Is resurrection really possible?

Dr. Cyprien Masaka came to the Kailo Health Zone as a young doctor not long out of medical school.  The hospital was lost in a forest of weeds and brush.  Working with limited resources, he and staff reclaimed the facility from the forest and from despair.  Today the facility is clean and serving over 130,000 people.  This is just one example of Christians living redemptive lives in Congo.

The a capella voices of a young mixed choir down near the Catholic “cathedral” proclaim good news. The bells pealed out the call to worship. It was a pleasant Sunday morning in Kindu on the banks of the upper Congo River. I was three days into a week-long visit with Catholic partners for the Access to Primary Health Care project: reflecting together how to help rural communities partner with their local health centers and hospitals to ensure widespread access to quality primary health care.

As I listened to the congregation singing and the drums playing, I thought about the Good News that Jesus announced, all the facets of life that his message and actions touched in a broken, twisted world. As I read the gospels that morning, I was impressed again by how much healing Jesus did, unconditional healing of broken bodies and captive spirits. Life connected to God restores life to the world around it, breathes life into it, replaces hate and strife with love and peace.

Over the last two weeks, the story of the raising of Lazarus has been on my mind. As life seeped away from Lazarus, his sisters and friends sent an urgent message for Jesus’ help. Jesus did not come. God did not intervene. Powerless, they watched him die and assumed that was the end of the story. When Jesus arrived four days later, Lazarus was in the tomb.

Jesus’ first words to Martha were, “Your brother will rise to life.” Martha assumed he was talking about the end of the age, the distant future. All life’s experience reinforced one conclusion: death is final. But Jesus gently reminded her that resurrection and life are rooted in relationship with him in the present. Martha didn’t understand, couldn’t imagine, couldn’t hope.

When Mary and the other mourners joined Jesus, the tomb only reminded them again of the finality of Lazarus’s death. In their grief and resignation they accused, “Could he not have kept Lazarus from dying?” When Jesus directed people to roll away the sealing stone from the cave-tomb, Mary could conjure up only images of putrefying flesh. Experience of a lifetime suggested nothing more.

Jesus, however, saw something else. Imagine God present. Imagine God’s power to restore life, to reverse the reign of death. Seconds later many saw the unimaginable, the reality of God’s power: Lazarus staggering out of the tomb bound up in body wrapping cloths. “Untie him, and let him go,” Jesus said. Let him live like he was meant to live.

When I read this story again a couple of weeks ago, I thought of the Congo. So many people here cannot imagine any other Congo than the one plagued by dysfunction, death and decay. Stereotypes plague the country. Self-serving warlords, the reign of terror financed by the sale of rare minerals. Autocratic government, widespread corruption. Money hungry evangelists promising miracles, a lost social solidarity failing to catch the destitute in time of need. Gripping materialism in the midst of grinding poverty. Unpaid government employees and high government officials living in luxury. Big aid projects stifling home-grown development and encouraging a debilitating dependency. A widespread commitment to sorcery, even among the followers of Jesus, infidelity, chronic deceit. These images of death are played over and over again, molding and shaping people’s imagination, limiting hope.

My home away from home during the week was with the Marist Brothers. They are a community of lay brothers dedicating to serving young people through education and spiritual formation, giving hope to the next generation in Congo.

But we are the community of the risen Christ. We, of all people, have a message of hope to share: Jesus is alive, the power of life reigns supreme. Do we believe that? Do you believe that God can change the life of a heartless warlord or a hopelessly corrupt government system? Do you believe that God can breathe new life into a dying church or a dying marriage? Do you believe that God can inspire people to learn new ways to produce enough food to feed their children and to banish poverty? Do you believe that God can put an end to political gridlock and inspire politicians to work for the common good of the country? Or if that hope is hard to generate, do you believe that God’s power resting in you can mediate the love of God to a few people around you?

I was in Kindu that Lord’s Day last week because I believe in the resurrection. Disciples of Jesus can be a healing, inspiring, catalytic force for life-giving change in Congo because by God’s gracious choice His Spirit lives in us. Many Congolese have lost hope that change can happen here. But I saw Christians who are contributing to another image of Congo: Dr. Masaka, the team at CARITAS Development Kindu, and the Marist Brothers of Kindu. Pray with me that God’s people will help others to see the reality of the resurrection, to find a pathway to hope that life-giving change is possible, to believe in the power of the living Lord.

Outside the tomb of Lazarus Jesus asked the people, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believed?” Lord, open our eyes to your glory. Help us to reflect it to others.

Dr Masaka (l), Kindu coordinator for the Access to Primary Health Care Project, and Dieudonne Masumboko (r), community participation specialist for the provincial health service.

Dr. Masaka and Dieudonne talk with the young staff of the Kailo Health Zone about the new program to enlist communities in partnerships with their local health center.

The Kailo hospital laboratory is clean and relatively well equipped, part of the initiative of Dr. Masaka.

Dieudonne Masumboko talks with members of a farmers' group.  They introduced 2 new varieties of high-yielding disease-resistant manioc.  The women have all adopted the new varieties.  They particularly like the long storage life in the field.

An onion farmer near Kampala shows off his crop to Dr. Masaka and Mr. Masumboko.