Vocation Matters

The road from Kampala to Bukoba is crisscrossed on the Ugandan side by periodic gates that control the passage of traffic. At some stops our driver must exit the vehicle to speak with armed guards posted at these barricades. Rifles carried in hands or slung over shoulders make a definite impression. At other places the stop is a mere formality. The guard swings the gate open and peers into the vehicle as we drive past.

At the border we run a gauntlet of similar gates. Paperwork must be completed on the Ugandan side as we leave the country. Similar documentation and a visa fee must be submitted as we enter Tanzania. A discussion is held about whether or not we are being charged more than the established rate. A document posted for public viewing lists the charges but does not agree with what officials tell us.

The line we walk between not being taken advantage of and not being offensive is a fine one. In hindsight it seems that less time is required for bureaucrats to change the fee schedule than for the posted notices to be changed in each immigration office. This kind of frustration is not unique to Africa. Cultures differ drastically but red tape seems a universal commonality.

The lady processing my immigration card looks up from her desk. “You are a minister.” Her words form a statement, not a question. My affirmation elicits a response. “You have chosen a good profession.” Her smile and respectful nod communicate more than words.

Only after we return to our vehicle do I learn how the rest of my companions are responding to the question concerning employment. They are inserting the word “teacher” to avoid complications. Somewhere along the line I seem to have missed the memo.


This isn’t the only memo missed. Officials have an aversion to guests taking pictures of military and governmental personnel, airports, and government offices. So photos like the one above are not a good idea. We didn't know that then.

We have come to lead a seminar and to offer instruction to a group of pastors and church leaders. I suppose that qualifies as teaching. Educators find wider acceptance when entering a country than do ministers. Religious affiliations have the potential of closing as many doors as they open.

A large part of what I do as a minister involves teaching. Every sermon is an opportunity to engage a congregation in aspects of spirituality they may not previously have considered.

An important part of teaching is helping people apply practically what they learn intellectually. Head knowledge that does not impact the heart or ignite a learner’s passion falls short of what education should be. I cannot conceive of preaching apart from the process of helping an audience find places where personal faith is integrated into daily life. That moment of discovery is the best part of what I understand teaching to be.

Academic pursuits that fail to make positive and tangible contributions to our life and the lives of others can become an exercise in irrelevance. People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. This seems especially true of spiritual matters.

For some people spirituality is an exclusively mental exercise with little or no practical expression in daily life. For others the practice of religion involves following prescribed rituals with little thought concerning the reasons or meaning behind them.

The first is irrelevant because it fails to make a difference in the way people live. The second fails to alter the way people think and therefore fails to shape their convictions. I suspect the disillusionment many express concerning organized religion can be attributed to one or both of these inadequate expressions of spirituality.

Something similar takes place in parenting. Some parents tell children they love them emotionally but fail to make provision for their daily needs. Their words have a hollow ring in the ears of the child. There are other parents who fulfill the duties of parenthood as though crossing jobs off a list. They fail to connect with children on an emotional level. The relationship between parent and child is less than fulfilling because relationships are about more than meeting minimum requirements imposed by duty.


In my mind a meaningful relationship with God necessitates the engagement of both the mind and heart. I seek to know the one who gave me life and to understand the purpose for which I am made. This requires a willingness to contemplate matters of faith and to act on resulting convictions. Internal devotion inspires external service and vice versa. If not, then the relationship will always be less than it ought to be.

The rational for couching one’s identity in the role of teaching when crossing the border is clear. Fewer questions mean fewer delays. You can’t minister unless you are able to get to your audience. Questions on the immigration card should be considered carefully.

However, my calling is to serve as a minister. When people are wounded, I’d like to be a part of the healing. Where there is loneliness, a personal presence and an expression of solidarity mean much. Where helplessness prevails, a source of hope is sought. Where there is conflict, a resolution which leads to peace and reconciliation is needed.

Someone has described ministry as the process of one beggar showing other hungry people where he has found bread. Faith in the One who made me is the source through which these needs are met in my own life. What has blessed me is shared in an effort to be a blessing to others.

If a return visit is made to Tanzania, I’m not sure how the question about employment will be answered. At this point in our journey “minister” fills the blank provided.

Looking back, I have no regrets.