PIASS Remembers

To think of almost a million people being killed in just 100 days in 1994 is overwhelming. To stand at a mass grave and know that it holds over 30,000 people killed in just one day during that genocide is sobering. But to view photos of four students of PIASS and one faculty member and all 5 members of his family who were abducted from the campus and murdered, whose bodies have never been found, makes it personal. That was the remembrance at PIASS this weekend.

Students gathered on Saturday night for a candlelight vigil to remember those who were dragged from the campus.  There were speeches and reflections on how this happened and how it might be prevented from happening in the future. One of the professors here has written extensively on the subject and offered not only the weaknesses of life that led to this but also powerful suggestions on how to prevent it in the future. A time for questions and answers allowed time to process all the information. Members of the victims’ family were invited to participate and share their stories. That made the whole thing even more personal.

Sunday, a worship service and a march to the site of the abductions intensified the remembrance. The PIASS faculty gathered in full clerical garb and participated in the service. The sermon was a powerful reminder of the healing, forgiving, restoring nature of Christ in our lives. It was a call for us to take the step to embrace Christ’s redemptive grace and healing power in our lives. Once again, survivors told their stories, in the context of Christ’s work in their lives since 1994. Then everyone was invited to march to the student housing where the four students had been abducted. It was a solemn procession. One faculty member had been a student here at the time and was friends with the victims. He told of the students being powerless to stop a gang of men wielding machetes and dragging their friends away. Then he talked of the character and the gifts of the young men who were targeted for no other reason than having been born into the Tutsi tribe. We paused for a moment of silence and then prayer. From there the congregation proceeded to a memorial that has been built on the campus, to lay wreathes and once again offer prayer that this kind of thing may never happen again. It was a solemn time but also a personal time, since this was not about numbers that can overwhelm but about people who had great potential, who were wise and fun-loving and faithful but whose lives were cut short and whose bodies have never been recovered. Only their names and memories remain. But those memories call out that this may never happen again. That is the point of remembering.