Braai

A couple of people have asked me questions about the weekly braai here at Pangani. And I'm finally answering! The braai is the current form of NC's "regular God-centered inclusive-of-others ministry together." In other words, it's what we do together on a regular basis to intentionally invite others outside of NC to come along and experience & know God better.













Braai means barbecue in Afrikaans--and that's pretty much what we do. At about 3:30pm, people start arriving, and we fire up the braai. Each of the NC-ers brings a side dish to share, and there's also the amazing freshly baked braai bread. Mmmm. When the coals are ready, we braai the meat (everyone brings their own). Afrikaners really like meat. Lots of meat. We embrace this aspect of the culture here:


















As we braai and eat, there's a lot of time to hang out with each other as well as get to know the guests that have come for the week. We usually have a pretty eclectic crowd, with a random mix of Americans, white South Africans from Pretoria North, poor blacks from the townships, international students from the universities nearby, and the list goes on! Here is a (not-so-eclectic picture) of the hanging out time.












After the meal, we gather for a time of connecting with God. Our "God time" looks different each week. Last week, Luc led us as we each shared a song that helps us especially to connect with ourselves and with God. Last night, Daleen led a "lectio divina" (or spiritual reading) on Psalm 46. This part of the evening is designed to provide a way for each person to connect with God regardless of where they are spiritually--believing, seeking, or maybe even just here for the food. =) After the God time, we finish off the evening with coffee & tea, and usually dessert as well. And there you have our braai!

Right now, we're taking a closer look at the braai and how it works as our "regular God-centered inclusive-of-others ministry together." We may be changing things up a bit as the year goes on. Please be in prayer for us as we seek how best to do this ministry together and invite others into what God is doing in our midst.

Prayer...and another blog

I feel like I've very much settled into a pattern here. Our weeks consist of worship and prayer and some meals shared together, learning through book and Bible discussions and training conversations, and of course there are personal errands and chores around the house. We're each exploring different areas of ministry, and spending time hanging out as a team. I know this pattern will change as we move into the rest of the year and get involved in ministry. But right now, it's nice to have a sense of home and community, and know that will form a foundation for the rest of the year.

As to my own decision process on ministry involvement, I'm still praying and thinking along the same lines I mentioned last week. I'm feeling more and more that God is leading me towards ministry in Soshanguve, and I'm seeking a personal calling for what that might look like for me. And, I'm trying to take advantage of the three weeks remaining in our listening posture to be attentive to what God is doing and find peace in that process.

In the past week, God's been teaching me a lot about prayer, through both of the books we're reading together as a group. I'm seeing new aspects of prayer I hadn't thought about or really absorbed before. The following quote is from a book by Henri Nouwen:

"Prayer, therefore, is not introspection. It does not look inward but outward. Introspection easily can entangle us in the labyrinth of inward-looking analysis of our own ideas, feelings, and mental processes and can lead to paralyzing worries, self-absorption, and despair. Prayer is an outward, careful attentiveness to the One who invites us to an unceasing conversation." (p. 62)

For someone like me who's prone to a lot of introspection and over-thinking things, this was really helpful. Prayer isn't first of all about me--it isn't about self-analysis or even me talking to God. It's about me being attentive to what God is saying.

If you're interested in some of what we're learning together, here are the titles of the books we're working through right now:
Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen
Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster

I'm really enjoying reading these and talking about them with the group. If you're inclined to pick these up and read a bit, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

And, as a conclusion to this somewhat scattered update (I've been migrating from computer to computer--can you tell?), I'd like to direct you to yet another blog. (Because two of my own apparently isn't enough.) We've set up a team blog so that our friends & supporters can get to know our community as a whole, as well as catch a glimpse of life & mission here from many different perspectives. Each week, there'll be a post by a different team member. Go and check it out here!

Decisions

Even though I have another four weeks to explore areas of ministry here, this past week I've found myself in the midst of a lot of thoughts and analysis about where I feel drawn to serve. NC is really encouraging us to take time to listen to where God is leading, and I'm still in that process. This brings up a lot of questions for me as to guidance and exactly how to hear/listen to God's voice. I'm prone to analyze everything, but in this instance, I think God may be nudging me to listen to my heart as well as my head. (What a novel idea.)

Last week, I shared about spending some time in Soshanguve and my excitement about what God's been doing there. This past week, I had the opportunity to visit a couple of women's shelters in downtown Pretoria, as well as to again spend a little time out in Soshanguve.

On Wednesday, Sarah, Carissa, and I drove downtown to a women's shelter called Potter's House. We met with one of the social workers there and she showed us around the facility and introduced us to some of the women. I didn't have too much time to really connect with any of the women past mere introductions, but I did feel drawn to these women and being part of their journey.

Friday morning I was out in Soshanguve, again with Sarah and Carissa, to do an assembly at Uthando Primary School. There were about 400-500 kids and we did the assembly in a courtyard/playground outside. I read the story of the lost sheep, and Sarah and Carissa provided the accompanying actions (the kids loved baa-ing along with the story every time we said "sheep"). A first for me was presenting a story through a translator! Though the kids know some English, most speak other languages (Sotho, Zulu, Tswana, and others) at home, and learn both their home language and English at school.

On Friday afternoon, the same three of us went downtown to visit Lerato House, a shelter for teenage girls there. Apparently there was some confusion about our appointment, because no-one expected us...and they had another group coming soon after we got there. So we're setting up another time to go back next week.

As we left Lerato, even though we'd had very little time there, Sarah and Carissa were both really excited to imagine doing ministry there. Meanwhile, I was caught up in getting us back on the road home. Sarah asked me what I was thinking and feeling about Lerato, and I said something to the effect of "I'm just trying to figure out how to drive!" Which was true. But I was also wondering where my heart was, and feeling a little left out of the excitement. As I prayed about all of this later on, I realized that the excitement that Sarah and Carissa were feeling about Lerato was the same excitement I had felt last week on the way home from Soshanguve. Hmm.

I do want to spend more time at Lerato--to actually hang out with some of the girls, to get a better sense in my head about what ministry, for me, could look like there. That's something I need to think about a bit more as I consider Potter's House as well. At the same time, I'm not sure what ministry in Soshanguve would look like for me, either.

My heart has been for the townships--in large part because of some of the social justice/reconciliation issues that have been on my heart. The black people in the townships are largely ignored by the white population here, so much so that when we've gone out there, little kids in the street will often stare and point and smile and shout "Makua!" which basically means "white people!" We're a curiosity. People are so warm and welcoming and thankful just for us being here and hanging out with them. It's amazing to see just how much difference mere presence makes. At the same time, I want to be more than just present. I don't know yet what, specifically, my vision is for serving here. I know I want to work with women, either one-on-one or in smaller groups, but that's pretty vague, and I'm not sure what form that should take.

Lots to think about, lots to pray about. The not knowing is unsettling to me. It's weird to not be able to imagine what the rest of my time here will look like. I'm trying to take things as they come, to see what God brings to me and to listen to Him in that. That's not easy for a planner like me. But it's good.

Ash Wednesday

A bit of a departure from the update. I think a lot of things that had been kicking around in my head are finding voice today. This is one of those.

Arthur sent our team here an email recently, just making us aware that Ash Wednesday is tomorrow, and wondering if we would want to do something for Lent, as individuals or as a community. I had intended to spend time tonight thinking and praying about what that might be for me. I've never really observed Ash Wednesday or given something up for Lent, and feel like this year would be a good time to start--to mark the season in some way. I got distracted tonight by working on some donations info and settling some accounting stuff online (ugh), but before I logged off for the night, Melissa had sent a couple links with some further information on Ash Wednesday. And I started typing. =)

While reading Psalm 51 last night, I began thinking about just how public David's sin was. His adultery with Bathsheba was something that he took desperate measures to conceal. But his sin--and his repentance--were ultimately recorded in the Bible in both narrative and poetry. What was secret and concealed became known and recorded for all who followed after. One of the things David is known for is that very public sin. I wondered how it would feel to be known, for the rest of your life and thousands of years afterwards, for such a public example of sin.

As I read this, the following stuck out to me:

"Ashes marked on the forehead of worshippers were not given to everyone, but only to the public penitents who were brought before the church. Much like Hester Prynne bearing her scarlet letter, these open and notorious sinners were marked publicly with the sign of their disgrace.

As time went on, others began to show their humility and their affection for the penitents by asking that they, too, be marked as sinners. Finally, the number of penitents grew so large that the imposition of ashes was extended to the whole congregation in services similar to those that are observed in many Christian churches on Ash Wednesday."

This reminded me that whether it's known publicly or not, we are all like David. We may try desperately to hide it, but we are all sinners. Derek Webb sings about "trading sins for others that are easier to hide"--a phrase that resonates with me all too well. As long as others don't know what I'm hiding, it's okay. Somehow it's okay that God knows--just as long as others don't. And I think that's probably what David got caught up in--a desperate attempt to keep his sin quiet. It had disastrous results. But the whole debacle, recorded in scripture, continues to remind me of my own attempts to conceal, and my own deep need for forgiveness.

"We who will bear the ashes upon our foreheads stand with those whose sins may be more public, but not, according to the Scriptures, more grievous to the heart of God. And so we make our confessions. . . . If you only knew the secrets of my heart, if you only knew the sins that I am capable of contemplating, if you only knew some of the schemes I have considered – and of course God does know – then you would know that I, too, am a sinner."

At this season leading up to Easter, I'm looking for something tangible to remind me, daily, of my need for Christ--of my need for the sacrifice of Good Friday and the victory of Easter morning. I pray that for you, too--that God would remind you of not only Ash Wednesday, but also of Easter Sunday.

Language lesson

A variety of hellos:

Hallo (Afrikaans)
Dumela (Sotho & Tswana)
Sawubona (Zulu)


Other words and phrases I have absorbed:

Ack praat nie Afrikaans nie = I don't speak Afrikaans (Afrikaans, what else? And I'm pretty sure that most of that is spelled wrong.)

Lerato = Love (Sotho, I think)
Tando = Love (Zulu)
-------

On Sunday, a few of us visited a church called "Reverb" in Hatfield--it's sort of the university area of downtown Pretoria. I was looking forward specifically to worshipping with other believers--worship in song is one of the things I've been missing about PBC lately. However, this service ended up being a lot different. We were asked to head out to the surrounding area in pairs, find someone to talk with & hear their story. Each pair was given R50 (about $7) and the idea was for us to find someone in need and help them out in whatever way we could. I headed out with Sarah, admittedly a little reluctant to engage in the project. It was cool to see God change that reluctance as we engaged people in conversation.

We ended up walking around the flea market and stopped at a booth to talk with the vendors who were selling some handcrafts--carving, beadwork, etc. Sarah spotted some small square paintings and asked about them--sure enough, one of the two guys at the booth had painted them. Sarah's an artist herself, so that gave us a really cool entry point for conversation. We spent maybe half an hour chatting with these two guys. They were brothers who had come to South Africa from Kenya, looking for better opportunities economically--"greener pastures," as one of them put it. During our conversation, the more talkative of the brothers asked what languages we wanted to learn while we're here. I'm still trying to keep straight all the names of all the languages we've encountered! I asked him how many languages he speaks. Six. Six languages! Here I am with English, some very meagre Spanish, and a phrase or two in Italian. I'm not even going to count the small bit of language I shared above.

Soon after I arrived in SA, someone mentioned how it's ridiculous that white people here often think black people aren't intelligent...when most black people here speak at least three or four languages. Capability in six languages, in America, would be considered pretty amazing. I was thinking about this last night, how such facility with languages isn't valued here like it is in a lot of other cultures. And then I wondered if perhaps it's just that facility with black languages isn't valued.

I'm still thinking about all of this and wondering what these observations will mean for my time here. I know the amount of language I can absorb while I'm here will be very small. At the same time, I want to try to learn at least enough to be able to greet people in their own languages--and not just assume everyone speaks some English (though that's usually the case). I don't want to conform to the "stupid American" stereotype...the tourist who expects everyone to speak his own language. =) I think that for me, part of engaging the culture here--something I can do to outwardly demonstrate that the culture I'm living in is important to learn about--will be an attempt to learn and use what language I can. (This will perhaps also help me in remembering African names...something I'm finding to be more difficult than I'd anticipated!) Stay tuned for my continued language efforts. =)