it hot, the dust got into everything – including one's nose and mouth, so when you heard the distant rumble of thunder and began to see a few flashes of lightning, you started to get excited.  “Rain, rain, rain, rain, beautiful rain” sings the group Ladysmith Black Mambazo.  They understand.  When the rain starts in Africa you cannot help yourself, you have to go out into it.  Four or five months without a drop of rain compels you to go out into it and you cannot resist.  It feels like the rain is cleansing the whole earth, you along with it.  

Isn't that how the grace of God is for the Christian?  There are times when you feel so dusty and you want to just spread your arms wide and be drenched by the grace of God.  And as a child of God He invites you to do just that, be drenched in His grace.  No feeling is better than that and maybe that's why He gave us the rain – so we could understand. 

Dr. Bob Whittaker

There are great people with whom we cross paths during our lives and rarely do we give them credit for how they have influenced us – until they are gone.  I want to take a little time and honor one such person in my life.  Dr. Bob Whittaker, missionary doctor at Nigerian Christian Hospital, was recently kidnapped from his home and within a week returned.  What a harrowing situation to have to go through  but what it did for those of us who know Dr. Bob was to drive us to our knees in prayer and reminded us how he has affected our lives.

Dr. Bob treated my family for different ailments while we lived in Nigeria for five years.  He took care of my wife when she broke her toe.  I  think he was a bit amazed by her ability to have a needle stuck into her toe without flinching.  She explained it was because she was using her breathing exercises she had learned in her Lamaze classes to prepare for having our first baby.  He also treated Robin for Typhoid Fever.  It was Dengue Fever that got me over to his office on one occasion.  He also helped educate us on how to treat Malaria as every member of our family had it multiple times.

I would visit the hospital to get some advice about something or other and sometimes when I arrived he would be in the operating theatre (pronounced with a British accent).  He would tell me to put on a mask and come on in.  I saw operations going on that fifth year med students weren't able to see in the USA, at least not at the range I was able to see them.  And Dr. Bob always felt it necessary to give me a lesson while I was standing there.  Once he was removing a cyst the size of a grapefruit from someone's stomach and explained to me why he was so meticulously cutting away the fibers holding it.  Another time he was removing a baby that had died in the womb.  I still tear up thinking of how lovingly he and his assistant handled that baby even though life had already left it. Its one of those memories etched in my mind forever.

Dr. Bob doesn't start a surgery without saying a prayer first.  I recall him saying that healing came from God.  He really sees himself only as an instrument of God for God is the one who truly brings healing.  Dr. Bob is one of the most spiritual-minded men I know – in any country.

Not only is he a great doctor, he's a great man of God.  Even though I only heard him preach a couple of times in chapel at Nigerian Christian Bible College, I know that he has a heart for the spread of the gospel.  He has reached out to many congregations in Nigeria and shared the truth.  He makes sure that patients who come to the hospital to be treated receive treatment not only for the physical but for the spiritual as well. 

He stands as one of the greats – to be compared to the likes of the best Christians and humanitarians with which God has blessed this world.  He is a wonderful example of someone who decides to forego the financial riches of this world and chooses the noble path of giving of himself to those in need.  May God give him many more years of service in his kingdom.

Honduras Is Important

A lot of people lately have probably been asking the question, “Why is Honduras important?”  There is a political situation going on there that has peaked the interest of many people (while others are oblivious to it).  I want to ignore the political situation for the moment and consider why Honduras is important to Christians.

There are over a thousand people who go to Honduras each summer to be involved in mission trips of one kind or another.  Of these, several are leaving the USA for the first time ever.  Let's look at why Honduras is important to them.

For many, this is their first taste of mission work of any kind.  The neat thing about Honduras is that it has the advantage of being close to home (just a two hour flight from Miami or Ft. Worth).  There is a variety of things one can do there – visit the orphans, feed the hungry, clothe the needy, build houses, work with medical missions, build school rooms or church buildings, even build a bridge across a creek.  There are opportunities to evangelize or just invite people to Bible studies.  There is no better way to learn what mission work is all about than to go do it.  Once they have gotten a taste, some will decide to prepare themselves as missionaries, likely to some other place than Honduras. Others will become life-long supporters of missions, perhaps even to the point that they understand that this is their reason to be successful in their occupation – not to gain things of this world, but to share their blessings with others with the goal of one day seeing them in heaven.  

Most will return to the USA with the additional realization that there are people in need here as well and will encourage their own congregation to be more involved in benevolence with the goal of teaching the gospel to those same people.  All these benefits come because they got their first taste of fulfilling James admonition, “religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”  (James 1:27 ESV)

Another reason Honduras is important to Christians is because it is often the first time a Christian gets his or her first taste of true fellowship.  By this I mean that it is the first time they worship and work side by side and day after day with a group of like-minded Christians.  These other Christians aren't exactly like them either.  They are from different states and different sized congregations. Some are from rural areas and some are urbanites.  Some are even from Texas (I love giving Texans a hard time).  I believe it is one of the best things we can do for the community of God – bring people from all over the USA and throw them together into a melting pot of mission work.  They begin to appreciate one another more and realize that we are all in this together – trying to make the world a better place and win others to Christ.

Honduras is important because it is for many the first place they will see true poverty.  I've heard that some teens have gotten off the bus on their first day out and just started crying.  For the first time in their lives they saw how much of the rest of the world lives – in poverty.  They see how eager people are to get a used set of clothes or a bag filled with a week's worth of food.  They watch as children eat a meal prepared for them at one of our feeding centers and realize it may be the only healthy meal those children will receive that day.  They see the smiles on the faces of the children at Casa de Esperanza and understand what a difference can be made in the lives of children born in poverty.  And it changes them.  Many return to the USA with a greater appreciation for what they have – a home, regular meals, a closet full of clothes.  Believe it or not sometimes they even return with a greater appreciation for their parents – and you thought miracles had ceased!

Honduras is important.  Pray for her.  Pray for every person who lives there.  Encourage more to visit and, if possible, go yourself.  It might even change you.