We’re Back!

 David Alan Black  

The word Ethiopia means “land of the burnt faces.” The country was named by the Greeks, who saw in it a far-off realm, populated by remarkable people and extraordinary animals. This Greek teacher would heartily agree with the ancients’ assessment. Despite the ubiquitous “faranji (foreigner) frenzy” – one never quite gets used to the children’s incessant “You, you, you!” or “Abba, money!” – Ethiopia is a traveler’s delight, and Ethiopians are ingratiating and charming individuals. One travel guide I read put it this way: “You arrive expecting to see human degradation and abject poverty, and instead you find yourself immersed in a culture besotted with itself and history, and marked by a sense of unforced pride that is positively infectious.”

Ethiopia is as elusive as it is addicting, and there is no possible way one can describe its charm – or its challenges. If I have learned one thing from my travels to Ethiopia it is the impenetrableness of its culture. One example: I still struggle with Amharic grammar and vocabulary, even though I have studied its close relative, Hebrew. I can therefore empathize with our newbie teammates from Virginia and North Carolina who were confronted with a totally unfamiliar culture and yet handled every challenge with grace, wit, and – when necessary – bravado.

One thing is clear after this, my sixth trip to Ethiopia in three years: by its very nature a visit is utterly indescribable. Never mind the faranji hysteria. What is really impenetrable are the social and religious customs, mores, and taboos. Instead of writing a lengthy report, I will offer both here in my blog and in my Ethiopia Files a series of photo essays – brief vignettes that attempt to capture the sights, sounds, and smells of what we experienced in Ethiopia. I also look forward to linking to the reports from our teammates from Bethel Hill, Tabernacle, and Union Chapel Baptist Churches as soon as these become available. Anyone who has been involved in missions recognizes the shocking level of misery and distress in the great cities of the world. The New Testament reveals that Jesus had compassion for the poor, the marginalized, and the oppressed of society. Ethiopia is a nation of dramatic contrasts. In Addis Ababa, 5 million people guzzle Coke while 60 million Ethiopians struggle to find clean drinking water. The number of street people in the capital continues to grow, the result of family disintegration and mounting poverty. The spiritual needs of the people are no less daunting.

I am painfully aware that anything except what Christ works in me is wood, hay, and stubble. I admit that I have struggled against my own lethargy on this trip as much as on any other I have made to Africa, and it was only when I tapped into the energy of One mightier than I that He was able to work. Despite a deep desire to do evangelistic work and to serve the church worldwide, I still find it difficult to forego indulgences and practices that are not in themselves sinful but that hinder the work of God. What’s more, I constantly do battle against my own thorn in the flesh that is intended to drain away my human pride and make me cast myself absolutely on the power of God. For this reason I have often sought solace in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. Paul’s natural talents and abilities were more than neutralized by his weaknesses, and yet God was still able to work through him. Paul was strong because he was weak; he set men free because he was in chains; he made men rich because he was poor. These are truths I set forth many years ago in my book Paul, Apostle of Weakness. They have never seemed timelier.

In Alaba I taught the book of Philippians, entitling my lessons “The Joy of Sacrifice” and dividing the epistle as follows: “The Evidence of Sacrifice, the Examples of Sacrifice, the Enemies of Sacrifice, and the Expressions of Sacrifice.” I could well have used the title “The Progress of the Gospel” (1:12), for nothing mattered more to Paul than the furtherance of God’s kingdom on earth. The letter’s first imperative confirms this truth (1:27, my paraphrase): “The only thing that really matters in life is that you live as good citizens of heaven in a way that shows how much the Gospel is worth to you.” I venture to say that this, too, is my desire and commitment – to live a life worthy of my calling and fitting to my character as a member of God’s New Society.

A big “thank you,” then, to all who prayed for us, and to those who went with us. I trust that you have returned to your homes and churches with a renewed mission consciousness, with a sense that your lives have a purpose in God’s plan for the world. And to all of you: thank all for investing your lives in the proclamation of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ to our world.

June 30, 2007

David Alan Black is the editor of www.daveblackonline.com.

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