I LOVE Junior.
I know this must seem obvious...you all know that most of my favorite ministry moments and evangelism opportunities involve him, and how much I
But seriously. I do.
The Bible talks a lot about what the body is supposed to look like, describing the way we live together as family, as brethren. But there are few I have been able to learn and experience "brother" with as I have Junior.
Today was no exception.
Belo was supposed to preach at "tent church, corner of l'Accul du Nord, 10 am." Belo instead had to preach somewhere else, and thought Dr. Bill would. Then, Dr. Bill had to preach at Vilmer's church in town, so the group of weekend students (5-6 guys who live too far away to go home every weekend) promised that they would cover it.
But, come Sunday morning, well...nobody likes to preach tent churches (read: super hot, super simple, super not-classy) and nobody likes to preach 10 am services (read: super hot, super long day, get home super late.)
But, Junior had promised that they would, and I had promised that I would take
SO, at 9:45, Junior and I and the two girls piled in the truck, which now smells HORRENDOUS. Blood-vomit-urine mixture. Soaked into the seats. Let's just say I think God was trying to help me learn yesterdays "give give give, turn the other cheek" lesson because He KNEW what the truck was going to smell like baking in the sun this morning. OH man.
ANYWAY, piled in the truck, and headed for "tent church, corner of L'Accul-du-Nord."
So, turns out, those aren't really great directions. We combed one end of l'Accul to the other, and saw no big tent. We tried to call Belo. No answer. We tried to ask people, but people who aren't IN church at 10 am on a Sunday morning tend to not KNOW much about churches. The Smell. The Sofie. The Staring.
All to no avail. Finally, a kid on a bike takes us all the way back OUT of L'Accul-du-Nord and down a different street, which is apparently where the "corner" part of the directions was supposed to lead us.
We get out of the meat-pit truck, and approach a huge UNICEF tent only to realize that I knew that smile...the pastor was Henri Claude, graduate of a few years ago.
We go into the oven of a tent church (which I successfully convinced Lily was fun, like camping, until the sweat was pouring and she realized why Junior was the only one with us) and despite the 20 benches, there were only 2 benches worth of people there...spread out among the 20 benches.
Everyone was trying to make it real fancy, real formal, especially because the foreigner was there. Junior leaned over a few minutes in.
"Um, I don't think I'm supposed to preach what I was going to preach."
"OK, preach something else."
"UH, Stace, you know I don't like to preach. It took me a long time to put together this sermon."
"Yeah, but if you don't feel like that's what you're supposed to preach, preach something else."
"UH....uh...I think I'm supposed to preach what I preached in Baron."
"GREAT, preach that. But you're not making a ladder this time. No machetes."
My joke was rewarded with a very nervous smile. Ah, June. Preaches the Gospel like nobody and nothing matter but Jesus, like no one I've ever heard, and still hates standing before people every time.
So after a few hours of singing, announcements, prayers, and wrestling a sweaty Sofie to the ground, Junior was up, and Henri Claude asked him to please talk about himself for a few minutes so everyone could "know his great importance."
There were a lot of things about this little church that were just struggling. A lot of "red flags" in the first portion, a lot of indicators that there were some mis-aligned priorities, and messed up theologies. I wondered how Junior could make a difference, could bring Christ to the situation in just 40-50 minutes.
Christ in Junior brought Christ to the situation immediately.
Junior stood up shyly.
"Uh," Junior said looking down. "I'm Junior. I know Pas wants me to tell you about my importance, but all I can say about myself is that I'm nothing. Nothing but that He loves me and is in me. So I have nothing to share but Christ. My only importance is Him."
No one knew quite what to do with this very culturally-opposed declaration.
"And, uh, could everybody just come up here, so we could all sit together, and study the Word?"
Nobody moved until Henri turned around and motioned for everyone, trying to keep up appearances of a "full" church, to do what Junior said. Everyone clumped in the front 2 benches, and began to realize that no pompous French diatribe was coming. Just 20 people, just the Bible, just a study.
He pulled back out 2nd Peter 1:1-15, pulled out a twig ladder that a boy outside the tent had thrown together for him, and started sharing the pearl of great price, the steps we must work towards, "applying all diligence", that we might not be rendered useless nor unfruitful in our knowledge of Jesus.
It was awesome. Really powerful, really scriptural, really practical, just great. I could read from the back (where I was still fighting sweaty Sofie to the ground) that several people were glued in, some weren't paying any attention, and one guy, as Lily pointed out loudly, was very asleep.
But Junior shared as if he had an audience of One, as he always does, and the Spirit and His qualities just exuded.
When Junior sat down, no one got up. Every time anyone sits, someone gets up to do the next thing. This was the time for the pastor to get up and share a "summary" or devotional from the sermon, but Henri Claude stayed where he was.
I thought maybe the extreme heat and long message had put him to sleep, as well, but after another few moments, he slowly stood, and turned around to face us. He was crying.
His eyes puffy and red, he faltered, then after quietly sharing a distorted jumble of apologies and confessions that I really didn't understand, he took a deep breath, and said, "More on that later. I need time to pray. The point is, the Lord has spoken strongly in my heart today."
And there was no denying it. There was no more show, no more French, no more speeches. Just Henri and his touched heart, moved humble and transparent by the hand of God.
It is a holy moment to stand in the presence of one deeply and unexpectedly touched by God, miraculously transformed from the person he had appeared to be an hour earlier.
And my brother sat back down beside me, immediately took Sofie and smiled at me like, "Hey! How ya' doin'?"
Perhaps the reason Junior is so able to be used by God is because his spirit is so unaware and unfocused on whether he IS being used by God.
He refuses to be an obstacle of God pouring living water through him by focusing on what God is doing through him. Junior is focused on The Source, and unconcerned with anything else.
And he's my brother. Stinky, sweaty, single-handed, 10 am, tent, whatever. It's a gift, a gift, to be family. A gift to be of no value except that I am loved by HIM.
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