Church in Tigmandru

Roberta took us to see her second church in the village of Tigmandru, about 30 minutes through the beautiful from Romanian countryside from Sighisoara. It's a typical village of 2 streets with tile-roofed houses, but I was really surprised when we drove up to a beautiful brand-new building.

But first, there's a story about how this church started. Several years ago, three people from Roberta's church in Sighisoara drove out to Tigmandru to pick up some turkeys for an American Thanksgiving celebration that they have each year. Just as they left the village, they were in a bad car accident and the van they were driving was totalled. But the three people in the van only received minor injuries.

When the car was towed back into the village, people said there absolutely must have been three people killed. They couldn't believe that anybody had walked out of the accident, and began to ask, "How could this have happened?" A couple from there who had already started to attend church in Sighisoara said they believed that God had looked after them, and that started conversations that led to more questions that led to several people becoming Christians.

Today, this church is a ministry centre for the entire village. There is a big bright worship area, but that's just the beginning. On the main floor there is an office/meeting room that is used by a doctor for a clinic. On the second floor there is a wood shop with power tools, and something called an "ecology lab." Roberta is a former chemistry professor and one of her tools for outreach has been to start an ecology club. Young people from the village learn about science, learn how to test the water in the local creek and how to use a microscope. Through the club, they build relationships that have been life-changing.

On the third floor is a large room set up for sewing. Magda, the main congregational leader, has taught many local women how to sew and they have begun a project making souvenir dolls in traditional Romanian dress that they can sell to raise funds.

It's more than just sewing, though. Magda leads them in a devotional time and talks to them about their spiritual lives as well.

Across the hall is a "baby room" where up to 30 mothers meet with their infants to build community and learn parenting skills. Many of the Roma families in the village do not have running water, so one thing that they are able to do is give their babies a bath. On top of one of the cupboards are a whole stack of baby baths.

This Nazarene church in a small village in the hills of Romania is making an incalculable difference to people's lives in every way -- materially, socially and spiritually. It's all come about simply because people were faithful. Roberta speaks quite matter-of-factly about the difference it makes in the lives of many of these families when the parents become Christians. They really do stop drinking. The incidence of domestic abuse really does fall. Others begin to notice a difference in them. It's kind of fallen out of fashion in North America to argue that it's good for people to come to faith, but what's happening in Tigmandru shows that we shouldn't be too glib about dismissing that reality.

Czech hospitality

Dave Patty, who told us about Malenovice, said we should go to the church he attends in Frydlant nad Ostravici, a town of about 10,000, 15 minutes from our hotel. The only hitch was that both he and his wife Connie wouldn't be there this past weekend. But, they said, there are lots of wonderful people who speak English.

Both Diane and I are good with languages, and everywhere we've been we can kind of puzzle things out based on our knowledge of French and German. But I have to tell you, Czech is a totally different ball of wax. There is almost nothing recognizable about either the sound or appearance of Czech.

So going to a Czech worship service, not knowing who would be there or if we would understand a blessed word was a bit of a leap of faith. But we've discovered on this trip that if we just go for it and take that leap, wonderful things happen.

Church was to be at 4 p.m., so we booked a taxi to pick us up at 3:30 and drop us off at -- who knows where? The taxi pulled up in front of a squarish building that could have been a house, an office, or a small community center. There was a sign over the door and we asked our taxi driver what it said. "House of gardeners" he replied, cryptically.

A man, woman and little boy came along just as we stepped out of the cab. "Do you speak Czech?" he asked in very good English. "Not at all," we said. "But we heard there was church here." "I'm Lubo," he replied, "I pastor the church. Come and join us."

Lubo was full of apologies. "It's summer. Many people are away, and most of our youth are away working at English camps. So there may not be many people here." At 3:55, there was Lubo, his two daughters who were leading the music, his wife and an older lady who may have been her mother (not sure.) But, by 4, about 20 people had arrived, (down from an average of 60) including young families, a Korean man with his little boy, and an American from Mobile, Alabama, named Charlotte. Charlotte heard us from the other side of the room and came over. "I heard you speaking English!" she said.

Before the service, Lubo said, "I'm afraid you won't get much of the service without some help," so he called over a woman in her 30s named Marcela. "Here, Marcela will translate for you." Marcela is Czech, but lived in England and speaks very good English. She sat between us and provided us with simultaneous translation!

Lubo's daughters led a couple of songs which we immediately recognized as "I Could Sing of your Love Forever" and "Here I Am To Worship" -- in Slovak. There was a time of sharing concerns for people in the congregation. Two young women were driving to a camp in Romania when their car was rear-ended and totaled. We prayed for them as well as for others.

The Scripture text was Ephesians 4: 11-16. The sermon was on how God equips the church with people who have gifts for prophecy, apostleship, teaching and evangelism. Lubo told a story of when he was a teacher. He had an especially recalcitrant student who wanted a better mark than his work deserved. In dealing with this student, Lubo eventually had an opportunity to share with him his faith in Christ and the young man, full of attitude, became a Christian.

After the service, Lubo told us that the congregation is really struggling with how to extend hospitality to non-Czech speakers. They have a lot of visitors and feel compelled to find ways to make them feel at home. That's what Marcela did for us and we told him how welcomed we had felt. And I thought, "Wow, how attentive are we in our churches to people who 'speak a different language?'"

Il Song, the Korean man, wanted to talk to me when he found out we were Canadians. "My son is playing hockey!" he told me, and showed me some pictures on his iPhone.

Our taxi was waiting, but Lubo said, "We must pray for you before you leave." And so he did.

Earlier in the day on Sunday, part of me wanted to say, "We don't know where the church is, who will be there or what it will be like. Maybe we should just spend the day at the hotel." We were both so glad we went and so blessed by this wonderful Christian community in a little Czech town.