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USPG Mission Companions Bishop Andrew and Janice Proud spent Christmas with Anglicans belonging to the Opo subsistence farming community.
The road to Bonga Opo is little more than a track weaving through thorn scrub, acacias and ginger-orange trees. Fortunately, our guide knew this track well. The previous week he had walked it with his people to clear as much as they could with machetes.
After nudging our way through, we were eventually spotted by three young Opo who’d been waiting for us. The clambered onto the roof of our car and sang vigorously to announce our imminent arrival.
And suddenly, there we were. A choir came out to meet us as we drew up to the beautiful clearing of Bonga Opo.
The first event was a meeting with the community elders. They wanted many things –a mud church, electric light and grain. We said we would do what we could. In the meantime, Janice offered to visit their agricultural area and advise them on which crops might do well. Everyone was very pleased.
Soon after this meeting, a Nuer choir approached through the forest, singing and swirling huge flags on long bamboo poles. They visiting nearby settlements to share Christmas with anyone they found. A crowd of some 300 gathered and I was invited to preach (with translators).
In the evening, under a watery half moon, lit by candles and an LED light we had brought from Addis, I read Luke’s account of the birth of Christ, then told the story of salvation. Everyone listened – people leaning forward, women sitting on the floor nursing babies – and afterwards asked questions: ‘Aren’t we all Christians?’, ‘Why different denominations?’, ‘Are some foods unclean?’, ‘Who made Satan?’
On learning Mary was pregnant, Joseph hit the bottle
At 10.30, under the clearing sky, the Opo staged a Christmas drama, with some delightful twists: Joseph, having been told Mary was pregnant, hit the bottle. The grand finale saw Herod collapse before being carried off by his soldiers to hoots of laughter.
It was now past 12: Christmas Day. All went quiet. We prayed and headed off for bed. As we settled, we could hear the sound of laughter all around us as. Like us, everyone was talking excitedly about what they had seen. But very soon, the darkness curled around us, the firelight dimmed, and the community settled into deep sleep.
Christmas Day. In the early hours, the voice of a man, singing gently to himself, broke the deep silence around us. Everyone began to wake. Children stirred excitedly, there a man coughed, there someone began to beat a drum and then stopped, and there someone was stirring the cooking fires. By 7, a soft grey light filled the sky and we emerged from our tukul.
Six young men debate who should kill the cow
Very soon, I joined six young men and the cow they’d been fattening for today’s feast. The cow, tied to a fallen tree, was gently grazing as the men began a soft but urgent discussion about who would kill it. No one, it seemed, really wanted to.
Over by the church, four women were grinding fresh maize between stones and, as she watched, Janice was invited to join in. Perhaps expecting her to say no, there was a shriek of delight as she got down on her knees to copy what the others were doing. We both felt very much a part of what was going on around us – no one bothered us with requests for anything (so unlike other places) and everyone seemed as happy to have us around as we were to be there.
At 8.30 we were ready to start the Christmas Day celebrations. Dressed in an alb, stole and mitre (despite the heat), I was led into a tiny grass church to start the liturgy. Except there were so many people that, after two or three songs, we moved outside, under the trees.
When the sermon was over, all those to receive baptism were led through the fields of tall grass, between the shaggily roofed tukuls, down to the river.
Everyone gathered at the river’s edge as I waded out, surprised at the strength of the current. One by one, 32 adults were helped into the fast-running water. They crouched forwards, some with their faces right in the water, as I baptised them by pouring water over their heads. (Children were baptised on the bank.)
I then waded from the river, my alb and sandaled feet muddy, to walk back to the church to confirm 43 adults, and Christen eight babies.
By 12.30, we were finished. With a long drive ahead of us, we set off with two live chickens in the back of the car and four Opo students who needed a lift. It was a wonderful, memorable Christmas!
Posted on 07.01.2010
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