Jacob’s Ordination
Dr. David Bjorkquist and his wife Eleanor primary school students of the Hagbergs and ultimately had spent six weeks with Raymond and Nellie Faye Hagberg, who earn~d d~grees in the United States, he from Wartburg have lived in Tanzania for 33 years and in Bonga for about 15 Semmary m Dubuque, Iowa and she from Wartburg College in years. This is the third entry from Dr. Bjorkquist' s journal w:averly, Iowa. The bishop was from the Masai tribe, knew that has appeared in Pietisten.
While on sabbatical in Tanzania, we experienced the privilege of participating in the ordination of Jacob to the Christian ministry. Jacob was ordained in his home congregation in the village of Bonga. There he was surrounded by family and friends, those who knew him best and could share most fully in the celebration.
One of the first signs of the upcoming festivities appeared on Saturday morning — a Zebu heifer tied to a tree in the church yard. A member of the church council had gone out and purchased this animal that would be part of the dinner following the ordination service the next day. Zebu cattle are small compared to Holsteins or Herefords. They are used for many purposes: to provide milk and meat for food, and to be the oxen for farm work. The small heifer in the church yard was appropriately sized for a church dinner — considering there was no refrigeration to preserve any leftovers.
About midmorning, four young men from the congregation and a Muslim elder came to the church yard to do the butchering. Butchering skills appeared to be widely held among the people of the village. The Muslim elder performed the killing according to Muslim law so Muslim guests at the ordination could eat the meat that was served. (An estimated 90% of those living in the village were Muslim.) The heifer was laid on the ground, and her legs were tied together. The young men turned her according to directions from the elder. They stretched her neck, and he cut her jugular vein so her blood would flow into a pan and not onto the ground. Within a couple hours, sections of meat had been hung in a storage building for overnight aging. Out in the sun, rice that had been cleaned was drying on a canvas so it would be ready to cook for the meal. In the church yard, short leafy tree branches were being stuck in the ground and tied together to form a wall to hide the cooking place from the view of the worshipers.
On Saturday night we went with our hosts, Ray and Nellie Faye Hagberg, to Babati town, about 10 miles from Bonga, to have dinner with guests who had come for the ordination. Jacob and his wife, pastors from the local district, the bishop of the Arusha Diocese, and several of his staff were there. The dinner was served at the guest house of the Bible School of the Church of God where those from out-of-town were staying overnight. Although Babati is a town of over 20,000 people and is the first large town on the highway south of Arusha, there was no restaurant that could serve a meal for the 20 or so people who were there that evening and there was no hotel or motel to accommodate those needing overnight lodging. There were places in Babati called hotels, but they did not have rooms. Men, mainly, gathered there to drink tea and visit during the day. There were rooms in some small guest houses to accommodate travelers.
During the dinner, I had the opportunity to sit next to Thomas Laiser, the Arusha Diocese Bishop. My wife Eleanor was seated next to his wife. The Bishop and his wife had been primary school students of the Hagbergs and ultimately had earned degrees in the United States, he from Wartburg Seminary in Dubuque, Iowa and she from Wartburg College in Waverly, Iowa. The bishop was from the Masai tribe, knew midwestern U. S. geography, and had been in Minnesota. He spoke of the growth of the church and of its needs. In July there were to be 900 baptisms among Masai tribe members. New congregations were being formed throughout the diocese. Leadership in the church was young and vibrant. At the same time, there were not enough pastors to serve existing and new congregations, and the seminaries were understaffed and short of textbooks and references needed to provide the desired education. Classrooms and housing for students and faculty had deteriorated with time.
The Masai people are different from most of the rural Tanzanians who cultivate farms. They are herders. The Bishop told us: “If there are no cattle, there are no Masai.” Cattle provide nourishment in the form of meat, milk, blood, and urine. They are the source of hides and dung that are building materials, and dried dung is used as fuel. The prized herds of cattle, goats, and donkeys are tended by spear-carrying men. The spears are personal identifiers, in part, but they also intimidate thieves and are used to fend off lions and others animals of prey on the plains which the cattle herds share with these wild animals. The grazing herds of wildebeest must be gone from the Serengeti at least a month before cattle can follow to avoid the infection transmitted by the wildebeest.
At Ngorongoro Crater we saw Masai herders with their cattle on one side of a water hole while zebras were drinking 100 feet away on the other side. During dry seasons cattle may be driven several miles to water holes so they can drink at least once every three days. As converters of sparse natural resources, the cattle make it possible for the Masai to live their simple but ingenious lifestyle. The Bishop spoke proudly of his tribal heritage.
On Sunday, the ordination service was held under the trees in the church yard at Bonga. Worship began with a procession of two choirs, Jacob, the Bishop, and several pastors, including the local Anglican priest. The singing, as we became accustomed to expect, was rhythmic, melodic, and enthusiastic. The preacher, a member of the Bishop's staff, never broke stride in his sermon when he told noisy travelers on a nearby footpath to be quiet. The Bishop, wearing a miter and carrying a stave, conducted the service of ordination. Jacob was surrounded by the several pastors who shared in blessing him. There was noticeable uneasiness among women in the congregation as Jacob’s wife, who already keeps a dairy cow and cultivates the farm, was called forward and given a lecture by the Bishop about her duties as a pastor’s wife. Many garlands of flowers were placed around Jacob’s neck, and some were given to the other pastors and to Jacob’s wife. Two teenage girls sang a tribute to Jacob in the many verses of a song they had composed.
It seemed that no one left before the dinner that followed the ordination service. Large platters of rice were brought to the benches where we sat so several of us there could share. A dish with meat juice and strips of beef was also served. Each of us had our own bowl and spoon so we could take rice and put meat juice and meat over it. We drank sweetened hot tea.
Several days after the ordination service, Jacob came by to work on his Honda 110 motorcycle. Actually, it was not his. He had to do some tune-up work before returning it to the church in Magugu where he had borrowed it. The cycle belonged to that congregation, and he had used it while he worked there. The bishop’s office had promised him another motorcycle so he could travel within his new parish at Erri, a two-hour drive away, and occasionally return home.
The significance of a new pastor going to Erri on a motorcycle can be missed. Although Erri was a distance many of us in the U.S. would be willing to commute, it was separated. Most people travelled to and from Erri on foot. Only an experienced driver would venture the trip in a high-clearance, four-wheel-drive truck. There were many places where a motorcycle had to be walked. It was unusual for a motor vehicle to come there. Most of us, in spite of the beautiful mountain setting and idyllic stream, would be uncomfortable with its remoteness and the absence of such services as telephone, electricity, health care, grocery store, and transportation. But this is a place where Christians come together to worship, where both Christians and strangers are welcomed, and where faith is nurtured. This is the ministry to which Jacob was called. In many ways he is there alone, separated from his family and home, but he is connected to all of us. In a way, the little motorcycle, with its need for constant maintenance together with its ability to travel the rugged road, is symbolic of Jacob’s call and the mission we share.