When we were driving through Burundi, I was reading a book called "For What It's Worth: A Call to No Holds Barred Discipleship" by Simon Guillebaud. I've been re-reading this book since I got back here, and remembering the challenge that I got from reading it. It was an exciting time, driving through this amazing country on a bit of a crazy adventure, and just being challenged to radical living... Following is the most challenging story I read in it... Be warned that you might not see things in the same way after reading it...
On 4th July 1984, Charlie Peace was hanged. He was one of London's best-known criminals. As Peace was being led to the gallows, and Anglican clergyman followed him timidly, reading from the Prayer Book, "Those who die without Christ experience hell, which is the pain of forever dying without the release which death in itself can bring."
When Peace heard those horrific words, he turned around sharply and shouted in the clergyman's face. "Do you believe that? Do you really believe that?"
His surprised victim stuttered and stammered, "Well...I....suppose i do...."
"Well, I don't," said Peace, "but if i did, I'd get down on my hands and knees and and crawl all over Britain, even if it were paved with pieces of broken glass, if I could rescue just one person from what you just told me."
Challenged??
I know I am...
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
Friday, 20 June 2008
It's been a while...
Hi there,
Been a while since I posted anything on here! Below is an article i wrote for my churches magazine. Thought I'd share it on here too...
Happy reading!
tom
(p.s. I haven't forgotten my promise of photos...)
Where do I start to capture in just a few words the time I spent in
Rwanda and Burundi as part of a team of 8 people with "Youth With a
Mission"? Were I to share everything that happened and that we
experienced, it would take a much sturdier staple in this issue of the
Link to bind it together. So, here I sit, searching through my mind to
think of one story that will encapsulate our time, one story to show
the beauty of the countries and cultures that we had the privilege of
catching a glimpse of for a short period of time. One story. Is that
even possible?
Our time in Africa was a busy one, we travelled a lot, meeting many
incredible contacts along the way. At one stage we taught about the
issues of Reconciliation and Forgiveness, challenging 70 pastors
during a week-long conference to think about these issues and take
them back to their congregations and areas. The decision they made at
the end of the week to work together as churches to promote this
principle was an incredibly moving one. Is this the story I want to
share with you?
Or, how about the time we visited an elderly woman in an "Internally
Displaced Peoples" camp; seeing the place that she lived, barely more
than mud bricks and sticks for a roof, and not a scrap of food in the
bare room described to us as the kitchen? The warning to be careful
not to let other people see the £10 gift we gave to her, because, if
people knew, she would be killed for this meagre amount by nightfall?
Do I tell you about the incredible, unexpected joy that I saw in her
eyes? The strength of her spirit and the open arms of welcome we
received from her?
Do I share the laughter breaking in the face of an abandoned HIV
positive baby, now receiving the care and love he deserves at the
hands of an adoptive mother; or the sorrow and desperation in the eyes
of a woman walking alongside our bus, pleading, with arms outstretched
for money to feed her starving children? Do I tell you about God's
incredible provision seen at an orphanage growing in numbers and
facilities; or our confusion at God's apparent 'neglect' of a group of
Congolese refugees, who, having managed to escape across the Lake into
Burundi, weren't allowed further, having merely been existing on a
small patch of grass for 4 months and counting. The love of a group of
young orphans who we had loved, played and laughed with for a week
laying their hands on us and praying for our safety as we continued on
our journey; or the hatred we saw as a remaining rebel group shelled
the city of Bujumbura, killing innocent people and continuing a cycle
of violence that has existed for many years. The pure delight as we
played parachute games with a large group of children, or the immense
grief as we stood and prayed with one of our hosts on the plot of land
where she grew up, and on this spot 15 years ago, 32 members of her
close family were brutally murdered in the Burundian genocide.
So many stories, and so few words to tell them.
In Rwanda and Burundi, there is a lot of need, and a lot of hurt. It's
easy to be overwhelmed by some of these stories, to get caught up in
the horror and the deprivation, to convince yourself that this is what
characterizes a nation.
The most difficult part is to see past these things and to see the
good that is happening; that right in the midst of all these horrific
things is a God who hates them more than we know and is hurt by what
he sees more than we could fathom. This same God is on the move in
these situations and in these places, and for every terrible story we
heard, was a contrary story of beauty and God's intervention.
This is the image of Rwanda and Burundi that I will hold in my mind;
one of hope. A place where people are aware of their difficulties, but
are willing, and able, to see beyond it. To see with God's eyes the
situations unfolding around them and not their own.
To stand with the woman whose 32 relatives were killed and hear
nothing but love for the country and its people in her voice is an
incredible thing. It's something that I know for a fact can only come
from God; a God whose desire for forgiveness and love is far beyond
our own, calling us up from out of the depths of our own despair to
try and emulate and maintain His image.
So, what can I tell you? I honestly did intend when I sat down to
write this account to share only one story, planning to share more at
a coming date; but I now find myself sitting here having given away
most of them! Although a few pages can't encapsulate an experience, I
hope this has given you a flavour of our time.
Without a doubt we met with the power and movement of God, and were
privileged to see and experience both those we met and ourselves
changing as a result.
Been a while since I posted anything on here! Below is an article i wrote for my churches magazine. Thought I'd share it on here too...
Happy reading!
tom
(p.s. I haven't forgotten my promise of photos...)
Where do I start to capture in just a few words the time I spent in
Rwanda and Burundi as part of a team of 8 people with "Youth With a
Mission"? Were I to share everything that happened and that we
experienced, it would take a much sturdier staple in this issue of the
Link to bind it together. So, here I sit, searching through my mind to
think of one story that will encapsulate our time, one story to show
the beauty of the countries and cultures that we had the privilege of
catching a glimpse of for a short period of time. One story. Is that
even possible?
Our time in Africa was a busy one, we travelled a lot, meeting many
incredible contacts along the way. At one stage we taught about the
issues of Reconciliation and Forgiveness, challenging 70 pastors
during a week-long conference to think about these issues and take
them back to their congregations and areas. The decision they made at
the end of the week to work together as churches to promote this
principle was an incredibly moving one. Is this the story I want to
share with you?
Or, how about the time we visited an elderly woman in an "Internally
Displaced Peoples" camp; seeing the place that she lived, barely more
than mud bricks and sticks for a roof, and not a scrap of food in the
bare room described to us as the kitchen? The warning to be careful
not to let other people see the £10 gift we gave to her, because, if
people knew, she would be killed for this meagre amount by nightfall?
Do I tell you about the incredible, unexpected joy that I saw in her
eyes? The strength of her spirit and the open arms of welcome we
received from her?
Do I share the laughter breaking in the face of an abandoned HIV
positive baby, now receiving the care and love he deserves at the
hands of an adoptive mother; or the sorrow and desperation in the eyes
of a woman walking alongside our bus, pleading, with arms outstretched
for money to feed her starving children? Do I tell you about God's
incredible provision seen at an orphanage growing in numbers and
facilities; or our confusion at God's apparent 'neglect' of a group of
Congolese refugees, who, having managed to escape across the Lake into
Burundi, weren't allowed further, having merely been existing on a
small patch of grass for 4 months and counting. The love of a group of
young orphans who we had loved, played and laughed with for a week
laying their hands on us and praying for our safety as we continued on
our journey; or the hatred we saw as a remaining rebel group shelled
the city of Bujumbura, killing innocent people and continuing a cycle
of violence that has existed for many years. The pure delight as we
played parachute games with a large group of children, or the immense
grief as we stood and prayed with one of our hosts on the plot of land
where she grew up, and on this spot 15 years ago, 32 members of her
close family were brutally murdered in the Burundian genocide.
So many stories, and so few words to tell them.
In Rwanda and Burundi, there is a lot of need, and a lot of hurt. It's
easy to be overwhelmed by some of these stories, to get caught up in
the horror and the deprivation, to convince yourself that this is what
characterizes a nation.
The most difficult part is to see past these things and to see the
good that is happening; that right in the midst of all these horrific
things is a God who hates them more than we know and is hurt by what
he sees more than we could fathom. This same God is on the move in
these situations and in these places, and for every terrible story we
heard, was a contrary story of beauty and God's intervention.
This is the image of Rwanda and Burundi that I will hold in my mind;
one of hope. A place where people are aware of their difficulties, but
are willing, and able, to see beyond it. To see with God's eyes the
situations unfolding around them and not their own.
To stand with the woman whose 32 relatives were killed and hear
nothing but love for the country and its people in her voice is an
incredible thing. It's something that I know for a fact can only come
from God; a God whose desire for forgiveness and love is far beyond
our own, calling us up from out of the depths of our own despair to
try and emulate and maintain His image.
So, what can I tell you? I honestly did intend when I sat down to
write this account to share only one story, planning to share more at
a coming date; but I now find myself sitting here having given away
most of them! Although a few pages can't encapsulate an experience, I
hope this has given you a flavour of our time.
Without a doubt we met with the power and movement of God, and were
privileged to see and experience both those we met and ourselves
changing as a result.
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