Samuel Kobia reminded us that God calls us to a ministry of reconciliation. Last month's newsletter had an article in it about two Presbyterian accompaniers in Columbia. One is Kelly Wesselink. I just learned that our own Naomi Kulog knows her. Naomi met Kelly at the last young Adult Volunteer retreat in Indiana.
An accompanier is a person who is trained, and goes to a troubled region of the world to assist local church workers, especially those who are doing controversial work like assisting destitute families. The presence of internationals often red uces violence and harassment since abuses will be reported through the church's worldwide networks and major human rights organizations. Accompaniment was the strategy churches used to protect Central Americans in the 1980s. Eyewitness accounts of the wars there helped change U.S. policy in the region.
Today, more than three million Colombians have been forced off their land and are struggling to survive in shantytowns on the edges of the country's already financially strapped cities, including Barranquilla, ... These slums are often targeted for terror by Colombia's illegal armed groups since its unemployed residents are viewed as easy recruits for gunmen by left-wing guerrillas and rightist paramilitaries. A lawyer who works with the Presbyterian Church in Columbia has been detained and jailed.
Kelly has been in Barranquilla for a month now. She said in an interview,
“I feel that the Columbian people are ready for change. Violence, poverty, unemployment, corruption and displacement have all affected so many in this country and they are tangible symptoms of these difficult times. Everywhere we go, we hear the solutions to these problems--Education. Political change. Rural development. Faith. But my main concern is not with finding a solution to these problems myself. As an accompanier, that is not why I'm here. My concern is that the church, our brothers and sisters in Christ, and others who are working for the poor, those who have the capacity and the knowled ge to find peaceful solutions to these problems must do so in the face of threats, violence, and injustice.
Generally I feel comfortable and safe here. Granted, my everyday life in Barranquilla is not directly affected by the conflict. It is the impact that it has had on our brothers and sisters that moves me. And the situation of the Presbyterian church is getting worse. We see it in the detainment of human rights defenders like Guillermo and we see it in the worried faces of all those working for peace, justice, and human rights. It is essential that the Presbyterian Church USA continue the important work of accompaniment. We must continue to let our brothers and sisters here in Columbia know that we care for them and will be at their sides during these difficult times. God is calling us to act, to be in solidarity with Columbians, to accompany them as they struggle for change, and to proclaim the gospel of nonviolence and of peace in our churches and in our communities as our Columbian brothers and sisters are struggling to do the same in their own country.” (1)
Kelly e-mailed Naomi last week and wrote, “Everything is going well here in Columbia , though times are difficult and as you may know …another leader was detained last week. It has many people on edge and nervous. But we are safe and it is evident that this is a necessary program.”
The Presbyterian Church is not alone in sending accompaniers out. This month, the World Council of Churches sent a group of group of 15 people from five countries to Israel and Palestine. They are ecumenical accompaniers.
The people in this group of 15 came from Germany, Sweden, Norway, Switzerland and Britain. They were selected by their church groups to take part in the program. The ecumenical accompaniers will spend the next three months working with Palestinian communities as well as Israeli organizations sympathetic to the plight of Palestinians. They will get a deep understanding of the situation and when they go back they have credibility and are able to offer a unique perspective.
One British member of the group is a Jewish woman. The Lutheran bishop, Munib Younan, who greeted the group said he was particularly pleased to have “a Jewish participant in the EAPPI who joins in the human chain working for peace and justice in the Holy Land .”
The Jewish volunteer would be living among Palestinians in the village of Younen , where there is a permanent international presence to protect residents from attacks by militant Jewish settlers.
“She will live in the village, be with the people and help with things like the sheep herding…. Other volunteers would be working with the Christian communities in Bethlehem, Ramallah and Nablus as well as in Palestinian refugee camps in the cities. (2) Not all of us have the skills to do such brave peacemaking work as be an accompanier for church workers in foreign countries. But we can be peacemakers where we are. Here is a story from a pastor named Charles Summers. (Luke, our worship leader, read Bodad's part during this story.)
His mama named him Bodacious Ali Davis. I met him when he was about ten years old. He was neither the youngest nor the oldest in his family; he was not the smartest or the dumbest; not the biggest or the smallest. But all his teachers claimed he was the most obnoxious student they had ever taught.
Bodacious would never do his homework, even though he could have. He liked to belch when the teacher was trying to make an important point. When he got bored, which was often, he would make a trip to the pencil sharpener. On the way he would knock someone's book on the floor with a great “whap,” and he always seemed to find a toe to step on. Bodad knew the timeout corner intimately, and he spent more time at the principal's office than the principal did. Maybe that was why the other children called him “Bodad the Bad.” Or maybe it was because of his initials: B.A.D.
I first got to know Bodad when he was in fifth grade. I was a Sunday school teacher and he used to come to programs at our church. We were not sure why he came. Maybe he was bored or curious, or just looking for trouble. Though the Bible says “suffer the children,” Bodad was more than most of us wanted to suffer while we were teaching a class or organizing a game. That child could ruin a Bible lesson on love in two minutes flat. I have seen 45-year-old bona fide saints of the church reduced to screaming maniacs by Bodad.
I remember the time he started a food fight at a church supper. I can still see Mrs. Jones with butter beans stuck to her dress dragging Bodad out by his ear. He yelled , “I ain't never coming back here.” More than one of us prayed , “Lord, let it be so.” But the next Sunday, Bodad was back again. No matter what happened, he always came back.
It was Christmas of last year when I first got a clue about Bodad's strange loyalty to our church. For several weeks we had been lighting Advent candles and telling the stories of shepherds and angels and wise men. All the children knew these by heart and were pretty bored by it all. But they liked drawing pictures of stables and camels and stars.
I noticed that Bodad had drawn a picture. It showed a crude stable with a star overhead, some odd figures standing around the manger, and way over to one side was a stick figure, standing alone. I said in my most affirming teacher's voice, “Well, Bodacious, what a fine picture. But who is this over on the side?”
He shrugged and answered , “Nobody. Nobody important. The angels didn't invite him but he came anyway. He didn't want to be left out.”
The next week we organized a trip for our children for homeless families. Our plan was to host a little Christmas party for the children there. Just as we were leaving, Bodad showed up to go along. Two adult volunteers tried to quit on the spot, but I would not let them off the bus.
The shelter was in the basement of a big downtown church. There was a large central room, with chairs, a table and a Christmas tree. And in the side rooms, which used to be Sunday school classes, were cots and suitcases, and clothes hanging on chairs. There were in the shelter that day about a dozen children of different ages, sizes and colors.
As we organized games, sang carols and served refreshments, one child would not join in. He was a dark skinned boy with a short fade haircut, and he wore high-top basketball shoes with the laces untied. He was maybe nine years old. He sat by himself next to the wall near the door to one of the rooms. He sat like a rabbit who was watching carefully, prepared to run back into his hold at any moment. We tried to get him to join us in the games, but he refused. We offered him refreshments, but he shook his head no.
As the evening progressed, I noticed that Bodad wandered by the solitary boy several times. He spoke to him but got no response. After a while, Bodad pulled a chair over to the wall; not too near but not too far from the other boy. The two of them sat watching the party like lifeguards at the city pool. I edged around the room to a place where I could hear them, without their noticing me, just in case the shelter boy needed protection.
After a while the child from the shelter spoke. “Who are these fools, anyway?”
“They church people,” answered Bodad. “They ain't too bad, once you get used to ‘em. They talk a lot about God ‘n' Jesus ‘n' stuff. But they serve good food, and they don't hit you when you're bad.”
“How come they over here botherin' us? Can't they find enough kids in they own ‘hood to pester? Just ‘cause we don't have no place to live don't mean we need them!”
Bodad looked my way, as I busily straightened punch cups on the table. “Oh, I guess it has something to do with Jesus. See, this Jesus, he didn't have no place to live either. When he was born his folks was staying in a barn or somethin'. I guess it was a kinda shelter. And folks came to visit him, and they brought stuff.”
“What kinda stuff?” asked the child.
“Oh, you know, the usual, I guess. Cokes, cookies, and somethin' called frankincense and myrrh.”
“What's that?”
“I dunno. Probably somethin' to eat.”
“Why'd they do it?”
“Well, like, they didn't want Jesus to feel forgotten. I guess they was sorry he was born in a barn. And they wanted to show him they liked him. That he was OK even if he was poor. It was kinda a welcome party. See, Jesus and his mama didn't know anybody in this strange town. It was… Baltimore. So all these guys and folk went to see him, just to show they liked him. They didn't want Jesus to be lonely.”
The two of them sat for a while in silence, just watching everyone else. Then without a word, Bodad got up and went to the refreshment table. He filled two plates with chips, cookies and candy. He went back to his chair. Without a word he handed one to the other child and then sat down. I could have dropped my teeth. I had never seen Bodad give anything to anybody else, except elbows and knuckles.
The party drew to a close. When we were singing “Silent Night,” someone let out a great belch. (Luke burped loudly into the microphone at this point during the service, much to his mother's chagrin.) I did not have to turn around to see who it was. But as we were leaving, and all the children in the shelter were saying “Thanks, Merry Christmas,” Bodad got up from his chair, stopped in front of the other child, and held up his hand. They traded a high five, then Bodad headed for the door.
I heard the shelter kid say to his brother, “See that guy over there? The one stepping on that girl's toes? He ba-a-a-d. I hope he comes back.”
From that night on, my feelings about Bodad were different. Not everyone in this world has to join in the center of the circle. Some folks just hang around the edge, not getting too close, but not staying too far away, either. And they are watching all the time. And even if they feel overlooked by the angels, the starlight still shines on them. Surely the babe who could find no room at the inn has a warm place in his heart for those who live on the fringe. And I am certain that he has room in his barn for Bodad the Bad. (3)
World Council of Churches Christmas message
I bring you greetings from the World Council of Churches. Samuel Kobia, General Secretary sends this message to the churches of the world from Geneva:
The good news of Christmas shines forth upon the world like the summer sun in the southern hemisphere, like a sparkling star in the wintry northern sky.
It shines brightly as “good news of great joy” in a world that surrounds us with disturbing news. It renews our faith in the promise of peace on earth, and calls us once again to praise God whose glory extends to the highest heavens.
For centuries, the hope of peace inherent in Christmas has been a central affirmation of the church's faith. Each time that we celebrate the birth of Christ, we commit ourselves to live out this hope.
We celebrate the hope of Christmas as the promise of peace. We recall the birth of Jesus who came to us as a child threatened by violence, as a refugee whose family fled due to the ambitions of the powerful. In this season, in this world, we offer our thanks and praise to God for the hope we have in Jesus Christ, for the gift of God's love revealed in human vulnerability.
The good news of Christ's coming and dwelling among us is a source of illumination in this world, for through his life and teachings he has shown us the way that leads to peace. Jesus said, “My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”
This world gives us walls dividing peoples, security strategies, repressive laws and pre-emptive wars. Jesus calls us to discover responsible ways of living in unity as human beings. Jesus Christ has given us the great commandment to love and calls us to overcome the spirit of vengeance, hatred and rivalry; he teaches us to pray for our enemies.
Jesus has instructed us not to pursue our own interests at the expense of others, not to be envious when the disempowered are re-empowered , not to obstruct justice when those who have been deprived are restored . He has called us to discern the face of God in the neglected and abandoned . He calls us daily to lives of obed ience, through our faith and in our actions.
We in the World Council of Churches have chosen to live together in the light of Christ, the light that shines in spite of darkness, the light that defies the encircling gloom. We celebrate the hope of peace despite continuing conflicts, despite fear and suspicion, hatred and warfare, abuse and greed .
Our world is pervaded by cultures of violence that exclude, subjugate, terrify and violate those who are identified by their persecutors as “different.” It is alarming that many who engage in this behavior attempt to justify themselves in the name of “God.”
As we proclaim the birth of Jesus, the Prince of Peace, we celebrate the hopes of 100 children at La Tablada Disciples of Christ Community Center in Buenos Aires, Argentina, which I visited in November. Together with 15 young people, also from the slums and broken homes, the lives of those children are being transformed at the centre, whose ministry is inspired by the love of Christ.
Elsewhere in the world, the reality of Buenos Aires and La Tablada is duplicated many times over. We pray that God's light may shine on people in difficult situations, helping them to identify forms of resistance that promote positive change.
We celebrate endeavors of cooperation and support among the afflicted , interfaith initiatives for peace and harmony, people's movements for peace and justice — and, in all these, we recognize yearnings for a better world.
Amid this world's divisions and destruction, the good news of Christmas reminds us that God reaches out in love and calls us to a ministry of reconciliation “in him was life, and the life was the light of all people
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (4)
(1) Smith, Alexa. “Church-related worker accused of FARC ties; Columbian church demands fair investigation,” PCUSA News, December 8, 2004, 04537.
(2) Green, Michele. “Jewish woman joins Israel/Palestine accompaniers” Ecumenical News International, reported in PCUSA News 04544 , December 14, 2004.
(3) Summers, Charles A. “Bodad the Bad,” Christian Ministry, Nov./Dec. 1993, p. 8-9. When I asked the Rev. Summers for permission to print this, he wrote “Certainly you may use the story. I am delighted you are going to use it. It is a favorite of mine. Bodad is a mix of several young men I knew in a church a while back. There is also some of me in there (I was not very well behaved at Sunday School either).”
(4) Kobia, Samuel, General Secretary World Council of Churches. “Good news of great joy…” 2004 Christmas message.
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First Presbyterian Church