On trials & steadfastness...

From the FighterVerses blog on August 29, commentary on James 1:12, "Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.". (Read the full original post here: http://www.fighterverses.com/blog-post/how-do-we-remain-steadfast-in-trials/)


"…People who turn away from God under trial show that they treasure a trial-free existence more than they treasure God.

God's people do not treasure a thornless life. Their chief aim is not to a have a tribulation-free existence. Their chief aim is to see Christ glorified and to be satisfied in the sight of his glory, and this is why they can remain steadfast under trial.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 a trial came to Paul in the form of a thorn in the flesh, and Paul pleaded with God to take it away. God chose to let Paul remain with the thorn in the flesh. Did Paul then forsake God, saying, "What good is it to follow you if I don't achieve what I really want through you?" No. Rather, he began to see his trial as something to boast in, because he saw that Christ was being glorified—Chris's strength & grace were becoming more evident—in Paul's weakness. This is where steadfastness under trial comes together with love for God. Paul's treasure was not a thornless existence, it was Jesus glorified. He loved God, more than anything."

Amen and amen! Lord, I'm certainly not there yet, but may trials increase my steadfastness and my love for you.

When the Lights Go Out

So, last Wednesday, I woke up in the middle of the night and glanced over at my clock to see the time. But, my clock was dead—power's out, I realized, and rolled over and went back to sleep. Now, power outages at my house are not too uncommon. In Sosh, and I think in most of South Africa, instead of paying a bill at the end of the month for how much power you have used, you prepay and then reload as you get low. I don't entirely understand how it works, but basically you have an account and you go to certain places (corner stores, random people's homes, gas stations, etc.) and give them money and they top-up your account and then you go home and type in some code into your little power meter box and the lights stay on. Well, the power goes out at my host family's house several times each month. I think it's a situation of everyone thinking someone else is going to re-load the account, but then it gets down to zero and zap, lights go out. This usually only lasts a few hours each time since as soon as it happens, someone makes their way to top-up and then the lights come back on. So, that's what I thought had happened on Wednesday…the power meter ran out overnight and it would need to be topped-up when the family woke up. But then, when I was getting ready in the morning, I checked with my next door neighbor just to verify my suspicions that it was just our house. "No lights!" she said. Hhmm…this was a different problem than I had anticipated! The infrastructure in Sosh certainly has some bumps and issues, but I had only experienced one other large-scale power outage since January and it was resolved within a few hours. So, that's what I was hoping for.

I made my way to Block HH for our usual team meetings and learned that power was out there too! This was not good, but at least it meant it wasn't just a small problem. Surely, the more people without power meant the sooner it would get fixed, right? Oh yeah, and it was a beautiful sunny day, so there wasn't any weather-related cause to the problem. As a team we chatted a bit about what could be the issue, but it was all just guessing. Someone said that perhaps a cable had been stolen, a common problem here. There was a phone cable stolen back in March or April and it cut off landline service to Block HH and Luc & Petunia's house. I'm not really sure what happened, but apparently the phone company just decided not to fix it. Also, there is a new high-speed train service that connects Johannesburg to Pretoria. The stations in Pretoria just opened in the beginning of August and in the past two weeks, there have been at least two incidents of overnight cable theft which have disabled train service for commuters! Oysh. Oupa, my teammate who has grown up in Sosh, reassured us that it would be fixed before the end of the day. He has experienced his fair share of outages, but it had always been resolved quickly. Luc made a comment that it was a good thing we weren't in the Congo, where he grew up, since sometimes it can take up to 6 months to fix a power outage! (Side note – I tried to apply reason and logic to this situation, thinking there's no way it could take so long to fix, but I soon realized that all my powers of reason had no effect on the actual reality of the situation. It could potentially never get fixed!)

So, the day continued and frustrations grew about the power. When you have the sense that it could come back on any minute, you start keeping track of the minutes as they go by without any change. We carried on and had our Tswana lesson that afternoon as usual. Fortunately, Mama Jane has a gas-powered stove in her garage so we could still make tea J Mama Jane invited me to stay and eat dinner with her family, but I decided to venture back to Block GG and see what my neighbors were up to.

I stopped in at my friend Thembi's house and my neighbors Sherz and Tsholo were already there! My main priority was figuring out a plan for dinner and while everyone was concerned about the power, no one else seemed quite as worried as I felt. The main topic at that point was the death of a South African Soapie star. (The rumor of his death, by the way, later proved to be untrue.) So, as they discussed the fate of the soap opera, I kept trying to interject with questions about dinner. By that point, we knew that it was only some sections of some blocks of Sosh that were without power and it didn't seem like there was any rhyme or reason to which blocks still had power and which didn't. The main shopping area of Sosh still had power, so my proposed solutions all involved taking a taxi to one of the fast-food places and buying dinner for everyone. My whole concern was how we would eat, and where we would go to get food, and how we needed to do it before dark. My neighbors, though, are far more resourceful than I am as most made some sort of fire in the front, side, or back of their house and cooked a nice meal. I forget that most of the adults in my neighborhood grew up in areas where electricity was not a standard and cooking on the fire outside was a feature of daily life. This reminded me of my ignorance and naiveté and lack of resourcefulness! So, as those conversations continued around me, only occasionally in English, I decided to sit back and relax and pray that the lights would come back on. When it gets dark, there are only a few things you can do, and sleep is one of them. At some point, Thembi remembered she had a gas stove in the garage. So she and Sherz got a ride to a gas station to buy some gas. But, when they got back they realized that the keys to the garage were in the pocket of Thembi's brother, who was on the train home from work. By this point it was 8 pm and there was no clear plan. I had eaten a slice of bread around 7pm and it seemed like that would be it for the night. I walked back home with Sherz and got ready for bed, as best as I could, in the dark. I was definitely thankful for the head-lamp that I got before I came to South Africa! I went to sleep that night hoping to wake up to lights on in the morning.

Thursday morning came and my clock was still dead. As was my lamp, refrigerator, and everything else that used electricity. I was really getting worried now about the meat in my freezer and the milk in my fridge. I have learned that refrigeration here is not such a big priority for people, as often frozen chicken sits out all day to defrost or cooked meals just don't get put in the fridge at the end of the day. But, I haven't quite adopted that attitude and I hated to think that I'd have to throw away money if my uncooked meats went bad. My frustration was growing, but so were my prayers. I still didn't know what the issue was, but I knew that ultimately there were people who did have the authority and ability to fix the lights. And I knew that ultimately God had authority to move their hearts to restore our power. At the same time, it was a good reminder about the people that live their whole lives without electricity. This is certainly a luxury, as far as the sheer numbers of people in the world who go without, but I take it for granted every day. I expect it and don't really think about how privileged I am to have it.

I noticed anxiety and anger growing in my heart so I decided to spend my quiet time that morning just asking God to help me find contentment even in this undesirable situation. I turned to Philippians 4:11-13: "…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want (whether with electricity or without ß my addition). I can do everything through him who gives me strength." Now, this was written by the apostle Paul, a man who faced troubles larger than a power outage. And yet, he could say with confidence that he had learned the secret to true contentment—to always rely on God for strength. That was the secret that I wanted to be true in my heart, on Thursday morning, but actually on every day. As I meditated on that passage, I just kept asking God to grant me that strength to be content in this very frustrating situation. I knew complaining and worrying wouldn't change anything, and I also realized that everyone would be complaining. I didn't want my heart to settle on a complaining spirit in this situation, and I knew that the only way that would be possible was through God's strength. Then I was reminded of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." Well, there you have it. The "secret" that so many Christians claim to be seeking is right there in black and white—God's will for YOU is to be joyful, keep praying, and give thanks in everything. So as much as I struggle with that on a daily basis, I wanted it to be true of my heart and attitude in this situation.

Having meditated on these verses helped me as I took a very cold bath that morning. I thanked God for clean water and for the usual ability to heat the water. I thanked God that I have a bathroom in which to bathe and for all the other things I usually take for granted or don't appreciate. And those verses also helped me too as I walked to Block HH that morning. As soon as I stepped out onto the main road, the brightness of the sun caught me off guard. I just paused for a moment to admire the glory of the day, blue skies and all. As I sat in my bed, brooding and worrying and wishing things would change already, the day seemed so dark and gloomy. But I realized that God's light was still shining. That bright sun and blue sky were a reminder that God has made even this day too, even the days that are frustrating and that He is still at work. As much as the present situation seems grim and hopeless, God's light is still shining. Often, for me, it is a matter of taking my eyes off my own problems and looking up to see the light.

I made my way to Block HH and the power was still not on. I learned of some of the rumors floating around – someone had stolen the cables; some of the municipality workers were on strike so they didn't have the normal manpower to fix it; they were using this as a strategy to hold out on their employers and somehow get the public on their side to join them in their wage demands. It really felt like we were being held hostage because we hadn't done anything to be part of this struggle. In addition to those other meditations, I gained a new appreciation for all the psalms and prayers in the Bible on behalf of the oppressed. This was a tiny, tiny taste of "oppression," but it really felt like we were being punished unjustly. We were being used in the labor dispute, and we were paying the price. That was the rumor anyway. Later on, there were rumors about the water being shut off too as more municipality workers joined in the strike and tried to get us on board with their cause.

This reminded me of stories I've heard from the struggle to end apartheid. There were people who would organize boycotts and protests against the government, but they didn't end there. They would threaten and harm those who chose not to participate in the boycotts and protests. So, I felt like this strong-arming tactic was re-appearing in this situation. Again, perhaps just a small taste of South African history, but it was interesting. (Side note: there seems to be a "strike season" in South Africa. Every year, around the same time, various industries—mining, service workers, bus drivers, etc.—strike for improved working conditions, wage increases, etc. Another interesting piece of local culture…)

We carried on with after-school tutoring on Thursday afternoon since it really doesn't require electricity. Thank God for all the things we still could do despite the power outage. During the day it wasn't so bad, but night was when we felt really powerless—literally and figuratively! I walked back to GG on Thursday afternoon, anticipating a nice hot meal cooked on Thembi's gas stove, since by then her brother had returned with the garage keys. I stopped at home first and saw Sherz & Stan, my next-door neighbors, making a small fire. What about Thembi's stove, I asked. It had a leak apparently and was not gonna be used, after all that! So, I donated my thawing meats to the dinner cause since I figured they'd have to be thrown away if I didn't use them that night. So, Stan cooked a nice meal for us on the fire – pap (like thick grits, a staple starch of most meals here; chicken; ground beef. I stayed near the fire with Stan and advised him on the chicken – he had never cooked skinless, boneless before since most people in the township buy and eat full-skin, full-boned chicken meat. It was actually quite fun, Stan and I started singing and I got the chance to learn more about his upbringing. He told me his family didn't have electricity where they lived until he was about 15, so he was very accustomed to cooking outside on the fire. Sherz also didn't have electricity growing up, but they cooked on a coal stove. My ignorance sometimes astounds me, especially as I learn more and more of how other people live. I guess it seems obvious to realize that not everyone has grown up the same way as you, but when you actually learn about real people and the lives they have actually lived, it's quite eye-opening! We enjoyed a tasty dinner that night, complete with three meats (chicken, beef, and some beef stew bones)! It was a feast :)

I went back to my room after eating and decided to read. I was just getting ready to start reading when, in one moment, I heard the hum of the fridge and my clock started blinking again. THE POWER CAME ON!!!!! I screamed!!! Hahaha Sherz heard me and didn't yet realize the lights were back on so thought something was wrong. I ran outside and called her and then I danced to celebrate. I was so excited and praising the Lord! It was amazing.

All in all, this was a good learning experience, though I hope to not have to go through that lesson again! And the moral of the story is: appreciate what you have because you never know when the lights will go out!

The Bang Bang Club

Yesterday I saw The Bang Bang Club.  I had heard only bits and pieces about the movie—I knew it was about a group of photojournalist friends, and they spent some time filming in South Africa.  Turns out it is based on a true story of 4 white South African photojournalists who worked together during the last years of Apartheid, documenting the violent uprisings that preceded the transition to a democratic government.  I definitely recommend the movie, especially to get a different perspective on the ending of Apartheid. 

I didn’t realize the history, but there were not only two sides in the Apartheid fight.  It wasn’t just blacks vs. whites, but ended up being much black vs. black fighting.  It was really eye-opening to me to see how latent frustrations among blacks were stoked by the pro-Apartheid forces to create intra-racial conflict.  I guess if they kept them from having one common enemy, they felt their resistance would be weakened.  I will admit that I struggled at times to focus on the story of the main characters and their photojournalist lives because I was so disturbed by some of the images they were capturing (and I was seeing) of the intense fighting between black South Africans in the townships.  Not only did my heart break to see the terrible and true recent history of this country, but my heart also broke for the way these journalists had to basically become desensitized in order to continue working.   I certainly agree that people need to see these images, and thus there need to be photographers to capture them.  But I can’t imagine how they must learn to cope as witnesses to so much suffering.  You can see the shift in the main character in the beginning, as the internal conflict plays out—care for these people I’m photographing or just move on to get the next shot?  This dissonance continued throughout the film.

Another thing that stuck in my mind is how so many people here in Soshanguve will ask me “Is South Africa nice?” or “Do you think Soshanguve is nice?” (People here like to use the adjective “nice” as a general catch-all affirmative term.)  And of course, they want me to say yes, and I do say yes because I do think that there is good in this place.  But it’s an interesting question, and this movie reminded me it’s much more loaded than just considering anywhere a “nice” place to live.  It’s different than calling Deerfield, IL “nice” because not even 20 years ago, these townships were not “nice.”  Most of the movie took place in various townships, mostly around Johannesburg.  And those townships honestly looked much the same as Soshanguve does today…except nearly every scene was filled with mobs, or burning tires, or dead bodies, or gunfire.  So for someone who has grown up here, especially the older generation, to be able to ask me, a naïve white American, if I find this place to be “nice” is quite remarkable.  The history is not that ancient—this movie took place while I was in junior high school!   There’s just so much more baggage than I even realize behind the peace and relative calm of this place now.  And frankly I think I forget about that a lot of the time.  So the movie was a good, if disturbing, reminder.    

One of the photojournalists ends up traveling to the Sudan to cover a story of a famine.  We see shots of people in a UN feeding station and then we see the character wandering off into the desert.  With his camera, he captures the scene of a starving girl, crouching on the sand, and a vulture just a few feet behind, seemingly waiting for the girl to die.  It’s a captivating image (link?) and, as his friends commend him later, it was a great shot.  In fact, the photographer won a Pulitzer Prize for it.  But the thing that haunted him after was how everyone wanted to know what happened to the girl.  Didn’t he intervene? Didn’t he help her?  Wasn’t it his responsibility, as a witness to the crisis, to step in and respond?  As he put it later in a radio interview, photojournalists capture these images that the world needs to see.  Often the images show some real evil.  And then, people want to shoot the messenger.  And I have had that feeling—in fact had that feeling a lot during the movie.   How can we diminish someone’s life and death to just “a great shot?”  How can they stand there and take pictures of these terrible things and then just walk away, expecting to get paid for documenting someone else’s misery?  But the truth is, the goal of the pictures is to prod us, the viewers, into asking those questions of ourselves.  If we are willing to ask why they didn’t do something shouldn’t we also be willing to ask why we don’t do something? If I see the picture, do I have as much responsibility to respond as the one who witnessed the act in person?  

But I am just like the photographers.  It was eerie watching this group of white guys just drive in and out of the townships, amidst the fighting and burning and chaos, and just go along with their lives.  And I sometimes feel like them.  I don’t see the pain just below the surface.  Like the photographers, I have the privilege of leaving the township whenever I feel like it.  The juxtaposition of scenes between township and the neighborhoods where the photographers lived wasn’t lost on me.  It was so easy to just drive a few kilometers away and forget about all the suffering you witnessed just an hour earlier.   At one point, the main character nearly explodes with this internal conflict as he is driven to despise all sides in the conflict.  His girlfriend calms him down by telling him “it’s okay,” which doesn’t really do it justice, though there was not much else she could have said. I don’t want to be insensitive.  I don’t want to find ways to rationalize or de-humanize the people I live among in order to feel less pain at their pain.  This is not just a movie for my neighbors here—this was their real life.  

Towards the end of the movie, we see long lines of black South Africans, waiting to vote in the first democratic election in 1994.  And we see people side by side who, just days and weeks before, had been running from or at each other, wielding guns and knives.  How does that happen?  Does that mean there is real peace and forgiveness?  It made me wonder if that is still the case today—do my neighbors, some of whom were perhaps involved in such fighting and riots just a few years ago, still harbor animosity and resentment toward each other?  How do those feelings just go away overnight because someone says the fighting is over?  It seems people here want to just move on and forget about it, but that won’t heal deep wounds.  I want to understand and I long to see real healing come.      

Perhaps for viewers of this movie who don’t live in a South African township, the experience will be different.  Maybe they will find the storyline of the Bang Bang Club and their camaraderie to be more compelling than the “background” story happening all around them.  But for me it was the other way around—the photojournalists were just a vehicle to show recent history in a new light. 

more thoughts on the "rainbow nation"

I came across this article recently and my impression is that while the author has some valuable observations about South Africa, he probably didn’t spend most of his time in any of those “shanty towns,” like Sosh, where my perspective has been shaped. I agree that it is miraculous that apartheid is legally ended and in many ways people of different races do interact on seemingly “normal” levels. But, at the same time, I wonder how deep those interactions really go. Most white families and white-owned businesses still employ a black person to cook/clean/garden. Many of those domestic workers are the same ones who worked in those homes before apartheid ended.  I visited the office of an accountant in Pretoria North several months ago and most of the women who worked there were Afrikaans. When I told them I lived and worked in Soshanguve, they looked at me as if I were an alien. They responded by marveling at how amazing it was that I would come all the way from America to live there while they had lived not 40 miles away and had never even visited. It got me to wondering if there really even was anything obvious that would bring them to Sosh, that would help them see beyond the stereotypes they held of a scary place inhabited by criminals and desperate people.

Another thing that has become clear from my four months of living in Sosh is the distinction that we often place on quality of life vs. value of life. “As with many squatter camps around Johannesburg, Zandspruit residents live in squalid conditions, sharing toilets and communal taps, with little or no electricity. Neighboring suburbs have some of Africa's most expensive real estate.”  This quote from this article reflects a common sight in South Africa. 

The terms "quality" and "value" are often used together when we think about a purchase we want to make, but when it comes to describing life often they are total opposites. We, whether in America or South Africa or other places I assume, have internalized this message that the outer quality of our lives implies the inner and eternal value of the same. I have realized that often the luxury that we desire is just the comfort and ease of convenience. We think the good life is having what we want, when we want it, without having to work hard to get it. I have had the odd and ironic experience of sitting with my neighbors, in their corrugated tin shack, watching an episode of MTV Cribs. The whole point of the show is to elicit the covetousness of our hearts towards the excesses of celebrity. But for those who have to walk outside to use the toilet, without a distinction between kitchen/living room/dining room/bedroom/home office, the allure of it all is obvious and natural. My instinctive disdain for that show and the lifestyle it promotes riles up naturally, but I have to catch myself when I realize the privilege that informs my attitudes juxtaposed with the realities of my neighbors’ lives. This situation even brought up that quality vs value of life internal debate when I tried to convince my friend Sherz that that was not the “good life.” But Emily, she asked, what is?? Following God! I told her, excited at the chance to answer such a question. But again, the realities of life can obscure that truth. When we cling to physical things of comfort, as I have been tempted to do here, we forget not only about eternal comfort but also about the God who provides our daily bread.

...and here is another eye-opening article about the state of the South African family

Reflections on Holy Week

…hey, better late than never, right?

I observed Holy Week this year by reading through each day’s Scriptures that corresponded to the last week of Jesus’ life on earth.  I’m not sure if I had ever done that before, but I found it to be very powerful this year. 

Palm Sunday:  Mark 11.1-11

Jesus comes riding into Jerusalem, triumphantly, on… a donkey.   He knows exactly what he’s entering into, and he knows that this scene begins the end of his time on Earth.  Lord, let us reflect your humility.  Let us not insist on our own privilege or position or power.  Let us live in light of the victorious king who came in on a donkey.  Let your light speak for itself through our lives.  “Rescue us! Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord!”  Let our praise be genuine, surely rooted even when our troubles appear more real than your presence.  Lord, let us reflect your mercy; that of a God who loves a fickle people, who was faithful to the ones that he knew would desert him.  Let us not work for the praises of people, but for the fruit which lasts forever.   

Holy Week Monday:  Mark 11.12-19

Rough day for Jesus—first the curse on the fig tree, then turning over tables in the temple.  What Jesus really wants to see from our lives is fruit – and not just the appearance of fruit.  Here we have a tree with leaves, seemingly a sign of produce.  But, it bears no figs.  And then Jesus goes to the temple and sees pilgrims being exploited and priests acting authoritatively while God’s house is disrespected.  Jesus can see past our appearances to our heart.  He warns against being white-washed tombs and in this case against being a fruitless tree.  He is the one who grows fruit in our hearts, but we must submit to his pruning and cultivation.

The other thing is the irony of our plans vs. God’s—the priests started to plot Jesus’ destruction after the table-turning but Jesus already knows it is coming.  Their fear of him and his influence over the crowds, their fear of losing power and influence for their own sake, push them to want to destroy him.  Do I fully allow Jesus to influence all my life or do I still try to hold on to some of my own influence and control?  Lord, I want to give you free reign over my life.

Holy Week Tuesday:  Mark 11.20-13.37

Jesus reminds his disciples to trust God, and pray without doubting.   I’d say most of my prayers are not doubtful, but I think I have a hard time praying for REALLY big and miraculous things, believing they will happen.  My instinctive cynicism creeps in when I read “Whatever you pray for or ask from God, believe that you’ll receive it and you will.”  That statement doesn’t seem confusing or difficult to understand, but my faith in this regard is unfortunately limited to what I can see.  But, it’s a good thing that the One who answers prayers sees beyond my sight. 

The rest of the day is filled with priests and teachers trying to stump Jesus with various questions about the law and His interpretation of them.  Of course, they don’t succeed. 

Holy Week Wednesday: Mark 14.1-11

Wherever the good news is told, this story of the woman anointing Jesus with her perfume will be told.  I must be careful to not just take a short-sighted practical view, like the dinner guests in the story.  She lavishly “wasted” her resource, all to adore Christ.  Lord, help me to be so lavish, to adore you so freely and fully, without being discouraged at what others might think.  Allow me to use my resources to worship you, beyond mere practicality.  Help me to see the long-view and seek your Kingdom first.  Transform my perspective to be more like Yours. 

Maundy Thursday: Mark 14.12-72

Jesus and his disciples celebrate the Passover feast, remembering God’s historical deliverance, but Jesus also knows it is about to have new meaning.  Communion is instituted at this meal while Jesus knew he was eating with his betrayer.  He also knew all his disciples, his closest friends, would desert him in his time of most need and he felt the angst and distress of the task that lay before him.  But he was fully surrendered to God’s will—it is for this reason He has come.  Armed guards lead him to the priests—the irony of their attempts at “judgment”; no witnesses against Him because all his claims are true.  He offers no self-defense.  He is who He says He is!  But in efforts of their own self-justification, the leaders must destroy Him since he reveals their hypocrisy.  Lord, help me to be so surrendered to your will.  I don’t generally know what’s coming next but even in this situation, in the worst of events when Jesus knew exactly what lay before him, he surrendered.  Please help me to rely on You as my defense—not defending my rightness, but Your authority, as it brings repentance, forgiveness, mercy, justice, power, love, and Jesus’ righteousness. 

Good Friday: Mark 15.1-47

The curtain was torn in the moment of Jesus’ death.  To those still confused, not seeing the deeper meaning, this might seem terrible.  And even in Jesus’ pain, this tearing which was accomplished was beautiful!  Yes, it disturbed temple tradition but that’s because it meant a new way forward—open access to God for everyone.  Jesus’ blood replaced the earthly veil.  Lord help me remember it is this blood-veil which purifies me to enter your presence—not my own self.  Now God is free to abide with us beyond the earthly veil!  Jesus experienced great pain, feelings of neglect, even in this moment of obedience and glory.  Following God often brings suffering; pain is not a sign of God’s absence.  He did this for me—and everyone!  Moments of great suffering can be moments of great victory. 

Holy Week Saturday

A sense of stillness, silence, wondering as our Lord lay DEAD in the tomb.  The immortal, eternal one, gone for a moment.  I think about all those who followed and loved Jesus while he was on Earth and what they must have been going through between Friday and Sunday.  “Was it all a lie?  I thought he was the Messiah, but now he is dead?”  Even with the Old Testament scriptures to testify that this had to happen, it must have been so painful and confusing to live through.  But, he was the perfect one, dead in our place, to conquer all that could kill us. 

Easter Sunday: Mark 16.1-8

Lord, you have risen!  Hallelujah!  Death cannot hold you.  And you say that same resurrection power is at work in us (Ephesians 1.19-20)—so death cannot hold us!  You are victorious over death and you carry us with you into new life! 

The resurrection is the Best News!  All the “deaths” in our lives, literal and figurative, have been overcome.  They are not the final word.  Jesus has the power to conquer all death, everything that says “no” and causes destruction.  Jesus brings LIFE, more powerful than death.  He works that power within us. 

And what does it mean on an everyday level for the poor?  For one, while it does not promise a specific moment when things will get better or needs will be met, it does guarantee that the One who has All the power to bring new life is with us, loves us, cares about our situation, and acts on our behalf.  He is the authority above all authorities.  He is the promise that, despite appearances, we are not forgotten.  I don’t know why some situations don’t change and some continue to suffer and some needs go seemingly unmet.  But I know that God is TRUE, He is alive, He is above all and He is with us.  His presence strengthens us. 

It is inconsequential, His compassion, if we don’t know or care who He is.  But when the eyes of our heat are opened, we see that as the Richest of Riches anyone could have.  We see that it means our reality now is impacted, in the hands of a Good God.  If we trust our circumstances, it is no wonder we doubt.  But on a Good Friday or Saturday, we must hold onto His promise.  And when Easter comes, we have not only His promises but Him SELF alive and victorious over death.  If God gave us His son, will he not also give us everything with Him?  He doesn’t say when, but he desires our hearts, our lives, not just our wanting and needs.  He is Risen!  That changes everything!  (1 Corinthians 15)

And that reality of the Risen Jesus is ours every day, not just during Holy Week.  Amen!

News from South Africa

The Coming "Egyptian Moment" in South Africa

"As a South African, I wonder how South Africa's leadership might respond if it were to reach a similar tipping point with its disenfranchised youth -- where conservative estimates tell us that more than half of South Africans under the age of 25 are unemployed. I do believe it would be foolish for South African leaders to think that these unemployed and disconnected youth may not one day ignite a revolution...Because like Egypt, Tunisia, Libya and most of their neighboring countries that are weathering the revolutions of today, South Africa also has a massive army of disenchanted youth. South Africa is a young country considering that more than half of its population is under the age of 25, and with more than half of them unemployed -- the numbers are equivalent in size to the entire population of Zambia. And the chilling truth is that unemployment doesn't end at the age of 25. Based on current trends, it will go on to become a way of life, not only for their generation but also for following generations."

Nelson Mandela Launches Clothing Line to Help Promote South Africa 

"Former South African president and Nobel Peace Prize winner Nelson Mandela is the last person you’d expect to be dabbling in fashion, but then again, he’s never been known for sticking to convention. Named after his inmate number at Robben Island Prison, 46664 Apparel is a new clothing venture focused on raising funds for the Nelson Mandela Foundation."


South Africa's test of nerves begins now--Update from the Cricket World Cup!
"The South Africans have the mettle but can they endure the pressure that awaits them in the knockout stages of this tournament? History shows that this team has a tendency to crumble in high-intensity situations."


More than 15,000 march for education in S. Africa
"South Africa, a country with one of the greatest disparities of wealth, still struggles to close the gap apartheid created between white and black schools. Only a third of third-graders in South Africa meet the minimum literacy and numeracy standards, according to national test results. Last year, a third of those taking final-year exams failed."


Why South Africa is so violent (not trying to make you nervous, Mom, just found this interesting!)
"Violent crime is deeply ingrained in the social fabric of the country and cannot simply be solved through the criminal justice system. This is according to a report on the violent nature of crime in South Africa which was made public in November."


South Africa Faces Growing H.I.V. Crisis
 "South Africa, already home to 5.7 million H.I.V.-positive people, more than any other nation, can expect an additional five million to become infected during the next two decades even if the nation more than doubles its already considerable financing for treatment and prevention and gives prevention a higher priority, according to a report presented to the country’s leading advisory body on AIDS policy." 

what it's like

On Sunday I went with petunia to a child’s birthday party after church.  Petunia’s neighbor Ellen had invited her, so petunia offered me the chance to come along.  It didn’t matter that I didn’t know the birthday boy.  We pull up to the party and, even though the music is still blaring, it’s almost as if everything freezes.  I know it’s because a white person (me) just got out of the car because everyone is staring at me, especially the little kids.  I try not to mind too much, and hug Ellen as she offers me a seat.  Then comes time for birthday cake.  At this party, the purpose of the cake was just as much to serve as a centerpiece for pictures as it was for eating.  I was hanging back while the kids gathered around but suddenly Ellen, petunia’s neighbor, pulls me in and says “Emily, they want you in the picture!”  talk about jumping in the game without knowing the rules!  I had arrived not 10 minutes earlier and I hadn’t even met the two hostesses of the party.  Yet, they wanted me in the picture with them, the cake, and the birthday kids.  So I obliged.  When a random guy came up and said he wanted a picture with me, that’s where I drew the line.  After this, I asked petunia “so, am I like a party clown? Some kind of entertainment?”  she said “no, it’s just an honor to them for you to be at their party.”  Imagine that, all because of the color of my skin.  About an hour later, before we left the party, I made sure to actually introduce myself to these ladies, so that when they got the pictures and showed their friends, I wouldn’t just be a nameless “lekoa.”  

  

Now, I realize of course, that my presence is not automatically seen as an honor to everyone.  Race is a topic here loaded with generations of painful baggage.  So part of my experience has been similar to that in Oakland or New Orleans, where I am aware of my difference because everyone else points it out.  But it’s also very different just because of the racial history of this place.  This place is sprawling, with about 1 million people living within Soshanguve township. Still not sure of the physical size of the place, but definitely smaller in area than New Orleans.  And all of the people are black African. This is just not a place that you would be passing through to get somewhere else, so to see a white person not only walking around but living in a township is quite radical.  As much as I’d like to assimilate and be “normal” that may never be possible because of the context I’m entering into.  In fact, last week when I went into town, I was taken aback that people weren’t looking at me funny in the mall.  Like, it didn’t surprise me to see other white people as much as it surprised me that I was suddenly right in the mix again. 

Let me try to describe this place in a way you can picture…. In many ways, the neighborhoods of Sosh look and feel like a typical inner-city…..but we’re located 30 miles outside of the nearest city.  The main roads, either two lanes or four, are paved, but the side residential roads are dirt.  Lots of people walk, though there are not always sidewalks.  Most of the women walking have a child wrapped by a towel on their backs.  (Side note: I am amazed by this….it seems no matter the size of the woman or the child the towel still fits & wraps around perfectly! Must be a secret trick I have yet to learn)  Occasionally the women are carrying things on their heads—piles of sticks, a shopping bag of groceries, etc. Another secret talent!  Lots of people also take mini-bus taxis, which operate on a hand-sign system to indicate what direction you are going in.  the taxi ride may take 5 minutes or 45 minutes, depending on how full it is, how many other passengers are picked up, if the taxi needs gas, if the driver feels like driving fast or slow, etc.  Occasionally I have seen goats sharing the road with people.  Today there was a herd of cows crossing.   most people live in brick & cement houses of varying shape & size.  There are still plenty of tin shacks, but the government is doing its darndest to build four-room brick houses to replace the remaining sheds.  I heard someone say that that building process is moving particularly speedy right now because elections are coming up!  A lot of those tin shacks have really nice wrought-iron gates in front of them.  One of my challenges is not to judge how people spend their money.  There are several shopping centers, gas stations, and plenty of informal business along the roads.  It seems like each shopping center has at least 5 furniture stores—this I can’t quite understand.  This is one of the paradoxes of South Africa—it is certainly seen as a modern, developed country by the rest of the world, but the disparirty between rich and poor is growing each day.  There are people in Sosh without electricity and running water, so you can imagine what it’s like in the really rural areas.    Oh yeah, KFC is super popular here, though the only McDonald’s I’ve seen are in Pretoria.   

I have been told, and I’ve seen, that people here operate on a system of “abundant time.”  Many times I have heard “In south Africa, there is no rush.”  If someone says they will do something for you or pick you up, that could mean anytime between right now and 5 hours from now.  Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe next month.  The mindset is that we have all the time in the world, so eventually it will happen.  This is a particular challenge for me, especially remembering not to expect things to happen right away, even when the person says they will do it “now.”  Perhaps this is one of the reasons God had me living in New Orleans, before South Africa??  J  

ready or not!

today is the day...i board a plane for london, and in three days i board a plane for south africa!  it's crazy to think about, especially knowing how long i've been wanting to get back there.  i can't believe how quickly the time has flown by.  i have mixed emotions because as excited as i am about this next step, i'm equally sad about leaving behind all my dear friends and family. but God has shown Himself faithful, so i have no doubt He will continue to do so!

one of the questions i've heard lately is "are you ready?"  and.....hhhmmm.....i don't know!  i mean, at this point, plans are in motion, things are happening, so i guess that means i'm "ready" right?  pondering this question and all its implications reminds me of this quote i read recently in A Chance To Die , the biography of Amy Carmichael, missionary in India in the late 19th century.     

“Looking back after fifty years Amy declared that she was ‘no more fit to be a Keswick missionary than a Skye terrier puppy.’ That estimate never caused her to question the validity of the call—or, we may assume, the judgment of the One who issued it.”  

i feel like that often—i certainly don’t try to fool myself with thinking that i am actually qualified for the calling of God.  yes, i can see how He has made me for certain tasks and environments, perhaps, and i do not doubt that He will continue to equip me for that which he calls me, but i like the image Amy conjures up here.  we don’t go because we are qualified—we go because we are called.  what’s more, our feeling of being qualified may not ever catch up with all that God has done in and through us.  

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next time you hear from me, Lord willing, i'll be checking in from the other side of the atlantic!