Still thinking about hospitality

Lest you think I've abandoned my thinking about hospitality, I'm posting a blog I read this morning. It's very fitting.  You likely know that a ruptured Achilles tendon has jarred my life and schedule. It's time for me to slow down a bit.
Not. Easy.
But I know I have much to learn in this season of being more vulnerable and dependent. My prayer is that I will lean a little more into the pain and challenges of weakness, so as to understand more deeply the suffering of others, and of Christ - for my sake.
Shalom.
Ruth

The blog - Don't Eat Alone

better reception

Last night, the Red Sox lost their last home game of the season. We have six away games left -- three with the Orioles and then three with the Yankees -- and then our season will be over. We will finish with a losing record for the first time in fifteen years. If Toronto continues to oblige, we may be able to avoid finishing last.

The lectionary passage from last Sunday seems well chosen for the end of the baseball season:

And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.”

In seasons such as this, I wish it worked that way in baseball. Between the Red Sox descent, the rise of ridiculous rhetoric in the election cycle, and my continued thoughts about our time in Tuscany, the passage has hung with me. What I quoted here was only a segment of the passage (Mark (:30-37) that began with Jesus making a prediction about his death. Mark’s economic prose doesn’t make it clear if the discussion of the pecking order grew out of that prediction, or if the struggle over superiority had kept them from hearing anything he had said to that point. Either way, they missed said point because they were so taken with themselves. Jesus moves them to the back of the metaphorical bus and then picks up a kid (I suppose one was nearby) and said, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me,” as though that cleared everything up.

You have to wonder what the kid thought about it all.

Though his admonition to servanthood is what is most often pulled from this passage, I’m intrigued by the verb in the last sentence: receive. Whoever receives a child in my name, receives me. It’s not about importance; it’s about hospitality. Who wants to come to dinner where the hosts begins by saying, “I brought you all here tonight to remind you I matter most.” But to be received -- welcomed, included, brought in. Now we’re on to something.

And notice the verb that doesn’t show up in the sentence: deserve.

Some years ago, my friend Billy and I wrote a song called “The Last in Line.” The first verse said,

the last in line doesn’t ever make the team
doesn’t get a second chance
doesn’t find a field of dreams
the last in line doesn’t get a special prize
doesn’t ever hear his name
you don’t look him in the eyes
nobody wants to be the last in line

In our election climate, every candidate at every level, it seems, is required to pay homage to the fact that we are the greatest country in the history of the world. We’re Number One. U-S-A. U-S-A. I wonder who we are trying to convince, or why we feel compelled to make the point every chance we get? We are much like the disciples on the road with Jesus: too caught up in ourselves to hear the rest of the conversation.

The central part of the town of Lucca, where we were in Tuscany, is a medieval city still surrounded by the old city walls. As we drove one day, I saw ruins of an old aqueduct. The people of Italy live out their lives on top of and among the ruins of greatness and seem quite content to be an also-ran, if you will. Yes, they have their problems. But they didn’t seem to be keeping score. I was there for ten days, so I won’t claim to have a handle on the Italian cultural psyche. Maybe I’d do better to say I understood life differently among the ruins. No one stays Number One forever. Five falls ago, the Red Sox were World Series champions. And so it goes . . . .

The sports metaphor falls short, however, when Jesus starts talking about receiving the child (though I suppose I could switch to football . . .) because hospitality is not about what anyone deserves or has accomplished. Jesus brought the little one into the circle and said, “Receive her and you’ll see God with new eyes.” And we will see ourselves differently, too.We spend most of our American conversation around who deserves what or who is getting what they don’t deserve, or why I deserve to keep what’s mine and perhaps take some of what’s yours since you don’t deserve it as much. We get upset when other countries seem weary of our self-promotion. Perhaps we would do well to notice we are almost the only ones who feel compelled to keep proving we’re Number One. Or maybe simply come to terms with the truth that it just doesn’t matter.

What matters is how we welcomed one another, fed one another, included one another. Loved. One. Another. In her sermon Sunday, Ginger reminded us that such an approach to life and faith gets “messy and smelly.” Yes. When we move beyond the dichotomy of winner and losers and begin to receive one another, life gets smelly and messy and requires us to think about most every encounter, rather than lean on categories and cliches.

As Mark recounted beyond the lectionary passage, the disciples responded with a “yes, but,” asking about the other guy in town who was casting out demons. Jesus told them to receive him as well. Start with what brings us together. Start there. Now stay and receive whomever we can find. Doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as easily as “We’re Number One,” which is fine.

We’re not.

Peace,
Milton

Adjusting to Home

It's good to be home. I've said it countless times since Feb 23 when we arrived back in Grand Rapids. And I mean it. But that doesn't capture everything I'm feeling of course. It's also hard to be home because it means we've turned the page on some beauty and adventure that will slowly but certainly fade into distant memory, and on some precious time spent with inspiring people and cherished friends. This sabbatical was a gift we did not take for granted. We embraced it with a lot of hope and joy and thoughtfulness and the fruits of it were very good indeed, and will continue to provide fodder for reflection and encouragement for the ongoing ministry journey.

So, I guess what I want to say is that I am filled with gratitude for the tremendous blessing sabbatical was to us and now pray for God to give us glimpses of hope and glory that are around us here.

On Sunday the children at Neland Church will wave palm branches and sing "Hosannah" to the King of kings and Lord of lords. Quite sure I'll get a glimpse of glory there.

My prayer is that the reign of Christ and the love he demonstrated on the cross may be manifested in Christ's church, in us - so that the world will know that God, from whom all goodness flows, is full of grace and truth. Hosannah in the highest. Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord!

Long Walk To Freedom

Since we've been in South Africa, I've been trying to speed read my way through Nelson Mandela's, Long Walk To Freedom. It's massive and weighty and often deeply disturbing. But it's also hopeful. Let me share three excerpts toward the end of the book that I found particularly moving. By the way, last week we were in Port Elizabeth which is the area of Mandela's childhood. This week we are staying in a friend's place outside of Capetown and tomorrow will visit Robben Island, where Mandela spent most of his 27 year imprisonment. He was released on February 11, 1990.

Not long after his release, Mandela went on a six-week long journey to Europe and North America. After meeting with Canada's Prime Minister Mulroney, the small jet carrying Mandela, stopped for refueling in a remote place north of the Arctic Circle called Goose Bay. He writes,

" I felt like having a walk in the brisk air, and as I was strolling on the tarmac, I noticed some people standing by the airport fence. I asked a Canadian official who they were. 'Eskimos,' he said. In my seventy two years on earth I had never met an Innuit, and never imagined that I would. I headed over to that fence and found a dozen or so young people in their late teens who had come out to the airport because they had heard our plane was going to stop there. As a boy I had read about the Innuit (the name 'Eskimo' was given to them by the colonists), and the impression I received was that they were a very backward people. But in talking with these bright young people, I learned that they had watched my release on television and were familiar with events in South Africa. 'Viva, ANC!' one of them said."

I'm not sure exactly why, but I find this little story hopeful. Perhaps it's the politically engaged young people or the solidarity found among those with similar struggles. It also affirms Mandela's character as a leader who relentlessly tried to stay connected to "the people."

In reflecting on his inauguration, Mandela writes about his belief that transformation was happening in his country not only because of great political heroes, but because of the courage of ordinary men and women.

"I always knew that deep down in every human heart, there was mercy and generosity. No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love....Even in the grimmest times in prison, when my comrades and I were pushed to our limits, I would see a glimmer of humanity in one of the guards, perhaps just for a second, but it was enough to reassure me and keep me going."

Mandela concludes his amazing memoir with these words,

"[T]o be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others......I have walked that long road to freedom. I have tried not to falter; I have made missteps along the way. But I have discovered that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance I have come. But I can rest only for a moment, for with freedom come responsibilities, and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended."



Again, here are a few photos. Some are of beautiful landscapes here in SA. Some are of my husband, who has given me so much support and freedom in this time of sabbatical. I must say, he has done a marvelous job of driving me around unfamiliar places in South Africa, on the left side of the road, with the steering wheel on the right and manual stick shift on the left. What a guy!

Hope and hospitality.

"I understand hospitality as the practice of God’s welcome, embodied in our actions as we reach across difference to participate with God in bringing justice and healing to our world in crisis." Letty M Russel, in her book - Just Hospitality

I would change this definition of hospitality only slightly and add "hope" to what we bring to our world as we practice hospitality.

Two bright themes threaded throughout our African journey, perhaps not surprisingly, have indeed been hope and hospitality. Our time with the Gimbas in Mozambique, was no exception.

Istifanus and Esther Gimba fetched us at the Lilongwe airport. Soon we were on a trek toward their home in Tete. We cannot say enough about their welcome and embrace and the excellent food we enjoyed. Yet, "a world in crisis" was also a theme that could not be ignored.

Some of you know that the Gimbas are Nigerian. While we were with them in Mozambique terrible atrocities were acted out in Nigeria and they were receiving frequent messages from home requesting fervent prayer for their families and nation. We prayed together often and were moved by the prayers of their daughter, Hannah, for not only the victims but also the perpetrators of these violent acts. It made us cognizant that there in lies our only hope. Our hope is in the God who hears our prayers, no matter our age, location, or ability to understand the world's sometimes horrible complexities. Our hope is in the God who has not left us to our murderous, selfish, sinful selves but has come to us in Christ and invites us to follow Christ's way of shalom.

Traveling in Africa is a reminder of the tremendous differences among the people of our world. In each country we've visited there are many languages spoken. Currently we are in South Africa which has eleven official languages and countless other non-official languages spoken. Yet, living hospitality, demonstrating the loving embrace of God, means recognizing something greater and deeper than our obvious differences. It calls for constantly looking for ways to include and empower those who, like me, are created in the image of God, created to flourish and to be a part of God's New Creation already breaking into this world. It's exciting and encouraging to see this happening in places like Tete, Mozambique, in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, as well as on the corner of Neland and Watkins, Grand Rapids, Michigan. It is an incredible privilege to join with Christians in another part of the world in praying for God's Kingdom to come and will be done, in ALL the earth as it is heaven.

Pictures
1. Esther and Hannah Gimba. Wonderful cooks! Beautifully hospitable!
2. Corn storage is often a challenge. This is a common storage crib.
3. Walking through the village toward the farms.
4. A thankful farmer.
5. Examining some of the new farming techniques.
6. Women sifting the corn in preparation for grinding it. The porridge-like food the corn eventually becomes is mainstay of the diet.
7. Greg couldn't help but fix a few things around the Gimba's home.

Back to Kenya

"When Jeremiah saw the vision of the presence of God suspended over Babylon as well as over Jerusalem, he realized that he had to give up everything he had ever thought about Israel, about God, about the world. Until that moment, a Jerusalemite, he had been convinced that YHWH shone about Jerusalem alone and for the Jews only. But now, seeing the presence of God poised protectively over Babylon ... he also realized that what he got instead was a God who was greater, a people that was broader, and a world that was holier than he had ever imagined."

"The "other" is the one who teaches us that we are not the whole world. We are only a piece of it waiting for the "Other" to make us more than we were when we began. Alleluia."

These words were written by Rowan Williams and Joan Chittister, from their book, For All That Has Been, Thanks (Growing a Sense of Gratitude)

"The more insignificant your brother, the stronger Jesus comes to the fore." St. Chrysostom.


On our travels in Kenya, Greg and I were given the gift of glimpsing a God who is greater, a people that is broader, and a world that is holier than we had ever imagined.

It happened mostly in Hannah's garden. Hannah is a farmer. At the death of her brother, for whom she had faithfully cared for many years, Hannah received a small piece of land. Through a local partner (the Anglican Church) of CRWRC, she learned about something called conservation gardening. Hannah employed every strategy she could, including using compost and manure instead of expensive fertilizer. She mulched her garden and planted to optimally utilize the land available to her. She told us her plants were not looking "smart" right now because it hadn't rained for 2 weeks and the pipe that sometimes brought water from the city was broken. Despite this, Hannah was very hopeful her garden would flourish - as rain was expected soon and if it didn't come she could now afford to purchase some water if needed. Hannah exuded joy and confidence in what she had accomplished, yet gave the glory and thanks to God. Along with James from CRWRC and Lois from the local partner, Greg and I held hands with Hannah (reminding us that our faith family is broader than we imagined), in the middle of her garden (a place holier than we imagined), and prayed a prayer of thanks to the God who is greater than any of us can imagine.

Hannah sent us off with gifts of produce from her garden. Hospitality beyond measure.

While in Kenya we also met up with Davis Omanyo, other CRWRC staff from Kenya, as well as a friend, Anna Katavi, who works with the Timothy Institute in east and southern Africa.

We are thankful for the work they do and pray that God will continue to smile on each one of them, on Hannah, and on God's image bearers in all of Kenya.

Again, pictures.
1. Before going to Hannah's garden, we sat in on a training for conservation farming.
2.The group was so welcoming and gave gifts of mangos to us.
3. Davis Omanyo works for CRWRC in Uganda. Neland is one of his supporting churches.
4. James Mwangi (CRWRC) and Anna Katavi (Timothy Institute).
5. Hannah and her farm. The picture doesn't do justice to Hannah's garden as it doesn't include the large part that was flourishing the most. Hannah also raises rabbits and chickens to sell in the market.

Full Day

I wrote this post a week ago and have been unable to send it due to the remote regions we were inhabiting. :)

We're back in touch and hope to post again soon.

Jan 27, 2012
Today we had breakfast in Kenya, lunch in Malawi, and dinner in Mozambique. We left the dry, dusty roads of Nairobi and entered again into the lush landscape of Mozambique (through Malawi) in the midst of rainy season. Beautiful! This time we've come to a part of the country we haven't seen before. We are in Tete province, hosted by our friends Istifanus and Esther Gimba. They work for CRWRC here and are eager to show us the development work being done in collaboration with their partner, Igresia Reformada do Mocambique. They are gracious hosts.

We also have many stories to tell from our time in Kenya but internet access and time to write have been scarce. Enjoy these photos taken with our IPad. We're unable to down load pictures from our camera currently as we need to purchase a new cable (available when we get to South Africa).
1. A stop on the side of the road to buy mangos brought spectators.
2. Wish you could have seen their faces after they saw themselves in the photo on the IPad.
3. Larry and Linda McAuley, and Istifanus and Esther Gimba. CRWRC staff in Malawi and Mozambique.
4. Lunch with the Gimbas.

Inspiration

One thing compelling us back to Mozambique was wanting to spend time with those working hard for the flourishing of the people here. They are an inspiration. While there are others in the country doing this, both Mozambicans and expatriates, here are the ones with whom we recently spent some time.

Mark and Helen Van Kovering. After helping us get settled in Lichinga 15 years ago, they went to the UK for seminary. Helen became an Anglican priest and served/s a congregation upon their return here. She also does work for the diocese and Mothers Union/Women's groups in the area. Mark also became a priest and serves as the bishop responsible for over half of Mozambique. He travels a ton, on roads you can only begin to imagine (think slimy red mud and wobbling-planks-over-murky-water type bridges) and does a lot of equipping, teaching, and encouraging of church leaders and churches. They seem to be constantly thinking of ways to build the capacity, food security, and dignity of the people here. I hope you sense our respect for them and their work.

We've also had the privilege of meeting Rebecca Vander Muelen who works with the mission/community development arm of the Anglican Church in Lichinga. She, along with her colleagues, Mario and David, seek to develop more opportunities for faith formation in the youth and are involved in education and other community development initiatives in a large area of northern Mozambique. Rebecca rides her bike most places, has worked for Bread for The World, and thinks hard about issues of justice. It was a delight to spend a little time with her.

We also spent a little time with Dr. Peg, who is involved in multiple aspects of health teaching and improvement in northern Mozambique. We're told she is the only doctor responsible for the health care of about 20,000 people, yes, 20,000. She quickly reminded us that there are nurses and trained health workers in the area as well, but truly, her work is vital to the health of a large portion of people in northern Mozambique.

Since I began writing this post, we have arrived in Kenya. There are so many stories to tell but I think this post is long enough for now. We'll only add a few humorous thoughts about travel/life in Africa.

You know you're in Africa when.....
1. the thought of doing laundry with machines is an exciting prospect.
2. you think less about how cool your mosquito net looks draped over your bed, and more about how well it will keep out the rats, mice, mosquitoes, and many other potential creepy crawly visitors.
3. the immigration officials find great satisfaction in making the loudest bang possible in stamping your passport. (not sure why this is, it just is)
4. you're struggling to fall asleep and find it conducive to count geckos on the wall as opposed to sheep over the fence.
More to come..
Shalom, friends.

Pictures:
1. Life's necessities are often carried on your head.
2. Ruth and Rebecca
3. Mark and Rebecca
4. Mark and Helen's backyard view
5. Dr. Peg in the forefront
6. Communion last Sunday morning

Lichinga

Yesterday I spent the morning with some women from the Mother's Union. The Mother's Union plays a central role in the life of the Anglican Church in Mozambique. On Thursday mornings, in the local congregation, the women meet together to plan for their work of mercy. Before their meeting, the priest leads a communion service. It was beautiful to kneel next to my Mozambican sisters and share together in the body of Christ. How could my spirit not be encouraged by the reaffirmation that God is at work here and that through Christ we are united. After the service, the women sang and danced for me. Joyful, hopeful, wonderful hospitality. They then brought lunch to Greg and I and to Mark Van Koevering, our friend and a bishop in the Anglican Church serving here in Mozambique. The next post I'll introduce you to some of the people working here.

Enjoy these pictures from the day with the women and other local scenes.

A Mixture

I thank my friend Kristy Quist for the quote she posted on Face Book yesterday, which so resonates with me today here in Lichinga.

"I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day." E.B. White

There is deep enjoyment for us here - in reconnecting with friends, in the flooding of fond memories, and in the beauty of this lush land in the middle of rainy season.

And then there's that desire, which inevitably comes with the territory, to change what's hard and impoverished and ugly about "here."

On Sunday we worshipped at the nearby Anglican church. Greg and I were introduced as special visitors and folks were told we had lived in Lichinga and that Greg had worked with the local construction co-operative. On Monday, four guys from the co-operative came to greet us and to reminisce with Greg about their work together. It was both delightful and sad.

They remembered together the challenges of obtaining needed supplies from distant places (especially over rain-tortured roads in the wet months), and the frustration of doing work and sometimes not getting paid. The co-operative was eventually bought out and the men received a payoff, which was good, but since have not found work.

After church on Sunday we went with some women from the church to visit and pray with the sick. As it turned out the person we were to visit had gone to Maputo for treatment so the women instead helped us find our way around town and to our old house.

Much has changed here. Cell phones are all the rage. This is mind boggling to us. You'll see a woman dressed in the traditional colorful capalanas worn here, carrying a container of corn on her head, a cell phone tucked into the strap of her blouse.

Much hasn't changed as well. The market is still filthy and a bit intimidating. The rainy season makes for muddy roads and piles of smelly garbage scattered throughout town.

One other interesting note about Sunday, as we headed into town crowds from the nearby villages filled the streets. Boys and girls from these villages had just returned from several weeks of training from the elders of their communities. The boys are taken into "the bush" and the girls into a place where the women teach them about their future responsibilities and place in the community. It was a raucous and lively celebration.

I am posting many pictures, including ones of this event. Using my iPad for blogging has created the challenge of not being able to write a caption under each picture. Sorry. I'll identify them on the list below.

Shalom to all!

1. The youth celebration
2. Fellow worshippers
3. The four men from the co-operative
4. The visiting women
5. A ride into town
6. Our old house in the background
7. Another photo of the initiation event

Mozambique

Friday, Jan 6. Maputo (capital city)

It's unmistakable. The heat, the smells, the weary buildings and littered streets, the hard working, hard hustling people, along with our brain-draining attempts to speak and understand Portuguese tell us, we're in Mozambique.

We're reminded what was good and what was hard about living here. One hard thing; quickly calculating a 27.6 exchange rate (and often feeling like you were just ripped off). One good thing; adventurous cultural immersion. We're not in Kansas anymore.

I'm reminded today that God's desire for the people of Mozambique is for them to flourish, to be blessed with the knowledge and experience of God's goodness, love, and shalom. It would be easy to assume, based on quick appearances, that the prospects of this are dismal. Yet, there is hope. There is hope because God is already here and at work. Our prayer is ....... to see.

Saturday, Jan. 7.

Today we arrived in Lichinga. Lots to say about that. Instead I'll simply post some pictures, including one of Mark and Helen VanKoevering, our gracious and hospitable hosts.