Who can go to Africa?

When you think of adventurers in Africa, what do you picture? If you're like me, you picture a young single or a hard bitten single reporter. But not a family. So I found this article stimulating reading.

I can understand why you wouldn't think this was a good idea, a good thing to do with your kids. But if you've got confidence that your safety is in the hands of a mighty Father, and if you're not holding tightly to your comfort, then doesn't it get you going.

I'm lucky enough to have had cousins live in Tanzania when I was a kid, and that my parents didn't value our comfort over our ability to really experience life: we went over for christmas when I was 12, and my sisters were 10 and 7. I haven't stopped going since.

Because of that trip, and other less glamorous but more risky choices my parents took to follow Jesus, we've got stories that will set us up for a life time of adventure. And surprisingly, I think I'm not that unusual. Many, many of the adventurers I've met in Africa have been families just like mine, actually living there long term. And loving it. They may not feature in the films, but families are out there changing the world.

Scumprobe reports

For fellow fans of CS Lewis' book, The Screwtape Letters (I think I once described it as 'a proper christian book - makes you laugh then kicks you in the balls'): A new letter...

Foolishness #3

It's another poem from Steve Turner today. Ties in very well with those thoughts I had on foolishness, so we'll get it down before that's completely forgotten...
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7/8 of the Truth, and Nothing but the Truth.
If you are sitting comfortably
I suspect I am not giving you
the truth.
I am leaving you two poems
short of disagreement
so that you can remark upon
the likeness of our minds.
I am being kind.
I am giving you the truth
in linctus form - strawberry flavour.
I am being unkind.
am ignoring the correct dosage.
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I want to be liked.
That's my trouble
I want to be agreed with.
I know you like strawberry,
I quite like it myself.
It's nothing but the truth
but it's not the whole truth.
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No one admires the whole truth,
No one ever applauds.
It takes things too far.
It's nice but where would
you put it?
People who neglect the strawberry
flavouring, do not get asked back.
They get put in their place,
with nails if necessary.

Ouch poems

I'm continuing my homage to/theft of Steve Turner. Tonight, another of my favourite categories of his poems. Poems that make me go 'ouch'. Let me show you what I mean:

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The God Letters

The Lord God says:

'Share your bread

with the hungry,

bring the homeless poor

into your house,

cover the naked.'

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Dear Lord God,

We have got

new carpets,

so this will

not be possible.

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See what I mean? Try getting through this one, without an ouch:

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Lord, Lord

You were hungry

and I was sorry.

You were thirsty

and I blamed the world.

You were a stranger

and I pointed you out.

You were naked

and I turned you in.

You were sick

and I said a prayer.

You were in prison

and I wrote a poem.

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How many of those have you done? I count 5 for sure. The naked guy at the crossroads in Jinja wasn't just short of clothes, and I don't think trying to turn him in would have been a good idea, but still...

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On several occasions I've pointed out one lady who sleeps rough in Norwich as a way to look smart. It is very easy to let caring become just my job. Or, realistically, to carry on working and stop caring. Not that my feelings matter. But when I stop caring I stop trying to actually help people and just try to run a tight ship. That could keep me busy my whole life. God forbid. Please.

Short poems

I was weak last tuesday night and slipped into the amazon. I emerged an hour later having bought 5 books and 2 CDs. That's the cosumerist trap I'm stuck in. Ah well, it does have some advantages: I finally bought a book of poems by Steve Turner and I'm loving it. He's like my favourite bits of Brecht and Blake, with an even more similar worldview. Let me share some of my favourites.
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Tonight: short poems.
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Short poem
Short poems
are fun.
You can see
at a glance
whether you
like them
or not.
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Depression
Came here
to write
a poem
on depression
but
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got fed up
and left.
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Sticks and stones
Sticks and stones
only break your bones
but words
can tear your heart out.
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History Lesson
History repeats itself.
Has to.
No one listens.
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Gun
What is a gun for?
A gun is for making things.
What does it make?
Orphans, widows,
grief...
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Wait
These are
the good
old days.
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Just wait
and see.
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Truth
There's no
such thing
as truth.
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No.
Not even
this.
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Prayer
Fell fast asleep
While saying a prayer.
When I woke up
Found God was still there.

See Africa Differently

[We had our show last night. It was great. Here's what I wrote about it, my 'director's note']

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I love Comic Relief.
I love the occasion of it, that takes people out of their normal life.
I love staying up late to watch it (I still haven’t gotten over the novelty of that!)
I love the excitment as the programme goes on, and more and more money comes in.
I love Africa.

However, having spent some time in Africa, I realise there is a bit more to it than what we will see on TV tomorrow. Africa isn’t just a place that needs our help. In fact, there’s a lot we can gain from them. That’s part of the idea behind tonight’s show. To see Africa differently. In fact, Comic Relief actually have a website called ‘SeeAfricaDifferently.com’. Thanks for the idea, guys...

We tried to find out a load of stuff about Africa to give us ideas for making the play. You can see some of the stuff on this board. We discovered that Africa has it’s own Hollywood, it’s own The Apprentice, it’s own X-factor... And in one video we watched, a guy said he hoped that one day Africa would have it’s own Make Poverty History concert for Europe. So we’ve tried to imagine – as well as we could (none of us are Africans!) – what that would be like.

One of the things Africa is great at is community. So we’ve tried to make a bit of community here tonight. We hope you enjoy it. We hope you have fun. We hope you make some new friends. We hope you enjoy our show even more than tomorrow night’s. We hope to see you again soon.
Thanks,

Tim & all at Loose Change Theatre

Foolishness #2

I am guilty of being too reasonable.

I was in our church meeting this Sunday morning, and we moved from drinking tea and chatting, to the band getting up, someone getting enthusiastic on the microphone, ‘let’s praise God’... Inside, I was groaning. I felt like a teenager watching their Dad busting a move in front of their friends. I was embarrassed about worshipping God.

Here’s why I was embarrassed. However cool the music, praise is just not normal, reasonable behaviour. One time, my next-door-but-one-neighbour pulled up in his Alfa Romeo and asked me who in our house did all the singing [Two doors down].

“Um... that would be me. Sorry.”

He honestly said, “No, it’s very good. Are you practicing for something?”

Ah. That one made me pause even longer. How on earth can I explain this so he actually gets it, and so I don’t sound like a complete weirdo who deserves no lenience when my guests park in his space? Here’s what I came up with:

“Er... not really. I’m singing.. to God.”

He actually didn’t seem at all fazed by this answer. Maybe it makes more sense to him than me. Maybe there’s something wrong with how I feel about this.

On Sunday morning, I realised public praise times aren’t the only Christian thing I feel embarrassed about. I feel embarrassed about the youth theatre I’m doing in Mile Cross – I feel like we’re coming in to build our own thing and constantly getting help off other people without giving anything back. I’m realising that’s not true because I’m noticing people are pleased to see us.

I feel embarrassed about sharing my story of Jesus working in my life with folk at our drop in, because they’re living hard lives. I feel embarrassed writing on here, and I try and phrase everything ultra-carefully so that people who aren’t Christians don’t think I’m wierd.

I even rehearse arguments that back all this up – saying ‘it’s important to communicate in a way that un-churched people can understand’, to ‘be culturally relevant’, to ‘make the good news understandable’...

The arguments aren’t wrong. But I think I fixate on them for the wrong reasons. I come at them to save my embarrassment rather than to help other people. I tie myself in knots trying to present my faith as reasonable to the world around me.

This is so completely the wrong way around. It’s making the opinion of the world the ultimate master on my actions in the public square. I won’t do things that this master wouldn’t like. The master is in my head, saying yes to this and no to that. I relate to Jesus at this master’s indulgence, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the way he runs his house, UK society.

And as I try and describe what’s going on inside me, it begins to sound rather familiar. The prince of this world discouraging the sons of God, trying to keep them out of the game. I’ve been conned. I’ve been had.

Here’s what Marcus said on Sunday morning: “Is there space for anything on the throne as well as Jesus? Every day we’re getting asked this.” The answer should be, ‘no’.

My perspective has been completely wrong. YHWH is the King. The earth is YHWH’s and everything in it. The fate of the world and everyone’s in it will be decided by Him, only. What is right and wrong, appropriate ways of behaving, are determined only by Him. Whether people like it or not is up to them. Some will get it and some won’t. It’s not up to me to manage people’s reactions, to work out the best way to bring them into the kingdom of heaven. That’s God’s job and I should stop trying to do it for him. My job is to do what he tells me. To only answer to him.

It is ridiculous to let my life be controlled by what society thinks is right. Society doesn’t have a clue. It’s the blind leading the blind, and it’s wisdom can be judged by the results – the happiness, contentment, harmony, justice, equality, flourishing, and value we’re all experiencing. Not.

I’ve been under the thumb of the world. I’ve obeyed it rather than obeying my Father who loves me. I’m no doubt going to keep doing it, too. I feel a bit mad about this. I want to feel a lot madder. I don’t want to stand for it any more.