Solomon Islands Blog, part 2...

Crazy things happen when you spend about 30 hours on various airplanes to get somewhere...Aside from the swollen ankles, conversations with complete strangers, and a readiness to eat food that you’d normally spurn,  that is...You can usually expect something to go very wrong with a team of multiple people over 2 days of travel, but in this case, God spared us from anything weirder than having to sit, eat, and sleep mere centimeters away from people we’d never seen before...
 
We got to the Island of Malaita on Thursday, the 21st of April, and after two and a half hours of negotiating approximately 3.2 million deep potholes in the bed of a pickup with about thirty other people, countless boxes and bags, and a very irritated chicken, we arrived at our first destination, a little village called Gounahilli. The idea was to join them for their Easter Convention, which would go from Thursday through Sunday, and ultimately consist of 7 church meetings lasting a total of almost 24 hours of worshiping together (5.5 hours for the Easter morning service by itself). 
 
I’ve always been a big fan of the idea of easing into something...You know, taking time to adjust and acclimate, and then when you feel ready to take on the challenge, dive in...That’s not really how this played out, though, and as it turned out, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. We only had a couple of short hours before we had to turn around and participate in the first service. About 30 minutes before it was supposed to start, I heard something across the village - some of the most incredible singing I think I’ve ever heard. I asked one of the guys with us what it was, and he told me it was what they call a “singing band”, a group of women who were going to come over to the house we were staying in and escort us across the village to the church. It was dark already, so I couldn’t see any of them, I could just hear then getting warmed up some distance away. Talk about building anticipation for something...The adrenaline’s already flowing, you’re in a place you’ve never been, you’re getting ready to take part in something that the locals had praying about for TWO YEARS, and you find out that the otherworldly voices you hear in the darkness are for you...Unreal. Even more so when it actually happened, let me tell you. They showed up outside the door, about 30 of them in all, all dressed in white...Swaying in time to the music, holding a stick in one hand (called a bit-bit), that they drummed with on their other hand as they sang. They opened up a pathway in their midst, and we walked across the village, flanked by these amazing women and their voices. I get chills just reliving the moment in my mind...
 
The combination of intricate harmonies, rhythmic pounding of the sticks, and subtle dancing as they marched would make anyone sit up and take notice, musician or not...This wasn’t just inspiring because it was different...It was inspiring because it was phenomenal. These women were doing something at the highest level of creativity and ability. Kind of sobering, really, since it was happening as we were getting ready to speak to these people ourselves. Who wants to follow that kind of opening act? I found out later that the idea of a band like this has deep roots in the Solomons.  When Christianity first came to the Islands,  bands like this formed as part of the evangelism effort. When groups would go to neighboring villages to share the gospel, the women would go in first, marching and singing; essentially, getting the villagers ready to hear a life-changing message. It’s easy to see why that was an effective game plan - That level of passion and beauty has a singular way of completely disarming a person. They don’t do this anymore, apparently. The bands now are just for entertainment purposes, or so they say. I’m not sure I completely buy that, though. The way these women approach their task suggests pretty strongly that they know they’re not singing just to give someone a pleasant diversion for a minute or two. I watched them a few days later as they prepared to sing for us again, on our last night in that village. To say they prayed together would be a huge understatement...These women simply threw down. They pleaded with God. They got on their knees. They raised their hands. They raised their voices. They fought a battle, for themselves, and for everyone they would soon be singing for. They understood the stakes, and they dedicated themselves more fully to their task than anyone I’ve ever seen.
 
And this is something I just can’t shake. See, I feel like I’m a person who puts a lot into what I do, and yet being with these people was a huge revelation to me in this area. Who prays everyday for an event for two years before it’s scheduled? Who builds their guests a brand-new house, rather than simply sharing a room? They even built us a western-style outhouse, complete with flush toilet, right in the middle of a jungle village, because they knew that would be more comfortable for us (granted, they put the lock on the outside of the door so it was completely useless, but hey, A for effort). Who pours themselves out in prayer for hours for a few minutes of singing? They gave the very best of what they had for us...Complete strangers, and yet to them, this is not a negotiable thing. You do it as unto Christ Himself, or you don’t do it. I have to admit, this shook me up, and pretty continually. I’m used to watching people around me shuffle through life and responsibility half-heartedly much of the time. And like I said, though I feel like a person who works hard and takes my tasks seriously, I know that in those moments where I dare to be honest with myself, I have to include myself in that group, at least some of the time. How many of us can say, in all honesty, that we throw ourselves with abandon into everything we do? How many of us would have to admit that we approach certain tasks, relationships, and moments as things to simply be endured until something better and more exciting comes along? Maybe most importantly, how many of us hold others to a standard of conduct and dedication to which we’re unwilling to hold ourselves?
 
I’ve been chewing on this for over a month now, and the only conclusion I can come to is that this needs to be a non-negotiable for me as well. I can’t be okay with the idea that I just coasted through something, or that I expected someone else to pick up the slack for me, or that someone or something wasn’t worth my full effort. It seems to me that it took a pretty thorough dedication to commit to dying on a cross for a group of people that were, at best, mostly apathetic. And it seems that Christ demands the very best from us as well, in what I do in public and in private, and in how I approach my own life and my relationships with others. I know the people of the Solomon Islands aren’t perfect in this respect, but they lived this out perfectly for one particular guy I can point to. Perfectly, because they both demonstrated the standard, and lived it out. Now it’s up to me to do the same. Let’s do this...
 
Peace.