The Power of Conversation
(my first official sermon)
by Taylor Walters
  February 2005


(This is the sermon that started my current adventure. I haven't "translated" it for written communication with proper punctuation, so please imagine how it would sound if I said it)


Thank you for inviting me....

I requested that we stick with the lectionary texts for this morning because they contain powerful images of thirst, the power of water, and the promises of God—something the Congolese I’ve met know a lot about.  I also want to add another scripture to the mix: Acts 16:9-10.  I like the way it is paraphrased in the Message:
 
That night Paul had a dream: A Macedonian stood on the far shore and called across the sea, "Come over to Macedonia and help us!" The dream gave Paul his map. We went to work at once getting things ready to cross over to Macedonia. All the pieces had come together. We knew now for sure that God had called us to preach the good news to the Europeans.

My favorite fictional preacher is Pollyanna’s—Disney’s version with Haley Mills to be specific.  He is a sincerely devote man who tries to convey the urgency for righteous action to his congregation by preaching things such as “Death Comes Unexpectedly.”  But such an approach doesn’t inspire them to action. Luckily, Pollyanna, an orphaned missionary’s daughter, moves to town teaches him—and others—the Glad Game.  He begins preaching on the joyous scripture and next thing you know they have transformed the town by bringing out the best in everyone.

Pollyanna’s story isn’t simply a sappy fantasy.  It is a fable that teaches us the power of conversation.  Yes, a little girl too poor to own a doll can transform an entire community by simply talking to people—listening deeply, believing in them, inspiring them, and challenging them.  By focusing not on the way things have always been but the way things could be, reality realigns itself.  Pollyanna knows the power of the self-fulfilling prophecy.

Pollyanna is not the only one who teaches us this.  Movies and Literature—especially the ones for children—are full of heroes who, through conversations, make room for miracles to happen.  Which one is your favorite?  Who votes for Kevin Bacon in Footloose?   If movies aren’t your thing, there is this book called the Bible and wow it’s full of people making a difference through conversations. Let’s see… there’s, well, the disciples, all the prophets including Jesus and, really anyone who hear God’s voice and shared it with others.  If movies and book aren’t your thing, how about recent history?  We’ve got Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, Oscar Romero, Susan B. Anthony, to name a few famous ones. 

 All this to say that powerful things do happen when we engage with others about what is possible and aren’t afraid to dream big.  I kept this in mind while pondering what to share with you this morning.  What should I say about the Congo?  About my faith journey? About what I learned after several years of studying international and community development models? About what exactly I’ll be doing in Congo and, oh yeah—about how I need your financial support to do this.   

Since bad news isn’t inspiring, I won’t be talking about the 4 million people who have lost their lives in the past five years due directly or indirectly to the fighting in Eastern Congo.  I won’t talk about the overwhelmingly high child mortality rate—about half don’t live to 5—the highest rate in the world.  I won’t talk about the horrific forms of torture and the countless rape survivors in desperate need of reconstructive surgery.  I’m not going to talk about the destruction of farm land, the hunger, and malnutrition. I won’t talk about the plight of the widows and orphans. And, I’m not talking about what the US has—and hasn’t—done to contribute and respond to all of this. If you really want to know, you can go online or read a good newspaper. 

What I’m going to tell you about is a place called Kamina where miracles are happening.  And, like most good miracle stories, it involves a visionary who is committed to teach his community another way.  If you have ever met Bishop Ntambo Nkulu, you would know it.  He is a man who looks at his communities and sees what’s possible.  He looks at barren land and sees flourishing farms.  He looks at orphaned street children and sees leaders of the church.  The shell of a building is a world class hospital.  Another plot of land is a university.  The soldiers in the bases just outside of town are not a disaster waiting to happen. No, they too are his flock.

Bishop Nkulu oversees all of North Katanga, an area that includes the worst of the violence. I wouldn’t be surprised if he won a Nobel Peace Prize for the work he’s doing to address it. Last September, he brokered a peace settlement for Katanga at a conference attended by about 250 fighters. Convincing people to put down their weapons isn’t enough—they need help rebuilding their lives.  Families whose crops were destroyed in the war are receiving the tools they need to replant.  Those who were forced to flee their homes and resettle elsewhere are also receiving agricultural training and assistance.  In Kamina, a town that was spared from the fighting, an entire agriculture experimentation and training program exists.  There, it was discovered that the nutritious Chinese cabbage grows well in the dry season when food is especially scarce.  The cabbage is now common in Kamina and surrounding areas and is referred to with a name that roughly translates to “Thank you Methodists.”

In addition to this, the Methodist church has—and is seeking to expand—an orphanage that houses many children who experienced first hand the horrors of war and an economic support group for widows.  And, we mustn’t leave out the university in Kamina. All of these programs are supported with the generosity of United Methodist congregations just like this one.

In less than two weeks, I will be in Kamina. There are two main questions I get when I say where I’m going: Why? and What will you do there?  There are so many ways to respond to these questions, and my answer varies based on who asks and what is on my heart at the moment.  Sometimes I talk about the violence and my desire to apply my conflict resolution training at the school in Kamina.  Sometimes I discuss my passion for community transformation models, my theories, and how I’m experimenting with a way to train church leaders—here and abroad—in these highly effective methods. Sometimes I say that I’ve known Ntambo since jr.high, his daughter became my sister when she moved in with my family, and I spent a life changing summer there at age 15.  Sometimes I describe the beauty of the country, the people, and their music.  Sometimes I simply say, I’m going because the bishop invited me and I’ll be doing whatever he wants me to do.  But today I want to tell you I’m going to Kamina because of a Haitian woman known affectionately as Ma Tante.

When I met Ma Tante, she was an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s who lived with her niece outside of Port-au-Prince.  Ma Tante needed constant supervision, but she didn’t always get it, and often wandered off.  I ended up sharing a house with her shortly after completing my last year of grad school, which was rough.  I had taken too many classes on depressing topics, juggled too many jobs, and dealt with too many unforeseen tragedies. By the time I finished I was exhausted, broken, disillusioned, and definitely not talking to a God that allowed such suffering in the world. And then I serendipitously was invited to join a medical mission team.  So, there I was in the middle of Haiti, trying hard to hide my soul sickness from others.

One hot day I irrationally decided to walk back up to the main house.  No sooner had I sat down on my bed when in walked Ma Tante.  She smiled and spoke something in Creole.  Ah, Ma Tante, I don’t speak Creole. She paused, looked straight at me like she was looking into my soul and exclaimed in Creole, “You must pray to God to save your faith!”  I’m not sure what shocked me more—that she knew my heart or that I understood what she had just said. Now I’ve come up with non-miraculous reasons why I might have understood her, but I’m sticking with the Holy Spirit explanation.  For half an hour she prophesized to me.  She said that was God preparing me to minister to those who are hurting and that I must—right now—pray to God to save my faith. He her words not only brought me to tears, they brought me back to God and reassured me that the calling I had felt years ago was real and that God could accomplish great things through me if I have faith that it can happen.

That night Paul had a dream: A Macedonian stood on the far shore and called across the sea, "Come over to Macedonia and help us!" The dream gave Paul his map. We went to work at once getting things ready to cross over to Macedonia. All the pieces had come together. We knew now for sure that God had called us to preach the good news to the Europeans.

So, in a couple weeks I’ll be in Kamina following the map given to me in a vision. All the pieces are coming to together.  And I am preaching the good news to you, as Ma Tante preached the good news to me.  You must pray to God to restore your faith.  You must do it right now. God is preparing you to minister to those in pain. You are a light in the darkness. It doesn’t matter where you do this, just do it.  Listen, it is what God is calling you to do.   No-- right now, let us pray to God to restore our faith.  

Creator God, you have given us so much and request so little in return: to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with you.  You have promised that we will receive power to cause miraculous when we trust in you and asked the Holy Spirit into our hearts.  You have promised that when two or three of us agree upon anything, it shall be done.  And yet, we do not really believe you.  We suspect you exaggerated.  And we certainly don’t think you’ve called us to heal the world.  We’re not talented enough, we say.  We don’t have the time, we say.   But, you, oh Lord, you know our hearts and our deepest desires.  You know we’ve heard your call and longed to answer.  Restore our faith. Give us strength.  Here we are, Lord, send us.


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