“Sound check, 1, 2, thank you Jesus.”
This past week, the church we’re working with in Busia hosted a series of crusades in a nearby village called Matayos. To get to Matayos, our group crammed into a van along with several other people and all of the sound equipment needed for the crusade. Along the way, it wasn’t uncommon for us to pick up even more people who needed a ride.
Every day when we got there, the guys would construct a 30 foot tower for the speakers, so that what was going on could be heard by everyone around. The sound checks, one of my favorite parts, seemed to go on for hours. I’m used to hearing, “sound check, 1, 2,” but the addition of “thank you Jesus” on the end was just totally unexpected. I like it though. It’s just such a part of language here. Praising God isn’t confined to a specific place or a specific time. Sound check? Perfect time to thank Jesus.
What really left an impression on me though was how this tower was put together, or rather, who put it together. In America, I constantly see people choosing not to do things because it’s “beneath them.” I won’t take that job– I’m too good for that. Or, I won’t act silly on purpose– I’m too important for that. Status is power, and it prevents you from having to do certain things.
But here? Not so much. One of the pastors in Busia, pastor Steve, never hesitated to climb up on the tower to help put things together. His attitude was never, “I’m here to be a pastor,” or “I’m here to play music,” but it was always, “I’m here to help.”
I have great admiration for that attitude. In my life, there are definitely certain ways I would rather help. I’m way more comfortable building something, working with numbers, playing music, and talking to people who are actively seeking advice. I do my best to avoid things like being in charge of children, praying out loud, singing, and washing silverware.
But why? I’ve traveled thousands of miles, and for some reason I only want to help in ways that are comfortable to me. Well, that’s just ridiculous.
