Papua New Guinea is a culturally diverse nation with hundreds of tribal groups, but one norm is common to all of them. They call it “payback.” It is characterized by quick judgment and retribution by an offended party, a snap decision of revenge without considering consequences. Payback can even be practiced by Christians, including, sadly, Seventh-day Adventists. Payback often escalates into tribal fighting. But I am encouraged by this story of one of our church members who broke the pattern and refused to pay back evil for evil.
The black palm floor of the small thatched house shook ever so slightly in the early morning darkness as Nasa quietly got up from his mat, slipped over to the door and descended the ladder to the ground. His wife Egewa was already up, bent over the fire stirring the embers out of the ashes. She was preparing to cook the last bit of sago left in their house before going to the sago camp to get more. Their five sleeping children began to stir as a rooster under the house crowed, alerting them to the approach of day. There had not been any substantial rain for the past six months, and all the lagoons were dried up. This meant the villagers had to walk half an hour to get to their canoes.
Nasa went to his garden before heading out with his family. At least his watermelons were thriving in the dry spell. Nasa’s garden was full of the green, luscious ripening fruits. He estimated that when they returned from the sago camp in two weeks, his watermelons would be nearly ready to pick.
After paddling their canoe for seven hours downriver in the heat of the day, they arrived at Kala, a place where the sago trees were plentiful. Due to the extended drought, getting sago was more difficult. At the camp, Nasa had to dig a deep well to get the water they needed to wash the sago starch out of the pulp. As he worked in the hot sun, his mind returned to those watermelons, and he relished the thought of their refreshing sweetness. After two weeks of chopping sago trees, pounding pulp and collecting and drying sago, Nasa and his wife were ready to go home. They loaded their bundles of sago with the kids into the canoe and slowly paddled the eight hours back upriver. On the way, they stopped in Balimo to sell some of their sago in the market so they could buy soap and other necessities.
Leaving Balimo late in the afternoon, they paddled the last leg of their journey home in the dark. They arrived at their house around 10 p.m. very tired. But Nasa still took a few minutes to check on his watermelons. When he reached his patch, his heart sank. Every one of his watermelons had been stolen! He was so disappointed and exhausted that he went to bed without bringing their seven sago bundles in from the canoe. The next morning when he went to get the bundles, he discovered that two of them were missing. The thief was still around!
Later that day, Nasa went down the path to his father-in-law’s house. His father-in-law told him that while they were gone, someone had broken into their house. When Nasa told Egewa what had happened, she demanded, “What are you going to do about this?”
“I am going to remain silent about these things,” Nasa replied. In his earlier days, his response to offenses like this might have been the typical Gogodala response—running through the neighborhood angrily shouting at the top of his lungs and demanding the villagers find and punish the perpetrator. However, peace now settled in his heart, a peace that not even the midnight rascals could steal from him. He has learned to trust the One who said, “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth give I unto you” (John 14:27).
Did Nasa obtain justice for the damages that were done to him? If you ask him, he will tell you that God provides for his family’s needs, and he is happy because he puts his confidence in Him.
