Jabonep the Witness Man (Witness Men ch 6)

I’m posting a chapter at a time of my most recent book, for about a week each.  Witness Men: True Stories of God at Work in Papua, Indonesia is due out in Spring 2013.

The teenage boys of the Dani tribe in the Pyramid Valley jumped and shouted outside the missionary’s house with such energy that their long black hair bounced on their backs. “Tuan Yon! Tuan Yon!”

Henry Young got out of bed and came to the door, where he could see the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.

“Tuan Yon, you must hear!  In another village, near us, a man has come who can’t see. He is very short. The gun shot him many years ago. It went right through him, but he’s still alive!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Henry Young passed his hand over his sleepy eyes.

“Long times past, this blind man went away, but now he has come back! The river! The river waters stop and let him go by on dry ground!”

“Who is it?” Henry asked. “Where did you get this story?”

“Didn’t you hear about him?” one boy insisted. “If he dies, his family won’t burn him. They’ll just throw him in the river. Then he’ll come back to life!”

All the boys sucked in their breaths, their eyes wide.

“And then we’ll be able to see the spirits of the dead, Tuan!” another boy added. “They’ll look like you!” But the boys were too excited to laugh. They nearly trembled at the wonder of this amazing man. “Do you want to come see him?”

“You’d better believe I do,” Henry muttered. He got his clothes on and walked with the boys to the nearby village. They continued to chatter all the way.

From a distance they could see the crowd. How many here? Henry wondered. Must be thousands. They were still gathering, coming from villages all around. Everyone was chattering about the amazing stories they had heard.

There was the man! But hmmm. It wasn’t one man; it was three. And none of them were blind.

“You boys got your stories a little mixed up,” Henry said. “None of these men look like the man you were talking about.”

The boys smiled and shrugged and nudged their way into the crowd to listen. They didn’t care that stories could get twisted as they traveled from village to village.

The man who appeared to be the main speaker came up to Henry. “I am Jabonep,” he said. “I am from the Witness School in Ilaga. I want to give these people the gospel.”

“Well, I wish you success,” said Henry. “I’ve been preaching it for years, but they don’t show any interest.”

More and more people gathered, jostling each other as they sat down in the center of the large village. The other two witness men, and others with loud voices, stood here and there throughout the crowd.

And so the “echo preaching” began.

Jabonep lifted his hands to the sky and turned his face upward. “Greetings, our Maker, greetings!” he said.

The echo preachers near him copied his actions and his words. Then other men here and there throughout the crowd did the same. “Greetings, our Maker, greetings!”

Once the echo system started, it moved very quickly. Every line was echoed, echoed throughout the crowd, to make sure everyone could hear, even the ones farthest away.

“Today we are here! And the tuan is with us!”

“The tuan knows about You and what You have done for us!”

“He has told these people about You, but they have not listened!”

“So we have come to tell them about You and about Your words.”

“We have heard Your words, so we no longer follow the old bad ways.”

“You have given Your good Spirit to us, our Maker!”

“You are good, and You are enough, our Maker!”

“You have given Your knowledge to the tuan!”

“I am all done talking with You, our Maker!”

“Your eyes are the shining stars.”

Jabonep opened his eyes and looked at the people and began to preach.

“There was a blind man!” Through the thousands of people his preaching was echoed again and again.

“He could see nothing!”

“But there was a man—Jesus!”

“He had great power!”

“Jesus touched the eyes of the blind man . . . and he could see!” Jabonep popped his hands together and apart and then stopped, while everyone gasped.

Henry Young looked around at the crowd, and saw that all of their eyes were as big as seashells. Especially those teenage boys who had come with him.

“That man Jesus was not a man like us!”

“That man Jesus was not a man like the tuan!”

“That man Jesus could walk on the water!”

Once again everyone in the crowd gasped.

“That man Jesus was the Son of the Great Maker!”

All eyes were riveted on the preachers.

“They killed that man Jesus! They put a spear right through him!”

Well, that isn’t exactly right, Henry thought.

“But that man Jesus came back to life! He lived forever!”

Henry could hear the whole crowd breathe in awe. Then they began whispering to each other so fast that he couldn’t even understand what anybody was saying.

Jabonep waited. When he spoke again, he directed his hand at one person after another.

“You are bad! You are bad!”

“You steal pigs! You kill people! You eat people! You speak not truth!”

I’ve been telling them that for years, Henry thought, but they just laugh at me. They think I’m talking like a crazy tuan. And they keep stealing my tools.

“You are turned toward the bad spirits!” Jabonep continued.

“But that man Jesus can make you turn to the good Spirit!”

Suddenly Jabonep cried out, “Put your head down on your knees!”

As Henry watched in amazement, everyone did! I’ve never been able to get them to do that.

Jabonep again lifted his hands to the sky and turned his face upward.

“Great Maker!” Through the crowd echoed the words. “Great Maker! Great Maker!”

“You look down at these people!”

“Give Your spirit to these people!”

“Give your words to these people!”

“You are great, O Great Maker!”

“Your arms stretch across the land.”

“I am all done talking with You now.”

When Jabonep finished, the people stood up, soberly, quietly. Some whispered, some didn’t speak at all. There was far too much to think about.

And Jabonep and his friends went on his way.

The next morning, several of the Pyramid Danis came to Henry Young’s house.

“Tuan Yon!” they cried. “We want to listen to your words!”

When Henry walked out, he saw some of his tools that had been missing for months. “Where did those come from?” he asked.

“Somebody took them, Tuan,” said a man earnestly. “But somebody brought them back.”

“Huh,” Henry muttered. “Wonder who that somebody was. But it looks like the gospel is making a difference.”

Henry turned to another man. “Why didn’t you listen to me all this time when I was preaching? What did Jabonep do different?”

“Tuan, your words were foreign words. When we heard that witness man, we knew those words were from our own people. They were for us. So now we want to hear your words too.”

Through the days as Henry preached, more and more people came. “We heard the witness man! We want to hear more of the Jesus words!”

One day one of the mightiest leaders in the area came. “Jesus has repaired my heart!” he cried out. “I want you to teach my wives and my children!”

Another old man who had hated the missionary said, “I am a Christian now! I will go to heaven with you!”

So many people were coming to Christ, so many people wanted to be taught, that Henry Young asked for more missionaries and more witness men to come help him.

Over six thousand people came to listen to the echo preaching.

 

 

Letter from a teacher

A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of visiting a classroom of elementary students who had read together, as a class, a  preliminary copy of Witness Men, my most recent book and #3 in the Hidden Heroes series. It was a delight to talk with them. Later I received an encouraging letter from the teacher:

After the chapter toward the end where the missionary was martyred, we discussed martydom, Jim Eliot’s life, and the cost of following Christ.  We were all always close to tears as we finished a chapter, and did end up in tears as we read the last two chapters.  The responses were always that they loved each chapter better than the last, and they wouldn’t change a thing. I think we proved more valuable as admirers than critics.

I hope knowing that you have captured nine precious little hearts will make up for our lack of more formal critiquing.  And in capturing them with your writing, you have opened up new worlds to them, challenging those precious hearts to pray harder, to witness more diligently, to be more appreciative of their material and spiritual blessings, and to be open to being used as these missionaries have been.  Hopefully, their response and positive reception of the book is a good and encouraging sign to you of how well it will be received among children as well as adults. 

We pray for you and look forward to holding the finished product in our hands as soon as possible!

Praising God that He is already using these stories in the lives of children. I’m excited about working through the process of publication.

Nabelan Kabelan? (Witness Men ch 5)

I’m posting one chapter a week of my newest book, Witness Men, which has just been accepted for publication. Chapter 5 has been removed from the blog (it was up for a week), but here is a brief excerpt.

“My son-in-law says that this Jesus will give life that goes on and on,” Lalok said anxiously. “Will my son-in-law live forever?”

“He won’t live forever on this earth, but after this life, he’ll have eternal life with the great God, Jehovah. That’s because Den no longer holds to his power pieces, but he looks to Jesus only for his power.”

“So maybe this is the nabelan kabelan of the Dani,” said Lalok.

“Tell me about nabelan kabelan,” said Gordon.

“The bird dies, of course. But the snake lives forever, as we can see by the new skin he gets again and again. Long ago the snake and the bird had a race, and the bird won the race. Our ancestors foolishly followed the bird and lost the way to live forever. But we believe that someday we will again find nabelan kabelan, my skin your skin. That is the forever life that our ancestors lost. Then we will have no more death, no more fear, no more hard work, no more war. Maybe what you tell me is this.”

“I can’t promise no more hard work. I can’t promise that you won’t die. But I can promise that in Jesus Christ you can have no fear. I can promise that in Jesus Christ you no longer have to have these terrible wars. I can promise that in Jesus Christ you can live forever after death.”

Identify this missionary kid . . .

Who’s the taller one in front, the ten-year-old?

One evening last summer Tim and I were both lounging in bed, both reading. Suddenly I said, “Hey, look at this.” I covered the caption of the picture and showed him. “Who do you think that goofy (but loveable) looking ten-year-old boy is?”

Tim barely looked up from his engrossing novel. “I have no idea.”

“No, seriously!” I said. “Look at him! Can’t you tell who it is?”

“Am I supposed to know?”

“Yes! You should be able to tell!”

He sighed. “Give me a hint. What year is it?”

“It’s 1973.”

Tim squinted at the picture and acted like he was going to turn back to his book again. Honestly, I couldn’t get his attention away from it for two seconds.

So I reminded him that I was reading this book as part of my research for Witness Men. Then I showed him the cover. It was Torches of Joy, by John Dekker, a missionary.

“All right. Now, who’s that boy?” I raised my eyebrows in anticipation.

“Is it Ted Dekker?”

“That’s it! Ted Dekker at ten years old! Remember, his parents went to work among the Dani people in Irian Jaya, I mean Papua, and he says that growing up in that jungle is part of what gave him the background for his. . . .”

But Tim had already turned back to his gripping novel. I think he didn’t even hear me.

What was that compelling book that drew him like a magnet?

Oh, yes. It was Obsessed.

By Ted Dekker.

Power Pieces (Witness Men ch 4)

“Tuan!” the boy called. “Tuan Botemon!”

Tom Bozeman came out of his little pole-and-bark house to see the bright-eyed boy. Tom had lived here among this Dani tribe a few months, and had learned enough words to begin teaching the people a little bit.

“Greetings!” he said, snapping his fingers with the boy’s. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Hilitu,” the boy said. “I saw you at the cannibal feast yesterday.”

I’m posting one chapter at a time of this children’s book of true stories. Each chapter will be up for about a week and then will come down. Read along with me to get a taste of what the book will be like when it’s published!