In April, I had the privilege of being invited to visit the Anglican Diocese of Central Melanesia (which comprises the Solomon Islands’ capital Honiara and its surrounds) as part of Moore College’s annual mission. Over 10 days, our group of 12 – myself, the Rev Dr Mark Earngey and 10 students – attended multiple church services and visited Anglican schools, as well as the Bishop Patteson Theological College. 

People in the Solomons were a model of Christian humility and eager to learn. They were warm, hospitable and generous with wanting to hear about our faith and context. But I found our visit to be a mutually educational experience and learnt a great deal from fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to reflect on some of the things I observed, in church and elsewhere, as they challenged me to rethink some of my assumptions. 

Generous with time 

One of the initial things we noticed on our first Sunday was the amount of time the Solomon Islander people are willing to spend at church. The Sunday service began at 8am with a full Prayer Book communion service, where all 1000 members of the church individually came forward to receive communion. Combined with extensive singing (they love singing!) alongside the lectionary readings (Old Testament, New Testament, gospel and psalm) and preaching, you can imagine that it was a lengthy service! 

By the time church finished, the service had gone for two hours. But we were not done! The police commissioner had come especially to address the congregation about the nation’s upcoming elections for another 45 minutes (which also shows the importance of church to local society – if government agencies want to pass on important public messages to reach the community, they come to church). 

After having breakfast together, everyone comes back in for Sunday school. Now, when we think about Sunday school, we probably think of a kids’ teaching program that runs during the church service (e.g. “kids’ church”). But for them Sunday school is all age groups, breaking into smaller groups and doing discipleship together – after church. They also come together as a group before and after the discipleship group times to sing together. During this time, they invited all 12 of us to individually address the whole Sunday school and share words of encouragement or testimony from the Scriptures. 

By the time the team left church, it was 2.45pm! 

It was a powerful indication of how much these church members valued meeting together as God’s people. 

As enjoyable as our time with the church had been, being from our evangelical church scene in Sydney, I found myself at points longing for efficiency and streamlining. Did the announcements need to be so repetitive or so long? Do all three of the police commissioners in attendance need to address the church? Did every single member of our 12-person team need to speak?

But having been part of churches where we obsess over limiting the service to 75 minutes, every single week (agonising about a sermon that is “over” by five minutes; an announcement that is a few minutes minutes too long; consistently eliminating or editing “good” interviews or testimonies to make it all fit), it was striking to see how long a congregation can actually concentrate when given the opportunity. It was a powerful indication of how much these church members valued meeting together as God’s people. 

They knew that it was for good things that they were meeting. So, they were willing to give each other the time without hesitation. 

This generosity of time was noticed everywhere we went. We were invited to address high school students at one of the diocese’s Anglican schools in an assembly. They allowed us to take questions from the students about living as a Christian teenager until 12.30pm. They only told us after our assembly was over that this was the last day of school before a week-long break and the school day should have ended at 12pm!

At no point did the teachers or the hundreds of students in attendance indicate that their time with us was wasted or unwelcome. There was no restlessness, no signalling to get us finished “on time”. If there were good things to hear, they were happy to keep going for as long as it took. 

Inclusive of children

Given the length of the church services that I just mentioned, it may be surprising to hear that children do not go out separately during the service for kids’ church. Children are expected to sit through the multiple-hour service without any special provision. There were no kids’ talks during the service or even kids’ packs with supplementary materials so that the kids take notes or colour in. 

As far as I could see, the only proviso for them is that they are able to sit together and can walk in and out of church as often as they like. Surprisingly, from my observation, kids did not seem to go out much, or as often as I thought they might. This high expectation in terms of their behaviour meant that many kids rose to the occasion. 

They truly were a part of the church.

Children’s presence within the service meant that they came forward with their parents during the 1000-person communion that I mentioned. The children that had not been confirmed were not given communion, but the minister stopped and prayed briefly with each child instead. 

It was clear that they were invited to come forward regardless of confirmation, and that this was very welcome. They truly were a part of the church. The only time they went into separate age groups was after the service during Sunday school. 

I cannot imagine how very long a day this is for the children, especially babies. But to my amazement even the littlest of children stayed, sleeping on parents’ arms, in prams, or even on a blanket spread out on the church floor during the wonderful but very boisterous singing! I admired their ability to sleep through practically anything. 

Sacrificial with service 

Many of the people we met in the churches were highly educated, having completed tertiary studies, often abroad – frequently in Australia. What was striking in conversing with these capable people was how many roles they played within their society, workplaces, church and home. 

One lady was a clerk in the High Court while running the hospitality and evangelistic outreach team at church. She also was helping to raise three children with her divorced sister. One gentleman was a police commissioner and an ordained Anglican minister. Another was an engineer for a government agency while also being the lay president for his church. 

Another man was a pharmacist and a village elder, building homes that housed hundreds of people. In his village, he had personally funded a medical clinic that was now an official area health service provider. 

I am sure there would be much more that I could have learned had I been able to stay longer.

An Australian couple that worked for the High Commission in the Solomon Islands confirmed that this is not unusual for Islanders with tertiary qualifications. Given the shortage of people with higher degrees, they often work multiple roles to ensure that their local area, church and families’ structures can be sustained. Further, despite holding multiple positions, they draw a salary for just one. 

The unassuming way these people selflessly served was both humbling and encouraging. When I tried to express my admiration for their hard work and service, they were either deeply embarrassed or dismissive of my compliments, seeing their great sacrifices as nothing out of the ordinary. Built into the core of their faith was the understanding that they were to serve others, sacrificially, and with joy. It was an expectation that they had of themselves.  

These observations are only a brief reflection after a short visit. I am sure there would be much more that I could have learned had I been able to stay longer. But I was profoundly grateful for the opportunity to learn from others. This is perhaps the greatest gift that the people of the Solomon Islands gave me – to help me to remember that there are always things to learn from each other. 

When in a new environment or meeting new people, it is easy to insist that our way is better and that any different way is wrong. But by doing so, we can limit mutual learning opportunities and close off potential for further conversations. 

I am thankful to God for our time in the Islands, where the learning was very much mutual, and very greatly edifying.

The Rev Susan An is Dean of Women at Moore College.