The outboard motor droned as we skimmed down the glassy river that early Sabbath morning. An occasional swamp hen startled by our approach frantically flapped its wings and scampered away. Laurie had packed a breakfast for Danny and me to eat along the way, but rain clouds ahead of us threatened our prospects of staying dry while enjoying it. It had been raining before we left, and I was having second thoughts about taking this journey. I knew our lay pastor, Dickson, could handle the service in Widama just fine without me. But I had given him my word that I would be there. Dickson and three of the church leaders from Balimo had gone to Widama a few days prior to do some Bible studies with a group that called itself One Heart Ministry.

One Heart Ministry had been keeping the Sabbath for at least three years. One of the co-founders of the group, a schoolteacher named Colin, had spent time in the highlands of PNG before returning to his Gogodala home in the flood plains of the Aramia River. While in the highlands, he and his wife had attended a Seventh-day Adventist Church. Though neither Colin nor his wife had become baptized members, they brought back the truth of the Sabbath to their people. They moved to Awaba, a town on the river not far from Widama, so he could teach at the government-run grade school. There, they joined a charismatic group of worshipers in Widama led by a man named Clifford. The group had split off from the Evangelical Church of Papua New Guinea (ECP) and for a short time had joined up with Christian Evangelical Fellowship (CEF), a Pentecostal organization. When Colin joined the group, he enlightened them about the Sabbath. Over time, the whole group—about 100 members—began to worship on Saturday, the Bible Sabbath.
Around that time, another influential religious movement was underway among the Gogodala. Ironically, it also promoted worship on Saturday. It was called the Israeli Movement. Its core belief was that the Gogodala people were the lost Israelite tribe of Benjamin, and the believers would soon be transported by airliner to Israel where they would inherit riches, houses and land. There was pressure from both outside and inside One Heart Ministry to join the Israeli Movement, but the leaders, Colin and Clifford, discouraged the group from doing so, and they remained independent.

Three years ago, soon after we accepted the call to work with the Gogodala and were still in the States, we received an email from AFM short-term missionary Ellen Beazley telling us about a group in a village upriver that had requested a visit from her husband, Joe. This group, she said, wanted to be baptized into the Seventh-day Adventist church because they claimed to share our beliefs and were keeping the Sabbath. Joe made a couple of visits to their group with our lay pastor, Dickson, before having to return to the States. Now, I would be meeting this group face to face.

Finally, we came to the mouth of the creek that leads to Widama. Thankfully, the rain stayed ahead of us, and we never got wet. Danny stopped the motor and lifted the propeller out of the water as I paddled the dinghy across a large fishing net strung across the creek mouth. Continuing around the first bend in the creek, we came upon an elderly man and his wife stooped over their canoe collecting the day’s rations from a net. They looked up from their work, and their faces broke into large smiles. “We’ve been expecting you,” they called. “We’ll see you in just a little while. We’re coming to the service as soon as we finish here.”

Wow! I couldn’t see Widama yet, but the word that we were coming had clearly preceded us. The thought hit me that, if we had not come that morning, a number of people would have been disappointed including this dear couple.

Soon the creek opened into a large lagoon. Across the grassy marshland, I caught my first glimpse of Widama. Thatched houses on stilts poked through the trees. As the sound of our motor echoed off the shoreline, a crowd began to gather to greet us. Danny docked the boat, and I gathered my things and climbed the muddy bank, shaking hands with villagers as I went. At the top of the bank, I met Colin, who greeted me warmly. As we strolled up the path together, he pointed out a brand-new metal-roofed church. He said it had been built last year and hadn’t been used yet. “We are waiting to become Seventh-day Adventists,” he said. “Then we will dedicate the building and start using it.”

Behind the church stood an open-sided thatch-roofed meeting house where One Heart Ministry had their services. Colin led me down the steep clay path leading to an open doorway decked with flowers. I could tell the villagers had gone all-out to celebrate this occasion. The whole building was decorated with fresh flowers. In front of the doorway, two ladies greeted me and put paper leis around my neck. What happened next seemed like a page straight out of the Old Testament. The two ladies dressed in matching brightly colored flowered dresses picked up tambourines and did a dance around the room, shaking the tambourines much as I imagine Moses’ sister, Miriam, doing after the Israelites crossed the Red Sea and watched God defeat Pharaoh’s army. As they twirled and sang, I felt a bit awkward. I had never been greeted in such a manner. I realized this demonstration was intended for my whole family and members of the Kotale Church, whom they had assumed would accompany me. Nevertheless, their enthusiasm didn’t wane in the least. As the welcome dance ended, I wondered what an appropriate response would be. All I could think to do was smile and thank them.

The Sabbath morning program included a spirited song service followed by a sermon delivered by Dickson. After the sermon, I joined him in the front for a question-and-answer session. The night before, he had given this group a Bible study that touched on the topic of speaking in tongues. This sparked questions on that topic. Later, an elderly man sitting at the back of the room raised his hand. His question haunts me to this day. He said, “When the first white missionaries came to give us the gospel, it was as though they showed us bananas, but then gave us the peels and took the fruit for themselves. This week, we have heard this man [Dickson] preach, and we believe he has given us the whole banana. My question to you is, are you going to give us the whole banana or not?” The whole room was silent, and all eyes were on me. I thought to myself, “What kind of question is that? Of course I want to give them the whole banana, isn’t that obvious?” But then I thought about the spiritual battle raging here and realized how important it was for me to rely on God and not on myself. I answered, “By God’s grace, I will give you the whole banana.” The room erupted into enthusiastic applause.

We are continuing to meet and study with the people of One Heart Ministry. I invited their leaders to come to Kotale for a worldview training course Dale Goodson taught in October. They attended and were very excited about what they learned.

Please pray for us as we seek to give the Gogodala people the whole banana.

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