“James Butler Bonham-No picture of him exist. This portrait is of his nephew Major James Bonham, now deceased, who greatly resembles his uncle. It was placed here by his family that people might know the appearance of the man who died for freedom.”
I read this, years ago, and it impacted me greatly. I have used the illustration many times to illustrate how we should be so like Christ that someone could say the same about us…
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth, no photograph of him exists. This portrait of________________________________, was placed here so that those who see it, may know the image of what a Disciple of Christ looks like.”
I thought of the same thing while visiting the building that Tommy Head and I built together some eleven years ago in Pucallpa, Peru. I have had the chance to visit the building many times…but had never been inside the structure since the day we finished it….that is…until the other day.
I went there with a team of friends from Biker Church in Florence, South Carolina. As Juan Carlos, our guide, began the tour he said as he smiled at me, “This is a building that Tommy and Wick built some years ago.” That was all it took to snap my mind back to those twenty-one days in 1999 that it took to build the structure with a group of Indians whom I still know and consider dear friends.
“Now let’s go in,” Juan Carlos said, “But I need you to be quiet, because the people in here are working very hard to translate the Bible into several languages, also, before we go any further, please take your shoes off.” I swallowed hard.
A chill went over me as we stepped forward, I thought I heard the belly laugh that only Tommy Head could make after sucking in a draw of air through a half closed grin. Familiar voices of the other men like David, Ricardo, Tito and Oscar that worked on this very structure, with T and me, so many years ago, filled my mind. I hardly spoke any Spanish then, but laughs and smiles go a long way on a construction site as I was learning this crazy new language.
Tommy never lifted a hammer, or touched a shovel. Our agreement was that he would be the logistics man and keep us stocked with material to build with and food to eat…at that…he was a pro.
I learned much in those days and now standing in the building for the first time after all these years was like stepping into a time capsule. I would have never understood the significance of what we were doing at the time…even if I would have known that this very building was going to be used to assist in the translating of the Bible. I have learned much about missions since that day.
Juan Carlos stood beside the small short bookcase of Theological books that were used to help in the translation work, I thought, “I have more books in my own library.” We moved forward, on the left was a lady working on a translation, on the right a group of people, native and international were working on another translation. At the end and on the left men and woman were working on a tribal language of Peru and finally in the end room on the right a small man with thick glasses sat in front of an old computer screen. His feet hardly touched the ground as he sat in a plastic chair, the kind we would use in a back yard cookout. Behind him sat another young man, maybe nineteen, who had a laptop that he used to assist in the work. These two men were not just working on translation of a new Bible for a tribe…they were working on the creation of it.
This particular tribe has of yet gotten a written language. It has always been a verbal language…no letters exist in its language. Before the Bible can be translated, they must create the letters of the language. The room of the small building that Tommy and I and four Indians built many years ago was being used to communicate the gospel. To reach people I would never meet this side of eternity. To change eternity. I found myself reflecting again and hearing voices of my friends and hearing Tommy laugh quietly this time and he asked me, “Aint that cool bubba?” I answered him and had to step outside to get some air.
As I did, I was shocked to see Glenn, the younger brother of Tommy. Many folks think that they look very much alike. Glenn makes quite a stir when he visits Pucallpa, Peru and the people that knew Tommy come up to speak to the brother of the man they loved and remember with great admiration. I must admit, that the quick glance of him caught me off guard as I stepped around the corner to go outside. I saw him silhouetted in the doorway by the early morning sun. I could hear T…a short snort and then laughing again.
Glenn turned to face me. I too, realized just how much he and Tommy resembled one another. As we talked about Tommy, and how he would have liked the tour today, we also remembered how much we still miss him…and probably will until we all go home.
I asked someone nearby if they could take a photo of the two of us…they agreed. A few minutes later…when I had some time to take in what was happening with this very small building…in a very large universe…I looked at the photo of Glenn and me standing together…and I thought immediately of the friend that could no longer stand with me and of his brother who still could…one that resembled him so very much.
I thought once again of the inscription on the wall so many years ago at The Alamo. These are the thoughts that came to me…
“This is a photo of Glenn Head, the younger brother of Tommy Head. No photo of Tommy exists with this important little building on a small base in Pucallpa, Peru. A photo of Glenn was taken so that those who look on it may see the likeness of a man who loved life and the people that crossed his path.”
God is Sovereign…In Pucallpa, Peru…Wick Jackson
That is beautiful Wick.
ReplyDeleteVery moving Mr. Jackson.
ReplyDeleteJason Madeline