A few Sunday mornings ago (before the ship's internet went down, and then went down again)I went to Pastor Peter’s church. Pastor Peter worked in the OR with us as a translator, so we got to know him quite well, and had been planning to visit his church for a while.
Church started at 9. We were supposed to meet Pastor Peter outside the port at 9:30, he showed up at 10, and we got to church at 10:15. Right on (Ghana) time. Singing and dancing had already started, and we were led in by the assistant pastor to the seats of honor at the front of the church while Pastor Peter joined the team of generator-fixers who were huddled around the machine outside the church hall. This would become a theme of the service; every time the microphone stopped working, Pastor Peter would run out and do something to the generator – pray over it? - so that the sound system was resurrected and the service could continue in deafening fashion.
It happened to be children’s Sunday, which is similar to our children’s Sundays – the Bible verse recitation, cute kids and singing – but with a lot more...coolness? rhythm? Something like that. As guests, we were very involved in the service; we were called to the front to introduce ourselves (Pastor Peter yelled at someone to get a camera and take pictures), then the entire congregation prayed over us, and at the end we were enlisted to help give out certificates to the children.
The sermon was given by a British man who had just arrived to teach at the YWAM base here (Youth With A Mission – a missions organization associated with Mercy Ships), and it was translated into Twi by Pastor Peter. The Twi bits were twice as long and three times as animated as the English version, and punctuated by raucous ‘Hallelujahs!’ and ‘Amens!’. Halfway through, the assistant pastor brought Pastor Peter a towel to mop up the sweat, but the British guy was still bone dry.
The offering – to go towards the children’s ministry - was my favorite part. It was more of an auction. Pastor Peter shouted numbers, people danced to the front to put money in the large offering bucket, and they couldn’t go back to their seats until someone else danced up and matched their donation, taking the original donor by the hand. If you didn’t want to go up during the auction, then you could just wait until the children got good and sweaty during their (really really good) dance performance, and bring up bills to stick to their foreheads. It was perhaps the most fun I’ve had giving money away in my life. Hallelujah and Amen :)
(A note on Ghanaian toilets - perhaps the most interesting toilet I’ve seen in any of my travels is the one in back of this church, shown in the picture: A cement and tile floor, surrounded by a shoulder-high wall with a door. No hole, nothing to indicate where to put one’s feet, etc., no ceiling, and no way to avoid it during a four-hour service during which you’re drinking like a camel to keep from passing out in the heat. Ick.)
Church started at 9. We were supposed to meet Pastor Peter outside the port at 9:30, he showed up at 10, and we got to church at 10:15. Right on (Ghana) time. Singing and dancing had already started, and we were led in by the assistant pastor to the seats of honor at the front of the church while Pastor Peter joined the team of generator-fixers who were huddled around the machine outside the church hall. This would become a theme of the service; every time the microphone stopped working, Pastor Peter would run out and do something to the generator – pray over it? - so that the sound system was resurrected and the service could continue in deafening fashion.
It happened to be children’s Sunday, which is similar to our children’s Sundays – the Bible verse recitation, cute kids and singing – but with a lot more...coolness? rhythm? Something like that. As guests, we were very involved in the service; we were called to the front to introduce ourselves (Pastor Peter yelled at someone to get a camera and take pictures), then the entire congregation prayed over us, and at the end we were enlisted to help give out certificates to the children.
The sermon was given by a British man who had just arrived to teach at the YWAM base here (Youth With A Mission – a missions organization associated with Mercy Ships), and it was translated into Twi by Pastor Peter. The Twi bits were twice as long and three times as animated as the English version, and punctuated by raucous ‘Hallelujahs!’ and ‘Amens!’. Halfway through, the assistant pastor brought Pastor Peter a towel to mop up the sweat, but the British guy was still bone dry.
The offering – to go towards the children’s ministry - was my favorite part. It was more of an auction. Pastor Peter shouted numbers, people danced to the front to put money in the large offering bucket, and they couldn’t go back to their seats until someone else danced up and matched their donation, taking the original donor by the hand. If you didn’t want to go up during the auction, then you could just wait until the children got good and sweaty during their (really really good) dance performance, and bring up bills to stick to their foreheads. It was perhaps the most fun I’ve had giving money away in my life. Hallelujah and Amen :)
(A note on Ghanaian toilets - perhaps the most interesting toilet I’ve seen in any of my travels is the one in back of this church, shown in the picture: A cement and tile floor, surrounded by a shoulder-high wall with a door. No hole, nothing to indicate where to put one’s feet, etc., no ceiling, and no way to avoid it during a four-hour service during which you’re drinking like a camel to keep from passing out in the heat. Ick.)
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