Faith

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HOPE, GIANTS AND LIVING
by
Japhet Mphande

It was Friday morning; the sun was negotiating with the clouds to have its rays scotch the ground. A good number of theologians – college staff and students had filled the room to have their souls advance a purification mark.

A guest lecturer, Professor Louis Zbinden was to share the spiritual dish of that day. The hungry and the less satisfied sat together to munch and strengthen their spiritual hearts. Why are the less satisfied with us here? Ah! the problem is that the spiritual food is never enough and will never be. They all gazed at him as though they were eyeing food on the table.

Behind a mobile pulpit, the professor emerged, dressed in a black suit, a white shirt and a tie whose colour I am still not quite clear of and black moccasin shoes. His hairstyle was neatly titivated. His eyes, behind thin spectacles, which from my position looked frameless. I later discovered they had a thin gold-like frame.

He brought everyone to the attention of God and he prayed – giving thanks, glory and honour.

After that he said, “Turn to the book of 1 Samuel 17:1 –, and read along with me if you will.” Everyone was willing, bibles were opened and pages caught flips to the wanted text. As he read, his voice was rising like thunder and falling like dust.

“The reading has ended at the forty-ninth (49th) verse of that chapter,” he said with a sigh of relief.

He observed the rules governing good reading and good story-telling. His reading was both mesmeric and impeccable; he made a brief stop where a comma was, and made a full-stop where a full-stop was, and changed tones as the bible story dictated.

To start his exegesis, he retold this famous story about the young boy named David and the giant bully going by the name of Goliath. David leading the Israelis and Goliath commanding the Philistines on this 41 day of the battle each camp descending from a mountainous base.

As he went on retelling the story, I caught vision of the two nations along the front line and the situation was boiling, with the giant, Goliath striking David’s heart with a stream of insults and curses. Spears jiggling in the air for a jiffy. A retreat by any of these two groups to the mountain base was a setback resulting into casualties and deaths. I spared my minds for that horror and rejoined the professor.

The word of God seemed to be up for grabs, everybody was conquered by the power of silence. Others seemed to be calculating their spiritual transformation whilst glued to their positions and fixing their eyes at the professor.

The preacher continued with more and more touching words which impregnated stillness.

Whilst it was still quiet, he took everyone on a journey of thought through a story of his personal experience when in was on a vacation in France. Everyone went along with him viewing the beautiful scenery of the town before we reached our destination which was also the beginning of everything.

He said, “We’ve giants around us – those we see and those we don’t see. The obstacles to our lives – economic, social, physical and spiritual. Terrorism and HIV/Aids are the other global giants threatening a good life. But how do we win these?” He challenged the flock.

“David,” he paused and continued, “saw power of deliverance in the living God. Remembering what God did for him in the past, gave him power to encounter Goliath – the giant. Some of these giants I call them the d’s and f’s .

“Yes, the d’s” he flashed them, “despair, defeat, depression, discouragements, diseases and later deaths.” He paused, taking a snappy look at the audience that was already in dead silence. “The f’s,” he said before unrolling them out on his tongue as though they were hot – “failure, futility, frustration, finality.” His list closed up.

Rebellion, and its two young sisters; witchcraft and dishonest crept in my minds to add on to that list but I immediately expelled them and gave them a decent burial. They rested for I needed a stable mind to continue enjoying the message.

Now, the intensity of the silence was more than that of being absorbed by fear. No one dared to shift their tongues or teeth. The chorus uttering as some members in other such worship gatherings would do – ‘a voice yelling singly and an itching pitch – “talk to us brother”, another voicing “tell them pastor” hot on the heels another one echoing at an elongated rate A-lle-lu-jah!” Such fixed behaviour could have been seen as sin of lacking seriousness at such time of spiritual deliverance.

Even if one was to claim that it was the Holy Spirit behind such shouting it would have been better for such a one to just sit. The only person, who could have mouthed something acceptable besides the professor, would have been one manifesting evil spirits in their shouts.

I withdrew my gaze to look back, and one of the persons who usually said he had never heard a perfect sermon was silently negotiating with a wide smile falling on his lips. This should be a perfect sermon for him, I thought.

The professor continued with his sermon, “God gives us a new perspective on things, remember Nicodemus. God always gives us a second chance. We are looking into the unknown future and we are facing the known and unknown giants.”

With a wry smile he ended: “Jesus gives us power to look beyond the giants and we know that; life is stronger than death, and hope is stronger than fear.”

I gazed through the window, the clouds were breaking up releasing the captured sun’s heat and promising to be a good day.

THE END

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