George

We met George on the very first Sunday we arrived in Portugal over four years ago. Or Jorge, if you prefer the Portuguese spelling. An affable Afro American guy settled into life here, married with two kids and involved in the life of a Christian community out to the west of the city which we had started going to. An odd job man, painter and decorator, always helpful and practical, ready to do what he could for you, and when we’d sit in a small discussion group on some Biblical theme or other, he’d often come up with a word of deep wisdom

So it’s strange to see his story featured in this weekend’s magazine, “Publico” in a four page spread, all about a forty year flight from justice and the case for his extradition to the US. It’s a story, that would have made a great  fiction novel, if it were not for the fact that for the most part, it is true. Here’s the gist of it. An armed robbery in a shop in New Jersey, in which the proprietor dies, incarceration in a US prison, and then escape from prison, involvement with the Black Panther movement, and then the hi-jacking. George together, with a small group of activists hi-jacked a domestic US airliner, released the passengers in Miami and took the plane and with it $1 million in ransom money to Algeria. The plane and the money were eventually returned, but the offenders were released  by the Algerian authorities and went to ground, only to be one by one hunted down over  the following years and recaptured by the FBI, all except for George. 41 years later they catch up with him in the unlikely setting of Colares, Sintra, and all of a sudden he’s all over the media

Interesting to watch how the media deals with someone you kind of know, and it makes me think about issues of justice and forgiveness, punishment and restitution. The US press paint him out as a villain who needs to come back and face the music. For the Portuguese he’s the smart anti-hero who managed to give the great super-power the slip. Nowhere in the media is there the idea that the man may have changed, that his life could now be marked by grace of God. That, ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, he now walks with the God who loves him, values him and, yes, who does not overlook the wrongs that were done, but decides, on the basis of His son’s death on the cross, to freely forgive.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus .. through Christ, the Spirit of life has set me free from the law if sin and death..” “For you died, and your life is hid with Christ in God”  (Romans 8:1, Colossians 3:3)

Biennial

Biennial happens for the European Christian Mission every two years. Obviously. Usually it’s the week just after Easter, still slightly out of season, so it becomes a bit easier to find a reasonably priced venue for a large group of people to come together from all over Europe. It was cold there by the Mediterranean, near Valencia, but the sun rose brilliantly most mornings and the sea was a clear blue

.

This is when we, as an organisation, find our expression as a community, and as a Mission family. When we can re-energise in one another’s company, and refocus on our shared values and vision. It’s a huge commitment, in time and in money. For all of us. Even with the discounts it’s an expensive week.

 
But really, it’s worth it. As long as we don't become too big as an organisation and not too far apart, it makes a lot of sense to bring the whole community together for a few days of prayer and reflection (and fun too!). And sitting there, in the sort of hotel that you couldn’t normally afford to book into, gives one an extra sense of the value God places on your life and on what you are doing. Yes, it is all worth it. And three hundred and thirty five people (including about 100 children) all committed to making a difference for God in Europe and gathered together for that purpose makes for an amazing experience

.

I like the fact that we’re such a mixture, with all our languages, and funny ways of doing things, and all our diverse backgrounds. And I like the fact that you can sit at table with someone else for the very first time and immediately find a point of contact. And having the worship music each morning thrown together by four extremely gifted lads from Ireland was an added bonus.



I’ll leave the last word with the kids and their constantly inventive way of making life as rich and fun as possible. (The song was created and performed by them at the conference and the movie put together by a creative Romanian called Florin)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgZefuIV97s&feature=youtube_gdata_player


 (sunrise photo : courtesy Nigel Cameron)

A Dividadura

 I was in the metro yesterday, and the man beside me was reading a book with this intriguing title. It would appear that the word “Dividadura” is in fact a made up word, invented by the author Francisco Louça, a Portuguese politician of the Bloco Esquerda (left wing). it connects together the the Portuguese word for debt, “divida” and the the word for dictatorship, “ditadura”. The English equivalent might be “debt-tatorship”. But the concept is an interesting one, especially today, as the country celebrates 38 years since the quiet Revolution that brought to an end a 42 year period of dictatorship under António Salazar.
In many ways there’s a new sort of dictatorship that seems to ruling the country, and it’s a dictatorship from outside, not from within, a dictatorship of the impersonal forces of the financial institutions and the markets of western Europe. That dictates what I can earn, what I need to pay in taxes, and what are my chances of having a job next year, and being able to put bread on the table. I have heard more than one person in recent weeks describe their own personal situation as a form of slavery - working long hours for meagre returns, or in some cases, no work at all, and still the bills to pay.

It’s good to look back in history, and to savour those moments of liberty when everything seemed rosy and bright and startling as you emerge from, as it were, a long dark tunnel. In fact the Carnation Revolution that took place in the early hours of 25th April 1974, and is memorably captured in the film “Capitães de Abril” is a particularly inspirational story, and reveals a lot about the Portuguese national character.

(The carnation idea, by the way, came from the spontaneous action of the flower sellers in Lisbon, offering carnations to the soldiers who marched in to liberate the city). But freedom, in the end, is elusive, and as political dictatorship gives way to financial dictatorship of a different sorm, the “debt-tatorship” as proposed in Louça’s book. In the end, the only lasting freedom is that which Christ gives. An internal liberation from all that enslaves - “Stand fast therefore in the liberty, where with Christ has set us free, and be not entangled again in the yoke of bondage...”  (Galatians 5:1). When you know that lasting freedom in your own life, you can cope with these temporary impositions that threaten to drag you down.

The Empty Cross

This Good Friday, as I reflect on the hours Jesus suffered on his cross, the thing that impresses me most is that, yes, He did suffer, but that it ended. By the end of the day, it was over. Out of the darkness, he could cry out “It is finished!”, and “Into Thy hands I commend my Spirit!” And Good Friday is followed by Easter Sunday and the promise of His Rising again and the victory over sin and death and evil

Hailstones fell this morning - tempestuous clouds were scurrying across the sky, and there was a serious drop in temperature. Thunder was rumbling, and in the middle of all this, this most amazing rainbow was shining above the apartment blocks of Portela. A reminder of God’s eternal faithfulness to his word.

“Were heaven's praises silent in those hours of darkness?

Your Holy Spirit brooding round that empty throne?

Until the declaration "He is Risen", You are risen, Jesus,

"He is not dead, behold He lives for evermore".

(Robin Mark - Wonder of your cross)

We listened recently to an audio podcast from Mosaic church, in which Erwin McManus, in a series called “The Truth Between Us” sought to explore the Christian faith against a variety of other religious perspectives. On Catholicism, McManus, himself born into a hispanic Catholic tradition, describes vividly his first experience of entering a evangelical church and being confronted with an empty cross, and the deep shock he felt that - “my goodness, they’ve forgotten Jesus!” Anna related to that immediately. It took her back to the first time she entered an Anglican church in Kenya, and suddenly realised they have a cross without Jesus on it.

But that is the point of the hope that we have. He is not there! Neither on the cross, nor in the tomb. Yes, we focus on his sufferings and death, but we go on from there, to enjoy the full freedom of forgiveness and new life and walking with Him. Hallelujah

www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6fv9rkIIZo&feature=related

www.itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/mosaic-audio-podcast/id74403741

Monsanto

This week’s edition of Time Out Lisboa featured Lisbon’s wonderful green space -Monsanto. “Fifty Things you have to see or do in Monsanto Forest Park before you die" was the title of the feature. Generally, Lisbon is a pretty green city. There are all sorts of little parks and gardens tucked away down quiet side streets. But Monsanto is a vast expanse of natural woodland to literally get lost in. It covers 900 hectares, that almost 10 square kilometres. It has a motorway running through it, the A5 out to Cascais, but you can just about ignore the noise of the traffic and enjoy the birdsong.

Growing up in Coleraine, Northern Ireland, “Monsanto” meant for me a chemical plant belching out polluting smoke by the River Bann, but here it’s a green lung for an ancient capital. And it’s not far from the centre either. 5-10 minutes by car out of the city centre will bring you into quiet leafy glades. In fact, according to Time Out, you can follow a “green corridor” from the central Marques Pombal square all the way out to the Park through cycle routes in only 3 km. Must try that some time.

Anyway, with Colin home, only for one week, we decided we’d go and see how many of the fifty things we might achieve. Some we discounted immediately, such the climbing wall or adopting a dog (the Municipal Kennels are situated in the park)! But we did manage to do a few things and saw some spectacular vistas of the river and the bridge, and Lisbon’s own aqueduct, which used to carry water into the city, and is a remarkable feat of 18th Century engineering and architecture. It was a fine evening, with the sun going down in the west, kids playing in the skate park, young lovers sitting on the grass, great lolloping dogs bounding around among the trees. These are moments that family memories are made of.

www.timeout.sapo.pt

Sometimes it Takes a Celebrity

It’s kind of sad when one’s awareness of the humanitarian issues in this world of ours has to be prompted by the sight of a celebrity in handcuffs. You would think, as a Christian, and involved in Mission work, you ought to already know this stuff, and be ahead of the game a bit more. But when George Clooney was filmed being arrested, along with his dad, no less, on the steps of the Sudanese Embassy in Washington, it made me think, well, what’s put him off his coffee?

But what he did, through that act of civil disobedience, was to bring to MY notice, at least, (and hopefully to a few million others) what’s going on in Sudan. Since South Sudan gained its independence from the north, it has kind of dropped off the radar a bit, but there’s still a massive policy of injustice being meted by a brutal regime against the displaced people of Darfur.

In my further browsing about the Sudanese, I came across quite by chance, an amazing documentary about the so-called “lost boys” of Sudan. I think I was intrigued b the title of the movie “God Grew Tired of us” which is sort of extracted from something one of the central characters John Bul says in the middle of the film.

“In my imagination.I though that God felt tired of people on earth here, felt tired of the bad deeds, the bad thing that we are doing.... I thought God got tired of us and he want to finish us. When I think of it back then..."

They were a group of 27,000 thousand displaced boys and young men, who fled Sudan in the 1990’s and walked for hundreds of miles, first into neighbouring Ethiopia and then, when that country became unstable, all the way back through Sudan to the Kenyan border, to find refuge. Eventually some were brought to the USA, and this was their story. What made the documentary so important for me, was, on the one hand the incredible dignity, poise and faith of these young guys who had suffered so much, and on the other, the bemused and sometimes humorous ways in which they observed North American culture, and to be honest in certain respects, found it spiritually poor and wanting, compared to their rich Sudanese way of life.

You can find the whole documentary, even though its a few years old, available to watch on youtube, by following the link below. It’s in various segments

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-JrOXwGWzM

Or you can see George Clooney's appeal for the Sudan here

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p89OuPODBMM

And, if you want to listen to a bit of cool African music, here’s the opening track of the film “God grew Tired of Us” , a song called "Guramayle" sung by an amazing Ethiopian singer I just discovered called Gigi.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlOygCw764A

Priv-i-lege /ˈprɪvəlɪdʒ/

Yesterday was Mother’s Day in the UK (though not here in Portugal - that happens in May) and the word that springs to mind is “privilege”. The privilege of being parents to three wonderful young people - of walking with them through life - being part of their journey - seeing them develop, in skills and gifting, in faith, and in love and compassion. A wonderful word to use. Yes, it's very special.

Saturday was also special. A regular prayer day for our Mission group here on Portugal, and, again the word “privilege” springs to mind. What a privilege to be involved with such an amazing group of people. Some weary, struggling financially and with tough situations, some upbeat, rejoicing in what God has been doing, but all filled with a deep love for God and a compassion for people around them. We were deep in the Alentejo countryside, at the Anema’s farm in Lavre - rolling hills, gnarled cork trees, dry grassland, because of the shortage of rain.

Sunday, we’re with our community at the Escola Vasco da Gama. “A Ponte” - the community of the Bridge. And again the word that comes to mind is “privilege”. Worshiping God together in Portuguese. "All of my life..in every season..You are still God. I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship..." What a privilege to be here in Lisbon, and watch a community grow - in the Spirit - in faith, in love and in hope. And to be aware that God is in the midst of it all. All that is happening. Amazing.

The weekend also saw St Patrick's Day pass us by. Out under the bright Alentejo sunshine. Privilege, to be Irish? Yes, of course. Soft rain on green fields, white foam on black rocks. To belong to two cultures, and feel privileged to be part of both. And the rich heritage of St Patrick's wisdom all down the centuries. Here's a little gem from his Confession

"The sun which we see rising for us each day at his command, that sun will never reign nor will its splendour continue forever..... We, however, believe in and adore the true sun, that is, Christ, who will never perish. Nor will they perish who do his will but they will abide forever just as Christ will abide forever He lives with God the Father almighty and with the Holy Spirit before the ages began, and now, and for all the ages of ages. Amen."