MARCH 2007

ISSUE 9 - ISSN 1448 - 6326

PRACTICAL THEOLOGY - MELANESIAN STYLE *

The eight essays below are all written by Melanesians from Papua New Guinea. They are fine examples of Narrative Theology—Melanesian style. They begin with people’s life-experiences—including HIV/Aids, traditional faith healing, initiation ceremonies, gender issues, suffering and death, celebration and meal-sharing. They then reflect on the meaning of these experiences from the perspective of Christian faith. The approach is profoundly dialogical. It does not see Christian faith as something imposed from the outside—too often with very European clothes. Rather, it recognizes that God communicates with each of us according to our particular family, tribe, culture and situation. This results in concrete, practical and inspiring theological reflection that, in these examples, is both genuinely Christian and authentically Melanesian. They witness to what one author names as the movement to a new way of being Melanesian Church. [Editor]

A Personal Outlook on Traditional Faith in Healing

Allanza Apini

My father has reached his 75th year of life. Hard work and the worries of looking after a large family had taken its toil on his body. He became ill and despite seeing many doctors, his illness persisted. As his condition worsened, he started to look towards our traditional village doctors for cures. However, even though they were plentiful, he was reluctant to use them, knowing that I don’t have much patience with them and have many times made known to him my stance against them.

One day, while I was away, a family friend who is also a traditional village doctor dropped in for a visit. Upon seeing the condition of my father, he convinced my father to let him perform his rituals. After performing the healing rituals, he gave my father some herbs for his illness. Then they agreed on some form of payment, as is customary, and the doctor left.

When I arrived later in the evening, my father hesitantly informed me on the events of the day. I was angry but upon seeing the hopeful look on his face I curbed my anger and tried to appear calm. I pretended that I did not mind and told him not to worry about the payment, as I would take care of it. With a sigh of relief, he settled down and we spent quite a happy evening together, telling stories late into the night. After we retired for the night, I could not sleep as the events of the day still bothered me. I sat up in bed to think about it, and as I thought more about it, I became more convinced that I did the right thing by not getting upset over it.

My father and his generation were the 2nd generation of baptized Catholics, thus their belief in traditional rituals, taboos, spirits and sorcery is still very strong and is an integral part of their life. Though he is a devout Catholic and has brought us all up in a strong Catholic tradition, there’ve been many times when this deeply rooted faith in his ancestral beliefs surfaces, especially in times of extraordinary prolonged sickness among one of us the children. That’s when he would go looking for bush herbs and village doctors to come and “tend” to us. (When he becomes impatient with the slowness of the healing power of the modern medicine.) This traditional belief is expressed, more clearly and in a profound way, when we were forbidden to eat certain food, or were forbidden to swim in any river without first rubbing our bodies with certain kinds of leaves found near the river banks. This was to protect ourselves from the river spirits who might attempt to steal our shadow or ‘spirit’.

My father’s belief in his ancestral cosmic spirits must be commended for it expresses and reveals his deep spirituality for life. Though this spirituality is limited and imperfect in a certain way, it provides the basis and foundation for the spirit of the Catholic faith to take root and become an integral part of his whole person. The Faith then slowly works to develop and helps it to reject those weaknesses that are a hindrance to the growth of its perfection, without destroying the dignity and the spirit of the traditional belief. In fact, Faith becomes stronger as it is more understood in its relationship with traditional spirituality.

In the Old Testament we see a lot of similar experiences with the Israelite people. They have a traditional spirituality which is expressed in their faith in God Yahweh, who led them out of Egypt and performed great miracles for them. But while in the land of Canaan, they were exposed to many different spiritualities (Judges 6; 28ff, 1Kings 11; 4. 2Ch 25; 14ff). So prophets had to remind the Israelites to be faithful to their traditional belief.

The relationship between our traditional faith and the Catholic faith can suffer setbacks and create misunderstandings if one tries to totally isolate one from the other, especially when one totally rejects his traditional belief and regards it with contempt as an inferior form of spirituality. The rejection and disrespect for one’s own traditional beliefs can blind one to the richness of God’s different level of gifts of faith to every people on earth according to their own specific environmental, cultural and social upbringing. The acceptance and appreciation of one’s traditional beliefs opens one’s heart to the faith founded in the Gospels more readily. One is also able to acknowledge and appreciate more fully the truths revealed in the Gospel as the Gospel eventually reveals the short falls of one’s own traditional beliefs and assist in rejecting those short falls which are a hindrance to one’s spiritual growth. (Rom 8:38) In the New Testament, we see Paul and the Apostles had to do away with some of their traditional beliefs so that the Truth of the Gospel may purify and bring to perfection their traditional faith (Acts 9; 1-20, 10;11-15).

Though there are elements of ‘evil spirituality’ that exist in traditional rituals for healing, most often one finds they are not ‘evil’ in the true sense of the word, but rather a form of neutrality. “Traditional stories often stress the fact that those who obeyed what was demanded of them by non-human beings, found well being, while those who disobeyed found death.”[1] These rituals are harmless in themselves unless they are performed in an incorrect way or without a proper sense of respect. The need for proper preparation is as vital as the action itself as this guarantee the success of the ritual.

Thus, my father’s openness to traditional cures is not a rejection of his Catholic faith but rather a complement. It is an acknowledgment that God uses people and things that my father is comfortable with; rituals and cures that he understands better and are very significant to him and with which he is able to relate and identify. Thus, one need not spend too much time worrying about whether these rituals and traditional cures are unchristian, but whether it expresses what the Gospel preaches, that is love. As the Late Pope John Paul II aptly expresses… “Love is … also the sole criterion for judging what is to be done, changed or not changed. It is the principle, which must direct every action, and the end to which that action must be directed. When we act with a view to charity, nothing is unseemly and everything is good.”[2] In addition, the Catholic faith has created an awareness that all good things come from God (Gen 1: 4). That God has always existed and has already revealed this cure to our forefathers under the guise of their traditional beliefs.

For there is only one God and He is understood in many different ways and cultures, some less, some more, than others. “Some Melanesians do not necessarily view magic (traditional healing) as undermining the exclusive claim of God, because their ancestral spirits and deities are not considered to be ultimate powers, they merely function as intermediaries in regard to some other mightier source of power.”[3] This Truth, revealed in the Scriptures (Ex 20:3) encourages one to accept his traditional beliefs with joy and pride, for it also reveals that all spirituality comes from only one source…God.

[1] Mantovanni Ennio, “Is Magic Excluded from Dialogue? Missiological Reflection on Magic” in Catalyst Vol. 27, No. 2 (1997).

[2] Redemptoris Missio, Encyclical Letter of John Paul II (1991): No.60.

[3] Montovanni Ennio, “An Introduction to Melanesian Religions” in Point No. 6, 216.

Initiation into Christian Adulthood

Sr Grace Domani SR

Introduction

I come from a society that believes in the existence of spirits. In my area, people commonly call the deity, Sainduo. ‘Sai’ means unseen mystical being; ‘Duo’ means a person who is a man. That being existed long before things were created. Someone whom no eye has seen but he was and is existing (Jn 1:1-14). Traditional religious rites enable us to enter into deeper awareness of the sacred.

The human longing and searching for the sacred communion with the source of life was also a traditional experience encountered and lived through specific initiations and rituals. The men entered into initiation that taught them attitudes needed for adult manhood. Women entered into initiation that prepared them for the full responsibilities of womanhood. They were holy experiences. The traditional experience of Sainduo may also be viewed as an experience of the spirit of Christ who is Alpha and Omega, and present from all time and for all times among peoples of the world and throughout the whole universe, through God’s creative presence.

Initiation

When a baby girl is born into a family, she is very ordinary the event is without much celebration. She is only recognized for who she is as a person with dignity identity and value when she enters into her initiation into womanhood at the time of her first menstruation. The story I write about my initiation into womanhood highlights only the significant events of my experiences together with the spirituality, faith and theological point of view of that initiation which has formed me into being a committed religious sister today.

The initiation rites follow three stages over a period of at least a week. The first stage involves being isolated in a small house for several days. The second includes wearing special decorations, but also trials. The third moves from trials to the revelation of special secrets. I experienced this when I was 15 years old.

The house was built in the centre of my village. I was isolated for three days without food and water in a small house in a part of the village normally forbidden for women. When I came out to wash, the garamut slit drum was beaten to inform the people that I was coming out. The drum message was one of joy and praise. The people in my village and the nearby villages came in the night and celebrated with local chants that went on till daybreak. These chants were very personal, telling of different qualities, such as industriousness, perseverance and hospitality, that they wanted to see in me.

Different things were done to test my patience and endurance. On the fourth day, I was asked to come out for a short while and given some food to eat. Being very hungry, after three days without food, as soon as I entered into enjoying it, the food was taken away from me to test my resolve and patience. If I had protested I would have been labelled as a greedy person.

On the fifth day I was dressed completely in traditional jewellery and presented before the crowd who came for that occasion. That moment I felt dignified, special and valued and recognized in my society. It led me into a deeper realization that I was no longer a girl who could just do her own things that she liked. I was a woman and I was tested and prepared for the trials of womanhood. The things I said and did as a girl, I could do no more. It was an inner challenge for change of attitude and behaviour. My behaviour was not seen only by my family, but by the whole community where I lived and worked. It was a call to relate in public in new ways.

On the sixth day young women of my village, mainly my relatives, helped to prepare some decorations for another level of sacred ritual in which I was made to crawl through a small hut lined with nettles (salat). The hut was built so low that I had to obediently crawl through it without a word of complaint or resentment. Deep within I knew it was a preparation for real life that sometimes is painful and a struggle. Firm endurance will in the end bring success, joy, goodness, prosperity and maturity. Coming out from that hut and into a pool of water was an awfully painful experience but I made it through with a deeper sense of determination.

In the final ritual I was led into a very sacred place alone, away from all the other women who had accompanied me to the river. Two of the wise women of my village were my only guides. In deep silence and respect for the sacred I was led to the glorious ending of the ritual where I was shown a whole array of very colourful traditional jewellery displayed -- some small and some big. The place was so bright and glorious that it imbued me with inner contentment that made me forget about the pain. When we returned home the women made special dishes for celebration and young girls and women enjoyed the food.

Reflections

In my religious life as a sister today I have a sense of deep inner contentment where I am. I feel at home, but deeply rooted in the past. I see tribulations and hardships as part of life, and at such times am able to draw on an inner strength and courage to stand and face what comes. I still have the voice of the wise women echoing within, ‘To become a strong, valiant woman you need to persevere with sincerity through pain, struggles and suffering.’ It was a unique experience and I feel special because of it.

There are ways I have accepted religious life which I believe rely more on the values learned in my initiation than what was taught to us during religious formation. My cultural experience allowed me to be open to the sacred in a way that I could not have been otherwise. For example, in prayer before the blessed sacrament, I experience the sacred place within me, which I believe is an interior reflection of that small house where I spent three days during the initiation rites. The revelation of the glory of Jesus to those who search for him in prayer, reminds me of the glory of the special revealing of the treasures when I was with the wise women at the end of my initiation. I can believe in the glories of Heaven having gone through an experience of pain leading to freedom, joy and a new identity.

Jesus’ parents, Joseph and Mary followed the cultural practices of their time. Jesus was presented in the temple as the Law commanded. They offered a pair of doves and pigeons as required by the Law of Moses (Lk 2:22 -24). We read that when Joseph and Mary had finished doing all that was required by the Law they returned to their home town and Jesus grew and became strong; he was full of wisdom and God’s blessing was with him (Lk 2:42). Jesus’ baptism was surely an experience of the sacred. The connectedness with his father empowered him to feel and hear the assuring words as ‘the beloved’. This personal encounter continued in a long period of prayer and fasting in the desert (Lk 3:21 -22). Before selecting the apostles and at other times during his public ministry he entered into a sacred encounter with his father in solitude and prayer (Lk 6: 12 -16). In his moments of painful suffering he surrendered to the will of the Father, thus providing a perfect example of obedience (Mt 26:42).

In my initiation experience as a young girl I was led into the experience of the unseen mystical being Sainduo. Now as a committed Christian and a sister, my life is rooted in the mystery of Jesus Christ. To reject that sense of rootedness in the traditional experience would be harmful for the soul. I recognise the ancient tradition as a gift of God to be celebrated in the light of the truth revealed in Jesus Christ. Surely Jesus, who went through initiation experiences understands the need for initiation events appropriate for each time and place.

My initiation experience helped me discover the inner strength to choose to live, trusting in the God who called me. The virtues of patience, humility, perseverance, acceptance, trust, strength, courage, obedience, and surrender to the sacred that I entered into during the initiation rituals have been relived and strengthened by the Gospel values and Jesus’ words, ‘Anyone who wishes to follow me should take up his cross and follow me’ (Mk 8:34). I feel that there is a need to incorporate in our formation programs some ritual forms that communicate the positive values that are passed on during initiation rites. It might sound silly, but I think it will bear fruit in the end. How can we get across the value of perseverance, so that our young sisters realise that suffering strengthens faith and trust in self and in Christ who also suffered on the cross to redeem the world?

We are called to help bring people to God. In that way we share in the task of being ‘sacramental’ for others. However, we cannot reflect God to others if we have not had an experience of the mystery of God in the sacred place deep within. The formation programmes offered to the beginners must help the young person discover this mystery deep within themselves. In this way holiness and discovering of the sacredness of our consecrated life starts with oneself if we are to be sacrament to the people.

The God who is my Mother

Br Joachim Toravit

Having been brought up in a patriarchal culture I grew up with a dominant image of God as a male figure. Even priests, Christian religious education teachers, teachers and just anybody at all would talk about God as a masculine figure who is a “JUDGE” sitting there in his highest throne with a book recording all my mischief. Most interestingly even prayers that were and are still prayed in liturgies today have masculine image and just for any person who prays will always refer to God as a mighty powerful one. I really had difficulty with that masculine God. It really affected my relationship with first of all myself, then people around me and even my relationship with who my God really is.

When away for studies in Africa I was in charge of a borehole where mothers and even young girls and ladies would come to fetch water. There I was always waiting, like Jesus waiting at the well (Jn 4:1-42), for these women to come or at times they would be there waiting for me. Most would walk some 100 meters away to that borehole to fetch water. Some would come in the morning as early as 4 o’clock and as early as 3 pm in the evening. I did enjoy bossing them around like telling them to be quick in fetching so I could lock the gate or deliberately come late in the morning so they could wait a bit longer into the day, which meant their kids would go to school hungry because they would need water for cooking. How mean I was!

In the midst of all my encounters with these women and people from that area and my own brothers there was this inner storm going on. I was really unsettled deep within. There was this fear of the God that I was brought up with. The fear of hell; the fear of being judged by God; the guilt feelings of all that I had done as a young man exploring my identity; the guilt feelings of imaginations that were always referred to as bad thoughts. I mentioned my inner storm to my spiritual directress who than suggested I change my image to a feminine God. At the back of my mind was the thought, “God can not be a mother. God can’t be female”.

Then one fine evening as I sat there waiting beside the borehole, I was deeply touched by one mother who came along with three big buckets; one on the head, one in the left hand and the other on the right and not just that but a small baby at her back hanging on to her with the help of a piece of cloth. She was really sweating as if as she had just come out of a river or sea. To me it was like Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4:1-42), but the difference was that it was this woman who gave me the living water.

I honestly felt weak deep within. I was paralysed. I could feel my heart beating faster. It was like my blood vessels were opening up and I could feel blood rushing inside them. As the mother and the child came closer I could here deep within my heart a voice saying, “this is your God, the one who has cared for you since birth”. Somehow I told myself, “Truly this is the God that I have missed for so long. The God that I was always blind to relate to.” I stood up from where I was sitting, went to that mother, got her three buckets plus all the other buckets from all the ladies who were there and filled them all.

That night as I was sitting in my room memories of my mum and my sisters came flashing through my mind. How gentle they were to me. How kind and compassionate they were to me. How loving my dad was to me. How faithful both my mum and dad were towards my upbringing. Another experience that I remembered was that when I was a young and up to this time my mother would always, when ever a visitor came, give away her share of what we were having. Most mothers are like that. I do know some mothers who have to struggle all along on their own here in PNG supporting their kids in schools by earning money from marketing vegetables, working cocoa and copra, selling fish and many other small activities that are income- generating. This is the mother God that Hosea 11:1-4 portrays. A mother who calls, teaches, holds, heals and feeds her young.

I realised, my God was not the God of the early missionaries. A loving compassionate God was the God that I was longing for. The God who could set me free. God who is always there, waiting for me (Lk 15: 11- 32 The compassionate Father) How blind I was till that very moment. How could this image of a God who is a judge have kept me at a distance from God who is loving and compassionate.

Now looking back home women have contributed so much to the development of our communities by simply mothering their kids. They expressed some of the very qualities of God that are very helpful to nurturing Christian faith. Looking back at our past we do have traditional stories of creation where a female figure was present. There is the tumbuna story of a grandmother with her two grandsons. She was the God of my ancestors. This is how the tumbuna story goes.

There was once an old widow and her two grandsons. They were alone on an island. The elder son was a gardener while the younger one was a boat builder. The grandmother was their cook. She looks after them and gives them advice. Now near where they lived was a cave where they used to get salt water to flavour their food. One day they had a meeting that they should let seawater go to other parts of the earth. After the very long discussion they all agreed to let the water flow so the two grand sons broke open the cave and water started flowing. The youngest of the two got into his boat and off he sailed into the ocean and ended up in the land of white people and taught them how to make boats, cars, engines and many other things. The older son stayed back and taught the black people how to make gardens, hunting, fishing and many more.

This is our genesis story and this is just one of the many similar stories that we have here in PNG. That was how my ancestors tried explaining creation. It is very obvious how this mother figure cared for her two sons. How loving she was to them. How generous she was to the whole earth. Why did we shift from that feminine figure of God to a masculine figure of God. The bible itself is full of feminine images of God like; Isa 42:14, 46: 3-4, 49:14- 15, 66: 12-13, Dt 32:18, Hosea 11: 1-4, 1 Peter 2:2-3, Acts 17:28, Lk 15:8-10, Jn 1:13. Why did the early missionaries put too much emphasis on the masculine God who is always up there in heaven with his book? Was it because that was the image found in some parts of the bible or maybe to instil fear in people so that they would do good?

This masculine image of God has been doing me no good at all and if it did that for me than it can be so with a lot of other people both young and old. A recent experience that I had was when I was running a recollection for a group of grade 7 & 8 students. In one of our exercises I got them to draw God. It was not a surprise what I got at the end. All drawings ended up with a masculine figure with very long beard and half of those God with a book. I asked them what the book is for and the answer I got was that it is for recording our sins. After collecting their drawings I got them discussing the feminine images of God and I was surprised to see their reactions. Some laughed about the fact that God can be female. They just couldn’t grasp that at all. One of them was even brave enough to tell me that what I had just told them was a very big sin. Then I got them to look at bible passages that portrayed the feminine qualities of God and I could see changes in their facial reactions. Then we went on to drawing God the second time and some interesting drawings came out like a hen with her brood under her wings (Mt 33: 37)

Looking at Sunday mass goers today if you observed very closely you will see that the majority would be older people. As for the youths or teenagers you will have to work extra hard to get them in. Even if they do attend it was not because of their freedom but because of the fear of hell or punishment. I believe hell is another area where we can be very careful of explaining to our young Christians. Is hell really a place or just a metaphor for something else? In Mt 16:18 hell is seen as a power of death and in Acts 2:27 it refers to hades which is the Greek word for grave. So hell really is not a place of fire burning sinners alive for ever. That was what I was made to believe as a young teenager. I needed liberation and it was the feminine God that liberated me.

The question I am pondering now and maybe the whole Church of PNG should be is “What image is more relevant to today’s PNG culture? What God are we the church portraying to today’s culture? A culture diluted with: drug/alcohol abuse, abuse of women/children, abortion, regionalism, homosexuality, sex as a form of earning a living, HIV/AIDS, the issue of contraceptives, teenage pregnancy and the list could go on and on. What would Jesus do if he was here at this time? Is God as a judge attracting or repelling people.? If it does attract, how free or genuine is it? How Are We The Church Alive In Christ portraying this Christ to those practising all that I have mentioned earlier?

The image that we proclaim to others of the God we worship can really have a great impact on our behaviour and that was what I experienced as a teenager and even as a young man in my early twenties. And so I would like to conclude with this poem because this is the image that liberated me.

Melanesian Mother

Abject poverty,

Incredible endurance,

Struggle upon struggle,

To make ends meet,

To fill hungry mouths,

And live to see another day.

In her kunai hut at night wondering

Where the next meal will come from,

To forstall childrens’ piteous pleas,

And the beckoning grave –

Melanesian mother brave, brave

Incredibly brave,

And the eight wonders of the world

The smile on her face.

God Amidst the Death of Tarem

Calextus Manse

The sun was about to set. And it threw its crimson rays onto the other side of the peninsula. A breeze came blowing onto the Calaphylum trees standing near my sago palm thatched roofing house. And the leaves and the branches of the trees were rustling in the breeze. I heard shouting in the distance. Within the shout, I heard the voice of someone crying. This got my attention and I glanced to the other side of the bay. There I saw people running up to my uncle’s house. I had a discussion with my sister and aunt. In the middle of the discussion, I interrupted the discussion pointing and telling them that there must be an accident!

Not long after, I saw my mother and my other sister come around the bend. They were rushing to my house. I knew they brought bad news. I glanced toward my uncle’s house. A canoe was paddling down the peninsula. A few people sat on the canoe. The canoe arrived and was pulled up to the shore. In the midst of the commotion, I could hear clearly people crying. This made me conclude someone had died. My mother and my sister arrived and confirmed that my cousin fell from a tall mango tree. He landed on a huge rugged rock and broke his skull and the cerebrum gushed out of it. Only his heart was still beating. He was in a very critical stage. This interrupted the long discussion. And the discussion came to a close.

Tarem was the village name of the cousin. His baptised name was Julius. He was about 17 years of age and doing his grade 6 in the only primary school on the Island ( Mushu Island, Wewak). My mother and his, they are first cousins. Hence he is closely related to me. But he was adopted by an uncle. To me, as well as to others, he had an outstanding reputation in showing respect and kindness to people in the village (Bam village). Whenever I asked him to do something he always obeyed. My mother regarded him as a great fisherman. When he pulled down the outrigger canoe from the beach to the sea and paddled out fishing his adopted parents and other family members knew that he would return with the canoe filled with fish. If he caught plenty and he met other family members he would share the catch with them. The totally unexpected accident struck me with awe!

For the past few weeks, there had been prevailing peace and joy in the isolated hamlet and in the whole of the village. Peace and joy are signs of God’s presence in our midst (Gal.5:22). Thus the community is experiencing the reign of God. Specifically I would say “Emmanuel…God is with us” (Mt 1:23). However the situation completely changed when the community received the news that Julius had died from an accident. The news was like a big earthquake shaking the foundation of a building. The whole livelihood of the community was shaken. I was wondering whether God was still with the community. Gradually I came to a conclusion that God was still with us. The situation is like Jesus and his disciples in the boat. The disciples saw the storm and there was a commotion on the boat. But they did not recognize that the “Lord” was with them on the boat. Therefore they should not have been fearful because there was hope (Mk 4:35-41).

I was greatly shocked to hear about the accident. My aunt sat beside me. On hearing this she was dumbfounded and tears were trailing down her eyes. She hurriedly rose together with my sister and they left the scene. My mother did not say anymore. She too was shocked by the accident. She left, walking stooping down and proceeding quickly to the house with a limbum (a vessel for putting things inside and carrying them) hanging down from her head. For a short while a cousin ran toward the house and passed the news that Julius had died!

I was thinking. Firstly, supposing Jesus was in this situation, on hearing the news about the tragic death, what would be his response? This brought to mind the reply Jesus gave to the mourners at the funeral of Lazarus in the gospel of John. “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I’m going there to awaken him” (Jn 11:11). In this particular situation Jesus would have said this like what he had told Martha, “Your brother will rise again” (Jn 11:23). He “has fallen asleep, but I’m going to awaken him”. Jesus historically restored the life of Lazarus. However in the case of Julius, I believed that these words of Jesus will be realized at the end time. Hence the words of Jesus became my hope and strength.

Secondly, most likely Jesus would have followed the other people to see the body. He would not be like other others in a state of rushing. For he is the source of “resurrection and the life” (Jn 11:24).

The rays of the sun disappeared and soon it would be dark. The gentle waves were rolling up the white sandy beach a few metres in front of my house. The evening birds came down and sat on the trees near the house and a patch of rainforest in the neighbourhood. And they were singing away making their last call for the day. The place was very quite except the sad melody of the birds and the sound of crying coming from my uncle’s house. The setting of the day was very emotional. I did not follow the others to go and see the body of my cousin because I was scared. For it was the first time for me to encounter such an accident.

Later, I was assuming that if Jesus was like me he would have acted differently. Even though with his human nature he would encounter fear and shock like me, he would still go to see the body. The bravery of Jesus can be seen too in the story of Lazarus. Lazarus had been dead for four days. There would have been stench coming out from his body. People feared to go near his body, even his two sisters, Martha and Mary. But Jesus went to the tomb and raised Lazarus from the dead (Jn11:38-44).

I was feeling tired. I wanted to have a bit of rest. But I was emotionally disturbed. So I did not sleep. I left and slowly walked up to my elder brother’s house. “Peace be with you” (Jn 20:21). This phrase made me think deeply that Christ was near me and he was the “stronghold of my life” (Ps 27:1) . And he was speaking to me as a friend.

The sound of crying gradually faded away. And I knew the body was now brought to another uncle’s house. Some women were crying up the road. They climbed up a hill and the sound of crying came. Soon the darkness would come down. So the body was brought up quickly.

Darkness came down and covered the hamlet. The two kerosene pressure lamps were lit and wood fires were made outside the houses. In one of the sago palm leaf thatched roofing houses where the body was laid, some little children, especially his brothers, sisters and friends, were huddling around the body recalling the past memories crying. Many villagers were sitting on the verandas of both houses. A blue canvas was tied and some were also sitting under it. Many people gathered in the night for the haus-krai (mourning).

The sudden death in the village like an atomic bomb reaped apart the joy and excitement in the whole village and the Island. On the other hand it built up the community. In ordinary times, even though we are living together as a community, we do not experience a strong sense of community. According to me, we experience a strong bond of community in time of crisis in the village such as death or natural disasters (for example, an earthquake, tsunami or volcanic eruption). At such times we come together in bands or even as a whole village to meet, support, help and comfort each other. We help bring about restoration. The continuous arrival of the elderly men and women, children and young men and women at the haus-krai was an example. Some stayed and late in the night they returned to their houses. In the midst of the sadness overshadowing the community, God was present because God is a God who supports helps and comforts people and builds up community. Hence we perceived God as a helper and a comforter (Mt 20:28; Jn 10:11). For me the Church is truly alive in the village, not so much in ordinary situations, but in times of trial and suffering which can lead to a state of hopelessness. It is not a matter of explanation, but of living out the Gospel-call through our loving, supporting and caring action.

The God who gave us peace and joy before the death of Julius was the same God who comforted and helped us in this moment of grief. He accompanied us in various contexts in our journey of life. This fulfilled the promise of Jesus made in the gospel of Mathew: “…remember, I am with you always to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20).

It was dawn. Many wood fires were turning into ashes. Some people were sitting and few were sleeping near the fires. Others were still sitting on the verandas of the houses. Sounds of crying were still coming out from the room where the body was laid. Quite a number of women were crowded into the room. My mother and her brother went up to the house to go to the room to sing a traditional lament to the body of my cousin. The women who were sitting on the veranda gave way so that my mother and her brother could pass through into the crowded room. By now it was so crowded that some of the women left the room and went outside. My uncle took a Kundu drum and he began the song. A few others came and joined too.

The rooster was continuously crowing. The people knew soon it would be morning. The rays of the sun came up and shone into the sky in the East. The melody of the lament touched many of the people sitting on the veranda and the people outside the house. And some of them tears were flowing down their eyes and they were crying breaking the silence of the night. I asked, has “the steadfast love” of God “ceased forever” (Ps. 77:7) from us. A thought came to me. The love of God can not be prevented. Even though we are in the days of “trouble”, mourning and our spirit “faints” God’s love is always with us (Ps 77:2-3).

This scene brought to my attention about the death and the burial of Jesus (Mk 15:33-47). After the first Good Friday, the disciples of Jesus and his mother were most probably in a similar situation. The most affected one was Jesus’ mother since it is the nature of every loving mother to feel deeply the death of a son, especially in such a brutal way. The position of Mary is identified with my cousin’s adopted mother and father as well as many of us closely related to him. The adopted parents were weeping the whole night. Emil, the adopted father, my uncle, leaned against a side temporary post to which an edge of the canvas was tied. Both his eyes were swollen from crying. He also lost his voice. He was siting quietly and occasionally he said a word. But his memory was in the distant past to what he normally did with his son. Mary and John stood at the foot of the Cross witnessing the death of Jesus (Jn 19:26-27). They were probably in a similar situation recalling their relationship with Jesus and what he did and shared with them when he was alive.

The sudden death of Tarem brought the villagers, especially the elderly men, to question the cause of his death. Since evening I heard rumours. A few said that he died of an accident, others sorcery and many claimed that he died of sanguma. An uncle was stigmatised as a sanguma man. Before the accident, he received blames for a number of sanguma deaths in the village. The majority of the villagers concluded he was responsible for the death of Tarem. In the evening, when the body was brought up from the beach, he came up too to see the body of his nephew. He came up and walked into the house to see the body. However all his actions at the haus krai were carefully and secretly monitored by the elderly villagers. If he showed a sign of being responsible for the death he should be blamed. And he should be murdered. This was the general intention.

I raised another question. Supposing Jesus was one of the village men and he was accused of sorcery or sanguma, how would he approach his enemies? His message would be to love and forgive because the Lord is always good and his “steadfast love endures forever…” (Ps.117:1-2). Jesus would have some immediate relatives. Most likely his close relatives would support him and fight with the opposing party. In fact, this was the situation in the village after the burial. The village was divided into two groups. The next question is what would have been his personal approach to his relatives? His message would have been “love one another” (Jn 13:34) and forgive your enemies.

The morning came. The people from the other five coastal villages on the Island poured into the hamlet to mourn. Sun came up brightly in the morning, shone and made the place very hot. People were crowded on the verandas of the houses, under the canvas and shade trees near the two houses.

There was no priest, so I was asked in the morning to lead a funeral lotu service. I walked up again to the haus krai, organised the liturgy, sat beside my basket containing my white cassock and waited for the ending of the mourning. The sound of crying coming out from the house deeply touched me. I sat quietly among the other men under the blue canvas watching people moving slowly in and out of the room where the body was laid in the coffin. It was around lunch time the haus krai came to an end. The body was brought out of the house, people rose, gave way and the coffin was put under the canvas. The funeral service was conducted. After the service the body was brought from the haus krai to the cemetery. And it was laid to rest. To me, the death of my cousin was a great loss.

Despite the confusion and sorrow encompassing the village, I believe that God was present. The prophet Jeremiah feared the challenges associated with his mission. But Yahweh told him, “Do not be afraid…for I am with you to deliver you” (Jer. 1:8). The saving action of God was gradually unveiled in the whole context of the death of Tarem. It reached its climax in the liturgy of the death. In the liturgy, Christ was showing us explicitly that he is “the way, and the truth and the life” (Jn 14:6).

The incident occurred two years ago (2003) from now (2005). Reflecting back to the life of the village many of the past problems ceased and the village regains its ordinary happy and peaceful livelihood. Thus in God there is hope in times when “we walk through the darkest valley” (Ps 23:4) of our lives.  

Author

Calextus Manse (Diocesan Seminarian, Holy Spirit Seminary, Bomana, Wewak Diocese, St Martin’s Parish, Mushu Island, Bam Village)

Seed That Was Sown on the Hills and Coral Islands of Manus

Going from a Missionary Church

Sr Mary Kanatabu olsh

Have you ever seen a precious plant growing among  thorns and bushes?

 Or on a hot sandy beach?

Those of us who live along the coastal villages will agree that in our Melanesian environmental context we are most likely to see a coconut palm, or a sago palm or a betelnut tree. These would be either carried there by the tide or the birds of the air and are doing very well in spite of the difficulties of the environment.

Jesus teaches us the parable of the sower in the three Synoptics gospels, (Mark, Matthew, and Luke) . In this story Jesus teaches us about the seeds sown in different qualities of soil in the environment and surroundings. Some grew well, others did not do well depending on the type of soil the seed was sown in. ( Matt 13 V 7 )

That same seed Jesus was talking about was planted in Manus by the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart and the Daughters of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart almost 80 years ago. As one would read in the History books such as the “Mustard seed” and “Neither Saints nor Angels” that to be planting the seed for the first time was not very easy.

 It was to be a missionary church with the four parishes staffed by the German and American missionaries.

Like many other plants that we sow, that particular seed took a long time to take roots and to become strong. It was like a seed that was choked by the thorns of traditional beliefs and customs which were still fairly strong at the time. It took at least ten more years after the Missionaries came for the seed to take roots, grow strong and to begin to be a Melanesian Church

HOW DID THIS COME ABOUT?

For those of us who know Manus Island, it is made up of many little islands used to be called the Admiralty Islands. This group of islands was then divided  into the three main Centres.

The North Coast Islands were to have their base at Bundralis for the boys.  The South Coast area and nearby Islands were to have their base at Patu for the girls.  Then the more central place was for the senior classes from Grades 7 to 10 to come to Papitalai. was combined later both boys and girls.

It was in these centres that the basic instructions in the faith was grounded. Preparation for the Sacraments was done and many conversions to Christianity took place.

 For many years, instructions were given in those areas where the students came as boarders. Parents from  the outer islands brought their children, then they stayed in their given areas in the mission ground for sometime or until their children were settled or got over their homesickness. Then they would go back home.. This was truly seen as Christian communities being enriched by their human relationships and common commitment to Christ and his Church.

 This also applied to all the major feasts of the Church like Christmas and Easter Pentecost and other parish feast days like St Francis Xavier Bundralis, Christ the King Patu and St Joseph  Papitalai . The people would travel for days on foot or by canoes to join in the celebrations. The Churches were packed with people coming from everywhere. It was a clear sign of the church alive within their communities.

ROLE OF FAMILY AND MOTHER

Even though Manus is a  patrilineal society, the women have a lot of say in community activities. When I reflect on the society where Jesus came from I see a lot of similarities. While the Jewish leaders and elders sit down to discuss issues in a typical Jews society, similarly in Manus that also takes place.

 I see another classic example of this in the resurrection story where the women were the first to check Jesus’ tomb., ( Lk 24: 1 –11,). Of course straight away the eleven thought the women were talking nonsense. V 11.

This is a real challenge to a lot of women in Manus who  are confronted with  that kind  of attitude from the men. The women take the initiative and the lead in many activities .such as women Catechist, Legion of Mary, Prayers leaders, Communion ministers. This is where I feel the seed is being nurtured and  help to grow through the good mothers who tireless keep the faith going,

As the General Assembly stressed; “ We are Church, the people of God alive in Christ.”

HOW HAVE WE MOVED FROM MISSIONARY CHURCH to A MELANESIAN CHURCH ?

Following is my personal experience and reflection on the transition from Missionary to Melanesian Church.

I was invited out to one of the coastal villages for Corpus Christi. With only three to four priests on the whole entire Island it was impossible to have the Eucharistic celebration. Unlike the missionary church where they had enough priest to go around and the people would have had a chance to celebrate the Eucharist on a regular basis this was not going to be the case.

We all gathered in this little prayer house all full of enthusiasm about the feast. All dressed in their Sunday best . The place was decorated beautifully with rows of flowers on both sides of the path leading to the main entrance for the occasion. We were to have a small procession with two candles and a bible. The celebration started off very well .

 All the parts of the mass were sung with their best angelic voices in parts.

The celebration began with the entrance hymn followed by the rest of the mass proper.

  The Lord have mercy, Gloria,  Holy holy,  Eucharistic acclamation,  Lamb of God. Then the following  prayer was recited;   “ O Lord I am no worthy”  All the communion songs they knew in the “Yumi lotu” were sung The whole liturgy came alive and heart lifting and full of enthusiasm.

 It made the prayer of St Paul came  so much alive.

“We remember how you loved us to your death, and still we celebrate for you are WITH US here , and we BELIEVE that we will SEE you when you come.

Yes He was WITH US and  I went home that day feeling very satisfied .I was only used to seeing the Eucharist with the visible sign of bread and wine.

The people that day thought me another way of seeing the Eucharist as their communion with each other enriched by that common commitment to Christ and His Gospel and candle as a sign of light in our darkened world.

 The Church was truly alive.

The Missionary Church has become a Melanesian Church  today. All the expatriate priests have left and the whole island is taken care of by 5 Diocesan priests. Together with the catechists and Church leaders, the Legion of Mary, the prayer leaders, the youth who make the liturgy alive with their music and garamuts. This ia a challenge for the Melanesian Church to keep building the Church.

Another challenge I saw today as the people are going through a transition period is the reception of the Sacraments. A lot of the outer islands would go through all the customs of bride price payments but still have the sacrament or marriage ,baptism not carried out until two or three years or maybe more until a priest goes there.

I have been enriched by that experience of the transition period because it has broadened my mind to go beyond what has always been done as in a missionary church to something we can adopt  as OUR MELANESIAN CHURCH.

Sharing a Meal - Communion

Paula Kambu - Simbu

The Catholic Church in Papua New Guinea is for the most part less than one hundred years old. It is still traveling and struggling in terms of vocations to the priesthood and religious life, and how to effectively evangelize, particularly in the rural areas.  However, the church consists of people; in other words, the people are the church. The church, therefore, draws its strength to continue on the journey from the people who in turn draw their strength from each other, especially in sharing and building relationships with one another. 

The sharing of meals together, thus enhancing the building of relationships is evident in the Eucharistic celebration during Mass. This tradition of ‘sharing the word’ and ‘breaking the bread’ was instituted and handed down by Jesus Christ himself who is head of the church. At mass we not only celebrate being a community, but more importantly we are in communion with Jesus Christ. 

The story of the walk to Emmaus in Luke 24:13-35, explicitly shows the sharing of the word (Luke 24:27) and the breaking of the bread (24:30) where ‘the Word’ precedes ‘the Meal’.  Here, Jesus puts the two disciples’ fears at rest when he shares the word and breaks the bread, thus turning their fear and despair into hope and joy. This happened soon after his resurrection. However, before his death, he ‘instituted the Eucharist’ when he broke bread at ‘the Last Supper’ before his death (Mtt  26:26, Lk 22:19) basically to give his disciples strength and courage to stand firm in the events to come. 

We in the Church today do the same in our Eucharistic celebrations at Mass where we all come together sharing the word.  Then comes the culmination of the celebration: the breaking and sharing of the bread by the priest who represents Jesus Christ who is the head of the Church.  Furthermore, when we gather for the Eucharistic meal, we come together with our hearts and minds filled with cares. As we participate in the meal or celebration, like the two disciples, our burdens gradually become lighter, finally reaching that stage where our hearts are on fire urging us to witness that joy and revelation to others. 

I remember some years back when everything seemed to go wrong.  It was examination time for the grade 10 students I was teaching, and I was very anxious as it was my first year teaching. My parents also contributed to the anxiety. My personal life was also falling apart. Consequently my mind and heart were in turmoil. I couldn’t talk to anyone as there were few people I could trust to confide in.  I prayed but in vain. After a couple of Sundays I decided to go to church, however, my mind was not there in the chapel and I was really struggling to concentrate.  Then all of a sudden I was back in High School.  I thought of something a Sacred Heart sister told me then, “During the liturgy of the Eucharist, concentrate on the bread and wine offered, and offer yourself with all your anxieties. As the priest breaks the bread, pours the wine, and shares, pray for your offering to