Fourth member of the Trinity

George, Collin and Kim supervising the distribution of food

On Saturday, just before heading for home, I asked Kim what he was going to preach about the following morning. His joking-reply, “The fourth member of the Trinity”, instantly reminded me of a trip he and I took together several years ago...

It was November 2005, and Malawi, the warm heart of Africa, was in the grip of a severe drought. Our church in South Africa received a hefty donation to supply maize to relating churches in Malawi and we’d been asked to organise its distribution too.  The maize was bought and a small team, led by one of the church’s elders was to drive up and spend 5 days in and around Blantyre.

Unfortunately, at the last minute, the elder had to withdraw from the trip, and so, for only the second time in the history of that church, a team sans eldership input went out to share the good news, represent the kingdom and, while we were about it, hand out some food. The team consisted of three deacons (myself, Kim and a chap called Collin) and one pleb (George) from another church. The Landrover trip took 2 days – crossing through a ravaged Zimbabwe, into Mozambique (where we overnighted) and finally into Malawi.

Some ladies dividing up food on day 1.

George seemed a bit shell-shocked, this being his first trip up into Africa, and so uttered hardly a word, but for the rest of us it was right up our alley. We decided to cook for ourselves that first night under Mozambican skies, after a previous negative experience where the beef we ordered turned out to be donkey (well, we couldn’t prove it, but it sure was tough, didn’t taste like beef and we hadn’t seen any cows since South Africa...) We arrived in Blantyre the following evening exhausted but ready for the adventure.

On the first day we travelled to a most beautiful area north-east of the city – the tea-growing region of Mulanje – where we handed out a truckload of maize and Collin and Kim preached (if my memory serves me right). The second day we were going to drive a bit further afield, which required an early start. I got up, staggered bleary-eyed through to the room the other three were sharing and, when asked, boldly announced that I would be teaching on “The Father of God” that day. Well, needless to say, I was mocked for the rest of that day and for years thereafter about the fourth person of the trinity - grandpa to Jesus.

The congregation crammed into the little church

We arrived at the little church, and Collin preached up a storm outside (literally), which drove us into the steamy mud interior. While he continued speaking I watched the ladies collect rainwater, which was leaking through the grass roof, in their shoes, then pass them to the windows, where they would empty them out and start the whole process again. And nervously I waited for my turn to speak about the father-heart of God, the father-heart of God, the FATHER-HEART of God!

My mockers sat behind me as I launched into my teaching, and it all went pretty well. That was, until I called up a young girl from the front row to illustrate my point. Now understand this, many of these kids have never seen a white face before. Trying to show how much He loves us, I sat her on my lap and threw my arms around her in a mock embrace. At first she just looked shocked. Frozen. Statue-like. Terrified of what this stranger would do next. And then she let out a wail and fled to the safety of her mother’s arms. And that was the end of that teaching. I think Kim may have rescued the situation by summing up what I meant to say. I don’t really remember... The details have faded, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget the incident itself.

Later, once the rain had cleared, I practised my crowd-clearing ministry by chasing and tickling the kids, we handed out more maize, and headed back to our Blantyre base most satisfied... Two more days of ministry and food distribution followed but I didn’t teach again on that trip. I think Collin and Kim were too terrified about what would come out.

Since then, whenever I’ve been called on to teach in the many churches we’ve visited in Africa and here in Madagascar, I remember the tiny village in Malawi, the terrified child and the father of God...

Postscript: Kim now leads Tana City Church here in Antananarivo, Collin is on eldership at 3Ci in Pretoria, and George (now a good friend) is no longer a pleb ...