A laborer of God

Ben and Clement talking after sharing a meal. In Papua New Guinea, relationships are very important. Photo by Dan Bauman.

Clement related this story to Ben, who transcribed it and Jessie Wright translated it.

Clement uses relationships to share about his work in the Bible translation movement…

When I was living in my village and I didn’t know about the work of Bible translation, there were many things in the Bible that I didn’t understand. True, I would regularly go to church, but I didn’t – like the words that the church leaders would read – I would hear them, but as for myself, I didn’t know about some things like Bible backgrounds, or what messages may have missed the point, or what the meaning of the words was like.

When I came and learned how to do the work of Bible translation, I learned many things. Before I didn’t know about them.  For example, the Tok Pisin Bible too, it doesn’t explain it well, or many things remain hidden.  So when I came to do Bible translation, I did much research, so it was like, okay, many things helped me and I understood. Now I understood about God.

When I would go back to my village, I would tell my family,

“God is the source of all things, and when we ourselves see things clearly with the Bible, we need to sit down patiently and read the Bible carefully, and we will understand now how God works in our lives.”

It’s like this: when I went to work with the others in the work of Bible translation, I understood many things. God worked. And I learned many things where the Tok Pisin Bible doesn’t follow the original Greek. The Greek language was the first language – and Hebrew – that they translated into Latin, and later into English, and later they translated it into the Tok Pisin language. And then we come up to the time now where we are translating it into our own specific language so that we can understand the meaning of the words.

So as far as I myself am concerned, I have now come to know many good things that I learned. After I learned these things and then I was back in my village, many men would come up and say to me,

“Come, let’s go do this other work, so forget about it, and leave this work of SIL.”

But I would tell them,

“No, I’m not concerned with whatever other work, I am doing the work of God. I have become” – I would use a certain kind of talk that I like to say – “I have become a laborer of God.”

I don’t want to labor for another man. I want to labor for God, and it’s like this: I live at my village, the work of God is what I do, so he helps me. If I feel there is a thing that I find difficult, then the Word of God helps me, and now I see that I have learned many good things. I am happy about this.

Wailing, beards, and lost for words at a funeral

This post is yet more “confessions of a missionary wife.” It’s going to be difficult to write.

You may have seen the post I wrote about David Emil’s passing here: http://livingletters.wordpress.com/2011/12/26/he-gives-and-takes-away/

When we were in the village we walked to the Emil family’s house to cry and grieve with them. A death in the family means that several cultural things take place: close friends and family come stay to mourn together. It is the responsibility of the grieving family to provide food for anyone who comes to mourn. This can be a financial hardship. The visitors can stay for weeks, even months. The men grow out their beards, a physical example of their grief and pain. When their initial grieving is over, they shave their facial hair.

Ben has the ability to mourn the way a Papua New Guinean does. When we entered the courtyard, he began wailing loudly. I had quietly explained to our children that this was going to happen, so they were not scared. I stayed back and held our two year old twins, and cried softly. As soon as Ben started crying, the mother and grandmother of the boy began wailing as well. The father stood quietly until I gave him a plastic covered picture of his boy. He started crying loudly then too. Ben came over and they held each other for a while.

Even though we’ve been in PNG since 2002, I still feel like a foreigner in situations like these. In my culture grief is a private matter. I am always concerned that I won’t know what to say to someone who has lost a loved one. However, in PNG, crying loudly with the family and being there says that you are walking with them through their pain.

As we walked the 45 minutes home, I felt anguish for Emil’s family and the loss of a beloved son. I told my kids that it was okay to feel sad for our friends because we love them. Ben went later on with the translators for a memorial service where a big feast was held after the grave had been decorated according to their custom.

Today I wrote an e-mail to Emil with these verses:

1Thessalonians 4:13-18

¹³ And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. ¹⁴ For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died.

¹⁵ We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died.¹⁶ For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. ¹⁷ Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. ¹⁸ So encourage each other with these words.

So often I get caught up in the mundane of the here and now and forget that one day the Lord will return! That last verse “encourage each other with these words” made me think how little time I spend encouraging others with the hope of Christ’s return. There will be no more pain, suffering and grief.

“Today, Jesus is an Onnele Man!” Part 1

 If you have been on our e-mail list, you will know that we left for the village at the beginning of September. We were uncertain if the airstrip would be cut and how it would go for Josiah in a children’s home for 1 week without us. In short, the grass was being cut as we were landing and Josiah had a great time in the hostel. I will try to fill in some of the other details later, but I thought I’d start with one of the highlights of this village stay. One of the languages we work with, Wolwale Onnele, didn’t have a Luke dedication yet. Our teammates Jessie and Beth attended six other dedications in June, while Ben was here in Ukarumpa helping teach a translator’s software (Paratext) course. We spent last weekend celebrating this milestone for the Wolwale people. A Ramu translator, Vincent, spoke the words, “Today, Jesus is an Onnele Man!” during his speech–I thought it was very fitting for this post, as the book of Luke is the first large Scripture portion that they have ever had in their language.

When our car pulled up, people were waiting for us to join the celebration.

The first item on the agenda was to decorate all the visitors. Ben is pictured here with Jacob on his back.

The dancers led us to a grandstand, where the digitaries would give speeches. My feet didn't work as well as these ladies but they didn't mind me trying to learn the steps!

Special people were chosen to perform a traditional sing sing.

It was emotionally moving when the dancers came in carrying the book of Luke and my literacy materials.

The local level government leader gave one of the first speeches.Two of my literacy teachers, Gibson and Linda, led a time of worship.

Our five kids were good sports during the four hour ceremony. Eventually we took the twins away from the grandstand because they were too distracting.

Babies!

One of the things I love about the Arop people is that they treasure young children. Babies are often carried in slings and looked after tenderly…it is not uncommon to see a daddy holding his little baby while her mother is off fishing (during the day) or preparing their meal (in the evening).  Often other children, barely three or four years old will help care for a younger sibling.  Community living means that a baby belongs to everyone, and everyone steps in to help look after her.

As a family, we’ve enjoyed watching the Arop people welcome our children into their lives.  If one of my kids is out of line (ie Noah playing too close to the fire or harassing chickens, for instance—real examples!) someone will let him know. Our babies know they are adored and often call out to passers-by (from the porch) to take them for a walk. It is not unusual to see someone stopping by to talk to them, too, as if there is all the time in the world to make my children happy.