Also I am working on a video for the translators to show their home church (and for us to show you) about it. It's odd since really us getting to go was a God thing. It seems odd that we'd do so much communicating about it, but people seem to keep asking us. Part of the ministry we have to people here, supporting them, is to tell them in detail about what happened so they can get excited to.
There is simply a good shot in the arm that takes place when you realize God is working and people are excited.
SO...
here is the write up I did. Some phrases may not be clear because the intended audience is folks who live here and understand the context of the phrases.
enjoy (for you information gluttons, this is a long read)
Gapapaiwa New Testament Dedication
When you are planning a trip like we took to Menapi, Papua New Guinea it is very easy to count the cost. You calculate the cost of plane fare, boat fare, pmv fare, helicopter fare, the cost on your body in travelling and going through the many legs of the journey, and the cost in being away from your job in Ukarumpa. So before my family embarked on this journey I was seeing the expense associated with it and I was hoping somehow there would be value in that expense.
Across the country the Gapapaiwa people were also undergoing their own expense. They were preparing for us to arrive. They built seven new houses, two new communal sleep bunk houses, a haus kuk, a shower room and a very nice new liklik haus (possibly the nicest any of us have ever seen, complete with a western style seat and sandy floor). They were writing praise songs and welcoming songs. They had re-written the songs of their ancestors to contain lyrics of praise and worship to God. They were rehearsing dances and organizing processions. They were preparing speeches and meeting in committees. And perhaps the most impressive of all to me personally, they were fasting and praying. Praying that God would be glorified rather than themselves. That God would receive praise rather than showing off to their guests.
A testimony to our various travel ministries, as I arrived to the village by boat (the Kwadima II) my wife and children arrived at the exact same time via helicopter. We all arrived to a procession of dancers in feathered bilas, with shells and spears making symbolically threatening gestures towards us. Unsure of how to react, at one instance I made a comical look of fear, widening my eyes and leaning back. The group of children watching nearby laughed hilariously. The warrior dancer, had successfully scared the huge white man.
If you’ve been to a village, you’re used to feeling as if everyone is watching you for entertainment. But this village felt different. There was a definite feeling of hospitality, of welcome, of not being the show, but being the guests and more than that, of being brothers and sisters.
We were guided in a procession of dancers banging their kundu drums in unison, you could hear the shells and beads moving with their steps. Eventually we arrived at a choir of children, women and men singing to us the songs they had been preparing. One in English really touched me, “Welcome brothers and sisters, we know this is a special visit. Thank you for coming from your places to the Gapapaiwa Bible Dedication.” The thought that we were brothers and sisters with these people we hadn’t yet met was a very emotional one to realize.
As they sang to us, I videotaped this very obvious divide, we the guests stood feet away from the choir as they sang. But then, the gap closed, and they all stood in line to shake each and every one of our hands. It was 24 hours before the dedication and I had already seen and heard the value of this trip. These people were excited to see us, excited to receive the Word, and very hospitable.
Menapi is a beautiful place. A coastal village with white coral sand beaches. Culturally they value cleanliness and it is perhaps the cleanest, prettiest village I have ever seen. The combination of the new buildings, the clean sandy areas, and the people’s hospitality made for an extremely pleasant village stay.
The next morning began the day of the dedication. A ceremony re-enacting the original arrival of missionaries one hundred and eighteen years ago began the festivities. The translator couple arrived with the bibles on a large outrigger canoe complete with canvas sail. As they reached the shore, a group of warriors symbolizing the original cannibals blew the conch shell and arrived ready to fight. Spears were thrust, arrows pointed, slings snapped, it was a menacing site. The translators shouted something in tok ples, I missed the meaning of it but the gist was that they were come to share the Word with the people. Not long after two women dressed in grass skirts came to the canoe and held up another grass skirt, symbolizing peace and that the missionaries were safe.
This began the parade to the dedication grounds. With the dancers in bilas in front, men behind them shouldering the Bibles on bamboo poles, and behind them the order was very specific. The order of the procession seemed to have some sort of cultural esteem as they were specific to tell us who went when. After the Bibles went the translators then their supporters (home church and SIL members) then the translation team, and the Anglican priests dressed in white, and the following warriors. The cannibal warriors were clowning it up at the back making people laugh the entire way. When I say “the people” I mean the hordes of onlookers. There had to be thousands of people there, as I looked around it was a massive amount of people. I do tend to exaggerate, but there were easily at least one thousand people there who were simply looking on.
The night before we had dinner with a family who told us their story of coming to Christ and how it is important for this work (the translation) to be passed down to their children and their children after that. So when we came to this moment in the procession I was deeply touched. We came to a log bridge, on the other side of which was a large group of children dressed in white. They shouted something back to the procession before we could pass. The sentiment was this “we recognize this Bible is also for us, it is our time now, we accept this gift of the Word and will treasure it.” Then we crossed.
The drums were pounding the voices singing, tambourines chiming, and then we arrived in the field with the stage and the Bibles came to rest in the front, a place of honor. Songs were sung by the visiting whiteskins, speeches, sermons, testimonies all in preparation to explain the gravitas of the work that had gone into this translation and to honor those involved. But always, always to glorify God in everything done. God was indeed glorified this day. The enemy tried to intervene with illness, technical failure, even a death in the crowd that was kept silent until later. But God was glorified in a big way.
The translator couple were very touched and I won’t go into detail about their emotional reactions, but you could tell they were very happy and overwhelmed by their people.
Later that day the food was ceremoniously dispensed, pigs were speared and prepared. Everyone partook of the pork because it was the official acceptance of the hospitality given so freely.
The mood of everyone there was similar. We were all so incredibly impressed that these people valued God, valued the Word, and valued our visit. There were a few small “God moments” like the trained chef showing up out of nowhere offering help in meal preparations, or the recovery of some lost photos from a digital card. One instance reminded a visiting friend of Paul in the temple debating as the people gathered to hear a very long testimony and then challenged it, quoting Scripture.
It was truly a people engaged with the Word of God. It is hard to communicate exactly how welcoming and loving the community felt. Perhaps I should say that out of one thousand Bibles printed, with 250 pre-sold, the day of the dedication, 800 Bibles were sold. It was a resounding success, and a remarkable testament to the work God is doing through all of us, brothers and sisters.
