The South African Series

How Would You Like Your Sunday?

The churches in Plett are either established denominational churches (the Anglicans seem to have a strong presence here) or a disorganized smattering of miniscule congregations. None of the Americans that we know really GO to church here – I’m guessing because it’s not really their flavor – and does their own thing on Sunday. One girl does “home church” and streams her church’s services online from Savannah.

With that information in mind, Marshall happily suggested that we have a “church service” at home.

“We could sing a couple of songs and read one or two Bible verses,” he said.

“Cool. The kids might like that.”

Last Sunday we presented our idea to the kids.

“That sounds boring,” said Nadjah.

“Yeah,” said Aya. “That doesn’t sound fun at all!”

“We haven’t even done it yet and you’ve already decided it’s going to be boring!” I snapped.

“Okay, okay,” they said in unison.

So we woke up Sunday and went to the living room.

“What song would you like to sing?” asked Marshall.

“Can we sing Jesus loves me?” asked Aya.

“Sure!”

“We need microphones,” said Nadjah.

“Yeah, we need to cut out some microphones,” said Aya. “And we need a stage.”

“You can stand in front of the book case,” said Marshall.

“It doesn’t look like a stage!”

“Pretend it is!” I yelled.  “Or get a spoon.”

The girls despondently went to the kitchen and got spoons to sing into, muttering about the lack of wires and speakers the whole way. When they returned, we sang 3 songs and Marshall opened his Bible to read.

“Wait Daddy! You need a table,” said Nadjah with much urgency. “Bishop Hunt has a table when he reads his Bible!”

“I can read from the couch.”

“And you need a cup of water too!” said Aya, who was visibly distressed at the thought of Marshall reading the bible without agua to quench his inevitable thirst.

“I’ll be okay.”

He read his verses and nudged me to read mine. I read from Esther, which only served to confuse the kids.

“I thought her name was ‘Essie’,” quizzed Nadjah.

“That was from VeggieTales,” I explained with a sigh.

“Oh. Are we done yet?”

“Yup.”

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This Sunday we went to church in Qulwayne at the invitation of Thandiewa, one of the ladies who works at the church/YMCA/dance hall. I’d like to tell you about it, but I don’t think you can spare the time to go over the 50 song soundtrack we sang this morning.