Small, step-wise changes

"How do you encourage people to keep their hope," Joan (Kingsolver's friend) asked, "but not their complacency?"She was involved that spring in producing a film about global climate change, and preoccupied with striking this balance. The truth is so horrific: we are marching ourselves to the maw of our own extinction. An audience that doesn't really get that will amble out of the theatre unmoved, go home and change nothing. But an audience that does get it may be so terrified they'll feel doomed already. They might walk out looking paler, but still do nothing. How is it possible to inspire an appropriately repentant attitude towards a planet that is really, really upset? ...

We cherish our fossil-fuel driven conveniences, such as the computer I am using to write these words. We can't exactly name-call this problem, or vote it away. The cure involves reaching down into ourselves and pulling out a new kind of person. The practical problem is, of course, how to do that. It's impossible to become a fuel purist, and it seems like failure to change our ways only halfway, or a pathetic ten per cent. So why even try? When the scope of the problem seems insuperable, isn't it reasonable just to call this one, give up, and get on with life as we know it?

... This is a now or never kind of project. But a project, none-the-less. Global-scale alteration from pollution didn't happen when human societies started using a little bit of fossil fuel. It happened after unrestrained growth, irresponsible management, and a cultural refusal to assign any moral value to excessive consumption. Those habits can be reformed. They have been reformed several times in the past. In the last century we've learned that some of our favourite things like DDT and the propellants in aerosol cans were rapidly unraveling the structure and substance of our biosphere. We gave them up, and reversed the threats. Now the reforms required are more systemic, and nobody seems to want to go first...

I share with almost every adult I know this crazy quilt of optimism and worries, feeling locked into certain habits but keen to change them in the right direction. And the tendency to feel like a jerk for falling short of absolute conversion I'm not sure why. If a friend had a coronary scare and started exercising three times a week, who would hound him about the other four days? These earnest efforts might just get us past the train-wreck of the daily news... searching out redemption where we can find it: recycling or car-pooling or growing a garden, or saving a species or something. Small, step-wise changes in personal habits aren't trivial. Ultimately they will, or won't, add up to having been the thing that mattered.

Barbara Kingsolver,  Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, (London, Faber and Faber Ltd, 2007) pp 345-6.

Waves

Put yourself here... mmmmmmm....

In England today it is zero degrees, grey-skied and snowing. Mid-March!!!! I could do with this beach right now... You can just hear the waves just gently, continuously, ... hissing? sighing? pshhhing? towards you and frothing right over your toes. And the sun feels warm on your face and the sand is warm and the water is deliciously cool...

This Sunday at our church we had quite a special visiting speaker, Guy Chevreau. He is Canadian and his name is pronounced Gee, like ghee. He is a renewal theologian and wrote the first book looking at the theology and context of the Toronto Blessing (as a believer in it), "Catch the Fire." Since then he has written other books and is a well-known speaker. We use his book Turnings, on revivals, in our courses at WTC. And now Dan and I have a signed copy for ourselves!

Guy talked about how God initiates, and how God's grace is like the waves of the sea, rolling in one after another, without ceasing. He referred to John ch 1, where it says, "from his mercy we have all received, grace upon grace." He told us that research has shown that on average, a wave rolls into the beach every eight seconds, and that in 24 hours, about 10,000 waves come in. So God's grace comes to us wave after wave, grace after grace, grace upon grace. So we should be open to receiving the grace, the goodness, and expect it. He said he himself has had a tough four years, but he has a peace that God has tremendous blessings for him. So he doesn't mean that life is good all the time, rather that God is blessing us all the time, if we only knew it.

Another thing, he said that when we stand on the beach and look out to sea, we can only see a certain distance. But beyond where we can see, the waves are still rolling towards us. So, there are waves of grace coming towards us, for the things that we don't even know are going to happen yet.

It was a good message, comforting in the sense of strengthening, and building and reassuring. So I thought I would pass it on to you.

Whatever is the world coming to...?

This morning, drinking coffee and reading in bed, deliciously late in the morning, Dan and I were talking about the movie he went to see last night (I didn't want to go) - Django Unchained, by Quentin Tarantino. We know Tarantino's movies are very violent, always, but some students had seen this one and raved about it, and it won Oscars, so... Dan wanted to see it. He felt that it was a good movie, but, horribly violent, in fact, it got more and more violent as it went along. He commented that it is incredible the level of violence and gore we are used to seeing now on the screen. People no longer complain about it, although not everyone likes it obviously, it is just almost always there.

The graphic-ness is partly because special effects have developed so much, that anything can be portrayed realistically, even disembowellings, burnings at the stake, and decapitations.  And then apparently there is the director's urge always to push the boundary, and do the next thing, the next most horrifying, bloodthirsty thing, just because, you can. And it is for the sake of "art", after all. Um, no, I don't think so. I think it is for the sake of being "daring," and shocking.

At the same time, we have been watching a TV series we missed while away, "The Tudors" (which I do not recommend as you will understand in a minute.) Along with many I have a fascination for the Tudor period, Henry VIII and Elizabeth I and all that. I enjoy reading novels set in that time. But it was also by all accounts a frightening, violent time to be alive. Then, people went to watch in the flesh the beheadings and burnings, and shouted along. So, maybe I shouldn't feel so concerned... But again, I have been shocked in another way watching this series, about the graphic sex that is shown. Bar actual genitalia, you see ev-er-y-thing. It is strange really, how the most private activities are now acted out, not briefly, not just above the neck, not with one foot on the floor, not with even a scrap of sheet or hair discreetly positioned. This is in a show that would have been aired late evening, and on national TV, not rated as pornography, just, a "historical drama." You have to wonder about the actors - they are basically acting out porn, and, did they really sign up for that? It has changed so much in the course of my adult life, that I am sure older actors must wonder why and how they have ended up stripping off quite so much. I mean, would you do it?

So is it in there for the sake of art? Sometimes they say it is essential to the story - but usually, it isn't. The implication would be enough. Have we have become so used to seeing it that we don't question it? Or, am I really that much more squeamish about both violence and sex than most people - even than most other missionaries?!

When I was first a short-term missionary in Zambia, there was a lovely older American missionary lady, who loved reading, and often lent out her books to both other missionaries and Zambian friends. So, she had gone through all her books and used a black sharpie to blot out all the swear words in her books! And really, there weren't that many! Now, she would have to blot out a good proportion of every book.  Although I laughed about that, I do warn friends when I lend them books about the "rude bits."

Oh dear, what is the world coming to?

The archbishops and me...

If you can't name-drop in your own blog... where can you???

Today Dan and I went to the Trustees meeting for the UCU UK Partners, which was held this time at Cuddesdon Theological College, just outside Oxford. We had a really good productive meeting, which was good. Also, it was lovely to visit Cuddesdon, which is in a beautiful rural location, amongst rolling fields and sheep. I don't know how the students concentrate, with such lovely wide views outside the windows...

It happens that Cuddesdon is near the village where my parents lived when I was born, and they went to the church there. And it happened that Robert Runcie was the vicar and principal of Cuddesdon at that time - he later became the Archbishop of Canterbury. Since it was my parents' church, I was baptised there, by Robert Runcie - my Dad remembers how he lifted me up afterwards, right up in the air, facing the congregation, and said, "We welcome you" and I looked out at everyone. I don't remember a thing, of course... But today we called into the church to see it, as I had never been back since we moved away when I was six months old. It is a beautiful, wonky, unspoiled old church, parts dating back to 1124 AD! The side bits  were added in the 1200s, and not much has been done to it since. Amazing.

But I must add here that Robert Runcie is not the only A of C I have had dealings with. Donald Coggin, who was archbishop in the 1970s, came to preach at my university college in 1987, and I sat beside him at chapel breakfast - he tried talking to me in Hebrew but it didn't work and we ate our fried eggs together. George Carey invited me to tea at Lambeth Palace, as an Anglican mission partner - there were a few others there, I might add... We did meet him again later in Harare at the WCC, and in Mukono as a visitor to UCU - he didn't remember me on any occasion... And then Rowan Williams, was my Early Church tutor in Cambridge, and I had tutorials in his college rooms. He made me tea with sour milk that had sat on his outside window-sill (as all the tutors did). I liked him a lot.

So you can understand I am a bit miffed that the new Archbishop, Justin Welby, I have never met, and I do not know him from Adam. Well. Perhaps something should be done about this.

Some faces from the past. And, did they really use to travel like that?!!

We are putting together a book of old pictures of Bishop Tucker, hopefully in time for the centenary event this year. Rev John Hunter sent us this one, and I thought a lot of you might enjoy seeing it. John Hunter was a principal of the college from 1962-65, and he visited again in 1993 which is when this photo was taken. So I can name a few of the staff from 1993 but not all of them. The ones I know, l - r, are,
-----, ----- , Eliphaz Maari, ----, Elisha Mbonigaba, ----, -----, Lusania Kasamba,  John Magumba. John Hunter was here with his son Christopher. Any filling in of names appreciated...

This shows John Hunter's mother, who had lived in Uganda long before her son, travelling from Kampala to Toro circa 1909, in what they called "landies". Incredible. The road on the other hand, doesn't look much different...

Words on Re-entry from a friend

The following is an excerpt from Mark Meynell's blog, Quaerentia. Mark and Rachel are friends of ours who worked in Kampala, Uganda, at the same time as us and were also with Crosslinks. Mark blogs about all kinds of cultural, social, christian and media issues - very worth reading - but this one is about re-entry so I asked him if I could include it here - hooray for "cut and paste"! 

"It’s standard practice to help returning cross-cultural workers to anticipate the challenges of reentry. Reverse culture shock is common (though in my case, I had far greater culture shock going to South Africa for the first time, while living in Kampala, than I ever did living in East Africa or returning to London – but that’s perhaps a story for another day!).

But some of the trickiest waters to navigate come from the simple fact that the world had carried on regardless of the tumultuous experiences we’d lived through. Well, of course it had. Why should we imagine it otherwise? It takes a certain type of ego to assume the world should stop to admire every time we take a breath. But there is an exquisite sense of isolation for anyone returning home from life-changing exploits.

You can show your photos, describe the key moments, send out your newsletters. There’s only so much you can say, and so long you can go on before the subject gets changed (that’s if you’re lucky enough to encounter people who want to know about it in the first place; some seem never to exhibit any curiosity about others). But the simple truth is: while you’ll never be the same again, those at home seem still to be precisely the same. They’re still sitting in the same seats in church, they’re going through the same old routines, they’re pursuing the same old goals. Of course that is nonsense at one level: none of us is todayexactly the same person we were yesterday. It is all just a question of degree. Nevertheless, it can be painful and isolating.

We spent the last week watching the extended version of Peter Jackson’s entire Lord of the Rings trilogy – one disc an evening over six nights.... And it was magnificent – it doesn’t pall (despite my initial reluctance to sit through it again!). I saw all kinds of things I’d not seen before, inevitably.

But one of the most affecting bits this time came right at the end (in Return of the King’s notoriously drawn out but narratively essential last 20 minutes or so).

Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin have returned home at last. They canter into the Shire – the same grumpy old hobbit is sweeping his porch near the edge of Hobbiton and in the Green Dragon pub, people are singing the same old songs and laughing at the same old jokes. The four hobbits sit at their table (I seem to think we see them at the start of the very first movie at the same table) and drink their ale. Of course, outwardly they look identical.

But the scene is pitch-perfect. No one gives them the slightest glance. But they do look at and to each other. Each has endured great terrors; each carries deep scars, mental and physical. They don’t need words. It’s enough just to be together. They smile. They drink. They know.

We certainly didn’t defeat the power of Mordor in our time. But we had our own issues! And so I certainly relate to returning exiles far more readily than I ever did before.

So perhaps there’s a little challenge there. To be more aware of returning exiles. Even to ask a few gentle enquiries about what their time away might have meant can make a big difference. After all, looking after exiles has something of a kingdom resonance to it, does it not?"

Thanks, Mark!

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Slippery Slope...

My lecture today on the Preparation for Living and Working Cross-culturally course (Thrive!) was about emotional health, and keeping it. Well, hindsight is the best teacher, they say! Fortunately, I had the notes from the wonderful lady who normally teaches this lecture but is off on sabbatical. I found it enlightening and helpful as I prepared it, and I thought some bits of it might be worth posting.

Mags based the lecture on the Beatitudes (when Jesus says, "Blessed are those who..."), and suggests that they are Jesus' reflections on his experience of living cross-culturally - ie living on earth as a human being! And actually, if you read them in the light of living outside your home culture, you will notice how amazingly relevant they are...

Blessed are the poor in spirit...
Blessed are those who mourn...
Blessed are the meek...
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness...
Blessed are the merciful...
Blessed are the pure in heart...
Blessed are the peacemakers...
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake...
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you...

One student pointed out that they are not qualities to be aspired to, at least, not all of them. But, they are states of mind which we will find ourselves in, in which we should rejoice because they will make us better, they will make us "blessed." So we should feel strongly our dependence on God, we should recognize our losses and grieve them, we should be meek in approaching others and another culture, we should strive to be righteous in everything we do, we should treat others with mercy, etc etc.
This last one, treating others with mercy, not judgement, is a real help when it comes to working and living alongside people of other cultures and sometimes other viewpoints, other parenting methods, other opinions...

Another part of Mags' lecture that I used and thought was very helpful is the slippery slope of the Ds:

Beware the Ds...:

Disappointment – when we fail to live up to our own expectations, or when our expectations of others or of our role are not met etc etc - we can experience disappointment which can lead to…

Doubt – of ourselves, of our calling, am I meant to be here... of God’s ability to care for us, that leads to…

Discouragement – so we begin to lose heart and lose motivation and energy, which leads to…

Depression – where our spirit is broken and that can lead to…    (= burn-out;)

Despair. Paul experienced this, see 2 Cor 1:8  Prov 18:14

Yes I get this! So I told the students, this really happens. But if you are aware of what is going on, you don't need to slide down the slope... If you feel the process starting, if you feel disappointment or resentment or if you start to doubt you are meant to be where you are, stop, and listen to it. See the flashing lights. Identify what expectation is not being met. Pray about it. If it is because your expectation was faulty, ask God to help you Let It Go. Ask him to show you what other thing he has for you, because, he does have something for you. Clearly, the further down the slope you go, the harder it is to climb back up.

Whilst our emotional health might seem like a worthy sacrifice to make for the kingdom, (as in the title of Marjory Foyle's very good book, "Honourably Wounded," about missionary stress) - I don't believe God wants us to sacrifice it, he wants us to thrive where he plants us, he wants us to be well, to be blessed. But, he knows us. It is not a sin to slide. God will bring good out of it.