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(Editor's note: Deacon Solomon serves at St. Peter's parish in Saratoga Springs.)

After a 14-day mission trip sponsored by the Maryknoll Fathers, my mind is filled with vivid images and experiences that will shape my life for years to come.

The trip's goal was to learn about the people of Kenya and Tanzania and explore how we are linked to our sisters and brothers in East Africa. Our itinerary brought us on a 2,600-mile road trip from the heavily-populated city of Nairobi to missions in rural Kenya and Tanzania, and through the Serengeti National Wildlife Preserve and the Ngorongoro Crater nature preserve.

Each day, we were challenged to reflect on how God was speaking to us. I learned a great deal about the beauty of the people of Africa and the depth of their faith.

On my first morning in Nairobi, I saw vibrant tropical flowers and trees in bloom. The jacaranda tree, with its prolific purple flowers, awakened me to the tropical continent and its people. It was like inhabiting the Eden -- yet I knew this garden is under siege by pollution, greed and human recklessness.

I heard God's voice saying, "I made all creation that you might be surrounded by beauty and live together with me in harmony." Throughout the trip, jacaranda trees were a sign of hope.

The Kibera slum in Nairobi -- that's the way residents describe it -- is home to more than 400,000 people. They live in 12-by-12-foot shacks with mud walls, dirt floors and corrugated tin roofs. There is little access to clean water, toilets or electricity.

More and more people have moved from rural Kenya to the city for work. Three families welcomed us into their homes; our group of nine had to squeeze inside. We ended each visit praying together for urgent needs. Despite conditions which could make life unbearable, the people were filled with a vibrant and living faith that gave them a reason to live and hope.

At the top of the hill in the Kibera slum is Christ the King Church. Unlike the shacks, it has a concrete foundation. On Sunday morning, we climbed the hill along with hundreds of people for Mass.

The journey uphill through crowded streets littered with garbage, muddy from recent rains, was like no other I have experienced. More than 1,500 people in their best clothes gathered around the simple altar; the two-and-a-half-hour Mass was a celebration, with vibrant singing, dancing and symbols that filled the senses and evoked a spirit of community in Christ Jesus.

It was a role reversal to be in a congregation of thousands of people of color. The nine of us on pilgrimage were the only white faces. Yet I never felt alone or excluded. The assembly warmly welcomed us.

The liturgy celebrated the joy of the Gospel that Pope Francis has promoted. It may be because the African people are people of joy, but in the midst of such squalor, the Good News of the Gospel and the gift of the Eucharist find fertile ground in the open hearts of God's people.

It's fitting that the church is called Christ the King. Christ the King presides over this slum, lives there and will one day transform it into the city of God. The Christians of Kibera are model disciples who love Jesus with their whole heart, mind and strength. They come to church dressed for the banquet and go back down the hill to face each day with hope that God's reign of peace and justice will come.

In the heat of the slum, Jesus spoke with clarity: "Do not be afraid. I will carry you on my back to the place where jacaranda trees bloom and you will be filled with my peace."

Sometimes in life, the simplest gesture reaches deep inside us. After Mass, Michael took me to his small home. Michael was better off than most Kibera residents, because he had a small business: He raised chickens to sell in the market.

He offered to make eggs for breakfast. I knew these eggs were the only means for his livelihood, but accepted his hospitality.

On a small kerosene stove, his teenage son boiled eggs. Michael distributed them. We prayed a blessing and ate. Michael smiled broadly when I told him they were the best eggs I'd ever had.

Our talk was lively. He laughed as he taught me some Swahili and we struggled to understand each other. Underneath the language barrier, something deeper united us: We had shared a meal and Jesus was present in our midst. We were brothers on a journey.

The safari through the Ngorongoro Crater and Serengeti National Park offered a glimpse of what God intended in breathing the spirit into every creature on this planet. These vast African plains are a habitat for many endangered species, a unique ecosystem that is in balance -- but that balance is threatened by global warming and severe environmental changes.

Pope Francis' encyclical "Laudato Si'" makes a connection: Justice for the poor must be rooted in environmental justice. The most urgent crises facing Mother Earth -- global warming, water scarcity, loss of diversity of species and climate change -- disproportionately affect the poor.

The manner in which animals and plants in the Serengeti live in harmony offer hope for humanity that, someday, we, too, might live in harmony with creation.

Throughout my stay, I heard the Swahili phrase "Mungo yupo." It means "God is here." I heard "Mungo yupo" from people in the slums of Nairobi, from orphaned boys saved from the streets and from children grateful for the gift of an education.

"God is here:" That phrase captures the faith, hope and joyful spirit of the East African people. God is with the people of Africa and with each of us. It is all we need to make sense out of our chaotic and unpredictable world. It is the very foundation of our hope as disciples of Jesus: Emmanuel, God with us.[[In-content Ad]]

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