Camp Meeting

Thoughts from the morning:

“I’m sitting in the entrance of the house. The door is open a crack and I can see people milling about. So many sights and sounds in this place. Birds chattering, machines rumbling. The smell of cow dung and jasmine flowers. The rustle of workers and walkers. Through the netted window behind me I can see cows in mounds of mud. Everything about this place is different. I love the cool earthiness of everything, the feeling of bare feet on dusty marble …”

------

We are in Salem for a three-day camp meeting. It’s an annual family conference, where Christians from different assemblies gather from all over Tamil Nadu, sing, listen to messages and fellowship. It’s been a wonderful experience.

We sat in a big assembly room (which was actually a marriage hall). There was one aisle down the middle which separated the men from women. All the women had their heads covered. Different preachers went up to the front to speak, sometimes in Tamil, sometimes in English. All the speakers brought forth the message with power and conviction. A lot of times it sounded like they were shouting. I can sense that the faith of these people is so solid. Their dark piercing eyes and the way they carry themselves communicates the depth of their inner life.

As Christians, we belong to God, so we should imitate Him in everything. He calls us out of the world to be set-apart for Him. In a country that is predominately Hindu, Sikh and Muslim, here is a simple little body of believers singing His praises, listening to the Word spoken and “working out their salvation in fear and trembling.” These people are like shining lights in the dark. They do not rub Shiva’s ashes on their foreheads or put a bindi between their eyebrows. They are faithful to the one true God. 

“To the angel of the church in Smyrna write: These are the words of Him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. I know your afflictions and your poverty – yet you are rich! … Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor's crown” (Revelation 2:8,10).

Each morning before leaving for camp meeting, we read the Bible together, sing and pray. It is beautiful. When we pray, everyone bows, some with their faces to the floor, even the children.

In the bedroom upstairs I share a room with a lovely 18-year old girl named Rhoda, who speaks English very well and lives in Bangalore near the Mathews. We became fast friends. Joyce told Rhoda to “take care of me” so we have been together for most of the time spent at camp meeting. She’s an amazing roommate and friend, though teasingly I call her my “babysitter,” because I need guidance wherever I go.

One night before bed, I asked Rhoda about her socks. She pulled them off, revealing the massive scarring on her beautiful brown feet. She explained that her family's house caught on fire when she was a baby. It amazes me how some of these people have been through so many trials, yet remain faithful to their Saviour, Jesus Christ. I've observed that Rhoda goes through life joyfully with little thought to herself.

My heart has been so full of praise during these few days in Salem. God gave me the opportunity to meet some of the Indian women there, specifically a young girl named Vasugi. When we first met, the language barrier made for a very funny conversation. Sometimes we would just stare at each other awkwardly and smile. Then Rhoda came over and started translating for us and made it much easier. On the last day, Vasugi communicated to me that she’s had a very hard life. Her deceased father was Hindu and her mother is a Christian. She explained how she re-dedicated her life to Christ during this camp meeting. I felt led to give her the little card my mother had given me  --- “The Secret to a Glorious Life” --- in which I wrote a little message in English and a few Tamil words I know.

The last message of the day was in Tamil and I wish I could have understood it. Joyce’s father went up to pray and all the women bowed low in their seats. One lady, Amudha, knelt on the ground crying. Vasugi was praying earnestly too, hands clasped. These Indian Christians know the truth, and they live it, seemingly with every breath they take.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner and tea were served at camp meeting. (By the way, Indians seem to set their clocks by tea. Morning, noon, night ... tea time seems to be all the time!) The moment I walked into the dining hall, everyone turned around and stared. The servers kept asking me if I wanted a spoon to eat with, but I declined, wanting to eat just like they do. Some people started speaking in Tamil to me, but soon discovered I did not understand. We ate at long tables, and afterwards rinsed off our plates at the washing station (which is a cross between a huge sink and a bathtub).

It was sad to say goodbye to the people I met in Salem. We all went to the train station and parted ways. Raju and Joyce, Rhoda and her family all traveled back to Bangalore, while I joined up with Paul Stephen, a missionary in Salem, who accompanied me to the Home in TN.

The train took us first to Madurai. We arrived in the dark, but I was able to see its uniqueness. Very old, with ornate buildings and many Hindu temples. A dark, unsettling feeling seems to permeate the very air. The headmaster and his son Paulsam met us at the Madurai junction. It was a 2-hour drive to Vadamalapuram and by this time I was utterly exhausted. We pulled into the compound and it was too dark to see anything, and I wouldn’t have been awake enough to appreciate it anyway.

Now I’ve been at the Home for a few days and I LOVE it! I don’t have anymore time to write, but I promise to update soon. 

Photos from Salem:

The view at the back of the house where I stayed.

Salem camp meeting.

My friend Rhoda.

Three other friends: Amudha, Vasugi, and Kanga.