By Pastor Wondimu Sonessa
At the age of 12, I had to travel on foot with my dad to our zonal capital called Mettu to get to a photo studio. This tiresome whole day commute was mandatory to submit four 3×4 photos required to register for sixth grade national exam.
I still remember mixed feelings stemming from that experience. On the one hand, it was such a joy to be one among hundreds of thousands Ethiopian sixth-graders who would sit for the exam at the end of the year. On the other hand, it was a devastating experience for a twelve-year-old child to travel the mountainous East African road in January, the hottest month of the year.
My dad and I started the journey early in the morning and travelled 53 kilometers (km) without seeing anyone traveling in the same direction. Finally, we came to a small town called Nopha where we stopped for lunch and to rest a while. I wish we spent a night there and continued the remaining 12 km the next day. But my dad was determined that we would arrive at our destination before it got dark.
“It is believed that getting someone to travel with you makes a long journey shorter.”
Therefore, we resumed our journey. As we were departing that small town, a man joined us. He greeted my dad and asked him whether we were going to Illubabor—which is the name of a zonal administration region where I come from. My dad confirmed. The man smiled and said, “So we are milto (miiltoo),” which is the Oromo term for a traveling company. He added, “As they say, two broken pieces are fixed on each other,” which is a popular saying by which strangers who meet on the road recognize each other as a traveling company or milto.
It is believed that getting someone to travel with you makes a long journey shorter. In fact, as travelers often take turn-to-tell stories, they get to their destination without feeling tired. Indeed, what was an enjoyable two-hour travel for the two adults was the scariest one dominated by a feeling of forgottenness and loneliness for me. My dad and his milto were walking too fast for me to catch up. As it was a market day, people returning from the market often blocked me from seeing my miltos; fear of strangers made the last hours of my day so horrible. My dad and his milto were intentional in this to keep me jogging behind them toward our destination.
AS WE WERE GETTING CLOSE to our destination, they slowed down so that I could catch up with them. As I was approaching them, I saw a big river on the right side of the street. As we together as milto were crossing over the bridge to the other side of the river, my dad told me that it is Sor River. I immediately remembered my social science class (maybe in fifth grade) where I learned about this river that provides electric power to the zonal capital called Mettu — our destination where there is the photo studio.
After the whole day of traveling on foot, we arrived at where I could see not just the river I heard about, but also the electric light it provides. I was filled with joy. Although I was very tired, I was eager to enter the city of Mettu and see how the light makes life easier for the city people at night.
Getting to the other side of the river, we turned to the right side of the bridge where we rested a while and washed our feet. Suddenly, our milto opened his bag and shared his snack with us, which strengthened me to walk up the hill and enter the city. Immediately, we visited a photo studio, and a photographer took my picture.
I FOUND IT INTERESTING to integrate this childhood experience of mine with the incident Luke narrates pertaining to the twelve-year-old Jesus traveling to Jerusalem with his parents for the annual festival of the Passover (Luke 2:41-51). When the festival was over, his parents started to return and traveled for a day without realizing that the boy Jesus stayed behind. They assumed that he was with “the group of travelers.”
The Greek Bible uses the term synodia (συνοδίᾳ), which means “a traveling company, group of travelers, caravan,” … or milto (if I am allowed to add). It is formed by combining the preposition syn (which means “with, together”) with a root word hodos (which means “way, journey”). The amalgamation of these two terms gives as the word synodos (synod), which denotes “a journeying together, a company of fellow-travelers.”
“Our gatherings for worship, conferences assemblies, synod assembly, and Churchwide assembly send out the message to the world that we are synodia together. We are partners on the road, the milto that share strengths and weaknesses.”
The Christian church refers to the union of its congregations as a synod, not just to rescue the biblical term but also to reclaim the spirit of belonging and togetherness that characterizes early Christianity. Today, the common faith and confession bring us together as synodia.
Our gatherings for worship, conferences assemblies, synod assembly, and Churchwide assembly send out the message to the world that we are synodia together. We are partners on the road, the milto that share strengths and weaknesses. A strong synod is the outcome of healthy relationships and well-connected congregations.
As milto/synodia, we are imperfect, the distorted image bearers, and the broken pieces which need to be fixed on each other. We are called to share our gifts, experiences, resources, and visions to reach our destination together. This may not require signing a covenant, but a slowing down and humble attitude of the mature and stronger ones among us in order that we be reachable and comfortable for others to travel with.
The younger ones are also expected to keep jogging to catch up so that God’s mission may progress forward without hindrance. Whenever we contribute to the expansion of God’s kingdom through sharing worship space, writing a check for mission support funding, being a fiscal agent for the new starts, committing to partner with the strategic ministries, engaging in ecofaith stories or faith and neighboring practices, we testify that we are the synodia.