The Mission

standing notably tall

above corrugated iron and tyres

the green head blows proud 

in this place of shade where my

children swing safely in branches

to and fro, to and fro, to and fro

when hungry I reach for low hanging fruit 

then climb branches for a view, 

away from my flat life 

to picnic with honest friends 

allowing ants crawl over ankles 

and bees balance on bottle rims

there I lean back on the trunk 

to make myself feel young

against seed planted years ago 

by missionaries who loved us

their roots far below 

stuck down firm in 

the mud of our lives 

soaking up our spirit 

into things earthy and eternal

here I taste the fruit of my ancestors 

they who dug the hole 

and danced with joy 

that I may lie here and hear my children 

sweetly swinging, sweetly swinging

* The mission brings health to a community once devastated by HIV/AIDS but now bearing stories of hope

Christmas comes to Mpophomeni

I have shared on this blog before my involvement with the HIV/AIDS mission in Mphophomeni, a town outside of Howick. Yesterday, when asking the group what stopped them praying one of the answers was "self image." The manner in which this person said this I realized that there was great significance or lack of it in her answer. She struggled to pray because she felt insignificant. At that moment Luke's account of the coming of Jesus flooded into my mind and I was able to share how Jesus was born in the most insignificant places amongst the most insignificant people and I felt the spirit of Christmas flood into that room like I have never felt before. I think it is those who know they have little who are most surprised by Christmas.
It would be great to hear any stories or experiences where you have felt the true spirit of Christmas.

Praying through a Crisis

I don't know about you but have you ever felt worse after praying
through an event that has left you depressed, anxious or broken?
Sometimes by going to pray we can actually worsen the impact of this
event in us if we are not careful. By going into a a time of prayer
we may inadvertently spend too much time on the event itself and it
becomes more of an obsession than a time of healing and freedom. The
Catholic writer Ronald Rolheiser says, "Prayer is focus on God, not
upon ourselves". The image of a mother and child helps us understand
this. The child is hurt and when it goes to her mother the
overwhelming presence and love of that mother is the comfort and the
healing they receive. The problem so often with us is that we go to
pray and spend more time churning over the event that we don't receive
the healing of the mother. I suppose this is where the discipline of
private worship is so important. I am going to try this the next time
I have a speed wobble with somebody or some issue. I will endeavour
to spend more time worshiping God in prayer than fixating on my
emotions and feelings. I am convinced it will not be easy but I am
also convinced it is the truth.

Ghost Park - Poem

Down on the plain the buffalo ghosts

graze in midday sun.

Higher on the plateau amongst the acacia,

giraffe necks sway transparent

in timeless azure.

The river snakes down the basin

to where the hippo’s are dead rocks,

still, as water passes.

Elephant shapes are a sight for sore eyes

as the herd disappears over the intrepid ridge,

and if one squints your eyes tight,

so tight you can barley see,

the shadow of the lion lies there

lazying under the tree

in the African mirage.

*Gazing over the basin formed by the Drakensburg mountains one can only imagine what used to be.

My Rainbow - Frank Meintjies

I read a poem by a South African poet Frank Meintjies yesterday that gave me a haunting sense of where many of those I taught on Wednesday were at. There were 13 folks listening intently as I shared the hope we have in Christ and how this transforms ones living. All of them HIV/AIDS clients at Masibumbane mission. They were all on my mind when I read this poem. I will just quote it in parts as I don't think it is legit to copy it all:

" on better days

my rainbow is your smile

more

frequently, my rainbow bleeds...

my rainbow's sharp edges

cut

as i try to pick it up

deep patterning

its marks

on the palm of my heart

my rainbow is a purple bruise

slowy

sluggishly regaining

the colour of living flesh"

They are such lovely, smiling people, but I know as I try to encourage them and lift them up, their hurts and past wounds will cut me and make my heart bleed. But, when they smile it is my rainbow of hope.

Stories work

I spoke about using pictures when teaching at Masibumbane (HIV mission) but I have learnt that stories work even better. I was teaching on 'Grace' and what that meant to about ten clients who volunteer to be there. I began with a story I adapted from "Companions in Christ" about a boy who was given a catapult by his father and told not to kill any birds. It was great fun, I acted out this story of a boy in the township who was told how he wasn't allowed to shoot any chickens or goats with the sling and then a big white chicken strutted in front of him and thinking he was a bad shot he couldn't resist picking up a stone and whamo he hits the chicken. Remorseful he climbs into his bed all tearful and dreading his fathers return. His father comes to his bed but instead of a sjambok (whip) he comes with forgiveness and turns the day into a lesson. It was such fun, they laughed and got into the story and from then on it was no problem explaining grace. We know these things but when we see them work it just drives it all home.

Cathedral with a difference

Cathedral

My cathedral of soft walls,

creation, a sacrament taken

with no words from a hymnal

or sermon to convince.

Just the whispering of wind,

the whistle of a duck,

the sip of the swallow and

the splash of spoonbill

is the unpracticed choir

that moves my soul.

The willow and I dip thirsty

straws to the depths of this sacred place,

longing to be quenched by

the spring of dreams.

This membrane thin between

earth and heaven, is where I am.

My offering to such can only be

to breathe, write and proclaim.

* Creation is a true place of worship

No sermon week

For those who prepare sermons every week will identify. I am not preaching a sermon or preparing for any service this Sunday. Now, for those who don't identify, preachers don't just get up on Sunday morning and think up what they are to say before breakfast. It may seem this way (hopefully not) but the preparation for a sermon can take a full day to prepare or a few days depending on how you do it. The best for me is to allow it to brew on Monday or Tuesday and then each day to return with fresh ideas. This is the ideal, it usually gets done on Thursday or Friday. I personally cannot allow a sermon to wait until Saturday or else my nerves give in. Blah, blah, blah what I am really saying is I have time to do other things in the ministry that get sidelined. Roll on week....

fading friends

solitude lost

when making new found friends

the lichened rock

the mossy grass

the angel

the eagle

otter

and ORIBI - fading friend

* going to nature is not a solitude it is the meeting of new friends and friends soon to be lost

lemon birds

once adrenaline-bungee

rave

crazed

eyes

watch patiently through sparkling lens

the multi flowers dressing

dust drowsy suns and lemon birds

whilst metronome rocks receive the waters lapping

*nature tends to ease the need for adrenaline seeking entertainment

sparrow man

sparrow man am i,

nothing but my thoughts to read,

my mind to quiz,

to realize that i am, just me.

quietness the tutor,

the frail and vulnerable

creature small,

i am,

me

* this ceramic sparrow is always on my desk. it reminds me of my size in the universe. it reminds me of what is greater in the creator's domain

A beatitude of a world

It is that place where the poor in spirit, the humble, are encouraged and uplifted as the teachers and trend setters.
A place where those who have mourned and grieved the injustices of this world will be comforted and consoled by the hope of it happening no more.
A place where the quite and the gentle people will have the chance to reign and rule the way of the world.
A place where people who search to live closely with their Creator will find their fulfillment in becoming what they seek.
A place where forgiveness, compassion and mercy will not be ideals but the actual practice of humankind.
A place where those who have pure and innocent motives will be the architects of world politics.
A place where all who fought for what was right, good and beautiful will find the fruit of all their labour materialize.

*Part of a sermon I'm preaching for a Remembrance Day service. The beatitudes paint the dream of a whole new world order.

Extravagant Generosity

Thought I would use the concept of an abstract to help conceptualize my sermon for Sunday. So here goes:

Extravagant Generosity

Abstract:

Generosity may not be what you think. Generosity is not just digging into your wallet and handing over money to a needy cause. Generosity is about living in such a way that is generous to the planet and thus others. Generosity is about building new community that shares life and sustains life. Generosity is a spiritual condition that is fed by the extravagance of God’s generosity. Generosity is a means of grace, a spiritual discipline. Generosity is the mother of forgiveness, mercy and offering. Generosity is at times spontaneous but mostly it is a sacrifice of the will.

Preparing for Remembrance Service

Getting myself together for a Remembrance service on Sunday. I was browsing through an anthology of poems entitled '101 poems against war' and I was reminded of this one that speaks volumes into our responsibility when it comes to defending others . What goes around comes around and what happens when it eventually comes around to our doorsteps. It also touches on the fact that there is no passive position in war, no action equals action, we are accepting the status quo.

First they came for the Jews.
But I didn't speak up because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the communists.
But I didn't speak up because I was not a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists.
But I didn't speak up because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Catholics.
But I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant.

Then they came for me.
And by that time one was left to speak up.

(Written supposedly by a U-boat captain Pastor Martin Niemoller)

Teaching in pictures

Last week I started my first teaching session at Masibumbane. (Masibubane is a Methodist HIV mission that runs from Mpophomeni)
I am working with a great guy by the name of Duduzi. I am helping him in the spiritual growth & development part of the mission. On Wednesdays I have the privilege of conveying the message of hope to the clients of the mission. I have started by drawing pictures on the blackboard that relate to the scriptures, we then read the relevant scripture and use the pictures to draw the meaning out in ways that are memorable. The critical aspect of this ministry is to help Christian spiritually be a reality and not some disconnected part of their lives. To help them realize that their lives are important and can add value to the relationships around them. If anybody has material that could assist us we would be most appreciative.

Two seasons in one

Good morning, yes, the morning is good.  

I ranted and raved yesterday morning in my half sleep state after a dire meeting concerning the circuit in PMB. When I send a blog it goes rocketing into my facebook account and I thought I would remove it from there as my experience is that 'real' feelings are often divorced from these social platforms. 

Thanks for listening to my groans and pains.  Sometimes one has to be honest with your feelings and not put on the mask of respectability we prize so much. 

By doing so I received the greatest of gifts.  I received emails from old time friends that were most encouraging and wise.  I want to thank you for you love and your support even after these many years - love you all.  

Just to say, I am so encouraged by the local church in Hilton.  Just before the ghastly meeting I mentioned I had been in a Society Steward's meeting that was so alive and ready to fulfill mandate of the Spirit.  It was such a contrast to then walk slap bang into a age old personality church controversy issue later on.  So the sun does shine, the seasons often being two in one and I will take my slingshot faith and slay that Goliath. I love my name.  

Mourning to Morning

I literally weep for the church this morning. We are so lost at times that one wonders how God persists with us. 

John Wesley's dreadful fear that Methodist's would ever become a dead sect was realized in a Circuit Quarterly Meeting last night. 

"I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power. And this undoubtedly will be the case unless they hold fast both the doctrine, spirit, and discipline with which they first set out."

I am not going to go into any details as this will not help anybody but I just express my feelings - broken, disappointed, angry, powerless. 

But, there is always a but in the Christian faith, the risen Lord lives in the hearts of his people and will rise up and have the last word.  As the Psalmist wrote: " My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning."  (130:6)

Books - our friends

I am so enjoying John Van der Laar's book "The hour that changes everything". All those involved in worship ought to read this and gain a new depth in how worship transcends the mundane bringing new perspective on life. John brings theological depth to a subject that may seem cliched in some circles.

It also provides great resource for small groups, sermons, personal devotions etc.

My next reads are can you believe it a Bill Hybels book called "Just walk across the room." I have a nature that stays clear of hype and popular church expressions but I know I am prejudiced and need to hear what God is doing in these circles. Then I have Ronald Rolheiser a Catholic author that I have only recently discovered, this book is called "Forgotten among the lilies - learning to love beyond our fear." The previous one I read was an extremely well presented theological reflection on loneliness in the human psyche and helped me appreciate that this is the sole consequence of human sinfulness.

May we continue to be stretched in wider community than our own.

A new future

I have been wrestling with the joys of ministry, minister's retreats and fitting in my long leave. 

Writing routines have been rather broken of late but I am still around for those like Delme who keep reminding me I have not written a post in awhile. 

What inspires me to write this morning is a meeting our circuit (group of church's) had last night.  I only slipped into my warm and cozy bed at 11:30pm but there was a glow around me and here I sit at 5:30am awake and ready for take off.  The reason is that decisive and clear decisions were made to see certain parts of the church die in Pietermaritzburg in the hope of it rising from the ashes (or should I say grave?).  The old proverb of the people perishing if there is no vision was witness in reverse last night.  It felt as if somebody barren for many years whispered in my ear - "Guess what, I have fallen pregnant".  To think I would feel this about the Circuit? One will go through all pains to see birth of a new child.  May the proposal of joining the two inner city church's be a blessing to all.   

Christianity in flames if Quran burns

Some advocates of the Church are clearly not humble enough to recognize that their reading of scripture and interpretation of the faith is in part. None of us have a complete and holistic theological viewpoint. The recent call to burn the Quran on the eve of 9/11 has rightly stirred condemnation worldwide. The brother concerned might not have read the beatitudes in awhile which in my book clearly advocates that we become peacemakers. Pastor Terry Jones, please we beg you not to go ahead with the burning of those Qurans. Jesus moved us away from an “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” toward seeking no revenge but loving our neighbour and our enemy. In Christ the cycle of retribution is broken, may our religion not be the cause of more violence. For God’s sake. (Just heard as I send this blog that he has called it off - Thank Terry, you have done the right thing.)