Acts 28: 7-15
Now in the neighborhood of that place were lands belonging to the leading man of the island, named Publius, who received us and entertained us hospitably for three days. It so happened that the father of Publius lay sick in bed with fever and dysentery. Paul visited him and cured him by praying and putting his hands on him. After this happened, the rest of the people on the island who had diseases also came and were cured. They bestowed many honors on us, and when we were about to sail, they put on board all the provisions we needed. Three months later we set sail on a ship that had wintered at the island, an Alexandrian ship with the Twin Brothers as its figurehead. We put in at Syracuse and stayed there for three days; then we weighed anchor and came to Rhegium. After one day there a south wind sprang up, and on the second day we came to Puteoli. There we found believers and were invited to stay with them for seven days. And so we came to Rome. The believers from there, when they heard of us, came as far as the Forum of Appius and Three Taverns to meet us. On seeing them, Paul thanked God and took courage.
Paul began his journey to Rome in Jerusalem. By almost every indicator, his journey would seem to have been defined by misery and terror. First, he is attacked and beaten by a mob for preaching the gospel. Second, he is arrested, bound in chains, and sent to the barracks. Third, he is falsely accused of being a “terrorist.” Fourth, he barely escapes being flogged by his captures. Fifth, he is relentlessly pursued by more than forty men who vow not to eat or drink until he has been killed. Sixth, he is tried by a corrupt governor who keeps him in prison for two years in order to gain popularity with the public. Seventh, while sailing to Rome, the ship carrying him enters a storm with hurricane winds that last for several days. Eighth, as a result of this storm, Paul goes fourteen days on the ship without food. Ninth, the ship becomes shipwrecked and the soldiers want to kill Paul and the prisoners before they swim away. And, finally, tenth, after coming to shore, Paul is bitten on the hand by a viper. Paul was having a rough time.
For many people in the world today, it might be argued that life is no less difficult. By almost every indicator, the plight of many in Uganda suggests a situation that has also been defined by misery and terror. Writing in the Christian Century, a former UN undersecretary described the suffering in Northern Uganda as “far worse than in Darfur in duration, magnitude and long-term consequences.” For 21 years, the Acholi people in Northern Uganda have been victimized to genocidal proportions by both sides of a civil war. On the one side, there is the Lord’s Resistance Army that has attacked them and abducted over 25,000 children to be used as soldiers, workers, and sex slaves. On the other side, there is the government regime led by a president who once vowed to contain the Acholi people “like grasshoppers in a bottle.” True to his word, hundreds of thousands of Acholi people were forced from their homes by the government to live imprisoned in camps where there were no provisions of any kind—food or medicine. Then, there was also the outright violence committed by the government, which has been supported by millions of dollars in US military aid.
For Paul and for the Acholi people, where was God in the midst of such suffering? In Paul’s journey from Jerusalem to Rome, Acts indicates that through the conviction of his testimony and through the support of friends, Paul was able to survive. After one of his near escapes from violence in Jerusalem, God told Paul, “Take courage! As you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome.” Paul was then blessed on his journey by the repeated care he received from friends along the way. When Paul finally reached Rome, his journey came to a joyful end as believers traveled from a distance to greet him. At the sight of the believers, Paul thanked God and took courage.
In Uganda, I was fortunate enough to be part of a group that witnessed and experienced a variation of Paul’s faith journey. Whereas Paul traveled from place to place sharing his own testimony, we traveled from place to place receiving the testimony of others. Everywhere we went, we were greeted by friends in Christ who welcomed us with joy and deepened our understanding of God through their testimonies. For the friends who greeted us and for the testimonies we heard, we found ourselves repeatedly giving thanks to God and taking courage.
Our journey began in the South, in Kampala, the capital city of Uganda, where after receiving an initial orientation we made our first stop in Acholi Quarters, an urban settlement on the outskirts of the city. This settlement of improvised shacks is home to 5,000 people who had fled from the North. With song and dance, we were greeted upon our arrival by women who lined our path to the local church. There in the church the festive welcome continued before the beginning of a program by a women’s empowerment organization. I remember being particularly struck during this program by the testimony of a young woman who had been one of the leading singers and dancers upon our arrival. Joy seemed to explode contagiously from her. Yet, there she stood before us telling her story, her story of how she initially came from a family of seven and how all but her had been killed in the war. Later, we learned from the program host that this young woman had witnessed the deaths of her own parents. Yet, there she stood before us fighting back tears as she declared, “God is the only one who can give me comfort.” For our new friends in Acholi Quarters and for their testimony, we thanked God and took courage.
From there, we traveled to the North itself where we visited one of the settlements that has imprisoned the Acholi people. Again, we were greeted with song and elaborate traditional dances. One of the dances was accompanied by a song that spoke of a man longing to see the beauty of his wife at the end of the war. In the North, we heard more testimonies. One came from a young man for whom I had an immediate liking. He had a personality that instantly lit up a room. His smile and laughter came easy. As he told us his testimony, we learned that when he was two his father was killed by the government. His mother then died of AIDS in 1986. At the age of 13, he was abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army. Trained in Sudan, he was forced to kill others and become desensitized to death by carrying the body parts of the deceased. At one point, he tried to escape and was caned with 250 strokes. He told us that in the bush where the soldiers lived one night was like a year. Eventually, he escaped and received amnesty. As he returned to society, however, he was riddled with fear and haunted by his past. He suffered from depression and attempted suicide. He told us how despite becoming saved he still had no joy until a pastor fasted with him for three days. On the third day, he had a breakthrough. He told us that suddenly he found himself laughing. For his fasting, God had given him the gift of laughter.
While we were in the North, we also visited an organization composed of over 400 widows. Again, we were greeted in song. They sang to us in their native tongue, and one song involved shaking the hand of someone else and joyfully jumping up and down. After the singing, the women shared with us their testimonies. Their husbands had died from war, AIDS, and natural causes. In the past, widows were cared for by extended families, but with all of the death and the loss of property experienced in the North, the traditional social structures had disintegrated. When we asked what the widows did as an organization, we were surprised that the first thing they said was not what they did to support one another as widows, but what they did to support people outside their organization. They told us of how they visited patients in hospitals and how they pooled together their own money to buy bread for the patients. They told us of how they visited prisons and how they pooled together their own money to buy soap for the prisoners. In Mark and Luke, we are told of the poor widow who gave her two coins to the temple. In Uganda, we witnessed a living testimony of what God continues to do through the generosity of widows. It occurred to me that in the United States there are people who would lead one to believe that an inherent part of being human is greed. In Uganda, we met people who would lead one to believe that an inherent part of being human is generosity. For our new friends in the North and for their testimony, we thanked God and took courage.
From the North, we traveled to the Eastern part of the country where we stopped in a town called Kumi. There we were greeted by a choir of orphans. One of the songs we joined in singing with them was about stomping down the devil. So it was, that we again found ourselves in a crowd of all ages jumping up and down as we sang. The next day we visited a place where a new orphanage was being constructed. We heard the testimony of the visionary behind the choir and orphanage who had also composed most of the songs sung by the choir. We then heard the testimonies of other young people who had joined with him and given of themselves freely to support the ministry he envisioned. One was studying architecture in what would be the equivalent of high school here, and he had designed the orphanage complete with an elaborate system of septic tanks. Another was good with numbers, and he did the organization’s accounting. Another we were told could fix anything that drove, and he served as their mechanic. Another was a schoolteacher, and she taught the children to sing. In deciding their courses of study, each of the young leaders thought of how he or she could build his or her own intellect for the good of the entire group. Together, they were the body of Christ, each one contributing from his or her talents to the good of the larger body. For our new friends in Kumi and for their testimony, we thanked God and took courage.
From Kumi, we traveled to the city of Tororo. There we were greeted by a church full of people suffering from HIV and AIDS. They had been waiting all day for our arrival. They greeted us with song, dance, and the traditional friendship gift of live chickens. (Circulating on the Internet right now in the United States are pictures of me awkwardly holding a chicken upside down.) Then, the people shared with us their testimonies. We heard of how they were ostracized by their families, friends, and communities. We heard about how they would sell everything they owned, including the roof over their head, in order to pay medical expenses. The next day the pastor hosting us took us to visit his sister as she lay dying from AIDS. A few days later we learned she had passed away. Deaths such as this have become common, and yet there was an amazing resiliency among these people from Tororo. For our new friends there and for their testimony, we thanked God and took courage.
From Tororo, we traveled to Bujagali Falls and the source of the Nile River. At Bujagali Falls, we were greeted not by the song and dance of humans but by the song and dance of water jumping off rocks, roaring to its own applause. At the source of the Nile, we heard the testimony not of ordinary believers but of a mighty river. I am not sure if you knew that rivers have testimonies, but I am quite certain that I heard the testimony of the Nile. The Nile told us of how it is the longest river in the world, how it traveled through lands wracked by violence, disease, and poverty. It told us of how it witnessed all of the harm that humans do to each other and to nature. And, yet it told us that despite all of the suffering that it passed through, despite all of the evil it witnessed, there is still a river that flows. There is still a river, and it is the river of life. There is still a river, and it gives drink to the thirsty. There is still a river, and at the source of that great river is a God who shall never die. Together let us all give thanks to God and take courage. Amen.