Among the Malagasy People of Madagascar
Go ... and make disciples of all nations
|
Among the Malagasy People of Madagascar Go ... and make disciples of all nations |
|
| Volume 18, Number 7 | July 2003 |
| The Barry Rosie family have worked on the mission field in Africa for more than 17 years under the oversight of the: |
Church of Christ c/o Phillip Young 140 C.R. 170 Corinth, MS 38834 |
Don Farris - 662-287-2548 Eugene Holland - 662-287-1721 Leroy Reed - 662-287-2556 |
|
We used to get that question a lot when we lived in Kenya. It invariably propelled us into gales of laughter which had to be quickly stifled. It was one of those questions that plagued Kenyans, as if who Cain married had a direct relation to their salvation and assurance of life in heaven, and it bothered them that we could not give them an answer. It was one of those unanswerable questions. This month I asked one of those unanswerable questions myself, and I understood the frustration of not getting an answer. It had to do with Rivo’s wedding, of course. We are experienced enough as missionaries to know that sometimes our role in an event planned by the local people is just to take orders and not question. It was just such a case with this wedding. We offered our home for the event, knowing that because Rivo’s family is in the process of digging a huge stone out of their front yard that there would be no room for a wedding at their home, and we realized that we would just stand back and take orders, not fully understanding Malagasy wedding customs. It was with this attitude that we entered into wedding preparations. All was progressing well. Rivo’s family planned for 150. They wanted to set up a large shade with two parachutes in our front yard. They borrowed mismatched tables and benches from several different places and purchased mismatched plastic table cloths to cover the rickety and none too clean tabletops. That was when I began to suffer frustration for truly American reasons. I wanted everything to match and quickly saw that this could not possibly happen. Nevertheless, I could understand the reason. I said nothing and continued to take orders. We arranged and re-arranged tables several times trying to fit them under the shade with maximum efficiency. We taped the plastic tablecloths to tabletops with some sense of balance and order, putting like tablecloths together. Just about every family in our neighborhood loaned dishes and silverware for the occasion. You can imagine just how little matched. The dishes were all glass, some tinted golden and some clear glass, but in a variety of shapes and sizes. My discomfort increased. But! In the process of unloading dishes from baskets, I noticed that one basket contained more than one hundred matching plates. Rivo’s sisters were already in the process of placing plates on tables. They had brought the loaned dishes to our house. They knew of the large number of matching plates but they ignored my suggestion to try to place the matching dishes with some sense of balance. Instead they chose to scatter mismatched dishes on each table. I stopped, breathed deeply, trying to understand, shrugged my shoulders in an effort to shake off unease, and turned to help the two sisters placing silverware at each place setting. Now that was an entirely different story! Those two girls were sifting through a huge basket of mismatched silverware trying to find matching spoons and forks to place beside each plate. I was puzzled but started in matching spoons to forks. It wasn’t long before I realized that most of the silver was not clean. It was covered with a fine coating of oil and dust particles clung to the grease. I offered to wash all the silverware for them. They ignored me again and continued painstakingly matching forks to spoons and placing them beside mismatched plates. I stifled my desire to ask why matching plates was not important but matching dirty silverware was. I was making a supreme effort to breathe steadily and smile while, “this is not your country or your wedding, yours is not to question why, yours is but to do or die” ran steadily through my head. When my basket was empty, I turned to survey the entire effect of these wedding tables in my front yard. To my surprise a row of the golden tinted dishes ran right down the middle table in the middle of the yard. The dishes were still mismatched but they were all golden tinted while the dishes that ran down either side of the yard were mismatched, clear glass dishes. I hadn’t noticed they weren’t arranged that way before. I walked toward the front porch and immediately noticed that only half of the matching dishes had been used. Out loud I suggested that we replace the gold tinted dishes with the extra clear glass dishes and then at least all the dishes would be clear. I could not have gotten more attention if I had dropped a bomb in my front yard. Work stopped immediately and heads popped up all around. Startled looks greeted me on every side. For a full minute, no one moved or spoke. I repeated myself, thinking they didn’t understand, “If we replace these gold tinted dishes with the clear dishes then everything on the tables would be clear glass.” I was a bit discomfited with their reaction so I turned to folding napkins, but I could not ignore the fact that a conclave was immediately held in the far corner of the yard. It continued for several minutes, all of them talking in whispers. I continued folding and repeating quietly, “Yours is but to do or die,” realizing that I had tread on sacred ground. Ten minutes later, Jean Claude, the night guard of our property approached me. He had been elected by the conclave to approach me and try to explain. “Uhhm, we can’t take those gold dishes off those tables,” he stuttered. “Why?” I asked. That was it! The unanswerable question I was determined not to ask. Jean Claude just shook his head and walked away. Now that I had blown my “yours in not to reason why” attitude, I couldn’t leave it alone. In the course of the afternoon, I asked the question in twenty different ways to twenty different people, young and old, men and women, friends and mere acquaintances. Some just shrugged, some looked embarrassed, some pleaded ignorance, but I couldn’t let it rest. I just had to find out what was so important about those gold tinted dishes and why they didn’t want to explain. It didn’t end there. I was even more surprised when just at the end of the wedding ceremony, Rivo’s sisters suddenly discovered that they shouldn’t have placed the dishes on the tables after all. They needed those plates to serve the salad on, so they rushed out among the guests, gathered up the dishes willy nilly , brought them to the kitchen, dished up individual servings of salad and then proceeded to serve the salad on mixed, tinted and clear glass dishes, to every corner of the yard, paying no attention to making sure those gold tinted dishes were placed carefully along the center table. I was intrigued to the point of distraction, but I didn’t dare ask. I knew it would be another of those unanswerable questions. I do, though, have an answer to a question that may previously have been unanswerable to many at home who send missionaries onto the field. The question: Why do so many missionaries leave the field so quickly after arriving? The answer: Because they can’t live with all those unanswerable questions, and there are so many of them out here. Most missionaries just can’t bare to look so ignorant. We have been on the field 18 years and barely manage to deal with those unanswerable questions and looking ignorant even all these years later. How did we get past it in the beginning? Well. . . that’s another of those unanswerable questions and like the answer to who married Cain, one day I know we’ll get an answer! |
| Did You Know. . .
. . . that oftentimes a missionary is teaching a lesson even when he doesn’t realize it? He spends hours planning lessons and approaches to the people with whom he lives and works, but the greatest lessons are taught when a missionary is used by God and doesn’t even realize the picture he is painting. This last month, Barry performed his first wedding ceremony. He studied for hours over the lesson he intended to teach. He asked a Malagasy to translate the wedding vows into flawless Malagasy, just to be sure that even small details would be understood. He donned a suit and tie for the first time in three years to look impressive and to command attention. He taught a lesson about God’s will for marriage that lasted almost an hour. He pulled off the ceremony without a major mistake. He was duly thanked and several guests shook his hand and told him he did a good job. Five minutes after the completion of the ceremony and without giving his actions much thought, Barry set down his Bible, walked into the kitchen and looked around to see how he could help. He took up two plates of salad and proceeded to join Rivo’s family in serving the 300 wedding guests. The reaction was immediate and surprising. It started in whispers both in the kitchen and then among the guests. Before Barry could carry out many more salad plates, family and guests alike were proclaiming his actions with laughter and admiration. “Who is this man that performs the wedding ceremony and then gives himself to serving the guests their wedding feast?” Barry ignored the hubbub. He was too busy serving to even hear. Explanations were left to me. My mind went immediately to Jesus and the feet He washed, and I found myself quoting Jesus’ words as I, spoon in hand, crouched over the huge pots of meat to be served with the rice. “I tell you the truth. A servant is not greater than his master. The person that is sent to do something is not greater than the one who sent him.” (John 13:16) If Jesus was sent by His Father, I explained, and He was willing to wash feet, why should you be surprised that Jesus sent Barry and that Barry is willing to serve a guest, if it might teach that guest about the One who sent Barry? They wanted to argue, never having seen such a thing. It was inconceivable to them that the minister who performed the ceremony would possibly agree to serve at table, but I didn’t give them time to argue as I pointed out verse seventeen. “If you know these things, you will be happy if you do them.” (John 13:17) “Look at him!” I exclaimed with all confidence, for I know my husband well, “Doesn’t he look happy? Can’t you see that Barry is happier to serve than he is to stand front and center in front of all those people? Don’t you understand that it is exactly as Jesus said, ’You will be happy if you do them.” I looked up from my pot of meat because no one was reacting and one by one I saw their gaping mouths clamp shut. They found themselves unable to argue, as Barry strolled into the kitchen looking for two more plates to serve. . . |
| this and that
June 21, 2003 An important day for Rivo
June 28, 2003
|
|
||||||||||||||||||
| What
can you do?
You can pray!
|
|
B.P. 7554 Antananarivo 101 Madagascar Tel. 011-261-32-02-081-14
|
We welcome you to join us in this work for Him . . .
