Virginia Episcopalian Magazine Summer 2013 Issue | Page 25

A ‘Boundless Faith’ in the Congo The Rev. Deacon Carey Chirico There is silence among the 50 or so women gathered in the large room as 20 of their number file in. Dressed as village women, rebel soldiers, a village chief and village members, the women take up positions and begin the most important and realistic teaching we, visitors from the Dioceses of Virginia and Southern Virginia, would get on the experience of the women of Congo. Women hoeing in the field. Women, backs bent , miming the actions of some missing. The village chief prepares to go to the rebels to bargain for the release of the women with all the cash the village can raise. One husband shows up at the local clinic and berates his raped wife, telling her that she is no longer his wife. While the village chief risks his life in the rebel stronghold, being beaten and robbed and left to return to his village empty handed, the women of the village try to reason with the husband, who is among other things Photo: Buck Blanchard Kathy Klein, a member of the Diocese of Virginia Women-to-Women Ministry, presents the vicar of Kabushwa Parish, home of the Tamar Project for Women, with gifts from her home parish of Abingdon Church, White Marsh. The Rev. Deacon Carey Chirico of St. George’s, Fredericksburg, looks on. planting by hand, moving in unison up and down the fields. Suddenly soldiers, “the negative forces” – so called because no one is really sure who they are – burst upon the scene. After killing several women and raping others, two women are taken back to their leader. The woman miming the leader has a mock cigarette sticking out of the corner of her mouth. She presses against the women, telling them what she plans for them, and they begin to sob and beg for release. Meanwhile, across the room, the villagers have gone out to the field to find out why the women have not returned. They walk into a scene of devastation – some women are dead, some badly injured, terrified of the disease his wife might now carry. As the play continues, I glance around at the faces of the women watching. Some faces are stony and flat while others cheer wildly and others shake their heads in grief at the truth before their eyes. These are the women of the microfinance group run by the Mother’s Union of Bukavu, our partners in ministry. Numbering about 75, they range in age from 14 to possibly 80. All have been raped and all have been cast out of their villages and families, the youngest with a baby on her tiny hip. Destitute and without hope, the women have been brought or have found their way to Mme Bahati, head of the Mother’s Union and wife of the Rt. Rev. Sylvestre Bali-Busane Bahati, bishop of Bukavu, to ask for help. The Church, with its meager resources, mobilizes to protect and to heal. This is important because it is the Church’s call – and because there is no one else. At the conclusion of the play, we thanked the women for sharing their story in such an important way. We spent several hours talking about the work the Church is helping them to begin, how the loan is working, how it is never enough, how children need school fees – roughly $3 a month – and how many have injuries that prevent hard labor. There are no easy answers here, but the fact that we are there to listen, to learn, to share stories from our lives is crucial and entertaining. “How many children do you have?” they want to know. “Why so few? Don’t you want lots of boys?” “Who cooks for your husband when you are here?” These are the women of the Tamar Project, which takes its name from 2 Samuel 13:1-22, the story of Amnon and Tamar. Their lives are difficult and complicated. Yet they long to laugh with us, joke with us, play with us. They are people whose faith has been tested in the most challenging of ways. Our diocesan ministry group, Women-to-Women, a partnership between the Diocese of Bukavu and the Dioceses of Virginia and Southern Virginia, seeks to support the work of the women of the Tamar Project through fundraising for their microfinance, vocational training, literacy education and care of orphans. We also advocate on behalf of the women of Congo. And we are educating ourselves, our congregations and our youth about the high cost women pay for the conflict minerals in our Xboxes and cell phones. Yet perhaps most of all, we seek a deeper understanding and friendship with the women of the Tamar Project, that our faith in God’s great mercy might become as deep and boundless as theirs. t Summer 2013 / Virginia Episcopalian 23