On last night...

Last night my husband walked right into the middle of an all out war in the village, hoping his presence would calm things down. As he walked away towards the screaming night, I had brief moments of panic, wondering if a stray axe or machete would hit him. It didn't help that all the adults on the fringes were warning us to stay away and normally curious kids were running away from the sounds rather than towards it. The fight was lit slightly by a full moon and swinging flashlight beams, but besides that there were no distinctions in the dark of who was doing what. 

I sat with some ladies, nervously picking at my fingernails, waiting for him to return and seeing men and boys trickle back towards us. Eventually we heard things die down and I knew if he was hurt, the news would make it to us in two seconds flat. 

Moments like this are so incredibly hard to explain that often I just don't. How do I explain what it's like to live here, with the hope of Jesus living inside of me, the answers to all the death and violence bubbling within, but unable to appeal to these things with those around us? Yes, we are getting there. Slowly we can begin to poke and prod their worldview and understand how their beliefs eventually break down. But it's not enough to say, "Stop that behavior, it's wrong". Morally, they know deep down it is wrong. God created us all with a conscience. But generations of culture and traditions, of watching your parents scream and yell and beat one another when angry, of looking the other way when witnessing a fight on your doorstep, of parents and grandparents going to war over someone's dog eating someone else's grub worms, of grandparents murdering their illegitimate newborn granddaughter, has bred acceptance of violence and revenge. 

We've watched elementary aged kids play act village wars between girls and boys, mimicking their parents' fight behavior down to the things they call each other and the war dances they perform. 

We've watched domestic disputes taking place out in public, with hoards if children lined up watching all of it. 

Once, after a lady came to the house with a mangled arm after her husband hit her with an iron rod, I was full of emotion that I didn't know how to express. When I mentioned it to a friend, she was also appalled. But then she said, "Yeah, he shouldn't have hit her with the rod, he should have just hit her with his hand."

The Asmat people wear their emotions on their sleeves. There is no hiding their feelings. Often I appreciate it. The all-out wailing for a dead loved one is much preferred to the Western culture of sniffling softly into a tissue. Don't we encourage people to express their emotions, and doesn't it feel good to scream into a pillow sometimes? There are certainly things we can learn and appreciate about other cultures.

But the answers to true heart peace don't lie in behavioral change. Rather, those behaviors change when hearts are first changed. So we sit with our friends. We cry with them. We get angry at their behavior and our helplessness. We try and protect our kids while also exposing them to the realities here. We sit and listen to language recordings and ask questions. We make plans for how to teach effectively and how to adjust our methods according to the realities of life here.

And we pray. 

Sam wasn't injured but many men and boys were. This time their fighting was a continuation of a fight that happened two nights ago that they apparently never completely aired out. All I can say is a communal life like the one the Asmat people live in holds no secrets. Fights happen daily here, ranging from small disputes to larger ones. We often just tune them out, unable to handle any more stories and behaviors that are just so foreign to our first-world minds. But many times we are hit with just the deep need for Jesus that we see here. 

I have those flesh tendencies within me as well. My thoughts can become very sinful too.  How can I love a man who punched his wife in the face and neck because she asked him where he'd been? Or even look at the man who burned his wife with a piece of firewood because she was upset that he didn't share food with his one year old son? 

But I have the ability to say yes to Christ and His work in me. To take the evil thoughts and ask His forgiveness and the supernatural ability to be civil to these kinds of people.  And we desperately want this for our friends here too. May we be effective in the time God has us here as we press on.