I’m writing this sitting on the beach at Abaka Bay resort on
Ile-a-Vache in the Bay of Cayes. It’s pretty stunning – CNN rated it among the
top 100 beaches in the world. We came out to this island today for some down
time in the midst of this mission trip, this experience of being sent to help accomplish
God’s purposes. The group came in two wooden longboats, continuing the trip’s
“adventure travel” theme. We had lunch and a wonderful swim in perfect water on
a perfect beach. You could almost forget you’re in Haiti … but you shouldn’t. Because
Haiti is beautiful, even in the midst of its ramshackle buildings, aching
poverty, and intractable social problems.
If you’ll permit a moment of theological reflection, perhaps
Abaka Bay is Haiti before the fall. Our Christian story begins with God’s
perfect creation, as well as God’s perfect love. God wanted to give us those
blessings so we would care for both the good earth and each other. But it only
takes two chapters of Genesis before we come to the tree of the knowledge of
good and evil, and the serpent, and our preference for listening to voices
other than God’s voice of love.
All of Haiti used to be Abaka Bay, before sin entered
in. And believe me, there is plenty of
sin to go around: Spanish people who killed indigenous people; French people
who enslaved African people and then demanded billions in reparations from them
because the Africans won the war; Haitian leaders who preferred
self-aggrandizement to fostering their people’s well-being; light-skinned
Haitians who have lorded it over dark-skinned Haitians from the nation’s
beginnings to the present day; Americans who occupied the country in the 20th
century and re-enslaved people through forced labor; current Haitian leaders
who prefer personal power and empty promises to playing the long game of
structural change. That’s a lot of sin, and Haiti bears it as best it can.
And in the midst of our sinfulness, God keeps inviting us to
join in Jesus’ work of redemption. Earlier today, before arriving at the
resort, we visited the “city” on Ile-a-Vache, Madame Bernard. There we
witnessed three in-breakings of God’s reign of love.
The first was an orphanage, school, and hospital where 23
disabled children live and learn as best they can. It’s run by a Roman Catholic
nun, Sister Flora, once a physician in Canada, who came to Ile-a-Vache in the
1970s and stayed to build this place of blessing. Asked what brought her here, of all places – from
Canada to a remote island off the Haitian coast – she said simply, “God,” as if
the answer were patently obvious. For decades, her students and patients have
been grateful.
The second act of redemption was the reaction of our young
missionaries to the disabled people they met at the orphanage. I didn’t know Pere
Colbert (our partner priest) was planning to take us there, so I hadn’t
prepared them for what they might see. It can be jarring to encounter people
with developmental, physical, and psychological disabilities in your own
context. Haitian facilities function under different standards than their American
counterparts. But our young missionaries
reached out to the kids with open hearts, overcoming their own shock and taking
kids’ open hands in theirs.
The third act of redemption we witnessed is just in its
early stages. Pere Colbert is planting a church near the town of Madame Bernard.
Actually the location is a 25-minute walk out of town, up a steep hill, because
Colbert’s passion is to bring church to what he calls “the countryside” – rural
Haiti, which has virtually no advocates other than people like Colbert (and
partners like St. Andrew’s, actually). Like the people of Maniche, the people
up the hill from Madame Bernard need the community that a new parish will
bring, and they need the education that the church’s school will provide. It’s
redemption in the making.
So as I sit here at Abaka Bay, I give thanks for having seen
both sides of this lovely island: God’s glory revealed in the gorgeous beach
and God’s loving redemption happening at Madame Bernard. Sin still persists, of
course, as “the creation waits with eager longing … [to be] set free from its
bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God”
(Romans 8:19,21). But today, it’s good to be able both to visit the Garden and
glimpse its healing.
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