Lievland Music Festival

I am at a music festival entitled "What we will be doing on a Sunday afternoon". It requires us to sit on the grass next to a dam on a Stellenbosch wine farm and listen to local bands play music.

Jenny and I are here to listen to Nomadic Orchestra - our daughter Jessica's boyfriend Greg plays guitar for this Balkan style band. So we will lie here making the most of a lazy Sunday afternoon's relaxation.

Chalk it up to another hard day in Africa.
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The Call of God

I am at the Synod of the Queenstown District, which is meeting at the E. N. Baartman Methodist Church in East London.

Bishop Mongamele Noqayi reminded us that we can be refreshed by our Christian faith if we are willing to hear the Divine Call. This is call is to "whosoever" - and especially to the weary, the outcast, the poor. This comforts those who struggle, and challenges those who live as if God has no moral call on our lives.

The Bishop noted that while we must criticise the lack of service delivery in our country - we as a church must look to our own delivery. We must move from our old ways into renewal. Bishop Noqayi bluntly warned those circuits that refused to welcome women ministers "to hear God's call to come and be saved."

He concluded with the reminder that all are invited to the Lord's feast: "All in Africa; all in South Africa; all classes, all races, all sexual orientations, all are welcome."
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Those Roots!

Trees are really difficult to remove!

This tree is becoming a problem: it intrudes into the driveway to my home. It also is growing into the sewerage pipes of the neighbor and causing problems with his home’s foundations. So it is coming down.

Phase one was relatively simple : cut off all the branches and take them away. More difficult is getting the tree stump out – you see it has roots! And they help the tree to stubbornly cling to the ground.
Step one : Dig around the base to try to cut the roots.
Step two: Cut around the base to try to weaken its base.
Step three: Attach a rope to the bakkie and pull ...
OK back to step one!!!

And this led me to thinking about my life: as I look back there have been moments when I felt like the ground was being dug away from under me; it felt as if I was being cut into pieces by the many different demands made on my time and energy; it felt as if I was being pulled over by the pressures and responsibilities of my various commitments. But I have been able to keep going because of my roots.

I am rooted in my relationship with Jesus Christ. This is found in reading widely and rigorously- drawing on the reflections of people I agree with, and people who fundamentally disturb me. This is found in the worship of my God – sometimes with other people, and sometimes on my own. This is found in spending time with people who follow the ways of Jesus – some of whom are like me, and some of whom differ completely from anything I believe and do.

It is my roots in my Christian walk, nourished by the Spirit of God, which has kept me married, and kept me fathering my daughters, and kept me in the service of the Methodist Church, and kept me faithful to people who have asked for my help. Without these roots I will fall over.

And so I pray that my Creator will renew my roots for another day of this adventure called life.

Finding Each Other

Seminarians from different traditions - Anglicans, Methodists, Roman Catholics, Lutherans, Congregationalists, Evangelical Non-conformists ... and a bunch of University academics: all worshipped together this evening as part of the Pietermaritzburg Ecumenical Cluster.

Dr Simanga Kumalo, head of the UKZN School of Religion, welcomed us and reminded us that tonight's worship was an act of protest against our division.

And we sang together; and danced togethe; and prayed together; because despite our differences we do belong together as Christ-followers.
Pray that those who follow Jesus will find unity more attractive than division.

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An Attractive Faith

There are some religious people who really annoy me!
These are the people who act as if they alone are right - and anyone who does not see life their way is wrong! These are the people who claim that the way they read their religious text is the only correct interpretation. These are the people who take great pride in stating what is right and wrong - as if they know the mind of God. Their smug self-righteousness is repellent.

St. Paul suggests that our presence should inspire people to thank God. "So they glorified God because of me." (Galatians 1:24)

I pray that my faith practice might make me attractive and not repellent.
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In The Shark Tank

I am in Durban at the Absa Stadium to watch a Super Rugby match between the Sharks and the Brumbies.

This is a lot of firsts for me: first time here; first live rugby this season; and first time supporting the Sharks (but I will support any team that plays against Australians!).

Bring on the players!
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A Symbol has Died.

The headline news this evening - Osama bin Laden was killed by United States soldiers in Pakistan.

Clearly this is good news to the American people. There has been a bitter taste of vulnerability since the bombing of the Twin Towers in New York. At least the USA can lay claim to the adage that the US marshall "always gets his man". But does this make the world a safer place?

I think not.

Bin Laden was just a symbol for a much larger emotion: while his methods are reprehensible, and his suggestion that God blessed his violence is blasphemy, he tapped into a sentiment that has deep resonance: there are many who cheer for the one who resists the American domination of our world.

American interests have fuelled wars in South America, Africa, and the Middle East. For many people America has been experienced as the unpopular policeman of the world. And for many, America has come to represent the Christian voice against Islam.

So when American people dance for joy in the streets at the news of bin Laden's death - this only fuels further anti-American sentiment. The words of Mary Auker Edwards are worth noting:
"Killing one man doesn't end terrorism. Fair and equitable dealings around the world ends terrorism. What a horrific and barbaric country we are to glory in a dead body...."

Let us pray for God's just peace for our world.
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The Royal Wedding

I do not believe in royalty.

Perhaps this has to do with my loyalty to my Scottish forebears. Perhaps because I never was offered the silver spoon to sup with. Perhaps because I am hyper allergic to the culture of celebrity watching. But I think royalty is an anachronism in the 21st Century.

Nobody should be born into privilege. Respect, status, wealth - these should be earned and not inherited.

Do not get me wrong: I wish the newest royal wedding well. I pray that Will and Kate have a happy and fulfilling marriage.

But nobody gets the right by a simple accident of birth to be a royal - or to label someone else a "commoner". We are all equal before God: equally mistaken, equally loved by God, and equally able to live life fully and richly.
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Faith and Understanding

John 20:9 "For they did not yet understand the scripture that Jesus must rise from the dead."

But there was no scripture that the disciples could have used .... Nothing that said "Jesus must rise from the dead"! There is nothing in their religious teaching that they could have fallen back on. All they had was an experience that defied reason.

This is the essence of our Christian belief: that Easter is not reasonable. It is a mystery - something bigger than human reason. This is the time when we affirm that light conquers darkness ... that good overcomes evil ... that life defeats death.

This Easter I choose therefore to celebrate resurrection experiences that lead me to faith. For I too have found new life:

I have found God's call for me to be a Methodist Minister renewed through my involvement this year in the Seth Mokitimi Methodist Seminary.

I have found my commitment to being a Christ-follower in South African renewed as I view life through the vigorous faith of the seminarians.

This Easter has been a moment of a renewed love for my wife Jenny.

As I worshipped with my family and friends in my former congregation in Plumstead, I discovered love and affection that renewed my faith.

And I am grateful.
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Two Oceans Marathon

It all began in 1980.

I ran my first 56km Two Oceans Marathon at the tender age of 23. And have turned up on 28 Easter Saturdays since then to run this race.....

Well not quite.
I have run 21 of the 56km races, and today completed no 7 of the half-marathon race.

Why do I keep coming back? Simply because it is the most beautiful run in South Africa with the best spectator support anywhere!

And I am so privileged to be still running. I know that I am slower, and my knees are sore when they never used to be. And it is harder to get up in the morning to go running.

But I can still put one foot in front of another. And I am grateful.
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A Voice of Beauty

Tonight I heard Sunnyboy Dladla sing. He is the principle tenor for the Messiah in the Cape Town City Hall this weekend. And I wept for the sheer beauty of his voice.

He very nearly didn't become an opera singer, having begun his adult life as a student nurse. When his finances ran out and he couldn't afford to complete his studies, he was brought to Cape Town by his former Mpumalanga classmate Pretty Yende. She persuaded Prof. Angelo Gobbato, then head of UCT Opera School, to listen to him. Seeing his potential the Professor arranged financial assistance for him to study at UCT.

Since then his career has taken off: Sunnyboy has sung in Verona, Italy, a world famous opera centre, and is in demand as one of South Africa's best lyric tenors.

And I count myself privileged to have heard him sing tonight.
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Where God has placed me ....

I am a member of the faculty of The Seth Mokitimi Methodist Seminary (SMMS). This seminary was initiated by the Methodist Church of Southern Africa in order to provide full time, residential seminary training for aspirant ministers as part of their journey to ordination. The seminary also admits into its programmes private students who wish to be formed for transformational leadership within a value-based, spiritual environment. Our purpose is to "form transforming leaders for church and nation by providing the spiritual formation, academic, vocational and practical training required to develop skilled leaders of integrity, faithfulness and excellence".[1]

Our faculty of lecturers hail from near and far: South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Kenya, Rwanda, Jamaica and U.S.A. It is a privilege to be blessed by wisdom and insight from such a wide spectrum of colleagues.

L-R: Christel Robinson, Ross Olivier, Doug Roland, Peter Grassow, Eraste Nyirimana, Jenny Stanier, Sifiso Khuzwayo, Jon-Mark Olivier, Nhlanhla Gumede, Roger Scholtz, Lilian Siwila, Mike Stone, Anne Nixon, Kennedy Ondongwe, Adrian Roux, Cheri Roland, Delme Linscott, Sox Leleki, Kennedy Owino, Wilhelmina Hewitt, Rowanne Marie

Once again, Holy Week will see our seminarians spreading out across the expanse of Southern Africa. They have all been assigned to local church communities to share in proclamation and service under the auspices of local ministers. Please join me in prayer for their safe travel and return. After Easter they will enjoy a few days much-needed rest before tacking the second term of this semester.

[1] This Seminary is registered with the Department of Education (South Africa) as a Private Higher Education Institution under the Higher Education Act (Act No. 101 of 1997) - Registration Certificate Number: 2010/HE08/002

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Christian Palestinians

This morning I was reminded that there are Christians who live in the land of Jesus – which is now known as Palestine!

Today the Seminary was visited by Theodosius (Atallah) Hanna, Archbishop of Sebaste. He is part of a movement called Kairos Palestine, which works to find the way of justice and equality in Palestine, believing that this is the only way that leads to genuine peace.

He originates from the Galilean village of Al Rameh, where he attended local primary and secondary schools before entering the Clerical Patriarchate School in Jerusalem. After graduating with honours at Thessalonica University in Greece in the Faculty of Theology, he went on to complete a master’s degree and doctorate.
In 1991 he was ordained as a deacon and priest in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.



Archbishop Theodosius reminded us that there are Christian Palestinians who suffer as a consequence of Israel’s occupation of Palestine: “Everyone thinks that there is a conflict between Arabs and Israelis. It is not a conflict between Arabs and Israelis, but an occupation by Israel." There are two major Palestinian political groupings: that of Hamas, which is a Palestinian Islamist political party, and Fatah, which is a left-wing nationalist party. Christian Palistinians believe that the Christian faith offers hope for a future without violence and walls. Their Kairos Document is the Christian Palestinians’ word to the world about what is happening in Palestine.

They write:

“It is written at this time when we wanted to see the Glory of the grace of God in this land and in the sufferings of its people. In this spirit the document requests the international community to stand by the Palestinian people who have faced oppression, displacement, suffering and clear apartheid for more than six decades. The suffering continues while the international community silently looks on at the occupying State, Israel. Our word is a cry of hope, with love, prayer and faith in God.”

You can read more at  /http://www.kairospalestine.ps/

Gratitude

Jenny and I celebrate 29 years of marriage today.
We were married in the morning at the Prestbury Methodist Church by the Rev Ray Light, followed by a lunch in the Lutheran Church Hall at Hayfields.

We have been blessed with a good marriage. Jenny deserves a medal for putting up with my cranky ways and single-minded idiosyncrasies. I have made many mistakes, and still have so much to learn about life. I am grateful for her friendship and support.

Coffee in Wartburg

Go to Wartburg and drink coffee.

I fetched Jenny from King Shaka airport and took the road to Tongaat, and then north to Wartburg.

When you see this shop - stop!
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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.

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.

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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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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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.

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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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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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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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 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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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