Remember Rwanda Genocide?

REMEMBER RWANDA GENOCIDE?

PREACHING AND TEACHING THAT MATTER

C. Philip Slate

Sometimes human failures and flaws can be seen more clearly in others than in ourselves, especially when events are viewed at the distances of time and space. Looking at others, however, can have a boomerang effect. I take the 1994–95 genocide in Rwanda as a case in point.

Rwanda is a small, landlocked country situated in the Great Rift Valley in East Africa. Two ethnic groups dominated the local population for many centuries. By the 20th century, the majority Hutus (81-85%) were Bantu people, while the Tutsis (18%), the ruling group, were Nilotic people. The country was a German colony from 1894 to 1916. Then it became a Belgium colony (1916–1962) until its independence. Later in the 20th century, the tensions between the two groups that had been building for forty years came to a peak in 1994. It took little to trigger a war of genocide that lasted 100 days. The minority Hutu extremist militia killed about 800,000 people, among them both their Tutsi enemies and moderates among the Hutus. A million or so people fled the country to survive. The situation was complex, and the effects of it are still felt in three or four surrounding African countries.

A major point of concern here is the relationship of that sordid era to Christian faith and life. Roman Catholic missionaries first went to Rwanda in 1900 and were followed by the Protestants in 1907. The 2001 edition of Operation World reported that 80.83% of the population, including both Hutus and Tutsis, were Christians of one kind or another; 42.5% were Roman Catholic and 18.76% Protestant, while the balance were Seventh-day Adventists, Jehovah Witnesses, and various independent groups. How, then, could people who call themselves Christians, even in that broad use of the word, engage in such brutal butchering of fellow-Christians, both in their own ethnic group and the other, all Africans? At one point a Roman Catholic Bishop asked the people, “What, is not the blood of Christ more important than tribal blood?” Their answer was, “I suppose not.”

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? People who grow up in such ethnic groups are taught, perhaps formally and certainly informally, about the evils or inferiority of the other African tribe. They don’t question it. Why should they? The venerable grandfather and the beloved great aunt hold those views. They hear the stories of those “bad” people.

It is now known that ethnic, racial, and religious prejudices are usually learned early in life and reinforced by the behavior of respected adults. The Hutu and Tutsi tribes are a good illustration. The deeply felt prejudices among them were learned from childhood, reinforced by respected elders, and made the subject of jokes and stories. Usually, people don’t question those prejudices until and unless there is some intervention, like the teachings of Jesus.

So, what happened in Rwanda? Eighty percent were “Christian”, and yet they butchered each other? Someone failed to do preaching and teaching that made a difference in behavior. Evangelicals eagerly “Got ‘em saved” and then failed to mature them. For hundreds of years the Roman Church has seemed content for many of their members to “pay and pray.” These behaviors lead to the common statement that Christianity is “a mile wide and a foot deep in Africa.” Can that be a useful mirror?

Consistent Christian behavior is both an honor to God (Eph. 1:6, 12, 14) and a door opener for many outsiders. Such behavior is a product of growth, a nurturing process for which the church is responsible. Such growth requires more than the anemic recommendation, “Y’all be good, now.” Biblical godliness is rooted in theology, in the principles of being godlike (Eph. 5:1), sharing His holiness (Heb. 12:10), partaking of His divine nature (2 Pet. 1:4). Preaching and teaching that matters will aim to produce godliness, the kind that stands up for King Jesus when the tide of culture flows in the opposite direction.