THE LIFE OF RICHARD WILLIAM MUELLER, JR.
(Continued)

Dad’s Autobiography – Chapter 9 – In Book, Page 18

Language Test, No Difference, Sad Time, Exploration, Printed Word, Kalolwa, Copperbelt-Kitwe

Language Test After four years of using Chinyanja on my own, Irene encouraged me to take a test which the government was giving as an incentive for ‘Europeans’ to learn an African language. At first, I rejected the idea. I did not have to take a test to tell me that I could talk to people in their own language. But, at last, her urging prevailed. I signed up to take a written test and an oral test in Chinyanja. The promise of a monetary reward was a little incentive, but not much. The monetary reward was not great. If my memory serves me correctly, it was somewhere around $65.00.

The written test came first. Included in it was vocabulary (English to Chinyanja — Chinyanja to English), the translation of a paragraph from Chinyanja to English and English to Chinyanja, and the writing of an essay in Chinyanja. All went well – which meant I could proceed to the oral examination. Those who did not pass the written examination could not go on to the oral examination.

When the day of the oral examination came (it was not the same day as the written examination), I was filled with fear and trepidation. And it did not help matters when I came to the place where the oral examination was to be held. I thought I would have to wait because I had come well in advance of my appointed time. But I did not have to wait. I was told that the person before me had failed his test.

When I entered the room, there were two Europeans and a Chinyanja speaking African sitting around a table. I was asked to sit down with them. I do not remember much about that test. I was too frightened. I do remember this, however. I was asked to tell them a story in Chinyanja. Because I had just returned from a mission trip into the Northwest Province of Zambia, I told them that story. When I got to the part where we had crossed a river – and used the word in Chinyanja for ‘crossing a river’, they stopped me and told me that I had passed the test. They told me that any ‘European’ who knew that word, ‘kuoloka’ knew Chinyanja very well. Was I relieved! I got my monetary reward – but my greatest reward was in knowing that I could now confidently speak of the wonderful works of God in Chinyanja.

No Difference We are ‘white’. The African is ‘black’. However, that difference is only on the outside. On the inside we are the same. We are all sinful. When we speak the same language, that sameness becomes even more evident.  Without a language barrier, we speak directly to the hearer with the message of the Law – which is followed immediately by the message of the Gospel. Then, when the sun goes down and the darkness of night slips into the inside of a mud hut, that sameness steals in ever so quietly, but ever so thoroughly. No longer is color seen. Only voices are heard. No one knows if a ‘white’ person or a ‘black’ person is speaking. What a reminder of how we are in the sight of God – the same.

Sad Time This is a time that I would rather forget. It was a time of animosity – a time which reminds me of the disagreement which arose between Paul and Barnabas over the action of Mark, who was also called John. However, sad to say, a reconciliation never did take place as it did with Paul and Mark.

A difference of opinion arose among the missionaries on the field. One of the missionaries thought of the missionary as a father figure. His idea was that the missionary was to supply the African with all sorts of bodily needs, especially food. In return, the missionary would be given the freedom to carry on his work in the area. If the demands of the African were not met, no permission to enter a village would be given. One African chief summed it up by saying, “Either give us mealie meal, or leave.” The one missionary wanted to do as he demanded.

The other missionaries were of the opinion that they had been sent to feed souls, not bodies. This did not mean that they were unwilling to help in time of need either with food or with medicine. Rather, it meant that they wanted to be true to the mission on which they were sent – to proclaim the Gospel of salvation through Christ Jesus to people living in the darkness of sin —– without intimidation.

The extent to which the animosity grew can best be summed up in a statement made by a government official whom I met on a rutty one-lane bush track. Because few vehicles traveled this road, we stopped to greet each other. After a very cordial conversation, the District Commissioner blurted out, “You are a decent person. I had a picture of you as a devil with horns.”

Even though this difference of opinion arose because of the situation in the bush, its effects were felt in Matero. Our members were brought into the conflict. However, even though it brought about a great deal of heartache and sadness, the preaching of the Word went on without interruption.

The conflict came to an end when one of the missionaries was asked to return to the States – and did.

Exploration Missionary Ed Greve was called to replace the missionary who had left the mission field. With his wife, Helen, and their two daughters, Linda and Chelley, he came from the mission field in Nigeria. They were the people with whom we had stayed in Nigeria on our way to Africa.

Shortly after he began his work in Northern Rhodesia, it was decided to make an exploratory trip into the Belgian Congo. It was thought that it might be possible to extend our mission work into that country. If we were to labor there, it would mean learning French – and we were all eager to do that – so much so that after our return home we bought records from which we would learn French.

However, our Lord had other plans for us. As we look back, we are reminded of how the Holy Spirit kept the Apostle Paul from preaching the Word in the province of Asia and how the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to enter Bithynia. Instead, God called them to preach the Gospel in Macedonia. God was calling us to preach the Word in Nyasaland – later to be called Malawi.

Printed Word Looking back, this should not have surprised us. Our members in Northern Rhodesia were writing letters to their friends and relatives in Nyasaland. They were telling them of the Good News that they were hearing from the missionaries in the Lutheran Church of Central Africa. Soon those people in Nyasaland were writing to us – asking us to come and bring that Word to them.

Because of the demands on our time by the congregations in Northern Rhodesia, we could not fulfill their request. But we could not ignore it either. Thus it was that the Mailing Program came into being.

At first, those materials were printed in English. Soon, however, we learned that we would be much more effective if those materials would be printed in Chinyanja, too. When they were printed in both English and Chinyanja, the letters we received from Nyasaland and the eastern province of Northern Rhodesia began to multiply greatly. In spite of this, we were unable to make personal contact with those prospects. I cannot count the number of times that we had to write, “We cannot come to see you. We do not have the time – or the manpower.” As you can imagine, our hearts were sick within us.

At the same time, invitations were coming in from the Northwestern Province of Northern Rhodesia. One of the students from the Munali Secondary School had graduated – and had gone to his home there. He was one of those who had become a member of the Lutheran Church of Central Africa through our Bible Instruction Course. He invited us to come and talk to his people. He also made arrangements for us to meet the leader of his clan – Chieftainess Luweji. After having been served a delicious meal by her husband who had been a cook in a European home, we had an experience we will never forget.

Kalolwa As the sun went down, more than four hundred men, women, and children began to come to a clearing in front of Chieftainess Luweji’s home. With an interpreter (I did not speak the language — it was Luvale), I was asked to stand on a raised platform and tell the people what we had come to do. I spoke to them of our work in and around Lusaka. Especially, I spoke to them of the God whom we represented.  I spoke of the Father. I spoke of the Son, Christ Jesus. And I spoke of the Holy Spirit.

When I spoke of the Holy Spirit, I heard the same word which the interpreter had used for Jesus. Because he had never heard of the Holy Spirit, he did not know how to translate that name. I had to explain to him who the Holy Spirit is before going on. I was reminded of what happened to the Apostle Paul at Corinth. There he met some disciples who knew Jesus, but who had not heard that there was a Holy Spirit.

Copperbelt – Kitwe This is an area about two hundred miles north of Lusaka. It is an area where copper is mined extensively in Zambia. It was to this area that we were called by Josiah Chisambwe. He was the student from the Munali Secondary School who had gone home to the Northwestern Province and had then settled in Kitwe, one of the six cities of the Copperbelt. Through his efforts, a congregation was established in one of the compounds of Kitwe. Through his efforts, adults and children were taught the doctrines of the Bible. Through his efforts, I had the privilege of baptizing twelve children at one of his Worship Services – a Worship Service conducted with the material we sent him.