As on that night, the heavens above Bethlehem will be brightly lit. Unfortunately, it will be different. The star of that night kept watch silently over the crib, acting as pathfinder for shepherds and wise men, leading them to the Child that was called the Prince of Peace and Saviour.
This time the light in Israel is qualitatively different. A bright and dramatic light show will be presented, lighting the dark heavens spectacularly with fire lines before colouring the horizon for a moment in a soft orange glow. It is the prequel to disaster, tragedy, fear, anxiousness, loss of life ... the worst of the worst. The angel choirs seem to be silenced by the growls and grunts of the heavy artillery. On that night the angels sang, ‘Peace on earth...’, but people infiltrated and destroyed that peace.
Just the other week a disillusioned man on board a ship in Gqeberha tells of the intense fear that accompanies ‘navigating the Red Sea’. Another pours out the story of the still angry war in the Ukraine that now suddenly involves Northern Korea too. He explains how it affects him and his family. How we all became slaves to the macro-political regimes! How can we not but feel dejected and exposed by the sadness of the bombs and total chaos surrounding us!
Therefore, once a year, we stand silently at the Child of the Manger - as the exact opposite of the story that all had been lost. As we receive men working at sea each day of the year, with love of the Man of the Cross, in our harbours - we will remind each man working at sea of the Child of the Manger during this Christmas time. We will remind them of angels singing the alternative, ‘Peace on earth...’!
Each held captive in the claws of fear, each that trusts us enough to share their stories - whether it relates to pirate attacks, marriages on the rocks, or the isolation on board the ship that throws them into depression - will have us to hear the assurance that the Child came to change the narrative.
The people of the sea are exposed, disproportionately, to the hazards of life - war, mental health or relationships. Being a person working at sea means a very complex life. You can strengthen our hands in this time, to ensure that each person visiting our harbours in this Christmas time would experience the Child of the Manger that came to change the narrative. It is a story of peace on earth, not only on a macro-political level, but also on a deep personal level. Please consider, also in prayer, to support the CSO’s work financially this Christmas!
Also - May you experience this Christmas that the Christ Child brought you peace too.
Banking details: ABSA Bank. Christelike Seemansorganisasie. Current. 1520-230-226.
In the early hours of the morning, he wakes up in the grips of an invisible monster. His breathing is shallow and fast. His thoughts run in chaotic circles. Suddenly every noise, every shadow and every thought is a deadly threat. For him it is a sign that something terrible is about to happen to someone close to him!
The pressure in his head is unbearable, like a heavy storm building up, but one that never breaks. He feels trapped, absolutely trapped. In the fight every moment is a battle to control - control his thoughts, his breathing, his heart and his body. Fear is cunning and sly.
Yet, after what feels like an eternity, he finds a return to the normal beat of his heart and a normal breathing rhythm. Later, as he reports for his daily tasks, the events of the night lie shallow in his memory. In the days that follow, before anchoring in Coega, he remains aware of the tentacles of the fear. These took hold like those of an octopus, blocking his mind and mood.
The days are spent battling alone, like a person drowning among a thousand people. He does not have the courage to share the feelings with fellow crew-members. He fears that any acknowledgement of his battle would lead to victimisation and that it would, eventually, be a disadvantage to any possible promotion.
In Coega harbour, on a Thursday afternoon, Danie arrives on the container ship, without any knowledge of each other and also not knowing that God already arranged an appointment between the two. What starts as small talk upon the first meeting, quickly changes into so much more. For the first time the First Officer can share his fears without being afraid of victimisation or stigma. He can tell someone about the monster in the dark. Danie listens with empathy and with God's power the Holy Ghost starts to untangle the octopus' tentacles systematically. It gives the First Officer a chance to breathe and new breath brings new perspective.
Later, when Danie leaves, the emotional First Officer cannot stop thanking him for being willing to listen. It is not a quick remedy. What Danie could offer will not rectify the situation with a snap of his fingers. His efforts cannot contain the monsters forever, but the love and hope of the Man on the Cross brought new perspectives. It helped a drowning man to surface for air, even for a few moments. In that first deep breath, following total darkness and fear, you see the possibility of survival. To continue on the road, to keep on walking, is the result of that first breath of fresh air. It determines lives.
The CSO's work is exactly that: to offer support for the men and women working at sea, those people that are away from home for weeks and months. We offer spiritual support and a safe space to share concerns and fear. Please, you can help us, with your donation, to strengthen our hands, allowing us to help these men and women when they need to surface for air.
It is Chris' fourth time in court. Over the previous six or seven weeks he tried to support the Indian seaman arrested and imprisoned in Westville in every possible way.
From where Chris watches the court proceedings, sitting on a small court bench, he watches the man that he got to know better over the past weeks, as he enters the court. His body is taught with fear and anxiety. The anxious body language is clear and he fears the verdict of the proceedings.
How can one blame him? He finds himself in a foreign country where he has no one, locked up in a terrible and cold cell, sharing the small space with thieves, crooks and drunkards. Every second is a frightful nightmare.
It is often said, jokingly, that all in prison are really victims and that they are really innocent. In his case it is actually true. He was arrested with one of his colleagues because of immigration problems. The owner of the ship that they joined is of questionable character and did not use a shipping agent to allow them to join the ship in the correct or normal way. Their legal representative is truly angry and makes no bones about telling all that are willing to listen that the men are nothing more than pawns in human trafficking. Their biggest mistake was to be trapped in a situation based on promises of work. The promised work would help them and their families to escape the curse of poverty. They have nothing.
The tension in the accused's body could also relate to the fact that his colleague had been sentenced unceremoniously, at the second hearing, for one year of imprisonment.
In court another drama unfolds. The owner sent a lawyer and now the lawyers are fighting each other to each get his own way. Then, in one sentence the judge throws out the case. Seven weeks of hell ends with a single phrase.
Chris and the legal representative wait outside for the seaman. He walks out with a soul in rags and tatters, but bows in front of them and touches each ankle lightly with his fingers. It seems that this is an Indian tradition to thank them for their help and support. It is a moment that cannot be described in words. More good news is that his colleague was about to be released too. They have nothing more to show than the emotional damage suffered. They remain dirt poor and still need to be rescued.
Chris' involvement was never merely to free them from prison, but also to show them the care and love of Christ that can help to secure their freedom from guilt and sin. It is your donation that helps us to do this and that donation will help us to continue to do so. Thank you so, so much for that.
EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226.
'Ringleader' would be a perfect description. He is small of stature, but has a wild shock of hair and a life-size personality. That personality makes him king of the dining area, commanding it as if it is his own kingdom. You cannot miss him. He is friendly, warm, self-assured, full of energy, loud and all try to be close to hear the wisecracks and practical jokes. He is a main character on the ship, even though his rank is much lower than that of many of his fellow crew members.
He also takes care of Danie - makes sure Danie has something to eat and drink, that he gets sustenance in the middle of the day. When all are fed, the men leave the area one by one. The last man standing? None other than Adrian.
He starts talking about this and that - small talk. Then, very slowly, the barriers start to tumble. There is a very different man behind the mask of the jolly joker that Danie first met. The ringleadership tends to be a little pretence, although it does not detract from the honesty. The rest of the crew clearly enjoys the ringleader and they tap energy from this. His personality is a gift that allows people at the table to talk and enjoy the time together. There is so much more to Adrian than the eternal joker that everybody knows...
Adrian tells of fear, extreme loneliness in spite of the huge following surrounding him. He explains about feeling small and overwhelmed on the giant ship and majestic oceans. By his own admission, the shock of hair and being the joker are only ways to make him feel bigger, stronger and more in control.
Danie's visit is an opportunity to let go, a rare chance to just be without pretence, without worrying about making jokes and trying to entertain everyone else. Danie's visit and their chat provide, for a moment, the rest beside the calm waters of Psalm 23. They read together from the new Tagalog Bible that Danie gives him. Danie also marks Psalm 139 and Isaiah 43 for him. They pray together - for calm, for not being afraid, for the constant awareness within Adrian that the God of Isaiah 43 remains with him, every single moment. When they say goodbye, Danie also gives him his number so that he knows that there is someone to reach out when things begin to feel overwhelming.
It is so often so - also for us ... the fear and the loneliness are hidden behind barriers. If each of us only had a chance to talk to someone every now and then, to feel the calm waters of Psalm 23, to catch our breaths, to recover for a moment.
Men working at sea do so in extremely difficult circumstances. They could have this access to someone if you continue to strengthen our hands with your financial support. Please consider, also in your prayers, helping us to continue to support Adrian and every seaman that needs us to be there and serve them.
EFT. Bank account: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.
The PSD’s story shows twist after twist. The CSO has been involved with the decrepit wreck, now anchored in the Durban harbour, for almost half a decade. Conditions on board are inhumane and terrible. Two Indian crew members, Mahesh* and Arjun*, try to survive on a ship without basic necessities such as electricity and water. A sporadic charitable payment by the owner is way too little and charity from others keeps the two men alive.
They are not the first two men on board. Time and time again another hopeful new face, reflecting big dreams, arrives on the quay from India or Pakistan, only to find out it was a lie. They were conned and they become immediate captives. Going home is not an option. They have nothing and therefore no other choice - they have to stay. Long, extended legal processes, driven by organisations such as the CSO, finally become their only lifelines to create possible escape from exile.
Time and time again the new faced tell that they paid their agents up to U$4000 for work on a ship. It is blood money - human trade! They would have had to borrow the money from somewhere, planning to repay the loan once on board the ship. In some cases they mortgage the parents’ small piece of land - an act that could uproot and destroy a family completely. A whole family’s dreams and hopes vest in the seaman and they are willing to risk everything they have to secure a better future.
Last week, Chris visits the ship again. Their mobile chargers were left in the care of the security personnel at the gate. By now Chris knows the security staff by name and the men report that the two have been gone for a few days. Chris turns detective and finally gets in contact with a previous crew member. He reports that the two are in jail.
Chris’ search leads him from the Durban Central Police Station to other possibilities. It seems that one of the men was there, but he had to appear in court. Chris follows the crumbs to the Westville Prison. Finally he finds them in jail in Umzinto. One of them had been found guilty and already serves a year’s sentence. It had to do with their immigration documents. The case of the second man was postponed to find an interpreter. He stands dejected and disillusioned in court. How did things deteriorate to this point? Chris can only hope that he would be deported, but fears a similar lot as that of his friend.
Meanwhile Chris is all that they have here in South Africa. Just as the CSO has been caring for years, looking after seamen that are being exploited mercilessly, Chris will do everything in his power to get them out from behind bars. He will continue to support them unconditionally, with the love and hope that we learn from the Man of the Cross.
Your donation is a lifeline for Mahesh and Arjun. Do not underestimate the value of that. Thank you so much for strengthening our hands to look after those that some consider the least of the least.
EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226.