2018: Malawi Musings #7

Dear one,

My hope had been to communicate with you prior to this moment—in truth, I had written much of what now follows as I awaited my flight from Dulles to Indy, but alas I did not complete what I had begun. This noted, I have returned greatly energized and decidedly hopeful.

At any rate, for the moment I would share with you feedback from last week’s pastoral retreat. In another day or two, I hope to reflect more fully with you my evaluation of “Malawi 2018”—and most especially the promise offered by my twelve days in Malawi. 

On Tuesday Gracious Madimbo, the Missions Director for Nkhoma Synod, and I gave good thought to my returning to Malawi in July/August of 2019. From that meeting, he provided me these pastoral responses from those who attended the retreat: 

“It has been a good life changing training. My life has been taken higher. It has encouraged me to have a new way of doing missionary work. Through the reading of The Sent OneI found it very inspiring and teaching. The book is really a blessing to me.”

“[The retreat] offers an opportunity for ministers to retreat from pastoral work and refresh, network, and share notes and faith with each other. [It] was very well organized and the venue was good for retreat. I wish we could have more time to pray together … It would be good to hold this retreat twice a year. It would also be good to follow up how the retreat is impacting participants.”

“The resource person has had a very wonderful revelation to come up with comprehensive approach towards presentation of Gospel of John. My observation is that through this retreat, Gospel of John is relevant to current world challenges. The retreat is likely to bring about positive results, and through prayers our partners in USA must consider mobilizing resources to continue with the project.”

“Every participant was aroused to learn more and more. It was like a new material, which has just been discovered for the first time! Mr. Director, thank you for inviting me to this wonderful mission seminar retreat. May the good Lord Jesus Christ bless your work in the Mission Department.”

“[Because of the retreat,] preaching will be enriched, with deep rich material—solid food indeed!”

I have returned believing that twenty-one pastors have been meaningfully encouraged, even as I myself have been.

I am truly grateful for your share in the meaning of these days.

Hopefully,

            Stan

2018: Malawi Musings #6

Welcome to Malawi …

Although I had set the alarm for 7am, at 6:45am I heard an insistent knock upon my door:

            “Stan, there’s been a change in your program.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yes. The youth are meeting this morning at 8:30. When were you meeting—10 or 10:30?”           

            “10:30, I thought. From 10:30 to 12noon. And the funeral?”

            “Ah, yes. Those arrangements have been changed. The service will be tomorrow. So today you lead the youth, and then you’ll go out to lunch. And tonight we’ll have dinner as planned. Gary will pick you up at 8:00.”

            “Okay … at 8:00. Who’s Gary?”

            “From the church. You have time to shower and have breakfast—it’ll be ready for you. Like always.”

From a US perspective, in a land that does not experience dramatic seasonal changes, Malawians are regularly subjected to change: life here requires flexibility, but then flexibility becomes a lifestyle, whereby patterns and behaviors encourage, if not dictate flexibility. One’s program might change, if for no other reason than that the electricity was switched off—it happens at some time most every day for approximately six hours.

Elsewhere: Yesterday I received the following text from one of the pastors (abusas), who attended the pastoral retreat at Mutheto Lodge. The following are Paul Mawaya’s reflections:

            “Stan, I write to inform you that I did arrive home last night after 4 hours of driving.

            I must state that the Ministers in-service Training was renewing.  It renewed our   exegetical and hermeneutical practice that has rusted over the years of service. It was also    renewing because it provided an opportunity for ministers to rest from their strenuous      pastoral tasks in the various congregations. It created an opportunity to worship God and        pray together as one body in Christ Jesus. The training offered more than what one would expect. I have already shared the verbal report to the Director of Missions, Evangelism and Training for CCAP Blantyre Synod ... He is equally excited to mobilize the first cohort of 25 ministers and will together work out logistical requirements for your guidance. So I praise God for your ministry that has left us recharged and energized to serve His flock with renewed mind and commitment.”

Although I have not had the opportunity to review the retreat evaluation forms, my sense is that Paul has articulated the overwhelming consensus: abusas were greatly energized and refreshed by their four-day experience. For this I am thankful.

Faithfully,

            Stan

Ps. The youth didn’t meet where they do regularly: a wedding was underway. 

2018: Malawi Musings #5

“With a little (or a lot) of help from my friends …”

I would think that I might learn: with each of these little forays to Africa, you’d think that I might know what I’m doing and what I might expect, but evidently not so:

Last year, for instance, when I visited Malawi, you might recall that I almost immediately entered into the world of Malawian “wakes” and funeral services. During the first of the funerals, I felt as though I had committed a horrific cultural fax pas: when a collection was taken for the grieving family, I had not given an appropriate sum. In reality, my “faux pas” was not as horrific as I had assumed. Throughout the second of the services, mine was not so much a faux pas as a humbling; I provided the major, pastoral eulogy for a man I did not know among a people whose ways are not mine. Nonetheless, God’s love was evident for us all.

This year’s return—not that this adventure is at an end—has presented me with something altogether different: feelings and thoughts that have cast a shadow over my heart and mind. Again, these thoughts and feelings are not particularly new, but how they have arisen and with what intensity have greatly surprised me. Only today, at the conclusion of our pastors’ retreat—which in truth ended well, and which I’ll share with you more fully in a day or two—did I feel “comfortable,” but only with caution do I make such a statement. Nonetheless, I was most amused, when a pastor (i.e. an abusa) approached me with these words:   

            “Next year, when you return … will you teach us … the Book of Revelation?” 

            I smiled and then laughed. He returned my amusement. 

            “Yes,” I said, “I’ll give serious thought to the Book of Revelation—even though to do sowill stretch me well beyond my comfort zone.” I then proceeded to tell him that I had received the same request in July from a Ugandan pastor.  

And that is my growing realization: upon this trip I am being stretched beyond my comfort zone, not by Malawians or by long-distance flights, but by our gracious Creator, who has not finished reshaping and refashioning me. The marvel is that He can express His loving character through one like me, who is still under reconstruction. 

Hopefully,

            Stan

Ps. At nearly sixty-nine, how long should reconstruction take? 

2018: Malawi Musings #4

“God is loving and God is loving all the time”: 

            Nearly verbatim, these are the words this morning’s preacher shared in his conclusion. Speaking to a congregation of nearly 900, he asked the congregation to momentary alter their common but nonetheless true and meaningful expression: “God is good and God is good all the time”, to remember that “God is loving,” irrespective their expectations and/or circumstances. Undoubtedly the preacher felt led to share this slightly amended affirmation, because he needed to hear and receive that same message. As the preacher, I too needed to hear and receive the message I bore: I too needed to share in that fundamental affirmation of the Christian faith.

Reflecting that affirmation, I am grateful for the several of you, who responded to my last blog: I am doing well and am thankful for your encouragement.  

            Indicative of these, I had the privilege Friday evening of visiting with a woman and her family in a small hospital. The setting was bright and simple, but with little of our American, medical technology in evidence. Our encounter was heartfelt: she wanted to go home.

            Some time later, I was told that, after waiting in long lines, admission to a hospital does not guarantee immediate, medical attention. Thus only the very ill go to hospital, and therefore any preventive medical care is far from the norm; so too, those who wait might be seriously beyond needed care. 

            Also indicative of your kind expressions, last night’s study in John’s Gospel went well. Once those present had opportunity to gather in small groups: to engage in dialogue with one another and with the Scriptural text, their reserve melted—and this was particularly true among the younger women. I was greatly heartened by their enthusiasm. Equally, I was heartened by the presence of the General Secretary of the denomination’s General Assembly. He came to the study expressly to arrange a time, in order that he and I might discuss the possibility of a “spiritual retreat” for the synods’ leadership. We will meet this afternoon.

            Tomorrow our in-service/ retreat with and for 23 pastors will begin. Meeting with these pastors is the primary purpose of my visit, and I greatly look forward to sharing with them. I have high expectations for our moments together; however, I need to heed the preacher’s words: “God is loving and God is loving all the time,” regardless my expectations.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Ps. Our study this evening ended with great energy and excitement.

2018: Malawi Musings #3

Dear one,

            I’m seated again in the breezeway the Moya’s home: the temperature must be in the 80s; the sky, with some clouds, is milky blue; the palm trees swaying, the flowering jacarandas vibrant; the green hedges trim, among which clucking hens and chicks peck; and always the chirping of birds—all that I see and hear seems idyllic, and yet I know that, only a few minute’s drive from here, the world of Lilongwe and Malawi differs greatly from what my senses tell.

            After 29 hours of wakeful travel (thankfully I slept 2 hours on the flight from Addis to Lilongwe), I/we landed at Kumuzu International Airport—our Ethiopian Airlines 727 the only airplane on the tarmac. Upon going through customs, and upon finding that all three checked bags had made the journey, I concluded: “I’m not too much worse for the wear.” This noted, the flight from Dulles to Addis Ababa (13.5 hours) was one of the most wearisome (and worrisome) flights I’ve experienced. Not that the flight itself was turbulent—no, only briefly over the Red Sea did we encounter a few bumps—but for some reason, somehow I felt “turbulent” throughout much of the flight. At moments I began to wonder darkly: “Stan, do you really know what you’re doing? You’re 32,000 feet over the Mediterranean, what if … if your kidney stones …?” 

            Some years ago I was captured by Paul’s phrase: “from faith unto faith.” As he began to explicate his understanding of the Gospel (it took him 11 chapters to do so), Paul wrote: “For the righteousness of God has been revealed in [the Gospel] from faith unto faith”. As I pondered then and as I reflect now, I believe that that phrase not only suggests that faith begets faith, but that faith supports or carries faith. Counter our strong (blinding?), Western individualism, the Christian Faith and Gospel have also and always been communal—the faith of a community embodying the Love of Christ.

            As consider my flight here, and my present in Kaning’a (an area in Lilongwe), I know that I am here, not because my faith is strong—at moments it is horribly weak—but because many others, like you, believe and pray: from your faith unto my faith; your faith buoys mine. Counter our cultural individualism, I am thankful that we are bound together.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Ps. It’s now raining, and in this capitol city, we’ve been without the internet all day.

2018: Malawi Musings #2

Dear one,

             Through my most recent reflections with you, I noted the possible impact or reach my upcoming venture to Malawi might have: 175,000 lives. Hopefully in my reflections you heard the possible, not the probable impact I might have, with this underlying assumption: the further the reach the less powerful the impact. This is not to negate the importance of reaching beyond immediate circles, or the influence one person might have upon a generation or even a culture; but it is that simple affirmation, as evident in Jesus’ relationships, that His impact upon Peter, James, and John was probably great than His impact upon Thaddeus.

            As I gave further reflection to the possibility of my touching 175,000 lives, I found my thinking “diverging”: on the one hand, I find it difficult to comprehend my influencing 175,000 individuals. Oh, I know the possibility exists, but that possibility I little can grasp. On the other hand, I find the image of a small cobble in a great roadway very helpful: I am simply one, small portion of something far great than I can fathom or comprehend. And yet, even this image is incomplete: it is static, and assumes that the cobble has already been securely placed along side other such stones. The reality is that I am still in process—perhaps a “living” cobble, not unlike the description of 1Peter 2:5: [Like] living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house”. 

            Although the image of a “living” cobble is of comfort to me, it also suggests that who I am, what I might still become, and how I might yet respond have not been realized. From last year, you might recall that I delivered a funeral sermon at a Malawian service attended by 800 individuals—an experience I in no way anticipated. So what will the next two weeks afford? I do not really know, in spite of our plans—but for this I ask you to pray: I might meet with the General Secretary of the Central Church of Africa: Presbyterian (CCAP). In light of his desire for a “spiritual retreat” for the leadership of the five, denominational synods, we have exchanged emails. He and I might discuss the possibility of such a retreat: reconcilation among church leaders is needed. I might be able to help; I might not.

            As I undertake a fifth venture to Malawi, I do so wondering: What will I experience upon this occasion (and hopefully not more kidney stones)? 

Faithfully,

            Stan

Malawi/ Romania/ Uganda

Dear ones,

I thought it appropriate to share with you as I have in days past, but to do so using a slightly different thought-form. That is, in the past, and even the very recent past, I have shared with you “Uganda Days,” “Romanian Road,” and “Malawi Ramblings” … and in truth, they all might have been ramblings.

But whatever the form and style of my writings, what now appears to be slightly different or even new is that I believe that Malawi, Romania, and Uganda are to become a consistent, focusing experience in our lives. I believe that our Shepherd to Shepherds efforts (and I include you in the pronoun “our”) means my encouraging pastors within these three countries by means of retreats and/or teaching moments. Thus, if given the health and continued opportunity, for next 5-7 years Mary and I believe that I am to visit Malawi in the fall, Romania in late-winter, and Uganda in late-spring. These are to be the next “chapter” of our lives.

In this regard I am motivated by two thoughts: First, that the pastors in these settings are often “the forgotten voice.” Not unlike the American experience of the late-eighteenth to mid-nineteenth centuries, if one wanted to address prevailing social needs, the pastor of a village or town, often the most educated and well-connected person, was “the voice” who  called forth timely and appropriate solutions. Because this “voice” often related to a body of believers, who knew the love of Christ, they then rightly heard: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:40).

Second, I am convinced that if these “forgotten voices” are well cared for and encouraged; if they have opportunity to meaningfully engage in the Scriptures, in moments of prayer and singing, and in free conversation with one another (i.e. our American “networking)”, then they will in turn be much better able to care for their sheep, who will then better care for the lambs about them. Stated otherwise, pastors care well for their flocks, when they are well cared for. As the Risen Lord cared for Peter, so too He encouraged him: “Feed my sheep” (John 21:17).

I do hope and pray that you will continue to support our Shepherd to Shepherds ministry, even as I return to Malawi October 10-24, during which time I will lead another pastors’ retreat. I will share with you this latest endeavor as “Malawi Musings.”

Faithfully,

            Stan  

Uganda Days #7

Perhaps it’s appropriate that this blog is “number 7,” since “7” is the perfect or complete number. This noted, and although our recent venture to Uganda is “complete,” I am fully convinced that it is not over; rather I do believe that it has just begun.  As I indicated in my last two blogs, I believe that the door for a return visit to Uganda and the Otino Waa Orphanage is wide open.

Following our two-day retreat on July 30-31, we met with the lead-pastor, who indicated that he’d like to encourage another pastoral retreat, focusing more fully upon John’s Gospel.  To his encouragement I volunteered:

             “I’ve completed a similar study of the first half of Mark’s Gospel, and hope soon to complete the second half, followed by a resource centered upon the epistles of Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians.”

            “Yes, that’d be fine.  You could teach John and then Mark, and after you’ve taught Mark,               I’d like you to teach Acts.”  

            “Ah,” I said, smiling, “yes, perhaps I could teach Acts—to write and publish a resource  for Acts would stretch me, but that might be possible.”

            “And then,” he said, “you could teach the Book of Revelation.”

            I laughed.

            “That would definitely stretch me!”  I said.  “Perhaps I could work with the first six         chapters of Revelation, but thereafter … I don’t know.”

            He smiled.

            “By the way,” I said, “there is much you don’t know about me, and much I don’t know   about you. I'm very Presbyterian, you know, and yours is a Pentecostal church.”

            Once again he smiled.  “Yes,” he said, “but if you begin with a solid foundation, you can   then be radical.”

            My laughter was free: his understanding is wonderful, which in great measure explains how it is that he has encouraged the planting of twenty-seven churches, who now need their pastors to receive further training, education, and encouragement—and thus his informal invitation for me to return.

Of course, I know that there is “many a slip between cup and lip,” but I do believe that Uganda will now figure in my future, even as I believe that Malawi and Romania are integral to that future.  For the next five-to-seven years, if our Lord grants me the grace of health and opportunity, I can envision ministry among pastors in Malawi (mid-fall), in Romania (late-winter), and Uganda (late-spring).  But always: grace.

I pray that I will be able to share more “Uganda Days” with you.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Ps.  Please pray regarding a return to Malawi, September 26 – October 11.     

Uganda Days #6

“Fantastic” is the word that flashed through my mind.  As we sat 15-20 feet from two different, female lions, one with her cub, I was fully appreciative of John Eldredge's thought: the world in which we live is truly a fantasy, if we have the eyes of children rather than those jaded by our sophistication.

The one lion was napping in a tree, the other lion was resting with her cub: both viewed us with apparent nonchalance, and both were in their natural habit, not far from herds of buck, water buffalo, elephants, and giraffe … which further increased my sense of fantasy.  Within an 8hour time frame, we saw baboons, monkeys, warthogs, crocodiles, herons, cranes, hypos, as well as the afore-mentioned animals—on this occasion I was really taken with giraffes—all of which bespoke not only of fantasy, but of our Creator, who is the Artist-Engineer beyond my telling.

Oh, I know that we have zoos and game parks, but to gaze upon miles of African savannah and see herds of these animals—we counted 54 giraffes upon our first sighting of them, only 30-40 feet from us, even as they looked quizzically upon us—left an impression upon me that I would not soon remove.

At any rate, our last two days or so—we were 46hours in our setting to leave Uganda and our arrival in Indianapolis—were very special, bringing to conclusion meaningful days of ministry: our entrée to Uganda and the Otino Waa Orphanage remains, with the very real prospect that we might return in 2019 to care for the children of Otino Waa, and to encourage pastors living in and near Lira.

Thank you for sharing these moments with me, and with my thanksgiving, please know that I do hope to return to Malawi in late-September, as well as to Romania late-winter 2019. These three settings: Malawi, Romania, and Uganda are the doors, which have been opened to me.  For however long they remain open, I desire to pass through them, knowing that I need many others to make my little ventures possible. 

Whatever role I might perform, I am utterly convinced: pastors in impoverished settings need resources and encouragement, in order for them to encourage the thousands they touch.

Faithfully,

            Stan

Uganda Days #5

            “Very positive” was the overall consensus for the pastors’ conference, or as our host pastor commented: “We can attract ‘quantity’: we need ‘quality.’”  Whether or not our pastors’ conference of Monday and Tuesday was “quality,” I will leave for others to determine; but that we had “quantity” is accurate. Prior to the conference, we had indicated that we preferred a group size of twenty-five to fifty; the reality was a group of ninety-two.  This group size did not allow me the personal interaction I so enjoy when teaching; nonetheless the ninety-two were able to interact relationally and personally, and they responded well to the challenge of thinking and questioning more deeply.

            Using The Sent One, we were able to focus upon five incidents: the wedding at Cana (John 2:1-12), Jesus’ “cleansing” the Temple (John 2:13-22), the feeding of thousands (John 6:1-15), His walking on water (John 6:16-21), and Martha’s profound declarations (John 11:17-27).  Given the group size and the cultural difference between this American and the Ugandans seated about eleven tables, from 9am – 4:30pm we engaged, probed, and wrestled with the text of John … including a moment, when this a-rhythmic American began to dance a little.  (When in Africa, one will begin to do as Africans.)

            Yet to be determined, but clearly we will have follow-up discussions regarding the possibility of further pastoral retreats. From my perspective, the synergy between present pastoral need and the gifts we bear is great.  Although informal, the invitation to return is without doubt – and to my great delight, the conference’s lead pastor would like to learn Greek.

            Within this blog space, I have centered upon those moments of my own engagements, but to do so gives a skewed picture; for we have been a team of ten, the nine have been fully engaged in their relating to the children of the orphanage, as well as the house mothers, teachers, and staff.  One of us has spent a number of hours counseling, instructing the teen girls vis-à-vis sex and their sexuality, and appropriate responses to in appropriate behaviors.  Another has effectively used music with the children, but also sang and spoke before a live radio audience of one million.  Still another has spent many hours organizing and leading volleyball games, face painting, chalk drawing, and playing duck-duck-goose; and yesterday three of our number joined Dr. Hurry at a local hospital (the three were appalled by the conditions they saw), where they observed surgery.

            Tomorrow we travel to Chobe, known for its hypos.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Uganda Days #4

            For this intuitive introvert, the past two days of been full: energies have been greatly expended (and by the end of the day, greatly depleted); and yet, not seeking to be either paradoxical or contradictory, I know that I have been filled.  

            Sunday worship provided very positive, memorable moments, not the least of which was our still remaining engaged after three-and-one-half hours.  Admittedly, some of that engagement was our sharing in a Pentecostal worship service (although some might question: How Pentecostal can they be, if they allow a Presbyterian like me to preach?); but much of that engagement reflected its African/ Ugandan shaping.  At 8am we arrived at the church, stepped into the sanctuary, and, when once at our seats, sought to sing with those already gathered; but during the next hour, we also began to observe the partially filled sanctuary swell to near-capacity: approximately one thousand.  

            At the time we did not realize: Sunday, July 29, at Ilira Community Church was “Youth Sunday.”  Thus, perhaps more than usual, the service might have had greater energies vis-a-vis songs and dancing, and the up-front presence of the children. Nonetheless, in my view the service felt very African: the rhythms, the enjoyments, and the smiles, in combination with a leisurely cadence (i.e. Ugandans will quip: “Americans have watches; Africans have time”) bespoke a common message: in the presence of our Living God, we desire and appreciate community with one another.

            At 9:45am, I knew that our service would be at least two-and-one-half hours: I had not yet preached (which required the addition of translation); the offering had not yet been received; and our pastor had not yet offered an altar call.  As I preached, I was struck by the great number of young people (life expectancy in Uganda is 59); during the offering, the harvested, first fruits of their crops were received and then auctioned, the monies then given to the church; and the altar call (and I seek neither to minimize nor homogenize its significance), functioned as a time of confession, or even as a confessional.  

            In sum: just as in the US, a Pentecostal and Presbyterian service will be clearly American, so too here: denominational differences will still reflect the pervasive culture.  I know this is not rocket science, but it does raise the question: Are denominational difference in one culture equally those of another?

            However we answer this question, we have known of our Lord’s Presence throughout.

Faithfully,

            Stan

Uganda Days #3

Saturday AM: 

            At breakfast we began our day reflecting briefly upon Jesus’ words regarding “the least of these” my brothers and sisters (Matthew 25:34-40).  This passage was apropos: soon we were to care for those, who, even within an impoverished setting, are among the least of the least.  Responding to their needs, a local church converts their sanctuary space into a clinic, where doctors seek to address the medical needs of those who have neither the opportunity nor the means to receive medical attention.  

            As we concluded our breakfast, we were encouraged to see the face of Jesus in the lives of those served by the clinic. 

            When we drove up to the church building, we saw approximately two hundred, mostly women and children, seated upon benches within the shade of a large tree. However, not all knew shade: those seated in the first two rows, even at 8:30am, felt the intensity of the mid-winter sun.  Patiently they sat, and patient they remained throughout the morning.  By 9am the clinic staff of approximately thirty: ten Zionsville Americans, twenty-five Ugandans, and five doctors had received their instructions and assigned stations.         

            By groups of ten, those seeking care first received prayerful words of encouragement, followed by a simple triage process, the meeting with a doctor, and eventually the fulfilling of a prescription.  Moving chair-by-chair through the stations, by 1:30pm the two hundred had received attention and a simple lunch of bananas, chipatis, and water.              

            In my view, this experience mirrored Jesus’ words to those of Nazareth:  “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor” (Luke 4:18-19).  

            That afternoon, the word on the village road was very positive: those who had sought aid were satisfied.  Of course, although thankful, some of us wondered: What of the infant rushed to the front, listless and unresponsive? or, What of the child, whose blood pressure was sky high?

Saturday PM:

            With further reflection, I ended the day sensing that I had regained a further insight into Jesus’ feeding the thousands: “He had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34).  May we do no less.

Faithfully,

            Stan

Ps. In my next blog I hope to share regarding Sunday’s worship and the opening of Monday’s conference for pastors.

Uganda Days #2

            Forty hours is the time we spent in transit from Indianapolis to Lira, Uganda.  Or calculated differently, from my rising Tuesday 7am (US time) to lights out, 9pm Thursday (Ugandan time) I was mostly wakeful for fifty-six hours.  I note these time lapses, however, not to suggest that ours was a monumental achievement, but rather to highlight the wonder: how remarkable that we were able to travel such great distances in just forty hours.  

A century ago, such a venture would have required weeks if not months.  Likewise, how remarkable that our luggage landed at Entebbe when we landed. Admittedly, some of our pieces were worse for the ware; nevertheless, none were lost.

            Upon our arriving at 3:30am, we then journied north to Lira, arriving there approximately nine hours later.  Because of the early hour, at first we could see little of the countryside, apart from recognizing its  rising and falling, like the crest and trough of ocean waves; but by 8am we saw that the land was richly green, exhibiting a variety of trees, including pines.  I had not anticipated that this equitorial country would have so many acres given to pine trees.  Whether or not  these pines are a govenmental effort to reclaim portions of the land, I do not know; but that they bode well for Uganda’s future, I do not doubt.  Moreover, as we journied north, and as I observed the great numbers of tin roofs, the many village markets en route, the many small-engine motorcyles, and the use of barbedwire, I concluded that economically Uganda is faring better than Malawi—although I also concluded that both countries are impoverished, the one more so than the other.

            When once we arrived at our hotel in Lira, and after refreshing showers, we then toured the Otino Waa Orphange, which will be the site of our ministry. I would encourage you to turn to their website, in order to better understand and appreciate their ministry and history; even so, here I will make these observations:  “Otino Waa” means “our children”; it was founded in 2003, when seventy-eight children were about to be abducted by “The Lord’s Resistence Army,” rebels who turned children into murderous, depraved “soldiers”; and they now provide home and fine schooling for nearly three hundred children.

            I look forward to relating to “Our Children” both tomorrow and over the weekend, mindful that the  Kingdom of God will be populated, literally and figuratively, by children.

Hopefully,

            Stan 

Uganda Days #1

            Uncharacteristically, this morning I awoke with the words: “Great is thy faithfulness” echoing within the labyrinth of my heart and mind.  The words and their echo were not momentary, but were a quiet presence.  When finally awake, I began to focus: in five hours I’ll join the others of our team, and in fifteen hours we’ll be en route to Istanbul and then Entebbe.

            Those words, “Great is thy faithfulness,” were very clear to me, and yet I knew their context within the Book of Lamentations. Attributed to Jeremiah, Lamentations reflect the national horror and destruction that was Jerusalem and the vassal nation of Judah – utter ruin, without the least hint of hope, or so it must have felt.  Nonetheless, in the midst of his five laments, in chapter 3 Jeremiah first penned:

                  “He shot into my vitals the arrows of his quiver; … He has filled me with bitterness, he    has sated me with wormwood.  He has made my teeth grind on gravel, and made me cower in ashes; my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is …”

And then he penned:

            “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:   The steadfast love of the LORD        never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is    your faithfulness.”

            As I recalled the context of his words, the piercing anguish, I realized that my experience: the details and preparations for Uganda, the anxious thoughts, hardly compare to Jeremiah’s – or even the difficulties of those we’ll encounter in Uganda.  

            However, admittedly I too need to be reassured: our hours of travel; our getting to bed approximately fifty-five hours later; and the questions regarding our venture: Will we be of genuine encouragement?

            So my day began … and then we discovered that our dog was horribly sick, necessitating a quick trip to the vet hospital.  While Mary drove to the vet, I then began to receive emails from a dear friend, who needed my help asap.  Not doubting his need, even as I packed a few last items, we then sought to fulfill his request: a gift card for a cancer patient – only to discover that we had fallen prey to an email scam.

            As we lived these last-minute stresses, I was reminded: soon I would be among those, whose stresses far exceed mine, and yet daily they affirm: “God is good, and God is good all the time.”  Indeed, He is faithful.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Vista Faith

            For a score of months, I have repeatedly turned to a photograph of a Rocky Mountain scene: a mountain vista in the foreground; a luxuriant green mountain valley in the distance; and beyond the valley, higher, snow capped peaks.  And yet, well beyond the valley and the snow capped peaks, amid a translucent haze, lies another range of mountains.  

            When I first viewed this scene, I wished and prayed that my life’s path would provide such a vista, instead of a helter-skelter path, that wound around great trees, over protruding rocks, and through thick underbrush.  At those moments, to be able to glimpse a greater view, even if only partial, would have provided me sufficient consolation and encouragement.  Or, in terms of my life, at those moments I knew that Malawi and the care of pastors figured significantly in my life, but still I could see little.  All I knew to do was to follow the path.  

            However, eventually this path paralleled a small, craggy ravine, which provided greater moments of sunlight and fresh air; but as I trekked, always ascending, the ravine began to drop precipitously even as it became wider.  I knew that, if this ravine did not become a valley, it promised access to a valley – and if a valley, then my present path would most likely grant the vista I desired. Thus, these “ravine moments” reflected my helping to form a small pastors’ group, as well as my commitment to receive training as a spiritual director.  Moreover, throughout these moments, I continued to write and edit working resources for John’s and Mark’s Gospels, even as our commitment to Zionsville Presbyterian Church increased: providing encouragement and help within that community however and whenever I could.

            Ah, but the moment has come, when the longed-for vista has been attained: a great, inviting valley stretches before me, its floor perhaps two thousand feet below me.  With clarity I can see my most immediate destination, even if the path down is not clear.  Caring for pastors, spiritual direction, and Malawi (and most likely Romania and may be Uganda) constitute that destination, as well as the writing, which will aid ministry in those locales.  I can see the destination, but now, how to descend to the valley floor – which direction to take, becomes the looming question.  Shall I turn to the right, to the left, or might there be a path just over the crest upon which I stand?

            With clarity faith-choices still remain.  

Believing,

            Stan

A Comparison

            Nearly four weeks ago I returned from Cluj Napoca, Romania. As I’ve since indicated to you, my return flight really was easy and uneventful.  Oh to be certain, Thursday, the day of my return, from my rising at 3am to my turning the light out at 10pm, was a long day: 26 hours; but I awoke the next morning, Friday, having experienced little jetlag.  Perhaps overly repetitive, I note again, my travel to and from Romania was relatively easy, but this ease of travel moved me to give comparative thought: Has that not been the cultural and historic relationship of the West vis-à-vis Africa?

            Let me explain: last November 7th, my return from Lilongwe, Malawi was 33 hours in transit, which did not include awaking 7 hours prior to departure, and lights out 7 hours after arrival.  That is, my return from Malawi was a 47-hour “day,” or 21 hours, nearly a full day longer than my “Romanian day.” Admittedly, to be able to travel from Lilongwe to Indianapolis in 33 hours, irrespective pillow-to-pillow, is remarkable; nonetheless, it highlights my point: from an earlier European and a later American perspective, Africa has always been at a great remove.  Added to this reality of distance is a greater factor: cultural heritage.  Africa is Africa, the West is the West; Malawi is African, Romania is Western.  

            Given that English is spoken in both Malawi and Romania, as evidenced by signs and billboards, nonetheless, while in Romania I was far more aware of a language barrier.  Even so, as I compare my two experiences, culturally I have been more “at home” in Romania than in Malawi, not because Malawians are less friendly – not at all: they are the “warm heart of Africa” – but because I can more readily tap into Romanian, Western ways than I can Malawian, African ways.  Thus as I have compared my two, cultural experiences, I have recognized within me that historic response: Africa is so far away, and it is so much easier to attend to matters closer to home. Perhaps my reflections here are a profound grasp of the obvious; but then, often it is well to live in the light of the obvious. 

Please do not misunderstand me: it has been my heart's delight to be in both countries, and it will be my privilege to return to each, to shepherd among shepherds.  It simply has been timely for me to grapple with the obvious.

Thoughtfully,

            Stan

Romanian Road #6

            When relating to a blind man, Jesus asked: “What do you see?” (Mark 8:24); when traveling north to Caesarea Philippi, He asked His disciples: “Whom do people say I am?” (Mark 8:27), with the attending follow up question: “Whom do you say I am?” (Mark 8:29).  Likewise, sometime later He asked His disciples about their recent discussion, which centered upon “who was the greatest” (Mark 9:33); and still later, after James and John had asked to sit at His right and left “in glory,” He asked them: “Are you able to drink the cup which I drink or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am being baptized?” (Mark 10:38).  

            In each of these moments from Mark’s Gospel, Jesus expected an answer; and each of these moments are integral to Jesus’ interactions with His disciples, as He sought to prepare them for Jerusalem and His death – and each highlights His strong tendency to ask questions.

            I allude to these moments, because they were central to two of the three pastoral retreats I led while in Romania.  For these retreats, our focus was: “Christian Leadership,” and my intent was that we might carefully observe Jesus and His leadership, most especially as He led His disciples.  Although a number of leadership traits emerge, when attention is given to Mark 8:22 – 9:1, 9:30-50, and 10:32-45, nonetheless chief among them is His asking questions.  In part His questions elicited information, but mostly His questions prompted others to think about their assumptions, about their feelings and thoughts, and most certainly about themselves.  Of course Jesus was not the first to employ questions to great advantage, but we will fail to grasp fully His giftedness as a leader, if we do not note His propensity to ask those very simple but probing questions: Why?  Who?  What? Where?  When?  He asked, expecting that others would of necessity answer thoughtfully.

            Upon my return from Romania, I was asked to compare Romanian pastors with their Malawian counterparts: Did they respond differently?  In answer to this question, I volunteered: “No – no I really didn’t observe a difference. Rather, I have found that, when encouraged to think, people are people, irrespective their native origins – Romanian, Malawian, or American.   When given the freedom to think/ask/respond, people engage.  Moreover, when given the encouragement to ask questions of the Scriptures and of one another, even as they are prompted to answer similar questions, people – pastors and church leaders – benefit greatly.”  

            While in Romania, I asked questions.

Faithfully,

            Stan

Romanian Road #5

            I have now returned from Romania, but without having written these updates with the frequency I had hoped.  Of my fifteen-day venture, apart from two days spent in travel either to or from Romania, thirteen of those days found me teaching and/or preaching.  For me these were days that drew upon my energies and gifts, and thus they were days well spent: I do believe I was able to help and encourage pastors and church leaders.  As an expression of this help and encouragement, I was reminded of Fredrick Buechner’s observation:

            “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

            If Buechner’s observation is accurate, then in truth such was my recent Romanian experience; I knew great joy as I sought to encourage pastors and church leaders, even as they plumbed more deeply Scriptural depths, an encouragement to which they readily responded.  Whether or nor such encouragement corresponded with their greatest needs, I do not know; nonetheless, I do know that I experienced a great synergy and fit within the three settings of Giurgiu, Sinaia, and Cluj Napoca. Admittedly, “hunger” might overstate their responses, and yet something of that nature occurred as they were given the opportunity to read a passage from Mark or 2Timothy, think about it, answer questions relevant to the passage, and then discuss with one another their observations, insights, and questions.  As I’ve shared previously, mine was the delight of sharing in this process with them.

            Two days prior to my leaving Cluj and Romania, I met with two pastors, in order to discuss how we might collaborate in writing and publishing materials helpful to Romanian pastors and churches.  From our discussion, we made two initial commitments: the one pastor would work with and translate into Romanian The Sent One, my resource to John’s Gospel; whereas the other pastor would do likewise with The Opening, my resource to Mark’s Gospel, chapters 1-8.  For my part, I would seek to publish The Opening early this spring, followed by my work on the second half of Mark’s Gospel. I would also seek funding, in order to provide Romanian pastors these translations at a nominal cost to them. 

            At this writing I do believe that I will return to Romania, perhaps either late May or early summer of 2019, believing that the way is open for me to care using the gifts given to me.

Hopefully,

            Stan

Romanian Road #4

Romanian Road #4

Our conference in Sinaia ended Thursday (3/22) at noon, and by 1:30pm we were en route to Cluj Napoca, Romania’s second largest city: a city of approximately 500,000 people, experiencing significant economic growth.  (In this latter regard, Microsoft is in the process of building “a little city within a city,” intending to employ 5,000 workers.). We finally reached Cluj, literally and figuratively the heart of Transylvania, about 9:30pm, after having had a pizza dinner (if desired, in Romania one orders ketchup with pizza) in a fascinating, double-walled citadel fortress, Alba Carolina, first built by the Romans and then renovated generations later in the 1530s.

For some moments as we drove through the Carpathian Mountains — which provided wonderful scenes of snow, mountains, rushing streams, grazing sheep, and fields abounding with colonies of moles— I heard of a “missionary wing” of the Orthodox Church.  As a 1920s response to life within the church, not unlike our para-church organizations within Protestantism or the multitude of historic orders within Catholicism, this “wing” is led by lay leaders, who are essentially “tent makers,” but who meet with “their flocks” in their own buildings.  The difficulty of this arrangement, as is true in our American settings, arises vis-à-vis the sacraments: Who is able to administer and to receive them?  Or stated differently, how does one relate to and change traditional practices and/or authority, particularly when these appears to be inhibiting or even forcefully quelling necessary reforms or life?  Within the Romanian setting, the dynamic between these “cults” (so denoted by the government) and the Orthodox Church was exacerbated during the communist era, when by the fact that some priests within the Orthodox Church functioned as informants for the Communist Party.  Of course, since 1989 that situation no longer exists, but the memory lingers.

As I thought about these church dynamics and relationships, I was reminded of our Sinaia discussions regarding 2Timothy and Paul’s relationship with some who had been under his leadership.  Twice within that letter he noted that he had been “abandoned,” or so he felt, by those with whom he had shared much.  They had turned elsewhere — whether or not seeking new life, security, or chaffing under his leadership can be debated — raising for me that question: How do you keep the sheep together?  This question and attending problem was true for Paul, and remains true for the Romanian and US church.  Comparable to centrifugal force, we the “sheep of His pasture” tend regularly to be pulled away from our center, who is Christ; I venture  only He has the power to pull us back together.

Hopefully,
    Stan

Romanian Road #3

Romanian Road #3    

When last I wrote, I was anticipating the pastors’ conference/retreat to be held in Sinaia, a lovely resort setting in the Carpathian Mountains (i.e. approximately a 3-hour drive from Giurgiu).  That anticipation has now become a reality — a reality nearing conclusion.  The majority of my teaching time has now occurred, even as a light, sun-streaked snow falls.  The conference began Monday and I began teaching in earnest yesterday: a teaching time-span of approximately 9 hours on Tuesday, and another 3 hours this morning.

As was true in Giurgiu (and as has been true in Malawi and Bangladesh), once again these moments in Sinaia underscore my experience: when given the opportunity, pastors and church leaders heartily engage in and relish moments, when they can study the Scriptures together, and interact with one another even as they interact with the text.  Their energy levels increase as does their openness to one another, and I am given the privilege of sharing in both, even as I listen and learn from them.  The mutual benefit is great.

Diligently the 42 pastors and leaders have given themselves to understanding and absorbing Paul’s challenge to his “son of the faith,” his colleague and protégé, Timothy.  In 2Timothy, in essence Paul encouraged Timothy to suffer for the sake of the Gospel, a path Timothy would rather not trek.  If the authoritative leader of the church, Paul, had been incarcerated as a common criminal, then what could Timothy expect if not much the same?  Apparently he sought safety and security (which I fully appreciate), but if such became his god, as Paul knew well, then Timothy would not know the life and hope he so desired, both now and forevermore — the life and hope he had already experienced in Christ Jesus.  Thus Paul reminded Timothy of the “via dolorosa,” the way Jesus trod, observing that “all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2Timothy 3:12).

Based upon experience, this latter thought is not one I can readily affirm, but such is not true for some of those here in Sinaia: as one, 46 year-old pastor observed: “Although I grew up experiencing ridicule, because I was a ‘believer,’ it was my parents’ generation who truly suffered at the hands of the Communist Party.  And it would seem that such ridicule and persecution is coming upon the West.”    

I wonder, even as I delight in my present privilege.

Stan