Coming Home to Liberia

Coming Home to Liberia

Two Brothers, Two Countries, One Church

The Rev. Dave Woessner St. Michael's-on-the-Heights, Worcester

Fr. Edgar Freeman is a determined and faithful man. Sometime in the winter of 2018/2019, he bellowed: “This summer, I am going to take you to Liberia, my brother!” Over our years together as friends and fellow priests, he has exuberantly made this offer several times. I had heard many of his stories of growing up there: of his family, of the devastation of their decades-long civil war, of his ministry to small towns in the bush in the aftermath. But it always seemed so far away. So, when he offered yet again, I smiled, nodded, looked at my feet, and offered a non-committal “Sure, sure….”

L-R: Rev. Dave Woessner and Rev. John Edgar Freeman.

Photo: submitted

But when I looked up, I saw that this time he was completely committed, that he had heard something from the Spirit: “I want to show you my home, where I am from.” He was asking me to join him on a pilgrimage. And that was that. From that time forward, I simply said “yes” to everything he proposed, trusting that God would show us everything we needed to see together.

So last July, I boarded a plane with Edgar, his son Emmanuel, and his grandson Christian. We arrived at the height of the rainy season, which is aptly named. Throughout our time, it poured. Here in America, this would have been an inconvenience. But in Liberia, it radically changes all aspects of life, because entire portions of the country can become inaccessible overnight when roads wash out.

While Liberia enjoyed rapid development and modernization in the middle of the 20th century, the country’s infrastructure is being rebuilt slowly and unevenly in the recovery after years of violence. So a drive the distance from Springfield to Worcester could take a day or more, and need to be aborted half way, due to a critical bridge being unsafe to cross.

Nevertheless, we forged on, hopeful of visiting Edgar’s childhood home, his sponsoring church, and the communities he served in his early ministry.

Edgar’s children reunited in Monrovia for his return. John, Edgar-Lynn, Agnes (Ayo), and Shannon (whom Edgar adopted during the civil war), joined their Liberian-American brother, Emmanuel, in celebrating Edgar’s return and welcoming Christian and me. Edgar’s grandchildren visited as well: Ibrahim (Edgar-Lynn’s son), and “Little Debbie,” (Ayo’s son, who is named after Edgar’s wife Dr. Deborah Harmon Hines, whom many readers will know from our own diocese).

Ayo prepared a feast: line fish with waterleaf (a strongly flavored fish cooked with greens in palm oil and spices), along with jollof rice and chicken. These particular dishes were truly a taste of home; they are the beloved recipes of Cape Mount County, where Edgar’s family has lived for generations. And I experienced firsthand an amazing Liberian custom: an outrageous abundance of food!

Images from the pilgrimage to Liberia.

Photos: Dave Woessner

I thought this first evening would be “overdoing it,” in honor of our arrival. But no, it turns out it is just normal! It truly is an amazing amount of food; Thanksgiving at every meal. While this is a sign of their generous hospitality, many people are also still celebrating social stability and having enough to eat, after years of deadly danger and uncertainty. The abundance of food is only surpassed by the abundance of joy around the table.

Our first trip and main focus was a visit back to Edgar’s hometown, Robertsport, where Edgar was celebrated as a returning son and hero, and I was welcomed as a member of the community. St. John’s Church, which is both the parish church for the town and the chapel for the local boarding school, is guided with care by Fr. Richard Kpehe, the vicar. Both the school and the church were damaged greatly and nearly destroyed during the war.

Images from the pilgrimage to Liberia.

Photos: Dave Woessner

A year ago, St. Michael’s-on-the- Heights held a fundraiser and made a donation to St. John’s, that they might rebuild their roof, which had sustained severe damage. This union between our churches across an ocean and two continents was deepened by my visit, which the people of St. John’s took as a great honor. During the service, their Senior Warden, Mr. Kormah, extended an invitation to officially become “sister churches.”

Edgar and I concelebrated Eucharist, and I had the honor of preaching. Because of the American origins of Liberia, first as a colony and then as a new home for freed slaves, the primary church of the country was the Episcopal Church. Though they are now an autonomous national church, they still use our American Book of Common Prayer, so the prayers and liturgies of our churches are identical. To be so far from home, yet to be welcomed and named as a brother, to pray the very same prayers that we pray every Eucharist…these experiences truly made me feel as if I were a man with two homes, thousands of miles apart. The Church is the Body of Christ. And the Body of Christ is real: we truly are united as one, by the One.

Images from the pilgrimage to Liberia.

Photos: Dave Woessner

After our homecoming in Robertsport, Edgar led us on many adventures in ministry, witnessing, and the duties of our office. We trekked upcountry across rickety log bridges, anointed the ailing, blessed school students, prayed in the rubble of destroyed churches, led worship and prayer (everywhere!), received live roosters as gifts of honor (twice!), learned with a local imam (Christians and Muslims live in total peace here, interwoven in family and community), chatted with village elders, munched kola nuts, watched children play and laugh, snuck across the border into Sierra Leone, ate freshly caught fish with Haji and Uncle Momo, paid respects to the Diocesan Bishop and the Dean of the Cathedral, and spent many evenings with the President of Cuttington University, the oldest college in sub-Saharan Africa. And everywhere we sang, sang, sang, and danced, danced, danced.

Liberia is a magical place, a new home which I had not known before. I do hope you might come visit sometime. ♦