You're Welcome

Stephen is the first person from Rwanda that I talked to in Uganda. He is a memorable person. The first words out of his mouth where, “My name is Stephen. You're welcome.”

I was taken a back. He was so forward. I didn’t understand his greeting. Why did he say I was welcome? We were both visitors to Uganda. There is typically a certain order to greeting. If I say, “Thank you” then the person responds, “You're welcome”. So to start with “You're welcome” seems out of place.

Stephen is this small man by western standards, not very tall, very thin and then speaks with a sound you remember. Admittedly at first I thought Stephen was odd. He probably thought I was odd too. Yet, whenever he spoke people listened. He had great things to say.

On the first day of the conference there was a “workshop”. It was a conversation among nations about what the “Good News” is. I remember that when Stephen spoke we were impressed and we laughed. Stephen shared how Rwandans lost faith because of the genocide. Pastors in Rwanda were a part of the genocide. Stephen shared that “Good News” is people being together. “Being here encourages ourselves”, he said. Of course he was referring to the Amahoro Gathering. “Even if we lost our parents and our people, the ‘Good News’ is still there.” He then asked the question, “What is the 'Good News' to an African?” He didn't answer his own question. Instead he asked more questions. He asked, “Look at the reality of Africa. Was the (gospel) package that was passed to us not ALL open to us? Or did the ones who gave it to us water it down and dilute it and then give it to us?

Tough questions and important ones! We wondered if he was right. Had the people of Rwanda received a diluted gospel? The gospel was given to the people of Rwanda and they ran with it. Rwanda was a case study country for Christianity in the early 1990’s because of its high percentages of Christians—90%. So what went wrong? Obviously Christianity is not the only issue involved! Yet how does a country that is 90 percent Christian take to killing their neighbors? What was their “Good News”? What kind of Jesus did they follow?

What kind of Jesus do we follow?

Two buses full of people from Burundi, Rwanda and western countries traveled all day together. After a 12-hour bus ride from Mokono, Uganda to Kigali, Rwanda we were all exhausted. The buses were obviously made for small people. They had Chinese writing in them so we suspected they were made by China. (Now that I’m back in Korea I’m seeing newer versions of the bus we took all over the place!) Even the Africans did not fit these tiny seats with little room for your knees. For almost 12 hours my knees rubbed against the seat back in front of me. There wasn’t much room for moving without bothering my seat partner. I was grateful for Moses who didn’t have a seat the whole trip and sat on our luggage from time to time. He was one of the few who felt comfortable speaking in English. So we were conversation partners for much of the trip.

So when we arrived in Kigali to our guest house, relived to be out from behind those seat backs, we were all ready for a bed. We gathered in the dinning room for instruction and introduction. This was when I heard Stephen say those words again, “You're welcome”. This time it was in his home city and in his local context. It is here that I began to understand. “You're welcome” is a whole lot more than a greeting. It tells a story.

Stephen shared a little with us. He said, “In the 100 days of war 7 people died every minute.” He told us that for years Rwanda had very few visitors and when visitors came they did so with fear. He talked about a missionary who had come before. Stephen was to show him around Kigali. The missionary made a big deal of his safety and made sure Stephen had ALL of his contact information. “If anything happens to me, you can contact my family,” he told Stephen. There was sadness in his voice as he told this story. He had compassion on this missionary and was saddened by his fear. Loaded with fear it is difficult to be fully present. So he said to us, “You're welcome”.

I could feel his deep gratitude this time as he said it. It wasn’t a greeting. It was his story of great sadness turning to joy. He was telling us the story of a people who have had no people to welcome. He was telling us the story of a people who had no one to say thank you to. “You're welcome” was a statement of celebration; he celebrated our presence. “Your welcome” was a declaration of hope; hope in our presence and not in what we could do for him. Our being there spoke of the Kingdom at hand. We were a sign of God’s presence at work-- in his world. “You're Welcome!”


Stephen is a present day saint in Kigali, Rwanda. He would never consider himself as such. My Christianity and how I understand the “Good news” was put to shame in light of his living for Jesus. I do not know much of Stephen’s back-story. I only know that as a Rwandan exile he grew up in Uganda. He was an orphan. A man took him in as an adopted son. After the Rwandan genocide in 1994 Stephen returned to his home country. Stephen, the orphan, became a father to orphans. He was a single man and he began taking in children who were living on the streets. Only a few years ago he married. His wife must be as incredible woman. What women would marry a man fathering orphans unless she shared his heart?

Today Stephen and his wife have 16 children and one on the way. This isn’t including the extended family living in their (I think) 5 “room” house. When I asked Stephen how many kids he had, he said, “I have 16 kids.” When I asked how many biological kids, he hesitated and said something like, “One child is from my wife and I”. His hesitation said it all. There is no difference between his biological child and his other children. They are all his children. To each of them and to each of us he says the same—“You're welcome”.

In Stephen I see a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. The Jesus he is following is one who lays down everything for the sake of others. He hasn’t stopped to take account of all that he might or might not give up. He’s following a Lord of hope and a Lord of transformation. In Stephen I see hope not only for Rwanda but I see hope for our world. I see hope for how God’s Kingdom is intercepting our world and transforming it—even if it is just a little.

God ushers us into the Kingdom with a greeting, “You're welcome”. But His greeting is more. It tells a story and allows us to enter into the story to participate; we see what God sees, feel what He has felt, and do what He is already doing. And isn't this true: When the Kingdom is at hand its greeting feels so out of place! The Kingdom is at hand! Sadness turns to joy. Presence makes itself known to a people in need of redemption. What is the Good News for Africa? What is the Good News for us? It is this: “You're Welcome!”