A Lutheran In Senegal

Mission Accomplished—and a Job Well Done

Yesterday the Community Center Galle Nanondiral and the EELS celebrated the contribution of two of its longest serving and most faithful employees, both of whom will retire from service at the end of 2008.

 Fapy Sene was the first person recruited to work at what is now CCGN, even before the building had been completed or the program had fully taken form. When missionary Dan Hart (Senegal, 1984-1992) first met Fapy, he was the guard at the house that Dan later rented. As Dan said in a letter sent to CCGN director Aly Ndione, he sensed immediately in Fapy a person he could trust. He kept him on as a guard when he rented the house, then offered to bring him out to Yeumbeul to act as a guard for the new center they were developing. For the next 24 years, Fapy would work six nights a week, eleven months of the year, as Galle’s night guard. As people paid tribute to Fapy yesterday, they all offered a variation of the same theme: Fapy was always on time, never fell asleep on the job, and during those 24 years, CCGN was NEVER a victim of a theft, at least not on Fapy’s watch.

Baboucar Gassama’s official title at CCGN is “commis chargé de la maintenance” which roughly translates to assistant in charge of maintenance, which is not the most accurate. First, Gassama was never anybody’s assistant, at least not after he had been fully trained by Dan Hart in numerous handyman skills—plumbing, electricity, masonry—to complement his own master training in carpentry. As I said at the reception yesterday, our first day in Yeumbeul I heard John Spaulding (Senegal 1989-2003) say, “we better call Gassama,” about a plumbing problem. Little did I know this would be the first of thousands of occasions that I heard myself or someone else utter the same sentence: “we better call Gassama.” In addition to being un homme de tout-faire (someone who can do anything) Gassama was consistent and at times insistent with his invitations; our family has celebrated most, if not all, of the past seven year’s Korités and Tabaskis with Gassama and his family. His parting words to his CCGN colleagues were a reminder that although American missionaries founded the center and hired most of them, CCGN now belongs to them and to the community, and he encouraged them to do their best—both as a duty before God and in honor of all those whose work has preceded them—to remember that the service they provide to the community is a legacy they can leave to their children and their children’s children. “It’s up to you now to continue what has been started here.”

CCGN Director Aly Ndione summed up the sentiment for the rest of those present: yes, we were sad that they would not be a part of the everyday life and work of the center. But we are so proud of the example they have left us—of loyalty, hard work, and dedication to the community—and that they have earned a bit of rest and relaxation after so many good and hard years of work. Mission Accomplished, he told them both. I might also add, paraphrasing a more biblical expression of appreciation and gratitude: well done, good and faithful servants.

Jamm ak Jamm,
Peter

“…Good News of Great Joy for All People.” (Luke 2:10)

It was late and it was long, but last night’s Christmas Eve service was several steps in the right direction for the increasingly diverse Dakar Parish of the Lutheran Church of Senegal (Église Luthérienne du Sénégal, or ELS). As part of the festivities planned for late night service, each of the various languages represented in the parish were asked to present one or more songs.

This may sound like no big deal, but it is a major milestone years in the making. With 5,000 members, the ELS is the largest Protestant Church in Senegal, but still very much a minority among a minority, as no more than 5% of the population is Christian, and about 98% of Christians are part of the Roman Catholic Church. The ELS is itself strongest in rural Senegal, particularly in the villages and towns around Fatick, one of the traditional bases of the Serer ethnic group. As I’ve said before, one of the ELS’ greatest strengths is the lengths to which it has contextualized its worship and prayer life, particularly in the area of music.

In cities like Dakar and St. Louis, the core of the Lutheran congregations is made up of people from village churches in the Fatick region that have come to the big city, usually for education or work. Like immigrant churches in the West, these urban parishes become oases for strangers in a strange land; for most members of the Dakar parish it just may be the only time during their week that they’re not part of a visibly small minority, ethnically, linguistically, and especially religiously.

So for such oasis-dwellers to give place to others can be hard. For some people it may just be a question of habit and routine. For others it’s a question of pride of culture, and of “holding on to the language of the heart.” Meanwhile, the parish has been diversifying, with university students from other West and Central African nations, plus Philipe Badji’s extended family, missionaries from the US and Finland, and families of Pulaarophone Christians finding their home there.

Pastor Dib Ndong has been working slowly but surely to bring out more of the diversity in the parish. For some it has seemed too slow, while others just aren’t so sure. But last night marked a high water mark. There was just so much variety, so authentically presented and so warmly received, that this is, for me at least, a very encouraging sign. It was as if, suddenly, right here in Dakar, there was a multitude of the earthly host praising God and saying “Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill.”

“Huuna hakka siat, an atémit akañe,” sang the Diola group (Philipe Badji [r], his daughters, nieces and nephews), “This is the day that the Lord has made.”

“O Jomiraado, Cennido, Cennido,” sang the Pulaar group (Oumar Diallo [r] and his son, Djibril [l]), “Holy, holy is the Lord.”

“Away in a Manger, no crib for his bed,” sang the Anglophone group (l-r, Peter, Simon, Elijah and Sarah Grow-Hanson)

“Hosiana, Hosiana, Hosiana Y'Alla Borom Bi,” sang the Wolof group (the Ndong family, who are actually native Sererophones, but who sang in tribute to their dear family friend and Wolof literacy teacher Rama Soumaré who died last week). Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna to the Lord our God.

It was good news of great joy for all people. Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill. Let all the people say amen.

Merry Christmas,
Peter

The Juxtaposition of Faith and Feasts

Elijah, Sarah and Simon decorate our Christmas tree on the morning of Tabaski

We have the tradition in our family of decorating for Christmas little by little beginning on the First Sunday of Advent. Usually, it's been the weekend of the 2nd Sunday in Advent that we decorate the Christmas tree, but this year that weekend was just too full--basketball practice and soccer tournaments, a wedding to attend, SIT's Final Celebration, the Dakar Parish's spiritual retreat, plus a houseful of ELCA missionaries singing their hearts out (see previous post). The good news was that with the boys out of school for three days, we had extra weekend time to work on the tree. 

And so it was that we found ourselves busy decorating for Christmas as most of our neighbors--and Muslims throughout world--were preparing for Tabaski, or Eid al-Adha, the festival commemorating Abraham's obedience to God (to the point of being willing to sacrifice his son) and God's faithfulness to Abraham in providing for him. As Simon and I climbed to the top of our stairs to find our artificial tree we noticed an eerie silence throughout the neighborhood.  More to the point: in stark contrast to the previous few days, there were absolutely NO sheep bleating anywhere in the near vicinity. 

We stepped out on to the roof and had a great panoramic view of families on the block at various stages of slaughtering their sheep in remembrance of God's faithfulness and Abraham's sacrifice. Then we went back downstairs and put up our tree, strung it with lights (in remembrance of the One True Light who had come into the world) and decorated it with everything from creches to stars to family photos to shiny balls. It was a great reminder that here in Senegal Christian faith and practice exists along side (and often totally enveloped by) Muslim faith and practice.

Later, we went to the home of Aly Ndione and Mariama Tine, friends and colleagues from Galle Nanondiral and Le Soleil preschool. As we have done every Tabaski since 2003, we shared in the feast with the Ndione family, prayed for the meal and for their family, and were greeted warmly by their many neighbors who stopped by. By the time we started for home, most of the residents of Malika and Yeumbeul had donned their new clothes and were off visiting one another, exchanging the traditional tabaski greeting of "forgive me," and "may God give us another year together."

Since Tabaski moves--it's about 10 or 11 days earlier each year--it's not always so closely juxtaposed with Advent and Christmas. Next year it will certainly be during the week, if not the day of Thanksgiving. That seems appropriate, as we celebrate in both occasions Family, Faithfulness, and Feasting on the good things God has provided us.

Baal Ma! Forgive me all the wrongs I have done you this past year
Dëwënëti! Su Feke Dëwën! May God give us another year together!

Peter

 Sarah, Aly and Peter--our Seventh Tabaski with the Ndiones!

(Tabaski is a lunar and movable holiday, so there were two Tabaskis in 2005, one in January, one in December...)

Advent Singing

(left to right, Sarah Stadtlander, Mytch Dorvilier, Viking Dietrich, Dirk & Ellen Stadtlander)

One of the great strengths of the Lutheran Church in Senegal is that they have taken very seriously the task of contextualizing worship, including their hymnody. Songs we sing in church tend to be Senegalese (or at least African) melodies, and as often as not the words have been written in Serer or Wolof, and then (sometimes, not always) translated into French. The result is an authentically Senegalese experience; the downside for us is that we don't get to sing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," or "Wake, Awake for Night is Flying" during Advent, "Silent Night,"  or "Away in the Manger" during Christmas or "Thine is the Glory" or "Christ the Lord is Risen Today," during Easter.

So, once or twice during the year, usually at Advent and Easter, the ELCA missionary community gets together to sing. It's a great time to be together, and to sing some of the songs that we don't get to sing much in our respective worshipping communities. We also share mulled wine, Christmas cookies, and, at least this past Sunday, great Lasagna!

(Sarah playing piano with her lovely assistant Page Turner (really, it's Anne Langdji...)

Advent Blessings!
Peter