Harvest Thanksgiving

I have long taken encouragement from the fact that my work is to be a worker in God's vineyard, but to leave the responsibility for the harvest to God. If I am faithful in my work, God will do the rest.

When I was a university student, I spent several summer holidays working in a vineyard. A member of our congregation was gracious in giving me work when I knew nothing about vineyards, but he knew that I needed the cash. We'd work 6am to 2pm in an attempt to beat the heat of the day as we slowly walked up and down the rows of vines, pausing every two metres to tend to the next vine. Sometimes we were training new vines, other times thinning out crowded fruit on older vines. Some of the vines were years away from a harvest, others had been producing long enough that their fruit had already been turned to wine. The path from training a young vine to a glass of red with dinner is a theory to me and not something I should be put in charge of, just as I should not try to put myself in charge of God's harvest.

There are many times when this image of being workers in God's vineyard helps to keep me trudging forwards in the heat of the day. Repetitive tasks, seemingly pointless tasks, tasks that are years away from the actual harvest and the eventual celebratory drink are all still critical. I may not understand their part in the big picture, but I trust that they matter.

While I loved my previous work at sea, in terms of how it related to the mission of God, it was drudge work in God's vineyard. I was there as a sailor who happened to be Christian, yet like all Christians, from the moment I woke in the morning; I was in the mission field of the world. I see my mission then as weeding and soil preparation. By living and working alongside colleagues who became friends, I was weeding out their misconceptions and wrong beliefs about Christianity. By not being a judgemental Bible basher, I was helping to overcome that sadly common prejudice against Christians. By living my faith, I was showing that following Jesus is more than a set of rules. I did not see a harvest, but I trust that I was a living light for God.

These days, while still having plenty of drudge work to do, I am blessed to be part of the harvest. Others have worked in the area before me, and this has resulted in people of strong faith committed to God's word in their language, for their community. Many years and much work have gone in, and I am privileged to be the one who comes in and gets to be part of the harvest. I do not take the credit; that goes to the Chief Gardner, but I do give thanks for being able to see fruit. At the same time, the vineyard always needs tending, lest it go back to weeds. While there is a harvest going on, weeding, fertilising, trimming and training still need to happen; else this harvest will only be for one season.

To those of you who are feeling the heat of the sun in God's garden and wondering how such dry and rocky soil could ever bear a harvest, have faith in the Chief Gardner. There is a plan that we don't know about and that we are not responsible for. We are called to do our part, in the time and place we are in, with the people we have been given as neighbours.

Fallen

When I studied art history in grade 12 we learnt about art representing the "noble savage." This phrase in art represented the early days of white settlement in Australia, when the indigenous people were represented in a noble way. They were depicted as upright and pure, living a perfect culture.

As the colony progressed conflicts with the traditional land owners arose and the debilitating effects of alcohol struck the first nation people, the art changed. We were taught to call this next art phase the "colonial clown." Now the indigenous people were depicted as fools, drunks and trouble makers.

This change in art is about the change in perceptions, not about the actual nature of the indigenous people. That said, they were indeed undergoing rapid and dramatic change brought by the arrival of a European colony on their doorstep, with many tragic consequences.

While prejudices have come and gone over the years, I am surprised at how often the idea of the "noble savage" lives on in popular imagination. There is an ideal that before one nation encounters another nation and therefore changes, that they live an ideal life. Together with this is the criticism that to work alongside indigenous people is to ruin their culture.

I would like to call this out for the falsehood it is. All people, in all places and all times are fallen and in need of salvation. No nation, tribe or language is exempt from this, but all are offered salvation in Christ.

Examples of how this falsehood impacts my work are from the assumptions I have encountered along the way. I have been asked if the family unit continues to be the basis of a strong community or if modern life has ruined this. I responded that multiple wives and the tensions that causes are part of the traditional way in some places, and continue to cause conflict in some places.

I have been judged by shop attendants and hair dressers who want to know why I work in PNG, with the implied accusation that I am a force for destruction of culture. I respond that I am there at the invitation of the community, helping them with their own goals in their own language. They are the catalyst for change; I am assisting them in their work. A culture that does not respond to a changing world with change will stagnate. A culture which is pro-active in driving how it changes is more likely to flourish.

All change is a mixed bag. There are good things and bad things that come from the meeting of cultures. No one culture has all the answers, but all have some of the answers, which is why we can and should always be learning from each other.

Strong Language

During a recent village stay the local member of parliament came to visit. The Member, as he is generally referred to, is a Kope man, although the electorate covers a much larger area. He was visiting villages all over the area, giving out work contracts to the community and listening to community feedback on various needs and issues. He was rather surprised to find two expats living in the village, but pleased to hear about our work.

I was impressed that for a man who has spent many years in Port Moresby, he was still very comfortable communicating in Kope. The English he mixed in was for things that Kope does not have straightforward terms for, such as 'contract' and 'parliament'. Except for these introduced terms, he used Kope. This was an encouragement to me, as it showed how strong the Kope language is. Not only do children in the village learn it and use it every day, but town folk continue to keep it strong as well.

I was also reminded of the numerous successful people from our tribe who have gone on to further study and employment, but who keep ties with home. The Member is one example, there is also the Policeman, who is a bodyguard to the Prime Minister and has travelled more of the world than me. Not only am I not the most travelled from my tribe, I am not the highest educated. There is a man who has retired back to my village after years in government work who holds an MA from an Australian university. There are probably more examples that I don't know of.

On the days when I am frustrated with village work, these well spoken and successful men are an encouragement to me. Their life story reminds me of what the people around me can achieve when given the opportunity, and to keep working away at helping people have these opportunities to thrive in faith and in life.