Under the Tamarind Tree

We were late for church. And I mean really late. For an excuse, let me say that generally our church follows “local time,” which means it begins later than the stated start time. Honestly though, I just have trouble getting it together on Sundays, and I am usually a little late for church. But this week, I walked in during the middle of the sermon, which happens near the end of the service. It was kind of embarrassing. Turns out that the church leaders were cracking down on lateness, and had started right on time, even with, according to Richard, “only 6 or 3 people there.”

The benefit of this early start is that my church, for the time in my memory, finished before 1pm, leaving the afternoon unusually open. As Melissa and I prepared to wheel back home, one of our pastors called us over, and invited us to his daughter’s birthday party which was starting at 3. Is this the real reason church started and finished so early?

Regardless, Melissa and I wove our way through the snaking dirt paths that are hidden off the road, and after a couple of wrong turns and backtracks, we made it to the party.

There, under the shelter of a towering tamarind tree, we sat with our small church family, sipping lemonade, hearing the story of this girl’s life, and also another sermon, which was appropriate since I have missed half of the one at church. We sang and prayed and had a meal together. Not anything life an American birthday, where I doubt any 10 year-old would celebrate with a sermon. 

But fun for us to rest in the shade with our friends. To be invited, and included, and to see the home life of these people I see every Sunday. The family hosting the party recently grieved the death of their newborn baby and now celebrates the life of their firstborn. In life and death, joy and sadness: Mundri is showing me the importance of finding shelter and safety in a community faith that covers us like the shade of a sheltering tamarind tree.

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