A Few Books, a Few Boards
By Bruce Steffes 6/4/03
In Togo, the sister villages of Koudzaragan and Koudzaragabi are located less than a kilometer apart, connected by a macadam road. Two hospital employees started the nucleus of a house church in this region where there had previously been no evangelistic outreach. Two years ago, while I was serving as a short-term medical missionary in Togo, I was approached by one of the hospital employees, Divine Dzagli. As we studied the Bible together, he shared his heart's concerns. The people of his house church had no seats, no songbooks, and no Bibles. Through a small donation we forwarded from others, they were able to make benches and buy songbooks and Bibles in French and in Ewe, the local tribal language. Small purchases, yet the church began to grow. Subsequently, Marty and Lisa Lohrman, ABWE missionaries at the hospital, began attending and supporting the church.
Diesel Fuel and a Dozer
One day near the end of 2002, a wheezy, asthmatic truck begins to drag a heavy earth-moving machine slowly up a winding road to a small plot of land just outside the limits of the small village of Koudzaragan . Carefully inching around the switchbacks on the one-lane road, the truck wends its way up the thousand-foot-high plateau. Marty Lohrman, a maintenance worker at the missionary hospital, is clearing the land. The fuel he uses is a gift from his own mission funds; his time is donated from free time. The nationals never think it odd that a missionary would repair machines and keep things running so others can serve, that he would consider diesel fuel a legitimate mission expenditure, or spend his spare time to serve yet another group.
Raising a House of Worship
On a December morning, as the first rays of the African dawn begin to warm the high Danyi Plateau, the clearing fills with members of the fledgling house church. They are joined by people from the nearby N'Digbe Baptist church who agreed to help them build. As the sun rises and the temperatures rapidly climbs, two trees are stripped of their bark. Machetes flash. The great poles stand upright, tall and proud, stripped of forked branches, their ends buried in the ground. On top of these, the workers erect a framework of bamboo. The bamboo has been carefully harvested and carried long distances to the site. Carefully, skilled workers lash the structure together with strands of green cordage made by splitting flexible young green bamboo. Women bring grass in great armfuls, carefully weaving it together to form a five-inch thick thatched roof that would be impervious to the rain. The workers strive to serve God through the quality of their handiwork. When the sun finally grows low in the sky, a new thatched house of worship stands complete on the road between the two sister villages, Koudzaragan and Koudzaragabi.
Baptism
The week before, the fledgling church had held a baptism. Baptism is not taken lightly in the Togolese church. It is not only a commandment, but a privilege and an honor. New Christians are not be allowed to show the world they were following Christ in this public way until the pastor and deacons know them to be understanding, trained and committed. At this baptism, ten new Christians are being obedient to Christ's command. The celebration lasts for hours-a time of praise, of testimony, of singing, of rejoicing, of preaching. But it is suddenly interrupted by an angry man who drags his elderly mother from the crowd of watchers. He doesn't want her to be involved with this group of Christians. Fetish and ancestor worship should be good enough for her, a life of fear, sacrifice, voodoo, rituals. He cannot be reasoned with. She leaves. The ten go under the water.
The First Service
On Sunday, January 5, 2003-the first Sunday of the New Year, the Baptist Church of Koudzaragan worships in its own building for the first time. In celebration, they have shown Christian movies each of the previous two nights and invited both villages. Marty Lohrman, the same missionary who served with dozer and diesel, now serves with generator, projector and screen. Over 300 people come each night to hear a story many have never heard before. Through the wonder of video, a long-dead Carpenter walks again. He dies. He rises. The first morning in the new church, the place is full to overflowing. God is worshiped. Songs are lifted. A sermon is given, a sermon that talks of the need to make a decision and a commitment.
As the closing songs are sung, two benches are placed in front. The paperback songbooks from which the closing hymn is taken have shown hard use. White shows through the dark red covers where they have been bent. Cantiques des Eglises Baptistes Bibliques du Togo. The songbooks and Bibles that are carefully shared are obviously valued by those who hold them. Many cannot read them but they appreciate them nonetheless. They were a gift from a Christian yovo (white person) unknown to them. The benches were also a gift. Sturdily made by a local carpenter, they are eight feet long. The brown paint is wearing thin where scores of bottoms have polished them. They have been carried from house to house for two years. They were carried into the new house of worship this morning. After, they will be carried to various homes and carefully stored until the next meeting. The poor church could not even afford these benches two years ago. Owning their own benches gives them prestige in the community. No other village organization owns anything so valuable.
The Call
The first one to slip down the dirt aisle and sit on the benches in response to the sermon and invitation is an old woman. As she hobbles forward on her cane, the woman's back is bowed. A buzz goes up over the singing-she is the woman who was dragged out of last week's meeting. Today, no one impedes her. And she is beaming. Two more men in their early twenties join her. Two mothers holding their babies fill the remaining seats. After the congregation is gone, the pastor talks with them. He prays with them. They yield control of their lives to God.
A few books. A few boards. A few gallons of fuel. Sometimes supporters of mission projects think their gifts are not large or significant enough to make an impact. But the paltry few dollars, less than $100 in total, spent on paper, planks, and petrol for this church will have perpetual payback. Nor does God use only the "typical" missionaries to reach people-the church planters, the translators, the medical personnel, the teachers. Ordinary people, like the Lohrmans, can simply use their skills-whether earth-moving or movie-showing-to serve God. The Lord blesses small offerings-whether of skills, services, or money-and multiplies them like the loaves and fishes.
Dr. Bruce Steffes is a general surgeon presently serving for the fourth time in Togo as a volunteer medical missionary. His wife, Micky, is an accountant. Retired from his practice in North Carolina, Bruce and Micky's ministry is one of "short-term missions serving missionaries and the people they serve." Mobilization of Christians to support and become involved in missions is their other passion and to that end, they have written the Handbook for Short Term Medical Missionaries, published by ABWE. More information about the Steffes' ministry can be found at www.brucesteffes.net
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