hailing from africa
There was a cold wind blowing through the sea of buildings as we stood preaching in New York City’s Union Square. Many people were out, and the riffraff had stirred up the crowd, mocking the Gospel and the Lord Jesus Christ. At the end of a long day spent scrambling to get Ricky a replacement passport after his bag containing all travel documents had been stolen, it was good to meet up with familiar brethren to publicly proclaim the Word of God one last time in the United States before leaving home for a very long time. Amidst jeering, I mounted the step-stool and began reading from Isaiah 45: “Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker! . . . Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? . . . Look unto me and be ye saved all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else . . . unto me every knee shall bow . . . Surely, one shall say, in the LORD have I righteousness and strength.” No one seemed to care; a chorus of mockery grew louder; I thought of peoples from many nations where I had proclaimed the same message in the public forum--they had listened, they had heard. Immediately, Acts 13:46 came to mind. Paul and Barnabas were preaching in Antioch of Pisidia; it was the same type of situation. So, I took out my camouflage handkerchief and shook it at the Union Square crowd (and symbolically to all those in Charlotte, Hickory, Conover, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Richmond, and places in between who had recently reacted in similar fashion): “It was necessary that the Word of God should have been first preached to you,” I cried, “but seeing as you mock and judge yourselves unworthy of the eternal life found in Christ Jesus, henceforth we go to the nations. They will hear.”
By God’s abundant grace and mercy, I now write to you from the nations. And, yes, they do hear. Greetings, my beloved brethren, from the heart of old Rhodesia--Zimbabwe as they now call it--a place that has seen awful political genocide, economic turmoil, and immense suffering at the hands of a butcher (i.e. Robert Mugabe, may justice be done upon him) for the past thirty years. But alas, the people are gentle, kind, and welcoming. Unlike America, they listen to the preaching of the Gospel, and it’s easy to draw a crowd with the words of life . . . Wait a minute, I begun this update many days ago but am only now getting around to completing it . . . Greetings, instead, from Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. Here, we are staying in the home of an army officer and will soon head into town to preach in some crowded marketplaces. Tomorrow, a long bus ride takes us back to Johannesburg in South Africa . . . Still, I cannot get around to completing this post: it’s a week later, and we are back in Joburg with abundant opportunity to preach and refuge in the home of a precious believing family of English background,
The Bibles and Gospel materials made it safely to South Africa, despite two bags being completely torn open. Moreover, all the Bibles, save the last two we carry with us to the streets today, have been given into the hands of believers in South Africa, Zimbabwe, and Botswana who did not own or could not afford a Bible. Due to the abundance of false TV preachers all over the television in these African countries, being a Christian without a Bible to discern truth from error can be hazardous. Praise God that His Word got into the hands of at least a few.
Alas, I am getting ahead of myself . . . Let me say that the travel from New York to Johannesburg via Dubai back on May 24th was as smooth as I have ever encountered: empty airports, short lines, excellent customer service, nice airplanes, and hours that seemed to fly by. After the debacle with Ricky’s passport, we needed the repose.
With a six-hour layover in Dubai, United Arab Emirates (i.e. after a 13-hour flight), we left the airport, wading the 104-degree desert heat and looking for opportunities to share Christ, particularly with Nepali-speaking peoples who are known to frequent the place looking for work. The Lord helped us to find some, and Nepali Project Jagerna Scripture portions went into their hands. We also distributed tracts to some Indians, Bangladeshis, and a few Arab sheikhs. Though illegal to do so in Dubai, a Muslim nation, the Lord protected us from the prowling eyes of the authorities. He gave us the wisdom of serpents and the harmlessness of doves (Matthew 10:16). ‘Twas a good outing with time for Indian curry and a shower inside surprisingly clean and free facilities at the airport. The 8-hour flight to Johannesburg was only about half-full, so we got entire rows upon which to stretch. Exhaustion from the heat and excessive walking in Dubai made it easy to find slumber.
Upon our arrival in South Africa back on May 25th, it has been a whirlwind of labor for the Word of God and the Testimony of Jesus Christ. Things began with a 3-day evangelism training at a small church in Olieven, a true shantytown north of Joburg. The believers were grateful for the teaching, and many joined us for an open-air crusade in a nearby park. If interested, you can actually hear some of these training sessions on FPGM’s podcast. Ricky and I also did some house-to-house, or should I say shack-to-shack, evangelism with some of the local brothers and then made a run into Joburg to preach in the open-air at Witwatersrand University, the institution of higher learning that Nelson Mandela once attended. A couple of solid young brothers from East Cape joined us, and the fellowship was sweet. Many students heard that day.
From Olieven, we made the long overland journey up to Bulawayo in Zimbabwe to partner with Brother Kimberly Dube and Fountain of Life Ministries for a couple of weeks. I have corresponded with this brother for several years, and it was a joy to finally see his face. I was impressed with the Fountain of Life Church. Not too long ago, it was meeting in Bulawayo City and facing financial difficulties associated with a sudden and unreasonable increase in their meeting place’s rent. This body, earnestly desirous to be faithful stewards of the Great Commission, dealt with the situation by dividing the body so as to multiply and plant new churches in various outskirts of the city. Now, this church has become six new local bodies, including one in the Engamwini neighborhood that the Lord allowed us to help jumpstart. In preparation for the first meeting in a nearby rented schoolroom, we canvassed the neighborhood with the Gospel and held open-air crusades at dusk for three straight days. Ricky and I were honored to preach at the very first service and to see a room full of people. That day, an elderly blind woman and her somewhat mentally-deficient son came to the Lord. Another young lady, whom we had previously encountered on the streets, came to the service and later informed that she had been seriously contemplating suicide. She claimed that God recently gave her a dream in which she saw two white men coming to preach. The Lord told her to go and hear. She did and was so grateful. Suicide, she claimed, was no longer an option. I was truly humbled by this revelation. Glory to God. Ricky and I also preached in all the other church plants, encouraging the brethren and attempting to exhort them through training unto bold evangelism. Our last night in Zimbabwe, we visited the church out at Kilarney, a true shantytown that made the poorest man in America look rich. The gathering place was a flimsy framework covered by a collage of tin, and a few candles were all that could dispel the night. We preached hard, many came to hear. There was a joy in those poor believers that one rarely sees in American churches. I was humbled. And, those souls were so grateful for the Bibles we brought. Thanks to those of you who were a part of this. As for Fountain of Life Ministries, their strategy in dealing with financial difficulty and dividing to multiply is New Testament. Why had we come to teach them? It was they who taught us, and their example should be a loud rebuke to American churches content to grow large, comfortable, and spiritually fat with biblical evangelism and church planting far cries from the agenda in the monthly “business meeting.” Please continue to pray for Pastor Kimberly Dube and the small churches that he oversees. Please pray for his leaders like Mafa, Bebe, Shelton, Godfreid, and others who are shepherding these flocks. May the people continue the work of bold evangelism in an oppressive country with a vile dictator. Strange though, Zimbabwe’s situation . . . political oppression powered by a state-run media that makes people utterly afraid to even discuss politics, yet seemingly great freedom to preach the Gospel in the streets without trouble. Usually, political dictatorships result in the persecution of the church, but not in Zimbabwe. As long as one stays out of politics (very hard for Ricky and I to refrain from publicly rebuking that vile beast, Robert Mugabe, but had we done do, we should have “disappeared” within a few hours), repentance and faith can be preached with fire and zeal. The police or Mugabe’s thugs don’t bother, and many will gather to hear.
While in Zim, we traveled up to Victoria Falls with Brother Kimberly and preached in Zambia, in the town of Victoria Falls, and to those gathered to see the mighty waterfall, one of the seven so-called wonders of the world. On one occasion, I was standing on the Zambezi River Bridge, with one foot in Zimbabwe and one foot in Zambia. I lifted up my voice to preach Jesus Christ. The white tourists mocked, one American saying, “I will bow to no one;” but the Africans gathered and listened with intent. Many heard as I proclaimed, “All praise to the Maker of the mighty waterfall!” We walked into Zambia up to the border police post and preached to the people stuck in customs. Many heard and begged us for Bibles. We had none left; I wept. Later that night, we preached inside and outside a huge tavern in Hwange. It was amazing to see the Lord put conviction in the hearts of those drunks, the response being a far cry from what we typically see outside a bar in the States. Please pray for Vengane, a young man who, though intoxicated, came under deep conviction. We gave him a Bible, put him in touch with the local pastor of another Fountain of Life church plant, and prayed with him right there in the dusty parking lot. It was a divine appointment.
Oh, there is so much more I could say about our time in Zimbabwe (tavern preaching, bagging peaks, rural villages, bucket baths, endless sadza, African bush, insane taxi drivers, dangerous roads, a couple of near-death experiences, Ricky provoking crocodiles and hippos, temptations to preach against Robert Mugabe by name, etc.). Much else happened as we went into homes, preached in the streets, and saw people come to Jesus Christ. I wouldn’t even know where to begin or how to conclude in constructing a detailed recap. Just know that the Word went forth. More than a week ago, we were deeply saddened to bid farewell to our brethren in Bulawayo. At that point, our return journey to South Africa took an unexpected veer as Kimberly drove us to the Botswana border. We then hitched a ride into Francistown and by that night were preaching in a canvas tent on the side of a road where many had gathered to hear the Word. The next couple of days were spent with solid believers from Winning Life Church. We did some street evangelism; Ricky and I preached at the nightly revival services that happened to be taking place; and we saw people come to Jesus Christ. As we were going house-to-house in a village area, one young man overheard us witnessing to an elderly lady inside her gate. He stood outside eavesdropping for awhile. Upon notice, we invited the fellow in, giving him one of our few remaining Gospels of John. He listened and then later came to the revival service. That night, he gave his life to the Lord.
Africa is home to much witchcraft, and there is a lot of demonic manifestation that we aren’t accustomed to seeing in the United States. Satan, the Evil One, seems to have two primary strategies. In the Third World, he oftentimes uses fear to confront those that know and believe in the spiritual realities, manifesting himself as an angel of darkness. Demonic activity seems prolific. I have encountered this in South Asia, particularly in the realm of Tibetan Buddhism. In America and other Western countries where people think themselves too smart and civilized, Satan’s greatest victory has been convincing people that he doesn’t exist, wielding deception, his other great weapon, and often manifesting himself as an angel of light (II Corinthians 11:13-15). As the late Keith Green once penned in a song detailing this from Satan’s perspective: “I used to have to sneak around, but now they just open their doors. No one is watching for my tricks because no one believes in me anymore.” Anyway, in Africa the Satanic intimidation is off the charts. People live in fear of devils and goblins, and demon possession is as common as it was in Jesus’ day. Our first night in Francistown, while Ricky was preaching, a lady started writhing and vomiting as soon as the name of Jesus Christ was proclaimed. She eventually calmed down and later came forward with two men, desirous to be born again. As it turned out, she was the mother, and the two men were the uncle and brother of another young man who was recently born again. This new Christian had been known as a very wicked person in the community and now wanted to be an influence for the Gospel. He began by bringing his family to come hear the preaching. Anyway, a demon came out of the mother that night, and she, though feeble, seemed to have some respite. However, the eyes were empty; she wanted salvation but could not seem to embrace it. The next day, Ricky and I were going house-to-house in the area around the tent with a couple of local believers. We passed by a house inquiring and briefly spoke to a woman we later discovered to be the daughter. We ambled on. Later, we learned that the demon-possessed mother from the night before was in that house. As we passed by, she stumbled into the bathroom, was thrown down on the toilet, and claimed to have birthed a giant snake (Only God knows if this stuff was real). The daughter went running to the tent in fear and found the pastor. She begged him to get the white men and come back to pray for her mother. We returned to that place, gathered all the items of witchcraft together for burning, prayed over the house, and confronted the mother again with the Gospel. My friends, judge for yourselves, but Ricky and I saw two demons come out of that woman, and the last tried to kill her before leaving. These even spoke to us in voices that were not hers. All I knew to do was follow Michael the Archangel’s example set forth in Jude 9. We did not argue with the demons, entertain their speech, or hurl railing accusations. I simply said, “The LORD rebuke you,” and we preached Jesus. Those demons left. The woman we thought to be dead got up and gave her life to the Lord. We gathered all the items previously given to her by the witch doctors, took them outside, and burned them to ashes. That night, she was at the tent meeting. There was a glow on her face that reminded me of the demoniac in Mark 5 after Jesus healed him: “sitting, and clothed, and in his right mind.” This woman had been changed as had her family. In fact, just yesterday, I received an email from Pastor Chibwe detailing how they had begun having a Bible study in this woman’s home. He expressed how she remains a different person and how thankful the family is to have their home free of devils. All praise to the Most High God! In the same night, four more souls came to the Lord. Was it real? Oftentimes in America, people come forward and pray a prayer as if Jesus is some sort of flu shot. Many such prove later to be false converts. Is it the same here? The Lord knoweth, but we do rest in knowing that the Gospel was clearly preached: people showed signs of visible conviction, and one woman was clearly delivered from devils. Pray for those convicted who cried out to the Lord, that they will continue in the faith and bring forth fruits meet for salvation.
Again, we were sad to leave Pastor Chibwe, our newfound brethren in Francistown, and the kind hospitality that these showed toward us, just a couple of ragtag traveling preachers. Oh, please also pray for B, a young man who sought us out after one of the tent meetings. He expressed a desire to go into ministry and claimed to have had a dream in which two white men came telling him what to do. He came to us, two young white men, inquiring. We opened the Scriptures and showed him what he must do. Pray for him. All the divine appointments, all the preaching, all the providences of the Most High God . . . there is so much more that I could write.
From Francistown, we made the long journey down to Gaborone, desirous to preach the Gospel in Botswana’s capital city before returning to South Africa. The Lord, through Pastor Chibwe up in Francistown, put us in the path of an army officer that opened his home to us. He was gone most of the time on duty, but opened his nice little pad up to complete strangers. What a blessing! There, in Gabs, we preached down at the main bus park and in the city center. Gospel tracts (the few that we had) went out as did a couple of Bibles. There were some good divine appointments. I think of an in inquiring woman who said, “I really want to be born again”; Jeffory, a believer who chased after us under conviction and desirous to stop drinking and partying; a drunk with a humble spirit; a man named Sollis; and Mokonoki, a Zambian Christian who had serious checks in his spirit concerning the TV preachers. We spoke with the latter for a long time, praying with him and encouraging him to preach the Word in the streets. The time in Gaborone was great.
Since the long bus ride back to Joburg last Sunday, we have preached at Park Station, had opportunity to minister to some disabled folks in a home, and have returned to the Olieven ghetto. Moreover, we spent most of yesterday preaching in the streets of the Tambisa ghetto. At one intersection, a giant boulder made for a great pulpit. Many heard. One lady begged us to come to her home and pray over her sickly son. We did so; I believe the man was riddled with AIDS. The huge shantytown in which these lived, my friends, makes a place like South Chicago or Compton, California in the States look like a billionaire’s paradise. Oh, so filthy, so poor . . . we prayed over that young man, and gave the elderly woman the only Bible we had. She was weeping as we departed. In that shantytown, we also distributed socks along with Gospel tracts. The people seemed grateful and heard the Gospel. Later, we actually got into a public school and preached Christ to a classroom full of children. This would never happen in America; praise God for the opportunity. Yesterday, the tenor of our open-air preaching was to plead with the masses to stop putting confidence in corrupt politicians and charlatan preachers on the television and to put their trust in the Lord (Psalm 118:8; Daniel 4). In boldness, we exposed and rebuked wicked beasts like Jacob Zuma, Robert Mugabe, Julius Malema, T.B. Joshua, and others by name while exalting the true King, Jesus Christ the righteous. You can actually hear one of these messages of FPGM’s podcast.
Well, it is Africa, and the Lord has allowed us to behold some of the wild beasts of the field. Back at Gabs, we hitched a ride out to a nearby bush area where we saw rhinos, a giraffe, various antelope, wildebeests, zebras, big kudus, and a couple of cheetahs. Ricky and I stumbled upon the latter resting under a tree. Amazingly, they let us approach and pet their furry heads. The purring was loud and sounded like a freight train. One issued a warning with a quick nip to Ricky’s hand, but nothing serious, just a warning. This was an amazing gift from the Lord; those beautiful creatures were a testimony to the power and might of an unfathomable Creator. Back in Zimbabwe, we spent a day out in the bush of Hwange National Park. There, we saw an elephant, herds of giraffes, big crocodiles, hippos in the water, zebras, wildebeests, impalas, and lots of baboons--all at home in the wild. It was glorious and rejuvenating. All praise to the Maker of the great beasts!
Well, I better sign off. Hopefully, I can post this update today. The internet is so unreliable in these parts. Pray for us. We have a few weeks left in South Africa. Ricky was turned down for a Pakistan visa back in Johannesburg upon our initial arrival. So, we will not be going to Pakistan. After Osama bin Laden’s assassination, Pakistan is no longer issuing tourist visas, at least that is what they told us. So, from the African Continent, Lord willing, we will be traveling to India, rendezvousing with my family shortly thereafter, and then traversing to Nepal to labor with Bishnu Shrestha, our national partner, in some difficult work. Ricky still needs to get an Indian visa to replace the one lost when his passport was stolen. Presently, we are waiting on approval here in Joburg and should know something soon. Please pray for this; it’s no guarantee. Pray also for financial provision for our work. I mentioned in my previous update that I lost a job of five years that had helped to sustain my family and Full Proof Gospel Ministries. Several days ago, I received word that a church who has faithfully supported us for several years will no longer be doing so. This was $300/month, and such comes as a big blow to us and the national believers we have been able to support in various locales. Please pray that the Lord makes up for this. Committed monthly support is a lifeline that helps us gauge our missions strategies and direction. Oh well, we press on as planned. Going forward in this journey just became a little bigger step of faith. “But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).
Glory to God, for I have been all over North America, South America, Europe, and Asia; now, the LORD has allowed me to see Africa. And, I am thankful to have Mr. Ricky Springer alongside, a faithful travel companion who does not complain, though he encounters the Third World for the very first time. Much as transpired since we walked away from Union Square, there has been abundant opportunity to preach in the open air, and the prayers of many have been answered. Thanks for holding the ropes as we go to the nations.
We love you. Peace be with you all.
Jesse Boyd