Congregation builds deep connection with Congolese refugees
Corn. Beans. Squash.
Let’s take a moment to reflect on these three remarkable crops.
In ancient agricultural traditions, especially among Native American tribes, these three crops are known as the “Three Sisters.” They are planted together because they support and nourish each other. Corn provides structure, beans enrich the soil, and squash spreads out, protecting and preserving.
Alone, they have value. But together? Together, they create something extraordinary—an ecosystem of abundance.
Let’s talk about corn. Corn stands tall and strong. It reaches toward the sun, turning energy into nourishment. It spends all summer soaking in the light and turning kernels into carbohydrates, so that all winter, we can be sustained by it. If you’ve ever opened a corn husk, you’ve seen golden strands of silk. Each strand is a lifeline, connecting every kernel to the source of life and growth.
Let me introduce you to Eddy. It was early December a few Christmases ago when I received an unusual email. Eddie introduced himself as director of a Congolese refugee youth choir. He said, “We’re looking for winter clothes: gloves, jackets, hats. Can your church help?”
Alone, they have value. But together? Together, they create something extraordinary—an ecosystem of abundance.
At first, I thought, “A Congolese choir? Here?” I dismissed the email—but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Two weeks later, I went searching for it in my junk mail, and I replied: “Eddy, tell me more.”
Eddy responded, sharing that his group of sixty-five refugees—including many children and youth—were meeting at a space on Independence Square, just up the street from the Temple. This group, connected by threads of resilience forged in refugee camps in Tanzania, had arrived in Independence, seeking hope and a new start.
We decided to meet at the Main Street Coffee House, where he told me all about his group and showed me several music videos the Salvation Choir had made, right in front of the Temple. I was intrigued and said, “OK, you might want to get permission to do that next time, but tell me more.”
Eddy shared that since moving to Independence, he had been captivated by the Temple—its architecture and presence. He was drawn to the message of peace that he had read about on the Internet. He wanted to know more, but because of COVID-19, he’d never been able to go inside.
I said, “You’re in luck! I’m literally the guy who gives tours at the Temple!” I invited him to visit whenever he could, and he took me up on the offer.
His first visit was with a small group of friends—young adults in flip-flops, and socks—and Eddy translated everything I said into Swahili. A few days later, he brought some leaders from his group.
I started the tour, and Eddy said: “No, give it in French. Most of them speak French.” So, I gave the tour in French, while one leader translated into Swahili. Each visit deepened my curiosity: Who are these people…what is their story…and what is God up to?
It was a full-circle moment—one of those golden strands of connection that tie us together and lead us back to the source of life.
It all became clear on the fourth visit. Eddy sent me a message around 10:00 p.m., asking if he could bring his entire family—well, seven of the twelve of them—to the Temple. I said, “Sure. When?”
“Well, right now, if possible.” Because some worked day shifts, and others worked nights, it was the only time most could be there. I agreed to meet them.
We began to walk up the Worshiper’s Path. In front of the burning bush, I turned to Eddy and said, “It’s fascinating to see a group of Congolese refugees here in Independence. You know, I’ve worked with Congolese refugees in London and Brussels.”
His face lit up, and he said, “Oh, I’d love to go to Brussels!”
“Why?” I asked, jokingly. “Because it’s Europe? And Europe is amazing?”
Eddy laughed and said, “No, because I have family there.”
He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of his aunt and her family in Brussels. And you are not going to believe this...I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and quickly scrolled through my pictures. Then, I held my phone up to him and said, “Here I am, standing in your aunt’s house.”
It was a full-circle moment—one of those golden strands of connection that tie us together and lead us back to the source of life. I couldn’t ignore it. It was clear that God’s Spirit was up to something, at work through sacred connections, weaving us into a tapestry of corncob community and belonging.
Now, we can’t live on just a diet of corn. It’s not sustainable. It isn’t nutritionally complete.
Beans are an excellent source of protein. Beans fill in the gaps left by corn. A person actually can live quite well on a diet of beans and corn.
Just imagine: This congregation is made mostly of children and youth—75 percent of them!
Pole beans do not stand tall and strong like corn. They’re unable to support themselves…pole beans climb, wrapping themselves tightly around the corn for support. This seems pretty selfish at first sight, like they’re just takers, stealing precious space and strength from corn. But the beans don’t just take; they also give.
Beans put nitrogen in the soil, enriching the ground for future crops. The relationship between corn and beans is one of mutual support and enrichment. Beans support the soil…that supports the corn…that supports the beans…
We held our first service the week before the 2023 World Conference, and our second gathering was at World Conference, in the Auditorium Chamber. The Salvation Choir sang for the opening Communion service. Can you imagine your second service in Community of Christ being with thousands of members from different cultures and countries from all over the world?
We spent the following months offering pre-baptismal classes and introduced Community of Christ’s Enduring Principles and Mission Initiatives. Before long…a new congregation was born. The Light of Hope, a Swahili-speaking congregation, became a vibrant, growing community. Just imagine: This congregation is made mostly of children and youth—75 percent of them!
Most have never set foot in the Congo. Their lives have been shaped by refugee camps, displacement, and resilience, but here they are finding a new place to plant seeds of hope, rooted in faith and community.
Beans remind us of our interdependence—leaning on each other for strength while enriching the soil for those who come after us. In community, we grow stronger together.
But beans and corn still do not provide the vitamins rich in keratin that makes a diet complete. That’s where squash comes in.
Beans remind us of our interdependence—leaning on each other for strength while enriching the soil for those who come after us.
Squash spreads out, covering the ground, shielding the soil, and protecting the environment. It prevents weeds from taking over and retains moisture, aiding the conditions for growth. Squash provides safety and stability so other plants can thrive.
A few months ago, I shared with Central USA Mission Center President Greg Wilson that the Light of Hope Congregation had almost doubled in size. He connected me with John Boyd, pastor of the East 39th Street Congregation in Independence. Their building, which holds up to 250 people, was being used by ten to fifteen members each week.
What occurred next is something that doesn’t happen often: This congregation, instead of clinging tightly to self-preservation and a sense of ownership over “their building,” opened their doors…and hearts.
Not only did this generous congregation offer to share its space with the Light of Hope group, it moved its own meeting time, offering its “prime times,” Saturday and Sunday mornings, to the Congolese congregation. It even committed to covering operational costs so the new group could begin to contribute incrementally to the operations budget.
Now that is squash in action—just fifteen good seeds, willing to become squash and spread out what they had to offer, creating a safe, nurturing environment for others to grow and flourish. Their decision wasn’t just generous; it was visionary. They listened to God’s Spirit, calling them to protect and nurture something vulnerable…something new.
Corn. Beans. Squash. While all three of these crops are delicious by themselves, they are better, stronger, and more complete…together. When we are intentional about creating viable and sustainable environments, where each one can grow and flourish…we create a more healthy and complete world in which to live.
God calls us to healing,
Divine love revealing,
Wherever we meet human need…
Friends, take a moment to consider: Where can you plant corn, beans, and squash in your life? At home, at work, in your congregation, or your community? Where can you create connections, offer support, and protect those who are vulnerable?
Be like corn: Stand tall, rooted in God’s light, and let your connections lead you to others.
Be like beans: Lean on one another, allowing our interwovenness, our interdependence, to enrich the soil of community through mutual care.
And be like squash: Spread out, protect, and create safe spaces for growth.
These three sisters show us the power of connection, support, and protection. They remind us that…together…we can cultivate communities that reflect God’s ultimate vision for peaceful humanity. Like the Three Sisters, we, too, are better together, forming communities where we not only grow, but where we thrive!
This article is adapted from a Witness the Word sermon.
