Chirala - Moving Into the Neighborhood
November 7, 2006 Chirala, India .... [Rajmund Dabrowski/ANN]

To get to Chirala, a bustling coastal town in India's state of Andhra Pradesh, you need two-and-a-half hours by road after landing in the nearby city of Vijaiwada. At the same time, you will experience made-in-India driving.

Chirala has half a million inhabitants. The bright yellow sun-washed Bay of Bengal sand and the sea salt roadside ponds all catch the attention of a traveler interested in both the scenery and the busy, daily life of the locals.

This is no place for a tourist to enjoy a tranquil excursion. There is no tourist infrastructure. Yet the busyness of Chirala reveals a world of rich culture laced with tradition and religious rituals. It also shows an ever-present quest for a life made easier, much of it responsive to the challenging times and circumstances.

The fertile tobacco and chili farming fields reveal that women are the predominant source of labor. You will find them washing their multi-colored clothes by hitting them with sticks and throwing them into the murky water to rinse, all on the edge of a nearly dried riverbed.

As you ride by a nearby tributary of the sacred Krishna River, there is a baptism taking place. It's midday and the sun is scorching, but several dozen people line up to step into the water. Who are these people?

Your driver looks closer, then calmly tells you, "That's our pastor. We are the only ones baptizing people here." Your heart jumps for joy. How often do you stumble upon a baptism by chance? But there are no chances here. This is India and it is Adventist time today.

Chirala is a special place for Seventh-day Adventists in India. Five years ago the church in the region challenged itself to reach out with the gospel message, build houses of prayer, and respond to the quest for a life of dignity and freedom among the Harijins. "The children of God," as the great Gandhi called them. We refer to them as the Dalits. They are the lowest social cast of marginalized, oppressed, outcast, despised, poorest-of-the-poor, untouchables of India.

One church leader, Pastor Measapogu Wilson, explained his view of how to approach the world of needs in India, of which Dalits are an example.

"In my country you can see both extremes," he said. "You see wealth and you see adverse poverty, but we cannot just keep feeding people. My best answer for [poverty] would be to give them something to hook the fish on, instead of giving them fish everyday. Maybe start more welfare industry, training programs, give the skills to the young people and attract them, and poverty will be eliminated in the next generation," was his answer.

Many of the thousands of villages with their millions of people are being given a glimpse of things to come--a life where no man will rule over another, where women and children will not be abused. They will be the reclaimed children of God, equal and beautiful in God's sight.

Today, scores of Harijins are accepting an offer for a new way of life--a life in hope. Just watch them line up to claim their own copy of the Scriptures in Telugu. At night when they retire, many will place their precious gift next to their head in anticipation of sweet, tranquil dreams.

The evening spiritual gathering draws thousands of Harijins from some 50 villages. Many are bussed on open-bed lorries. They are mostly women, wearing their colorful dresses, children in tow, clasping their new Bibles.

They ask you to bless them. "Prardhama?" they ask. "Bless me. Pray for me." At once you feel it is you who is blessed as you stretch out your hands, place them on their heads, and say a prayer. Their faces light up as they walk away.

Then they spot me with my camera and all my paraphernalia. "Prardhama?" one asks. I touch her head and ask for the presence of the Holy Spirit in her life. As I open my eyes, there are dozens ready to be blessed. But I am busy receiving the blessings myself.

A weekend with Maranatha Volunteers International--anywhere, anytime--has always given me a spiritual boost. Maranatha, a supporting ministry of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, has specialized in building houses of worship, schools and orphanages since 1969 in more than 60 countries. This past February at a concluding weekend of the Chirala 50-village outreach and church-building program it was no different--it was full of action, color and wonder.

Terry Moreland and Kelly Fisher and their team had so much energy that I had a hard time keeping up with them. And there was the India Maranatha staff who made sure things happened smoothly. The team consisted of dozens of pastors and pioneers--as they are referred to, whose task is to coordinate the church life in villages. Everything was planned with the utmost precision and timing.

Things were happening everywhere. Somehow they managed to keep people in one place, sitting or squatting, and attentive amid a sea of humanity. And thousands of them at once!

Yes, it was God's production, I concluded. The preaching must have worked because everyone listened attentively. A film about Jesus must have been inspiring--they all watched, even applauded.

And then there was Esther, a dancer from a nearby village whose inhabitants are known for their entertainment skills. She came to the meetings under a cloud of suspicion from her villagers. With her came another enemy, of whom she was oblivious, until he must have said in her head, "You are mine! I won't let you go!" And she could not fight him, it seemed. At least not alone.

She became a challenge for Terry and Pastor Wilson, who interpreted and whose dedication, skills and spiritual wealth shined night after night. They knew what they were dealing with. The power of evil had to be confronted head-on by the power of God. Wilson, who coordinated activities and training for Adventist clergy in Southern Asia, has seen it all, he said of the experience with Esther in Chirala.

The evil one would not let her go. He screamed and groaned through Esther. The more the prayer intensified, the more he exerted strength that was far superior to that of the woman. As I watched, I could not really explain what was happening. I was witnessing a battle between forces of evil and good. Several people had to hold Esther down as they prayed for her deliverance.

All I could do was take pictures and pray. But then, Esther calmed down. Was she truly free of the powerful force that made her a slave to the life she led?

This is what happens when you are in the company of a people of hope. Maranatha is such a company: I was part of a group of Christian believers, a people who know their mission and practice what they preach.

The other side of a Maranatha experience takes you to places where "walking the talk" takes over. While volunteers built houses of worship and were blessed, my blessing was to see the final act--a dedication of yet another spiritual home: a house of God.

When you visit a village like Rachapudi Peda Mala Palli for a church dedication, the closest thing that comes to mind is a wedding celebration. The flowers, balloons, the loud Indian village music that no Western musician is successful in imitating, children running everywhere, the prayers, songs and speeches--all in a festive, yet serious mood. And you are blessed again; there is standing room only.

As I traveled around a village where our house of worship was dedicated, I only imagined how proud this Christian community is now. They will worship their God in His sanctuary. There are simple dwellings around, and then this Adventist church in the heart of the village. Pastor Wilson said inhabitants of thousands of such villages never had the opportunity to own a place of worship. The rich landlords had their temples, but the poor people never had a temple in which to worship.

Maranatha builds a small shrine or a church, and that is the greatest accomplishment the locals know in their lives of faith. These people experience God's presence around them. It is expressed in the house of worship.

Strolling through the village, I wonder how a community like Rachapudi went about getting their church built. Wilson explains that there is a pattern the church follows. It involves a visit of a regional Adventist pastor who travels to villages, often as a response to an invitation, and asks the village leaders for permission to establish an Adventist presence.

If they respond positively, Wilson explains, a pioneer church worker is assigned to that particular village. He moves in, offers Bible studies and daily worships. The worker remains there for three to five years, and during this time regional pastors visit the area and organize public Christian events. Baptisms follow, he adds.

"When a congregation is established, we look at a way to build a temple for them. That's how Maranatha gets involved," Wilson adds.

While strolling through a simple village community and catching the smiling expressions of children that always surround a photographer, I spotted a satellite dish on a roof just across the road from the newly built church. Technology has no boundaries, and these people may one day join a global television church. Perhaps the Hope Channel will be there. The challenge is there--to do it all in their language, within their culture ...

A visit to Mumbai, Hyderabad or Bangalore, gives you a different side of India. The "new money," associated with the country's technological boom, is displayed in affluence with what we would call a post-modern attitude and lifestyle. The wheeling-dealing India of today testifies to a different life driven by e-commerce, i-banking, IT-related services, but also by luxury, decadence and Hollywood fashion and glamour.

Dubbed by the high-tech world as Silicon Valley East, India is a fertile ground for the Adventist Church to find unique methods of reaching the affluent cities for Jesus. Obviously, one size of outreach will not fit all. But the church, and that may include Maranatha, will be there.

"India is really divided into two parts, the urban and the rural," Wilson readily comments. "So, when the churches approach them, they have to approach them with two agendas. Not [in] a uniform way. So, if the church leaders or administrators are thinking to develop India, in terms of growing Adventist churches there, they must have two different agendas--approaching the urban people in a different style, and the rural people in yet a different way," he states.

India--one of the many neighborhoods of my church today. And it's India's time to think big.

Rajmund Dabrowski is the communication director of the worldwide Seventh-day Adventist Church.

Related Sites:
Adventist News Network
Maranatha Volunteers International