Chapter 15 - Dani Hearth Fire

A peaceful expectancy infuses the large men’s house where I sit cross-legged, watching the fire. The round thatched house is warm and smoke scented. As the embers twinkle red and gold, Tabeme, the chief of this community sitting across from me stirs the fire and adds chunks of wood.

I breathe deeply with contentment. My father is sitting along the wall behind Tabeme, with a Dani preacher near him. Dad’s tanned frame does not blend into the shadows like the preacher’s dark one. They are interviewing candidates for next week’s large baptism. As one man exits the small door near Dad, another steps in and sits on the soft hay.

The preacher makes note of the man’s name and questions him. “Who is God and why did he send his Son to earth?”

“He is the Great Creator, and he sent Jesus to be the sacrifice for our wrong doings,” he answers. “So now we don’t have to sacrifice our pigs to appease evil spirits.”

“Are you trusting in God’s Son to save you? Are you going to forsake the old ways and not wear sacred charms to ward off bad spirits?”

“Eo,” the man nods his assent.

After a few more questions he leaves, and I watch Tabeme. It was at his insistence that my father agreed to bring our family this weekend to camp in the village of Erongobak.

A few days earlier, Tabeme was exasperated with my father. “I have asked you many times to come to our village and interview our people so we can be baptized with the Eromaga clan next week.” He was standing in our kitchen by the woodstove. “You have said, ‘We will come.’” But now the Eromaga clans will be baptized without us—and we want to be included! Remember—when you first came to the Ilaga Valley it was my clan who you camped among, and we made sure you and your carriers had enough sweet potatoes and greens. I took care of you like a father. And now you have not included us in this large baptism!”

My father apologized to this small, forceful man. Tabeme was not adorned as many chiefs were with bird feather on his head net, a pig tusk through his nose. A simple head net framed his mahogany face, but his intelligent eyes and forceful speech portrayed authority. “You did indeed feed us, Tabeme,” my dad answered. “Your strong care made a way for us to be welcomed in the rest of the Ilaga. I have just been busy. So many people come with requests, and there are planes to meet, and I have been putting Scriptures into the Dani language. It takes much time.”

“Yes, but we are among your first people, your near clansmen. We must also be gathered into this baptism. We are also on the forefront.”

“Again, I confess my overlooking you,” Dad answered humbly. “You are my father, and I honor you. My whole family will come and camp in your main village. Have your people ready, each to be questioned with your clan preacher.”

Now, in the men’s house I watch Tabeme sitting with his arms crossed over his knees, relaxed and benevolent. I admire his insistence on pressing forward into the Kingdom with his whole clan. His three wives have already been interviewed and accepted for baptism.

As another man and his two wives enter to be questioned, I consider what a chasm of change is taking place in this Dani tribe. Many clans are taking the risk that their children will not die, their pigs and gardens will keep producing, that no harm will come to them. No backlash from evil powers they had feared for hundreds of years! God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will protect them.

As the fire crackles and the embers glow gold-red I take a deep breath and realize how rich I am. Almost 13, home from boarding school, in the midst of my Dani tribe. Though blond-haired, I am a part of them, and will be baptized also this weekend. This outward symbol of passing from death into life I am taking alone and we are taking together.

“Someday,” I think to myself, “I will reach another tribe with the gospel. My life will be immersed in bringing people to Jesus like Mom and Dad are.” I sigh with satisfaction.

Over a two year span there are 25 fetish burnings, and by the third year around that many churches established across the broad valley. Early on a band of Danis trek down river to their relatives in the Grand Baliem, carrying the Good News, my dad among them. Mom and Danny and David fly to join them—and Ro and I hear in Sentani that many Danis in the Baliem are burning their fetishes and turning to the Lord. We are so happy—the revival is spreading.