Kampala, Uganda

Friday July 13 I took a trip out to the site of where 42 royal servants were tortured and burned alive, wrapped up in reeds. The first missionaries to Uganda strategically targeted the servants of the royal family to make in roads into the Buganda Kingdom. However, the old benevolent king who was sympathetic to Christianity died, and his son took power and killed off the monotheists: Protestants, Catholics, and a few Muslims. The site was pretty interesting and had a bunch of clay figures to try to "reenact" the scene. The tree where they were tortured has huge gashes where pilgrims to the shrine teared the bark away to keep as relics of the saints. Pope John Paul made a visit to the site, and it remains an important Catholic site of martyrdom. Beside the site sits a small struggling Anglican seminary. 70 students, 5 full time faculty work diligently in the woods there to further education and develop the future church leaders of Uganda. Going back later that afternoon to Uganda Christian University was like going from grey to a burst of color and life. The University is only 15 years old, but is bursting at the seems and is already the 2nd largest University in Uganda. The atmosphere around the campus is one of progress, hope, and excitement for the future. The students are stylish and attempt to be cosmopolitan in their own way. They speak in English in their conversations rather than their local dialects. They hope to be the movers and shakers of the next generation to move Uganda into a brighter future. It is encouraging to be here in such a place of great hope and potential. But I see also so much innocence here too. Their grasp of Western culture is still quite idealistic and naive. Though most hold to strong evangelical Christian beliefs they are inadequately prepared to face the onslaught of liberal ideology and postmodern deconstructionism. If given time, it would butcher them. I expressed my concern to Canon John who agreed with me, and suggested that I give a talk open to the student body on the subject. I quickly agreed. I'm scheduled to address the student body on Tuesday morning. Saturday July 14 Canon John is an exceptionally loving and devout man. He went to seminary back when Amin was president and suffered persecution in the 1970s. Most of his classmates that he had in seminary are now bishops or vicars of large parishes. And though he is a canon (someone whose job it is to guard the church against unsound doctrine), he doesn't have the social status that many of his colleagues have. But he continues to life a life committed to the Church and to Christ. Canon John has a habit of taking orphaned boys and tucking them up under his wing and helping them get off the ground. According to tribal tradition, if a man wants to marry a woman, he goes to the woman's home before the tribal elders to ask if he can marry her. If permitted, a huge party ensues and the couple is considered lawfully married. Now for modern Ugandan Christians they continue to follow this tradition, but more with the function of being a formal engagement. On Saturday we drove 4 hours on terrible roads out to Eastern Uganda to a small town called Mbale. One of Canon John's orphan boys was getting married and had to go to his fiance's town to go through the ritual before the elders. Somehow I got roped into being an honored guest and part of the groom's entourage. The men all wore these long robes with blazers over the top, and the women wore clothing resembling saris. We processed in to the meeting and sat in plastic chairs under a weathered canopy. There was a masters of ceremony with a cordless microphone who paced back and forth making jokes and trying to get a reluctant crowd to clap. After a series of rituals of having different sets of women come out of the house and finding the bride, then the women finding the groom among the guests, another long set of long speeches were made with introductions were made of all the VIP guests who were present: 5 clergymen, 1 doctor and his wife, aunts and uncles, grandparents, ect. ect. I was beginning to fade when they finally announced dinner. The VIP guests all went inside the house to have dinner, while the rest of the 200 people ate outside. We left surprisingly quickly (it is my observation that Africans are especially good at greetings and introductions, but quite negligent and poor at farewells. You could sit down for a whole afternoon with someone, and then just get up and leave without saying goodbye, and nobody thinks twice). We then drove the 4 hours back to Kampala. Sunday July 15 Canon John sent me with his driver in the University Land Cruiser to church. I arrived at Namirembe Cathedral as the choir was singing and asking for money to go to Nairobi to compete in a choir competition. The service was good, however I somehow completely spaced out for the entire monotone sermon an old Chaplin gave on Abraham's faith. I met the curate of the cathedral who invited me to his home for a short visit. He used to be an instructor working for Uganda Airlines, and then got a call one day from the Archbishop of Uganda enlisting him into the ranks of the clergy. He followed orders and is now posted at the cathedral.I then made the 10 minute jaunt across town to All Saints Cathedral and met the vicar. I was a bit surprised to find that the vicar was a woman. Very sharp, very composed, with a gentle seriousness about here. She was wearing a white alb (a robe) with a hood draping down her back, and modest high heels. She was articulate and careful. She had worked in South Africa for 13 years in an all white parish. She told me some stories of how she and her husband, a fellow priest, had tried to bridge the gap left after the apartheid. Though I said nothing, the question of what I should do about a devout Anglican woman vicar pounded my head. I don't believe that women are called into the priesthood, and I believe that it is cultural pressures, not Scriptural pressures that brought women into the priesthood. But like it or not, here they are. They are sincere. They are competent. They are loving. They are usually quite effective and efficient. And they are parts of Anglican provinces that I am in communion. For goodness sake, the Archbishop of Rwanda approves of women in the priesthood. I suppose it is a question to wrestle with more in the coming years. When I went up for communion during the service that followed our conversation, I intentionally received the elements from the male provost...just to be on the safe side. After the service at All Saints I spent some time int he provost's office chatting and exchanging our stories of how we got be both sitting there together. I headed back to Canon John's house for the afternoon to take a much needed nap and rest up. I offered to take Canon John, his wife Joy, and his daughter Hannah out for dinner at an delicious Indian restaurant. Canon John made satisfied humming noises, and polite comments about how good it tasted. Hannah put on her 19 year old self-conscious air of indifference on, and periodically texted messages to her friends. Joy had never had Indian food before, and her eyes kept darting suspiciously between the curries and the nan wondering what to make of it all. When she took the last bit, she finally said, "I think I have just gotten used to the spices! I like it. I think I will come back to this place. Soon!" I couldn't really tell if she meant it, or if she was trying to make me feel better about taking her to a strange restaurant, but we left with full stomachs and smiles.