November 20, 2007

Dear Friends,

In mid-November, I temporarily traded the smog and congestion of Jakarta for the much less-developed and idyllic island of Sulawesi in central Indonesia. Sulawesi was once known as Celebes, a spidery-shaped island of the Dutch East Indies, rich in spices and intriguing cultures.

Sulawesi has a population of 15 million people, 80 percent of whom are Muslim and 20 percent Christian. Sadly, over the past decade, there have been violent conflict between Christians and Muslims on parts of the island. In recent months, the tension has subsided significantly.

The Rev. Djendjengi, the Rev. Hengki, and Becca at disaster response workshop in Tentena, Sulawesi, November 13, 2007.

One of the denominations caught in the middle of the conflict is the Christian Church of Central Sulawesi, a Reformed denomination started by Dutch missionaries in the 1700s. As part of the healing process in the conflict’s aftermath, the synod leaders organized a disaster management training seminar for their pastors. They invited me to give the keynote speech on disaster theology.

I traveled by plane from Jakarta to the northeastern town of Palu. From there, we drove eight hours by car to scenic Lake Poso and the town of Tentena, where the synod’s offices are located. I was greeted warmly and given a luscious meal of fish from the lake, including the local specialty, eel, along with local vegetables and fruits and rice just harvested from local paddies.

The seminar had 60 participants out of the total of 700 pastors serving 600 congregations in the synod. The presbytery executives, I was told, are mostly women. During the conflict period, the local Muslim leadership was more likely to trust and cooperate with women than with men because the women were perceived as wiser and more dedicated to seeking peace than the men. So the synod intentionally appointed women to all presbytery executive positions. In addition, the animist religion that preceded Christianity and Islam in the area consisted entirely of women leaders, so the local population is quite accustomed to having women as spiritual leaders.

My presentation on disaster theology began with a discussion of how, in the act of creation, God parted the darkness and the chaos of the waters but did not eliminate them completely. They were relegated to the sidelines as God made a habitable domain for creation in between the waters. From this we see that God did not create the chaos that sometimes threatens our lives, but God also did not completely eliminate it. God does not will for chaos to harm us but wants us to stand safely on the solid ground that separates us from it. The chaos has no substance in and of itself, and therefore it poses no ultimate threat, as much as we might think so during the dark times of our lives. In Jesus Christ, God enacted a second creation, parting life from death through the resurrection and providing solid ground on the love of God in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. In Revelation 21:1, God promises that in the new heaven and earth, the sea will be no more—which means no more chaos, no more darkness and no more tears.

I admitted to my listeners that my remarks were not polished and represented a disaster theology in process. I welcomed their feedback. One of my first questioners asked which came first, God or the chaos. Realizing the seriousness of the question, I nevertheless quipped, “Well, I wasn’t there at the time so I don’t really know.” Fortunately the audience took it with good humor. I went on to say that obviously God was and is first and foremost. The chaos isn’t any “thing” in terms of having an existence on its own, and that is precisely the point: something that has no existence in and of itself can’t threaten us except temporarily. As Psalm 23 reminds us, we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, not the valley of death itself. The chaos is but a shadow.

I was impressed by the participants’ commitment to serving congregations in a situation with potential for further inter-religious violence, as well as increased natural disasters due to deforestation and global warming that are especially threatening to this island nation. Before I left, they presented me with a locally made headband that symbolized my acceptance into their ethnic group and the hope that I return again soon.

The next morning, I gave a lecture to the student body of the local seminary with a hundred students in attendance. I spoke about my personal faith journey, then told a little bit about the current situation of the PC(USA). Since they are also Reformed, I thought they would be interested in hearing about us a closely related denomination in a different context. I mentioned the difficulties we are having over homosexuality, and was barraged by questions about the theology behind the issue. I had to admit I wasn’t an expert on the topic, but their interest showed what a sensitive issue it has become here in Indonesia as well.

Becca with Hindu priest Sutini at Bali village, Sulawesi, November 13, 2007.

As a treat after my speeches, a man named Janus from the synod staff took me to see a local waterfall. On the way, we passed through an area that has been settled by Balinese people. They were painting a brand new temple. I asked to stop to take some pictures and ended up in a long conversation with the local Buddhist minister. He has lived there for over 20 years, having left Bali because of overcrowding and finding Sulawesi a fertile place to create a new life.

On this fascinating island in the middle of this diverse and remarkable country, I witnessed how different religions can get along, and also how they can heal from times when they don’t. Most importantly, I saw firsthand the God-given ability people have to adapt, to laugh, and to share, even in the most difficult of situations. The chaos, indeed, is only a shadow. God’s creation thrives on solid ground.