A Cracked Kettle - a missionary's blog

Biblical proportions

2009-09-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

I remember once, in my "former life" as a cabinetmaker, receiving a call from a very, very, very wealthy woman who wanted to come by my shop and get my advice on the design of something she and her husband wanted to build. Having done a great deal of work for her I knew there was no guessing what on earth she was thinking about building! Over the years her eccentricity had pushed my skill and creative imagination to the limits ... not to mention my patience.

I was in the office when she arrived, and when I walked out she had just heaved a massive roll of blueprints onto my workbench. As she unrolled this colossal tree stump size roll of blueprints, I'm sure I audibly gasped, as I began to realize the size of this house they were thinking of building. I'm not even sure you can reasonably call it a house .... it was nearly 40,000 square feet!

Regaining my mental footing I asked her what she needed my help with. She told me that she was having trouble determining the size of the laundry room (as if she was ever going to do laundry!) and wanted my opinion on whether what was drawn was big enough. What was drawn was nearly 20' x 40' - which staggers the imagination for a laundry room for a family of four! But she couldn't visualize it. Her problem was that she couldn't appreciate the scale of the blueprints. Everything just seemed so small to her - which may be why the house ended up nearly 40,000 sq. ft.!

One of the biggest problems we have as evangelical Christians is not so much error (though I've noticed a few popular writers "emerging" who seem to enjoy dabbling with it), but rather scale or dimension. Like the woman who visited my shop, it appears that for many of us it is extremely difficult to get our minds around Biblical proportions. Not only is there the problem that Piper likes to describe as viewing life and all things religious through the wrong end of the telescope, but we also tend to view small things through a cultural microscope so that the wrong things, or at least very small and inconsequential things tend to become big in our eyes. As a result, we not only tend to lose sight of the greatness of God, but also the dignity and nobility of man made in the image of God ... and as important and urgent as the former is, it is the latter that concerns me most here in Africa. ... But I'm going to have to wait till tomorrow to expand on it. It's been a long day.

FYI

2009-09-22T11:56:00.000-07:00

Someone recently loaned me a book entitled, "Men Without God, A study of the impact of the Christian message in the north of Uganda". It was written in 1966 by J. K. Russell who appears to have been the Anglican Bishop in Northern Uganda during that period. It has been for me an interesting read. But unless you live here and have some of the quirky interests I have, I'm not making a recommendation. Nevertheless, in it I came across the following testimony from an Acholi and thought you might like to know the source of all your misery: "At the time when God made man, he gave him all the fruits of the earth to eat: millet both for white men and black men. Afterwards they separated from one another, and the white men refused to eat the black men's food. Instead they began to eat the fruit of which God said "You shall not eat". For this reason, God became angry and said "Because you have eaten of this fruit which I forbade you, you shall die." And so death came into the world because of the white men" ... thought you would want to know.

Blogging, neighbors, and the sovereignty of God

2009-09-21T22:11:00.000-07:00

I am simply mystified at how so many bloggers manage to sit and write so often and so much ... with what appears to be an astounding breadth and depth of knowledge of all current events ... and even what their fellow bloggers are saying. They obviously don't live in Africa. If I am fortunate enough to have both the electricity and the internet working at the same time, I will surely have someone come by and want to "sit" with me a while.

Whereas time management is a highly developed art form in the West, and "time" an honored and respected form of "property rights", the management of expectations seems to be the corresponding art form here in Africa. Precious little goes as "expected". But, inasmuch as we in the West "manage" our time and are genuinely more productive and prosperous for it, the typical African "has" time for their neighbor ... and I have many neighbors.

So there it is, my excuse for not posting anything for many months. I started with grand intentions and a firm resolve not to go the way of so many blogs that end after only a few posts, but I've just had a hard time getting in sync with the rhythm of life here.

But let me return to the issue of managing time. It is interesting that for all of our time saving devices that help us slice and dice up our days we never realize how small we become in the process. "Time" is us. It is actually we ourselves that are sliced and diced. We segment our lives in highly disciplined ways and give only the "time" (portion of ourselves) necessary for the task. Out of courtesy we get "straight to business" so as not to waste each other's "time". We go through life with packed schedules "meeting" people all day long ... but not really. We are really like ships passing in the night. Suddenly our colleague ends up in divorce court and we say, "Wow, I never knew they were having any problems. ... Honey, what is his wife's name again?"

Not so in Africa! People and relationships between people are much more important here than almost everything else. This is why extensive daily greetings are so important. It has taken me a while to appreciate this. I'm sure I have appeared as a barbarian to my friends and neighbors as I have said "hello" and gone straight to the point of my visit ... or worse, as I've asked them to get to the point of their visit.

Throughout this part of Africa, there is often quite a ritual of greetings between people -especially upon their first meeting of the day. As an outsider, this time of greeting appears to be an enjoyable time of sharing. But it also seems, in some way, to continue or extend an existing relationship, even between close relatives. I'm almost tempted to think that a relationship must be renewed each day by the way they greet one another, even when a good relationship already exists. It almost seems that a person cannot presume upon the relationship of yesterday to care for the relationship needs of today (relationships are the "social security" system in Africa). But this is just speculation. Yet, it is the only reason I can think of to explain why, when I leave town, I receive calls from people just to greet Susan and me. They greet, inquire of our well being (it is never just me but always Susan and me), and then they hang up. Even the process of saying "goodbye" is drawn out a bit here. You never just say goodbye and close the door behind someone. You accompany a visitor who is leaving for some distance down the road. Relationships are treated with the utmost honor and respect.

For us, the honeymoon is over. We are no longer visitors. We have been here long enough to be expected to behave "normal". We are expected to embrace the cultural value that people are esteemed far more highly than projects, plans, schedules ... or blogs. But it is, nonetheless, my sincere hope (and "expectation") to once again resume posting my musings here. But, in the very likely event of another delay, you can know that I'm not "wasting" time. I'm cultivating the art of "having" time and "managing" expectations.

Shallow slogans

2009-01-16T13:32:00.000-08:00

It has often been said (and I've said it myself) that the church in Africa is a mile wide but only an inch deep. I suppose that it would be difficult to argue against this, for in many ways this statement is a fair description. But before we swallow that slogan as the whole truth and draw an unfavorable conclusion, I want to give another perspective on Jesus' "wide and shallow" church in Africa ... and by the way, it would probably be wise to remember that it is His church ... and it is ordinarily good practice to use care when speaking of another man's wife!

Ever seen the Nile river on a map? It's really long. It runs from Lake Victoria in Uganda all the way to the Mediterranean Sea. To help you appreciate the value of this river, Uganda is preparing to build a new dam at the source of the Nile in order to generate electricity. Not too long ago Egypt threatened to send fighter jets into Uganda and blow it up if anything should happen to reduce the flow of water to Egypt. That's pretty serious! What does that indicate about the waters of the Nile?

I have been on the Nile at its source. As it leaves Lake Victoria and starts its 4000+ mile safari to the sea, it cascades down a set of falls with such amazing force that rafters and kayakers travel from around the world to experience the world class rapids it creates. But viewed from the other end of the river, from Egypt, this life-giving water (note the green in the satellite photo above in contrast to the Sahara Desert through which it passes) that Egypt is willing to go to war over finds it source thousands of miles south in a very wide and shallow Lake Victoria.

Lake Victoria is the 2nd largest (and widest) fresh water lake in the world (26,000 sq. miles) spreading itself approximately 150 miles wide. It has over 2000 miles of coastline which has become one of the most densely populated regions on the continent. Its extensive surface area belongs to three nations. But, though it is vast in size, it is the shallowest of the great lakes. So, it too has the dubious honor of being notoriously "wide" and "shallow" ... yet a source of life to so many!

Perhaps width and depth is not the complete and, therefore, true measure of things. Besides, what are we measuring against? Just how "deep" is the church in the West? I really wouldn't underestimate the life giving force of this "mile wide but inch deep" church. In the coming years this continent will most likely have the highest concentration of Christians in the world. If the same Spirit that hovered over the tumultuous waters of the unformed earth (Gen. 1) dwells in the church in Africa, it would be foolish to be hasty in forming a judgment just now. I have a suspicion that at the end of the day, God will look upon it and say, "It is good".

The transforming power of gadgets

2008-10-28T22:27:00.000-07:00

It is now seventy plus years since the "east Africa" revival blazed across this part of the country, and that generation is almost completely gone - along with the stories of those days. I wish I knew more about it, but there is just not much written available here. It is commonly said that when an old man dies here "a whole library dies with him". Being largely an oral/aural culture this, no doubt, is a true saying, and it is a sad loss. Heaven, I suppose, will be the more glorious, as the saints from across the ages, and from "every nation under heaven," gather to tell, with glorified animation and eloquence, the stories of God's intimate and mighty deeds done on behalf of His people, for the glory of His Name, during the days of their sojourning. I have no doubt that these stories will be worth the wait. But I'm also convinced that I will have to wait until then on the stories of the revival - unless someone does a TV documentary or some kind of special posting on YouTube.

It has become fascinating to me to listen to the laments of teachers and professors throughout the world who are complaining that "students just don't read anymore". Here, if a person can read, there is very little available. But it seems that in the "West," we have passed into what some have called a "post-literate" age. Students would rather listen to their iPod while they keep up with their friends on Facebook instead of reading a "Realbook".

New technology has a way of changing the way we think and even what is important to think about. I believe it was Marshall McLuhan, who first wrote about how the introduction of new technology always reshapes the structuring of our thinking. Once it is assimilated into everyday living it takes a life of its own and we never notice.

Take the clock for instance. When God created the world, He set the sun, moon, and stars in the sky to regulate the night and the day and the seasons of the year. Even after the flood, that sad "un-creation" account, He made sure to point out that He was going to make certain that there would be order and regularity in life on the earth through the predictability of days and seasons which would, no doubt, be governed by these luminous time-keepers. But they are not even noticed anymore, for in our world of seconds and minutes manufactured by this piece of technology called a clock, the sun and the seasons, these God ordained time-keepers become irrelevant. They no longer hold any value to us for regulating life. We prefer (or just don't know anything different) to mince our lives according to the dictates of the artificial, mechanical representation of time produced by this creation of ours.

As a tool the clock is a wonderful thing. But rarely do we understand the impact that our gadgets will have on how we see and know the world around us. That which is intended to serve us very often ends up ruling us. The clock made us into time-keepers, then time-savers, and now time-servers. The same holds true for the phonetic alphabet. To be able to see one's utterances rather than only hear them is no small thing. We have not merely traded the ear for the eye as the organ of the body that should have preeminence, we have restructured the way the mind works. This was driven home to me as I was being taught how to learn this language here. My teachers forbade me to use my eyes (I couldn't write anything down). I had to learn with my ears, by listening. Every bone in my body rebelled against this and all I could "think" about was how much I wanted to write down what I was hearing so I could see it, break it apart phonetically, then try to re-say it. But is this how a child first learns to speak? It is certainly now how an African, who usually knows two or more languages learns.

The priority of writing, of making visible one's utterances, is losing ground in our day of electronic media. This is what is so troubling to so many educators whose minds have been trained like mine to see rather than hear. Along with learning to see speech, much, much more has happened as a result of the invention of the phonetic alphabet. A whole way of thinking, and whole disciplines of thinking have developed.

You see (pun intended), writing freezes speech and in so doing gives birth to the grammarian and the historian. Written words can then be analyzed and studied long after they have been spoken - and learning can be done in isolation from other people. But sound is related to the present moment and situates us in community. As Richard Jensen indicates, where a "word is received by the listener, there is always community." There is something rather profound that happens when the spoken voice is heard by the listening ear, something that connects. For sound resonates from the interior of one person and penetrates the interior of another person. It enters our bodies. Something personal is shared between the listener and the one who speaks.

With the advent of print came the advent of individualism. Surrounded by books, Descartes could say, "I think therefore I am". But here in Uganda, it could be said, "We hear, therefore we are." The spoken word, therefore, implies/creates community (at least in theory - sin has a way of complicating everything!). Print produced the solitary scholar/scientist, but with the coming of electronic communication, specifically the internet, we are seeing the re-emergence of the priority of community. There are now all kinds of communities springing up as a result of the world-wide web - even scholarly communities.

Do you "see" what I am "saying"?!

Now, why have I rambled on and on like this? What is the purpose of my musings? With the flood of new electronic gadgets coming in from around the world (especially China), Africa and Africans will most likely bypass the mind structuring influence of the book (and it is more profound than you know). With the advent of the polysensory forms of communication provided by electronic communication (TV and internet) it will be increasingly difficult to get and keep people motivated to read books. That is why I said earlier that I may have to wait until heaven to learn about the east Africa revival - unless someone posts a short video on YouTube.

Notice the pictures. When we took the first picture above we were in the middle of Maasai land where there was no electricity, yet there was cell phone coverage! And the lady's house, in the second picture, was not much bigger than what you see in the photo. It had no chairs, she still cooked over charcoal, yet she had a T.V.! The invasion of the gadgets has arrived! - but how will they shape us? They obviously already demand attention! Just like in America, front and center of the living space is a TV. I have even been in remote villages where there was no electricity and found young men who gave me their email address!

Now listen to Marshall McLuhan (again, pun intended!). "An age in rapid transition is one which exists on the frontier between two cultures and between conflicting technologies. Every moment of its consciousness is an act of translation of each of these cultures into the other." This is probably more exaggerated in the West than here, for the technology of print has been the dominant form of communication and has held sway over the formation of the mind, and now the dominance has shifted to electronic media. But for us in east Africa, who have never really experienced the dominance of the print culture, this "rapid transition" is more of the extreme sight of seeing a Maasai warrior reaching under his cloth wrap and pulling out a ringing cell phone!

Short Calls

2008-10-22T10:09:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to transfer someone from the 18th century into the 21st century? It is not much of a stretch to say that it is probably very similar to what a rural Ugandan experiences who has never left the village. Recently I had the unique experience of taking a young man to Kampala to visit his brother who had never been to the city before. During the whole 4 hour trip he never stopped chattering about all that he was seeing for the first time in his life. He was like a 3 year old asking "what is that?", "what does that do?", etc. But once we reached the outskirts of Kampala, he became silent. The whole way into the city he never said a word. He was just "bug eyed" and silent.

Once we arrived at the place that seemed central to where we both were headed, I gave him instructions on how to find a boda boda (small, insane motorcycle taxi) and how to get to the hospital where his brother was staying. Needless to say he was overwhelmed with fear. I asked if he had any questions and when he finally opened his mouth to speak, the first thing he asked me was what he should do if he has to "go for short-call" (urinate).

I have no idea all that went through his mind as we traveled through this massive city, but of all the things that could happen to him, all the unknowns of how to get around in a city where they don't speak his language, all the questions he needed to ask about how to find a bus to take him back to his home in the village, the one thing on his mind was what to do if he has to "go for short-call". Far be it from me, a certified coffee addict, to minimize that question. But since I've been here, I've never known a Ugandan to wonder about the answer to that. It is forever a common sight to see a man standing on the side of the road with his back to you (or not) tending to that need. It is simply an altogether familiar sight. But somehow he figured out that they must not behave that way in the city and he needed to know what to do.

I decided that the best thing to do would be to take him into the mall where I had parked to let him relieve himself before he ventured off into this concrete wilderness of strange sights and sounds. Now you have to appreciate the fact that he comes from a place where there is no electricity and no plumbing. You travel a long way everyday just to get water. As we walked into the building he saw a large fountain near the entrance with a really nice spray of water. He was completely dazzled by the sight. As we passed through the building filled with shops and bright, blinking lights ... and so many white people, I could tell he was experiencing sensory overload. We finally reached the men's room. When I pointed to the door he started to walk through and as he looked in he just froze. He stood in the middle of the doorway and didn't move. He kept staring at the wall. Curious, I finally decided to go see what the strange sight was that held him spellbound in the doorway. As I approached the door opening I looked inside and saw that he was staring at a row of urinals attached to the wall. He turned to me in complete perplexity and with uneasiness in his eyes and asked, "Is that it? What do I do?" Having no ready response, I just decided to lead by example.

Eating termites

2008-10-22T05:39:00.000-07:00

This morning while visiting with the Principal of a local tertiary institution (something like a junior college in America), a lady who works in the building came running into the office where we were meeting, gleefully holding a sauce pan full of fried "ants" (actually termites). The next few seconds passed without words, but she and I very obviously exchanged messages with each other. Though meaning ... deep meaning ... was clearly, effectively, and immediately communicated, neither of us could plumb the depths of the source of each other's deeply held beliefs. She seemed to be as mystified at my spontaneous reflex of disgust as I was at her delighting in what cannot, in my mind, conceivably be classified as food. It was a fascinating moment.

I was reminded of the introduction of a book by Eviatar Zerubavel entitled, Social Mindscapes An Invitation to Congnitive Sociology, where he discusses the role society plays in shaping our thinking - even in such things as what is to be legitimately considered food. "Why do we eat sardines yet never goldfish, ducks yet never parrots? Why does adding cheese make a hamburger a "cheeseburger" whereas adding ketchup does not make it a "ketchupburger"? And why are Frenchmen less likely than Americans to find snails revolting?" To his list of questions I might sincerely add, "Why do Ugandans find such delight in eating grasshoppers and termites and yet cringe at the thought of eating crawfish?"

But this is the season for termites ... and the season for delectable delight for those Ugandans who enjoy them. The rains push them out of the ground by the millions - millions and millions. They fly around and, well, I'm not sure what they do after that because I'm shut up in the house trying to avoid them. All I know is that the next morning there are gazillions of individual wings floating across the ground in the breeze. Their light membrane shape reminds me of those seeds that twirl and float down out of the pine trees at home in Mississippi. I suppose at some point in this process people go about gathering them up and cooking them, but up till now it has escaped my notice.

An expat friend of mine told me that their three sons were persuaded one evening recently by their young Ugandan friends that these termites were the best things they will ever eat. In the early morning hours just after their induction into this new fraternity of insectivores, their young friends came knocking on the window to get them to join in "harvesting" the insects and frying them for breakfast. Each one of them, with the enthusiasm of a young Indiana Jones, ran into the yard and collected a bag full of these tasty morsels. Some time later, the youngest (4 or 5 years old) came busting through the door with tears streaming down his face. His mother worriedly asked him what was wrong and he bellowed out, "(sniff, sniff) I don't think I like terrr-miiites (boohoo)".

It's ok, Zak, I don't think I like them either.

God's way of communication

2008-10-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

God created all things by speaking. He could have said something other than what He said, but He didn't, and what He said was this world, and the systems that order it. So, in a very significant way creation is the language of the Creator. By virtue of being spoken into existence creation reveals knowledge about God just as words do (Psalm 19).

Christianity is not like other religions which minimize creation or matter and consider it inferior to the mind or spirit. God looked at all that He made and took pleasure in the sight. He enjoyed it not simply because it was beautiful to behold, but because it so perfectly expressed all that He wanted to say. He so delights in what He made that He is perfectly willing to liken Himself to a lamb or a lion or a nursing mother or a mother hen or even appeal to the predictability of the seasons and the sun and moon because all creation reflects His glory. But the greatest of His created masterpieces is mankind. For we are made uniquely in His image and likeness.

The words "image" and "likeness" suggest visibility. It seems then, that even our bodily appearance and shape in some way reflect God (not that God exists in material form, He is Spirit - John 4:24). All of creation points beyond itself to something true about God, but there is something about us that sets us apart from all other creatures as a visible representation that uniquely matches the invisible divine glory. This has to be so because John tells us that the Word of God who was both with God and was God became a man and dwelled among us and we beheld His glory. In fact, He so accurately explained to us God that He could say, "If you have seen Me you have seen the Father." All that God ever wanted to say about Himself He said in Jesus the Word made flesh.

Because the image of God is not something we possess, but rather something that we are, it is not something we can lose. Sin does not delete the image of God, it distorts it. But it really can shamefully distort it ... and I'm assuming that was all the deceiver wanted to accomplish. But Satan will not have the last word. That belongs to our speaking God and that Word became a man and He has regained all that was lost and distorted by our first parents. Human flesh is once again the privileged place of God's self-disclosure and has been enthroned once again as ruler over creation.

Effective communication is an art. The skillful use of creational language and imagery is what the Lord intended for our learning about Him. It must be so for Scripture is filled with creational images. The inspired prophets and poets have a great deal to teach us. Pure abstractions may communicate to some, but the rest of us need to hear the voice of creation through the poetic human voice describe our God and His ways among men. Our imaginations and emotions are rarely stimulated by "pure reason". But they are part of God's good creation and are to be as "intelligent" as our rational minds.

I witnessed something amazing that has helped me in understanding this. There is a poorly supplied medical clinic (redundant statement) nearby where an old lady appeared one day carrying a new born child wrapped in a filthy cloth. The child had been born with spina bifida and needed surgery. The grand-mother knowing that something was wrong brought the child to the clinic. They cleaned the wound and got the child to a hospital to have the needed surgery. Some time later the mother appeared with the child at the clinic again to allow them to set the legs in a cast so that the bones could begin to form in the right posture. It was incredibly painful to the infant to have its legs manipulated into a new position and "fixed" in a cast. It hurt me just to watch. They had no anesthetics to curb the pain and I'm not sure that they could have used any with the child being so young.

In order to calm the child, the young man who was forcing the legs into place and wrapping them in a cast had the mother to bend over the child and place her breast near her son's mouth. The moment the child understood that his mother was near he latched onto her breast and the crying ceased. It is inconceivable that the pain diminished, for he was prying on them like a man pulling a nail out of a piece of oak. But as long as his mother was near and her breast was pressing near his cheek there was comfort and security and the ability to submit to the painful "healing" manipulation of his limbs.

Life is tough. What God's people need most in the midst of the pain and confusion of what is dished out in a day is not merely theological abstractions precisely stated, but awareness of the Lord's comforting presence. Cool logic has its place, but when there are forces that have gripped our limbs, twisting them as though they are going to be pulled right off of our body, it is hard to keep your train of thought to work through a logical formula. But like that infant, we can endure great pain and confusion when we are comforted by the Lord's nearness.

"Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her; that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her bountiful bosom." For thus says the Lord: 'Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river, and the glory of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall nurse, you shall be carried upon her hip, and bounced upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. You shall see, and your heart shall rejoice; your bones shall flourish like the grass; and the hand of the Lord shall be known to His servants," (Is.66:10-14).

Sing for joy, O heavens and exult, O earth; break forth, O mountains, into singing! For the Lord has comforted His people and will have compassion on His afflicted. But Zion said, "The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me." Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands (Isaiah 49:13-16).

I pray for this child that he may grow up to run and play football (soccer) with his friends. I regret that he and his mother had to endure what they endured together. But I am thankful for what they taught me. In that moment God communicated to me something far more profound than anything I have ever read in Berkohf's Systematic Theology. In that moment human flesh interpreted by Scripture instructed me in the way our God comforts His people in their distress - and in that moment it was for me very "good news".

Psalm 23

2008-10-14T11:32:00.000-07:00

Life in America in the 21st century is very far removed from the culture of Israel and its surrounding neighbors during the times of the Bible. It would be difficult to appreciate much of the rich imagery in the Song of Solomon if you are an urban dweller in modern America. If all of your life you have bought your groceries from big grocery stores, it would be hard to imagine the plight of Ruth needing to glean in the fields of Boaz for survival. But here in rural east Africa the Scriptures come alive. This culture is not nearly as far removed from those of the Bible as American or European culture is. You have here sort of a living commentary. Details and imagery that you once just passed over because of their unfamiliarity now jump off the page.

Just yesterday I had a 25 year old widow come to the gate requesting assistance. She offered to "dig" (hoe in the garden). "I'm strong. I can carry firewood. I can dig. I can clean." Tears were in her eyes. She has a diploma and is trained as an accountant, but since the death of her husband, who was from India, she has virtually been reduced to a homeless beggar. She is an outcast from the Indian community because she is Ugandan, and she is not welcome home because her three children look Indian. Is that very much different from Ruth a widow from Moab wanting to glean in the fields of an Israelite?

This past Saturday I was at the University and was asked to teach on Psalm 23. As I was reading it and considering the structure of the text I was first struck by the use of two metaphors to describe Yahweh - faithful shepherd and gracious host. Then I was struck by how parallel the message emerging from each metaphor was with the other. They seemed to communicate the same thing each in its own way. What really caught my eye was the "new perspective" I have gained since being here on the "valley of the shadow of death". Having always heard this Psalm read at funerals, my imagination has been a bit biased toward some vague notion about walking toward your final days or something like that. Actually, I've never really done any exegesis on the passage before Saturday. Regretfully, it has always just been a quaint Psalm.

In the past I have always noticed that the Lord invites us to sit and peacefully dine with Him ... "in the presence of my enemies". This is an unnerving image, but I have noticed it simply because it corresponds with my experience. He always seems to spread the feast in situations that require me to have to trust Him that the present circumstances will not be my undoing. But this time I noticed that the Psalmist says exactly the same thing when he describes walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

You see, since we have been here we have had the privilege of hosting a number of short term teams. Since they have come all this distance it only makes sense for them to go on a short safari to see the famous animals of Africa. Having been on several now, we have discovered that if you want to find the big cats you have to go to the water because that is where they will be waiting to take their unsuspecting prey.

The imagery the Psalmist uses of lying down in green pastures and resting by still waters is striking since the climate in the wilderness areas where sheep graze in Israel is arid and ordinarily the sheep have to keep moving to find new patches of grass - which, from what I've observed here, doesn't take long for them to munch down to the dirt.

To be able to lie down and not have to keep moving, searching, grazing here, grazing there just to survive implies ample provision, abundance, as well as safety. They graze and lie down in the comfort that there will be more for later. Since water tends to flow down hill and grass in arid areas tends to prosper where there is water, it only makes sense that the shepherd will lead his flock to the abundant grazing down in the valley. But to get there they must pass through the canyon where the predators lurk waiting to make their kill. It is truly the valley of the shadow of death.

Though it doesn't look like it, He really does lead us on the right paths. In order to feast, just as in the image of the table spread in the presence of our enemies, we have to pass through that dark canyon. We have to ... if we want to enjoy the abundant provision of the good shepherd. But we have no need for fear. He is with us throughout the journey and He is committed and well prepared to protect us. We really are safe! "The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (John 10:11).

"My shepherd is Yhwh; I do not lack- He makes me lie down in lush pastures. He guides me by completely restful waters; He restores my strength. He leads me in right paths for His

name's sake. Even when I walk in the darkest canyon, I do not fear disaster, because You are

with me; Your rod and Your staff reassure me. You prepare a feast before me in plain sight of my enemies. You refresh my head with oil; my cup amply satisfies. Surely your goodness and faithfulness will chase me all my days, and I will live in Yhwh's house all of my life" Psalm 23.

"Love the sojourner..." Deut. 10:19

2008-10-12T10:10:00.000-07:00

According to a recent article in the New Vision, Uganda's national newspaper, a survey conducted by the US Committee for Refugees and Immigrants shows that by the end of 2007 the number of refugees reached over 14 million. Uganda is host to over 200,000 refugees, a number that is actually quite large for a country whose GDP per capita is around $900 (compare to $46,000 for the US). Most of these refugees are from Sudan (160,000), DRC (40,000), and Rwanda (20,000). But there are also a few thousand from Somalia and Burundi as well.

It is difficult to comprehend the plight of these refugees. The same article indicated that this woman pictured to the left, a mother of one month old twins, sleeps (with her two babies) outside of the Refugee Law Reform project offices. She braves the rain and the hot equatorial sun with her infants as she awaits recognition by the Government and the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees), a process which takes six months. Others like her, but who never venture into the city, collect in makeshift "camps" near the government camps which are set apart for legitimate refugees, for those who are "recognized" by the government and UNHCR.

I once visited one of these camps. It is branded into my memory. I simply can't imagine that someone could visit such a place and remain indifferent. Looking back in my journal, I found an entry where I was reflecting on that day.

"Carved out of a desolate section of the Ugandan hills is a portion of land designated for refugees. A number of densely populated camps are spread over several miles of this unsympathetic countryside. Actually, these among whom we had come were not in "reality" refugees, at least not yet; for they had not been officially recognized as "refugees" - so there is no UN funding available and no aid from the host country. Caught in the web of bureaucratic indifference, these people are suspended and left to dangle - and die. These are the poorest of the poor, a people with no status, no country, and, by any measurable standard, no food, sanitary water, or shelter."

"Standing before this gathered crowd, I realized I had no category for what my eyes were taking in. Seeing the disillusioned and discouraged expressions etched onto their faces, I was suddenly overwhelmed by their apparent longing to hear some word of hope, some acknowledgement that they were not also God forsaken, that He too was not also indifferent about their plight. Standing before them with my bottled water in my hand, I wondered to myself about what I am to say to a mother holding a baby in her arms that will almost certainly die or be severely damaged from starvation or be left as an orphan. I became very uncertain of what to tell them. I felt hollow inside."

"Heaven is never more silent than in times such as this - or so it seems. Looking into these faces I became acutely aware of the fact that, unlike the rest of the animal kingdom, man does not live by bread alone. The human spirit hungers for meaning to life. Even with their pinched bellies there was a yearning, an eagerness for a word from heaven to sort out and make sense of their plight. If I am to break the silence in the name of Christ, what am I to say? How do I speak of a God of justice and mercy in the face of such injustice and anguish? In what way is the Gospel good news to these poor (Luke 4:18; Mt.11:4-5)? It is with these questions that I will badger heaven, and it is with the memory of this scene vividly engraved in my imagination that I will listen, with hope, to the voice of the Holy Spirit in the text of Holy Scripture."

"Disoriented" is as close as I can get to the feeling that I had that day ... or maybe "sensory overload". It would not be a negative criticism to say that seminary did not prepare me for that situation because nothing can prepare you for it. The empty feeling I felt was not a loss of theological conviction nor confidence in the relevance and power of the gospel in that moment. It was simply the loss of all sense of place and time, of "which way was up". It was sort of like standing on the Mississippi Gulf Coast looking at the devastation the day after Katrina. You just can't sort it out so as to think clearly. Being an arm chair theologian is nice because you don't have to think on your feet in moments like that. Jesus moved among the poor and felt compassion for them and preached good news to them. May the Lord who, unlike the foxes and the birds of the air, had no place to lay His head, grant us wisdom and compassion to speak and tangibly express His concern for the poor of our generation.

"And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all His ways, to love Him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul, and to keep the commandments and statutes of the Lord ... For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God who is not partial and takes no bribe. He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing. Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt. You shall fear the Lord your God." Deuteronomy 10:12-13; 17-20.

Sunday rain

2008-10-12T00:55:00.000-07:00

The electricity has been off for a few days. We are in the middle of the rainy season where most afternoons we receive a nice 30 minute shower. When it does come down really hard, and when the drumming of the rain is accompanied by strong winds whistling, even yowling through the banana leaves and openings in the house, we can usually expect to lose the electricity. Such are the present conditions. It is now raining rather hard ... and the winds have started their melancholy tune ... yet again updating this blog may be delayed. At least it is not procrastination - this time!

It is Sunday morning and I'm sitting here with my swollen leg propped up on a pillow listening to the rain and praying for those pastors I meet with each week in my home. Every tuesday and thursday afternoon I meet with several pastors and teach them how to interpret the Bible and how to communicate the meaning of what they see in the text. They have come a long way and it is a joy to hear of the changes in their congregations. But today they will most likely preach to empty chairs and pews. The rain started early and has continued for hours.

**For those of you reading who live in the West, perhaps the pictures can help you visualize what many of the churches are like here. To sit in "church" is, in many cases, to sit in the elements. Beyond that, to get to church everyone has to walk in the elements.

In America, folks may travel many miles to worship. They have the privilege of "shopping" for a church that meets all their requirements of what they think a church should provide for them. They load up in their car and jet down the nice paved highway to their extravagantly furnished buildings and "designer" programs (this is not a criticism, it is a real comparison). Here, if a church, any kind of church, is not within a couple of miles people do not come. It is not that they are unwilling, but for many who are elderly or with several small children (all Ugandans have several small children!), they simply cannot come. But the opposite is also true - whatever is within a couple of miles, no matter what it is, the people will come.

Churches are very "local" here - and need to be! In fact, we need many, many more "local" churches to serve the people (a study was recently done in Kenya and it was determined that there is a need for 50,000 more "local" churches to better serve the existing population of Christians). This is a great need throughout east Africa. But even greater is the need for trained leaders for these churches - men who follow Christ and can lead others along the same path they are truly on, men who have come to know Christ as He is revealed in the gospel (2 Cor.3:16-4:6) which is contained in the Scriptures (Rom.1:1-2; 1 Cor.15:1-4), men who have learned to see what (and Who - Luke 24:27; 44-49) is in the text, insightfully interpret its meaning for today, and faithfully and clearly communicate it to the people they serve.

I'm reminded of what John Stott in his recent book "The Living Church" said regarding what we really need. In the Preface of the book, he says that the what we need is more "R.C." churches. By this he does not mean Roman Catholic, but rather "Radical Conservative". They are conservative in the sense that "they conserve what Scripture plainly requires", but they are radical in relation to "culture". I heartily agree, but in order to have churches that are truly "R.C." we need leaders who are "R.C." For as Jesus said, "When a disciple is fully taught, he will be like his teacher" (Luke 6:40). A congregation rarely rises above its leadership. I suppose that is why God, through the prophets, had such withering words to self-indulgent shepherds (Ez.34:1-10; Jer.23:1-4).

So, on this rainy Sunday morning, confined to a chair, I'm praying for my fellow pastors and the congregations they serve who are confined to their homes. May the Lord continue to build His church.

A word about the blog title

2008-10-03T08:27:00.000-07:00

Recently I was showing a few friends some of the pictures we have taken since we've been here and I was a bit surprised about how they kept commenting on the quality of the photography. Now, the ones taken by our daughter Mary really are amazing, and the quality of the photography can legitimately be attributed to her skill as an artist and a photographer. But the rest ... well, that is just one of the "blessed accidents" of the current state of technology which can produce a reasonably priced, good quality camera that is basically idiot proof.

Do you remember the those little "instamatic" cameras? You could just point and shoot. They were great when used to capture interesting moments with friends, but they never were able to capture what you really saw when standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon so as to reproduce the memory with the accompanying emotion. I was always disappointed when I finally got the pictures back from the photo lab.

My command of the English language is a great deal like those little cameras. I desire so much to be able to "capture" life here, to describe what we see and hear and feel so as to reproduce what it is really like. But I'm afraid that, as Flaubert indicated, my words will not achieve the desired end.

For my philosophically minded friends who may be concerned about some of my basic assumptions about reality because of my use of this quote (and those who have already voiced concern) .... all I can say is, "good grief, dude! Lighten up". Nevertheless, let me state that I believe in the commonsense notion that reality is objective in essence, and able to be meaningfully comprehended and communicated in language. "A cracked kettle" seemed like a novel title, not because it represented my philosophy about the nature of language, but because it seemed to capture the fact that I'm a Louisiana/Mississippi redneck, a carpenter ... not a Tolkien or Lewis. The "cracked kettle" refers to this blog and my limitations in the artful use of language to accomplish all that I desire, not the limitations of language to meaningfully describe what is real. I'm convinced that you will get the picture as I present things, but most likely it will be like those "instamatic" photos that never quite captured the majesty of the moment.

Our aim with this blog

2008-10-01T02:12:00.000-07:00

I'm assuming that a blog is sort of like a journal. No major agenda ... just what comes to mind. That is certainly the format here. Though I've never been very successful with journaling, like most bloggers who are just starting out, I have good intentions. We'll see. My hope though, is to enable you to experience, in some measure, the sights and sounds, the thoughts and ways of this fascinating land and its people.

Sitting in front of a computer is intimidating to me. I'm far more Teutonic than "techie". But by God's grace I'm going to persevere, because it is all so worth describing.

"Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them. Full of splendor and majesty is His work, and His righteousness endures forever." Psalm 111:2-3

"Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised, and His greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate. They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness and shall sing aloud of your righteousness. The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The LORD is good to all, and His mercy is over all that He has made." Psalm 145:3-9