A Meeting Among the Thorns

(Continued from "Dead Mice and Mud Fights")


Photos by Matt Parks

Sunday morning arrived, and with it a breakfast of sticky oatmeal, peanut butter, bread, and powdered milk.  It lacked the salty deliciousness of the previous days bacon and eggs, but it was fuel.  There was an excited nervousness in the dining hall, as we were about to attend the Haitian church service.  It would be our first encounter with the people of Chambrun, the people we specifically came to serve. 

The walk to the church was maybe 200 yards, but it felt like miles.  Our pace was that of a saunter, slow and restrained.  It was like we wanted to get there, but no one wanted to be first.  Who could blame us?  What if we sat in the wrong seat?  What if we didn’t know how to act?  What if the pastor called on us to recite Leviticus 14 while blindfolded and standing on one leg?  None of us know what to expect, but ready or not, we were going to be there.

People stood around the entrance and chatted, as is common on Sunday mornings.  Kids ran and played as adults caught up on the news of the week.  Inside there wasn’t much light, only that which was allowed through windows.  Ceiling fans mixed the thick, humid air as if it were cookie dough.  I looked at the people, wanting to see their faces, but trying not to stare.  They did the same.  Attempting to mask my feelings of awkwardness, I straightened my back, held my chin high, and walked in as I if I had been there 100 times before.  I wasn’t fooling anyone.  I may have appeared confident, but I felt like I just walked in with a flamingo on my head.  

Sweat poured from my brow as I struggled to find comfort on a bench that was sized for a child.  A couple of our students were on my left, and some Haitian children on my right.  The children next to me were all boys and behaved as boys often do in church.  They wrestled and hit each other and carried on like they were out on the playground.  I put up with this for a minute or two before shooting them a disapproving smile, to which they paused and sheepishly smiled back.  Ten seconds later, they were at it again.  Their behavior was a bit annoying, but I couldn't blame them.  I acted the same way when I was their age.  

The music was loud and charismatic.  The tunes were familiar, but the lyrics were sung in Creole.  I did my best to pronounce them, as they were displayed on the screen.  Even though I didn’t understand, I still wanted to engage and be a part of the service.  I raised my hands when others raised theirs and danced when they danced.  After the music, Pastor Pierre stood before us and delivered a message with the passion and intensity of Vince Lombardi.  I listened intently, wanting to understand, wanting to believe.  

A few times he translated his words to English, which made me feel welcomed.  He said something to the effect of, “You could be anywhere in the world right now.  You could be surrounded by large buildings and highways.  Instead, you are here with us in Haiti, surrounded by thorn bushes.  God has intended for you to be here on this day.  He has given you purpose.  He has given all of us a purpose.”  

I appreciated his words.  My feelings of awkwardness turned to comfort, and I began to feel like I belonged in that place.  I never imagined I would be listening to a Haitian pastor speak into my life in a small village in Haiti.  Comfort turned to excitement as Pastor finished his message and invited our team to bring a piece of our culture to the service.  

Our student drama team had prepared skits for the trip, and for this occasion they performed the “Everything Drama.”  It’s more of a ballet then a skit, and is performed to the song “Everything” by Lifehouse.  The story begins with a young girl interacting with a character dressed in light colors, who represents Jesus.  He is showing the girl all the beautiful things in the world like flowers, birds, trees, and love.  She is smiling and joyful and totally at peace.  

As they performed, I watched the faces of the audience more then the drama itself.  I wanted to see their reactions and if they understood what was going on.  At first they seemed a little confused by it all.  A few people pointed and giggled as if saying, “What are these crazy kids up to?”

The scene quickly grows dark as she is pulled away from the Jesus figure by a series of characters dressed in black.  These figures represent the bad influences in life.  It goes from a guy dancing with her and leaving, to someone throwing cash at her feet and pushing her down, to drinking and partying, to someone making her throw up because she isn’t skinny enough, to cutting, to her pointing a gun at her head.  

By now, the mood in the church had changed.  It went from “look at the silly kids,” to “wow this is serious.”  I could see their concern, their worry.  No one needed to understand the words to the song to know what was going on.  It was life portrayed at it’s worst.  Our students were connecting with the people in a very real way.  I could see the look of struggle on their faces, and on ours.  Despite color or nationality, her expressions of hurt, pain, hopelessness resonated with just about everyone in the room.  

In desperation, she tires to get back to the light character, but the dark characters continuously push her away.

Just when it appears that the dark forces will keep her down forever, the light character breaks in and holds back the evil.  They push against him, clawing at the girl, but he  doesn’t let them through.  With a mighty push, the Jesus character bowls back evil and knocks them to the ground.

At that, the crowd lifted up a thunderous cheer!  We all clapped and yelled as good had triumphed over evil, and the girl was rescued.  The drama ends by the two dancing and the walking out hand in hand.  

Electricity flowed from person to person and resonated throughout the building.  In that moment we were united as one people under the Cross.  It’s amazing how the story of redemption it written into all of our lives.  How did it get there?  How do we know to cheer for the good guys?  Maybe because we have all been beaten down and are all in need of rescue.  Maybe we all need someone to stand up and fight for us.  That is Christ's mission: To heal the broken hearted and proclaim freedom for the captives  (Isaiah 61:1).

Our students did such a good job.  Their performance was so moving that they literally brought Christ's message to life.  I believe God was truly among us in that place, and we knew it.  For that moment, all of us, there as witnesses, were unified under one spirit.  It was one of the most powerful experiences of my life.

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