Our church in Launceston is privileged to support the spread of the gospel in Sabu. I was asked to go there and represent our church at the ordination of two men to the ministry of the gospel. Sabu is a small Indonesian island, wedged between the larger islands of Sumba and Timor. Being in the south of the Indonesian archipelago, it’s physically not that far from the northern reaches of Australia. Yet, culturally, it may as well be on the other side of the world.
It’s a typical, warm, dry morning as we make our way through the hilly arid landscape up to the church at Taka. Rocks outnumber trees and the dry, brown dust says this is a tough place to earn a living off the land. Compared to my current home in Tasmania, the bird and animal life is scarce.
We arrive at the church and already a few dozen people have gathered. Eventually, they’ll total 150-200 people, filling the building and spilling out the back under a tent that’s been erected for the joyous occasion. Many attendees are wearing the traditional Sabunese ikat, a woven garment with graphic designs unique to each clan. They greet each other – and me – by rubbing noses. As they smile, many mouths and teeth are visibly stained red. This comes from the habit of chewing betel nuts – which gives a mild stimulant effect.
The ordination service itself is familiar to a Reformed believer from anywhere. It follows the standard Reformed liturgy. Almost all the singing is from the Psalms, sung to Genevan tunes. The Form for Ordination seems to be the form used everywhere else. The men, Amos and Yohanes, are asked a series of questions. They answer, “I do.” Then follows the laying on of hands and I’m asked to participate in this, along with all the other pastors present. Amos and Yohanes kneel on two pillows at the front of the church. The pastors present (about 8 of us) gather around and we don’t actually place our hands on the brothers, but over them. Then presiding pastor Pila says (in Indonesian, of course):
God, our heavenly Father, who has called you to this holy office, enlighten you with his Spirit and so govern you in your ministry that you may fulfil it obediently and that it may bear fruit to the honour of his name and the expansion of the kingdom of his Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
After the service ends, a number of people speak a few words. I’m also given the opportunity to extend greetings on behalf of our church and its mission committee. I present a gift to each of the newly minted pastors: Richard Pratt’s He Gave Them Stories (in Indonesian).
We proceed to a house a short way down the dusty road for a celebratory feast. The ladies have prepared an enormous amount of food to share for lunch. Besides the obligatory rice, there’s also chicken, some goat, and liver, though I’m not sure from which animal. For me, the highlight was a savoury pork heart stew with a vinegary sauce.
Joining me as I enjoy this feast are Pastor Windi and Elder Max. They’re from another Reformed church on the island (Gurijara) and they both speak English fairly well. Once we’re done eating, they invite me to travel with them to see some more of the island and its Reformed churches. I hop on the back of Max’s motorbike and away we go. With me weighing it down, the poor motorbike struggles to get much beyond 40 Km/h.
Max is a high school teacher and his English is good. He’s quite talkative, even as we’re driving. Because of his work, he seems to be well-known to many people in Sabu. Almost every person he passes gets a little beep of the horn and sometimes a greeting or comment. Before long, we’re at the church building in Gurijara. This is the largest Reformed church on the island – I’m told it’s about 180 members. They show me around the simple building and explain how they hope to eventually build a replacement next door.
Before we continue from Gurijara, I have to pause. By this time the tropical sun is high and intense. There’s hardly a cloud in sight. Sunburn threatens and I’ve forgot to bring sunblock from home. I went to every toko in the town of Seba but no one stocked sunblock. The closest I could get was some hand and face lotion that included some sunscreen. I apply that and even if I don’t get much sun protection, at least I smell flowery.
Our next stop is Sabu Timor. We tour the new Reformed church under construction there – it’s going to be a large building once it’s completed. The foundations are poured and supporting pillars are in place. The next step is to build the walls, but progress is slow and no one is sure when it’ll be done. There’s a store next to the construction site, owned by a church member. We enjoy some water and Max gets some extra air pumped into his tires. Yeah, it’s not exactly a feathery local riding with him. But at least I smell nice.
Max and Windi offer to show me the old building in Sabu Timor. We drive down the road a short ways and then we cut off onto a narrow track. We drive past the veranda of a home, around the back, and then we’re there. There are some church members waiting for us. They warmly greet us and we all rub noses. We sit in some blue plastic chairs and take in the view out of the church and over the nearby ocean. A refreshing breeze is blowing off the water and it’s a comfortable spot to relax. Before long, the ladies are bringing in iced tea and a small meal of rice, cabbage, and omelette.
Max points out the most elderly member of the church. She’s 83 years old and the matriarch of the village. Everyone in the church is related to her, many of them are her children and grandchildren. She’s blind in one eye, a little slow in her movement, but otherwise still seems quite alert. Dressed in her traditional ikat, she quietly strikes a dignified poise.
One of the elders brings his guitar and serenades us with some strumming. Max asks if I like singing and I say, “Sure, but not everyone likes my singing.” He suggests we sing, “Silent Night” and we do, and it goes okay — in other words, no one runs away. Then Windi says we should sing “How Great Thou Art.” The guitarist first strums out the chorus and then we launch into the first verse. We get to the chorus and just as we hit the high note at the end of the first line (“Then sings my soul…”), a village dog wanders in and starts howling along. We all start laughing – all except the village matriarch. She leaps out of her chair and goes at the poor musical dog. She chases him out of the church and then, for good measure, takes a small plastic water bottle and hucks it at him. You can hear the poor dog whimpering off into the shadows. You don’t mess with the village matriarch when she’s enjoying her music!
From Sabu Timor, we head back to the main town of Seba. I get dropped off at the homestay and Max heads back to his home in the nearby hills. Seeing some of Sabu was interesting, enjoying some of the food was tantalizing, but the best thing of all was the reward of meeting God’s people. It was awesome to share in their joy at the ordination of Amos and Yohanes. And also getting a glimpse into their lives in this unique place was something that far transcends what you’d experience as an ordinary tourist.