I set off from my Harare hotel early in the morning to seek out the "lost tribe" of Israel; I knew I had at least two hours of traveling to my destination. Besides getting lost in torrential rain, we arrived at the outskirts of Rusape and stumbled across the small church with the star of David on it. I was welcomed by a man wearing a kipah and a star of David around his neck, who escorted me inside the church where a seat was waiting for me. A congregation of some 125 people, dressed in their best clothes, were listening attentively to a speaker who was reading a passage from the bible and discussing its meaning. They were talking alternatively in Shona, the local language, and English. After a time, the analysis of this biblical passage ended and the Rabbi on the pulpit welcomed me and recessed the congregation for a short break. They had begun their morning prayers at nine a.m. and it was now 11 o’clock. Rabbi Ambrose Makuaza greeted me warmly; he had been expecting me and was worried because I was so late. We talked briefly and he told me that the next part of the service would be the torah reading, then the communal lunch followed by an afternoon service.

I settled down for the next service, which started off with the most incredible singing I have ever heard. During the course of the late morning, the choir of 30 young people sang many songs in Shona, English, and Hebrew – henay ma tovu was extraordinary. The singing in multiple harmonies with everyone marching and swaying in rhythm was hypnotic. One song lasted about fifteen minutes while the choir marched around the chapel. For a while, I felt more like I was in a Baptist church than this Jewish (?) synagogue. At a certain point, all the men took out their tallit, said their prayer and put them on. To follow the service, I was handed a thin, worn-out prayer book, which covered Shabbat, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Passover. I was able to follow the service, which was primarily in English, but as far as I could tell, this was a unique Shabbat service unlike any I had experienced in reformed synagogues; although it contained alternative reader and congregation responses and a few traditional Jewish prayers, like the mourners’ Kaddish.

After some time, Rabbi Makuwaza rose to give his sermon. Despite his 72 years, he was a powerful speaker. His voice rose and fell rhythmically with great intonation. He spoke in Shona, but one of the elders translated everything publicly into English – probably for my benefit. He began by reminding the congregation that they were all Jews – not Christians. He explained to them that the bible said that biblical Jews had traveled "beyond the rivers of Ethiopia," and they were part of those people. He explained that the totems of their forefathers connected them to the various tribes of Israel – he was a Levite. He stressed that no one can deny them their right to be Jewish: his father raised him as a Jew and he will continue in that tradition. He reminded his congregation that God commanded the Jews not to eat pork and other specific animals to be protected from certain ailments so they would remain strong. For that reason, his people followed those traditional dietary laws. Holding a Shofar in his hand, he emphasized that they all must fight for their Jewish identity in Africa and in the world. Long ago, God had punished the Jews because they had turned away form him; however, he will return to his chosen people as they follow his commandments. He explained that God speaks to his people through their leaders, particularly the Rabbi and elders, just as he spoke to them in biblical days through Moses, Joshua and other prophets. The congregation was entranced as the Rabbi spoke and one could hear grunts of approval or whispers of amen throughout his sermon. At last, Rabbi Mukawaza asked that anyone wanting to become a Jew should come forward and sit in the few chairs placed in the center of the congregation. A man and a woman with her baby came forward and took a seat. A short ceremony was read as they were inducted into the congregation and the singing again began. It was a spiritual experience.

Lastly, I was called on to say a few words to the congregation. I thanked them for having me in their service and explained that I was representing a group called Kulanu that was interested in locating and supporting scattered Jewish communities throughout the world. I told them that their community was no longer unknown and had been in the newspapers in the United States. I explained that I belonged to a congregation called "Machar" in Washington that believed that people are Jews based on their practices and the culture they followed, and not on their color or the language they spoke. Jews all over the world have suffered throughout history and therefore must help each other. I hoped that we could help them. I then presented them with several gifts from kulanu and a t-shirt from Machar. The congregation was very appreciative. When I finished talking, the rabbi told me to walk down the aisle because everyone wanted to shake my hand.

During the lunch break that followed, I had more time to talk with individuals and understand what this strange group was about. Many of the believers were second or third generation Jews, and there were another half a dozen attached churches/synagogues throughout the country, with total followers of some 5000. For them, Judaism was a faith in God, not a culture or race. They traced not just their own heritage back to the tribes of Israel, but believed that all the Bantu people of Africa came from Israel and had migrated south around 70 AD. (Originally, the Bushmen had occupied southern Africa and the Bantus later descended from the north.) Given their history, they follow the traditions and dictates of the old testament. They believe in "the religion of Jesus (a Jew) and no the religion about Jesus," although Jesus is regarded as a rabbi by them. They put little emphasis on the rabbinic or post-biblical social, cultural and ceremonial traditions that have developed over the ages. Thus I would regard this group as Jews by choice, although I swear one looked like my Uncle Saul.

February 15, 1997