Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

We spend a second week reflecting on my experiences doing mission work in Ugandan and Kenyan villages.  I was there to bring some formal theological education to local pastors who lacked the opportunity to attend Bible school.  We would gather them to a centrally located village and spend all day for a week on methods of Bible study, hermeneutics (the science of interpretation), sermon construction, etc.    Then on Sunday I would preach in as many of their churches as I could reach so that hopefully they could see me doing what I had been telling them to do.  In the evenings there would often be an evangelistic crusade—where I would be expected to play the evangelist, even though they were more effective in that role than I am!  But there was a method to their madness.

Village Evangelism

“But I’m a teacher, not an evangelist.”

“No, the muzungu must preach at the crusade.  That way, everybody will come.”

The stars shone on the hills of Africa

And on a sea of eyes that shone in wonder

At the generator-driven cinema,

Another sky of stars that spread out under

The temporary platform we’d erected.

They’d never seen a video before.

The younger ones had never once inspected

A white man.  I can’t say which held them more

Enthralled, the flashing images or my skin.

It was the skin that made them pay attention

When, once the “Jesus” film was at an end,

I rose to preach.  And now, what new dimension,

Stranger than moving pictures on a screen

Or ghost-like skin in health by some strange art

Could possibly be waiting to be seen?

Christ crucified and raised; the human heart

Made clean.

Remember: for more poetry like this, order Dr. Williams’s collected poetry, Stars through the Clouds, 2nd edition (Lantern Hollow Press, 2020) at https://smile.amazon.com/dp/173286800X?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860!


Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

Muzungu is the word for white man in Luganda, the primary language in Uganda.  I do not suppose there are any places left where a white man has never been seen.  But I have been to places remote enough where I was the first one to be seen in the living memory of the younger children.  One young man was translated to me as having asked his father, “What’s wrong with that man?  He looks like a ghost!”  To be a white man in an African village is to be an instant celebrity with the children.  And so this little poem makes a good introduction to some of my experiences doing theological education by extension (pastoral training) in remote villages of Uganda and Kenya.  We’ll look a bit more closely at some of the actual ministry next week.

Children’s Choir


Muzungu!” cry the children,

And all then run to see

The ghost who walks in perfect health

Although this cannot be.


“Ooh!  Ooh!  Muzungu!  How ah you?”

“I’m fine,” I smile and say.

And then they giggle, hide their faces,

Grin, and run away.

Remember: for more poetry like this, order Dr. Williams’s collected poetry, Stars through the Clouds, 2nd edition (Lantern Hollow Press, 2020) at https://smile.amazon.com/dp/173286800X?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860!

Donald T. Williams, PhD


Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

Ugandan Choir

Sharing worship with Africans in a church with mud walls and a thatched roof that you had to reach by 4-wheel drive is an experience few Americans have had.  If you ever get the chance to do it, you should.

Mukama yeba si’ bwe” means “Praise the Lord” in Luganda.  “Chetibwa cha Mukama” is “Glory to the Lord.”  A kanisa is a church.  “Soli Deo gloria” is “Glory to God alone” in Latin.

Ugandan Congregation


The voices shout, “Mukama yeba si’ bwe!”

The drums are pounding, and the bodies sway.

Hands clap, feet shuffle, and a lady’s voice

Leads out to set the song; hers is the choice.

She sings a line; the people sing it back

With zeal and harmony.  There is no lack

Of  joy.  The cry, “Chetibwah cha Mukama!”

Resounds through the Kanisa.  Thus the drama

Of worship is played out in Africa.

And we, whose “Soli Deo Gloria

Is more sophisticated, less intense,

Might profitably pick up a couple hints.

Praise Band
Praise Band/Worship Team


Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest books: Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis (Baltimore: Square Halo Books, 2016), An Encouraging Thought: The Christian Worldview in the Writings of L. R. R. Tolkien (Cambridge, OH: Christian Publishing House, 2018), and The Young Christian’s Survival Guide: Common Questions Young Christians Are Asked about God, the Bible, and the Christian Faith Answered (Cambridge, OH: Christian Publishing House, 2019)!  Order from the publisher or Amazon.

THE LOVES OF LEARNING: Thoughts on Christian Education, Part II


Thoughts on Christian Education

Part II

This article was published in Christian Educators Journal 51:1 (October 2011): 30-32.

In Africa, one never knows what is going to happen.  Your plans are rough ideas that may have little resemblance to the actual ministry opportunities that present themselves.  I was expecting (since that morning) to address the students at St. Philip’s Secondary School in Kitale, Kenya, in an assembly at the end of their school day. But after they left, I was also unexpectedly invited to address the faculty in a separate meeting as they stayed behind.  “Why are we here?” I asked them—asking myself (in a different sense) the same question.  “Why are we doing this?” I continued, as the Lord helped me see a direction in which I could profitably go.  Teaching is not just another job, something we do to put food on the table.  It’s not just a slightly more prestigious form of factory work.  Unfortunately, many African teachers (and some Americans) look at it that way.  At least the Americans are reminded every payday that they aren’t doing it primarily for the money!

So why do we teach?  Only if we have a well thought out answer to that question can we hope to foster truly transformative learning.  And the only answer that begins to be adequate is that we do it out of love.  I encouraged the Kenyan faculty actively to cultivate three passions: love of the Lord, love of their subject, and love of their students.  It is only when all three are present and intelligently integrated that transformative teaching can emerge.

Love of the Lord has to come first.  Unless it does, love of the subject will degenerate into intellectual pride and love of the students into corrupted sentimentality.  But love for the Lord comes first not for those reasons but because He is the Lord of Glory, the eternal Word of the God of Truth, and the sacrificial Savior of our souls.  We love Him not for pragmatic reasons, good and adequate though they may be, but because He first loved us and because He is simply worthy of that position in our lives.  If we cannot see this most basic of truths, what else could we possibly have to teach?  What else could we teach with any accuracy or integrity outside that most basic of contexts?  For the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, hence of learning—hence of teaching.

Love of the God of Truth leads to love of a particular area of truth, a “subject” for which we have been given aptitude and to which we have been called to devote ourselves.  We love our subject: We take deep pleasure not just in its facts but in its terminology, its methodology, its grammar or structure, its history, its lore, its heroes, its practical application, as things worthy of contemplation and pursuit for their own sake as well as the sake of their Creator and of our fellow man.  Without this love deeply ingrained in our hearts, we will never overcome the demands on our time of job and family to stay fresh in the material, keep it up to date, and impart it with enthusiasm.  We cannot impart what we do not have.  Therefore, without this love we will be able fully to impart neither learning nor the love of learning, being inevitably deficient ourselves in both.

Unfortunately, in America the pietism of some Christian schools does not sufficiently nourish this love compared to the other two.  How could a mere subject compete in our affections with God and with His children?  There are practical problems as well as ideological ones.  The economic resources and structures of the average Christian school do not sufficiently support and enable real love of the subject on a practical level, and the pietistic spirituality may even discourage it.  A deep, abiding, and practical love of the material is essential nonetheless.  All Christians are supposed to love one another; but not all are called to be teachers.  Those who are so called are called to be learners, and lovers of learning, first.

Love of the Lord and of the subject may suffice to make one a good Christian scholar; and this is a rare and excellent thing, not to be despised.  It is a necessary but not a sufficient condition of fulfilling our whole calling.  Without the third love, though, we will never be good teachers.  We must love, not just students in the abstract, but our students, the very ornery, ill prepared, inattentive, lazy, and clueless people God has sent us (along with a few delights who embody the opposite of all those more frequently encountered attributes).  We must truly love them for Jesus’ sake.  How else shall we cut through their carefully cultivated ennui to reach them with the subject we love?  Where else shall we get the combination of earnest zeal and endless patience that it takes?  And why else would we expect them to listen?

If we have these three loves, we may be called to be teachers.  If we are to be effective teachers, we must not take their continuance for granted, but rather cultivate them daily.  Life has an almost infinite capacity to dull our hearts and minds, to bury us under trivial pursuits, to confuse us with the tyranny of the urgent, to wear us down by its daily grind.  “A man, Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “should keep his friendship in constant repair.”  It is good advice for those who would be friends of God, of learning, and of their students.  How do we do this?  We do it by being faithful in Bible study, prayer, and public worship; by scheduling time for the pursuit of our subject beyond the requirements of our lesson plans; by remembering that our students are “the least of these,” for whom our lessons should be “cups of cold water” given to Jesus Himself; by keeping our lives uncluttered by trivial concerns that sap our energy, distracting us from the loves to which we are called.  So we may love the Lord our God with all our minds, our subject as truth that manifests His glory, and our students as ourselves.

The love of God; the love of your subject; the love of your students: It is only when all three are powerfully present and intelligently integrated that transformative teaching can emerge.  May the God of Truth and of Love make it so in our lives, to the glory of His Son!  Amen.

Check out Dr. Williams’ books at Lantern Hollow Press:  Stars Through the Clouds: The Collected Poetry of Donald T. Williams (2011) and Reflections from Plato’s Cave: Essays in Evangelical Philosophy (2012).  Order either for $15.00 plus shipping at https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/.