I’ve grown up in Africa, so I guess my life is different then if I spent it all in the United States. Don’t get me wrong I’ve been to the States, I even attended Public School for about six months before heading back over here.
When people hear the word “Church” they think of a building with pews and preparing to be bored for the next hour or so. For me church is either in my house’s living room with my Dad giving the sermon to our family, then later heading over to a neighboring village where he shares it in the language native to out portion of country. We meet under three large mango trees, men on wood benches made out of tree branches, children sit on the ground or wander in and out, women tend to sit on wooden stools, dogs lazily schmooze in and out of the clearing, pigs snort at the ground looking for food.
The people in this village used to adhere to Animism. I know some people think it might be quaint but it is not. Their lives were lived in fear of the spirits, fear of people cursing them, fear of places where the spirits lived. Then the people heard the Gospel and became interested in Christ. After a while a few accepted Christ and were baptized.
People may say that the members we have are small. But the number doesn’t matter, even if only one person came to Christ through my parent’s ministry it would be totally worth it.
Not only those who have been baptized come to our Church under the Mango Trees but also those who we believe have not been saved come to listen.
The Church isn’t just the building—it’s those who have accepted Christ as Savior. The believers are the Church. We don’t need a building to meet, we only need believers.