Friday, April 01, 2011

Fracking in the Karoo


This is a copy of a short speech made on Friday, 25 March, in Cape Town by Lewis Gordon Pugh OIG (a.k.a. the Human Polar Bear) about the proposed fracking for gas in the Karoo by Shell.He received a sustained standing ovation. Please read it and pass it on if it matters to you.

Ladies and gentlemen, thank for the opportunity to address you. My name is Lewis Pugh.

This evening, I want to take you back to the early 1990's in this country. You may remember them well.

Nelson Mandela had been released. There was euphoria in the air. However, there was also widespread violence and deep fear.
This country teetered on the brink of a civil war. But somehow, somehow, we averted it. It was a miracle!

And it happened because we had incredible leaders. Leaders who sought calm.
Leaders who had vision. So in spite of all the violence, they sat down and negotiated a New Constitution.

I will never forget holding the Constitution in my hands for the first time.

I was a young law student at the University of Cape Town. This was the cement that brought peace to our land. This was the document, which held our country together. The rights contained herein, made us one.

I remember thinking to myself - never again will the Rights of South Africans be trampled upon.

Now every one of us - every man and every women - black, white, coloured, Indian, believer and non believer - has the right to vote. We all have the Right to Life. And our children have the right to a basic education. These rights are enshrined in our Constitution.

These rights were the dreams of Oliver Tambo. These rights were the dreams of Nelson Mandela.
These rights were the dreams of Mahatma Gandhi, of Desmond Tutu and of Molly Blackburn. These rights were our dreams.

People fought ­ and died ­ so that we could enjoy these rights today.

Also enshrined in our Constitution, is the Right to a Healthy Environment and the Right to Water.
Our Constitution states that we have the Right to have our environment protected for the benefit
of our generation and for the benefit of future generations.

Fellow South Africans, let us not dishonour these rights.
Let us not dishonour those men and women who fought and died for these rights.
Let us not allow corporate greed to disrespect our Constitution and desecrate our environment.

Never, ever did I think that there would be a debate in this arid country about which was more important ­ gas or water. We can survive without gas.... We cannot live without water.

If we damage our limited water supply ­ and fracking will do just that we will have conflict again here in South Africa.
Look around the world. Wherever you damage the environment you have conflict.

Fellow South Africans, we have had enough conflict in this land ­ now is the time for peace.

A few months ago I gave a speech with former President of Costa Rica.
Afterwards I asked him "Mr President, how do you balance the demands of development against the need to protect the environment?"

He looked at me and said :
"It is not a balancing act. It is a simple business decision.
If we cut down our forests in Costa Rica to satisfy a timber company, what will be left for our future?"

But he pointed out : "It is also a moral decision. It would be morally wrong to chop down our forests and leave nothing for my children and my grandchildren."

Ladies and gentlemen, that is what is at stake here today: Our children's future. And that of our children s children.

There may be gas beneath our ground in the Karoo.
But are we prepared to destroy our environment for 5 to 10 years worth of fossil fuel and further damage our climate?

Yes, people will be employed ­ but for a short while. And when the drilling is over, and Shell have packed their bags and disappeared, then what? Who will be there to clean up? And what jobs will our children be able to eke out?

Now Shell will tell you that their intentions are honourable. That fracking in the Karoo will not damage our environment. That they will not contaminate our precious water. That they will bring jobs to South Africa.

That gas is clean and green. And that they will help secure our energy supplies.

When I hear this ­ I have one burning question. Why should we trust them? Africa is to Shell what the Gulf of Mexico is to BP.

Shell, you have a shocking record here in Africa. Just look at your operations in Nigeria.
You have spilt more than 9 million barrels of crude oil into the Niger Delta.
That's twice the amount of oil that BP spilt into the Gulf of Mexico.

You were found guilty of bribing Nigerian officials ­ and to make the case go away in America
- you paid an admission of guilt fine of US$48 million.

And to top it all, you stand accused of being complicit in the execution of Nigeria's leading environmental campaigner
­ Ken Saro-Wira and 8 other activists.

If you were innocent, why did you pay US$15.5 million to the widows and children to settle the case out of Court?

Shell, the path you want us to take us down is not sustainable.
I have visited the Arctic for 7 summers in a row. I have seen the tundra thawing.

I have seen the retreating glaciers. And I have seen the melting sea ice.
And I have seen the impact of global warming from the Himalayas all the way down to the low-lying Maldive Islands.
Wherever I go ­ I see it.

Now is the time for change. We cannot drill our way out of the energy crisis. The era of fossil fuels is over.
We must invest in renewable energy. And we must not delay!

Shell, we look to the north of our continent and we see how people got tired of political tyranny. We have watched as despots, who have ruled ruthlessly year after year, have been toppled in a matter of weeks.

We too are tired. Tired of corporate tyranny. Tired of your short term, unsustainable practices.

We watched as Dr Ian Player, a game ranger from Natal, and his friends, took on Rio Tinto (one of the biggest mining companies in the world) and won.

And we watched as young activists from across Europe, brought you down to your knees,
when you tried to dump an enormous oil rig into the North Sea.

Shell, we do not want our Karoo to become another Niger Delta.

Do not underestimate us. Goliath can be brought down.
We are proud of what we have achieved in this young democracy ­ and we are not about to let your company come in and destroy it.

So let this be a Call to Arms to everyone across South Africa, who is sitting in the shadow of Goliath:
Stand up and demand these fundamental human rights promised to you by our Constitution.
Use your voices - tweet, blog, petition, rally the weight of your neighbours and of people in power.

Let us speak out from every hilltop. Let us not go quietly into this bleak future.

Let me end off by saying this -
You have lit a fire in our bellies, which no man or woman can extinguish.
And if we need to, we will take this fight all the way from your petrol pumps to the very highest Court in this land.
We will take this fight from the farms and towns of the Karoo to the streets of London and Amsterdam.
And we will take this fight to every one of your shareholders.
And I have no doubt, that in the end, good will triumph over evil.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Deacons


The Deacons visited our seminary tonight.

The Methodist Church of Southern Africa recognises two ordained ministries: Presbyters and Deacons. The Presbyters are set aside for word and sacrament, while the Deacons are set aside for word and service. This has not always been the case. Originally the Order of Deaconesses was created to deal with women who had experienced a call by God to full-time Christian service in the Church. Because the Methodist Church of my grandparents did not recognise the ordination of women, the Order of Deaconesses became a safe place to channel any God-inspired urge to ministry by women. With time the Methodist Church has discovered that the irresistable call of God on the lives of women to the ministry of Presbyter has only grown stronger. We have therefore come to recognise the two orders of ministry - presbyter and deacon - have nothing to do with gender, and everything to do with the call of God into different forms of ordained ministry. While we are a seminary for anyone who seeks Christian vocational formation, we are mostly populated by those exploring a call to become presbyters.

Tonight we heard testimonies of the work done by the deacons and celebrated their calling with shared worship and Holy Communion.

A helpful theological reflection on Deacons by my friend Dion Forster can be found at Deacons . There is also a response to his document.

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Bees around the Honey Pot

Like bees chasing after honey, they run after the ball - all at the same time! And if the big boy gets the ball he will run straight through the opposing team .


I went to watch an inter-primary schools rugby tournament at Cordwallis School. These were 10 and 11 year olds playing for their school's rugby team. This is beginner's rugby, where each team is allowed to have their school coach run behind the team on the field. This is mostly to help organise the players into some kind of order, ensuring that there will be enough of the bigger boys arriving for a scrum, and that all 15 team members do not attempt to get into the line-out.


I had gone at the invitation of Mulambo, who is the son of my colleague Lilian. Mulambo is a skinny Zambian boy with a broad smile and a passion for sport. He has just moved from the cricket season to the rugby season, and this was their team's first match. He attends Pelham Primary School and plays at wing for the B-team. 

I joined Mulambo's father David, along with other fathers who patrol the side-lines cheering and shouting instructons.





We returned home assuring Malambo that the unequal growth of  11year old boys can turn one boy into a battering-ram, but give another a smile and winning personality. As I climbed out of the car I heard David speculating that he should ask Mulambo's older brothers to "toughen him up". I suggested that it would be better to teach Mulambo to run away fast.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The First Seminary Wedding

Kenny got married this evening.

He is a seminarian from Queenstown who married Yamkhele in a simple legal ceremony in our chapel. They will have a larger family wedding back in their home church when finances permit.

And so they will become part of the Seminary story: as the first wedding in the seminary chapel.

We pray for God to bless them with joy, patience, and understanding.

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Monday, March 21, 2011

Trip to Pietermaritzburg

I have just spent a weekend with my family in Cape Town. And now I return to work in Pietermaritzburg - joining the ranks of many thousands of migrant workers in Southern Africa.

There is no direct flight to Pietermaritzburg, so I made the trip in two stages: first from Cape Town to Johannesburg; then from Johannesburg to Pmburg.

The first leg was uneventful - "Thank you for flying with us. You and the other 300 passengers are special to us, bla bla bla. " Then a 90 minute wait for the second leg. We went downstairs at the airport - all 28 of us. The bus took us out onto the runway - past the big jets of SAA, and the second hand jets of Kulula and 1Time, and past the smaller private jets, and then .... oh hell: propellers! There was a ladder leaning against the pilot's cockpit at a cleaner with bucket at squeegie cleaned the window. And another ladder for us passengers. We boarded a Jetstream 4100 Turboprop Airliner - top speed 500kmph.
We squeezed in and the air hostess/door guard/announcer/ got us comfortable. And she brought us drinks. And and she gave the hairy eyeball to a passenger twice her size who did not switch off his phone fast enough.

And so I am back at the Seminary.

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Dan and Ben

I have the amazing privilege of sharing in the life of Jenny and Dylan Wray... and of their twin sons Dan and Ben.
I knew Jenny 36 years ago when I lived with her parents Hugh and Pam Killops in Camps Bay. My father took long leave in my final year of school and I am indebted to the hospitality of the Killops family - including Jenny who was a baby at the time.

It was with a sense of the sacredness of life that I then re-connected with Jenny, who introduced me to Dylan and asked me to officiate at their wedding. They are an amazing couple, who are deeply committed to education that adds value to society. And now they have added their sons to the human mix. I believe that they will make fine parents.

I am better for knowing them.
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Sunday, March 13, 2011

Polly Shortts

This is not a garment to be worn. It is a hill to be run.

It is named after a farmer who lived next to the road, and who would offer aid to those who got stuck on the muddy hill after a thunderstorm. To tens of thousands of long distance runners, it is the dreaded hill to be conquered when running the Comrades Marathon road-running race between Durban and Pietermaritzburg.

This hill comes after 80km of running. From the top it is only 6 more kilometers to the finish – but first there is this 2 kilometer hill.



I ran it this morning – down and up! And discovered that it is 2 300 steps from the bridge at the bottom to where the roads intersect at the top. It is shaped like an S-bend, and fools many people who think that the second bend is the top, only to be sadly disappointed when rounding the bend to see more hill.


This morning’s run brought back many memories of past Comrades runs.

But most of all I am grateful that I can still run.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

looking deeper: outstretched

I found this site that offers a helpful prayer for Lent:

looking deeper: outstretched: "Lord, I believe - help my unbelief. I come with outstretched hands, so aware of their trembling - knowing their frailty and their cruelty, t..."

Ash Wednesday

Today begins a 40 day journey towards Easter. Christ followers spend this period - known as Lent - in fasting and prayer as we seek spiritual renewal.

This morning the seminarians used a cross of ash drawn on the forehead as a sign of our commitment to this spiritual adventure. Pray that the Spirit of God would lead us into places that renew us.
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Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Playing in the Chapel

I have to smile as I spot one of our seminary children playing quietly by himself during tonight's community service.

He is happy, contented, and humming the tune of the song we have just sung. Here is a child happy to be in the chapel of Christ. And he is playing .... cards! I think God laughs out loud.
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Sunday, March 06, 2011

Any one for a braai?

And so the braai is finished. Here is Mike with the finished product. And you are welcome to come around.
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Welder's helper

This weekend I welded a braai-stand (barbecue for the non-South Africans). This holds half a 44gallon drum.

Well, I did not actually weld. I held the bits of metal in place so that my colleague Mike Stone could do the welding. This involved sparks, very hot flames, helmets to protect our eyes, and ... "don't touch that it is hot" ... "Ouch!"

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Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Ramblings of a Rusty Runner


The alarm went off at 3h30 - yes that is 3:30 in the morning! I groped with disbelief for the light, taking a while to remember that I was to run a race that began at 5am. I am no longer in Cape Town where races begin at 6am (or 7am in winter). Here in Pietermaritzburg the races begin at five in the morning - any later and the heat and humidity becomes too much to bear.

Lately I have taken pity on my knees and have graduated from running marathons to running half-marathons. In a rush of blood to the head I entered two half-marathons on successive weekends. Last weekend I ran the Peninsula 21km in Cape Town, and this weekend I entered the 21km in Pietermaritzburg. Last weekend was lovely: I ran my favourite stretch of Cape Town. Beginning from Bergvliet we ran to the sea, and then along the coast from Muizenberg to Simons Town. We had a sweet westerley breeze to keep us cool, and I felt strong. And just as I was fading my fan club pitched and shouted encouragement (thank you Jen Tyler and Lisa Gee).

But today was a week later .... a week of long days and very little running. Oh well, I would run on the memory of last week. I was planning to get to the start on my motorcycle, only to have the battery die on me last night. So I phoned around, and found Brian Gray who agreed to give me a lift: "No problem, I will fetch you at 4:10". What to have for supper? I now had no transport to find supper, so I would have to make do with whatever was in the fridge and cupboards. Yes, there were some tinned beans, and some cheese, some milk, and some macaroni - viola, a supper is produced. Off to bed.

The alarm work me before sparrowsfart, and as I stumbled into wakefulness I knew that those tinned beans were not a good idea. It was not just the sparrows that farted this early in the morning. Ah there were the car lights of my lift.

"Hi Brian"
Oh no, it is not Brian but his son. "Dad said I must fetch you"
"And Where is Brian?"
"He is still asleep."

We sett off for the start....along with thousands of other runners. I estimate that about 3 000 runners filled the road - and helped raise the humidity levels. I was aware that the beans of last night's supper were also contributing to the methane levels, but "better out than in" is my motto. We set off on a 21km circuit around Pietermaritzburg. This really meant that the first 10km were uphill and the second 10km were downhill. I covered the first half in 7minutes per kilometer, but then recovered my equilibrium and managed the second half at 6 minutes per/km.

It is strange running in new territory. Not only do I not know the route, but I do not know the runners. I see some of the clubs that I remember from running the Comrades Marathon - Chiltern, DAC, Hillcrest Harriers, and Collegians - but many other clubs are new to me. We set off in the dark, weaving our way over speed bumps and pot holes, and as the dawn lightens the sky I am grateful for the early morning mist that cools the air. Gradually I begin to feel better and take in my surroundings, which consisted mostly of grizzled old codgers trundling at the back like me, and some pretty young things who graciously agree to laugh at our jokes - possibly out of pity or as a charitable gesture.

And then there was the finish line. The marathon runners turned right as they set off on the second leg of the run, but I gratefully headed for the tunnel, crossed the line, and received my medal with a sigh of satisfaction. It was only then that the realization struck me - I still had 4km to get home. I had so blithely told Brian not to worry about me after the race: "I will run home". What an idiot! I dragged my sorry ass over the next four kilometers at walking pace, rewarding myself with a hot shower and a sleep.

Now - what's the next race?














Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Wednesday Sermon

Wednesday morning at the seminary begins with a sermon. We are not just about academic gymnastics (and there is plenty of this). We are a place for the formation of Christian ministers. And Wednesday morning is the reminder of the call to ministry.

This is found both in the challenge offered by the preacher, and in the process of listening to experienced preachers and learning how to preach.

Right now we are encountering the three point sermon. Wednesday by Wednesday the preachers will use this basic structure as the medium for God's message. And in this we not only encounter a challenge of the Holy Spirit in the preached word, but we are challenged to learn how to communicate clearly and simply.

Ross Olivier preached this morning on Jacob wrestling with God at Peniel. He invited us to encounter the mystery of God - as we see Jacob trying to define God: "what is your name?" Ross then invited us to discover our spiritual growth in our inner wounds - Jacob's struggle left wounds. And thirdly, we were reminded that like Jacob, we are held secure by the Spirit as we offer our helplessness in worship.

I am grateful for my life.
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Friday, February 18, 2011

Inside

So here we are inside the stadium. Let the show begin (can you guess that I am really making the most of this evening?)
I have worked from 7am (morning worship) to 10pm (preparing the next day's lectures) for two weeks straight. Saturday was prep for Sunday's services at Wesley Methodist at Hayfields in Pietermaritzburg.
So I really need today off! And am having a great time.
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At the Stadium

Jenny and me outside the Cape Town Stadium - going to the U2 concert
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A sea of people

Crowds converging on Greenpoint Stadium for the U2 concert.
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Thursday, February 17, 2011

Flights of Fury

She was angry. She was so angry that her voice had become a shrill screech and her words were punctuated with expletives. She threatened to sue the airline. And she shook her fist at the counter check-in person. And she demanded that they pay her a full refund in addition to giving her a free flight. And free drinks. And she was going to the newspapers. And she knew influential people who would hear what a useless airline this was. And on and on it went.

All because the plane was not big enough for everyone who had booked. There were 5 of us in the same predicament. We were bumped off the budget flight (the one with no frills, food, and comfortable seats) onto a British Airways flight with food, drink, newspapers, and spacious seating. In addition we were given a voucher for a free flight. And we were asked to wait an hour for this flight. What a bargain!

She did not agree - but then she clearly does not belong in Africa. This is a continent that asks a measure of flexibility when it comes to time. And once we learn to deal with delays, shifting deadlines, and waiting in line - well it is a beautiful day.

And I am grateful for my life.
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Tuesday, February 15, 2011

A Community Sacrament.

In the Methodist tradition we affirm that the Grace of God embraces all people. We believe that whoever responds to the call of God is welcome to be part of God's community of faith. We believe that this is visibly expressed in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

Those who preside over the liturgy are not gate keepers. Instead the priest/minister/president serves anyone who answers the prompting of the Spirit of God and comes to the Sacrament.

This evening at the Seminary Community service we celebrated God's Grace-full welcome to both adults and children as we shared Holy Communion together.

And I am grateful.
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seminary children at family worship

Every Tuesday evening the Seminary has family worship. Here the children of our seminarians sit next to the table of Holy Communion as they are welcomed into the worshipping community.
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Monday, February 14, 2011

my Valentine

She spent the weekend with me. Jenny lives in Cape Town and I am four hours away in Pietermaritzburg (a two hour flight and an hour each way to the King Shaka airport).

She is living in Cape Town with our three university-going daughters. They are all in their final year of different stages of study and so Jenny will join me at the end of this year. Until then I look forward to weekends such as this.

We are at Circus Cafe in the Pavilion Mall at Westville - on our way to the airport.
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Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Duckpond

A long leisurely lunch at The Duckpond. This is a coffee shop behind Jesmondine Nursery, above Hayfields in Pietermaritzburg.

There is a traditional roast Sunday-lunch, washed down with a great cup of coffee. If you want to add something extra then try the cappuccino milkshake, which is homemade from scratch (no powder or instant coffee).

Aaah ...koffie kapitaal.
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Thursday, February 03, 2011

worship in SMMS chapel

The seminarians spend time each day in worship. It is a core activity in their formation as spiritual leaders. Please keep their spiritual journey in your prayers.
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Sunday, January 23, 2011

Did it hurt?

Peter Storey, preaching at the opening service of the Seth Mokitimi Methodist Seminary, asks if we are willing to allow the Spirit of God to change us. He notes that change is not easy. It may well hurt us. "The call of Jesus is a costly one". It is a Gospel that strips off the old in the process of producing the new.

We are invited into a community that turns the world upside down. It is not driven by the love of power. It is driven by the power of love. This is a community that embraces the hurts of our world - in order to bring God's change to our world.

This Seminary's dream is for people to discover the heart of love that changes our world. And that this community will not be afraid to embrace the pain of change in order to become God's people: "a cross-shaped church".
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Thursday, January 20, 2011

different shoes

So there I was walking through the supermarket when I happened to glance down at my feet. I was wearing different shoes. I had dressed and slipped my feet into the shoes alongside my bed. And failed to notice that they did not match.

But who decided that feet need to be shod the same? Perhaps I can start a new fashion.

Perhaps not. I am grateful for this quirky day.
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Thursday, January 13, 2011

First Day at School

I have that feeling all over again! The first day at a new school. It is a feeling stored in my memory; a feeling that now returns to me:

January 1963: pre-primary in Standerton Nursery School.
January 1964: Grade One at Robert Hicks Primary School, Pretoria.
January 1967: first day at Fish Hoek Primary School
January 1971 first day at Fish Hoek High School.
January 1980: first day at Rhodes University.
January 1981: first day at the Federal Theological Seminary, Pietermaritzburg.
January 1985: first day at University of Cape Town.
January 1998: first day at John Wesley College, Pretoria.
January 2002: first day at John Wesley College, Cape Town.

And here it is again:
January 2011: first day at Seth Mokitimi Methodist Seminary, Pietermaritzburg.
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Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A Perfect Cappuccino

There is a coffee heaven.

Drive north of Pietermaritzburg on the N3. Then turn off onto the Midlands Meander, near Curry's Post. And go in search of Terbodore coffee roasters.

Mark and Marian Macaskill run a coffee shop attached to their coffee roastery. They serve amazing coffee. Even better is their warm hospitality, and their endless patience in answering all our coffee questions.

And I savoured a perfect cappuccino. I am grateful.

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Monday, January 10, 2011

Coffee at a Lighthouse

We drank lighthouse coffee at Port Edward.

This is a holiday village at the end of the KwaZulu-Natal holiday coast. Named Port Edward in honour of the Prince of Wales, (who later became King Edward VIII), it is 150 km south of Durban on what is known as the Hibiscus Coast because of its lush sub-tropical vegetation.

Dave Watson runs a fabulous coffee-shop at the lighthouse. He will welcome you with a smile and a story from the sailing-ship history of this coastline. You will be invited to climb the lighthouse stairs to see the panoramic view from the top (tip: hold onto your sunglasses and cap or they will be redistributed by the breeze). And then settle down to a cup of coffee brewed from beans grown on a local farm.

Breathe deeply and taste the salty sea air. And be grateful to be alive.
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Saturday, January 08, 2011

The Transkei

I have a particular loyalty to Xhosa culture and history - which encompasses the Eastern Cape (a central feature of my Phd thesis). But even closer in my affections is the Transkei. Right now its rolling hills are emerald green and the scenery is stunning.

And then there is Mthatha, the "city" of the Transkei and the town where I was born. This is a place of chaotic traffic, humungous speed humps, potholes, and unpredictable traffic-lights. But I love its feeling of being an African town. There are street traders selling clothes, bags, caps, food from black cast-iron cooking-pots, and roasted mealies alongside the road.

I was on my BMW motorcycle and pulled alongside a taxi to ask directions. He cheerfully pointed me in the right direction, and then allowed both me and the family in our bakkie to cut in front of him to make the turn. And no one in the many surrounding cars minded at all that we caused a minor traffic disruption. Probably because this blended into the general mayhem of Mthatha's afternoon traffic anyway.

I am grateful.
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Friday, January 07, 2011

Roots

Yesterday I encountered one of my ghosts.

Dickens introduces the "Ghost of Christmas-past" as a memory observed from the present. My personal ghost walked with me for a moment when I visited John Wesley Methodist Church in Frere Rd, Mthatha.

This was the place that I began my love/hate relationship with the Methodist Church. Fifty years ago my father was the minister of this church. I have happy memories of riding a tricycle in the manse garden, of Sunday School stories, of playing with the children of church members, and of church officials like "Uncle Wilkinson" visiting us.

I also find difficult memories: of my father's frustration with the petty power-play of a wealthy member of the congregation; of my father becoming seriously ill as a result of pastoral overload (a colleague resigned from his pastoral charge and my Dad had to take it on in addition to his own work); and of my mother's fear that we would have no home if something happened to my Dad.

These have helped shape who I am today. I freely choose to continue to live within this strange and contradictory church.

And I am grateful.

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Thursday, January 06, 2011

The Sweaty Dutchman

A perfect combination: the Langkloof road, some old jazz standards playing on my ipod, and my BMW motorcycle trundling down the highway.

And then I found The Sweaty Dutchman at Kareedouw. It is run by Hans, a genuine Dutchman from Holland. And as I filled up on a savoury (Dutch) pancake and savoured delicious home-brewed coffee, I knew that a good day had just got better.
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Wednesday, January 05, 2011

village trading post

Stop in de Rust! This village is 30km outside of Oudtshoorn on the way to Meiringspoort. And the main road has been transformed into a fascinating collection of art/craft/food/antique shops.

We stopped for breakfast at The Village Trading Post. Niekie and Soan run this amazing shop and it is well worth the stop. Niekie is a goldsmith who helps run the coffee shop when he is not making pretty things. Soan is the chef who gave us breakfast of french toast, bacon, mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and orange-onion marmalade.

They have a resident artist, whose amazing paintings persuaded my wife to buy a print of one of her paintings.
And to cap it all they have water cooled fans that were a welcome relief on such a hot day.
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Tuesday, January 04, 2011

View from a tent

Lie in your tent. Take a look out of the door. Observe the sun-dappled tree. Hear the birds singing. Note the chorus of Christmas beetles. Feel the hint of breeze on the morning air. Blue sky from horizon to horizon And sigh: "Another hard day in Africa".
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Monday, January 03, 2011

A Perfect Pass

There is nothing to beat the combination of a long winding mountain pass, an empty road, and a motorcycle.

Today I was blessed with the Huisriver Pass. It lies on the R62, ten kilometers before Calitzdorp. Come over a rise and this pass descends to the valley floor of the Huis River. It has a drop on the right into a valley that sweeps away towards cloud-covered mountains.

This is a road with long sweeping corners, both left and right, punctuated by short bursts of straight road. Take a deep breath, move forward on the bike, and change down a gear or two. Then lean into the corner, taking care to sweep from the edge of the road to the centre. Accelerate through the corner and look across the corner towards the next bend.

Awesome!
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Sunday, January 02, 2011

Road Trip: Day One

Today we left Cape Town for Pietermaritzburg.

This was a sad moment for me as I said farewell to nine years of pastoring a local congregation and set off for a lecturing post in the Methodist Seminary.

And it was raining. Normally this would be fine. But today was different: I was riding my motorcycle. And the wind was blowing and rain was falling.

The other members of the expedition were dry. My wife Jenny, our three daughters and Jen Tyler all rode in the Toyota HiLux.

We agreed to ride together - which means me riding at a snail's pace behind the girls because the bakkie seldom gets over 100kmph. But this gives me plenty of time to think, and pray, and generally reflect on the time of transition in my life.

Tonight we are camping in Montague. Here is my BMW GS 1150, and the bakkie with two roof tents.
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Friday, December 31, 2010

New Year's Eve

Good friends, a braai, laughter, and a lovely evening. Happy New Year.
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Sunday, December 26, 2010

Latte

Nothing beats good company, a good latte, and a lovely summer's day. At Mugg & Bean Constantia with Jen and Jess.
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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas in South Africa

For those in other parts of South Africa (where it is raining) and for those in the Northern Hemisphere (where it is snowing): Christmas-time in Cape Town includes me standing in a sunny back yard with sausage on a braai (barbecue).

You are welcome to visit me.
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Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Nation is on Holiday.

Today - December 16 - has been a South African public holiday for all of my life.

I knew it as "Dingaan's Day": a celebration of a Boer victory over a Zulu army. At school I was taught how a handful of boers defended their wagons against the "advancing hoards of warriors". It was many years later that I discovered that they were also greatly assisted by a canon, that decimated the spear-and-shield armed warriors.

Then it became the Day of the Vow, and was used as a day to rally national pride for the white Afrikaner people. The unifying theme for the day was how God had honoured a vow of loyalty to God made by the Boers. This vow somehow bound God to the political cause of Afrikaans nationalists. This then provided spiritual energy to a racist ideology. The rest of the nation used this day for a breather in the headlong rush to the end of the year.

Now it is the Day of Reconciliation. The idea is for us as a nation to bridge the divisions of our past and build a new future together. Politicians still use this day for political rallies. But the vast majority of the nation will find our unity in the great shrines of mammon as we shop our frenetic way towards Christmas.

Pray that we can somewhere pause and be reminded that we cannot spend our way to peace and joy. These qualities are better available when Jewish shepherds, Zoroastrian wise men, and a polygot melange of the world's people gather at a manger to share their common humanity.
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Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Oh-The-Places-You'll-Go

I love the wisdom of Dr. Seuss: here is an extract from a book he wrote the year I was born. (With thanks to Art Preston for posting this @ http://bit.ly/gGlhlq)

"All Alone!"

Whether you like it or not,

Alone will be something

You'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance

You'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.

There are some, down the road between hither and yon,

That can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go

Though the weather be foul

On you will go

Though your enemies prowl.

On you will go

Though the Hakken-Kraks howl,

Onward up many a frightening creek,

Though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike

And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up of course, as you already know,

You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act.

Just never forget to be dextrous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will indeed!

(98 and ¾ per cent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So…

Be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray

Or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,

You're off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So … get on your way!

(excerpt from "Oh The Places You'll Go", Dr Seuss, Collins, 1990; orig. 1957)
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Wednesday, December 08, 2010

John Linford

He turned 80 a year ago. And we went for a ride on my GS 1150 BMW motorcycle this morning.

John began life on two wheels racing bicycles. After school in Pietermaritzburg, he moved to Durban where he worked to save enough money to buy a ship's ticket to London. Here he spent three years competing in bicycle races both in the UK and the continent. He found work as a labourer in between races to keep his finances going. He remembers his highlight was the Paris Grand Prix cycle races in the mid 1950's: "but those blokes were too good for us".

His next venture on two wheels was funded by working in the merchant navy. When he had saved enough, John and a friend bought scooters and travelled through Europe. His was a Vespa bought in Italy - "kick-start, smoke and gears".

Then he returned to Durban where he found his next adventure on two wheels as a traffic cop for the Natal Provincial Authority. He began on maroon Triumph 350's, graduating to the Gold 600's, before getting his beloved BMW 750. He wore a white open face helmet and official gloves, and went as fast as he dared.

After this he had employment as a salesman for Barlows, and a caretaker for various buildings - including a ten year stint for Rustenberg Girls junior school where the only wheels he drove were on a lawnmower.

And so it was with great joy that I loaded him onto the back of my bike and headed over a Cape Mountain pass to have coffee in Noordhoek. He sat very well on the bike and was a pleasure as a passenger. It was a bit of a scramble getting on and off the bike - but then again: John is nearly 81 years old.

A great "guys-only" morning.
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Tuesday, December 07, 2010

It is all in a Name

For the past year I have employed a very skilled gardener. He has faithfully arrived at my door every Thursday and cheerfully kept the garden in shape. And every week I have known him as "Patrick." Until now.

While saying farewell to him yesterday I discovered his full name: it is Abednigo Moeketso Ntsere. When I asked him why he did not introduce himself using his birth names he said that a "white women" had once told him that they were too difficult and so she decided to call him Patrick. Since then he believed that white people cannot say his name and so he just uses another name.

This is (sadly) a typical story of our land. Ever since white settlers arrived in the Cape Colony they have stripped black people of their names.

The first Khoisan man to visit Europe was taken in 1629 by ship to Batavia, where he was given the name Harry. When Jan van Riebeeck arrived to lead the small Dutch settlement in 1652 he records using "Harry the Hottentot" as his interpreter.

In the same way the Rev. William Shaw would baptise the son of Chief Kama and change his name from Xhanti to William.

Throughout the dreadful years of the hated "pass system" black people were given white names for their official documentation - and Rolihlahla Mandela would become "Nelson" when he went to school.

And so I meet a humble son of a Xhosa father and a Sotho mother and have spend a year calling him a name that is unknown to his parents.

God bless you Abednigo Moeketso Ntsere.
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Friday, December 03, 2010

Moving Out

Packing boxes: scrounged from the container at the back of Pick and Pay Supermarket. Some marked Ceres fruit juice. Small, useful for little things inside bigger boxes. Big boxes of Simba Chips and Rice Crispies. Books in small boxes. Pillows and blankets in big boxes.

Tape. Rolls and rolls of it. Green.

Bubble wrap and paper. Rolls that unwind around paintings (my daughter Lisa is a painter). And wrapping for crockery, glasses, bits 'n pieces.

Dust. Behind the bookcases, and the piano, and the fridge ... And spreading just about everywhere else. If "dust to dust" is true then there are lots of dead people lurking in the corners of this house.

Strong men. The people who are carrying boxes with such ease: boxes that have pulled my back muscles out of shape! But then I have paid a small fortune for this move so let them sweat.

Sleep. None. Packed until 2:30. And up again at 6. Pouring with rain. And a headache.

We have too many possessions. A sleeping bag and spoon & cup would be sufficient.

But the sun has come out. And my head has cleared. And a new adventure beckons.
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Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Moving On

I move house on Friday.

I have lived in this house for 9 years. It is 100 years old, with high ceilings and thick walls. This house began life in the centre of a small-holding, surrounded by vegetable gardens and a few cows. The garage and store room at the end of the garden used to be a cow-shed.


It has been the property of the Plumstead Methodist Church from 1928, and I have had a succession of colleagues come to visit me and reminisce about their life under this roof. It has been my place of shelter – both from the winter storms that accompany life in Cape Town; and from the emotional and spiritual storms of life as a husband, father, pastor, and human being.
• This house was the safe place to which I returned when life threatened to crush my spirit; it was the place of a garden that soothed my troubled spirit; it was the back yard of many sociable braais with friends; it has been the place of the fireplace in winter that warmed many conversations; it has been the refuge of high, cool ceilings when the summer heat was beating down on the city.
• This house contained a family of six: me, Jenny, our daughters Lisa, Jessie and Amy, and Granny. But it has also been home to many who have stayed awhile: I think of Greg, who makes Jessie happy, and has chosen to see this as another home; Jen has blessed our family by joining us from South Dakota; John is an Englishman who brought his passion for running and English rugby. I celebrate the many, many overnight guests who chose to sleep under this roof. We have been blessed by their stopping by.
• This house has had bunnies at the end of the garden; and dogs who roamed the garden and the drive way; and a cat who prowled the property in a vain attempt to see off the neighbourhood cats; and a tortoise from Carnarvon; and lots of squirrels.....(oh the joy of Nugget our Great Dane/Labrador when, after years of vainly dashing after them he finally caught one).
• This house has seen my children through high school and university. Two of them left for a year to live far away in other countries – and this house was the home to which they returned.

And now I leave for the next chapter of my life: another step in my pilgrimage of faithful response to God’s call on my life; to another city – and another house. In so doing, I find this quote from Henri Nouwen very helpful:

"[Praying] demands that you take to the road again and again, leaving your house and looking forward to a new land for yourself and your [fellow human]. This is why praying demands poverty, that is, the readiness to live a life in which you have nothing to lose so that you always begin afresh." - Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Open Hands

Monday, November 29, 2010

Coming Home for Christmas



Isa 2:2 In days to come the mountain where the Temple stands will be the highest one of all, towering above all the hills. Many nations will come streaming to it…..
They will hammer their swords into plows and their spears into pruning knives. Nations will never again go to war, never prepare for battle again.




Christmas is the time when people make an effort “to go home for Christmas.” Some fly across the county, others gather together as a family, and some gather at the telephone – or skype! So my task is to ask “Have you have sorted out the family gathering?”
In the Old Testament we have advice about the family gathering from one of the wise men of faith:
Isaiah lived 2700 years ago: which was 700 years before Jesus. He lived at a time when Assyria was expanding her political influence. And so the people of Judah and Israel felt very unsafe, because this foreign power was flexing its economic and military muscles on their border. Isaiah offers this advice: stop worrying about the future and instead: “Come Home”

Isaian says three things:

1. See that God’s mountain is the largest one of all.Isa 2:2 In days to come the mountain where the Temple stands will be the highest one of all, towering above all the hills
This is not a geography lesson, but is rather a lesson in imagination.
No matter how big the mountains that frighten you, open your eyes and discover that God’s mountain is bigger!
This is not saying that you must ignore the things that make you afraid: it is inviting you to see that God is bigger.
There is a famous quote from Frederick Langbridge "Two men look out through the same bars; one sees the mud and the other one the stars."
This is a choice – either we can look for the mud, or we can look up and see God’s mountain. Going home for Christmas gives us a choice: we can choose to see the mud. Or we can choose to see God.

2. Many nations will come
Isa 2:3 Many nations will come streaming to it,and their people will say, "Let us go up the hill of the LORD
This was tough for the people of Isaiah’s time to hear: because they were resisting the “many nations.” They wanted nothing to do with them because they were afraid of them. In fact they wanted to keep them out:
Isaiah says – “No. Let them in.”
The more people who come, the more chance they have of hearing the Good News of our faith…."Let us go up the hill of the LORD, to the Temple of Israel's God.”

Clearly this speaks to those of us today who follow Jesus. This is an invitation for us to hear the call to welcome people into our faith rather than shutting them out.

3. They will make peace
They will hammer their swords into plows and their spears into pruning knives. Nations will never again go to war, never prepare for battle again (also found in Micah 4:3).
This is a famous quote that is often quoted, and is to be found on a plaque outside the United Nations headquarters in New York. I looked it up on Google, and found this quote repeated 40 000 in quotes: and probably 39 000 reasons why we should not take this seriously.
- Some say that “God did not really mean this for the present – it is just an ideal.”
- Others: “This is only for the end of time when Jesus returns to judge the nations”
- Many say that this is a spiritual activity where we stop being at war with God.

And I asked why when we take so many other texts in the Bible at face value - why can’t we take this one literally too?
I had to acknowledge it was because this is really too difficult.
• No one in their right mind expects the nations to make peace with each other.
In fact throughout the recent Recession – the one industry guaranteed to make a profit are weapons of war.
Even the prophet Joel found it hard to believe (Joel 3:10 )
• No one even tries to make peace as individuals. Because it is just too hard.

But this is unavoidably here: and is repeated in Micah 4:3.
This is the dream – not sometime in the future – but for this Christmas! How do we know this?
Because these are the words of the angels when Jesus was born.
Luk 2:13 Suddenly a great army of heaven's angels appeared with the angel, singing praises to God:"Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom he is pleased!"
Luke tells us that when the angels had finished singing to the shepherd : what did they do? They went home!
Picture this: they lived in the village of Bethelhem – but spent time in the fields looking after their sheep. The angels said: make peace, and they said: “let us go to Bethlehem.” This is the stuff of Christmas – that we make peace…. And where does peace begin – at home!

So the invitation for today:
Begin to prepare for Christmas.
And begin your preparation by making peace.

This is the point that you stop me and say: That’s all very well: but how do I do it? I am angry / I am upset / I have been hurt :
It is very hard to suddenly be peaceful.
And I agree: I too find it very hard to make peace when I have been hurt.
In my experience I have to follow the example of the shepherds:
When the shepherds wanted to put into practice the words of the angels they went to the crib of Jesus.
I have found that I need to begin at the crib of Jesus:
I need to allow his peace to anoint me, and discover that Jesus is able to calm my heart. The amazing this is that he will even give me enough peace to share this with someone else.

So here is my invitation: this Christmas: prepare to make peace.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Goldwing and Trailer.

Today was the Cape Town Toy Run. Thousands of bikes carrying toys for charity. Here I am looking for my retirement bike: a Honda Goldwing trike (so that I do not fall over in my old age). And trailer attached for the luggage. I better start saving.
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Saturday, November 27, 2010

Advent Sunday

Walter Brueggemann: "Advent is an abrupt disruption in our 'ordinary time'…an utterly new year, new time, new life. Everything begins again… While the world around us wraps up another year hoping for increased consumer spending and waiting for annual reports on profits, the church has already stepped into a new time, to begin a season of hoping and waiting for something of much greater significance than profits or spending: for Advent invites us to awaken from our numbed endurance and our domesticated expectations and consider our life afresh in light of the new gifts that God is about to give."

Sunday, October 17, 2010

A Western Province Supporter





For those who do not live in South Africa – Cape Town is situated in the Western Province. It is the superior province in our country. Of course there are some who might disagree with me, suggesting that places like Durban and Pretoria can lay claim to this. From this flows the sporting rivalry that fuels the competitive juices of this nation. Irrespective of whether it is Cricket, Rugby, Football, Tiddlywinks or Jukskei (South Africa are world champions), this is a rivalry that is deeply engraved in the DNA of families, and is passed down from one generation to another.

Yesterday Western Province rugby team defeated the Free State Cheetahs to go through to the finals of the Rugby Curry Cup Competition. This is a provincial rugby competition that saw its inaugural tournament in 1892, where Western Province was the first winner. At the end of this month Western Province will play the Sharks, a KwaZulu-Natal team based around Durban.

And I will be praying for a Western Province win . . . and as many Sharks supporters will be praying for a KwaZulu-Natal win.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Happy 70th Birthday Harry


He is a philanthropic multi-millionaire who began his working life as a filing clerk for a company called Atlas Lamps. Harry Roger Webb was born on 14October 1940, in Lucknow, India, to Rodger and Dorothy Webb. They subsequently moved to England, where Harry finished his schooling at Riversmead School (now Bishopslea).



He became a singer, and was persuaded to change his name to something more substantial: a businessman called Harry Greatorex (tell me that isn’t an invented name!) came up with the name “Cliff” – which was meant to suggest solidity like a rock. Ian Samwell, who wrote Cliffs first song “Move It,” suggested that he use the surname “Richard” in tribute to the rocker Little Richard. And so in 1958 Cliff Richard was launched on a career that has covered seven decades and sold more than 260 million records.

For me the defining tribute is the following comment I found: Cliff Richard believes that he is the "the most radical rock star there has ever been" because of his choice not to adopt the rock-star image of “sex, drugs, and alcohol.” He is evidence of my conviction that rich and deeply satisfying life can be achieved without dependence on chemical assistance.

Happy Birthday Cliff.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Faith



Luk 17:5 The apostles said to the Lord, "Make our faith greater."

This past week has really been a rough week:I have sat with a number of people who are facing deep challenges in their lives:

• My friend Allen Rodgers – lies unconscious in hospital because he was knocked off his bicycle by a hit and run driver.
• My friends Dion and Megan had to sit at the bed of their twelve year old daughter while the doctors explained to her that she had a growth next to her brain.
• Andre is my friend and colleague in Pinelands. In 2005 his wife had an operation for a growth at the base of her skull - and this week they heard that it has grown back and the doctors are recommending another operation – one that will probably sever all the nerves to her face.

You tell me – what should I say to them?

The easy answer is to say to them “to have faith in God” – and yet this is the most difficult answer! Because having faith in God is not a guarantee that prevent bad things from happening!

This is the question that has haunted us thoughout our history:
How can bad things happen to good people? Surely if we follow God’s way then we should be safe / blessed / protected. But the fact is that “Bad things do happen to good people!”

Some people have answered this by suggesting “If only you had more faith – then this would not have happened” And sometimes there is even a suggestion that it is our lack of faith that caused the disaster: and so some people are tempted to ask “What did we do wrong to deserve this?”

But we all know genuinely good people who face disaster: in fact all we need to do is to point to the writer of Hebrews 11:36-37 who speaks of the great suffering endured by people of faith. So there must be more to this than the simple equation “small faith – great disaster”

Some people suggest that this is God’s way of testing our faith: we just need to learn to trust God and everything will be alright! If you only had stronger faith you will survive this disaster. This was the conversation between the disciples and Jesus in the New Testament passage we read earlier:
Luk 17:5 The apostles said to the Lord, "Make our faith greater."
And Jesus turns around and says to them – you do not need more faith! You already have enough to cope with life. What the disciples needed was not more faith – but rather a better understanding of faith. The prayer “Lord make our faith stronger/bigger/more successful/more glamorous” is the stuff of a consumer society that commoditisers everything and then wants ‘bigger/ better / and more successful’ possessions.

The answer of Jesus is that we do not need more – we need to learn to use that which we already have. This is a faith that embraces the challenges and the difficulties and chooses to trust that God will give us strength to cope. This is trusting that whatever life brings my way – I will find God alongside me, giving me strength and teaching me new things about living.

It is not the size of our faith that counts – it is the size of the God we serve.

So let me try to draw some conclusions:
Life is fragile –
 Life is filled with joy and filled with sadness
 Life contains good and bad experiences.
 Life has moments of great comfort and moments of great difficulty.
There are no guarantees in life….. so if we follow God because we think it will keep us safe from disaster, we are mistaken.

It is the child who gets angry and throws a tantrum because things do not work out as I want.
It is the adult who learns to find the faith to accept the things that life brings.

It is the child who demands that Life must work out my way
It is the spiritually mature who learn to accept both the light and the dark in life – and find God in it all.

I have been brought back to this over and over again:
It is my experience that just when I think my faith is strong – I am confronted by problems and difficulties that show me that my faith is weak: and in this moment I learn to trust God.
I cannot trust my faith – I can only trust God.

On a personal note: I have learned this very painfully over the past three months:
I thought that I was settled in the work that I do within Plumstead Methodist Church. I had begun to think of the next 5 years, only to discover that God had other plans: I have been asked to teach at the new Methodist Seminary in Pietermaritzburg. This forced me out of the place where I am comfortable, and has asked me to trust God.

In the process of this I have discovered that God is stretching the faith of the members of this church as well: I have heard some people say “What will we do without you?” and I realised that the members have begun to trust my leadership, rather than to trust God!

So I am reminded that this is God’s church: and we can hear the echo of Jesus words as he says to us : “you have enough faith for the next step.”

Whatever lies ahead of us – we do not need more faith – we need to learn to use the faith we already have.

And so I ask for your prayers. I have felt the pressure to finish my doctoral studies, while at the same time helping finish the year off in this church. But have I have run out of capacity to do everything. I am due my long leave (every 6 years Methodist Ministers get furlough) so I am taking two months off to finish my thesis. Please pray that I might have strength to finish the task – and pray for my congregation that the people might finish the year strong in faith