Bridget's Bunia Blog 39

There was Jesus saving a wedding celebration from falling flat - in full accord with the Jewish belief that God enabled them to grow crops and produce wine to make them happy (Psalm 104:14-15) - and a Congolese colleague can only comment, "Jesus made it very difficult for us when his first miracle was to change water to wine." So what is one to think about this issue of Jesus, his disciples and alcohol? But given the proof of the local home-brewed alcohol here, it's probably wise to steer clear of the
principle of 'moderation in all things' and push for teetotalism. Sadoki ought to know......

"Where did you get all those things - meat, fish, clothes and everything? Did you steal them? Have they given you a pay rise?" Sadoki's wife had never seen so much brought home at the end of a month. This was the first time ever that Sadoki had completed a month of work without spending all his salary on booze. No wonder his wife was so incredulous. This fact spoke volumes as to the changes that had taken place in the life of her husband.

Tears came to Sadoki's eyes as he recalled his past life and thought of wasted time, wasted opportunity, wasted money. But a smile lit up his face as he explained his 'siku ya uhuru' - his day of liberation - and how God had touched his life.

Raised by an alcoholic father and drinking mother, Sadoki really hadn't had much of a chance and he was drinking by the age of 12. A hardened drinker by the age of 23, he was able to down 12 bottles of commercially-produced beer or the whole pot of kaikbo - the vicious local concoction distilled from manioc and maize.

Cigarettes and drugs were added to the destructive habits. His friends were fellow boozers. His wife was his 'rafiki ya pombe' - a drinking friend - although not to the same extent. Drinking - during drunken moments that is - was fun. But little by little there was a nagging question: What will I do to leave drink?

Then in 1993, Sadoki was attracted by the music coming from the football stadium. Some people from South Africa were preaching about a 'Jesus Alive'; that there was life and peace in him. Curious, Sadoki went along to listen. What was this life that they were talking about? What did it all mean? The second, third and fourth evenings found Sadoki at the meetings. And when people 'with needs' were invited to be prayed for, Sadoki was right there; he knew keenly his need of help in his life. To his amazement, all desire to drink left him when he was prayed for.

Friends came to tempt him "Come, share a glass with us." "No, I've left off drinking. I'm going to follow Jesus." His wife was watching him. Was this a genuine change? Would it last? She'd had to bear the shame of going to her parents for handouts when her husband had drunk the money. But she wasn't disappointed in what had happened to him. This was Sadoki's 'Siku ya Uhuru' - his Day of Freedom.

So it’s hard for Sadoki to understand why his testimony has no effect on a drinking colleague. Why won’t he heed Sadoki’s warning or follow his example?

While we rejoice that Sadoki, wife and family walk happily into the sunset blessed with liberation from alcohol, unhappily that’s not the total picture. For many people, including Christians, alcohol is a real curse. It turns educated, useful people into unreliable members of a community who can’t be depended upon to arrive for work, handle public money responsibly or be able to care for their families. How does this happen? For some Christians, it begins with entry into the world of politics and the need to socialise. Others find the comfort of the bottle when a wife is sick or dies. How do people find a thirst to be free from the grip of alcohol? That I don't know. I feel as bewildered as the disciples: "Who, then, can be saved?" they asked. Jesus looked straight at them and answered, "This is impossible for human beings, but for God everything is possible." Mat 19:25-26

Blessings,
Bridget