africa

I kept having to pinch myself to see if it was real. I was actually in Africa. Walking in the red dust, driving the rural roads, meeting and speaking with many brave and patient people, eating cooked corn meal and sleeping under mossie nets. What an experience; a night in Johanesburg, South Africa then driving through the countries of Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia and Botswana this last month. Border crossings, speeding fines, police checks, elephants crossing the road, spending billions of dollars on lunch in Harare... so many stories to tell, so much to process, so many challenges to my thinking and theology. AIDs, poverty, abuse of power and violence contrasted with courage, sacrifice, faith and laughter. This is Africa.

A few of the many photos I took along the way.


"The Boys" - a rural village in Malawi.


"Oranges for sale" - on the road to Zimbabwe.


"Fiwali sunset" - Zambia.

That I actually got to do this - wow!

zo's place

Although we all missed Lal, Jo, David, Emily, Simon, Sarah, Kamis and Katie, the rest of the Holt clan thoroughly enjoyed Zoe's hospitality as we celebrated Christmas together last night.


The food was stunning, the drinks flowed freely, Paul flooded the garage with the smell of cooked seafood, Nathaniel chased bugs, Greg built a dinosaur, Meg organised a game that kept erupting in laughter, Tom's afro had disappeared, everybody talked, laughed, ate and enjoyed the good company.


Pity the focus was'nt sharp, my photography skills aren't as good as Greg's video productions on youtube.


Jarred & Jess ignored the "no drinking" rule in the spa.

Thanks so much Zo for your hospitality given so graciously. We're all looking forward to the next big gathering - the wedding.

choice

I have been using Mark Pierson's advent cards to reflect on the coming of Christ during this season. Each card ends with a question. The first was, "If God's messenger spoke to you today, what would you most like to hear?" As I pondered this, I read Denise Levertov's poem, Annunciation and was struck by another and perhaps deeper question, "If God's messenger spoke to me what choice would I make?" I often talk with people (much like myself) who long to hear God speak to them. Maybe God is speaking far more clearly than we realise but our response to the message is turned away from in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair and with relief. Ordinary lives continue.

Annunciation

We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on the solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.
But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.
She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.

Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?
Some unwittingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.

She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.
Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, “How can this be?”
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angels reply,
perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:
to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love –
but who was God.
This was the minute no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.
A breath unbreathed,
Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.

She did not cry, “I cannot, I am not worthy,”
nor, “I have not the strength.”
She did not submit with gritted teeth,
raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.

Denise Levertov

pink

Recently Val & I spent a marvelous weekend in central Victoria. I had to speak at Bendigo Baps on the Sunday so we booked a B&B at Woodend for a couple of nights. The hospitality was special, we relaxed with huge cooked breakfasts, bird-watching, waking to a raucous dawn chorus, a walk in the bush (came across the "pink" house above), and good conversation. We lunched with some special friends on the Sunday then dropped round to see Terry & Jeannie Hunter. So good to catch up with good people.

Have been slowly reading some good books lately. Alan Lewis's Between cross and resurrection. Reza Aslan's No God but God. Parts of Jurgen Moltmann's The Crucified God.

For a story-teller like me, I liked this quote about scripture stories from Alan Lewis.
... profound concepts and complex doctrines are finally no better match than stories for the heights and depths of the divine.

shane claiborne

Taken from the back of Federation Square looking down the Yarra to South Bank

Have just finished Shane Claiborne's book "Irresistible Revolution". Here are a few quotes.

Fall in love with a group of people who are marginalized and suffering, and then you wont have to worry about which cause you need to protest. Then the issues will choose you... There are times when injustice will take us to the streets and might land us in jail, but it is our love for God and our neighbour - not our rage or our arrogance - that counts.

Just as "believers" are a dime a dozen in the church, so are "activists" in social justice circles nowadays. But lovers are hard to come by. And I think that's what our world is desperately in need of - lovers, people who are building deep, genuine relationships with fellow strugglers along the way, and who actually know the faces of the people behind the issues they are concerned about.

We must never fall in love with "the revolution" ot "the movement". We can easily become so driven by our vision for church growth, community, or social justice that we forget the little things, like caring for those around us.

samuel wells 2

Took this shot late one afternoon last week strolling in the botanic gardens, Melbourne.

For Christians the principal practice by which the moral imagination is formed, the principal form of discipleship training, is worship. Worship is the time when the conventional rules of the fallen world are suspended, when God is at last addressed as Lord, when time and heart and voice and posture are directed toward knowing God and making him known, toward experiencing the glorious liberty of being his child, when need and expectation are focused on their true source, when all desires are known and no secrets are hid, when attention moves from what is to what might yet be. Each aspect of worship represents a vital dimension of moral formation.

(Samuel Wells - Improvisation)

samuel wells

One can be moved to sacrifice others, or oneself, in order to change things, rather than recognize that Christ has made the sacrifice instead. This tendency is particularly common on questions of peace and war, God is on our side, yet the other side appears to be winning, or at least posing an intolerable threat: therefore, so that God's will may prevail, we must destroy the other side, or at least teach them a lesson. The fact that the Messiah has come, and has shown how God addresses conflict, and has shown that we should concentrate on the abundance we can share rather than the scarcity that will be fought over - this fact tends to be ignored.
(Samuel Wells - Improvisation)

This shot was taken in Banda Aceh, Indonesia. Two men I got to know, they were training as bobcat drivers hoping to rebuild their lives after the tsunami

south melbourne

Sunrise of my heart, I thrill to the touch of your colours in my life