What would you like to share about your background / history / motivation that brought you to mission in Africa?

I go back to Tanzania because I'm rooting for the underdog. Sure there are a lot of needs and challenges in America. But if you want the classic 'underdog' it's Tanzania. According to recent economic statistics Tanzania is the third poorest country in the world after Mozambique and Ethiopia. AIDS, famine, refugees, malaria, poverty, low economy, corruption, poor roads. You name it. Tanzania has got it. But we missionaries feel called to accompany the local people in all this, and where we can, try to make a small difference. Please don't get the idea that all of Africa is grim and desperate. The former president of Tanzania Julius Nyerere once said: "We have many problems but we remain cheerful." In fact Africans are some of the happiest, most joyful people that I have ever met – even in the midst of their material poverty.

In reflecting on the missionary side of my life in Tanzania I recall the passage in St. Luke's Gospel when Jesus said to his disciples: "I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose." For me this means going to the other cities in Tanzania too like Arusha and Mwanza and Rulenge. Mission means sharing a journey with the Tanzanian people. These days we talk a lot about "inculturation" which means rooting the Good News of Jesus Christ in African soil. There's a wonderful video on various liturgical celebrations throughout the continent of Africa called "The Dancing Church." That's a great title to describe the spirit and enthusiasm of the church in Africa.

In your own mind, what are some of the highlights of your missionary career in Africa, your successes, your adventures, your greatest joys?

I feel that God's greatest missionary gift to me has been a deep love for the African people. They are my brothers and sisters. In turn the African people have given me much love and friendship. I am deeply thankful for this precious gift and grace.

One Saturday afternoon I went to Maji Moto Outstation in Iramba Parish in Musoma, Tanzania to celebrate the Eucharist. Since there was no outstation chapel we used the government primary school. It was a typically hot tropical day. First I sat in the headmaster's office for those Catholics who wanted to celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation. After about twenty minutes the fifth or sixth person came in quietly. Then a man's voice began in Swahili (the national language of Tanzania): "Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been twenty-five years since my last confession." The moment I heard the words twenty-five years I felt a surge of energy, a charge of electricity that I can only describe as the "grace of God." As the man talked about his past life and his desire to return to God after these many years, I felt the action of God's love and mercy so alive in that small rural school office. It was truly a moment of grace.

We see the star Shaq O'Neal and other players getting pumped up before an important basketball game when the adrenaline is really flowing and they feel that they can do anything. Well, I drove into the parking lot of the festively decorated St. Peter's Church in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania on Easter Sunday to prepare to celebrate the 9:30 a.m. Mass. Suddenly I heard the joyful Swahili singing, drumming and clapping radiating from the church at the end of the previous mass. The joy and enthusiasm were "electric." Immediately, spontaneously, I was pumped up, sky high, ready to go. As I walked from my car some colorfully dressed African school children came running over to wish me a "Happy Easter." Then as I walked into church a Tanzanian woman wished me well and hoped the Holy Spirit would be with me in my homily. Wow! I was really pumped up. Isn't this what the Spirit of the Risen Christ is supposed to do to us?

What are some of the insights gained through your life / perspective as an American Catholic missioner in Africa that you'd like to share with the world?

One day Bishop Christopher Mwoleka came to our house in Nyabihanga Village in Rulenge, Tanzania on an unexpected visit. My good friend Athanasius and I hurriedly prepared tea for the villagers who came to greet the bishop. We started with two full thermos, but then several other visitors came and soon we had finished all the tea. I wondered what I would do if another person came. Just then one of our neighbors arrived to say hello. As I started to apologize for not having any more tea, Athanasius spontaneously picked up his own cup of tea and politely handed it to the visitor. It was a simple gesture of sharing, but for me a profound act of love and beauty. By his example Athanasius had evangelized me.

I was sitting in my office at the Maryknoll Language School in Makoko, Tanzania. The watchman came to the door to say that I had a visitor – a woman named Veronica from Iramba Parish. "Veronica," I said to myself. "Could it really be Veronica, the crippled woman from Kemugongo Outstation in my former parish?" With donations from my 25th Anniversary of Missionary Priesthood celebrations, I had given her a tricycle (a three-wheel bicycle with regular-size bike tires). After crawling on her hands and knees for 20 years she now operated the tricycle by pedaling with her hands. "It's a brand new life for her," a friend said. Now Veronica had come to visit me. She traveled 40 miles by local bus – putting the tricycle on the top. Then with help from a friend she pedaled the two miles out to Makoko. She brought me a present of a colorful African woven basket that she made herself. What a precious gift! Veronica had evangelized me.

One morning my Toyota pickup truck broke down on the road from Maswa to Bariadi in western Tanzania. After waiting in the hot sun for a half hour a big Coca Cola truck came by and the driver named Musa kindly towed my vehicle to the next town – a common occurrence of friendship and mutual help on our poor dirt roads. Part of the time I sat in his big cab and we talked about – of all things – "religion." Musa was a Muslim who belonged to the Nyamwezi Ethnic Group from Tabora. In commenting on the tensions between Christians and Muslims in Tanzania he told me: "There is only one God. God is like a large baobab tree with different branches that represent the different religions: Islam, Christianity, African Religion, and so forth. These branches are part of the same family of God. So we should all work together." Simply put, Musa taught me an African metaphor of world religions and Interreligious dialogue.

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Maryknollers in Nairobi, Kenya