Recently I traveled north twelve hours to the dry, dusty city of Tamale to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the Northern Presbytery of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana. It was a typical Ghanaian religious celebration: we sat outside, under tents, in a large square with the congregation on three sides while pastors and invited guests sat at the front; there were about two thousand people and at least ninety percent wore clothes made of matching pale yellow fabric printed specifically for the Northern Presbytery; the service was long, almost five hours, complete with many messages, hymns, dancing, music from the brass band and choir, and three offerings.
As I listened to the messages it was quickly evident why this celebration is important. As the moderator spoke, he shared the history of the church and the sacrifice of the early missionaries who originally arrived less than one hundred years ago. He said this celebration was a special tribute to them -- these missionaries came into a country where they faced death and struggled for years to share the truth of Christ.
Today, Tamale is a city of almost eighty percent Muslim, and a city where dissention exists between Christians and Muslims. This is true for much of Nothern Ghana, as it is true in other ways for all of Ghana and around the world. In my travels around this country I have experienced the unique diversity among the many tribes, including the eighty-five languages, as well as the diversity among religions and even denominations. Diversity in Ghana cannot be avoided, and as I read the blogs of fellow YAVs in Belfast I am reminded that the reality of this diversity is a universal truth. We are indeed a world of diversity, we are a world confronted by differences and struggling to understand them and respond to them. But we cannot let them overcome us, we must learn to embrace them and each other.
The moderator encouraged the people to not relent the efforts of the missionaries, and rather to "bring peace to the North, be united as one people, and unite under the banner of Christ." I imagine the defeat the early missionaries felt, I imagine their cries to God as they suffered to share His truth to a people who were different from what that had ever known, but fifty years later, as I shared in celebration I was a witness to the fruit of their labor.
This week I invited the other volunteers to my house to celebrate Thanksgiving. After a failed attempt to find a turkey in the capital of Accra, Ashley and I were taken to a turkey farm in Ho. There we picked out a turkey, promptly named him Mr. Doku (the Ewe word for turkey), and then took him to a nearby hotel to be slaughtered and defeathered. To say the least, it was a unique and wonderful Thanksgiving, the girls and I prepared our dinner together, full of gratitude for familiar food and each others friendship on this journey.
In school we are taught the importance of history: through awareness of the past we will be better prepared for the future. This year I reflected on the history of Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims coming together and experiencing success, and I was reminded that unity equals success. I witnessed a church celebrating fifty years in a country full of diversity and striving to unite despite difference, all the while filled with constant gratitude for the distance they have come thus far. If only we could remember the past, and God's constant provision, then perhaps one day we will be able to embrace diversity.
