But that is not what I want to write about.

I want to get out of my system the experience I had today (Sunday).

I asked a taxi driver whom I befriended and who has a cross in his car,
whether he was Orthodox or Protestant – the two main Christian
denominations here. He said in his very limited English that he was
Orthodox. The customs of the Orthodox church go back many centuries
and I asked him if he would take me to church today.

For the past 5 or 6 times that I have been to Ethiopia, it was so
pleasing to wake up at sunrise with the call and prayers of the Orthodox
church ringing out over the city. At the beginning I thought it was
coming from a mosque but then they corrected me that the Orthodox church here also does its calling and praying over a public system.

This morning 6.30 my driver picked me up. He told me the previous night that I had to dress neat with a suit or otherwise I must take a white robe to clothe me with.

On our way there we saw thousands of Ethiopians walking to the church.
Coming from slums where their last hope is Christ. Where the next meal
is dependent upon the scrap they can find on the street.
Women all dressed in white like the brides of Jesus. Streets filled with people.

At the church, which is built like a domed cathedral, the grounds were
filled and we had to make our way to the doors. Outside was a sense of
reverence. No talking. No noise. Just people in awe at their God.
Hundreds. They stood there listening to the Word like a person who for the first time could hear. Falling to the ground on their knees to pray and kiss the holy ground.

To get inside we had to kneel in the door. Prayed to the Almighty. Took off our shoes.   And then we stood with the men in silence while the priests were singing and praising the Lord in Amharic the traditional  language that is linked to Hebrew.

I could not understand anything, and [the driver] did not have the words to interpret.
I just went with the flow. Felt the Holy Spirit open my heart, open my
eyes and when they said words of praise I just spoke in Afrikaans and
English and joined them.

What struck me most of all was the holiness, the reverence, the knowing that “we are in the presence of God”. I think it is the way Old Testament Israel would have felt and acted when they had their feasts  and when the holy offerings were made.

The presence of the Lord was palpable. All one’s senses could feel it.
I was touched by it. If you put out your hands I think one would have felt God’s presence as a physical object.

And the people around me, the smell of poverty rising from their clothes and dirty faces, shone as if the light of the Holy One was upon them.
They kissed the floor; they touched the walls, they fell on their
knees.They kissed the ground. With my head close to them when we
knelt, I could hear them kissing the ground and praising the Lord.

They were in complete awe of the Almighty God.

Then I went back to the hotel and waited about 30 minutes for my next
church visit.

I asked my host, who is a Protestant (read Evangelical) if I could go to church with him. His church offers three services per Sunday – one in English and 2 in Amharic. Each service attracts about 1,200 people.

When we stopped I had a sense of being at home. Children running around. Colourful clothes. Smiling faces. The music oozes from the building. In the entrance someone greets you and welcomes you.
Inside music worship is underway. I was at home.

I felt my heart turn to jelly when I heard “our” Hillsong songs. I
jumped with joy. As my host said, “The same Spirit in  Australia is also here with us.”

And was it not ironic that the theme of the message was “Bring back the awe”.   Bring back that feeling of a new-born in Christ, to whom the light shines into all corners of darkness. To whom fear does not exist. To  whom doubt is taken away by the love of the Lord. To whom all hurt has been handed to his/her Saviour.

I felt my spirit lift. I could feel the presence of the Lord again. And I could not keep my hands of praise still.

In front of me where two Ethiopian children. The age of my children when we moved to [our present church]. And my thoughts went back to those early years  with them. My eyes filled with tears. My voice left me. And I became the helpless once again.

When we left I reflected. And I will reflect for the rest of my life on this day.

The praise of the one – the awe of the other. The singing in one – the
silence in the other. The strength in the one – the helplessness in the other.

And I realised, they each had a half of the answer. Together they form a ‘whole’ of the body and spirit of Christ. And for one day in my life, I experienced that wholeness.

Why did I write this? I dont know. Perhaps because I am alone. Perhaps
because I could not keep my fingers still – they wanted to write.

[Names removed]

December 2010