Humbled by a Romani Pastor

Gratitude is the killer app when it comes to attitude

Some years ago I was in a Romani home. We call them “gypsies” but that is a derogatory term. I was traveling with a group of missionaries and we were meeting the Romani church leaders to get an update on the local ministry and hear about the plight of the Romani across Europe.

As we sat in this Romani home, on the floor, drinking coffee from a mishmash of chipped china, picked from a garbage dump. A dirt flow, set with scraps of mismatched carport. A small flame for heat, nothing more than the lit end of a propane tank. One lightbulb for the whole room. The rich aromas of sweat and cooking somewhere in the background. This was poverty, for real poverty. Not the kind of poverty you might find in a more rural setting, where everybody is poor (so nobody knows they are poor) but the kind of poverty that lives alongside wealth in a major East European city.

The Romani pastor thumped his hand on the table as he bitterly described the lack of assistance from the government in addressing his people’s needs. There was little interest by the majority population to help these people. They were given second rate schools, the hospital system discriminated against them, and they did not have simple things like sewer and water services in this area.

This group of Romani, like elsewhere, was the target of discrimination by the larger culture. They were a textbook example of an oppressed people. On top of that, I was sitting with the Christians. Romani are typically Muslim. These Christians were a minority group within the minority group.

As the conversation went forward, we were each asked to tell a little bit about ourselves. A member of our group had served in northwest China, among North Koreans. This piqued the interest of the Romani pastor, and he asked for details.

The visitor recounted how the North Korean Christians were swimming across the ice-cold river to China where they received discipleship training. They came hungry, both physically and spiritually. They were given medical care, food, and spent a few weeks in relative freedom of China before going back to their flocks across the river. On their way back, they had to swim again, now weighted down with bags of rice wrapped up in plastic against the water to feed their starving countryman.

“Did anybody ever get caught?” asked the Romani pastor.

“Yes, and recently a young man drowned because of the weight of his food pack.”

It was a sobering sentence. Conversation stopped and we all fell silent as the reality of this situation hung in the air.

The pastor spoke and the translator told us that he had said, “We need to pray for the North Korean church.” And so we did. It was a loud and raucous prayer. In the midst of it, that pastor began to weep. The volume rose. He would cry out a sentence or two, and the other Romani pastors would respond. Back and forth they went and the prayer ended in a short song of amen. I did not understand a word, but I did not need to. It was a holy moment, a holy prayer, and the sentiment was clear.

When we finished, the translator explained to us what had been prayed for. Upon hearing about the North Korean believers, the Holy Spirit had reminded this pastor of the many good things he had. He had been convicted about complaining. Yes, they had problems in this community. They were poor and they suffered discrimination. But they also had many good things. He had been recounting these gifts from God and the others had responded in agreement. With thanksgiving in his heart, he had been praising God for his relationship with Jesus, family, home and friends.

I was humbled.

No matter who we are, we have blessings in Christ that should make us fall to our knees in gratitude. Even this poor Romani pastor could thank Jesus. Unfortunately, in our self-pity, we seldom are reminded of the wonderful blessings we have in our lives. We justify our bad attitudes, complain, and carry on like spiritual babes. Perspective dissolves this self-pity and leads to gratitude.

Lord, help me to be grateful like that Romani pastor.