Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Baptisms

Avoiding Turkana bicycles as we straddle the road
After church we had a quick lunch and then piled into vehicles for the 1.5 hour trek on the ‘road" to Lake Turkana. It's the worst road I've ever been on.

We were in  4-wheel drive Toyota, which was a good thing as we spent as much time off the road as on it. 

Our speed varied from a high of 30 miles per hour to a crawl. I was in the middle back seat, sandwiched between the videographer and the soldier from the Kenyan Army who was accompanying us for security (we have two on security 24/7).

Joseph, one of our great Christian Kenyan soldiers doing security
As we sweated and banged together with the dust from the road coming in through the open windows, Joseph the soldier fell asleep. With the muzzle of his gun bouncing in various directions, including a few inches from my face, I hoped he'd paid close attention in basic training to where the Safety latch is.


Dr Sammy was in the front seat and so I got to ask him how this great work with the Turkana people began. When he was studying in the U.K. he went to a missions' conference. Brother Andrew ("God's Smuggler”) challenged them to commit to world missions. Sammy says he was the "only brown face in the entire group."

Over the coming months as he was praying who God would have him reach, he saw a documentary on The Peoples of Africa, featuring the Turkana people. The vision was born.
Joseph, one of the pastors, checks his
cell phone next to a pile of scaled fish

Finally, we arrive at  Lake Turkana, the second largest Lake in Africa. Pelicans fly past us and land on the green-brown water. Sammy and I wade out a small distance to find a good baptismal spot. We stop to watch some Turkana girls expertly scale and gut fish on a small sandbank. A little further out we stop to watch a couple of boys and men untangle the fish from nets in their boat.

Baptized kids climb back into "Jonah" as the Nazi truck is now called
The shallows of the Lake extend quite a distance, so we settle on a spot just above our knees. Thirty-two young people, and some adults, have just arrived on the ministry's massive, WWII era Nazi truck. They were quite a bit later than we were, and a whole lot more uncomfortable.

For quite a few of them this is the first time they have ever seen a lake. They come to us in pairs, confess their faith in Christ as Savior, and are baptized on their knees.

A village chief and his very young wife are among them. It is a holy moment and, for some, a little scary; they have never been under water before. It feels very much like a death to them. And a rising to new life in Christ.

These are the born-again leaders of the Turkana  church of tomorrow.
A Turkana woman watches her goats in the shade