Transforming ministry in rural Burundi
A Baptist church and Community Bible Study have had impressive impact. But some family problems are all too familiar.
Members of the pygmy community in Musema, Burundi display their handmade pots. The woman in the middle created a finished shape from a ball of clay in about 10 minutes, achieving a perfect-looking circular form with no tools except her hands.
Even when compared to Bujumbura—Burundi’s largest city, only about 80 kilometers away—Musema feels like another world. But it is also one where the presence of God’s people is unmistakable.
I left Bujumbura on Friday afternoon, October 24, with three representatives of the Association of Evangelicals in Burundi: vice president Clement Ntampera, youth programs director Jean-Baptiste Ndayizeye, and Julien Nsengiyumva, my translator and director of the AEB’s pastor training program. We intended to reach Musema around dinnertime. But about halfway there, on a climb so long that teenage boys on bicycles were daringly grabbing hold of the back of trucks to hitch an uphill ride, everything came to a stop.
We sat for an hour next to a verdant hillside where wild goats roamed, feasting on banana peels tossed from vehicles. A roadside vendor said a truck had tipped over and people were working to upright it. There are no alternative routes.
Embouteillage (traffic jam) had already become a familiar word for me after five days in Bujumbura, but this one was the worst. As a result, darkness surrounded us when we reached the point where the pavement turned to dirt. We crawled along at no more than 20 kilometers per hour, frequently coming almost to a complete stop as Julien negotiated bumps and holes in the road. Finally, our four-hour sojourn ended at a small guest house where Pastor Leonidas Nsengiyumva (no relation to Julien) of Musema Baptist Church was awaiting us.
The next morning, I discovered an impressive compound of sturdy brick structures overlooking a stunning agricultural valley. A Baptist mission reached Musema in 1928. Today, the site hosts a thriving church of at least 300, a boarding school with 400 students, and farming operations.
I had been asked to present my perspective on what makes a good marriage. (My wife laughed at the idea that I was an expert on that topic, but she wasn’t in Musema to express her opinions.) I was amazed to see about 70 attentive adults show up for a Saturday morning session that lasted over two hours.
The discussion and questions contradicted the common description of African Christianity as a mile wide and an inch deep. Rather, these believers tucked away in a secluded tropical community exhibited good Bible knowledge and a humble determination to apply God’s word to their daily lives as they grappled with the realities of marriage relations. Based on Ephesians 5:21–33, we discussed the meaning of the husband’s headship role and how a woman can respect her husband if she is the primary wage earner.
Our two afternoon trips in Musema were especially memorable. On Saturday afternoon, we traveled for about 10 minutes (probably 3 kilometers) to a pygmy community where the women make hand-crafted pots to earn income. (The pygmies are still shorter than average in height, but intermarriage has reduced the difference.) We were welcomed with songs, dances, and messages of their spiritual joy while one woman turned a ball of clay into a nearly completed pot in 15 minutes.
On Sunday afternoon, we visited a nearby home where 50 women, a pastor from the church, and the village leader had gathered to tell us guests about their experience with Community Bible Study. Many came with their Kirundi-language study guide for John 1–10. One explained how her study had given her boldness in explaining the gospel to neighbors. The pastor said the women do door-to-door evangelism (although he should have said “house-to-house” since the homes have no doors).
On Sunday morning, I spoke at the 6:00 a.m. service for the students and the 8:30 service for the adults. The adult service went on for more than three hours before I spoke, with half a dozen choirs performing. A woman who had just given birth to triplets was given 20 minutes to share her testimony and a song.
As I observed the congregation’s exuberance, I realized that Sunday morning for these hardworking Musema Christians is not only a time for joyful worship but also the most colorful, entertaining time of their week. But one of my hosts explained another, more somber factor that motivates long worship services.
I had gotten a hint of the somber side toward the end of our Saturday discussion on marriage, as three women poignantly described family situations in which their husband was not helpful or was not bringing money home from his work. I Invited one of them to talk with us afterwards. Her non-Christian husband had a job but was going to the bar after work (yes, this rural community had a bar in each of its two tiny market districts) and coming home only to sleep. Their oldest child, working in Bujumbura, was sending money home to cover the two youngest children’s school fees and help to feed the family. I encouraged this faithful wife and mother to tell her husband that she still loved him but that until he was ready to break free from his addiction, she would need to focus her energy on her own and her children’s needs.
Apparently the impact of drinking is greater in rural Burundi than I would have guessed. When I asked Julien for an example of how members of a congregation like Musema Baptist might spend their limited money unwisely, he answered, “Alcohol.” He then told me a story.
“When the Europeans came to Burundi,” Julien explained, “they saw that alcohol was a problem for the people here, so they told the people that drinking alcohol was a sin. That worked for a while. But eventually, some Burundians traveled to Europe and saw European Christians drinking alcohol. They asked, ‘Why do you say this is a sin if you do it yourselves?’”
We talked briefly about the resulting impression of hypocrisy, and then Julien made a perceptive comment that illustrated his spiritual maturity: “But I can see why they said that. It was the only way to get Burundians to stop drinking. Telling them to drink in moderation would not have worked.”