Finished

PERSONAL DETAILS
Name : PETER GRASSOW
Country : South Africa
Province : Western Province
Club : ACSIS VARSITY OLD BOYS RUNNING CLUB
Gender : Male
Age : 51
Category : Age 50-59 (Master)


RACE INFORMATION
Race Date : Saturday 11 April 2009
Distance : Half (21 km)
Race Number : 53677
Cut-off Time : 03:00 hours


SUMMARY
Finish Time : 02:22:35
Average Speed : 8.879 km/h
Average Speed : 6.757 min/km
Medal : Bronze

crucified

God was executed by people painfully like us, in a society very similar to our own ... by a corrupt church, a timid politician, and a fickle proletariat led by professional agitators.

- Dorothy L. Sayers,
The Man Born to Be King (1943)

We are Cut Down to Size....

South Africa experienced a miracle in 1994.

We moved from an oppressive racially based oligarchy to a democratically elected government. Our law was protected by an internationally acclaimed new constitution. And we boasted leaders of international stature – politicians such as Nelson Mandela, priests like Desmond Tutu; jurists such as Arthur Chaskalson and Albie Sachs; and many eminent writers, musicians and scientists.

We believed that we had something to offer the world. We believed that we had transcended narrow racial boundaries; moved beyond self-serving ideological disputes to build a “rainbow nation”; and were able to make visible the African concept of Ubuntu . I have travelled to various places in the world to speak of our national “miracle” experience….Northern Ireland; York, England; and various Methodist Seminaries in the United States of America.

Today I admit that I have been smugly deluded. I have allowed myself to be blinded by the newness of our land – and have not noticed that the same old things are still happening:
• The Apartheid politicians I despised had developed a system of self enrichment that was gleefully embraced by the new democratically elected representatives of the people. They learned how to inflate travel claims; and create jobs for their friends and family; and cobble together gifts and favours for themselves.
• The amoral Apartheid politicians set up systems with international arms traders that were taken over by the new government. And the same bribes/rewards/incentives were gratefully pocketed.
• The selfish Apartheid leadership manipulated the law to suit their personal agenda – a lesson well learned by this next generation of leaders.

And so today I witness Jacob Zuma, the next President of my country, weasel his way out of being charged for corruption and financial misappropriation of funds. He leads a political party that welcomed international solidarity when they were struggling for power – but now it refuses to stand in solidarity with Myanmar and Tibet. This is the party that enthusiastically embraced Desmond Tutu when he berated the sins of the Apartheid government, but now dismissively insults him when he points out the sins of the current government.

Today South Africa ceased to be something special amongst the nations of the world. We are just another Third World Country, adding to the litany of human rights failures.
BUT: this is my country. I am reminded (once again) that the struggle for liberation is never finished. I have been placed by God in this country to speak for truth. I refuse to give up the dream for a better land for all.

Thou shalt not be a victim.
Thou shalt not be a perpetrator.
Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander.
- Holocaust Museum, Washington, D.C

“being honoured” is a very fickle thing.

Today is Palm Sunday.

It is the day that we are reminded that Jesus was honoured by Jerusalem… but this reminder always lies in the shadow of Good Friday – when Jerusalem stripped him of his honour.
Mark’s Gospel tells of a crowd that gives Jesus great honour.
Mar 11:8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.
Mar 11:9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

But this is a bitter sweet moment…. Because it does not last.
A week later there is another crowd gathered around Jesus:
But this time they are hostile:
Mar 15:12 Pilate spoke again to the crowd, "What, then, do you want me to do with the one you call the king of the Jews?"
Mar 15:13 They shouted back, "Crucify him!"
Mar 15:14 "But what crime has he committed?" Pilate asked. They shouted all the louder, "Crucify him!"

Two crowds – the same man – two different reactions.
Which really illustrates the way we human beings can be shaped by the people around us.

I saw this in this past week of South African history:
1994: Desmond Tutu is the chaplain to the President of the ANC. Nelson Mandela asks him to pray for the nation and the crowds all bow their heads.
2009: The ANC refuse to listen to anything that Desmond Tutu says.
The same man – two different crowds…….

My prayer is that God would continue to strengthen Bishop Tutu. My prayer for him is found in the Palm Sunday Psalm:
Psa 118:26 May God bless the one who comes in the name of the LORD! From the Temple of the LORD we bless you.
Psa 118:27 The LORD is God; he has been good to us. With branches in your hands, start the festival and march around the altar.

Praying Together

Today I am praying.......accompanied by my colleagues Kevin, Mark and Andre.

Bikers

They come in all shapes and sizes. They range from motor mechanics to business executives. Their common love is the motorcycle. The men camped one side of me were school teachers, their bikes were Harley-Davidson wannabees and they ride every day to work; the other side was a farmer from Ottosdal on a BMW touring bike. He admits to riding his bike three time a year... to three different bike rallys.

So we escape from life for a weekend. And we have permission to dress up and strut our stuff. And swear and drink beer and rev the engines of our bikes and do wheelies and generally remind ourselves of what it felt like to be rebellious and carefree.

Then we go home and resume our daily responsibilities.
Feeling just a little bit lighter.
With a glint in the eye.

Bikes

The Morning After

Buffing

Jenny and I are in a tent surrounded by thousands of motorcycles, people, revving bike engines, beer, badges, motherfuckerteeshirts, burnouts, attitude, chrome, music, raw obscenities, braai, popping exhausts, beautiful custom spraypaint..; all adds to the atmosphere of the 2009 Buffako Motorcycle Rally.

Uncle Fred

He was born in 1914.... yes he is 95 years old.

My wife, Jenny, and I went out for dinner with him tonight. He drives his own car, lives in his own apartment, and generally holds his life together better than many who are younger than him.

His day began with a visit to the local nursery to buy some plants for his garden. He played bridge after lunch, wrote some letters, and accompanied us to a local restaurant in the evening. He was fun to be with, displaying a sharp mind, and capacity to engage in conversation on a wide range of topics. He is a perfect gentleman from a bygone age.

Oh yes – he is from another time in history:
His father came to South Africa from Germany before World War One and became a naturalised British citizen. He was a chemist and worked at a factory in Somerset West, where they manufactured explosives for the mines. His mother was born in Germany and moved to (then) German South West Africa. She met Fred’s father while recovering from an operation in Cape Town and they were soon married. Their happy life was disrupted by the advent of World War One, and the arrest of Fred’s father. Although a naturalised British citizen, he was of German birth, and therefore suspect. So he was kept in a camp at Pietermaritzburg for the duration of the war, with Fred and his mother moving to Natal to live nearby. He died soon after his release and Fred and his mother had to fend for themselves.

Fred was apprenticed to a pharmacist. He completed a three year apprenticeship and found work dispensing medicine. This included training an optometrist, because pharmacies also provided eye care. During World War Two, Fred’s job was to supervise 20 mine dispensaries. He later joined a pharmaceutical company, rising to become its CEO.

Uncle Fred retired at 65.... which means that he has been retired for 35 years. I know him to be generous to many of our church projects, kind to lonely people, and determined not to engage in self-pity. His recounts with joy his visit to Germany last year, where his niece took him on the autobahn in her Porsche and generally went faster than we can dream of in South Africa.

I want to grow old like him.

Power

Power is the glue that holds society together.
Everyone has some form of power:
- some people are powerful enough to tell whole nations what to do
- some people have the power to command large companies
- many of us exercise power as parents
- and some of us only have power over the dog.

Whether we command a dog, or command an army: the issue is not how powerful we are – it is what we do with our power that counts.

John’s Gospel Chapter 2 tells a story of how some people used their power to make themselves rich – and in the process make the lives of other people miserable. This is the story of people who came to the temple to pray. They were told that they needed to bring an offering with them. The rich people would bring a lamb and the poor people a dove.
And this is where the problem began: because it could not be just anything. It had to be a perfect gift without any blemish. These gifts were inspected and if there was a defect, then they were rejected…. But wait!
All was not lost, because the temple officials would keep offerings right there in the courtyard. These had already passed the examination…... “For a small fee we can sell them to you”
And so the trading began: And you can imagine a Middle Eastern market… haggling over the price.
 “Trade in your sheep for one of ours”… but the temple sheep were more expensive.
 “Trade in your Roman money for our special temple money”…but the exchange rate has gone up – and it will cost you a bit extra”.

What really happened is that there were some had studied the religious law. These were the people who knew the system, and used it to give themselves power over those who were not as educated. And in the process they became rich.

This is not unfamiliar with us;
This past week we have seen people use the system to give themselves unfair power:
• Bernie Madoff understood the system of the New York stock exchange… and stole $65 billion.
• Schabir Shaik, a very wealthy convicted criminal, used his connections to spend his prison time in hospital until he was set free on medical parole after serving a fraction of his prison time.
• There are officials at the Home Affairs Office in Langa who use their position to grant residence in our country – for a few thousand rands…. cash, no receipts.

This is destructive power.
It is selfish power.
It is power used to benefit some at the expense of others.
Jesus is quite clear – this is not the way God wants us to live.

When the temple officials used their power for enrichment – Jesus overturned the tables of money.
When the inspectors tried to make something on the side with special doves and sheep – Jesus chased the temple animals out of the courtyard.
When the officials tried to stop people from praying without paying – Jesus made a whip and chased them away.
This is another kind of power.
This is power that opposes oppression
This is power that resists exploitation
This is power that confronts corruption
This is power that says no to dishonesty.
This is the Power of God.

Sexually Angry

I am dismayed by the vitriol and anger that human sexuality can generate.

• I have read articles from sexually abused people who want to kill their abusers. I understand this – but discover that the abuser is often one who was abused in his/her past. The abuser is as damaged as the abused. So I do not see how killing someone solves the problem. But I can see that this does provide the satisfaction of revenge.
Sadly the abuser is most often known to the abused. Often this is a family friend or neighbour – someone who is trusted. The betrayal of trust is probably the hardest kind of hurt to heal.

• I have read Christian anger at Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual people. Christians do not agree on this one. While I do not believe that being homosexual is sinful, I can understand how some Christians feel threatened when others disagree with their deepest held convictions. What I do not understand is the crusading zeal that seeks to destroy alternative views.

Jesus never enforced his belief system on other people. His was always an invitation that could be accepted or rejected.

Sadly many gay people have been hurt by Christian crusaders. Some, convinced that their homosexual orientation is sinful, spend their lives feeling guilty about the way they experience human sexuality. Others, seeking to true to their sexuality, are forced to leave the church they love – because some “straight” Christian people cannot cope with them.

Healing might include prayer. It is vital for every hurting person to know that they are loved/treasured by God. But it also must include confession from the perpetrators of the hurt; and wise counselling; and a loving community to provide support and care.

Pray that I might not fail those who are sexually scarred.

Sex

I have been watching Pornography.
And I am amazed at what people will do in front of a camera. I have seen sexual encounters that range from the ridiculous to the cruel: leather thongs, masks, and buckles; couples, threesomes, groups; public nudity, private moments, and voyeurs; old, young and bizarre; and abusive sex.

In case you are wondering, I am preparing for Sunday. I am participating in a teaching series that is using Richard J. Foster’s book “Money, Sex and Power”. This Sunday I will be speaking about sexual brokenness. This will be followed by prayer for those who carry scars from their sexual histories.

What has both fascinated and frightened me is the response of my own body and mind. I have discovered my physical attraction to visual stimulation: but then this is not new. All my life I have been attracted to beautiful women. And naked women are sexually stimulating – except for the site I discovered with naked grannies! At the same time I discovered my mind being titillated by some of the weird stuff: I am at first shocked by seeing someone tied up, or blindfolded, or set up for abusive for sex. And then I wonder... “so what’s next?” This is similar to driving past a vehicle accident scene, where I want to slow down to “have a look”. My mind asks for another shock. And, like the dubious thrill of a frightening theme park roller-coaster, I want to be horrified.

I also feel guilty: What if my wife or daughters catch me watching this stuff? Will my explanation that “I am preparing for Sunday” sound plausible? And I feel guilty at the physical attraction to some of the pictures. Why does my body respond in this way to someone who is not my wife? But then my body has always responded to beautiful women. It is my moral and spiritual boundaries that have regulated what I do/do not do with this response. Which begins to give me a clue where I might go on Sunday:

The fact is that every human being is sexual. We experience our sexuality each day. And we constantly make choices about our response to the sexual stimuli that come our way. Our present sexual activity grows out of our past sexual encounters. We all have made mistakes in the past. Stupidity is not learning from our past mistakes to make informed choices in the present.

So on Sunday I need to offer people a way of making peace with their past. We do not need to carry the scars from bad sexual encounters into our futures. God can heal us, and allow us to function as sexually healthy people in the present.

I am posting this blog in the hope that those of you who visit will offer me advice.
What would you say to my congregation on Sunday?

30 minutes.

I will commit myself to half an hour of silence in the middle of each day of Lent. This will be a time of sitting still and doing.... nothing.
12 o'clock will be a moment to stop the headlong rush of my day and pause.
It will be a moment to remember those who suffer.
It will be my moment of listening to my breathing. And trusting that the Creator will breathe with me for a moment.
Why not join me? All it takes is 30 minutes a day.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday.
It is the first day of Lent, which marks the beginning of an intentional Christian journey towards Easter.

Lent is intended as 40 days of reflection and spiritual growth. Just like Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days, so the ‘desert experience” of Lent invites us to fast/abstain from something. This absence in our lives then acts as a reminder to self examination and prayer.

Why am I telling you all of this? I think that this ancient tradition offers us a spiritual tool to take apart our lustful culture. We live in an acquisitive culture that seeks to persuade us that we deserve all those things that we think bring us pleasure: food, possessions, toys, comfort and flattery. Lent is the spiritual opportunity to say “NO” to this cultural seduction. It is the moment to be reminded that true contentment is not found in serving the demands of our lusts. As we choose to do without something, we are offered an opportunity to discover the richness of simplicity. We are also offered an opportunity to share (in a very small way) in the struggle of those who do not have all the opportunities that we do.

So allow me to encourage you to use Lent 2009. You won’t be less of a person for not participating in Lent. It’s really not about Lent - it’s about resisting the cultural invasion of our souls. Whether you feel you need to give something up for Lent or not, take a moment to do some of your own soul-searching and repentance.

Pray:
* That the greedy rulers of Zimbabwe become compassionate.
* That the greedy leaders of South Africa become generous.
* That the greedy thoughts of our hearts become kinder.

Spreading her Wings

She is the other side of the world.
Lisa, my oldest daughter, graduated from UCT at the end of 2008. She has now 'taken the gap' and finds herself in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. This required initiative in getting herself there, finding accomodation and work, and negotiating her way through all the red tape of passports and visas and banks. I believe that it is the task of parents to help our children develop their own independence. But I am finding it hard to imagine 'my little girl' driving in a foreign land, organising her own finances, and sorting out her own values and norms. Lisa has growed up!

And I am proud of her.

celebrating 300

So this is my 300th Blog posting. What began as a place for my thoughts to be stored has morphed into a place to express frustration, share joy, offer opinions, and generally get stuff out of my system. I am also amazed at how many people have popped in for a visit. And I am blessed with the many friendships that have come via the blogosphere.

I am grateful to people like Denise for her wonderfully rich writing; to Wessel and Dion for their inquiring minds; to two student ministers: Jenny H and Jen T for their enthusiams for the Gospel of Jesus; and to David and Steve for their skill in asking the difficult questions of life.

There are many more wonderful places out there. I found the following comment on the greed embedded in our market driven economy at asbojesus. This site is worth a visit:

I believe in Greed, the Market Almighty,
the creator of Money,
and in the Profiteer,
His only Son our Lord:

Who was conceived of the Capitalist,
born of the free market economy,
suffered under His own pompous piracy,
crucified himself, died and was buried.

We descended into Recession.

The third day he rose again from the dead.

He ascended into profit
and sits at the right hand of Greed the Market Almighty,
whence he shall come to fleece the living and the dead.
I believe in the holy catholic bank, the communion
of bankers, the covering of their sins, the resurrection
of the economy, and riches everlasting.

found at asbojesus.

...taking only what you need....

In the light of this week's budget speech of South Africa's Finance Minister, Trevor Manuel.
And of the stimulous plan of American President Obama:


"If one had taken what is necessary to cover one's needs and had left the rest to those who are in need, no one would be rich, no one would be poor, no one would be in need."

- Saint Basil,
fourth century theologian and monastic

Thank you

I had a great weekend:
Saturday morning was spent with the extended family: we had a late breakfast for 12 of us. This included my sister and her children, and my parents. It was great to have time to talk, without the pressure of time. Plenty of laughter and joy in being a family.

Saturday afternoon I met up with congregation members from a previous church. They came to tea, and I enjoyed catching up on the friendship. It did not matter that 8 years have passed, or that they are much older than us – it was great to see them.

The two Sunday morning Church services were a joy. I worshipped with kind, generous people who laughed at my jokes, welcomed strangers amongst us, and were able to share one another’s joys and struggles. They were patient with Audrey, while she spoke about struggling to understand banking (she was supposed to encourage people to place a stop order on their accounts in favour of the church). They loved dear cerebral-palsied Jenny through her spasms. They were kind to someone who recently faced a family suicide. And they were accepting of our Zimbabwean guests.

I shared Sunday lunch with my colleagues in this circuit. They and their families came together over lunch and we laughed and relaxed in our mutual respect and friendship. And I treasure their care and support.

I led worship at the church of a colleague in the next door circuit. I am helping Kevin to rebuild the evening worship team (who were destroyed when the previous leader threw a tantrum and walked out along with the team members). It was a very hot evening – but “cool worship”. And I count myself privileged to be welcomed into their church.

Then the family got together to play 60 seconds and eat pudding. Lisa leaves for the USA tomorrow for 6 months. So we decided to spend the evening together. Mainly laughed at each other’s attempts to describe things unknown, and enjoyed to moment of being a family.

The photograph is of my wife Jenny and me.

I count myself greatly privileged.... immensely wealthy ..... deeply joyful.

The Ship is Sinking

The Church is falling apart.
There are factions that each try to get their own way. Different groups think that they are right and say that others are wrong. Each side has strong leaders who use our faith as a weapon. And the different groups sing, pray and claim Jesus’ blessing for their cause.

Oh – do you think I am describing your church? No, I am referring the Christians of Acts Chapter 15.
Act 15:1 Then certain individuals came down from Judea and were teaching the brothers, "Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved." ........Paul and Barnabas had no small dissension and debate with them.....
Act 15:39 The disagreement became so sharp that they parted company; Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus.
Here is the “body of Christ” divided by dogma, and culture, and history, and ideology. Factions strive for control, and use church rules to retain power. And there is very little trust in one another.

Which feels a lot like the Christian Church I experience today. We Christians are completely divided over issues like homosexuality, women Bishops, interpreting the Bible and methods of sharing human wealth. We hold synods and conferences as platforms to advance our agendas. And we convene pressure groups and garner votes. And we all claim to follow Jesus. The ship is sinking under the weight of our politics and desires. And it seems to me that the church has always been sinking – ever since the beginning.

I want to abandon this ship before it sinks. I do not trust the captains of this ship – Bishops and National Christian Leaders are the bane of my life. They have ulterior motives to their platitudes, and little interest in my struggles as a church pastor. It is as if the process of moving from local church leadership to regional leadership transforms decent Jesus-followers into followers of their own darker selves. I also have no faith in the direction of Church Conferences/Synods/Conventions/Gatherings. The stirring statements and the carefully corrected doctrinal positions of the national and inter-national church are the product of pressure groups and caucuses. A strategic use of meeting protocol will get an astute person almost any desired outcome.

There are some who say “The church is not great – but it is the best option there is”. Well I disagree. There are better organisations that the church – organisations that offer unconditional comfort, love and care to broken people in ways that the church has yet to learn. The church is floundering on the rocks with very little to offer our world.

This said, I am committed to this ecclesiastical ship. This has nothing to do with its ability to float. I know that this ship will not save me. I do not stay because I have faith in the organisation. I stay because I have faith in God. It is the call of God that keeps me here. I experience this as a deep, abiding knowledge that this is where I should be. I experience this in the accountability to friends and colleagues who I trust. I experience this in serving the people given to me by God.

In staying, I have discovered a deep joy in serving a local congregation.
I have experienced awe and wonder in the faith of anonymous people who follow Jesus with honesty and integrity. I have been encouraged by people who turn up week by week to share a faith expressed in the symbols of bread and wine, to share communal worship, and even to listen to my reflections on faith and scripture. I am humbled by their willingness to love me in all my imperfections. I am encouraged by their stories of struggle and joy. I am all too aware that my own faltering faith is kept alive by the wonderful people who choose to meet me each week.
And I am grateful that God has called me.

This is a calling that holds me on the crumbling deck.
This is a calling that will not allow me to jump ship.
So I stay.
And I fight fires.
And I trim the sails.
And I plug leaking holes.
And I encourage fellow sailors.
And I will do this until God tells me to stop.


Postscript:
1. You can see that I write from within a large denominational church. I have no clue what it feels like to be in an independent/congregational model of church.
2. You will also understand that I am not planning to leave this church.

Road Trip

I am on a road trip with my daughter Lisa. We loaded up my trusty GS11.50 and headed for Rooi Els, via Gordon's Bay. The menu at the pub said 'bikers breakfast' and we took it. The photograph is of Lisa looking back at the route we have taken from Cape Town. We continued along the coast through Hermanus, turning inland at Stanford. Tonight we sleep at Swellendam. It is a joy to be able to share such amazingly beautiful country with Lisa. It is also a privilege to have time together to talk, remember the past, dream of the future, and fix the world. I treasure our friendship.

A Bike Day

There was a baker, a builder, a bass guitar player and four more of us.


We all come from different backgrounds, different histories, and a variety of perspectives on life. But the one thing we have in common is a love of motorcycles. So we mounted our bikes at 10 this morning for a ride.

Other people play golf on a Wednesday. We ride bikes. In fact we ride bikes on the other days too – but today we rode together......
And headed up the West Coast Road, turning off to Darling for coffee at Evita se Perron. Then on through Malmesbury to Riebeeck Kasteel for a long leisurely lunch. Followed by a quick-ish trip through Wellington, Stellenbosh and back to Cape Town.


A great ride through fantastically beautiful country. And a wonderful opportunity to meet new strangers who very quickly became familiar friends.
All it takes is two wheels and an engine.

Blessings

If the world were a village of only 100 people:
• 80 would live in substandard housing.
• 67 adults live in the village; and half of them would be illiterate.
• 50 would suffer from malnutrition.
• 33 would not have access to clean, safe drinking water.
• 24 people would not have any electricity.
• Of the 76 that do have electricity, most would use it only for light at night.
• In the village would be 42 radios, 24 televisions, 14 telephones, and 7 computers (some villagers own more than one of each).
• 7 people would own an automobile (some of them more than one).
• 5 people would possess 32% of the entire village’s wealth, and these would all be from the USA.
• The poorest one-third of the people would receive only 3% of the income of the village.
Therefore:
If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof
overhead and a place to sleep you are richer than 75% of this world. If
you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish,
you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.

And if you get this on your own computer, you are part of the 1% in the
world who has that opportunity.

http://www.miniature-earth.com/

The “State of the Village Report,” originally published by Dartmouth professor Donella Meadows in 1990, was used to calculate the statistics which many of us have seen in the form of an email titled "Village of 100." If the world’s population were reduced to 100 people, what would our global village look like? Since 1990, Ms. Meadows’ research has been circulated through millions of email inboxes and shared in thousands of classrooms, mine included. The updated version published by the Miniature Earth Project includes recent population statistics from the UN and the Population Reference Bureau.

Barack Obama

Barack Obama has my prayers – and sympathy.

President Obama has been elected by voters who anticipate change.... and lots of it. He also has support from people around the world who long for a different experience of Americans. But the reality is that any change he brings will only be as effective as the myriads of civil servants who have to put it into practice. All governing systems have people within it who benefit from the status quo. These are the people who found ways to profit from the governance of George Bush. And these are the people who will resist President Obama.

Let us pray for President Obama: that he has the wisdom to know how best to move the levers of power. And let us pray for God to soften the hardened hearts of those who have no wish to change. And let us pray for the United States of America – that this nation will choose to be less arrogant and become more sensitive to those who struggle in life.

Are You Going to Finish Strong?

I have seen too much bullshit.
And so I am often a cynical, life-hardened, grizzled old bugger. But I have just seen a video clip that blows me away:

Nick Vujicic has no arms or legs but has come to terms with his life. And he delivers an inspirational speech to school kids that they will probably never forget. Go to http://www.maniacworld.com/are-you-going-to-finish-strong.html



I refuse to complain about my life ever, ever, again.

Marriage in Africa

I am at a wonderful wedding at Spier called Moyo. This is a venue that seeks to bring an African theme to the evening. The afternoon began with drumming and ululating women who escorted the bride to the guests. After the vows we were danced out by the drummers. And later a praise singer opened the feast while our faces were painted in traditional style. I am privileged to live in such a wonderful part of the world.

Gaza

For those who have been following the terrible pain of the Gaza Strip:
This past week Israel dropped one hundred tons of bombs on the Gaza Strip. They demolished government buildings, mosques, a university, a United Nations School, hundreds of homes. In the process they extinguished many lives — most of them ordinary men, women and children who are penned up inside this ghetto .

Alex Awad, dean of students at Bethlehem Bible College, notes that “There is no doubt that the Qassam rockets launched against the western Negev and Ashkelon by Islamic militants linked to Hamas cause great pain and anxiety for many Israelis. Most people agree that Israel, like any other country, has the right to defend itself from outside attacks. However, when it comes to dealing with its enemies, Israel has a pattern of being extreme. “An eye for an eye” does not satisfy. It has to be more like one hundred eyes for one eye and one hundred teeth for one tooth”.

Mahatma Gandhi once said that “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”. This cycle of violence has blinded everyone. And somewhere, someone needs to soften their hearts. I came across Sarit Hadad singing Shema’ Israel — the title recalls the ancient words of the daily foundational prayer, the Shema’ (Dt 6:4) — When the heart shuts up, every breath cries out, make it stop...

When the heart is crying, time stops moving
in an inkling a man sees his whole life pass
to the unknown he does not want to go
to his God he calls, on the edge of the abyss

Hear Israel, my God, you can do all
you gave me my life, you gave me all
in my eyes a tear, silently the heart cries
when the heart shuts up, one’s breath cries out

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless you with discomfort,
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger,
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears,
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their
pain to joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness,
to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done
to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor

Amen.

This poem is a Franciscan Benediction found in Phillip Yancey's book "Prayer".

O Come...

O come, all ye faithless, beat up, and defeated
Come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem
Come and behold him, born the Friend of Sinners
O come, let us adore him
O come, let us adore him
O come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord

Sing, choirs of vagrants, sing for inspiration
Sing, all ye citizens on earth below,
Glory to God, giving us new courage
O come, let us adore him O come, let us adore him
O come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord

Yea Lord, we greet Thee
born to bring us joy
Jesus, to Thee be all glory given
Hope for the Hopeless, now in flesh appearing
O come, let us adore him
O come, let us adore him O come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord

- adapted by J. Barrett Lee, and readapted by P. Grassow

No Sex Please – It’s Christmas

Virginity was not always a Christian virtue.
And neither was Mary always a virgin.

The concept of virginity is older than Christianity. People believed in female virgin gods who protected wildlife, the harvest and natural woodlands. The virginity of the Vestal Virgins was thought to bring luck to the Roman populace. Occasionally, virgins were sacrificed as especially potent offerings (seven male and seven female virgins to the Cretan Minotaur, Iphigenia). Somehow human beings linked the absence of sexual activity with spiritual purity.

And then came Christianity. And idea of purity was indelibly linked to spiritual purity through the ultimate Virgin - Mary the mother of Jesus. The argument went something like this: the Lord and Saviour of all could not have come from an ordinary mother. She needed to be spiritually pure. And so Christianity borrowed from the Graeco/Roman concepts of virginal purity and suggested that Mary remained a virgin. This was a virginity before becoming mother to Jesus, and forever afterwards. (And some would add even during giving birth to Jesus.)

Why would a lack of sexual experience render anyone pure? One can be a glutton, or a covetous egotist, or an emotionally manipulative schemer, but your virginity guarantees your spiritual purity. Or does it mean that if you are a virgin then these sins will never enter your life?

And so Christmas rolls around – and people venerate Mary for remaining a “Virgin most pure” and fuck themselves silly at office parties and New Year binges. Like the ancient Romans, we want virgins for good luck – just as long as that virgin is not me!

(The photograph is taken by Margolove and is posted at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/margolove/2072512680/)

Nakedpastor

For those who asked me about the drawing of Jesus with two weeks to go - it is done by David Hayward, who describes himself as "an artist trapped inside a pastor’s body". Go and check him out here.

Defending a Woman's Integrity

She was an unmarried pregnant girl. Probably fifteen or sixteen years old. To complicate matters she was engaged to be married, but her fiancée was not the father of her baby. To make matters worse she lived in a rural village that was bound by years of religious tradition that expected girls like her to be stoned to death.

Read more about this in Matthew 1: 18-25.

This is a common story that still ranges across the communities of our world.
• 4 May 2007: Du’a Khalil Aswad was beaten, kicked and stoned for 30 minutes at the hands of a lynch mob before one of her attackers launched a carefully aimed fatal blow. The murder was carried out in public, watched by hundreds of men cheering and yelling. Du’a’s crime? To fall in love with a Sunni boy. Her family practised the Yezidi religion
• Tehran, 5 Feb 08: Two sisters have been sentenced to death by stoning in Iran for allegedly committing adultery. Lawyer for the sisters, Jabbar Solati, said they faced the death penalty after a previous sentence of 99 lashes had been carried out. The two sisters, Azar and Zohreh Kabiri, 27 and 28 years-old respectively come from the suburb of Shahriar, north of Tehran. Both are accused of an extra-marital affair and each has one child.
• Tehran, 18 Feb. 08: A man known as Sharif has reportedly stoned his fourteen-year-old daughter to death in southeastern Iran because for allegedly having a relationship with a man.
• On 28 October 2008 Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow, 13, was killed by 50 Somali men who stoned her in a stadium in Kismayu in front of about 1,000 spectators.

Each of these situations is about men who are more powerful than women. And each required a man to stand up and defend the woman. This week in our church life we remember such a man: he was Joseph of Nazareth. He took the pregnant woman as his wife and defended her honour (Matt 1:24). And Mary gave birth to Jesus – and the rest is history! If more men were willing to defend women against men, we would have the possibility of a better society. Let us all learn from the example of Joseph.

Plenty of Potential

This week we hosted 150 children and 34 leaders.

My church runs a holiday club in the first week of the December school holidays. This is a free public service to our community, which is intended to assist parents who do not know what to do with their children while they go to work. The children are with us from 8:30 – 1:00 every day and are kept occupied with songs, crafts, games and a teaching component (2008 theme was accepting one another – in the light of the Xenophobia of this year).

It is an awesome privilege to work with both the children, and the holiday club leaders. I see this as an opportunity to show love to children, many of whom come from homes where parents are stressed, or absent. It is also an opportunity to develop leadership skills. The leaders are mostly in High School, with the senior leaders being University Students.

We have done this for 31 consecutive years – and now we are getting the children of parents who themselves were in holiday club. These parents have gone on to live full and interesting lives – often in other parts of the world. And I want to believe that we have had a part in uncovering the gifts God has given them, and encouraging them to trust God’s love for themselves.

I am extremely proud of the dedication of the leaders, who run the week with no thought of their own comfort or needs. They are the heroes of this week.

The Second Advent

The depletion of a contemporary recognition of the radically political character of Advent is in large measure occasioned by the illiteracy of church folk about the Second Advent and, in the mainline churches, the persistent quietism of pastors, preachers, and teachers about the Second Coming. That topic has been allowed to be preempted and usurped by astrologers, sectarian quacks, and multifarious hucksters. Yet it is impossible to apprehend either Advent except through the relationship of both Advents.

-William Stringfellow

Proud Dad

There are moments to brag - and today is one of them.
Because my daughter Lisa graduated today, with a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Cape Town.

Over the past few years she has struggled with a hormonal disorder that drained all her energy. She often struggled to concentrate, and even more often needed to sleep when she got back from her lectures. But she persevered. And I am proud of her persistence.

A Cup of Tea

Lead me from death to life,
from falsehood to truth.
Lead me from despair to hope,
from fear to trust.
Lead me from hate to love,
from war to peace.
Let peace fill our hearts,
our world, our universe.
Peace, peace, peace.
- Satish Kumar



Satish Kumar is an Indian, currently living in England, who has been a Jain monk and a nuclear disarmament advocate. In 1962 Satish Kumar and a companion undertook a peace walk from India to the four corners of the nuclear world: Moscow, Paris, London and the U.S. They decided to carry no money on their trip, which they called it a 'Pilgrimage for peace'.

While on their way to Moscow they met two women outside a tea factory. After explaining what they were doing one of the women gave them four tea bags, one to be delivered to each of the leaders of the four nuclear powers and to also deliver a message, “when you think you need to press the button, stop for a minute and have a fresh cup of tea”. This further inspired their journey and became in part the reason for it. They eventually delivered the 'peace tea' to the leaders of 4 of the nuclear powers.

He is the guiding spirit behind a number of ecological, spiritual and educational ventures in Britain. Satish teaches, lectures and runs workshops internationally on reverential ecology, holistic education and voluntary simplicity.

remember

Toy Run 08

They came in their thousands
• 8 000 motorbikes
• 24 000 toys
• And countless thousands of spectators lining the route and filling Maynardville showgrounds.

Today was Cape Town’s annual Charity Toy Run (the Teddy Bear Run). I proudly stuck my blond little cutie doll on the front of the bike; my brunette little cutie climbed on the back of the bike and we joined thousands of bikes on the M5 highway.

It was a spectacle of biking: everyone who owned two wheels was there: along with the thundering Harleys and the engine popping Yammies and Suzies, were chemist delivery bikes, schoolboys on 125’s; ancient scooters put-putting at 60kph; a one armed rider, and chrome and rubber and noise. Everyone was a hero for the day. Everyone carried a toy, which was delivered at Maynardville for Christmas presents. And Everyone shared in a happy moment that was community life in Cape Town.

And I loved every moment of it.

Sharing Our Blessings

United States President-elect Barack Obama was asked in an interview with Barbara Walters of ABC News if U.S. banking executives should forgo large bonuses. He replied:
“I think they should. That's an example of taking responsibility. I think that if you are already worth tens of millions of dollars, and you are having to lay off workers, the least you can do is say, 'I'm willing to make some sacrifice as well, because I recognize that there are people who are a lot less well off, who are going through some pretty tough times.’"

Perhaps we all can decide that Christmas is not the moment for getting, but instead an opportunity for giving. There are many people in desperate conditions this Christmas: For example an outbreak of cholera in Zimbabwe has killed 300 people. Thousands of people are fleeing across the border with sick relatives to South Africa for treatment. Health workers in Zimbabwe and South Africa see this situation as a national disaster.

Perhaps you and I can find ways of finding someone who is not experiencing Christmas-time as a blessing. And we can make some sacrifice to help someone else so that they can find joy in this season.

Will You Go.....?

“Will you go where you are sent?”

This question is asked of every Methodist Minister when we candidate for the ministry of this church. And we all say “yes” – because if we do not then we will not be accepted! Of course we do not admit this at the time, saying instead that we really want to serve Jesus and will trust that “God knows best for my life”. But as the years pass this question is not as simple to answer as it might have been at candidature.

This is because we have other obligations that demand responsible choices of us. For example: Is my promise to go where the church sends me greater than my marriage promise to honour my wife in her choices of career, or housing preferences? I also have discoved that there are dark and devious places in this church to which I have given my life: the kind of dark places that will move me to solve other people’s political agendas, or to fill a gap caused by someone else’s mistakes. And so I am drawn into taking responsibility for my assent to the places the church wants to move me. “Will you go” continues to be a question that haunts each of us who work for this church.

After 30 years working for this church, I was again asked this question. My church leadership wanted someone to move immediately to Pretoria to take up a training post. I knew that I would go alone because my wife has a deeply fulfilling job here in Cape Town, and my children are committed to studies at the University of Cape Town. I knew too that I am not free to immediately abandon the congregation that I am serving. I tried suggesting that the job could be done from Cape Town, but the leadership disagreed.

So I did not get the job... mainly because I was given the privilege of being free to choose. And I realise that the tension between freedom of choice and the consequences of my choices will always be with me. And I continue to trust that my life has significance in the dreams of God.

Bikers

There were five bikes in a row ... an even split between Dakars and GS 650’s and right at the end a classic thumper: an XT 500. And on the stoep of the restaurant were their owners tucking in to a traditional breakfast of sausage, eggs and bacon.

I left Port Elizabeth at 6am, scampering through a drizzle all the way down the Garden Route. It only stopped raining at Plettenberg Bay, where I stopped to refuel, before pushing on to Albertinia. Which is where I found this posse of bikers. They were returning from a bike rally in Heidelberg, 80 km down the road. They were a group of older guys (yes... I know “Like me”) who had thinning hair and age-lined faces. They were not trying to be “heavy bikers” – in fact one of them was wearing a floppy gardening hat, while another wore a flimsy jacket from Macro. And their conversation went something like this:
“Thanks for waiting for me guys”
“Well that’s what we do”
“When I go over 100kph the front wheel begins to drift”
“That’s because your thumper can’t go any faster”
“Well I didn’t know what to do – so I just moered on”
“No broer – you just throttle back and the compression will pull you right”

And I treasured this moment: this was not about bragging who had the best wheels, or who could do the best wheelie. These men were respectful of their friendship; they hung together; they were brother bikers – and when they pulled off they surrounded the XT 500 and ensured that he was part of the group.

Going up a Hill

The ride from Port Elizabeth to Grahamstown took me from the sea crashing alongside the road up into mist shrouded hills that dripped tiny water droplets down my neck. The road has some wonderful sweeping corners, and more than enough undulating hills that invite a biker to twist the right wrist wide open This monastery is just outside Grajamstown, where I will spend the next 4 days in silence. Well not totally silent, because I will join the monks in their regular cycle of prayer through the day. .

Chrismas requests

Today I managed to sort out my Christmas wish list. Father Christmas was visiting the local Port Elizabeth mall and we agreed on the important items: I really need some stuff - like wisdom in knowing when to offer my daughters advice and when to trust their judgement and keep my mouth shut; and stuff like big ears to listen more carefully to my wife before forming an opinion; and stuff like many hours of patience with the WP rugby team and the Stormers Tri-nations team - oh yes, also a few stocking fillers like a laptop, and a Garmin GPS, and a new pickup for my 12 string guitar..... nothing complicated really. And I thanked His Red Whiskership for his help and wished him well over the next month of listening to lust and desire. Who knows - perhaps somewhere we might look past our acquisative impulses and ask for an encounter with the Christ who inspired the season.

Waiting

Today I flew from Port Elizabeth to Johannesburg and back. And i seemed to spend so much time just waiting. I was summonsed by head office to interview for a job, which exposes the tension between being pastor to a local church and being at the disposal of my Bishop. I am committed to my local congregation for three more years, but the Bishops of the church can give me other work too. But today the work was in the waiting. I waited an hour to board the aircraft. I flew for 90 minutes. I waited 90 minutes to be collected in Johannesburg. I waited an hour after the interview for a lift back to the airport. And now that my flight has been delayed I will have waited 3 hours to catch the 90 minute flight bck to PE. Today I have learned two things: the vast majority of my fellow citizens wait patiently every day for transport, while I am amongst the fortunate few who does not wait because I own private transport. Secondly, if I get given this new responsibility I will get a laptop to cope with airports.

Downhill all the Way

Uniondale was the result of two villages (each centred around a Dutch Reformed Church) combining into one town. Sadly there are still two Dutch Reformed Churches, divided racially. The coloured Dominee was recently invited to preach in the 'other' church and members walked out to begin their own racially pure church. The trip from Uniondale was an easy 3 hour run. I encountered mist and rain, but the riding was an easy downhill run. One of the joys of being on a motorcycle is the immediacy of the environment to the senses. The wet earth leaves a rich loamy air. At Kareedouw I noted the pungent smell of tarred log poles. And passing Jeffries Bay brought the tangy salt air of this world renowned surfing heaven. I am now in Port Elizabeth ... This photograph is of my bike ioutside the Westering Methodist Church where my friend (and colleague) Charmaine is the minister.

Wet and Wild

I am in Uniondale. And this guesthouse, run by Sue, is exactly what I need so that I can recover from a day of gusting winds and continuous rain. Riding over DuToits Kloof Pass was made interesting by the tree branches littering the road (on principle no biker goes through the tunnle because we get charged the same as a car and trailer). I crossed the bridge at the entrance to Montagu with water just easing over the edge onto the road. The traffic authorities closed the road soon after this. Lunch at the Country Pumpkin in Barrydale is obligatory because the owner personally welcomes bikers, offering a tot of Old Brown and ensuring that each biker leaves with a Route 62 metal badge.

Road Trip

Tomorrow I get on my BMW 11:50 GS and head west out of Cape Town.
It will be raining so I will be wearing rain gear over my bike jacket, leather pants and bike boots.
And I will feel great.
Because I will be on leave for two weeks.

From Cape Town through Robertson and up Route 62 to Port Elizabeth. And to Grahamstown. And home along the Garden Route.

I will spend some time with my friend and colleague Charmaine. And I will spend some time praying in a Benedictine Monastery. And in between I will be riding my motorcycle.

I will keep you posted.

Breakfast with Jacob Zuma

I am eating breakfast with Jacob Zuma.... and anorher hundred or so people. The Cape Town Press Club has invited the ANC President to speak. And I am curious. I do not agree with Jacob Zuma and dislike his personal moraliry. But he is a powerful politician who profoundly affects our country. He is a charming man with a sense of humour and a lovely chuckle. He is good at responding warmly to hostile questions. And like any good politician he avoids answering difficult questions by offering pleasantaries and a smile. I still do not agree with Jacob Zuma, but I will admit that he is wonderfully warm and friendly.

Later:
I am back home, and on reflection I am deeply uncomfortable with Jacob Zuma: He is good at reading his audience and keeping them happy. But he would not answer the questions that really matterted:
* Should he not reploy Thabo Mbeki away from mediating in Zimbabwe? he said that it was up to SADEC to deal with Zimbabwe, and that the ANC could not take a position on this matter.
* Should he not stop singing Umshini wam? He agreed that we must oppose any political violence and teach the young people to live peacefully - while ignoring the question
* Should he not silence Julius Malema? Zuma said that Malema is like any other hot headed young man who will mature with time. "Even Nelson Mandela was hot headed as a young man". But he did not say that he opposed Malema's utterances.
* Would is not be good to keep the current President of South Africa in office for a five year term for the sake of stasbility? Zuma replied that he had no opinion on this because he was the servant of the ANC.

Personally, I do not want someone who keeps us warm and fuzzy - I want a leader who is willing to stand up and give an opinion. And Jacob Zuma did not do this.

Running

I used to be a runner.

In fact I have run lots (and lots) of very long road races, many more 21km races, and countless 10km races as training runs. But I have stopped running. As I wonder why, I realise that it is because I have achieved all the goals I set for myself: I built a clock out of the 12 medals from the 90km Comrades Marathon; I got my double blue number for the 56km Two Oceans (more than 20 races); I ran a sub three hour marathon, a 94 minute 21km, and a 40 minute 10km race. And so I ran out of motivation to run.

Now my legs are tired, my knees are sore, I am 15kg heavier, and I am grumpy.
So I have decided to run the Two Oceans Half marathon (21km). This asks me to begin from scratch. I have not run since the middle of March. And I am asking you to help me:

For those who believe that God is the great Rule Giver: please send me messages from time to time reminding me that my salvation depends on me reading running books every day, and running regularly, and donating 10% of my time to the road, and confessing each moment when I failed to meet my training targets. You can add a rebuke such as: “You need to reform your life”, or “You are backrunning (aka ‘backsliding’), or “You will not be part of the crowd on the Great day of Reckoning.

For those who believe God to be Grace and Love and Peace: please send me messages that encourage me to see benefit in my suffering, and to discover that I am accepted on the road ‘just as I am’, and that all are welcome to run – even someone who has lost the faith as badly as me – and that I must run with determination because that great cloud of witnesses is waiting for me.

For those who look instead to the power of books, please send me messages that ask me to pursue “the Road Less Travelled”, and discover the “Long Road to Freedom”, and take “the Long Way Round”.

Just do not tell me that I am fat, and old, and lazy.