From Ngong in Kajiado, Kenya to the heart of Yorkshire

For Black History Month, the Revd Joseph Kwallah shares the story of his journey to ministry.

Welcome, (Karibu),

My Methodism journey started in Wetherby Methodist Church, Tadcaster Circuit, in the Yorkshire North and East District when I arrived in the UK from Kenya. I was born in a Catholic family and later moved to Word of Life International, an ecumenical partnership that mainly serves young adults.

Imagine this, a young boy with a mop of hair that would give any lion a run for its mane plodding through the plains of Kajiado, a region where the Maasai moral compass was as upright as the acacia trees that dotted our landscape.

One of my earliest memories is of chasing after my sister armed with nothing but a stick and the unshakable belief that I was destined to be the next great Maasai warrior. Little did I know I would end up leading hymns instead of herds. As we galloped across the fields, competing over who had the most fireflies, I never imagined that, one day, those fields would become my pulpit, and those tiny lights would be the congregation eagerly waiting my reflection.

I remember attending church services that were all about heavenly messages wrapped in laughter. The priest had a reputation of being the best storyteller on that side of the Rift Valley. The combination of laughter and faith ignited something in me – a realisation that this ministry thing could be wildly entertaining.

In every little adventure and mishap, I discovered not just laughter but also a divine purpose – a funny revelation that would guide my steps towards ministry in ways that would tickle my soul for years to come.

The call to ministry

The call to ministry is an experience that many describe in dramatic, awe-inspiring terms, like a burning bush, a heart strangely warmed or a thunderous voice echoing through the heavens. Mine, however, was more akin to the gentle nudging of a mischievous goat and a loud, snoring church elder during a Sunday service.

It all started when I was about eight years old, when my mum wanted me to join a seminary and train as a Catholic priest. In one of the Sunday masses, my attention was fading faster than a poorly tuned guitar.

The priest was delivering one of those fiery sermons, his voice rising and falling in a symphony of passion. But my mind? It was elsewhere, analysing the fashion choices of the congregants and rearranging my strategy for my next football match and my next running competitions. In the midst of my daydreaming, I felt an unfamiliar sensation; it was as if a heavenly hand had pinched me, causing my heart to skip a beat. With a sense of urgency, I suddenly began to feel that tug, whispering, “You’re meant for more than just critiquing style choices or passing balls.” As I looked around the church, I noticed the faces that had witnessed my youthful antics. They giggled as I juggled the elements of my teenage chaos, but the realisation began to dawn on me – these people were not just my community. They had invested love and laughter into me – now I felt that I was called to give it back, and of course, acknowledging the African philosophy (or way of life), ubuntu, ‘I am, because you are’. It was as if all those times I had played priest to my stuffed animals were collapsing into one comedic yet profound revelation. “I could actually do this,” I thought, “but with way fewer stick toys!”

When I relocated from Kenya to the UK, my first church service in a foreign country was in Wetherby Methodist Church, a church that nurtured me, trained me as a worship leader, local preacher and eventually to presbyteral ministry formation. Looking back on my journey of faith, I have always been a Methodist but perhaps started in a different tradition.

When I stood before my first congregation, I felt an overwhelming blend of excitement and nervousness. I had transitioned from one who chased goats around to someone diving headfirst into a journey of faith, as I embraced my calling. It was there in Ngong, Kenya, that I sensed one of the greatest truths of my life. That the calling to ministry, much like my youthful escapades, was beautifully messy, intricately woven with humour and God's greatness.

Grooving with God: DJing as a form of ministry.

Music is the language of the heart. It makes our soul dance with joy (Debasish Mridha). One of the many ways that African spirituality is fed is by music and dance, and think of Methodism (and me), which is founded on song!

One sunny afternoon, while I was fiddling with an old vinyl in our house, I stumbled upon what I can only describe as a ‘divine revelation’. In those days, when we got our groove on, we believed that live music was the only way to praise God. Well, it turns out, I could praise God through the art of DJing! Who knew that spinning records could lead to a deepening of my faith?

As I started mixing songs rich with spiritual themes, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit surround me like a warm hug from my mum when I went home after a long day. I could mix uplifting worship tunes with more contemporary beats and attract some non-believers to join what I call ‘The Gospel Grooves’.

Moving forward: Staying true to the ministry

Who would have thought that a simple herds boy from Ngong, Kenya, would eventually find himself mixing beats at a dance floor while sermonizing about the grace of God?

Maintaining faith during turbulent times is like trying to dance in a mud pit; one moment you are grooving with the rhythm of life, and the next, your feet are stuck, and you are flying head over heels into a world of uncertainty.

As I journey now in the East Riding of Yorkshire, I delve into the blessings of gratitude and grace. I cannot help but laugh at all the times I have found myself fretting over life’s rollercoaster. Perhaps one of the foundational principles of a grateful heart is the understanding that every blessing, big or small, is worth celebrating. Life is always a tapestry being woven together by the threads of gratitude.

HALLELUJAH!

The Revd Joseph Kwallah
Goole and Selby Mission Area
Yorkshire North and East District