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Hello everyone!
Thank you so much for all of your
emails! I have wanted to reply to each one, but the internet connection
is very wobbly here and it often just shuts down on me! Hope you're all
ok and not too blown about by the winds i keep hearing about. Just to
let you know, it's beautiful and sunny here... ;-)
Well, where do I start...? Firstly,
you may have been under the impression that I was going to start
lecturing this coming week. So was I. Until last Monday that is, when I
was told lectures started that day! So, I have been busy lecturing on
Jesus and the Gospels, and the Pastoral Epistles - and I've really
enjoyed every minute! My students are very polite and attentive, and
they ask lots of questions and are keen to interact in our classes.
There have been some funny moments too, like when George started to read
from 1 Thessalonians instead of 1 Timothy (at least one of my students
noticed!). I give all credit to these students - most of them have not
had a good education, yet they give their all to learn challenging stuff
in their second language. And I'm realising that these students have
made huge sacrifices to come here to train to be priests: most are
married, but because the seminary hasn't got married accommodation, they
have to leave their families behind often miles away. Some have also
left behind relatively good jobs. One was an electrician, and he would
have earned in a day what he will earn as a priest in possibly a week,
but more likely in a month. Then there is the worry of being able to
support their families while they are training. One has been told that
his wife and children will be evicted from their home in Lusaka if they
can't afford the increase in rent - and they can't. Poverty meets you at
every corner, and is part of everyday life.
When I was in Tanzania, a little boy
said to me, 'When I grow up I want to be white, because white people are
better than black people, and Jesus was white.' I was therefore keen to
see whether Jesus would be black or white here. For if Jesus is white
and therefore almost untouchable, how can they start to believe that
Jesus touches them and walks with them in the townships? Well, there are
some paintings in the chapel here - and Jesus is black! Hoorah! The
incarnation has happened in a very real way, and Jesus is Zambian too.
However, today, I went into one of the townships here (slum town) called
Chimwemwe, and was invited into a Catholic home - where plastered all
over the walls were huge pictures of a white Jesus, blond-haired and
blue eyed! Although, knowing that at least ten Jesuses were staring down
at me, I didn't dare do any judging or cultural theologising...!
So, Chimwemwe is about 15mins walk
from here, although I took a minibus with a Zambian friend I have made
on the Campus (Rachael). Rachael works in this township as a social
worker, visiting the orphans (due to HIV) who are looked after by the
guardians. That is another thing that you meet face to face - the
devastation of Aids and HIV. I have a beautiful cleaner called Loveness
- her husband died of HIV and you can only guess what is going through
her mind, and the minds of her two daughters. Anyway, as I walked
through the township, I suddenly realised what it must feel like for the
refugees in England, or anyone with a skin colour other than white - for
I felt a bit like a walking exhibition and attraction! I felt perfectly
safe, but also vulnerable and quite isolated - not knowing what they
were saying or thinking, and almost wanting to apologise that I was
white! It is interesting that the ladies often buy a powder or cream to
apply to their faces to lighten their skin - whilst we buy powder to
darken our skin!
But I am learning that despite all of
the heartache and sorrow that hits so many lives here, there is in the
midst of it all an oasis of grace and hope. Grace seems to abound all
the more in the dark places and in the silent suffering, and hope, well,
hope is what wakes you up in the morning and gives you dreams and
visions to live another day. Hope is what makes you smile and love
people and love life, even when life seems to deal you the short straw.
It is grace and hope that makes a person rich here, not money or cars or
food. I dream of the day when Africa appears on world news, not for its
famines or wars or HIV, but for its abundant grace and hope, grace and
hope that pierce all darkness like lightning through the sky.
I have much more I could tell you,
but I should probably leave it there - except to say that my friendly
geckoes (Thumbelina, Betty and Lawrence) pass on their greetings, as
does the local crocodile in the lake on the campus (there's a sign
saying 'Fishing prohibited. Beware of crocodile'. No fishing for me
then...!).
With much love, laughter, and prayer,
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