Although I am back from my trip, there are still some things I want to tell you about.
The weekend before I left, I attended the Mizoram Presbyterian women's conference. This is what 10,000 people looks like:
The women in front are dancing, sort of. The dancing in the Presbyterian churches here is more like walking around in a circle, always counter-clockwise, I was informed. All the indigenous praise music is a steady 4/4 beat in major keys and most of the melodies would be perfectly at home in a US country-western bar. Of course, the lyrics are praising God and Jesus. This steady rhythm, marked by a drum that resembles our bass drum, lends itself to just walking around in time to the music.
The event was held in a temporary structure which is owned by the church and erected at the site which is chosen for that year. The women are crammed onto low, backless benches. This picture is taken from the stage, where I was privileged to sit. My friend who took me is the head of the group of theologically trained women in Mizoram and as a person of consequence, she is entitled to sit on the stage in a plastic lawn chair with arms and a back. I became a celebrity as the only white person there. I was also in view of everyone, which became a problem as I walked through the crowd and people began pulling at my clothes in order to get me to stop and take pictures with them.
Unfortunately it rained most of the weekend. We were just about up to our ankles in mud. In some places, they had laid down boards to walk on. In some places, there were a few scattered bricks. I, having no illusions about style, wore my athletic shoes. On the other hand, most of the attendees were all dressed up, including heels.
I was told that some of the people were 'charismatic', but I was not expecting to see a few women turning somersaults in the mire, some passed out on the mud-covered astroturf, and some just moaning and wailing. The Mizo people are very non-judgmental, but it also appears that they have very little discernment. On the last day, one woman who was covered from head-to-toe in mud was throwing handfuls of mud at the participants and saying "God bless you." When I casually asked if anyone was going to cast the demon out of her, I was told that no one can judge another person's spirituality. Their recommended reaction is to just ignore her. Some on the platform with me were snickering.
Although I could not understand the sermons, I got the gist of the direction of the main speaker. He was really excellent, solidly capturing the attention of the people. The theme of the conference was "Prepare to meet your God" from Amos 4:12. His first sermon was about returning to 'Poppa'. He told a well-known story in English about a man who wanted to be reconciled to his son and put a an anonymous ad in the paper: meet me at the Hotel Montana, all is forgiven, Poppa. Eight hundred boys showed up for that meeting. The preacher's point was to be reconciled to God. During his second sermon, he said in English 'simple gospel' and mentioned Abraham and Moses enough for me to know that he was expressing anti-nomian sentiments. I didn't ask anyone for the translation; I got one from the folks I met in the evening.
Since the whole conference was in Mizo, I was mentally exhausted after the four sessions I attended, in addition to being chased as some commodity for picture taking. I opted to stay back in our lodging on Sunday night. The house is owned by Seventh Day Adventists, of whom there are very few in Mizoram. These people own a bakery and the lady of the house came up to bring me some fresh bread. She related to me that she had told her father of my presence, a white Jewish lady staying in the apartment upstairs. She said he had never met a Jew in his life, so I asked her if she wanted me to come downstairs with her. She was delighted.
Mr. Hrangsata (pronounced 'shrangsata') is 89 years old and his wife passed away just six months ago. His family was in the Presbyterian church when he was growing up, until his brother went to work in Burma and brought back the 'Sabbath truth.' The whole family began to follow SDA teachings, including Sabbath and Biblical dietary laws. Hrangsata was 27 years old at the time. They were the only family in their village to believe and came under persecution by the rest of the village. He is still quite sharp and had lots of questions about Israel and the Palestinians. Unfortunately, he does not speak any English, so the conversation was a bit strained. He expressed his own frustration at this, saying that if only I spoke Mizo, he would have so many questions to ask me. After his daughter translated the history of Israel and the so-called Palestinians from my English account, he came to the conclusion that the problem will not be solved. Yes, I agreed, it is a 4,000 year old problem that only the return of Jesus will solve.
It was so wonderful for me to be able to speak with some like-minded believers after being exposed to some of the general deception at the conference. The old man and his family had been watching it live on the television and we agreed that teaching in holiness is generally lacking. It was also an honor for me to be able to fulfill the dream of one old man, to meet a Jew.
The weekend before I left, I attended the Mizoram Presbyterian women's conference. This is what 10,000 people looks like:
The women in front are dancing, sort of. The dancing in the Presbyterian churches here is more like walking around in a circle, always counter-clockwise, I was informed. All the indigenous praise music is a steady 4/4 beat in major keys and most of the melodies would be perfectly at home in a US country-western bar. Of course, the lyrics are praising God and Jesus. This steady rhythm, marked by a drum that resembles our bass drum, lends itself to just walking around in time to the music.
The event was held in a temporary structure which is owned by the church and erected at the site which is chosen for that year. The women are crammed onto low, backless benches. This picture is taken from the stage, where I was privileged to sit. My friend who took me is the head of the group of theologically trained women in Mizoram and as a person of consequence, she is entitled to sit on the stage in a plastic lawn chair with arms and a back. I became a celebrity as the only white person there. I was also in view of everyone, which became a problem as I walked through the crowd and people began pulling at my clothes in order to get me to stop and take pictures with them.
Unfortunately it rained most of the weekend. We were just about up to our ankles in mud. In some places, they had laid down boards to walk on. In some places, there were a few scattered bricks. I, having no illusions about style, wore my athletic shoes. On the other hand, most of the attendees were all dressed up, including heels.
I was told that some of the people were 'charismatic', but I was not expecting to see a few women turning somersaults in the mire, some passed out on the mud-covered astroturf, and some just moaning and wailing. The Mizo people are very non-judgmental, but it also appears that they have very little discernment. On the last day, one woman who was covered from head-to-toe in mud was throwing handfuls of mud at the participants and saying "God bless you." When I casually asked if anyone was going to cast the demon out of her, I was told that no one can judge another person's spirituality. Their recommended reaction is to just ignore her. Some on the platform with me were snickering.
Although I could not understand the sermons, I got the gist of the direction of the main speaker. He was really excellent, solidly capturing the attention of the people. The theme of the conference was "Prepare to meet your God" from Amos 4:12. His first sermon was about returning to 'Poppa'. He told a well-known story in English about a man who wanted to be reconciled to his son and put a an anonymous ad in the paper: meet me at the Hotel Montana, all is forgiven, Poppa. Eight hundred boys showed up for that meeting. The preacher's point was to be reconciled to God. During his second sermon, he said in English 'simple gospel' and mentioned Abraham and Moses enough for me to know that he was expressing anti-nomian sentiments. I didn't ask anyone for the translation; I got one from the folks I met in the evening.
Since the whole conference was in Mizo, I was mentally exhausted after the four sessions I attended, in addition to being chased as some commodity for picture taking. I opted to stay back in our lodging on Sunday night. The house is owned by Seventh Day Adventists, of whom there are very few in Mizoram. These people own a bakery and the lady of the house came up to bring me some fresh bread. She related to me that she had told her father of my presence, a white Jewish lady staying in the apartment upstairs. She said he had never met a Jew in his life, so I asked her if she wanted me to come downstairs with her. She was delighted.
Mr. Hrangsata (pronounced 'shrangsata') is 89 years old and his wife passed away just six months ago. His family was in the Presbyterian church when he was growing up, until his brother went to work in Burma and brought back the 'Sabbath truth.' The whole family began to follow SDA teachings, including Sabbath and Biblical dietary laws. Hrangsata was 27 years old at the time. They were the only family in their village to believe and came under persecution by the rest of the village. He is still quite sharp and had lots of questions about Israel and the Palestinians. Unfortunately, he does not speak any English, so the conversation was a bit strained. He expressed his own frustration at this, saying that if only I spoke Mizo, he would have so many questions to ask me. After his daughter translated the history of Israel and the so-called Palestinians from my English account, he came to the conclusion that the problem will not be solved. Yes, I agreed, it is a 4,000 year old problem that only the return of Jesus will solve.
It was so wonderful for me to be able to speak with some like-minded believers after being exposed to some of the general deception at the conference. The old man and his family had been watching it live on the television and we agreed that teaching in holiness is generally lacking. It was also an honor for me to be able to fulfill the dream of one old man, to meet a Jew.
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