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September 29, 2008
Letter #3 from Ethiopia
Happy World Communion Sunday!
It’s a vision all Christians share, we think: the earth slowly turning in the unending sunlight streaming through the darkness, and the sunrise striking each arc of the earth in turn. Thatched churches by turquoise lagoons, slate-roofed churches beneath gleaming glaciers, churches whose corrugated metal roofs resound with drumbeats, churches whose ancient arches echo to medieval chants, churches whose bell towers rise above breathless cities, and churches whose white steeples pierce the colors of autumn woodlands: what a vision! All the families of God gathered around the million tables, and the one Family gathered around the one Table, accepting the invitation together, eating bread and sipping wine together, celebrating the incredible promise of life together.
But we fall short of the vision. Communion is hard. It requires us to stand next to people who differ from us, with different architecture and different music and different environments that have shaped their worship and their faith.
We were raised in a “mainline” Presbyterian church, one that taught us from the early grades of Sunday school that biblical history began with Abraham, and that the first 11 chapters of Genesis were important stories, revealing deep truths about the human condition, but not actual history. We were surprised when we found out that there were other Christians, conservatives, who believed differently. We confess that we looked down on them as naïve and ignorant.
We were adults attending a Bible study when we first came into contact with modern biblical scholars who wrote, based on Palestinian archeology, that King David was the first authenticated historical figure in the Bible, and that everything that came before was more-or-less legend. What? Toss out the cherished stories of Abraham and Sarah, of Isaac and Joseph, of Moses and the Exodus and the Ten Commandments? No! For the first time, we felt true compassion for our conservative brothers and sisters; this was how they felt when they listened to us! We came to realize that the church’s ongoing conflicts are not an “us versus them” situation, but that there are many “uses” and many “thems.” To claim that our particular, comfortably familiar stance is the unique and absolute truth, we would have to defend it not only from all the “thems” but from all the other “uses” as well!
We have witnessed a parallel situation here in Addis Ababa, which we offer as a similar experience on the conservative side of the spectrum. The grounds of Orthodox churches are surrounded by tall walls with ornate metal gates, and during services, there is typically a crowd, mostly women with white shawls covering their heads, standing outside the gates. When we asked why they were not inside for the worship service, it was explained that they were unclean. They were not allowed to come inside the gates because they would defile the purity of the sanctuary. Some of them were menstruating and some had recently given birth, while the few men present were ceremonially unclean because of contact with the women. The deeply conservative Orthodox Church is concerned with purity and biblical authority, but they differ from American conservatives as thoroughly as deeply liberal archeologists differ from us.
It seems to us that none of our familiar, comfortable doctrines are defensible in the bright grace of free light falling, and that all of our divisive creeds cause us to fall short of the vision. Let’s refrain from judging each other and walk together, humbly, with our God.
Here in Addis Ababa, New Year’s Eve was September 10. Ato Teferri, our principal, drove us around the city. Thousands of sheep were for sale, for sheep are as important to an Ethiopian New Year as turkey is to an American Thanksgiving. But then the buyers had to get the sheep home. Bleating, panicky sheep were tied down on taxi roofs while others, standing tethered on car rooftops, calmly surveyed the crowd as the cars slowly honked their way through the jammed streets. People pulled sheep by ropes around their necks, by their horns, or by their front legs, while others picked up the back legs and steered their sheep like a wheelbarrow race. The smoggy city was dense with the wood smoke of cooking fires, but we still caught the occasional smell of sweet grass and flowers, sold to scatter on the floor for the coffee ceremonies that would take place in every home.
Ato Teferri hosted us in his home for the feast and politely looked the other way as we clumsily dropped bits of meat pinched with bread in our fingers. His wife Margie hosted the coffee ceremony. She waved the freshly roasted beans under our noses, retreated to the kitchen to grind them, and then carefully poured the fragrant coffee into tiny cups. Ato Teferri explained that, of all holidays, this night was the most cherished by children: the excitement of bringing the sheep home, the treat of staying up late for the huge feast, and new clothes for the coming school year, which begins the following Monday.
Opening Day at Bethel Mekane Yesus (“the dwelling place of Jesus”) Girls’ School was wild with color and noise. It was great to see the hibernating campus come alive with 1,200 students, from worried kindergarteners, clutching their mothers with one hand and their new pencils in the other, all the way up to serene and confident seniors. The older girls wear light-blue sweaters, white blouses, and black skirts, while the elementary students wear bright red sweaters and white blouses with blue jumpers. The school year began with prayer, the singing of the national anthem as the flag was raised, and speeches reporting the spectacular success of last year’s national exams: 100% of the 141 seniors passed! Lora and I were introduced and gave short talks, and then the students went to their newly assigned classes to meet their teachers.
Bethel Mekane Yesus School was founded in 1923 by the Women’s General Missionary Society of the United Presbyterian Church of North America. It was originally known as the American Mission Girls’ School, but through several name changes, wars, and national upheavals, has never lost its identity or purpose. Lora and I have been welcomed as the latest links in the long partnership with U.S. Presbyterians. We look forward to sharing stories of the great work that God is doing here and in inviting you to join in prayer for the success of the latest efforts to update the school so that it can continue to empower young women to “shoulder responsibilities at different levels both locally and nationally,” as Ato Teferri says.
We need to shoulder our responsibilities, too: locally, nationally, and around the big, circling earth as well. Not all of our holidays include sheep meat eaten with fingers and grass on the floor, not all of our prayers sound the same. We’re different. But let’s not let our differences blind us to our true relationship: we are sisters and brothers, invited to stand next to each other at the same table. It will take work. Let’s start now, while the sun is bright.
Happy World Communion Sunday!
Love and peace,
Bruce and Lora Whearty
P.S. We expect a series of photos, including some from Opening Day, to be posted to our Web page within the next couple of weeks. Please view them from a link on our home page. Thanks!
We love to receive email, but because of our slow internet connection, please do not send us photos, attachments, e-greeting cards or blog links. If you reply to one of our emails, please delete our original letter so that it is not returned to us. Thanks.
The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer &
Study, p. 223 |
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