Most people don't think of Jamaicans when they think of Ethiopia.  That is unless they know a little something about Rastafarianism.

Rastafari's believe that Ethiopia's Emperor Haile Selassie (Born 1892, Emperoro1930-1974) was the second advent of Jesus Christ.  As such, Ethiopia is somewhat of a holy place for them.  As a matter of fact, the city we stayed in all week, Shashamene, was home to probably the most famous Rastafarian, Bob Marley, for several years.

All of this is to introduce you to Larry.  Dreadlocked, beard wearing, song-singing, Bible-carrying Larry.  Larry is the owner of the hotel where we stayed and, though he is not from Jamaica (He is from Trinidad and Tobago), Larry is a Rastafarian.

From the start, we all greatly enjoyed being around Larry.  One of our interpreters began conversing with him about Christ.  This lead to a heated discussion with some of the funniest one-liners of our entire trip.  Larry is one funny Rastifarian!

The next night, several of us sat down with Larry, opened our Bibles, and began using the Scriptures to discuss the person of Christ.  Larry had several passages he believed pointed to Haile Selassie being Christ (Acts 2:30, Psalm 87:4, Psalm 2:12, and others) and even where marijuana was a gift from God (Ezekiel 34:29)!  He only used the King James Version Scofield Study Bible, so the translation we had was pretty different.

Needless to say, this made for an interesting conversation.  The hardest part was that he would agree with us about everything we said about Jesus, but applied them all to Haile Selassie as well.  Even when we would point to something in the Bible that went against what he believed, he would move to something else.  Or just stare at us.

Larry was fun to be around.  Larry was also very hard to share the Gospel with.  It was a great exercise in relational evangelism.  It was also a great way to make a new friend. We must never stop being or becoming friends with someone just because they don't accept the Gospel.  I truly enjoyed being around Larry and he seemed to enjoy being around us. I am praying for Larry and hope you will too.  I hope I get to go back to Ethiopia and I hope I get to see Larry.  Most of all, I hope Larry meets Jesus. Of course...Larry says he has.

One thing that strikes many Americans when they land in Ethiopia is the fact that animals are almost everywhere. Any patch of grass, even in the city, may have horses, cows, and sheep grazing freely.  And have no doubt, someone owns them and knows exactly where they are.

There was another type of shepherd I encountered while in Ethiopia.  These shepherds tended God's sheep.  Pastors who loved Jesus and wanted to see people come to know him.  As I looked into their faces, heard their stories, and watched their leadership, I saw men that had something powerful.  No they weren't perfect nor were they more spiritual because they lived in a difficult place, surrounded by hostility.  Yet in their lack of material possession, there was somewhat of a freedom and a love for Christ that is compelling.

There were the two church leaders from a church that was a three hour walk away.  They came that far to receive a Proclaimer, a unit containing the Bible, recorded in their language, that can be charged by an outlet, the built-in solar panel, or even the small hand crank.  They came this far because they want people to hear about Jesus.



Then there was the pastor in Arsi who was constantly with us, serving us even when we wanted to serve him and his church.  Worshiping and singing with gusto.  Praying fervently.  Counseling those who made a decision for Christ.

And there was the pastor from Kofele.  This young pastor with a beautiful family has a small bed in the back of his church.  I had seen pastors in Ethiopia give part of their home to be used as a church.  I asked if this was the case and was told that this was not his, but the bed for the guard they had to hire to stay in the church because they were in an area that is ninety-nine percent Muslim.  To say that those matter-of-fact words were sobering would be a gargantuan understatement.

No, these men are not perfect.  They have flaws and weaknesses.  But being in their presence caused a great sense of unworthiness to come over me.  They wanted us to teach them. I wanted them to teach me.  I pray that we accomplished both.

He couldn't have been more than seven years old.  And yet his "amen!" was just as loud as anyone in the church.  and his singing just as passionate.  He sat across from us every night in worship.  It wasn't just cute or adorable.  There was something about it.  Something I had to feel was more than a child emulating the adults around him.  This little guy seemed to display a genuine joy in what he was doing.  And when I preached at night he was focused.  And it seemed more than just wanting to look at the "feringe" on stage.  He seemed eager to listen

Later in the week, I grabbed one of our translators and talked with him.  I asked him if he wanted to be a preacher one day.  He said he hoped so.  I do to.  I prayed with him, asking God to raise him up as a godly man who is bold and filled with a love for Christ.

This little guy and the believers who gather around him live in a village that is predominantly Muslim.  Every evening during worship, the call to pray at the local mosque penetrated the air as we spoke of the one true hope of every person on earth.  Though ninety percent of their village do not worship Jesus, they do.  And they do it with a passion.  We didn't understand the words or know the songs.  We mostly stood and watched.  Yet what I saw was a people who love Jesus even though so many around them do not.

Sunday morning I shared with them from Philippians chapter one about the joy we have in Christ.  I quickly found I wasn't telling them anything new.  We weren't learning; we were celebrating together.  All of us.  Even my little preacher boy.

Thirty two hours on a plane. That's a lot of time to think.  Half of it in eager anticipation and the other half in mind-blown exhaustion.  Yet that's neither enough time to prepare or absorb the seven days we spent in a place I have grown to love.  I have spent the past several days trying to reflect on what transpired over the course of our journey.  My wife has begun to recount the various events and encounters we had on each day.  Because of that, I almost pointed any readers to her site without writing anything. (She is doing an outstanding job!  You can read it here.)  Yet you can't go somewhere this powerful and not at least reflect on what happened.  And that is what I decided to do.

I hope to reflect on what I learned, the people I met, and the experiences I had.  I hope you like them.

This November, we are returning to Ethiopia. While we are there, we will be doing a shoe distribution to people who have never heard of Jesus. Love meeting needs and introducing people to their Savior. Here is a promo video I made for our church.

This morning I brewed the last of the coffee I brought home from my trip to Ethiopia. It made me think of all of the people I met there, especially a man I have come to greatly respect. Afework Debebe is someone that has my utmost respect and admiration. Affectionately called "The Godfather," Afework is the planter of a house church network in Ethiopia. My friend Matt Setliffe who works regularly with Afework called him "a modern Ethiopian Paul" and in my opinion it is a perfect description. He wants people to know Jesus. It was amazing to see his love for the people, pastors, and churches. The pastors there look up to him and rightly so. Please take a moment and pray for a man you probably have never met. Thank God for men like Afework and pray that he and the believers in Ethiopia would hold high the glory of Christ for all to see. If you are interested, here is a video from the trip we took in November.



On a completely different note, I would like to share a quote from one of my favorite authors, A.W. Tozer. I read this yesterday and it was extremely challenging. I hope it helps you as you think about what hinders your worship and service of God.

It is only when we introduce our own will into our relation to God that we get into trouble. When we weave into the pattern of our lives threads of our own selfish desires we instantly become subject to hindrances from the outside. If I mingle some pet religious enterprise of mine with the will of God and come to think of them as one, I can be hindered in my religious life. Then I'll begin to blame whoever stands in my way and excuse my spiritual breakdowns as being caused by someone or something that is working to "hinder" me. A.W. Tozer, The Root of the Righteous, p. 148