Justin Bukamuye stood in the doorway of the church. His face was lifted to the warm wisp of air, and his liquid black eyes searched the far reaches of land with an eagerness he could not conceal. His people! God's people!
"Thank you, Lord," he murmured in his native tongue. "Thank you for such a perfect Easter Sunday morning!"
The breeze moved again, stirring the treetops and ruffling the low-growing flowers. Heavy-headed sunflowers nodded lazily at the throng of people passing by.
Ah, yes, they were coming! Black-skinned children of every size and stature! Some wore clean, almost new clothing, while others were clad only in ragged fragments of cloth. But they were not aware of the difference in clothing. Only one thought occupied their hearts. It was Easter in western Tanzania, and this great crowd of people had walked for many weary hours to attend church.
The Ibugu male Christians strode forward with heads thrown up proudly. Their bodies were straight as arrows, but their hearts felt a profound love mingling with the pride. This was their church! They had built it through their own blood and tears and sweat. They had built it on prayer and faith.
The women, almost without exception, carried a baby. Yet, even with the incessant burden of life, they never seemed to tire.
The pastor of the church left the doorway and strode forward to meet the maze of colorful garments coming his way--reds, blues, yellows, and greens. It was a veritable sea of color.
As Justin Bukamuye drew nearer the crowd, sounds of singing grew clearer. OH, how they sang! It was more than words; it was a clarion call. The sounds blended, rose, and fell. Their song was one, and their hearts were one. "He arose...He lives...You ask me how I know...Within my heart!"
They rejoiced in the one who had brought light into their darkness, life where only death had reigned; they rejoiced in the Christ of the cross whose blood had washed away their sins.
Shouts of greeting passed back and forth from the native pastor to his flock. Would the church ever hold that many people? He wondered.
Justin hesitated outside the church yard, waiting for the procession of people, when he became aware of voices behind him. Turning, he found that while his attention had been focused on the oncoming crowd, another 700 persons had gathered in the church yard. It was utterly impossible to go inside for the Easter service, for most of the people would be left standing outside the church!
There was but one thing to do, and Justin Bukamuye did it without hesitation. He moved to the highest possible spot, the great mass of people automatically forming a half circle around him. They swarmed in like bees, faces shining with an inner joy and expectation. To those who were forced to stand outside the church yard, Justin's face was only a speck in the distance.
The singing erupted spontaneously--joyous singing that caused those who had not yet experienced salvation to stand in wonder.
Suddenly, on the far fringes of the crowd that was a stirring. News had just come that a lioness had come into the village a short distance away and had attacked a cow and three goats, leaving them dead and bleeding. But the worst report was yet to come. The lioness had also killed a woman and her child!
Such news has a way of traveling quickly in a land like Tanzania, and scant seconds later a voice, loud and frightened, arose from the throng.
"The lioness is coming this way! It's coming straight for the church yard!"
Hearts were quickened by panic. Children began clinging to their mother's long, sweeping skirts. The men stood stiff, frozen, and uncertain as to what action should be taken.
There was no place of refuge, no place to hide from the fury of the lioness. And well did the people know that when an animal like that began to kill and the scent and taste of blood was strong upon it, nothing could stop it! It would attack and kill at random for the sheer pleasure of killing.
The native pastor took action. Swift and sure, he stood before his people. A shout fell from his lips, but his black eyes were fixed upon a tawny lioness that was swaying slowly toward the crowd.
Justin shouted again until every eye turned his way. Then, standing very straight, voice loud and confident, he cried out the words, "The God who saved Daniel from the lions is here! Do not be afraid!"
His people sensed some new authority come over their pastor as he came down among them. Like liquid, the people moved away to make a path for him. The atmosphere was charged, breathless.
Moving head-on to meet the lioness, Justin suddenly paused. He stood very straight, head up, shoulders square. His had went up. He pointed a forefinger at the animal and was met by an angry snarl. The tawny nose wrinkled back, showing rows of gleaming white fangs. Clearly it was eager for another kill.
"In the name," said Justin Bukamuye, "of the Lord Jesus Christ, I rebuke you."
Simultaneously as he spoke, something startling took place. A tongue of brilliant lightning flashed from heaven to earth, struck the lioness to the ground, and snuffed out her life in an instant.
The hush that had settled over the crowd was broken here and there by a wondering whisper. Then as the news spread, the whispers turned into a sea of questions.
"Lightning?"
Every lip was forming the word. Lightning? But the skies were a cloudless ocean of blue! Dark eyes turned toward heaven. Fears faded away, and great joy settled over every countenance. Questions changed rapidly to a faith in a faithful God who had come to save His own.
In total abandonment, Justin Bukamuye leaped onto the side of the dead lioness. Taking this for his platform, he began to preach the message of the power of the resurrected Christ.
"I Know That My Redeemer Liveth."
--Job 19:25
