Weekly Sermon 10/19/14

Checking Your Portfolio from Geneva Presbyterian Church on Vimeo.

Leaving day

Kenyan Sunset

Soon, very soon, the vans will arrive

to ferry us to the waiting plane,

poised to wing us home.

So I pack my suitcase, tucking mementos into clothes

and laying them alongside shoes and belts

before zipping it shut.

It's time to go home. And so my heart,

on tiptoes, begins to look west,

anticipating joyous reunion with the Dear Ones

to whom I'm joined.

It's time to return to my village, my people, the Ones

to whom I'm joined.

Whom I carried within while I've

pilgrimed through Kenyan land.

And yet, I depart with stowaways, who hide in a newly

vacated space within my heart.

They've migrated to that place which opened up

when some part of me-my heart, my soul?-

Declared itself Kenyan and chose to declare fidelity

to the sisters and brothers in Christ.

A holy exchange has happened.

I go, yet I stay.

They stay, yet they travel now to my other home.

In Christ!

Bryan

The Migration

During safari we saw countless animals; giraffes, elephants, lions, gazelles, zebras, and wildebeest to name a few.  The view was amazing.  The zoo really doesn’t provide an adequate opportunity to understand the beauty and grace of these fine animals.  Observing a savanna filled with these creatures, God’s handiwork is awe inspiring.

Now, try to imagine these creatures blending into their surroundings, the Maasi Mara.  Go on, try.  I’ll bet you never imagined a giraffe being mistaken for an old dead tree or zebras looking like rocks on a hillside especially when travelling with wildebeest.  God crafted every detail for a specific purpose and the results are breathtaking.

Today, the wildebeest covered the savannah as far as the eye could see.  Yet, when it was their turn to move they travelled in a straight line.  There was a clear lead wildebeest that walked in front of the herd and led the group.  There were a couple running alongside
the herd seeming to keep the group orderly.  Finally, there was one wildebeest pulling up the rear; it was managing the herd ahead while instructing those yet to make the crossing.  It was an incredible sight to witness. 

It occurred to me that when the herd sets out on their journey, the circle of life never factored in the ritual.  Though, while in route, they would welcome new life into the herd.  All would grow older, some with every step.  And, they would mourn the loss of beloved members.  The whole herd will not make the trek as some will stray too far from the herd, others will choose different paths along the way, and others will meet their death naturally or otherwise.  Nonetheless, their trek continues.

While watching the migration, I began to wonder if this was akin to the pilgrimage Moses led to the Promise Land.  Different congregations of families travelling together across miles and miles of open land exposed to all sorts of dangers.  They welcomed new life.  Some strayed from the group and were lost.  Others mourned the loss of their loved ones they lost along the way.  Yet, their journey continued.  The land of milk, honey, and promise lay ahead. 

As we navigate our daily lives, may the promise continue to be our guide.

Choosing to Care

This is my second trip to Kenya.  Last year I tagged along with a group from FPC Norfolk and this year I returned with a team from my own church.  And what I've noticed is that the first time I was here, I got exposed to so many different people, programs, and customs that I felt like a giant sponge simply trying to absorb all that was going on.  Returning for a second go around has allowed me to deepen relationships with folks who faithfully minister here in Kenya day in and day out--folks like Ruth, the administrator of Joy Village; Vinton and Linet, pastoral counselors at Nazareth Hospital; George, the principal at the Allamano School; and Michael, the director of the Holy Family Clinic.  Just as significantly, this second visit allowed me to open my heart more deeply to the children at Joy Village.

Last year, when I departed Joy Village after our two day visit, I left being very inspired and impressed by the loving care that is provided by Ruth and the house moms who have committed their lives to raising the orphaned children who live there.  This year, when our visit ended, I was even more inspired and impressed by the love and care provided there.  However, something else happened as well.  I found that my heart got indelibly imprinted with the names and faces of these children who have not only been orphaned, but have also been sexually abused and/or infected with HIV. 


That imprinting, I discovered, didn't happen on its own.  I realized when I arrived at the Village that I could be there without really opening my heart to the pain and tragedy that these children have lived through.  I could have shown up, played some games, made some crafts, and then departed having interacted with them, but without my heart being broken.  I could have been there with my heart being surrounded by self-protective measures.  And so I made a decision to be FULLY present, to open my heart, to risk feeling deep pain and sorrow.  I decided not to protect myself but to trust that if opened my heart to them, God could be entrusted with caring for my broken heart.  

And so I prepare to depart Kenya again with a heart that has been broken open more deeply.  And for that I am profoundly grateful.  Because I know that God is at work seeking to make me a more compassionate and committed follower of Jesus.  I leave Kenya not only more determined to do what I can to support the work of Tree of Lives and make a difference somehow in the lives of Naomi, David, Martin, and all the other Joy Village residents, but to allow God to transform me so that I might be a wiser and more compassionate presence with all who suffer.  For that, I am realizing, is at the heart of the gospel.  What an unspeakable blessing it is to share in the sufferings of Christ, that we might also share in his resurrection power.

Bryan Smith  

  

Keith McBain

The Simple Things in Life

Last week was a long week for the children in the Allamano School.  They had midterm exams all week.  Exams were completed Friday morning.  This particular Friday afternoon like every Friday afternoon from 1:00 p.m. – 3:00 p.m., is gym.  65 children, ages 5 – 12, are outside playing.

Armed with just a few items and a lot of love, the 6 of us headed to the school to join the kids.  Make no mistake; we were a bit nervous walking over there.  Did we have enough “stuff” for the children?  Was it the right “stuff?”  And, how would they receive us?  Intellectually, we know it isn’t about us or the stuff we bring; we know God has prepared the way for us.  We also know we are bringing the “right” stuff as we are sharing God’s love, but in that moment….

When we walked into the school yard, the kids gathered to see who these strangers were.  We introduced ourselves and listened as they repeated our names and then giggled.  George, the school principal, announced we were joining them for their afternoon activities.  We brought out balls and many of the kids gravitated toward them.  Several kids grabbed them and headed off to the outer reaches of the school yard.  Soon games of football (soccer), volleyball, and whatever games their imagination could dream broke out everywhere. 

When the bottles of bubbles were opened, kids swarmed like bees to those who had had them.  Providing opportunity for all who wanted to participate, we asked the kids to line up and take turns blowing on the wand.  As bubbles floated in the air, kids would run after them and then hurry to get back in line. 

Slowly, we introduced more activities.  The kids split off to engage in the different activity areas; chalk art, paper airplanes, balloon rockets, and jump rope.  Then it happened.  The music started.  I’m sure you’ve heard the song.  It starts with a squeal, moves into a guttural grunt, and ends with round of harmonious laughter.   This was followed by smiles that could light the night sky.  These are the sounds and the sights that can warm the coldest heart. 

The afternoon began to draw to a close.  A group of girls gathered around me on the lawn.  I asked them to teach me the song they sang while jumping rope.  They patiently fed me the words and giggled as I mispronounced them.  We sang the song over and over until I got it.  George joined us to translate.   The song was the story of a women going off to marry.  While it may be many years before these girls ever think of marrying, I pray they will remember that afternoon, the carefree hours we spent playing in the sun, the wonderful song that played in the background, and just how good the simple things in life can be.

It has been several days since we spent the afternoon in the school yard.  Looking back, it occurs to me that many people before us have ventured out on pilgrimages in search of and to share God’s love.  For most of us, it isn’t about what we have and/or what we do; it is more about being present in the moment.  And, it’s about being comfortable planting the mustard seeds, tending the soil, and having faith that others will see the love God has for us will continue to grow.

Time to Wake Up?

We went over the weekend to Joy Village to visit with the children and their Momma's.  We arrived with bags full of activities and gifts and dreams of playing and cuddling with the children.  And of course, all of that happened.  Our many treasures were a huge hit with the children and we found ourselves making friends quickly.  The warm feeling that comes from doing things for others was flowing in abundance.

We were guests of individual families and given beds to sleep in, good food, and pans of hot water for bathing.  As I sunk into the life of Momma Peninah’s family of nine children, I had an opportunity to observe how she did her job, which is a 24 hour endeavor.  She cooked numerous nutritious meals from scratch, cleaned, helped with homework, administered medications, supervised the children’s chores, led them in prayer and song, and even took time to make an awkward guest feel welcome and at home. I will always remember her checking to see if each child had a clean handkerchief before they went off to Sunday School.  “Ah,”  she said, “now is the time for myself for an hour.”

Peninah and I also had time to talk without children present for a while.  “This is my calling, not just a job.”  She related to me that she had tried many careers: selling second-hand clothes was one of many.  None of them had worked out for her. “I was always a failure!”  She said she had a dream of taking care of children even though her children were grown.  She had talked to her pastor about this and he talked to her about following a calling to do what she was meant to do.  When I watched Peninah pouring out her love for those children and changing their lives with every minute of the day, I knew that I was watching someone following their calling.

We went off to church together which is an adventure to describe another day.  However, during a long and spirited sermon the pastor said something that intrigued me.  “You should go to a place where you will wake up” (He had been busy holding up the sleeping disciples in Gethsemane as a bad example.)  I had traveled a very great distance to be there and I had experienced so much for the past week but there now seemed to be a huge question.  Was I awake?  Was I just having an amazing journey leaving me with many stories to tell or was I alert to what God was telling me?  I suppose it’s the sort of thing that time will answer one way or another whether I work at it or not.  What I do know for sure is that when Peninah ventured toward where God was, she quite definitely was awake




.Dawn

JUST ONE TOUCH

As we walked to the Allamano school today, we had an addition to our team.  His name is Jim and he’s 4 years old. We met Jim a few nights ago when he came to our porch.  If there are people at the guesthouse, the children who live in the Nazareth compound come to the porch of the guesthouse to color, do puzzles, and play games. Jim comes as soon as he’s able and stays until it’s almost dark. A rule we operate by is all are home before dark, even the adults.  We said good night to Jim a couple of nights only to discover he was still on the porch without much light left.  So Nicole escorted him to the end of the road and pointed Jim toward home with another goodbye.

So as we left for a fun-filled afternoon with the kids at Allamano, it was no surprise to find him on the porch. He grabbed Yvette’s hand and off we went. I was talking and walking alongside Jim when he grabbed my hand.  Just one touch, Jim’s touch, but also God’s touch.  God used Jim’s touch to lift my spirits and mine to lift his.  This touch was special because I’ve been operating with compassion fatigue, something I wasn’t cognizant of, for a while.  In his book, “A Mile in My Shoes,” author Trevor Hudson says compassion fatigue can arise when we “care overmuch”, neglect self care because it appears selfish, and focus too much on pleasing others.  Through Jim’s grabbing of my hand, God renewed my heart and allowed me to be available to others again in a caring way.

I’ve discovered by God’s grace that while I want to be a blessing to others while here in Kenya, God is also using his children in Kenya to bless me. 

Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. – Luke 18:16

A Child is Born

Briskly driving through rolling hills, on county roads that find themselves reduced to two tracks, we spotted the client’s homestead with no road to enter.     Our community health worker, Winnie, and the social worker, Maureen, hopped out of the car and started walking across the rolling hills.  We quickly followed.  A woman came out to proudly greet us and welcomed us in to the large area that surrounded three dwellings.

These unpainted, wood slat houses were the size of a modest travel trailer, maybe 7 by 10 feet. Their entrances were covered by blankets; there were no windows.  This was surprising as we had been told that the Masai usually had larger and more decorative homesteads than those of other Kenya tribes.  This homestead was very modest.

There were only women home.  We saw the great grandmother in beautiful, traditional Masai dress, watching closely.  A young woman and three children stood by the homes.    The grandmother could hardly contain her excitement as she led the two health care workers to the smallest home and shut the door to visit.

Inside was a mother with her four day old baby.  Both parents were HIV positive.  They could not tell his family or she would be removed from the household. The couple used their prescriptions as directed and, when she became pregnant, she followed those too.  The baby was born HIV negative.

With the exam complete, the curtain was opened and the grandmother proudly invited each of us in to hold her four day old grandson.  The baby was so very tiny and perfect.  Such a blessing.  The extended family will never know the blessing that God has brought them through the Tree of Lives, which helps provide HIV medication for those unable to afford it .   

–Beth McBain

Hands and Feet

In my few days here in Kenya, as I’ve been walking alongside the Tree of Lives staff,  I’ve  witnessed the “hands and feet” of Christ in action.  From our group conversation with Michael, Director of Holy Family Clinic, I saw his pride and joy of sharing that a large percentage of HIV+ mothers delivered HIV- babies.  This pride and passion continues with Mary and Eric, Social Workers, who go daily to visit clients in their villages.  I was privileged to walk along with both on a day’s visits.  They go to build relationships, monitor adherence to a strict time table for the medicine’s needed to combat HIV and gently prod them along if needed.  Some clients are succeeding and living a healthy life while others are struggling.   During one visit a client asked if we could provide funds for surgery. I knew this was to be a pilgrimage of pain and hope and I left with a broken heart. She did accept our gift of prayer.  The next visit was one of hope, a mother who is healthy and a son who deeply loves her.  He said he now loves his mom because he knows God and because of this knowledge he wants to be a minister.

Posted on the door of Mary Ann’s office, who is the Leader of the Prevention of Mother-to-Child Transmission Program, is this vision statement:  a world in which babies are not infected with HIV/AIDS and where mothers with HIV/AIDS live long and healthy lives, caring for their families and having hope for the future. She is passionate in bringing vision to mothers because she is a healthy mother caring for a 5 year old son.  Her love bounces off the walls!

As I began rounds with Linet, Pastoral Care Counselor at Nazareth Hospital, we entered the TB ward .  My mind was racing and I was thinking “I don’t really want to be in here (we later learned that they were on meds and not contagious).  Then a nudge to my brain said, “you are being prayed for by a multitude of people, don’t worry.”  Linet has an enormous and compassionate heart that empowers her loving hands.  She brings comfort, counsel and listening ears to those who need it.  We visited with Margaret, who will be going to hospice.  We listened as she shared about her family, her business, and prayed with her.  We were deeply touched when she prayed for us.  She was grateful for our visit and warmly sent us off with a God Bless You!  Pain and Hope rolled into one person.

Vinton, Pastoral Care Counselor, also a person with a compassionate and enormous heart, spent the evening sharing with us about Kenya and its people.  We learned about the tribes, customs and other interesting facts about his country.

Each morning I’ve been greeted by small talk and laughter from Beatrice and Lucy. These two friends work side-by-side to make our time here more meaningful. Their hands keep our sanctuary organized, cleaned and stocked with food. What a joy it is to have their laughter in this place.

Ruth, Director of Joy Village, oozes love for the children under her care.  My sense is that she would have every sick and hurting child in this world at Joy Village if space and money weren’t factors. She is continually seeking ways to bring healing, hope and joy to these children.

  .

“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world.  Yours are the feet with which he walks on earth to do good. Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.”   -Teresa of Avila

I know this to be true here in this place called Kenya.

Massi Community Road Trip

I had the amazing privilege to visit the Maasi community with social workers from the Holy Family Center.  The social workers go out into the towns and villages to visit clients in their homes.  The clients who receive these home visits have shown some difficulty in complying with the treatment regimen given to those with HIV. 

Getting to the Maasi community was quite a hike, taking two hours in a Toyota Land Cruiser.  Eric, the social worker from Holy Family, had been making visits to this community for about eight months.  He explained that the incidence of HIV is on the increase amongst the Maasi due to a number of reasons, including lack of understanding about the disease, a reluctance to receive HIV testing, and the insular nature of the community.  Unfortunately, even when someone has received a positive drug test and begins treatment, the rate of noncompliance also is high.  And so Eric’s job this day was to try and encourage the patients to take their pills as prescribed, reminding them of their good prognosis if they do.

The first patient we saw was a widow in her 30s. Her husband had died a year before of diseases related to AIDS.  She had a young son and a teenage daughter.  And it was clear during the interview that she hadn’t followed through on her previous promise to take her pills faithfully.  She even told Eric she couldn’t locate her treatment card, upon which she was supposed to be recording her daily drug taking ritual.  After the visit, Eric remarked that the Holy Family Clinic is hoping to find someone in the Massi, preferably a male, since it is a very male-dominated society, who will be open about their HIV status and encourage others to get tested and treated.  Eric noted that another Maasi would have much greater success in helping other Maasis do what is necessary to combat the realities of HIV.

In reflecting on my experience, I was deeply touched and impressed by the commitment of the social workers at the Holy Family Center who go out into these homes several days each week, trying to do what they can to help save lives.  The social workers clearly are committed to their work and deeply care for their clients.  I am so glad that Tree of Lives makes the work of the Holy Family Clinic possible through its ongoing support.

At another level, Eric’s example and comments got me thinking about how God has responded to the deadly condition we all share, no matter where we live or how much we have.  In the Old Testament, we find God setting before His people the ways of life and death.  “If you honor me and keep my commands, you shall live a blessed life; but if you turn away from me, death rather than life shall be the result.”  And yet, despite God’s repeated attempts through the law and the prophets to impress upon us the importance of maintaining faith and obedience, we habitually were noncompliant to what the Lord commanded us to do.  We did not do what would lead to life, but followed the ways of death instead.

And so God did in a grand and universal way what Eric hopes might happen medically in the Maasi community—God came to advocate for us as one of us.  In Christ, we see God no longer sending messengers; He himself came to us in human form, offering us something even more important than medical intervention for an incurable disease.  He came that we might come alive in the fullest possible way as we become eternal sons and daughters of God.

In Christ!
Bryan