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A Christmas Story Melanie Murphy, FAR’s Household Food Security Manager in Upper Nile, wrote this article for Journey. It is reprinted here with permission.A few weeks ago I had the privilege of attending the celebration of the birth of a new baby, in the town where I live in Southern Sudan. The wrinkly little boy wrapped in swaddling blankets was not even 24 hours old, as friends and family gathered on the family’s compound to give thanks to God for the new and tiny life that had just begun. The birth of a new child anywhere is cause for rejoicing, but in a place like Southern Sudan, which lacks both adequate health care and health practitioners, the survival of both mother and child is not something that can be expected, nor taken for granted. In fact, at a recent UN meeting, we were told that a Sudanese teenager has a greater chance of dying while giving birth than finishing primary school. As we prayed prayers of thanksgiving and celebration, and sang joyous songs to welcome young Gordon into the world, and into Sudan, it surprised me that these people had so much hope for the young life that lay before them, as yet untainted by the violence, poverty and hatred that pervades this country. Sadly, I envision a life of oppression, of hunger, of war, if he even survives past the age of 5. But these people don’t. They were speaking of the potential he has, the promise his future holds, and joy and hope emanated from their prayers, their songs and their laughter. As I sat in the mud hut compound, watching livestock run in and out of the straw gate, manoeuvring around the young mother cradling her baby in the modest folds of her long shawl, I realized that this scene had a bit of a familiar look to it. And it wasn’t long before my thoughts drifted to the birth of another child who also brought hope and joy to a messed up and broken world. I tend to have a rather romanticized idea of the birth of Jesus. It involves sheep and cows swaying together to the sound of Silent Night. A peaceful looking Mary, not at all uncomfortable from having just given birth, smiles lovingly at her child as a boy beats a drum in the background. A heavenly glow emanates from some unknown place, as the sweet smells of frankincense and myrrh fill the night-time air. Throughout, the child sleeps peacefully in the manger, never crying, never needing his diaper changed, and certainly never causing his parents a sleepless night. Also, all of these people are white. However, as I sat in that compound, I realized that the actual scene was probably much closer to what I was witnessing. Jesus was born to a poor family in a barn. Gordon’s family lives in a small mud hut with a grass thatched roof, on a compound they share with their goats, donkey, and chickens. Jesus was a refugee, forced from his ancestral land because of the threat of violence. In the town where I live, much of the population is comprised of internally displaced people (IDPs), those who were forced from their homelands under duress and desperation during the 30 year civil war. Nothing good was thought to come from Nazareth. Surely in today’s world, one doesn’t expect much of any worth to come from a place like Sudan. But as I sat there admiring Gordon, I realized that it was probably no coincidence that Jesus came into the world as baby. For as I had come to see only moments earlier, babies everywhere bring hope. They bring happiness and joy and they give us a reason to continue to work for a better world. At the very least, they give us reason not to give up on the world. More importantly still, like that baby born in a manger on the first Christmas night, babies are a sign that despite all of our shortcomings, our mistakes, and the mess we have made of this world we call home, God has not yet given up on us. That indeed is reason to celebrate this Christmas season. And that indeed is reason to place our hope in, and work towards, the better world that will one day come. |
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